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#Vlad gets to do the right thing (always for the wrong reasons) at least once a season in the version of DP that's in my head
lilianade-comics · 1 year
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Gee, thanks for the help, Froot Loop. You couldn't have done that an hour ago?
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This may be a minor gripe but something that has kind of bothered me about discussions and depictions of Dan is how often people seem to forget that Dan isn't just an older evil Danny, he's a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost sides. Like people always talk about him like Danny threw away his humanity and turned evil but that's not even true. Sure, we can say that Dan is the result of Danny's action but that's a little unfair. (1/2)
(2/2) Him cheating on a test, coincidentally putting his loved one's in a position where they could be killed, is absolutely not his fault. Letting Vlad take away his ghost powers with a strange contraption might not have been the smartest move, but we are talking about a grieving CHILD here, of course he isn't going to make the best decisions. If anything Vlad's the one to blame here, and even then, it's not like he could predict what happened
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you aren't wrong, my friend. it really isn't entirely danny's fault and the whole 'if you cheat on a test, you'll loose everything you love' moral is confused at best. i think as fandom we find it more interesting to look at danny's potential evil and moral struggle with himself. so simplifying it to be dan is a worse case scenario of danny makes the conflict less abstract.
particularly because when it comes to self blame danny isn't going to go easy on himself just because it was excusable mistakes.
i think another talking point should be how danny is the target of the time assassination more than vlad is, even though vlad is part of the evil whole. you could argue that danny is the catalyst of his friends death and vlad inventing the claw things. but vlad invented the claw things. maybe because his human side survived and acted relatively harmless from then on? or maybe it's because the observants based on the available evidence recognized danny as more of a threat. i think that fits actually, for all vlad tried to be an evil mastermind, his achievements outside of terrorizing a teenager and theft isn't particularly impressive. danny was the one who got shit done. all his fights he finished one way or another and i could see how that would bleed into dan defeating everyone.
the real question is how to we fix this. ideally we could shape this idea so it's less confused, though i do honestly find the dynamic of half danny, half vlad interesting. if for not other reason. than two half ghosts make a whole. actually that's something else to be said about dan. his self-loathing is what led him to killing his human half, another negative aspect coming from danny.
i wonder if we could frame it like fusion, from su. obviously dan isn't stable or healthy, or based on love. he's most comparable to malichite. but with less internal debate. dan took the best and worst of both of them. danny's determination, danny's fighting ability, danny's anger, danny's sarcasm, vlad's anger, vlads lack of morals, vlads schemes, vlad's control. heck, vlads desire to rule the world. i don't think we ever got that from danny.
maybe if vlad was more involved in the fight with dan it could have been used as an opportunity to compare and contrast their characters. to go we're not so different you and i. danny gets to recognize that he has that dark potential. vlad gets to be humbled by the fact that what he wants isn't good for anyone, especially himself. and to be fair, we do see some of that humbling with future vlad, but none of that character growth is given to present vlad, so, really it's just another vehicle for danny angst. it also depends on what you want to do with vlad though. he's a fascinating character and could be given redemption under the right circumstances or be a character who has the opportunity for redemption but chooses not to be redeemed every time.
that fits him and makes him both a more pathetic and despicable villain. it's hard to pity someone who ignores the opportunities to heal and grow.
as for danny, he becomes far more aware of the consequences his actions, especially his selfish and cruel ones can have. because that potential was always there. he has a history of abusing his powers. perhaps for this specific incident him abusing his powers can be something less understandable than almost cheating on a test that he couldn't study for through no fault of his own. (maybe i just have flexible morals?). maybe it could be something more character relevant, like he did something particularly vlad like, maybe he set up a prank at the nasty burger to get dash but it set off the explosion that killed his family. or maybe he did something particularly cruel and manipulative. there are better catalysts than a test. either way he recognized that he should never go that far again and strive to avoid being actively cruel.
he also has the opportunity to recognize that vlad does have a human half, even the one he's fighting everyday. he can face some conflict in it's not entirely clear what trait belongs to vlad and what trait belongs to him. he can empathize with vlad and he can recognize that situations aren't always in black in white. those who fly the highest, fall the hardest, after all.
it can be a growing experience. and while making it solely a danny goes bad and learns not to do evil kind of story. maybe we could cut vlad from the equation and just have danny face himself, full evil refection. i think exploring both vlad and danny through this fusion is far more interesting. especially because we can build on what's revealed about vlad in these episodes, in later ones. danny sees a future where vlad chills and that maybe his vlad could get their. later he see vlads past and what he lost to become who he is.
and then there's vlads turning point episodes. i don't know when motherly instinct took place but maddie fully recognizing he's a bastard and rejection him, was a turning point for his sanity, and danny helped it along. then we have danny rejecting him repeatedly, then we the clone episode, which we can all agree was a desperate move on his part, that danny once again thwarted. and we can all agree that this was the cannon turning point for his character where he stopped fighting for a family and started trying to be danny's villain. in that episode, i think danny could potentially pity vlad enough to try and reach out. he's not going to justify what vlad did and he's not going to apologize for stopping him. he went too far. he hurt danny and dani, he crossed a moral line that can't be justified even with his desperation. but if he changes...
he lost this time but if he changes, maybe they'll reach the point where they're ready to accept him.
i think the same thing could be said about his relationship with jack and maddie. if he changes, if he reaches out. if acts like less of a crazy fruitloop, his friends would be there for him. jack is still trying to be there for him, even if he's being oblivious about vlad's faults. vlads the one driving wedges into his relationships and pushing everyone away.
and that's so freaking human and understandable.it would be such a cool thing to explore with his character.
i could also see a potential arc where after valerie finds out vlad and masters are the same person she tries to get close to him, both to sus out how evil he is and to understand him as a halfa. afterall danny got her to acknowledge dani as human enough, the same would apply to vlad/plasmius, right? only he's a bad person and the more she uncovers about vlad masters the man, the more she realizes it's not the ghost half that's evil. but this is a double edged sword because, vlad is getting attached to her and encouraging her to be more evil. he's encouraging her to go darker and darker in her fight against ghosts and her fight specifically against phantom. to the point where she finally draws the line and says, i'm not doing that! boom exploring the moral ambiguity of her character and getting her to take a hard stance on her morals, because there's a line too far for her.
and boom a further breakdown of vlads character because he finally had someone outside the fentons to redeem him. she could have helped pull him out of the hole he'd been digging himself into. she wanted to help him. he got attached to her, but he and his bad decisions decided to dig himself deeper instead. so once again he's 'abandoned and betrayed'.
from that point, i think it'd be time for him to finally face jack head on. not through manipulative schemes. not through veiled threats and insults. but the full confrontation of 'i always hated you. you ruined my life. you're the reason i lost everything'. which is really just his own self loathing speaking. and jack... empathetic jack can see that vlad desperately wants help. and jack would offer it to him. jack would try to hug it out and apologize and give vlad the love and friendship vlad's been fighting to steal this whole time.
and vlad would reject it.
he'd probably lash out a jack and go into a full breakdown/world destroying attack. could finally put the stolen crown to use and try declaring himself king and embracing his megalomaniac thing and actually be a threat this time. and THAT would be our series finally. everyone teaming up to fight 'king vlad'. danny probably finding out that he's technically king because he beat pariah dark but the matter being a bit confused because he had help. val and danny trying to find the ring of rage or at least find someone who can make one. secrets are out. i imagine vlad, upon revealing himself to jack would out danny to make danny as sad and alone as him. except nope, his family still loves him and val has had the character development to come around to him. (she's still gonna punch danny for lying for so long.) the ghosts will come and help because no one wants another tyrannical kind and vlads obviously off his rocker.
ah, the could have beens
anyway, i didn't mean for this to become a full vlad character analysis and rewrite when we were supposed to be talking about dan, but hey, i'm a simple creature. i like good writing, and i have to rewrite things myself, so be it. - Hestia
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arashikitten · 3 years
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Dark Danny Should’ve Come Back at Least Once
I think most of the Phandom can agree that The Ultimate Enemy was one of the best Danny Phantom episodes ever made, and for good reason. It was incredibly dark of a kid’s cartoon, especially one made by Bitch Hartman, and on top of that, it provided some very interesting lore and characters. We get to see Danny pushed to his absolute emotional limit in a way that I don’t think the show ever did before, save maybe for My Brother’s Keeper in season 1, and we get our first glimpse at Clockwork, who thanks to @five-rivers fanfic Mortified, has become one of my favorite DP characters. And of course, we get to see Dark Danny, or Dan.
But there’s one little thing about this episode that’s always bothered me: the very ending.
Because at the very end of TUE, we get a shot of the Fenton thermos that Dan is sealed away in rocking back and forth, before Dan’s face forms a massive dent in the side, his laughter echoing as the screen fades to the end credits.
You would think, with an ending like that, that Dan would come back in a later episode. That he would return in the series finale is this last big bad, this final demon for Danny to confront once and for all. 
But that’s not what happens. And it kinda pisses me off.
Dan should’ve come back. We should have gotten at least one more episode with this guy, exploring more of his character, more of his side of the story, anything at all. And you know what would be a great way to do this?
Vlad.
Imagine this, if you will.
Dan makes his escape from Clockwork’s lair, dead set on finishing what he started. Eventually, he discovers Vlad’s portal (let’s say that Vlad decided to rebuild his here) and, upon coming face to face with the man who made him like this in the first place, freaks out. Dan makes an attempt on Vlad’s life, and Vlad just barely manages to escape.
Once Vlad is sure this strange new ghost won’t find him so easily, he realizes that this new ghost had Danny’s insignia on his chest, and puts it together that Danny must be involved in this somehow. 
So Vlad makes his way to Amity Park to confront Danny about this new ghost. Danny assumes that Vlad is there to try to kill Jack or whatever, the two get into a massive fistfight, before Vlad finally tells Danny that he’s only here because a strange new ghost wearing Danny’s insignia popped out of his portal this morning attempting to kill him a second time.
And Danny freezes. He goes from snarky and flippant to sheer, raw terror that has Vlad actually worried. Danny demands to know what this new ghost looks like, and Vlad’s concern turns to fear when Danny’s face goes white with horror because this is the same kid who went up against Pariah Dark without a second thought, who has faced countless ghosts who’s powers could be considered godly with a fearless smile on his face, and Vlad may not have much respect for Danny but he knows what the kid lacks in intelligence he more than makes up for in bravery. 
Meaning that whoever this new ghost is must be incredibly powerful, incredibly horrific, and incredibly dangerous.
Danny tells Vlad to go to Danny’s house and tell them to put the ghost shields surrounding the town up, to not try anything funny, and don’t. Leave. The Shields. No matter what.
For once, Vlad decides to take Danny’s lead. He appears on the Fenton’s doorstep, Armani suit ruffled and hair disheveled, telling them that there is a very powerful ghost making it’s way toward Amity Park and they need to put the ghost shields up now, or risk a Pariah Dark-level threat again. 
Then Vlad makes his way toward the edge of town, because he still hasn’t gotten an answer from Danny as to who exactly that ghost was, and he’ll be damned if he can’t get an answer.
Meanwhile, Danny is just outside the ghost shields, waiting for Dan to arrive. He’s absolutely terrified, because what if Danny isn’t strong enough this time? What if he fails again, like he almost did before Clockwork turned back time? Would Clockwork do that for him again? Would he have to watch his future burn down this present that he’s taken so long to keep up?
Then Dan arrives. Right as Vlad makes it to the edge of the shield. 
And Vlad watches with awe as the two fight. He watches as Danny holds his own against this ghost that had almost decimated Vlad barely 2 hours prior, watches as Danny outmaneuvers, outsmarts this menace, watches as Danny fights tooth and nail in a way that Vlad is sure he’s never seen before, and he realizes that Danny has been holding back. Maybe not at first, maybe not during those first few months, but definitely for a while now, because Danny is holding his own now when Vlad couldn’t.
But then that leaves the question as to why? Why is Danny going all out now? Why was he so scared of this new ghost? More importantly, when did Danny encounter this guy? 
Because he had to have fought this ghost at least once before, to have had that reaction to Vlad’s description. 
And then, he hears the other ghost’s voice, one that sounds like a strange mixture of his and Danny’s, and he hears him say “It doesn’t matter what you do, Danny. You might’ve stopped that explosion, but there are still so many other things that lead to me. A car crash, an unlucky ghost attack, the ecto-filtrator, Vlad getting lucky, all of them could still happen. Your friends, your family, all gone, and you still turn into me.”
And suddenly, everything makes sense. That ghost that Danny’s fighting, that ghost that attacked Vlad, that is Danny, or it was, before something twisted him into an unrecognizable monster, and Vlad has a creeping suspicion that it has something to do with him.  And he realizes that Danny is so much more than he ever gave him credit for. He sees Danny, fighting his own future with a hope that Vlad would call naive if not for the fact that Danny had already thwarted whatever horrible future lead to this at least once before, and he understands that he was wrong about Danny.
Because this? Fighting against the personification of all the worst parts of yourself not once, but at least twice? It would require a maturity, a strength of will that Vlad knows he himself lacks, and he comes to the stunning realization that for all the childish quips and petty pranks, Danny is far more mature than Vlad ever was, far stronger than Vlad ever was.
And then, Danny does the ghostly wail.
And if Vlad was surprised before, then he's absolutely terrified now. That’s enough power to destroy an entire city, that single wail, and the sound is a bone-chilling scream that rubs the older halfa wrong in every way possible because that sound should not come from someone as young as Danny.
And now Vlad is caught between two realizations: that Danny is so much stronger than Vlad could ever be in every sense of the word, and that the only reason Danny is that strong is because he has to be, because he’s a child being forced to go against all manner of ghostly and cosmic horror all on his own, and Vlad suddenly feels intensely guilty because he should’ve been helping Danny, and instead he’s done nothing but make his life harder.
At that point, Jack and Maddie arrive. They freak out because Vlad is so close to Phantom and this other extremely powerful ghost, what the hell is he thinking!? And Vlad is trying desperately to get them to leave, because Danny looks exhausted and Vlad might be an ass, but he’s starting his redemption arc now and that means making sure Danny’s secret, and by extension Danny himself, is safe from his parents. Vlad knows what it’s like to be on an examination table, knows how terrifying it is to have doctors looming over you with knives and bright lights while you have no idea what’s going on, and he’ll be damned if he lets Danny (who he again reminds himself is very much still a child) go through that with his own parents.
But it’s too late. Danny detransforms right there on the street, in full view of Jack and Maddie and everyone else who’s gathered there (Dan’s been sucked back in the thermos at this point).
Danny turns around, covered in scratches and burns and bruises, blood in his mouth from where Dan punched him in the lip, left arm hanging in an unnatural angle, and he sees everyone: He sees Vlad, icy blue eyes so similar to Danny’s own filled with uncharacteristic worry.
He sees Sam and Tucker, both with wide, scared eyes, and he can just barely see the faint shimmer of tears gathering in their eyes.
He sees Jazz, face pale and her knuckles white as she grips the Fenton peeler with all her strength.
He sees Valerie, her helmet down and exposing a flurry of emotions ranging from shock to anger to horror to pain.
He sees his mom and dad, clinging to each other as they stare at Danny, at their son, and come to the realization that their son is dead, their son is a ghost and he has been for a while now and how did they never notice? How could they not notice that they had been shooting at their own son for at least a year now, that their boy had been putting his afterlife on the line for them while also trying to keep up with school, and evade capture by the GIW, all at the same time?
And Danny is scared, he’s so scared, because his parents look horrified of him and they think he’s a monster, and they hate him, because why else would they be looking at him like that?
He feels his fathers arms wrapping around him and he’s sure, he’s so sure that they’re about to haul him off to their lab to be pinned down and dissected by his own parents, because they saw Dan, they saw what he would become, they saw what he is now, they know now. But then his mom and dad start apologizing, because they never noticed, and they should’ve, they should’ve seen that Danny’s low grades and missed curfews and skipped classes were because he was putting his life on the line for everyone in this town over and over and over again. They apologize for not making him feel safe in his own house, because how many times did they rant about dissecting their own son right in front of him? How many times had Jack and Maddie shown Danny a dissected blob ghost and effectively told him that he was the next one on the list? How much hell did their own son have to go through on his own, because his own parents couldn’t see what was right there?
And Danny finally realizes that no, he’s not going to end up on a dissection table, that his parents do accept him as he is now. 
But there’s still this lingering fear because they don’t know. They don’t know what Danny might turn into, and he can’t keep that from them anymore, because Dan is a secret he can’t keep anymore.
Jack and Maddie are confused when their son pulls away, and for a moment they’re worried that Danny’s upset with them, that he’s angry at them, because why wouldn’t he be?
Then they see this nervousness, they see how he’s shaking and tense, and they might not always be able to read the room that well but they can tell that there’s something else going on here that Danny wants to tell them, even if he’s scared to.
So Jack and Maddie ask Danny if he wants to talk about whatever it is back at the house, and Danny says yes, but Vlad, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz should also be there, because Danny needs some level of support and he knows that Vlad won’t stop pestering him about Dan until he tells him.
Valerie steps in at this point, finally getting over her shock to demand to know what the hells going on, was Danny Phantom the whole time? Who was that other ghost? Why did that other ghost say that Danny would turn into him?
Sam and Tucker, who have been through the emotional wringer watching their best friend fight his evil future self, then reveal his identity to his parents, are kinda pissed at Valerie, because Danny’s already stressed out enough as is, she doesn’t need to be adding on to it. A fight almost breaks out between the three of them, which only stopped when Vlad of all people, steps in saying that while Valerie does have a right to know what’s going on, all of this yelling will do nothing but cause problems.
The three simmer down, and they all head over to the Fenton’s house, where Danny tells them everything: the portal, Pariah Dark (Vlad suddenly finds a particularly interesting spot on the floor), and Dan. He tells them about how Jack, Maddie, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker died in an explosion in that timeline, how that timeline’s Danny turned to Vlad to take him in, how Alt!Danny asked Vlad to remove his human half so he wouldn’t feel that pain anymore. How Alt!Phantom had been driven insane by the separation (he leaves out the part where Phantom fuses with Vlad’s ghost half: he’s not sure Vlad wants him to tell them about his halfa status), killing his human half before destroying most of humanity. How Danny had been forced to fight Dan a year ago, when he had attempted to blow up his friends in family in this timeline to ensure Dan’s recreation here.
When he’s finally done, about an hour and a half later, Danny looks around the room: at Valerie, at Vlad, at his best friends, at his sister, at his parents, and he sees not only acceptance, but respect. Pride. Because they saw that Danny was willing to look his fate in the eye, and say that he would change it no matter what. They saw him fight tooth and nail to protect them, they saw him defend them from his own demons with a bravery most grown adults don’t have, much less a 14 year old boy.
And they accept him.
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yamalegacy · 3 years
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genre: n/sfw, filthy filthy smut with a semblance of plot (this is me pretending it’s not just pure smut so i added some context tbh)
pairing(s): kayama nemuri (r-rated hero: midnight) x reader
cw: sub!reader, (technically gn) afab!reader, semi-public sex, desk sex (midnight bends you over her desk bc i said so), mommy!midnight, finger sucking, reader is struggling with anxiety if you “squint”, written with a 8/9-year age gap in mind (i’m shameless) but it’s not explicit
word count: a lot tbh 3.2k+
⚠️ MDNI not so casual reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️
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U.A. High School felt like an uncharted territory, some sort of a forbidden land that you shouldn't step into, and yet, here you are, standing just a few feet away from the enormous, heavy doors. The infamous U.A. Barrier that keeps those who don't belong in the school away — and to prove it, there is a line of journalists waiting outside. You aren't one of them, though, you aren't like them. Your Special Entry Permission ID is clutched tightly in your hand as you try to gather the courage to get through the small crowd of journalists.
Finally, you step forward, your breath catching in your throat as you approach the Barrier. You feel like even with your special permission, it won't open, leaving stranded out there. You've had the ID (courtesy of your girlfriend) for nearly three weeks now and never once dared to use it.
As the Barrier unfolds in front of your eyes, you can hear gasps of surprise behind you, and whispers of rumors making their way to your ears of full of spite. Jealousy. It's just jealousy, you tell yourself. You aren't doing anything wrong. Those people don't even know who you are, so it's nothing personal, really. But still, you feel your heart sink in your chest and your face burn at the sudden excessive amount of attention on you. Relief washes over you when the Barrier closes again behind you, shielding you from prying eyes and uncomfortable gossiping.
You take your phone out of the back pocket of your pants. 15:07. Nemuri's last class of the day is almost over. You breathe deeply as you struggle to remember what she told you about the layout of the school — she should be in the main building, with class 3-A (you don't remember her whole schedule, of course, but there's details that you just can't seem to be able to forget).
"You probably shouldn't be around here unaccompanied."
The voice startles you, and when you turn around to look at who addressed you, you are faced with a wall. A tall wall of muscles in a red costume. You look up and find an all too intense pair of red eyes staring at you.
Vlad King. Blood Hero: Vlad King is standing in front of you, staring at you, making you very small and definitely even more out of place than you already felt. Too intense. But when his eyes land of your Permission ID, he seems to relax — the man is still too intense though.
"I need to find 3-A?" your voice comes out a little too squeaky for your liking.
He frowns for a moment, visibly thinking your words over. "Midnight's with them?"
Though he speaks out loud, it seems to be more to himself than to you. Still, you nod shyly, and it's like something lights up in his head, understanding replacing his frown.
"You're the partner!"
You don't need a mirror to know that your face is turning a bright shade of red that could rival Vlad King's costume, and all you can do is nod again. Nemuri has talked about you to her colleagues? God, you hope she hasn't said anything embarrassing.
"Follow me then!"
Before you can say anything, Vlad King is making his way towards a staircase. You need to nearly run to catch up with him. "I had lunch with her today. Didn't say anything about you coming to U.A. though."
"It's a surprise?" you offer hesitantly. “I managed to get out of work early for once, so I thought..." you trail off, realizing that you are already talking more than you should, more than you usually would with a stranger. Your face is definitely not doing to stop blushing any time soon, and the erratic beating of your heart isn't about to calm down any sooner.
Just as can finally see the classroom, the bell rings and students swarm the corridor — Vlad King has a hand on your shoulder and keeps you away from students all too excited to get back to their dorms. Nemuri's students stare at the two of you in passing; a blond boy and a girl with periwinkle hair even more curiously so than the others, but Vlad King's presence by your side probably stops them from asking questions.
"Hey, Midnight, there's someone here to see you!" the Pro Hero booms as soon as the corridor is nearly empty.
You can't help but noticed the way Nemuri's shoulders tense at the loud exclamation, a tension that almost disappears when her eyes find you. But there's a frown creasing her brow as soon as her gaze lands on Vlad King's large hand, still resting comfortably on your shoulder.
"You should have said something about your little partner being this cute," he continues, patting your shoulder with just a bit too much force, and the gesture makes Nemuri's eyes narrow. "I'll let you two be then!"
He doesn't wait a second, doesn't acknowledge Nemuri opening her mouth to say something, before he steps away, immediately striking a conversation with one of the few students still present in the corridor.
When you look back at your girlfriend, she is simply staring at you, and you can't find the courage to take a step inside the classroom, instead standing awkwardly in the doorway. Shit. What are you? A vampire waiting for an invitation to come in someone's home or something?
"Sorry I came unannounced. I probably made things awkward for you," you mumble, staring down at your feet as you can't find it in you to look at her in the eyes.
"Don't apologize, sweetheart. I'm always happy to see your pretty face." The words make you look up, and Nemuri is staring at you, soft smile tugging at your lips as she crooks a finger to beckon you — and oh so obediently, you step inside the classroom.
She stands up from her chair and approaches, a soft hand immediately placed on your cheek, gentle and warm, though her face remains impossible to read. "Did Kan-san treat you well?"
You nod. "He was really nice," you say, your voice still betraying your nerves. Nemuri's thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before she lowers her hand your shoulder, where Vlad King's was moments ago. It would be soothing if her perfectly manicured red nails weren't digging into your skin ever so slightly. "But he's still scary," you add hurriedly. Nemuri loosens her grip, but her hand doesn't move away.
Maybe Vlad King isn't quite as scary as a jealous Midnight. (And he isn't nearly as hot either.)
She leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, it's brief and she pulls away almost immediately to retreat and settle back down in her chair. As she watches you, you freeze, unable to even take one step forward. There's that look in Nemuri's eyes, the one that make a shiver run up your spine and makes you want to press your thighs together.
"Baby, close the door for me and come here."
Always seeking to please your girlfriend, you obey without saying a word, pushing the heavy door until it’s closed. You turn back to look at Nemuri again and she is waiting, hands settled on her lap as she stares at you, unblinking. Hesitantly, shaking on your legs, you approach her, knowing that you are but a small prey rushing into the claws of your predator; the smirk that tugs at the corner of her mouth only confirms it.
As soon as you’re close enough, Nemuri grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer, guiding you onto her lap, forcing you to straddle her thighs. 
“You came all the way here from work just to see me?”
You nod at her question, and she nearly coos at you in response. “You’re so sweet, baby,” she whispers against your lips before giving your mouth a faint peck. “Always so nice and good for me, aren’t you?”
You nod again. One of her hands moves away from your hips and you know to brace yourself, but you still let out a yelp when her palm comes into contact with your ass — it’s playful, you know she hasn’t put much of her strength in it, but Nemuri is a lot stronger than most give her credit for.
“Y-Yes! I am!” You stutter your way through the three simple words. Nemuri is obviously in one of those moods where she expects you to be verbal when she talks to you, that’s what earned you the spank, there’s not a doubt in your mind about it. It’s a dangerous mood for your girlfriend to be in at her work place; there’d be nothing reasonable about whatever she has in mind.
You try to stand up, but Nemuri’s grip on you keeps you firmly where she wants you.
“Nemuri,” you whine, “we shouldn’t...”
“We shouldn’t what, baby?” she asks, smirking up at you before tilting her head to kiss your neck.
“Not here...”
You feel her teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of your neck (you know she is leaving a bruise, but you can’t stop her, don’t even want to stop her) and the moan that escapes your throat is embarrassing.
“What can’t we do?” she insists.
"I know you, Nemuri," you start, placing your hands on her shoulders to keep yourself balanced and stable as her lips found your pulse point. Your breathing is already getting ragged, and you know, just as you know Nemuri wants to fuck you, that you are dripping wet. "This is your work place," you whisper, "we can't have sex here."
She chuckles at your words, and all you want is to bury your face in her neck, in her hair, to hide your reddening cheeks. She pulls away, kisses your cheek in the most delicate of manners, and looks at you, seeming all too serious all of a sudden — which means that she's definitely up to something.
“I don’t know about having sex, but I could definitely fuck you. Right here, right now.”
“Nemuri,” your voice doesn’t sound anywhere near the tone of warning you aimed for. It’s embarrassing. But at least you could have sounded whinier, so there’s still a sliver of hope for your dignity to make it through the day.
She offers you a smile when you finally look back at her face; it’s a soft and genuinely kind smile, no trace of teasing.
“If you don’t want me to touch you, I’ll stop and let you go, I promise. But you have to tell me, baby.”
You already knew that Nemuri wouldn’t push you to do anything that you don’t want to do; she has always been caring and respectful of you, but still, it is reassuring to hear the words in this moment. But you don’t want her to stop.
“Do you want me to stop touching you, sweetheart?”
You shake your head. “N-No!” you hurry to say before Nemuri has a reason to give you another spank.
"What do you want, then?" Her sultry tone sends a shiver up your spine
You don't like that question; you've never liked it in any sort of context. There are too many possibilities, too many ways to answer and it's too much. The thought that you may say the wrong thing plagues your mind every time. Nemuri seems to notice your growing distress, and caresses your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin, once, twice. She leans her forehead against yours.
The silence that settles between the two of you is comfortable, barely interrupted by your heavy breathing. It’s hard to catch your breath when you are sitting on the lap of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met — when all of her attention is on you, just you, nothing else.
“Can I take off your pants and touch you, baby?” Nemuri asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Please.”
Nemuri smiles and guides you off her lap, but her hands remain on your hips as she does so, keeping you up on your feet as your legs tremble. She unbuttons your pants and meets your eyes with her own, probably trying to look for any sign that you might want to put a stop to everything, but when all she can see is your smile and flushed face, she pulls down your zipper. You swallow thickly as you watch her hook her thumbs into the waistline of your pants to tug them down. She kneels down in front of you to push your pants past your knees and helps you step out of one of the legs — only one though.
Her eyes trail up your body, lingering on your underwear, and you hide your face in your hands, refusing to look at the satisfied smirk on her lips. You’re so wet already that you’ve soaked through your underwear, you just know it, and there’s no way in hell Nemuri hasn’t noticed it.
She kisses your thighs and quickly moves to press her mouth to your core. Through the dampened fabric of your underwear, you feel her tongue peeking out past her lips to tease your clit. The moan that her tongue elicits is indecent and embarrassingly loud, it makes Nemuri chuckle against you, the vibrations making your body shake violently.
“Please don’t tease,” you mutter. She looks up at you and you bite down on your lip for a second, “please, mommy. No teasing.”
“Since my baby asked so nicely,” she starts as her fingers grab your underwear to pull it down, “mommy will be nice today,” she whispers against your cunt before standing back up.
She circles around you silently, stopping behind you. When you turn your head to glance above your shoulder to see what Nemuri is up to, you feel strong fingers on your neck, her palm warm against the back of it. She presses against your neck until you obediently bend down over her desk; she doesn’t bother moving her papers away, simply forcing your face down against it.
“Hands on the desk. And don’t you dare move or I’ll make sure you can’t sit properly for days.”
You don't need to be told twice; your hands find the edge of the desk, gripping at it like a lifeline, a desperate attempt to keep yourself from shaking. You know she is staring at you, at your ass, at your dripping cunt, like you're the most beautiful thing she's ever looked at. It's what she always does. And yet, its effect on you never changes.
She kicks at one of your feet, not hard, just a way for her to signal that she wants you to spread your legs further for her, which you do. A gentle finger runs up the inner side of your thigh, stopping just before it can reach your most sensitive spot.
"I haven't even started to touch you and you're already dripping," she says as she leans down, her ample chest flush against your back and hips against your ass. "Such a desperate little slut for me."
Nemuri kisses your neck before standing back up, and you whine as her comforting warmth leaves your body. All you want is to feel her, but she keeps denying you.
"Don't worry, baby. You've been good for mommy, so I'll treat you well and make you come."
"Pl—Please! Mommy, I need you!"
She hums, delighted by the pathetic desperation in your voice. You hear her move behind you, and all of a sudden, she's spreading your lower lips and her tongue teases your core.
"Fuck," you groan, knees bucking at the sudden touch and pleasure rushing through your whole body.
She laps at your cunt, humming again in delight, satisfied by your taste. Her thumb finds your clit, pressing her thumb harshly against it before she starts to circle it, the movements quicken to reach the punishing pace that you've grown accustomed to throughout your relationship with Nemuri.
Tension builds in the pit of your stomach, your grip on the Nemuri's desk the only thing that keeps you stable as she fucks you with her tongue. You're getting close to release at an alarming, embarrassing speed, and for a moment, you think you can feel your girlfriend smile against your pussy.
"I'm so close," you moan, "please—"
And just like that, everything stops. You can't feel Nemuri's tongue, or hands, or breath on your skin, and you whine in the most pitiful of manners. Tears are welling up in your eyes. You need her to make you come. Before you can whine once more and complain about wanting an orgasm, two of her fingers are pushing against your hole.
You're so wet and turned on that her fingers meet no resistance as she pushes then into your sopping cunt. She doesn't move them though, simply kisses both your ass cheeks.
"Mommy..." you whimper weakly.
"Yes, baby? Is there something you want?"
"Please—"
You're sobbing and too desperate to care about how wrecked and miserable you must seem right now.
"Please what?"
"Mommy," you whimper, voice trembling just as much as your limbs. "I need you to fuck me! Please!"
"You're so good for me today, baby," she coos as she gives your ass a harsh squeeze, her fingers still unmoving deep inside your core. "Keep being good for me and try not to be too loud. We wouldn't want anyone to get curious and find us like that, would we?"
And finally, Nemuri starts fucking you with her fingers, pumping them in and out your cunt at a merciless pace. Your muscles clench around her fingers as she fucks you, her free hand sneaking between your thighs to pinch your clit between two fingers. You have to bite on your arm to keep yourself from screaming at the sudden sensation.
"Mommy— I'm gonna—"
"It's okay, baby, you can come for me."
And you do. You come on her fingers, muffling your screams into your arm. She helps you ride out your orgasm, fingers moving gently into you until your breathing becomes even and she pulls them out. She wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to her chair, sitting you there, setting one knee next to your thigh. She takes your chin between her thumb and index finger and tilts your head; you can feel a sticky wetness on your skin and you know it's your juices coating her fingers.
She kisses you and, out habit, you part your lips to grant her tongue access. You can taste yourself in her mouth, it's embarrassing but you can't pull away.
"Open up, baby," she demands, letting go out your chin to press her drenched fingers against your lips.
You gladly take them into your mouth, lips wrapping around her fingers to suck on them, tongue twirling around them to clean them up of your slick arousal.
Nemuri kisses your forehead, "you're so cute, baby, always so good and obedient for mommy," she whispers, smiling softly at you. "I really should consider keeping a strapon in my things in case you come see me at school again."
"You can always fuck me with a strapon when we get home," you mumble, unable to meet her eyes as your face flushes all over again.
"Oh, I intend to, my sweet baby."
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five-rivers · 3 years
Note
Now i would like to see prompts of a curious benevolent eldritch being coming to visit Amity Park and coo at the baby eldritch (Danny) and tech him how to access his eldritch powers.
I know this is probably supposed to be about some more traditional and tentacle-y eldritch abomination, but this is essentially what I’m writing Grandfather Clocks as (not to mention assorted other oneshots and everything happening in Mortified).  I’m too invested in Lost Time to clearly imagine anyone but Clockwork in the Adult Eldritch Abomination role...  at least from a more general prompt like this one.  
... on the other hand I now have Vague Ideas (tm) about a full AU where Danny has eldritch abomination powers instead of ghost powers and all the eldritch abominations he’s ‘fighting’ are just coming to play with the baby.
WARNING this is for real written as horror, since it’s from Danny’s perspective.
.
Time seemed to congeal as the shadow in Danny’s soul stretched backwards.  This one had a name.  It skittered between the dark and the part of Danny’s mind that still resembled a human’s.  He breathed in, slowly, then out, tasting it on his tongue.  Once, it had been two.  
Finally, it coalesced into something he could actually speak.  “Skultech,” he said.  
“Relative of Skulker?” asked Tucker.  “Or Technus?”  He didn’t look at them or at Danny.  He had protections, but they weren’t perfect, and he’d already taken a step away from the light.  
“Yes,” said Danny, internally translating the vibrations of air into something with meaning and weight.  
Skulker.  The hunter, fleshless and tireless.  A pursuer of the mind more than the body.  Almost sporting in his own way.  The library with all its labyrinthine but immaterial paths was the best place to lose him.  
Technus.  A horror that lurked in the depths of the internet, luring in deep-web users and more than a few unluckly click-bait and phishing victims.  Technus didn’t kill them, did very little to them, really, but there was a reason there wasn’t a computer club at Casper High anymore.  
They had been two.  Now they were one.  Part of Danny was fascinated.  Another was thrilled, happy, as it always was when these dark things manifested themselves in Amity Park.  
His shadow stretched, whispering over his features.  He could feel curl over the texture of the ground beneath him, grasping at grass and bark and soil as if it were possessed of a thousand thousand tiny fingers.  It wanted to open up and play.
(’It,’ Danny said, as if it weren’t him, an extension of himself.)
“What do we do?” asked Sam.  She, unlike Tucker, looked directly at him, even half-shrouded in shadow as he was.  She always did, even if she averted her gaze from the likes of Skulker and Technus.  
Near the beginning, Sam had made the connection between the others, especially ones like Ember, who were as beautiful as the were dark, and cults.  She had started a joke about making one for Danny.  Over time, it had become less of a joke.  
Danny tried to ignore the pleasant buzz of his skin as he imagined a cult attempting to do something as sweet as bind him to their will.  
Because, really, he shouldn’t be thinking of something like that as ‘sweet’ at all.  
“It’s still Skulker and Technus,” said Danny, even if he had never seen them like this.  “I think... the same type of thing should probably work.  I distract, Sam gets people out of the way, Tuck, you get the computers at the library ready and tell me when to lead them there?”
“Do you think it’ll really work when it’s both of them?” mumbled Tucker.  “I don’t know if I can even do both of the things at once...”
“The alternative is not doing anything,” said Sam, “and considering that they seem to be after Danny...”
Tucker made a face, the glow from his PDA reflecting from his glasses.  “Yeah, I know,” he said.  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t try.”
“Remember,” said Danny, “don’t give me the go-ahead until you and everyone else is out.”
“Yeah, I remember, I remember,” he said.
“Go do your thing,” said Sam.  
Danny nodded and left the shelter of their hiding place.  He did not stand up, or walk, or move.  He simply stopped being there and started being in front of Skultech.  
From a distance, he probably still looked human.  
They fought.  
It was hard to describe how they fought, exactly, in human terms, but they did.  Right up until one of Skultech’s three-fingered hands wrapped around Danny’s ankle and his shadow vanished.
He, breathing hard and falling, remembered what it was to be human.  To be vulnerable.  His shadow came back to him, flickering.  He came back to himself.  
There was a darkness that was himself, and he was so relieved.  Why?  How often had he wanted this gone?  But he was whole, and like that he was half, and-
He’d gotten distracted.  
Skultech had surrounded him, a hunting ground strobed with lightning.  This kind of fight was an oddity to both Skulker and Technus, this kind of movement, this kind of strategy.  Danny began to doubt that his earlier plan would work.  
What was a library but another kind of forest?
With only enough warning for his self to wrap around him protectively, Skultech yanked him down into the Dream.  The pale seaweed threads of human consciousness gave way to the dark and the other.  He fell to the floor of a midnight palace and rolled to his back, coughing up not-water from the idea of his lungs.
Here, said Skultech, in something that wasn’t quite language.  The True Voice.  Danny had seen people fall to their knees when the others used that.  Had seen sane men turn into blind faith worshippers.  Had heard lies that became true in the speaking, or near enough that it didn’t matter.  
He had never quite managed to speak that way himself, no matter Sam’s cajoling.  
Danny managed to open his eyes.  He did not come to the Dream often, no matter how much it called to him.  Both his halves agreed, here, where every place was also a person, it was dangerous even in the shallows.  
The ceiling was covered in layers upon layers of spiderwebs, and he did not like what that meant.  Skultech was nowhere to be seen.  
He pulled himself up and got to his feet.  
The floor beneath him was glass.  Beneath that was clockwork, but the gears were galaxies and solar systems, the springs were entropy and enthalpy, and the chains were the laws of physics themselves.  Clockwork.  It was...  It would do, as a name.  
The distant sense of amusement was disturbing.  
Danny looked around.  He needed a way out, a way back up, to where he could leave the Dream.  
Why did Skultech bring him here?
Spiderwebs and gears.  Symbols of control, of interconnectedness, of carefully laid plans.  Was he stuck in a web he couldn’t see?
He spun, slowly, trying to see if he could see any doors or other openings.  Something flashing, moving, in the distance caught his eye.  His first instinct was to move away, but...
But it was like he was being drawn in.  Like he couldn’t turn away.  It was a mirror.  A window.  
It showed him himself.  At first, a hundred paces away, just himself, as he was, but then at pace ninety-nine it changed.  Mirrors did that, in the Dream.  Everything did that, in the dream.  
Time sped up.  The mirror reflected not just light, but sound and feeling.  He could see himself, his shadow, and-
He felt it when all the little Loves that kept him tethered to his humanity snapped, the lives they were anchored to burning up as they met their deaths.  He screamed and heard it echoed back to him a thousand times over.  
He could not stop walking.  He could not stop watching.  Ninety steps away.  
His shadow in the mirror was wild.  Unbound and grieving.  Flesh and blood and bone existed, but his two part mind was unbalanced and divided from itself.  He sought aid from the only other like himself and received a knife, received Hate to replace love and at seventy-five steps he watched as what he had once been embraced Vlad and devoured him whole, eating and becoming everything that made him him.  
The shadow unfurled, hungry and seeking.  The memory Love it once had and the Love it had desired for so long driving it onward and outward, the center pulsing like a diseased star.  Seventy steps.  It had eyes like constellations.  
The mirror showed the Dream, now.  Veins of sickness wound through the garden of human thought, through the tangled vines and twisted paths.  What it found did not satisfy, and it sought more, and more, delving deeper.  Sixty steps, then fifty.  
It ate at the best of people, of others.  The singers fell silent.  The doctors could no longer heal.  The kind became cruel.  
Darkness fell.  Then war.  The shadow ruled all from its misery.  
It was not enough.  
Forty steps.  It’s eyes met Danny’s.  It knew he was here, knew he was watching.  It began to speak in its True Voice, and Danny could not cover his ears to keep it out.  
It spoke of the things it had done, of the things it would do.  Danny watched as it carried out its plans, and even more.  It spoke of how it, he, was Danny, and all this destruction, all this suffering was wrought by his own hands.  It spoke of Love Danny did not cherish sufficiently, of fragility, of how it was determined to Be rather than Be Not even though its every moment was loneliness and Hatred to the point of agony.  
Danny’s ears were bleeding.
Thirty steps.
It spoke of how it would hurt Danny, in particular.  How it would rend his shadow, wound so there was no hope for him to escape his fate, even with foreknowledge of it.  It spoke of how, with Danny watching, the mirror was a window, was a door it could reach through and Danny saw it reaching.  
Saw it reaching out and in and towards now and those that he Loved, those that he cherished and Danny would have pushed himself to run but he couldn’t stop walking.
Twenty steps.  It could make itself look like Danny, and even though it was wrong, Danny was wrong too, he was so, so, so, wrong and his wrongness was going to get them killed.  It was going to get everyone killed.  
They were looking at it, not him, speaking with it, not him.  His darkness was covered.  With it, these things were like staring at the sun.
It tore away the protections he had so painstakingly layered over those he Loved.  
Ten steps.
He saw his parents with a bomb made by their own hands, one that would devastate the Dream for miles around, killing anything that dared to imagine, the culmination of their work.  Nine steps.  He saw Mr. Lancer writing lesson plans with his own blood, each sentence less English than the last.  Eight steps.  He saw Sam with the ritual knife, her smile full of blood and sacrifice.  Seven steps.  He saw Tucker clawing out his eyes, surrounded by computer screens flaring with symbols humans were never meant to use.  Six steps.  He saw Jazz-
He saw Jazz notice.  
Five steps.
He could have wept.  
She armed herself with stories and legends and saltwater and truths that made Danny seize and the fact that this thing was not her brother.  Four steps.  
He watched her confront it.  
Three steps.   
He watched it toy with her, her machinations only delaying her doom.  
Two steps.
He watched it k-
One step.  
No!
For the first time, he screamed in his True Voice.  His fist snapped out, striking the mirror dead center.  It shattered.  
Was that enough?  Was he in time?  He- He couldn’t feel them.  He couldn’t-  They couldn’t be dead.  They couldn’t be gone.  
He dropped to his knees.  The shards of the mirror glittered up at him, calling him.  His hand shook as he reached out and picked one up.  Slowly, he raised it to his lips.  He opened his lips and as soon as the shard was even with his teeth, he bit down, the glass crunching like thunder.  
Already, he was reaching for another piece.  He swallowed.  His hands went out, nails scrabbling along the floor in his hurry.  Mirror shard after mirror shard was shoved into his mouth and choked down.  
There was something around his neck.  With one of his many hands he reached up, feeling up his chest to throat.  There was a collar there.  It felt like control, like ownership, like Love.  
Something liquid dripped from his eye.  
Even as he gagged on glass, two of his hands, his human hands, explored the circumference of the metal piece.  There were delicate fractal patterns on the surface that had double on the interior.  As his fingers pressed down on them, they in turn pressed on the skin of his neck, sending pleasant curls of thought down his limbs.  
His questing fingers found the collar’s lead.  It was at the same time, like the spider silk above and the clockwork chains below.  Flexible.  Strong.  Indelible.  It was as inevitable as gravity that he should Be Loved and Love in return.  
He licked the last powdery pieces of mirror off his fingers and his extra arms slowly evaporated back into the Dream as if they never were.  
Who would Love him like this?  Love him to the point that it manifested in the Dream like this?  The answer was all around him, was inside him, as his heart echoed back the Love as best it was able, but he could hardly believe it.  
The sound of footsteps on the hard floor jolted him out of his reverie.  He looked up and met the red eyes of Clockwork’s avatar.  
It had the appearance of a blue-skinned man wearing a cloak and festooned with symbols of time.  A few long white hairs peeked from beneath its hood, and a painful-looking scar laid over its eye.  
For a moment, Danny was stunned, because this was a true avatar, an extension of Clockwork himself, not a human hollowed out for use as a vessel.  For someone as powerful as Clockwork had to be to be so vast in the Dream to bestow such attention on Danny-
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that rolled off his tongue was blood.  Shame crept up his cheeks.  He didn’t know if it was his use of his True Voice when destroying the mirror, or consuming all those shards afterwards, but his normal voice was gone.
Shh, soothed Clockwork’s avatar, gloved hands cupping Danny’s cheeks and forcing his lips closed.  You need not speak, child.  Those who love you will know your intent.
Danny nodded slowly, beginning to feel dazed.  He remembered the scenes in the mirror.  Remembered what the shadow-him had done.  His fingers bent around the lead- it was almost as thick as his wrist- and looked up at Clockwork’s avatar.  
Clockwork could strike him down, now, could destroy him so completely that even the merest memory of him was gone, and he would not care, because he would know it was done out of Love.  
The lead shivered against his palms and grew.  
No need, said Clockwork’s avatar.  You have devoured your destiny and become free of it.  
That sounded reasonable.  The avatar brushed a thumb across Danny’s lips and smiled.  
You have given yourself fangs.
Danny blushed again.  He hadn’t meant to.  
The avatar released Danny’s cheeks to reach for his hands, arranging them in Danny’s lap and rubbing circles into his palms.  Then the avatar gently brought Danny’s attention to the door in its chest.  
The door was glass.  Beyond the glass laid an approximation of a heart made of the same elements as what laid beneath the floor.  A metaphor for Clockwork’s heart, Danny guessed, though what laid in the avatar’s chest couldn’t be anywhere near as grand as the real thing.  
The avatar nodded, and then leveled a gloved finger at Danny’s own chest.  He looked down.  
There was a door, there, too.  
His breath caught in his throat and he tried to scramble away, some still-human part of him objecting strenuously to whatever was going to happen.  
All at once, the whole of Clockwork’s attention turned in on him, and for an infinite moment of time he was held in a perfect embrace.  His thought from earlier returned.  Anything, and he would not object, because it was done out of Love.  
His edges, usually so sharply defined, even in the Dream, went fuzzy, almost blending with his surroundings, those surroundings being Clockwork.  
The avatar reached for Danny’s door and opened it.  It hurt, but not as much as he thought it would.  Within, laid his heart. 
The surface, the shape, of it looked human enough.  The veins and arteries were all in the right places.  The atria and chambers all looked to be the proper sizes.  It beat an even rhythm.  
But inside it was as black as night and something like a star twinkled in its depth.  
It was... odd, how closely it resembled Clockwork’s galaxies while being at the same time so different.  
Clockwork’s avatar opened the door to its own chest, pinning it to his cloak, then he reached into Danny’s chest.  
There was the pain he had been expecting, radiating from his core to the very tips of his fingers and toes.  If he were not held immobile by the sheer force of Clockwork’s regard, he would have arched backwards and screamed.
Methodically, the avatar cut and tied off every one of arteries, veins, and nerves that led from the rest of Danny’s body to his heart.  Finally, the heart excised and cradled in its hands, it drew back.  
Danny should be dead.  The Dream did not follow the same rules as the reality he had been born into, but his mind would not let go of the fact that he had no heart.  He should be dead.  
The avatar inserted Danny’s heart into its chest, next to its own, and closed its door.  Slowly, the image of Danny’s heart faded into metaphor as it sunk down into the deeps to nestle next to Clockwork’s true heart.  
Danny understood, then, that from this moment on, Clockwork would decide the direction of his heart, would determine who he Loved and who he Hated.  If he should Love or Hate.  Danny rather doubted Clockwork would let Danny do anything so damaging as Hate.  
I shall keep it safe for you, said the avatar, something more profound behind its words that might have been Clockwork himself, until you are old enough to protect it on your own.
Danny understood, too, that although this promise was not a lie, he would never be old enough to reclaim his heart, no matter how much time passed or how powerful he grew.  Clockwork’s Love and protection would keep both him and it safe, young, fragile.  How could it do otherwise, when time itself would flow around him?  When Love would keep him anchored to one form?
Clockwork’s attention relaxed, then, and Danny could move again, curling around the gaping hole in his chest.  The avatar ruffled his hair and, with his other hand, held something out to Danny.  
Six paired sets of life and death glimmered against the lavender of the avatar’s glove.  Danny recognized them.  They belonged to the people he Loved.  He had not realized he Loved Mr. Lancer, but he could see now that it was true.  
Moving slowly, as if underwater, Danny held his cupped hands beneath the avatar’s.  His breath caught as the avatar tipped the lives and deaths into his hands.  
So precious.  He brought them down to his lap and, with painstaking care, began to peal the deaths away from the lives.  Each death he ate, consuming it and breaking it down into nothing.  Each life he placed in the hollow that had once housed his heart.  
Like this, they would not die, they would not leave him.  They would be with him, always, just as he would always Love them.  
Exhaustion hit him all at once, and he slumped forward to rest his head on the Avatar’s shoulder.  It laughed, lightly, and helped him close the door in his chest.  Then, it took a heart-shaped padlock from within its cloak and threaded it into the latch of Danny’s door.  The click as the padlock closed echoed off the floor and distant walls.  
With a kind of detached curiosity, Danny watched as the edges of the door, latch, padlock and all, melded into his skin and vanished as if they had never been there at all.  He knew that he would not be able to find the door again without help, and that, even then, to open the door he would need the padlock’s key.  A key he had not yet seen.
But what reason did he have to open his chest?  Others might have cause, those who wanted to hurt him, or those that he Loved.  This was another protection, another way to keep him safe.  
This time you devoured your destiny, said the avatar, petting him.  The sick futures have been cut away.  Next, we shall remove the presents where you Are Not.  After that...  The sentence trailed away in a buzz that made Danny’s thoughts go quiet.  
The avatar began to do something that could only be described as singing even though neither voice nor sound were involved.  It was a lullaby, and Danny felt himself become even heavier and softer than before.  He curled into the avatar’s side, feeling small.  The pain of his missing heart eased itself into something more bearable.  The threads of love that kept him from becoming a monster wound tighter around his limbs and sewed themselves deeper into his skin.  
His eyes drifted closed.  
When he woke, he was in his bed, in Fentonworks.  He blinked several times at his ceiling, and leapt to his feet only to be waylaid by dizziness and static across his eyes.  He brought a hand up to his neck, half expecting to feel metal.  
He didn’t.  
He shifted, pressing two fingers against an artery.  No pulse.  He switched his grip to his wrist.  Nothing.  
Right.  No heart.  
No heart but six lives and-
He stumbled out of his room and started banging wildly on her door.  Jazz threw it open and froze.  
“It’s really you?” she asked, voice quivering.  
Danny opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.  It didn’t seem like Jazz really needed a verbal response, because she threw herself at him, enveloping him in a hug.  
“I was so scared,” she whispered.  “The- the not-you-” She sucked in a shuddering breath.  “Everyone was dying, and then- and then it was just-  It was like a dream.  Like it didn’t happen.  But you were gone.”
Danny nodded, even though she couldn’t see him.  
“I’m so glad it’s you,” she said.  “I’m so glad it’s you.”
Her love, so tenuous and slender compared to Clockwork’s, but no less genuine, wound around his wrist.  He hugged her back.  
If he had been able to speak, he would have said, Me, too.  
315 notes · View notes
going-dead · 3 years
Text
Phasmophobia
Danny was very sick of tourists coming to explore Amity park. Like very sick of them, especially the ‘ghost hunter’ ones. In the end they just caused more problems than the actual ghosts, getting in the way of the fights causing Danny more stress and injuries than normal. Not to mention they sucked at their so called jobs. He was pretty sure even a single elementary schooler of Amity was a better ghost fighter than all of the tourists combined.
But at the moment it was the dead of winter and probably one of the coldest weeks of the year. So only the stupidest of self proclaimed ghost hunters would venture out to hunt ghosts in weather like this. While it was nice not having to worry about danger prone tourists Danny still was miserable, he could deal with the cold just fine in fact he preferred the cold. The problem was that It was the holiday season, the worst time of the year. At least the ghost attacks were less frequent as they all prepared for the Christmas truce party.
Still he supposed it could be worse. His parents weren’t fighting as much this year, though that was probably due to the fact they were still treating him like he was made of glass half of the time after he told them about the whole half dead thing. Danny figured that was due to the fact they blamed themselves for the portal incident, causing them to coddle him to an almost tortuous degree. It was as if they expected him to disappear if he was so much as bumped in the wrong way. It had gotten a bit better at this point at least, if things continued as it did at the beginning Danny was pretty sure he’d rather have them still be shooting at him. Now they only tensed up when he left the house instead of not so subtly stalking him all day.
At the moment Danny was sitting on the counter in the kitchen with his mom while she was cooking dinner. “Danny dear get off the counter that’s where the food goes not you.” Maddie said shooing him off the counter with a spatula.
Danny floated off in a huff, “This is ghostphobic mom. The counter is a perfect seat.”
Maddie rolled her eyes, “The term would be phasmophobic, and no it’s not it’s; I don’t want your butt all over where I’m making our dinner-phobic.”
“Fine transphobic then.”
“How about asking you to set the table? What would that be?”
Danny mulled it over for a few seconds. “A reasonable request I suppose.” He phased his hands though the cabinets grabbing the plates. Honestly he could have just as easily grabbed them normally but he was still trying to get his parents used to him having powers. “Oh by the way Sam, Tucker, and I are hanging out tomorrow to celebrate winter break starting and school being out for two whole weeks.” “Alright sweetie, but be safe okay?”
“Of course I will be mom.”
“I mean it Danny, please.”
Danny sighed “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to text you regularly to let you know I’m safe. I’ll be fine and stay out of trouble, I promise” Maddie nodded seemingly plated at least for the time being.
The next day Danny was really regretting making that promise. The day started out so well too. Danny, Sam, and Tucker were walking along the park trail. Danny was walking a few steps in front of the other two, subtly making the path easier with his powers. The only people out insane enough to bear the cold were people who had to go to work and teens who were bored out of their minds.
“All I’m saying Danny is that if you want to choose that class you should choose a race other than human for once. Hellspawn would be the best option in your case.” Tucker argued.
“Says the dude playing the race for furries.” Danny shot back turning his head to look back at his friend.
“Hey! The beastmen race is a perfect fit for my class, they have an exp boost for trickery and magic skills  it’s the best for playing a character who mains in ambushing with traps.
“Boys boys stop arguing. Danny will be fine playing as a human he’s just gonna have to spend more time grinding. Also he’s right, beastmen are so the furry option.” Sam cut in.
“Whatever, I just don’t understand why he always plays the most boring race in every game he plays. I mean why would you want to play as a human when you could be a fantasy race like an elf or something.”
“Well that’s easy for you and Sam to say you both are still hum-,” Danny was cut off mid sentence by his ghost sense and a glowing red circle surrounding the group. He hardly had a chance to go ghost before being fully enveloped by the light.
When Danny was finally oriented enough to open his eyes he vowed to never complain about getting motion sick while his dad was driving again if it meant he would never have to go through that awful experience again. It felt like getting sucked into the Fenton Thermos if it was the size of a straw and being spun in a blender all at the same time. He looked around seeing if his friends were brought along with him. And just his luck, of course they got pulled through whatever the hell that was too.
“Ugh, you guys okay?” He closed his eyes again and focused on stabilizing his core and getting the last of the nausea to leave.
“Bleh I think I’m gonna hurl.” Sam groaned from beside him.
Danny heard Tucker shift beside him. “Yeah I’m good, I guess all that time staying up late playing VR games kinda helped against motion sickness. Landed on my arm though so definitely going to bruise later. Where are we anyway?”
That actually was a good question, Danny lifted himself off the ground literally, using legs to stand was lame anyway. The sight he was met with was both confusing and surprising. Looking down he saw that the three of them were in some sort of red magic circle or something, with candles lit around it. Looking past that was the part that was surprising. He was expecting this to be the work of a ghost but standing in a circle around the three of them were six  humans in different colored robes. He couldn’t recognize any of them though, they must have been from out of town or just total shut ins. He was pretty sure he recognized where they were though, it was the basement of an abandoned building next to the mall, Sam was super into urban exploring the year before and it was one of the first places she dragged the two boys to.
“Haha uhh hey didn’t know there was a costume party going on, I would have dressed up, looks like you got all the colored robe thing going on though. Would my hazmat suit work instead of a robe?” Danny looked at the group around him and cracked an uneasy smile. Maybe it was some sort of accidental ghost summoning or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Though the fact it brought his friends along pointed to it either being on purpose or something much more powerful, or both.
The man in the black robe turned to a woman in a white one. “Why did the spell bring two kids along with it .”
Danny tried to ignore being called an ‘it’ not like his parents didn’t do it before they knew about his identity. “I’m not the murder clown and I do have a name you know.” But his words seemed to fall onto deaf ears.
“I did the calculations right if that’s what you’re trying to imply, as you can see the subject did appear in the circle as planned. We probably just underestimated how much power the sacrifice would provide with the addition of the solstice.” White robe snapped. Great, this was totally just what Danny needed at the start of his winter break. Not only did they seem like ghost hunters they were the crazy obsessed culty ones.
“Either way the goal was achieved in the end, we have the ghost boy.” Black robe pointed to two men, one in yellow and one in blue robes. “Take care of the two bystanders, but don’t kill them. After all we shouldn’t kill our soon to be followers.” Yeah that wasn’t concerning at all Danny thought.
The one in the yellow grabbed Sam and the one in the blue grabbed Tucker at the black robed man's command. Danny assumed that probably meant the black robed one was the one in charge here. “Hey! Get your hands off me you freaks!” Sam yelled, struggling against the man’s grip.
But Danny’s friends didn’t have a chance against people twice their size. Before either of them could struggle more the two men slammed their heads to the ground in almost unison, knocking them out almost instantly. It happened so fast all Danny would do is watch on in horror. He felt like he watched their now limp bodies for ages, their chests shallowly rising at least giving him the relief of knowing they were still alive. But the sight of small puddles of blood forming around their heads snapped him out of his horror and into a rage.
Danny placed his feet to the ground turning to look at the two in the black and white robes. “Why?” He seethed, “You said they were accidentally brought along when you were trying to get me here. Technically in a way this falls onto me. So tell me, why?”
The man in the black robe seemed taken aback from being confronted so suddenly. The woman in white didn’t seem to have the same problem, maybe they both were in charge? Honestly though Danny didn’t care at this point. “We will take over the little town you haunt. After we do that we will find out where all the ghosts are originating from and then make them into our soldiers so we can take over the country and then the world. To do that we obviously needed you out of the way since you seem to be the only one capable of combating the other ghosts that come into this world. Or you would just defeat our pawns before they could take true action. So we found a way to summon and trap ghosts, then brought you here so we could get you out of our way.”
Honestly Danny was disappointed hearing that more than anything, his rage almost completely disappeared after hearing the plan. “Hold up that is the stupidest plan I have ever heard.” And that was saying something seeing as he dealt with Vlad's plans on a weekly basis. “First off you do realize it would be very hard to get or even force ghosts into your service if you don’t offer them, anything in return. Not to mention how some ghosts have almost godlike powers and you expect to overpower them? Also I am not even close to the only one who can fight ghosts. Everyone in Amity Park has at least some know how when it comes to ghost fighting. They sell basic ghost protection equipment at the supermarket. I just happen to be better suited than everyone else because I y’know can like fly and go intangible when chasing them. Using ghosts to take over the world is so stupid do you even know how to properly catch a ghost? Seriously this is like next level dumb, not to mention how did you even know the summoning would work if it didn't you’d just all be standing in a darkly lit room looking dumber than you already do.”
That seemed to anger the white one a lot. Apparently she didn’t like her intelligence questioned. “Why you little-.” She stomped her foot. “This plan was thought through down to the smallest detail. You want to know how it worked huh? How about asking your friend over there. I wonder what happens when the dead are killed? You will find out soon enough.”
Danny looked over to where we gestured and his refound taunting attitude vanished. Laying over in the corner inside a smaller less complex looking circle was a ghost or the ectoplasmic remains of one at least, the core was completely destroyed. Judging by the fact that the ectoplasm was red it probably had a fire core before it was destroyed. From the lingering ecto signature Danny doubted the ghost was even sapient. It was most likely the remains of something like a blob ghost or the ghost of an animal or even a weaker ectopus. Still all he could do was stare at the remains in horror.
“Of course summoning you was harder so we used that thing for its ghost energy to help power the circle. Instead of chalk we used it’s ectoplasm to ensure the strength and longevity of the seal to hold you in the circle.” The woman smiled as if she achieved something great. Achieve something she did indeed, but it certainly was not what she intended.
The rage Danny felt before came back in full force. Before with his friends he at least knew they would recover, all three of them got injured fighting ghosts more often than they should. But to injure a ghost to the point where not even their core remained was something so taboo that only the most despicable ghosts would do. Even Skulker kept the cores of his prey stable enough not to fade away completely. A ghost's form could be completely destroyed but as long as their core remained they would reform back where they first formed in the Ghost Zone. The only ghosts Danny could think of who would go out of their way to destroy a core were some of the ancients like Pariah Dark or Nocturne.
Danny finally managed to tear his eyes away from the ghost's remains to lock eyes with the woman. She and the black robed man took a step back out of instinct. Looking into his eyes they felt the feeling every animal of prey felt when it knew it was being watched, being hunted. The temperature in the room dropped and frost started to crawl across the walls. Danny took a step towards the two leaders before pausing to reconsider and turning and starting towards the two men standing above his friends.
Then men in yellow and blue robes looked to the man in black for guidance, unsure of what action to take. He looked uncertain as well but shook his head. “There’s no way it can pass through the seal, we tested it.”
Danny's eyes flicked over to the man then back to the two who hurt his friends and gave them a predatory grin, his teeth now looking slightly sharper than usual. He made no sound as he stepped over the circle with ease closer and closer to the two men. They both reached for their weapons, small bats, apparently they were the muscle of the group, and swung at the approaching ghost. Danny simply went intangible causing the two to overswing and hit each other instead, knocking the wind out of them both and causing them to drop their bats. While they were catching their breath Danny grabbed them by their hair and knocked their heads together. Their bodies crumbled to the floor just a few inches from the teens they did the same to just minutes before.
The one who had yet to say or do anything, dressed in red, made her way towards Danny while his back was towards her. Just as she got within arms reach of him she slipped and fell. The temperature had dropped even more at this point causing the ground surrounding Danny to ice over. Danny hardly acknowledged the large thud behind him simply trapping the fallen woman up to her neck in ice as he walked past and headed towards his final two targets.
When first summoned by the group Danny could, within reason, probably be passed off as a weirdish looking human excluding the glow around him. But now as he stalked towards his prey that was no longer the case. His chest no longer moved like it was breathing. His feet made no sound as they made contact with the ground. His eyes, non-blinking, no longer had pupils or even whites to them just a void of endless ectoplasmic green. His ears were pointed almost bat like. The tips of which, along with his lips, were tinted blue. His hair, normally white like snow, now was just the white that came from complete absence of any color. The hair was defying gravity almost as if it was underwater while smoke like wisps trailed off from his hair as he moved. His mouth was twisted into an emotionless smile splitting through his cheeks showing needle like teeth all the way back to where his molars would have been, there was no tongue or throat behind them, just another endless green void. The skin of his neck that was showing past the hazmat suit was marked with lightning like scars. The glow around him seemed to absorb all the light in the room.
The man in the black robe looked between the approaching horror and his partner before running towards the exit. Danny moved so fast it was almost as if he materialized right in front of the man. The man stumbled back falling down in shock but still tried to scramble away from him crossing his chest as he did so. Just as Danny started to raise his arm towards the man he paused and lurched back.
He looked down at his chest where an ornate knife was now lodged. Holding onto the hilt was the woman, she gave the knife a final twist before letting go and herding her partner into the corner farthest away from Danny. Danny showed no pain as he grabbed the knife and pulled it out, the blade was dripping with ectoplasm, and dropped it on the ground. The wound in his chest already healing, filling with more ectoplasm to replace what was lost.
The smile that was marring Danny’s face was replaced with a scowl as he made his way towards the corner where the two were cowering. Placing a hand on their necks he lifted them both up against the wall and started slowly burning their skin with an ectoblast. He let them go, letting them fall to the ground only when their screams of pain turned silent as crushed vocal cords and burnt throat muscles took their toll. Both cult leaders looked up at him in horror faces pale. "What's wrong?" Danny smiled, "It looks like you've seen a ghost."
The woman looked at him in fear as she grasped at the raw skin of her throat, which now was covered in blisters and charred in some of the worst places. “Wha-, what, what are you?” She managed to rasp out before coughing up some blood.
Danny let out a dark chuckle, his voice echoed over itself. “I-,” he snarled, “am a Phantom .”
After Danny sent an anonymous tip to the police about the cult, he brought his friends back to his house. Of course his mom freaked out after he stopped responding to her texts and even more when he phased into the living room with an unconscious Sam and Tucker. He was pretty sure she was about to break out the BOOmerang if she didn’t hear from him for much longer. She was more than willing to take the two of them to the hospital to get them checked out.
Danny made a quick stop into the ghost zone to tell Clockwork to spread the word to other ghosts to be on alert and that there were humans that were trying to summon and capture ghosts. After telling Clockwork what happened, in much more detail than the briefest summary he gave his mom, including how he probably went a bit overboard with dealing with the cultists. He also admitted he didn't regret it even if he did go overboard. They hurt his friends and caused a ghost to completely fade, and in Danny’s opinion they deserve whatever came to them. The whole story caused Clockwork to also start fretting over him making sure to let Danny know that his reaction was a completely normal response to someone threatening something that falls within his obsession especially since it happened in his haunt of all places. Danny swore that his ghostly mentor could be worse than his own parents sometimes especially when it came to reassuring him about his more ghostly tendencies.  
Luckily after being released from the hospital it turned out the worst Sam and Tucker suffered were concussions that would heal in a decently short amount of time. That didn’t mean they weren’t complaining about it though.
“Stop laughing about my suffering Danny! I won’t be able to start playing Fantasy War Online VII until my two week tech restriction is lifted by my doctor. It was bad enough I had to go to a hospital but to be taken away from my lovely devices as well is just too much.” Tucker lamented.  
“Quit complaining and suck it up. I’m on the restriction too Tucker.” Sam pointed out.
Tucker huffed. “Yeah well you’ll probably manage to catch up to all the people who are getting it on release day easily, since you’re scarily good at MMO’s.” He flopped back onto Danny’s bed. “Hey at least this gives us more time to convince Danny to play something other than a human for once in his life. Like I said before the hellspawn is the perfect race for the build you’re going for.”
Danny just rolled his eyes. “And like I said before, I like being a human.” “Whatever dude just don’t complain when I utterly beat you if we end up fighting because you wanted to be the lamest most boring race ever.”
Danny shrugged. “Somehow I’ll cope, I just think it’s nice to be seen as normal and not scary.”
Sam laughed. “Danny you are the least scary person like to ever exist. The only things scary about you are your grades and your wacky parents. I doubt you could be scary if you tried.”
Danny looked out the window watching the stars as they started to appear in the sky. “...Yeah I guess you’re right.”
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bubblegumbeech · 3 years
Text
Haunted Towers and Hidden Truths
Phic Phight prompt by @lexiepiper
Write a more traditional ghost story. How would things change if ghost powers weren’t super powers, but closer to old horror movie tropes?
“We shouldn’t do this Danny,” Sam said, ever the voice of reason. “This place isn’t like our usual haunts.“
But Danny shook his head, “No Sam, I have to do this. I have to know what that dream meant, if it was really a dream or something else.”
He moved to take a step forward when his other friend, Tucker, grabbed his arm, “I don’t know man, I think she’s right. There isn’t a possessed item to destroy, or an overactive ghost to try and calm down, heck even Vlad has a weakness we can exploit, we don’t know anything about this place. What if we don’t make it out of this one?”
“Come on Tucker,” Danny argued, his own confidence nothing but a mask, “It can’t be as bad as the haunted video game right? You die in the game you die in real life!”
Tucker didn’t laugh, “this is serious Danny, I know that dream had you messed up, but what if it was just that? A dream?”
“Or,” Sam cut in, “What if it’s a trap? Remember how Desiree tried to get us with that monkey’s paw when she realized we were getting involved with every scary story and urban legend in town and she didn’t want us to find out about her?”
There was also the time a ghost discovered Danny’s secret and decided to haunt him personally and make his life a living hell until he and Tucker were able to exorcise it. It had involved a gorilla, a lot of research into dead safari hunters, and one of his parent’s inventions that they rigged to do what they needed before destroying it so it couldn’t be used against Danny himself. 
“We made it through all of those things together, remember when we first saw Cujo? And we thought he was to blame for Valerie’s mother?” Danny said.
Sam deflated, “and then we did research and discovered that Cu Sith only foretell death, not cause it… But Danny, we tried to research this place, remember? We found nothing. It’s like it doesn’t exist.”
“Yeah man,” Tucker scratched the back of his neck uncertain, “I couldn’t find so much as a blueprint. No building plans, nothing. The only thing we have to go on are stories from reckless kids trying and failing to spend the night.”
“You don’t have to follow me, the last thing I want is to put you both at risk. Especially after last time.” 
Tucker groaned, “Danny you know we aren’t going to let you do this alone right? Especially not after Walker’s prison. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t come in and save you?”
Danny smiled, “I probably would have starved to death to be fair, but yeah, I’ll try to avoid getting locked in any metal cages, deal?”
“To be fair,” Sam said, returning his smile with one of her own, strained though it was, “you probably would have died of thirst first.”
Chuckling at his friends' attempts to lighten the mood once they realized his mind wouldn’t be changed, Danny finally let himself look up at the place in question. It was a tall, crooked looking clocktower with old, brittle wood and peeling paint. In the low light of the evening it looked almost purple and with the dust and cobwebs covering it, it was clear no one had been inside for quite some time. 
The Clocktower was a recurrent presence in his dreams, the ones he’d started having since the accident that made him the way he was: different from any person, but not quite anything else. It was always there in the background, but he’d never gone inside. 
Once, during a particularly dull recurring dream where he relived the life and consequent death of a warehouse worker, he’d walked away from the endless piles of boxes and tried to go inside the clocktower instead. But no matter how far he traveled, it was always the same distance away. He just couldn’t get to it. 
Danny couldn’t shake the feeling though, that something inside might have the answers he’s been searching for. So he stepped forward, and knocked on the door.
There was no answer, of course, and  Danny almost felt foolish doing it, but also, ghosts and spiritual beings all had their own rules and perceptions of what is or isn’t polite, most of which Danny had stumbled into learning the hard way, and it really didn’t hurt to check.
“No answer,” Sam said and Danny nodded, turning the handle. It was old and brass and when it turned it made a loud grinding noise that vibrated along his arm. But it did open, and without Danny needing to persuade it, so that had to be a good sign right?
Unless it really was a trap. 
“Maybe we should leave someone outside, in case it really is like Walker’s prison.” He offered, but both of his friends shook their heads and stepped past him. It was dark, musty and smelled in a weird way, like a library. If a library had locked its doors and not let anyone enter for a good century or so. 
Sam took the lead, her flashlight catching on unfamiliar shapes and shadows. “Do you know what we’re looking for?” she asked, her voice uncertain. 
Danny shook his head, “Not really, just… answers.”
They looked around the ground floor at first, but if it held anything particularly supernatural or important, it wasn’t going to be found. “This just looks like my grandma's living room.” Tucker complained, taking the sheet off of one of the couches, “we need to go further in if we want to actually find something.”
He wasn’t wrong, Danny looked over to the spiralling staircase in the back of the room, and then to the other doors that surrounded it on the first floor. “It’s probably better to do this systemically right? Go through every room on each floor and move our way up?”
“You mean like in a video game?” Sam asked, “sure, we can do that.”
They started on the left, but that room wasn’t much better when it came to finding any kind of clues. It held a kitchen, a very old kitchen, with a stove and oven that Danny had only ever seen in period movies. But…
“Why does it smell like cookies?” Danny asked, turning to his friends who both looked at him like he was crazy.
“Cookies? Yo, Danny this place smells like straight up death. Not cookies.” Tucker said, backing away from the oven and starting to open up cabinets. 
Sam rolled her eyes and did the same on the other side of the kitchen, “it doesn’t smell like death you dolt, it smells… like a graveyard.”
Danny walked to the middle of the room, towards the oven- he always made sure to be the one seeking out the more dangerous or suspicious things in the haunts they went to- while the two of them bickered. They tended to start these smaller, petty arguments when they were scared, it took the edge off. 
“Duh?” Tucker said, and Danny heard him slam one of the cabinets shut, “graveyards are death? What does it smell like to you? Your Mom’s perfume?”
“No, it smells like someone dying, you know all hospital chemicals and gross stuff.”
There wasn’t anything in the oven, but oddly, Danny had felt a wave of warmth when he opened it. Almost like it had just been used. But, ghosts didn’t need to eat, right? And there couldn’t have been a person living here, they’d notice that. At least, Danny hopes they would notice that. After being in dozens of life or death scenarios hinging on whether they noticed important but minute details, they’d become pretty good at that kind of thing.
“Ugh! Don’t talk about hospitals, I’m still not over North Mercy, that was horrible,” Tucker turned to Danny, leaning on one of the counters and ignoring the cabinet he opened right behind his head. “What do you think death smells like Danny?”
Danny walked over and closed the cabinet, he didn’t want something to suddenly appear inside of it all twisted limbs and empty eyes or for something to crawl out and scare them, or even have it slam shut on Tuckers head, like some ghosts were known to do. He didn’t have to put much thought into his answer, “It smells like burnt flesh, electricity, and polished wood.”
Tucker paled, “oh… right. Sorry.” 
He shrugged, “anything yet?”
“Not unless you count cobwebs, dust, and deteriorating cooking books,” Sam answered, walking over to both him and Tucker. 
Danny looked around at the kitchen, it looked normal, even some dying light shone in from the one window along the outer wall. The only thing weird was the shape and that was because it was at the bottom of a spiralling clocktower. There was nothing particularly scary about the place, and frankly Danny didn’t know what to do with that.
“Let’s move on, this place is giving me the creeps,” Sam said, crossing the room and going to the next door. 
Danny and Tucker followed, unwilling to be left behind, or to let her go on her own. The next room was the same size as the other two, but it had an extra window and was crammed absolutely full of books. Just books. Stacks and stacks of them where they didn’t fit on the shelves, which were completely packed themselves, and Danny had the thought that this was probably what he was smelling when they first walked in. 
It was a library. A personal one, but without any room to sit or anything to sit on despite the genuinely impressive display of books and Danny found himself gently stroking his hand against the cover of a book on the top of the nearest stack, When Ghosts Speak: Understanding Earthbound Spirits.
“Please tell me we aren’t reading all of this,” Tucker whined. Danny frowned, why wouldn’t he want to read these? It was a treasure trove of information, these books could have countless, researched, answers to questions they’ve been asking since the start of everything! 
What if one of these books could tell them why Amity Park seemed to attract the supernatural, why they seemed to gain power within the city’s boundaries, why Danny wasn’t dead. He wanted nothing more than to grab any one of these books, walk into the next room, with the couches and comfortable chairs, sit down and read and read until he found something, anything he could use. 
These books might even be able to help him deal with the supernatural threats that plagued their town. Mostly they’ve been surviving through luck and half baked internet searches with the occasional trip to the town library. And while it had been enough so far, Danny was practically salivating at the thought of being properly, genuinely prepared for something for once. 
“Of course we aren’t,” Sam said, dragging Danny out of his fantasies of maybe knowing what he was doing, “they’re completely deteriorated. If we even tried to open one it would probably fall apart.”
Danny frowned, and then looked down at the book he’d subconsciously grabbed. It didn’t seem as bad as Sam was describing, but he also didn’t want to risk it either. He’d realized early on there was a difference between what he was seeing and what was actually real. He set it down gently and looked around the rest of the room with his friends. 
“Are we so sure this place is haunted?” Danny asked. By then, the sun had set entirely and the only light left was their flashlights. High powered and with fresh batteries they were still little use against the encroaching dark and Danny wanted to move on to the next floor already if he wasn’t going to be able to open a book. 
Tucker stood up from behind a precariously leaning shelf and dusted himself off, “Dude you’re the one that said there was something here and we needed to investigate. Remember, like an hour ago when the two of us were trying to stop you from going inside?”
Danny scoffed, “that’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean then?” Sam asked, stepping closer so she could meet his eyes. There was something in her expression, curiosity or suspicion, Danny couldn’t quite parse. 
“I…” Danny stopped to think, what did he mean? Was it just that the place didn’t feel haunted? There wasn’t anything here trying to scare him away, no ominous winds or loud knocking, but they’ve gone into haunts before that took a long time to start actually reacting to them. “There’s no, I don’t know how to explain it. Usually when we go somewhere haunted, that a ghost has a claim to or whatever… there’s this feeling that I’m trespassing? I don’t feel like I’m trespassing here.”
That probably didn’t make any sense, and despite everything they didn’t usually act on Danny’s gut instincts as a group without evidence. The issue with the circus and it’s terrifying owner was a lesson too well learned after all. 
True to expectations neither Sam nor Tucker looked convinced. They shared a quick ‘what now’ look between each other and Danny resisted taking a step back and sinking into the wall. Not that he could do that, as far as he knew he couldn’t do that. Only actual ghosts could do something like that and despite everything Danny was still human- well, still had a physical form. 
Permanently. 
“Let’s move on upstairs,” Sam reasoned, “if Danny’s right there won’t be any harm in it, and if he’s not we’ll find out once whatever’s here starts actually reacting to us, right?”
Perfectly reasonable and logicked as always. Danny nodded and walked to the next door, if he was right it would lead into the room they had first entered with the staircase that twisted and climbed higher and higher into the heart of the tower. That was the next place to go. He knew that.
Tucker gently patted his shoulder as they walked towards the base of the stairs, “yeah, maybe the ghost doesn’t consider this bottom part his haunt? Maybe he just likes the clock on top?”
Danny smiled, “like the hunchback of Notre Dame?”
Smiling back, Tucker nodded, “exactly! Oh man, we gotta find out if that guy is real one of these days.”
“We have our hands a bit tied with Amity Park without going after disney characters,” Sam said, pushing the two of them from behind so they’d actually go up the stairs. “Now let's get a move on, I want to be back home before breakfast so my parents don’t realize I snuck out again.”
There was something Danny could say but he bit back the comment about how at least her parents would notice and quickly walked up the stairs instead. As soon as his feet touched the first step a bubbly feeling lifted in his chest, and it made him want to go higher as fast as he could there was someone up there waiting for him-
“Danny!” Sam called out, grabbing him by the arm, “calm down!”
Her grip on his arm was tight and Danny looked down to see what had her panicked only to find his feet had left the stairs entirely and he’d started floating upwards instead of walking. Like a human. Like his friends. Like what he was supposed to be. 
He swallowed and let himself sink back down, forcing the feeling in his chest back as much as he could. It was like trying to kill the fizz in a shaken soda by screwing a cap back on it and he struggled with it for a moment. He’d never felt like this before- sure, most ghosts and other supernatural entities tended to broadcast emotions to a higher degree than humans, and with them also being natural empaths and Danny’s unfortunate situation it often led to him being overtaken by emotions that weren’t necessarily his own. 
It’s just, they’ve never been this overwhelmingly positive before.
Even with Vlad, as human as he was, his emotions were always tinted with obsession and desperation. His need to have Danny and his mother for his own colored every interaction he’d had with the man and it often left a bitter, strained feeling in his chest. Right now, Danny felt almost giddy. And he wasn’t even sure it wasn’t just his own emotions, reacting to the environment around him. It was a nice environment after all. 
But Danny was good at ignoring things like that. 
“My bad. I’ll try and keep my feet on the ground from now on.”
Sam looked conflicted, “Danny you know we don’t mind you using your powers,” Danny nodded, they’d told him so many times over and over again, “But we don’t want to lose you to them. You promised to stay with us, remember?”
Danny smiled, “I remember. I won’t end up like that, I promised. That’s why we’re here right? To stop it?”
Sam nodded and let him go. 
The second floor was similar to the first, in that it had three rooms leading into each other with the spiral staircase in the center. Danny started with the door on the right. It was a study. There was a desk, paperwork, and a bottle of ink with a quill and Danny found himself wondering just how old this clocktower really was. And how long it had been since its occupant was truly here, alive, if ever. 
They split up and started looking around, eagerness exposed in their movements. This was the most likely place to have something useful, especially if whoever spent their time here was as studious as the lower floor suggested.  Danny went for the desk. 
There was a note on it, in perfect, looped handwriting and the ink was still glistening, fresh from the bottle if the smell had anything to say about it. Danny ran his hand across the words hoping to smudge it, but it had dried already, if barely. 
It’s nice to meet you, little anomaly.
Danny grit his teeth. 
“Guys,” he called out, holding the paper, “It knows we’re here.”
Sam and Tucker rushed over, and Sam grabbed the paper from his hand to read for herself. “Little anomaly? Isn't that kind of insensitive?”
“Yeah,” Tucker agreed, “you just have weird ghost powers right? Vlad’s the same way it’s not like you’re the only person on the planet like you.”
Hesitant to correct him, Danny bit his tongue. It was true that Vlad was a person who had unfortunately gained the abilities of a ghost, things like floating, making objects move with his mind or using his spirit to control people while he slept safe and sound at home. And he’d gained them in a similar way to Danny as well, trusting the wrong people and delving into things he never fully understood and still didn’t. 
It was just … less true for Danny was all. 
But he wasn’t going to tell them that, he wasn’t going to tell anyone that. So how did whoever, or whatever this was, know? Or was it just saying things to get under his skin, that was pretty par for the course when it came to ghosts. So why wasn’t it doing anything else? Trying to get them to leave? Was Sam right? Was it really a trap this entire time? What would happen if they went back downstairs and tried the door, would it open?
He grabbed the paper and shoved it into one of his jackets pockets, there was plenty of time to freak out over it later after all. “Let’s keep looking around, there has to be something here that it’s trying to distract us from.”
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything more useful than there had been downstairs. Just what one would expect from a normal office. What papers he did find had detailed extensive notes, yes. But they were in a language Danny couldn’t read and neither Sam nor Tucker even recognized. It was infuriating!
Almost like whoever was haunting this place, was telling them it had all the answers they wanted but wouldn’t give them any. He just wanted to know how - Danny shook his head. There had to be something. He wouldn’t have been led all the way here, had all those dreams, if there was nothing he could do at all. 
He threw one more frustrated look around the office before he threw the stack of papers he’d been digging through on the floor and marched over to the next door. It was unlocked, again, just like all of the others and it only served to increase Danny’s frustration. 
“Wait, Danny,” Sam noticed him leaving and quickly followed, the door slammed shut behind them, locking Tucker inside the office.
“No,” he whispered, this was all his fault, he shouldn’t have let this ghost get in his head like this! He never should have let his emotions take him over, he knew better. It led to bad things. Horrible, terrible, things. 
There was a loud bang on the door, someone was pounding against it and Danny flinched. Was the actual haunting finally starting? Was everything really just a way to lure them deeper into the tower and away from each other? 
“Guys?” he heard Tucker call out from the other side of the door, “did you seriously just leave me behind? Don’t we have like, a rule against that?!” 
Danny sighed in relief, it was just Tucker. “Are you okay Tuck? Did anything happen over there when the door shut? Any oozing walls or flying papers-”
There was another thump, probably Tucker banging his head against the door, “I know what to look for Danny I’ve been doing this the exact same amount of time as you.”
“Yeah yeah,” Danny acquessed. “Just get to the stairs and we’ll meet you there.”
He exchanged a glance with Sam, she was glaring a hole into the side of his head and he felt guilty for being the cause of everything going wrong, again. So he apologized and ignored her exaggerated eye roll when she said he should have known better, because well, he did. But what was he going to do, apologize twice?
The room they were in was a simple one, likely some kind of storage space that he and Sam could dig through for hours on end, but it was more important to get to Tucker than to try and make sure they didn’t miss anything. 
Which, in hindsight, was probably exactly why they’d been separated. 
A cold breeze tickled at Danny’s hair and he felt himself relax despite it all. It felt nice, the cold, and Danny liked when the haunts they went to leaned towards the chillier side like this. Sometimes, especially if Vlad was involved, it felt like he was walking into an overwarm swamp when he entered a haunt and it made him itchy and uncomfortable the entire time. Vlad never seemed to notice, and his friends complain equally about both, so Danny had mostly kept it to himself. 
The entire tower felt nice, cold dry air, the smell of books, ink, and cookies, even the playful, excited feeling that seemed to permeate throughout the tower. Like someone had designed it to appeal in every way to both sides of Danny’s instincts. 
It was unnerving. 
He followed Sam out of the room and back into the middle where the stairs were, but Tucker wasn’t there. 
Sam pulled out her phone, and Danny held his breath as it rang, once, twice, and then a click and Tucker’s familiar, annoyed voice came through the speaker and Danny sighed in relief. “Uh guys? I couldn’t get out the door so I tried to climb out a window, and there was uh, a ladder. So I’m outside right now. Come get me?”
Danny met eyes with Sam and nodded, they headed back down, “we’re coming Tuck,” he said.
“Cool, cool, actually rather than coming to get me, can we just go home? Come back later, like in the day time? How come we never do these things in the daytime?”
“You know that’s not how ghosts work Tucker.” Sam said, bored, as they walked to the front door. Danny felt a tug, something like a hand on his shoulder and turned to see what was behind him. There wasn’t anything there. 
He turned back around to see that Sam had already walked outside, and was holding the door open for him, one of her eyebrows raised. Awkwardly, Danny jogged a little, so as to not hold them up too long. But before he could actually walk outside the door slammed shut.
Sam screamed.
“Danny! Are you okay!” Tucker asked, his voice panicked and muffled from the other side of the door.
“I’m fine,” Danny said, gritting his teeth and turning around. The room didn’t look or feel any different. There was nothing screaming at him to get out or anything else malicious. If anything it seemed even cosier than before, and Danny didn’t really know how to react to that. 
He looked back at the door. There was a way, no. He couldn’t do that. Danny pinched at the bridge of his nose, the only thing to do, really, was to see who had invited him in. That’s what it was right? Some kind of weird ghostly invite?
“I’m going to go check upstairs,” he called out to his friends before walking back towards the staircase. 
They pounded on the door, “Danny don’t you dare go up there without us! Just wait, we’ll find a way in! It’s dangerous alone!” 
Ignoring their protests Danny took the stairs two steps at a time, fighting the rising excitement in his chest and firmly planting his feet against the polished wood. There were answers waiting for him, he knew there were. He just had to find them. 
The third floor had a bedroom, it was nice, cozy and the bed even looked inviting. Danny didn’t bother to stay long. Whoever it was that called him here wasn’t in this room, nor were they in the next or the one after that. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom on that floor and Danny quickly made his way to the next. 
This room was different from the rest. For one there were windows, everywhere, that seemed to play different scenes of different people from all over the world. If Danny strained his ears, he could even hear them speaking different languages. On the other side from the windows was an entire wall of clockwork that chimed and churned as the gears moved, keeping the face of the clock on the outside ticking along in sync with the rest of the world. 
When Danny stepped into the room properly the carpet sunk easily underneath his feet and he felt a nice, cold breeze that came from a purple flamed fire housed properly in a fireplace in the middle of the room. He hadn’t even noticed a chimney from outside. 
There was a man in front of the fire. He was tall and hooded and he carried an equally tall and gnarled staff in one of his gloved hands. Danny felt himself freeze, he had never seen a ghost this solid before. There was always a little bit of transparency, no matter how powerful, they didn’t have physical forms afterall. Not like Danny.
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was dry and soft and Danny was thankful when it didn’t crack on his question. How embarrassing would that have been? 
The man turned around, his face changing as he did from old and aged to a younger one, closer to his parent’s age, a large jagged scar marking it’s way through one of his eyes and down his cheek. He smiled, “I am Clockwork, Master of time. All that was, All that is, and All that will be. I understand you have many questions for me. I hope to answer them.” 
A thousand questions ran rapidly through his mind, why did you call me here? Did you call me here? Why get rid of my friends? What are you and why haven’t I seen anything like you before?
“How do I prevent myself from becoming that.” Danny asked the most pressing question first, desperate. The man-ghost-Clockwork, sighed and gestured for him to sit. There was a comfortable looking couch with an equally comfortable chair across from it and a plate of cookies set on an elegantly carved coffee table between the two.
“That’s easily answered, sit, have a cookie.” Clockwork floated over, crossing his legs and settling into the chair before grabbing a cookie for himself. 
Danny glanced at them, uncertain, before taking a seat. The couch was even more comfortable than it looked and he found himself sinking back into it, confused. The room was a nice, cold, temperature as well, despite the fire clearly burning in the fireplace. 
He grabbed one of the cookies, “can I eat these?” he asked, looking over at his host.
“Of course,” Clockwork smiled, taking a bite of his own before leaning back, “I made them for you. Though your friends would have to be more careful, I’m not sure what food like this would do to a human.”
“I am human,” Danny argued, placing the cookie back on its plate. He had to, denial was all he had left at this point. 
Clockwork frowned, “yes, well, I suppose we’ll get there next. You wanted to know about your dreams.”
Finally, Danny nodded, “they’re different ever since- uh well… ever since the incident.”
“It’s natural to not want to talk about one’s death,” Clockwork said, he leaned forward and tilted his head, “or one’s birth.”
“My dreams,” Danny asked, avoiding that conversation with all the grace of a blind hippo, “why are they different. You know right?”
Sighing, Clockwork nodded and leaned back, “yes, I know everything. They’re different, frankly, because they’re dreams. It’s unsettling to you because it’s new, you’ve never dreamed before.”
Danny scowled, “that doesn’t make any sense, I had plenty of dreams when-”
Clockwork interrupted him, disappointment plain under his hood, “You can lie to your friends Daniel, but I already know the truth. Just as you do.”
“I was astral projecting. Like what Vlad does… but then why-?” Danny bit his tongue. He couldn’t say it, not outloud. It was too difficult, he’d spent too long hiding it, pushing it away and doing everything he could to keep anyone from noticing. 
“Why can’t you do it anymore?” Clockwork answered for him, Danny nodded. “The simple answer is that you aren’t like Vladimir, despite what he believes and would like you to believe as well. But that’s something else you already know. Ask me a question you don’t have the answers for.”
Danny grabbed another cookie, biting into it fiercely just to have an excuse not to speak. It tasted really good, better than anything he’d had in a while and Danny wondered if maybe there was something in it meant to sate his less human cravings. The thought didn’t help his inner turmoil. 
Clockwork smiled softly at him though and sighed, “Fine, in order to answer your question, first I have one of my own.”
“Didn’t you just say you know everything?” Danny mumbled before shoving more cookie in his mouth. 
“What good is a teacher that only lectures?” Clockwork said in retort, “do you remember how you died?”
He did, of course he did. “Kinda hard to forget that. Lab accident, electrocution, nothing fancy.” he said, curling in on himself. Clockwork had been right before, it was painful to talk about. But he wanted, no, needed the answers to his questions. He’d survive this. 
“Well, that’s where your first mistake lies. Yes, that is what stopped your heart, and likely the most memorable part, but you didn’t die from that Daniel. What killed you came after.”
Danny frowned, “that doesn’t make any sense? What happened after?”
“Your spirit was never particularly bound to your body in the first place, likely due to your parents dabbling where they shouldn’t for as long as they did before you were ever born. There was a summoning, I think you remember, that your parents were holding when your accident happened on the floor below them.”
It was frustrating, that he was right. That he knew it. “I remember them recognizing me, my spirit. I remember them finding my body and shoving me back in. I remember the pain, and waking up and seeing-” Danny choked on the realization. It couldn’t be...
“Seeing the world in your dreams?” Clockwork asked, “the way you saw it when you were a spirit, free from the confines of your body, correct?” He floated over the table, sat next to Danny, and placed a hand on his back. Danny realized he had been shaking. 
He grabbed the fabric of his jeans in a tight grip and tried to stop, “It’s all real, right? It isn’t… I’m not still dreaming? Please, I need to know.”
The hand on his back pulled him close, tucked into Clockwork’s side and Danny felt comforted despite himself, he fought to blink away tears that had been building behind his eyes as he tucked himself into Clockwork’s side. He was so solid, unlike any other ghost Danny had ever met and he seemed to radiate comfort where most just gave off fear and hurt. 
“You’re not dreaming Daniel, you never were. The world is different when you see it  through our eyes, that is all. When you woke up, you weren’t human anymore. Of course you wouldn’t be limited by a human’s sight.”
Danny curled into himself tighter, despair clouding around him and likely leeching unpleasantly into the air. It would be a wonder if Clockwork didn’t feel it. “So I’m a ghost.”
“Hardly,” Clockwork said and Danny stopped breathing, “Do you think the world is so simple it is split between what is ghostly and what is not?”
“I…” Danny had actually assumed that. So far everything they’d dealt with so far, short of Vlad, had either been a ghost or spirit of some kind, or a human that used magic or ghostly artifacts. Even Vlad had simply been a person who had learned how to control his own spirit the way a ghost would. If Danny wasn’t a human, and he wasn’t a ghost, then what was he?
Clockwork ruffled his hair, “I suppose you’re young. It is easier, afterall, to think of it that way. But Daniel, ghosts don’t have physical forms. They can possess one, or control one, and sometimes even mimic one, but they are spirits.”
He sighed, “you are something entirely different. You’re something remarkable.”
Danny leaned back, using the sleeves of his hoodie to quickly dry his tears so he could look Clockwork in the eye, “What am I?”
“You’re new.”
Danny shoved him, “Agghh, I knew that you jerk!” It was probably a bad idea to attack or antagonize someone as clearly powerful and knowledgeable as Clockwork, but really he’d been asking for it. And Danny’s patience was only so strong. 
Clockwork didn’t fight him back though, nor did he get offended. Instead he just smiled that soft smile that Danny was starting to realize was affection, and said, “did you? Weren’t you trying to read my books to find out if there was anyone else like you?”
“Well yeah-” Danny stopped, “Oh. There wouldn’t be anything would there? If I’m the first?”
He groaned, that really was just his luck. He’d never figure out anything at this rate. Clockwork, the bastard, just hummed and grabbed another cookie, offering it to him. “No there wouldn’t. But you’re not the only one who was the first or only of their kind. Who had to figure out on their own, who and what they are.”
“You mean Vlad?” Danny asked, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth, wow he really hoped he didn’t mean Vlad.
Clockwork’s smile turned brittle, “I don’t mean Vlad.”
Danny chuckled, his thoughts turning mischievous, “I don’t know, he seems pretty unique, what with all those different abilities he has and the way he can choose to be human or ghost-”
“Oh please,” Clockwork interrupted, “there’s plenty of humans like Vladimir Masters, you were fully capable of astral projecting like that from birth, no black magic necessary. Just because he found a way to twist-”
He stopped, then looked down at Danny who was trying and failing to hold back a shit eating grin. All at once the air seemed to leave him and he deflated, the irritated look on his face replaced with open and honest affection and Danny felt it sing in the air around them.
“You were messing with me.”
“To be fair I didn’t think it would work, all knowing and everything.” Danny said, unable to fight the bubbling feeling in his chest as it rose to meet the affection around them. Usually it sucked having the empathy of a ghost and being near one or at least, something with the same traits. The negative emotions tended to bounce between him and them and amplify and it always made Danny struggle to parse his own emotions from theirs. But right now, in the top of a clock tower with the most powerful entity Danny had ever met, he felt happiness and joy to a degree he’d long forgotten. It was dizzying. He was almost giddy with it.
Clockwork patted him on the head, purposefully messing his hair, “yes well. I think in time, it will be more obvious just how different you truly are, how crucial every small coincidence was that came together that night to create you. But until then, you had another question? I can answer it now.”
Danny frowned as he realized what Clockwork meant, “You! I asked that question first! How did you only answer the one you wanted to!!”
“It was important,” Clockwork said, relaxing into the couch next to Danny, “to answer that question I had to be sure you knew what you were.”
He sputtered, “But I don’t?! I’m just something new! Something different!”
“Something physical that exists with the laws of the spiritual.”
“Yeah!” Danny said, “Wait, what?”
Clockwork nodded his head, “a physical entity that exists within the realms of spiritual possibility. It must be such a struggle, to deal with both sets of instincts like that.”
Danny’s head hurt, it was too much to try and understand the details of all of this. Maybe Tucker was right and he should just have let it be, learn to live with the new normal his life was now. Wasn’t that kind of what Clockwork was suggesting anyways? Then again, unlike Tucker, he did seem to thrive off of all of Danny’s questions, whether he actually answered them or not. 
“Yeah, I have to fight my more ghostly instincts all the time. It’s exhausting.” he said, leaning into Clockwork. It should have been embarrassing, seeking comfort like that, but he’d already cried into his shoulder and there wasn’t really any way to come back from that so Danny did as he pleased. 
He felt Clockwork’s hand return to his back, a solid comforting presence, “Now why would you do that?”
Danny tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”
“Why would you fight against one half of yourself so thoroughly? But embrace the other side entirely?” Clockwork elaborated. “Did you think there wouldn’t be any consequences in fighting against your nature?”
“But,” Danny struggled to speak, pieces of the puzzle he’d thought hopeless putting themselves together in ways he had never expected and didn’t quite understand, “my nature is bad.”
Clockwork frowned and turned to look at Danny properly, “Daniel, it’s your nature. There is nothing good or bad about it. It is only as it is. Everything is as it’s meant to be.”
This was too much, Danny sat up fully and turned entirely towards Clockwork, “are you saying, the way I become that thing from my nightmare, is by… doing what I’ve been doing to avoid becoming that thing?!”
“Yes,” Clockwork answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
He blinked, the answer really couldn’t be that easy. “But in my dream, I, my instincts-”
Clockwork grabbed a cookie and placed it in his hands, “even humans react poorly, when they starve themselves. As you exist now, you simply need a different kind of sustenance. One you’ve been denying.”
Danny felt dread crawl down the length of his spine, “what kind of sustenance?”
“Spirits exist for reasons, and they exist differently from humans. In order to keep existing they need emotions, experiences, something to keep them held together. A spirit that has no reason to exist will simply disappear, you’ve seen such before it is relatively common after all. But you can’t do that, since you are physical in a way that they are not. You can starve yourself endlessly, into madness even if you’re desperate enough.”
“I do it to myself?” Danny asked, flustered and frustrated. It was true then? He really was his own worst enemy? 
Clockwork shook his head, “it is not inevitable Daniel. As you were, it was the most likely path forward. Yes. You would have noticed the symptoms, seen yourself losing control and then, in reaction, suppressed yourself further. Starved yourself further.”
Danny cringed, yeah, that sounded like him. “How do I stop it then? I just embrace what makes me ghostly? What about my parents? If they think they failed the resurrection, that I’m not human anymore, they’ll kill me for real! Or worse!”
“That is indeed troublesome, and the paths of the future where they know your truth are twisted and sharp, every small decision every tiny change causing a greater effect on their reactions as a whole. But you do not need to reveal yourself to your parents to live your truth.”
Relieved, Danny fell back into the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he’d floated off of it, was that good? Bad? He shook his head, this was all too confusing. “How then?” He asked, maybe this time he’d actually get a straight answer. 
Clockwork ruffled his hair and stood up, er, well, floated up and over towards the fire. “You continue doing what you’re doing with your friends, protecting your town and interacting with the truth of the world around you. And…” He turned around, “you can come visit me. It’s quite lonely in the clock tower they trapped me in, and there is much I can teach you about becoming. I had to learn such things about myself once after all.”
“You’ll let me come back? To visit you?” Danny didn’t know what to say. He could come visit, ask more questions, get more answers. It seemed too good to be true, and Danny found himself eager and excited at the prospect. 
For some reason, the entire conversation, he’d thought this would be a one time thing. That the clocktower would disappear behind him and leave any question he didn’t ask unanswered. To find out that wasn’t the case, that he had somehow, against all odds, made some kind of ghostly ally, was beyond expectations. “You’ll help me?”
The answering smile had Danny floating out of his seat, “Of course Daniel. I’ll even bake cookies.” 
152 notes · View notes
mashiraostail · 3 years
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I just started my period and my endometriosis makes it an actual living hell, and the only thing getting me through is imaging my favorite bois rubbing my tummy and giving me snacks. So it gave me the idea for this request, Vlad King, Gang Orca and Fatgum with a s/o on their period and just them being rlly soft and gentle
hey everyone! turns out the health problems I mentioned earlier are slightly more serious than I originally thought but this blog and writing is a huge comfort for me so I won’t go away completely but posting is probably gonna be pretty irregular! That being said I also imagine my fave bois around me when I’m having a bad pain day so this was actually sort of helpful to write I hope it helps you too anon! I kept it gender-neutral bc everyone gets periods ofc! (also I always write the reader living in apartments bc I live in one sdfs if that bothers anyone let me know and I’ll try to keep it in mind!)
Sekijiro Kan/ Vlad King: When he enters a basically pitch black and silent apartment Vlad’s a little concerned. You had mentioned not feeling well so he hates the idea that you went out on your own, even to just run a small errand, the idea that you wouldn’t ask him to do that sort of thing when you weren’t feeling good actually makes him a little upset he makes a mental note to talk to you about it when you’re feeling better. The sink still had dishes in it and all the blankets by the couch were unfolded plus the basket of unfolded laundry in the hall, all of it pointed to you feeling under the weather. Though it gives him an idea. He’ll at least change your bedsheets for you while your out, that way when you get back he can usher you to bed and make sure you get nice and comfortable. When he nudges your bedroom door open to do just that he’s greeted by the sight of you. Or the lump that is probably you huddled underneath your covers. “You’ve been here the whole time?” Judging by the way you shuffle into bed at his voice you’ve been awake too. He quickly makes his way over to you and sits on the edge of your mattress, “didn’t you hear me come in? You should have called me over.” He pulls the blanket down a little bit, “and here I thought you went out. I was getting ready to scold you and everything, I had a whole speech in my head.”  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t bother getting up the energy to call you, I figured you’d come in here eventually.” Despite being awake your eyes were shut. Though your face does relax a bit at the feeling of his thumb brushing your temple.  “Can you tell me what's wrong? What doesn’t feel good?” His other fingers curl around the shell of your ear, “can I help at all?”  “It’s just the cramps. They feel worse than usual this time.” You look up at him, “I feel like they’re always worse than last time though..” A knowing look falls onto his features.  He leans down enough to kiss the spot his thumb was brushing a moment ago, “I wish you told me sooner. I would have stopped somewhere on my way in.”  “I didn’t want to be a bother, you have enough to worry about this time of year-”  “You aren’t a bother.” Sekijiro gets up, “I’m sure I can find some stuff around here to help out, can you make it five more minutes?” You nod at that and he sighs, “okay, I only need three.”  True to his word he’s actually back remarkably fast. An armful of various things that he’d known to be helpful to you. A rice bag, a blanket from the living room, a few bottles of water and some pain pills, and a couple of assorted snacks.  “Room for me in there?” He asks over the mountain of supplies. You can’t help but grin at that.  “‘s always room for you.” He seems to perk up at that as he clambers into your bed. He’s wrapping the blanket around your shoulders before settling you between his legs. He hands you a cold bottle of water and some pain relievers. You melt thankfully into his chest as his arms come around your waist. The warmth from the rice-bag envelops your lower stomach.  “I really thought you went out to run errands.” He murmurs, arms coming tight around your shoulders, “I was worried sick. I really had an earful planned for you.”  You laugh a little at that, “I don’t think I could even get out of bed right now if I wanted to, so save it for another time. I’m sure I’ll do something to deserve it once my organs don’t feel like a smoothie.” He warbles at that and hunches over pressing his face into your neck.  “I feel so bad when you get like this. If I could take it all away and feel it for you I promise I would.”  It was sort of hard to be miserable with this guy whining at you.  “I’d never ask you to do that Seki.” You lean back into him, “I already feel a little better, thanks to you.” You feel his lips press into your skin.  “You wouldn’t have to ask I’d just do it-”  “That’s not what I meant!” You squeeze his arm, “but thank you. I do feel better, honestly.” He makes a half-convinced noise at that.  “Hm.” He settles back into the pillows more, one of his legs coils over yours before he murmurs, “want me to rub your stomach?” 
Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: Kugo’s used to being interrupted by you, he never minded, even if he was too busy to step away from his paperwork entirely he was happy to have your company if you wanted to give it to him. Normally if he stayed shut-in for over an hour and a half you’d find your way to him, ask him if he’d eaten, if he was hungry or if he needed anything, but that’s not what happened this afternoon. He finished most of his work and you hadn’t made even a slight appearance, normally you’d even pop your head in just to say hello. Or if you left for any reason you’d poke in to let him know that too. He hadn’t even heard you rustling around in the other room. Now that he considers all of that he actually finds it sort of concerning. So he gets up to look for you.  It doesn’t take him very long to find you either, you’d laid out on the couch, a blanket haphazardly was thrown around you, and a hot water bottle on your stomach, though by the looks of how long you’d been laying there, it was probably cold now. “You don’t feel well.” Kugo sounds about as unhappy as you feel, “why didn’t you come and get me?” He sits beside you. “What’s wrong? Can I help?”  “My stupid cramps.” You mutter and shuffle closer to him, “it really hurts this time..”  He sighs and lifts an arm to allow you into his side, “It is about that time now, isn’t it? I didn’t even realize it.” He closes his arm around you, “my love, call me next time, alright?” You just nod into his side. He gets the feeling that you’d rather stay wrapped up with him for a bit so he leans back onto the couch and lets you do that for a while before patting between your shoulder blades.  “This water bottle isn’t even warm anymore.” He sighs, “I bet you’ll feel a lot better in bed with a hot water bottle and a good movie.”  “I’m comfy here..” You murmur, though he could feel the tension in your forehead where it pressed into him.  “I’ll carry you.” He gets up before you can protest, taking you along for the ride of course, “do you want to stay with me while I heat this up again, or do you want me to bring you to bed, and you can wait for me there?”  “I wanna stay with you.” You lean into his neck and take a long thankful breath of him. He sighs, though his hand slides into the back of your shirt as you wrap your legs around him.  He lugs you around to heat up the water bottle, get some painkillers, and other various odds and ends before settling you into bed.  “Can I do anything else for you?” He looks sympathetically down at you. “You aren’t gonna leave are you?” You lament, holding the warm bottle against your stomach with on hand and gripping his wrist with the other. He was in fact going to leave, he figured you’d want to go to sleep or to have the bed to yourself, he couldn’t help the space he took up but he wouldn’t blame you for wanting to spread out. “Well I...I was going to go-” He trails off as your face falls, “Though I could...I’d be happy to stay and hold you, if you want me to.” He gets into bed with you after you nod him along and welcomes you into his side. “I’ll hold this here for you, just lean against me...perfect, just like that my dear..” He pulls the blankets up again with his free hand, “you can put on a movie, maybe that will help distract you.”  You shake your head as you lean into him, “I’d rather talk to you.” He nudges against your temple at that, “aren’t you sweet? What do you want to talk about my love?”  His other hand slides into the front of your shirt and his palm pressed comfortingly to your stomach his thumb brushing your sternum. The way you melt into him isn’t lost on him. “I dunno..” You murmur, “whatever you want. How are the kids in the licensing course? You haven’t mentioned them lately.” He lets out a long sigh at that.  “They’re problem children. Like usual. Though they’re promising. The problem children always are.” You laugh a little at that.  “You love kids, I see right through your tough guy act.”  “I suppose that wouldn’t be very hard for you to do.” He concedes, “I do love them, I just want them to get their heads on right. Once they do they’ll see it. Are you hungry?” His nose presses into your hair. “No.” You  murmur, “I’m pretty exhausted.”  “I can imagine being in so much pain would wear you out. Try to fall asleep. I’ll stay here with you.”  Taishiro Toyomitsu/ Fatgum: You hated bothering Tai when you knew he was probably busy or at work or just plain exhausted. But you also hated being alone when you were in so much pain. So when you texted him asking if he was busy and saying you didn’t feel good you were expecting him to call you and offer to stay on the phone with you for a little. You aren’t sure why you underestimate him sometimes. “Hey, sugar?” Though you can’t say you aren’t happy to hear his voice. “You in here?”  “Uh-huh.” You call from the other side of your bedroom door.  “Ya decent?”  You snort at that. “Does it matter?” The door pops open.  “Course it matters. I don’t wanna be crude.” Though his light prodding falls short as he catches sight of you.  “Did my bug go and catch a bug?” He sits beside you, dropping the plastic shopping bag on the ground by your bed, “what’s wrong sugar?” His hand cups the back of your head lightly scratching the crown of your head and pulling you closer to him.  “I have really bad cramps.” You lament, “like really bad.” He doesn’t pull his hand away as you lean back into the pillows.  “I had a feeling it might be that. So I stopped on my way here to pick up a few things.” He assures, “we’ll fix you up in no time, or..at least fix ya up good enough that you can try to sleep these bad feelings off anyway.” He pulls out the things you expect, plugs in an electric heating pad, and hands you a cold drink. He presses a few scattered kisses to your stomach before placing the heating pad on it.  “I hate that you get so much grief from this all the time. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”  You just sigh and shake your head, “You’re doing more than enough trust me.” He hums knowingly, “oh I see.” He shuffles up into bed with you, “it may not fix all the pain your in...but some good old-fashioned kisses and cuddles might help a bit, huh? If that’s what you wanted all you had to do was ask. Come on over here.” He nestles you comfortably into his side, “and some candy too.” He squeezes you a little, “now they aren’t as sweet as your kisses, but they do make my tummy happy so I bet they’ll help you too.” You welcome the candy as he nudges it against your lips.  “It’s crazy how tough you are sometimes..but...I’m glad you don’t feel like you’ve gotta be like that with me though.” His hand rubs soothing circles between your shoulder blades.  “If it hurts and you need me I always want you to ask okay? I know I always want you around when I’m in pain.” He concedes, “if you need some love to distract you, well then I’m happy to help. Think of it like...me paying you back for all the times I come mopin’ around to you when I’m under the weather. And sugar, you’re so sweet you have me feeling better in no time. Though I’m sorry to say I may not have your magic touch. But even if it helps a little then it’s worth any trouble on my end, but it’s hardly ever any trouble and I mean that. honey.”  Truthfully his affection did wonders at warming you up from the inside out.  “I think you have a magic touch too.” You murmur, eyelids getting heavy at the feeling of his fingers scratching up your spine.  “Think so?” He grins into your forehead which he’d been pressing long slow kisses into, “that makes me really happy. You feel a little better?” “A little sleepy..” You nod and he hums.  “Then maybe no more candy.” He chuckles, “don’t look at me like that, here I’ve got some chips too. But these are my favorite so you have to share.” The gentle squeeze he gives you makes tension roll off you in waves.  “Close your eyes, I’ll take care of everything alright?”
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urlocalbunny · 3 years
Note
My request is... Boys making reader cry. It could be in an argument, by accident... As you want! 💗💗
Aaron:
You and him were arguing because you had a few disagreements over the last few days where he took more days than normal to come back home after full moon.
"I mean, where have you been this whole time?! This isn't fair at all. I was worried sick about you and you're still here trying to sound right."
The thing is, it got very cold over the days and he was practically freezing, so he stopped by some places he knew to camp while coming back home at night. He got pretty upset when he found out you and him would fight.
"Well, maybe if you stopped to listen for five minutes, you would understand that it's snowing like crazy and I went too far, that's something I have no control over and it happens time to time. I can handle myself, y/n. I'm sorry if it's not the same for you. I know I'm too much already."
You felt guilty when the silence showed the window slamming against the frame. Snow poured inside but nobody bothered to close it. He was, indeed, having a hard time coming back home. You immediately started crying because you were so worried about when he would be back, that you forgot about how he would come back. In fact, he should still be on the road. He hurried home for you.
As soon as Aaron sees the tears threatening to spill, his voice also cracks. "No... What have I done... My beloved, please don't cry. I'm so sorry. I did my best and the fact that you seemed to be angry with me frustrated me, but please... Don't cry. What can I do to make it feel better?"
You hold him tight, apologizing and explaining how worried you were and how you didn't even care about the snow outside. He let a single tear fall into your cheekbone, as you hugged and apologized to each other.
Raphael:
The fight of the day was when Raphael had one of his days where he would think about Mag again. You felt insecure while you watched the scenes unfold, and how much he still felt attached to the woman he once loved.
Raphael barges in the room, making you stop the keys on the piano and watch him, but his face didn't look so happy. He leaned against the door frame in such a weird way that it looked ominous.
You both started an argument because apparently, Raphael could feel your self-loathing over the whole situation and he seemed angry because you interfered with whatever it was that he felt. He was trying to get a point across that you didn't quite understand, until Raphael groaned and looked at you dead in the eyes as if he could see you and said it.
"Y/n. You will never be like Mag. Get this through your head once and for all!" Now, what Raphael was trying to say was that you didn't have to worry because you had another space in his heart that Mag wouldn't take away from you even if she was alive and tried, but you was so drunk in your own insecurities, that the remaining thought was the exact opposite.
When your sobs filled the room, Raphael dreaded the very first day he thought about Mag after meeting you. He ran towards you, cradling you and explaining he loves you now, and Mag was a part of his past life. But that's another story and he misses the life around that time and her company rather than her romantically.
You slowly feel the parts you didn't understand making some sense. "You are not understanding what I mean." "You are special to me, but it is different." "Mag is not here anymore, you are. I just miss her and need some time." "You are here in front of me, what are you scared of?"
You sighed in shame because you had made a mistake when it came to his healing, but Raphael didn't budge as you held each other close in the small bench.
Beliath:
Again, Beliath didn't spend the night at home and you were starting to get pissed. It's not that you cared about his parties, but damn, you were supposed to at least kiss and hug for a while, right?
"We're night creatures, Beliath. Night. It means we're only awake at night. Can't you spare some time for me? This is starting to get ridiculous." "Well, why don't you come with me instead?! You're saying this, but you're also barely making an effort too!" "So at least you're admitting you're lacking?!" "Don't be silly."
You sniffle, then attempt to strom off, but that's not on Beliath's plans. He blocks the door and you yell something he doesn't comprehend because of the sobbing. You are still young as a vampire and pushing him off proves itself hard while trembling in anger.
He sighs and rubs his face while his voice softens. "I'm an asshole, right? I just don't know what to do now that things changed. I thought you didn't need me anymore and I wasn't there for you... The truth is that I miss you every day. Not being able to sense you is... It's weird. I'm so sorry, baby. I've made you cry..."
You look at him, surprise in your eyes as you feel more tears prickling your eyes. You touch his face as he frowns and his sorrow surfaces. "I told you before... I don't know what to do with this and now that I'm feeling things for myself, I... I feel like you'll hate me."
"Beliath. I've seen you with purple eyes, all white and with weird ass veins in your body, clutching your stomach and being a drama queen. You're my man now." You look at each other for a while.
"You sure know how to cheer a man up." "..." "Don't you dare laugh at me." "I'm not g-HAHA-"
He hugs you to muffle the sound, sighing as a smile graces his face.
Vladimir:
Vladimir really didn't mean to be this negative on you and he didn't realize how much his whirlwind of emotions could resonate on you. He just wasn't sure of how much you loved him.
The argument started for a stupid reason. It was just a bunch of chores that he got into and he got a little weak from hunger. He didt realize he skipped a bite and you went to check on him after feeling rather weird.
The thing is, you tried to make sure he wouldn't skip meals anymore and it turned into an argument because he can't seem to understand that sometimes, he isn't being judged. People just genuinely love him.
After a while of slamming doors and arguing, Vladimir rubbed his face and sighed.
"I think you could understand that I'm over three hundred years old, y/n. I'm not stupid!" He sat down in the bed, glowering at you.
"Good God, Vladimir, that's not what I mean!" You sniffled, grabbing onto your pants and squeezing them. "Can't you just see I'm trying to take care of you?! I'm your partner, for fuck's sake. I honestly don't get you and I'm not capable enough to get through to you, a-and you're so over your own head that it gets hard for me to help you. Am I- am I even doing this right?"
He simply shuts you up with a kiss that knocks your breath out of your lungs and makes your head spin sweetly when you open your eyes. He's looking right at you, palms drying your tears and running on top of your face and neck.
"... I am sorry for doing this to you. Confusing you. It is being hard for me too, so please, just- please wait a little longer. I should not have worried you. You are more than what I could have asked for, my love."
Ethan:
Not understanding your man is something you had to get used to at first with Ethan. He didn't want to be understood and you had to deal with it for a while now.
The thing is, you never really knew when Ethan could strike with his good mood either. Sometimes it would be a little scary given your rough beginning. So when Ethan suddenly popped out of your door and caged you in his arms, you were a little scared.
He let a big, long sigh out, resting his chin against you for comfort. He seemed to be panting and that was all you needed to know that he was probably having a hard time keeping it together.
"It's going to rain. Don't leave me alone. Please." You didn't realize it, but you'd started sobbing. That was the first time you felt like Ethan really needed you. He cupped your face, a worried frown gracing his features.
"Babe, are you alright?" "It's just that I... I thought you'd never ask me to stay with you." This answer doesn't make Ethan happy. He closes the door, heading towards the bed and sitting with you, scoffing. His eyes scan your face as he dries your eyes.
Guilt crawls up his whole body, eating away at the little sanity he's saving. His arms tighten around you as tears stream down his face. He feels safe, sorrowful, small but at the same time, your protector.
He wasn't open to this things before. But, as the rain falls against the walls, he realizes it doesn't matter as long as it's good for you and him.
Ivan:
Being a chalice was stressful. Especially when you were a young vampire's chalice and significant other. Sometimes, Ivan didn't quite measure how he expressed his anger, and a hungry youngling was equally disastrous.
While Aaron and Vlad did their absolute best to handle the situation with you, it was hard for them to mingle into your affairs when you were romantically involved.
That's why Ivan was baring his fangs at you as you spoke to him as if he was a five year old to try and get him to move his ass off the bed and do something about his life.
That wasn't really nice of you considering he was having a really hard time with his maturing right now, you could confess, but he was really getting stressed out. You wanted to stop and admit you were wrong, but the pride swelling inside of you stopped you.
Although you felt your emotions as a human girl, Ivan was not a human anymore, when he finally snapped at you and calmly told you to stop trying to control him and changing him to your benefit, your next best reaction was to sit and cry.
"Why do you always have to be like this?!" You yelled, sobbing uncontrollably and fisting your pants angrily. "I can never win, right?! Ever since I tried to get my life together it seems... It seems like I'm supposed to be dead. But guess what? I am!"
Ivan stood there, quiet. You kicked and screamed, ashamed for throwing a tantrum, but you never really had the opportunity before in your life. He sat down beside you, holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.
"I understand you, love." He said, as he dries your tears. That was enough for you to apologize and make amends. Tomorrow was a new day.
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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years
Text
Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1
Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.
In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.
AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |
CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)
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WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.
Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.
Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.
He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.
When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.
Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.
He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.
-------
Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.
(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)
It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.
“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”
Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.
Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.
Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.
His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.
Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.
Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?
But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.
Danny doesn’t risk it.
(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)
He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.
Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.
Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)
The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.
Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.
His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.
Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.
His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.
-------
Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).
And then—
And then.
Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.
The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.
The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”
Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.
He jerked from her hold.
Burned by it.
“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”
Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”
“I don’t believe you.”
A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”
“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.
(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)
He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.
Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.
The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.
The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.
Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.
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bl-garbage · 3 years
Text
to dance is to unshackle
um, okay—how else do i express this buoyant happiness that Gaya sa Pelikula has awoken inside me? i’m in complete and utter awe. i did not expect a drop of what the sixth episode has brought us. more than satisfying, it’s utterly fascinating. this is quite a lengthy post, but if you have the time, please bear with me. and since we’re already here, let’s fucking dissect the shit out of this:
right off the bat, it’s sweet how consistently written Vlad was the entire time of the show. at the start of the episode, for one, he was concerned with Karl’s disposition, saying, “anong iniisip mo (what are you thinking)?” and, later on, as we know, he pops that question again in this episode. what are you thinking? always in limbo. true, it’s considerate, yet more than that, it’s always a sign of waiting for permission. Vlad has been like this since the beginning: observant and willing to reach out, confident on the surface, yes, but always afraid of going overboard. 
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that is not to say that Karl isn’t. in fact, the whole dynamics of their relationship rest on the fact that they can lean on each other and just be honest. many moments show this: Karl’s desire to shift; Vlad not getting  into the film lab and Karl knowing something was up; the entirety of Vlad’s birthday; Karl and Vlad’s reticence to open up to Anna, in contrast with how comfortable they feel with each other. in a nutshell, they’re each other’s homes. more on this later.
the part i was most frightened at with this episode was when Karl finally told his parents his desire to shift. to be honest, personally, i wouldn’t know exactly how that pressure on Karl feels, as i was able to study the degree i wanted. yet, back then, i had already known that my parents, who wholly supported me just the same, would have wanted a degree that leaned on science or engineering. that still sucked to know. Karl’s situation is much more complicated. his desire to shift to another course is to make up for lost time, a sense of hurrying before it really becomes all too late. this was a heavy lot to take in. the disappointment and anger in his father’s face when he dropped the bomb was too much to handle. Karl had expected it, yet its impact still hurled shrapnel that he was not able to dodge, sustaining him with several wounds. it would be curious to see how his parents come to terms with his confession. i am certain that a number of people have connected with Karl here.
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which brings me to another point. Gaya sa Pelikula creates these characters with their own agency. it’s touted as a BL series, yes, but our two main characters’ point is actually not to fall in love — but to live, part of which is to fall in love. they have their hopes and dreams and own burdens to carry, and while falling in love takes centerstage here, we see how they can stand alone, on their own two feet. falling in love is central to their growth, but it is evident that love is not the whole point of their existence. 
speaking of which: ate judit. ah, yes, where do i even begin to explain the exquisiteness with which ate judit was written? how, after all of five episodes, it was only now did it make sense why judit was overly, unnaturally caring and protective, a mama bear that would not let anything happen to his little Vlad. now we know why: guilt.  
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imagine that. being told you were the reason why your whole family went into shambles. there is much vindication in Vlad’s line of questioning, “why would you say that to a child?” (god, i’m tearing up even as i write this.) this was a pivotal scene, with a focal point on judit, the likes of whom we cannot entirely fault for not knowing any better. the fact remains that we are still in an era that fails to understand the spectrum of gender identities and the far utopia that we seek, where gender and sex would not be a damning classification anymore. and for true allies, it is in admitting that they “didn’t know then what [they] know now” that their support gains more strength. it is in confessing where they got wrong, how harmful their actions were, and in the commitment to do more, that their promise is made good.
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parenthetically, can we talk about Vlad’s mom as well? have you all noticed how her voice broke when she said, “siguraduhin mong hindi ka na itatanggi niyan, ha (just make sure he won’t deny you, okay)?” was that pain, or guilt even? i wonder if we’re ever going to see her. it would be a regret not to. for so long Vlad had thought that he was the reason his father left, and that his mother was mad at his queerness. i wouldn’t want this simple call to be the resolution that the show had for him. at any rate, we have two more episodes to await, so i am not going to strike my gavel on this judgment just yet.
but whereas Vlad found his longtime coming reconciliation with his sister, Karl had no one to turn to. his call to Vlad was a cry for help. it was heartbreaking to see him like this. Karl had always put up a fake smile against any adversity that had come his way. to him, these were trivial matters that would pass, and they did so — until now. after all he was, as we would later come to know, living a script that had been prewritten before he even came to being. that explains his nonchalant demeanor toward life, the seeming discontent behind those dead eyes, and a repeated hinting that he was always yearning for so much more. at the end of the call, Karl instinctively goes to the closet - and his proverbial closet - and sees the skeletons he had hidden inside, drop in a mess. 
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that it was Karl’s brother who was in the photo shook me. that past was so well thought out. things made so much sense in this episode: why Karl tried to fit in, why everything seemed so fake. why he was so discomforting to watch, even! that made sense now.  
and what do you do when everything has become a mess? the once seamless film that had been rolling without any glitches now sprawled on the floor, entangled in a hodgepodge well beyond fixing. when that happens, what do you do? well, you dance.
i have so many things to say about faux masculinity. it is a fact undisputed that in this society, gender roles are still very much pillars that we have yet to dismantle. our genders have been geared toward performativity, and our consolation is the external validation we receive through the acts of fitting in. in the process, we lose sight of what we really want. we blur the lines between what is and what should be, in favor of what society has demanded upon us. Karl took that role and lived by it religiously. yet, those things has gone haywire in this episode. more than his parents, it was to himself that Karl has finally admitted that the act can be dropped now: the fixed posture, those rehearsed lines, that painfully faux masculinity, on guard all the fucking time. all of those things were dropped.
that is not to say that Karl was faking all of it. there is no denying that Karl has been a masculine person most of the time. but the show portrayed before us a discarded femininity that Karl had been trying to bury deep inside him — one that all people who have been and who are still in the closet know by heart. the thing is, all of us have masculine and feminine sides, the expression of which vary at different levels in different situations. sadly, we have been preconditioned to believe that male persons must be masculine, and female persons must be feminine. Gaya sa Pelikula acknowledges this hegemony, and then throws it away all the same. true, Karl may very well be comfortable in his masculine expression, but his femininity must also be allowed to grow. one cannot be complete without embracing the entirety of who they are. many have died — been killed — for simply living who they are. society has long been a vicious environment. but people have also long fought for their fundamental right to perform these things, and through them, we know that things can change. that things are changing.
it is against this context that imprints more meaning, more gravity to when we finally, finally see Karl dance. in every sense, his dance was the show’s climax for me. it is, quite emphatically, freedom incarnate.
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when i say i fucking bawled at this scene, you best believe it.
quite important to note: when Karl sees Vlad, he stopped abruptly, only for Vlad to signal to him, in an OK sign, that what he was doing was perfectly fine. that Karl could be effeminate all he wants, and who the hell in this earth should care? this allowance has given Karl all the needed validation he will ever need, at least, for that one night where they could bare it all. it was only the two of them, but the house has never been more crowded, because their feelings have seemingly exploded and have been overflowing in a glorious climax for all of us to witness. in this scene, Karl has unshackled the chains with which he had been bound all that time, and it was Vlad who helped him finally break the last of those chains. in this moment, there was only pure bliss.
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(that the song playing here was Ride Home by ben&ben is the perfect giveaway. for non-Filipino readers who have only listened to ben&ben now, check this band out. it’s one of the best bands to have ever come out of the Philippine music industry.)
and, of course, in this waterfall of emotions, it is only perfect to time the moment of their first kiss. they have accepted each other, haven’t they? in a meaningful act (the gravity of which we will only realize in full later when Vlad tells the story of his dad), Karl rumpled Vlad’s hair, but only after Vlad had already consented to it. then, afterward, it was Vlad’s turn to ask, what are you thinking? to which Karl had this—and i know we all expected it, nevertheless—to say: i don’t want to think anymore. then they kissed.
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i swear to god. i only watched this for the 92432475781 time.
the denouement was so well put, too: now everything is put back into its own place. Karl’s brother. his death. his parents’ expectations. the substitution. Vlad’s father. his parents’ expectations. the horror of realizing one’s difference. the abandonment. in these stories, it becomes more and more permissible to believe that Karl and Vlad have easily found comfort in each other. to say that they are soulmates (as the creator, juan miguel severo, told on his twitter) is not an exaggeration.
and, make no mistake: Karl and Vlad did not find each other’s embraces out of pity. no. it would be unduly harsh to view them that way. rather, they found solace in each other’s embrace and warmth, but it is still they who will muster the courage to face their own demons. the only difference is, they now have each other to find some sort of release. they are not destructively dependent on each other; instead, they help each other grow into the versions of themselves that they can be proud of.
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finally, a couple of small things: look at the way Karl was inviting Vlad to lie in bed with him. that simple gesture harks us back to the early days of their dynamics: Vlad had expressed that it was okay to share a bed, but Karl was adamant that they do not. Karl had once dreamed of Vlad joining him there, and that scared him shitless. in contrast to that, now we have this: Karl himself inviting Vlad, and Vlad accepting for Karl’s wholehearted invitation. the moment this happened, there was a consummation of the expression of their love. if they had their doubts prior to this, those could not have been more obliterated now. 
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needless to say, i fucking, fucking loved this. as one who has only ever written three fanfics (2gether and History 2!), all of which seemingly related to sleeping (what the fuck, do i have a sleep fetish or something), this ending to episode 6 is just the cherry on top. 
their lines by the end particularly strike me. here we have Karl who wishes to create his own stories. on the other hand is Vlad who wishes that he be in charge of the endings, too. how do they do that? who knows? but the certainty that defines their pact is that they shall do it together, unbound and free to dance to the song they have chosen of their own accord. and that simple promise, made in each other’s tight embrace under artificially warm lights amid that early january weather, with no certainty at all of what tomorrow has to bring, has made all the difference. 
in 34 minutes, Gaya sa Pelikula has, yet again, done more than we could have ever expected.
i just checked and this reached 2k words. i’m not even gonna attempt to proofread this anymore. anyway, this is all i have to say for now. i just simply cannot let go of the best episode i’ve seen in this show without expressing my own reaction to it. 
(also: i’m thinking of writing a fanfic; that is, the morning after. just a one-shot, hopefully a cute one. as usual, an introspection of these characters, and what lies ahead. hope i actually get to write it!)
thank you so much, Gaya sa Pelikula. you are proof that things do change.
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emily-the-fae · 3 years
Text
Sound of a Heartbeat
Part 4. Negotiations, Exortions and Stories of the Past
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6
Surprisingly, this story continues to move further for me.
Back to the characters where we left them in the previous part - with some heated arguments and intimate talks.
Pairing: Dracula x OC
Warnings: none, apart from lung diseases, wounds and Adrian being a total sweetheart
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Next morning Shari woke up to sounds of footsteps and hushed speech. Straight away she knew the upcoming conversation will have to be one hell of a diplomatic achievement – how do you explain your sudden desire to leave to a group of half vampire, speaker and a vampire hunter who were most probably fighting for your life during the last three days. Trevor would be completely furious. Better stand next to Sypha when presenting the decision, just in case he suddenly has the wish to use his whip. You never know how the Belmont reacts, though possibly Shari could still drag it through without making a big fuss – Lisa was definitely right about one thing: she has made a habit of negotiating her way with people, especially the ones that were apprehensive or disliked her. Truth to say, nine out of ten were either of the two.
- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?
- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?
- So far I wasn't so much required, you guys can carry on perfectly well without me.
- I'm still not sure if it is a good idea, Shari, if you want to get some rest by leaving... It may only be more dangerous for you, - Sypha argued.
- Don’t you even think of supporting her! She took a few years off our lifespans with this incident! We can’t just let you…
- No, wait, you don't get it, I...
- Shari!
- Stop bossing me around, Trevor, I am not a child! I have not finished.
- Trevor, please calm down, she is neither under your command, nor your sibling. If she wants to leave, it is her choice, - Adrian stepped in, clearly annoyed with the three.
- See? I can perfectly… - Shari tried to pick up.
- Shari, - Adrian interrupted. – Can I speak with you privately?
The healer was genuinely startled for a moment. She turned to look Adrian in the eyes – probably for the first time since the incident – trying to estimate his emotions and plan her defense strategy. She was never scared of him – or at least she never showed that he scared her sometimes, because surely being sane and realistic she could not ignore the obvious danger presented by those sharp fangs and golden eyes. Still Shari was used to considering him a friend, his malevolent side almost unable to turn against her.
Now she was startled and – honestly – slightly scared. For a moment she thought she saw it in his eyes that he looked right through her: that he perhaps watched her and Lisa or sensed her thoughts or some other vampire telepathy kind of thing. That maybe he thought she was a traitor.
Then he smiled warmly and nodded his head to the side, gesturing for her to follow him away from Trevor and Sypha – and Shari straight away knew whatever it was, he was ready to be on her side.
- Are you sure you need this resting? I mean clearly you do, you are paler than father when he wakes up, but still… Sari, I know you are stronger than you look, but a witch traveling alone during such a time doesn’t seem the brightest idea to me, - Adrian spoke quickly and quietly, for others not to hear their discussion. Shari felt ashamed for how it continued to surprise her that he sounded genuinely concerned.
- Adrian, I’ll be fine. I swear. I just… I don’t feel well…for, let’s say, various reasons, not only the attack. It just suddenly occurred to me that since your father seems to be watching and purposefully slowing you down, it may be a good decision for me to…
- To not stick around and lower the risk of encountering him or strong specifically directed demons? – she nodded in response. – Well, I can get that… And Shari, - he suddenly took her hand, his tone turning uncharacteristically warm. – I’m sorry.
- You don’t have to. We already spoke about…
- Not about that. About your disease. I’m so sorry. If only I knew how to help you – I could have known the way, you know, I once had the access to knowledge that could have… I’m so sorry for you.
They stood in silence for a few moments. Shari found herself unable to look into his eyes, staring at the ground.
- For how long have you known? – she rasped, barely recognizing her own quiet voice.
- Almost as soon as we met… Shari, I…
- Don’t. It’s alright, Adrian, I just didn’t realize you knew and this struck me a little…
- Do you know where you will be heading? – if she ever was grateful to him for anything – though she was grateful for plenty of things to be fair – it was his ability to catch onto the atmosphere and change the topic when it is very much needed.
- I… yeah sure, of course I do, I have a rough plan of what to do. Thanks, - she coughed dryly a few times, still refusing to lookup and meet his gaze.
- Shari?
- Yes.
- Promise me you will be fine. Not to be dramatic, but I… have gotten used to you quite a lot.
Shari chuckled.
- Will do my best, - she finally looked up at him and saw the half-vampire smile broadly. – I’ve gotten pretty used to you too, you overgrown puppy, - they stood in silence for some time.
- Almost forgot, one last thing before we face the storm of unacceptance named Trevor, - he blurted out, when she moved tostep away and turn back to the campsite.
- Yes?
Adrian did not say a word – he simply opened his arms and Shari fell into the embrace without even thinking. She felt utterly childish for being this familiar with him. She also felt it was nice to have someone to turn to when feeling torn and exhausted without having to explain the whirlwind of emotion in your head.
Shari shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Adrian who let her go with such ease. He knew he could trust her decisions, he always did. She was somewhat flattered by the way he treated her as an advisor and assistant even though she was no way as knowledgeable as him; the half-vampire always showed that he believed she had an own analyzed perspective of things, that she wouldn’t be reckless. This time though his trust in her rationality might have failed him. Any way it was, he openly supported her decision and expressed the hope that she would be able to catch up with them in some time.
Shari knew Trevor thought Dracula hypnotized her into surrender and laughed at it to herself. If only he had a clue that it was the human Dracula's wife who controlled her.
In the end of that emotionally exhausting morning they finally parted ways: the trio went in the direction of the closest town, hesitant to leave their friend, but unwillingly agreeing it should be done for greater good; Shari stayed at the campsite with Rodo for a bit longer, motivating it with the need of rest. Adrian threw a concerned glance in her direction, but said nothing. The vampire felt there was something wrong, but decided to let it slide, since he had already supported her decision; if she said she needed rest, then so be it.
In fact, although Shari did tell him she had a rough plan of further action, in reality she had little to no ideas in which direction to move and absolutely no wish of discussing it with thin air in front of her disbelieving friends: they would definitely not see Lisa and they would definitely think she was hallucinating after the attack. To be fair, she could never herself be sure if that wasn't exactly the case. Maybe she was talking to an imaginary friend. However, since she had already decided to believe in the ghost's existence, she had to play along that assumption.
Lisa didn’t leave her waiting and appeared as soon as they were left alone, Shari sitting by the campfire a little lost and a little tired; a victorious smile played on the ghost's lips, as she sat by the fire next to the girl. Rodo made no sign of noticing their guest, only slightly shaking his furry head and letting out a jawn.
- What? - asked Shari, annoyed by the constant attention of the ghost. She took the cattle off the fire and set it aside to cool down a bit. She needed something warm to drink if she wanted to keep her blood and lungs inside her body.
- We have to move out, - Lisa smiled, now more gently, watching the human's movements.
- It would be nice if I knew where we went, - replied Shari, slowly looking around, taking in the little amount of her personal belongings lying about - there wouldn't be much packing when she would have finally decided to pick herself off the ground.
- I'll guide you.
- What if you disappear?
- I won't.
- What if I don't want to go? What if you only tell me that you are leading me to the castle, while in reality you will lead me to Dracula? That is actually most probably what is going to happen, - Shari finally expressed her greatest worry and doubt. She could not just trust Lisa, she wanted to, but couldn't bring herself to do so. The woman was most probably still here because of them - Dracula and Adrian - so her greatest concern would be to stop their fight in any way possible in order to finally peacefully leave them, not care about some girl getting hurt in the process.
- I believe you will just have to trust me. I have told you already, I only want to stop this war with as little blood as possible, especially when it comes to Adrian’s or Vlad-I meant Dracula’s blood. You will be of very little help to me if I simply spend time leading you to your death. Besides, I shall remind you, that your illness is not exactly leading you to a happy life, so you decided trusting me on that one, - Lisa winked at her and stood up; Shari clenched her teeth: well, that was a very good point, but definitely a blow-below-the-waist strategy. - We should move out, the sooner we start - the quicker we'll be there.
- You know, you're like an older sister that I never wished to have, - Shari huffed in annoyance, but finished her tea quickly and proceeded to pack. The fact that she was annoyed didn't cancel the fact that Lisa was right. She had to move out.
***
The day trip was completely uneventful. The few villages they had passed didn't show any signs of having been attacked, but Lisa still made Shari keep away from them - maybe it was for the best, people were very unsafe these days, the fear made them aggressive to any newcomers. Especially to ones possessing magical powers and followed by black wolf-demons. Going alone to such a village could be suicidal.
It was only at the age of ten, that Shari found out she had it in her. That one trait that made people wish your head on a pike no matter how you behave. Animals weren't just "friendly" with her, no-no, friendly is one understandable thing, especially with a little child. However, "friendly" is definitely not the most accurate description of the behaviour of the large black wolf that almost attacked her one day on the edge of the woods, stopping in mid-jump as the girl turned to face it - next picture: the wolf rolling on the ground before her like and ordinary dog demanding bellyrubs. The animals would not simply like her, they would obey her as if she spoke to them directly. She had no idea where the power came from and so preferred to think she was born into her witchcraft. Her mother insisted upon it too, saying that poor old gramma was the same odd thing in her youth. At least that was what Shari remembered her saying when they did discuss her little problem. That was until she turned sixteen – until she suddenly was separate from her family and out on her own. Until the first time the people wanted to get her burned. First of many more to come.She had learned to control herself and make use of herself, never expressing anything people would see as dark wizardry, nothing even seemingly malevolent, working for the local healer, helping out as much as she could and learning some things here or there by herself about herbs and illnesses - not a study, barely a child's curiosity.
Then it was a year of particularly poor crops after an awfully dry summer, Shari sensed it was coming before she ever knew why it was so - the villagers had no other way of dealing with such misfortunes. They placed all the blame on the odd girl who learned to cure wounds and diseases and spoke to the wild animals as she pleased. Burning witches was a very common sacrifice, after all.
The night before the burning was the night she ran. She knew they would come for her, so she escaped before they could get her, left her home to set to travel into unknown. And never truly stopped running ever since.
Lisa pitied her for that, even though Shari tried to brush it off as nothing. She was a witch after all and turned to be quite a good thief, quite some reason for the other humans to hate her already, even though she couldn't say theft pleased her herself - she was surviving the way she could: moving about and healing didn't ever buy her enough bread or material. The longest she ever stayed in a town was three months - then the cycle had to start over.
Lisa understood her reasoning for that quite well. At first she wanted to argue that staying longer might have bought Shari some trust, but held her tongue - she wasn't one to give that sort of advice, not now, not after everything that happened to her exactly for staying a little too long.
When they finally stopped for the night, Shari was almost falling - her legs unwilling to carry her anymore - and bending over in loud wet coughs, feeling the taste of her own blood in her mouth and suffocating in attempts to hold back from even more coughing. The freezing weather and bloodloss, even compensated with Sypha's magic, were not going to make this journey easier for her. Shari felt the feather light caress of the ghost's hand on her back and breathed in deeply, trying to calm her heartrate.
There was pain in her ribs now too - she was scratched quite badly a few days ago by one of the attacking demons. They were fighting off several of the things and one jumped her from behind: neither she nor Rodo had noticed it before. Shari succeeded in turning to face it, making the demon bounce off her and back away as soon as she made eye contact - these things were usually not much harder to control than wolves, especially with Rodo at her side. Unfortunately, before she managed to kick it off completely, the demon had left an unpleasant scratch across her ribcage, making her fall to the ground and lose the mental contact - the beast jumped back on her in a matter of seconds and for a moment Shari thought that would be her end. Only by luck Adrian was swift enough to protect her, fighting the thing away and aiding her to recover later - the sharp claws left three deep gashes on her skin and the girl had to spend a long time tending to herself after the fight, hoping the wound would not get infected with whatever those things could carry on their paws.
The wound had been nicely bandaged before, all was going well, but apparently Dracula's attack had erased that bit of responsibility from her memory and now Shari suddenly faced yet another problem: rebandaging was not only desirable, but very much a necessity by the time she dropped to the ground, settling for the night. The soaked and dried blood on the old bands now scratched and tore at the healing wound, causing her pain.
- ‘T is okay, - she told the ghost, quickly going to sit down on the ground. Removing the band did not take much time as well as putting on a new one-not when she was used to doing it anyways, but removing a part of her clothes let the cold bite her even more in the process, so when she was finished, she was freezing to the bone, so she wrapped herself in whatever warm cloths she had left and pressed closer to Rodo, to keep at least some body heat to herself. They decided to make no fires, as Shari was now mostly defenseless and the girl already felt how much she would regret parting ways with her friends. Lisa's care and Rodo's warm side couldn't do much to keep away the cold and her lungs were almost screaming in protest. She looked at Lisa's pitiful apologetic face and whispered: - I'm already used to it, - no you aren't, this is getting worse by second and you desperately need a fire.
- You have to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow we'll start off at dusk, - Shari lay between Rodo's back and a large tree trunk; Lisa sat next to her head, looking down at the tired healer.
- I wish it was just as easy for me to move as it is for you, - Shari whispered sleepily.
- Trust me, you don't, - both laughed.
- How much is there left? Of the way?
- If you're lucky - and persistent, we may be there by tomorrow night, - Lisa answered reassuringly.
- Really? That's so fast... Too fast, to be fair. I thought the castle was hard to catch, - she stared back at Lisa.
- Parts of it yes, it moves as a whole. But there are stable parts - that one particular entrance was the one I used when I first found him. It was very hard to track - not many know about it, it's kind of in magically protected grounds or something - nobody has the incentive to go there, - the ghost explained.
- But you had, - Shari smirked.
- Of course I had.
- I wonder how he hadn’t killed you straight away.
- Oh, but he wanted to. He tried to frighten me – told me he would drink my blood, all that classical stuff.
- So what did you do?
- Told him his manners needed repolishing.
Pause. Shari chuckled. Then snorted. Then laughed out loud.
- And he did not murder you for such an offense?
- I believe he wanted to for a moment, but was too startled to act… And then it sort of…happened. I believe it was a big “why not” for both of us, until we suddenly saw something deeper to it, - Lisa smiled to herself, seemingly diving through memories.
- Sounds a little like me meeting Adrian for the first time – God knows I saw those large fangs and yellow eyes straight away, I knew very well what he was, just couldn’t…
- Can’t beware the dark, when it’s choice between stepping in or watching someone suffer?
- Something of the kind. My self-preservation goes way below. I called him in when I saw him bleeding out by the edge of the town – half expected him to drain me as soon as I bandaged him and when he… well, as you can see, didn’t… We just talked. He stayed over for a week gaining strength, not attempting to eat me – I guess that was the first out of the only two occasions when someone I have helped did not try to accuse me of devilish business in one way or another and just accepted the help. Of course he had to be not human.
- The second time that happened was with Rodo, wasn’t it? Humans don’t tend to be overly grateful.
Both chuckled.
- Adrian seems quite attached to you, - Lisa turned to Shari. – Thanks for that. For accepting him. I was always worried that he will have a hard time fitting in…pretty much anywhere, being what he is. So thank you.
- No need to. He is nice, your son. Feels like having a friend for once.
Pause. Shari shrugged and sighed.
- Tomorrow, you said, right? Though I can't say that I'm exactly lucky, so your prediction about the time is probably too optimistic, we are bound to have some struggle tomorrow,- she huffed, turning to her side and snuggling to Rodo's furry back.
- The castle shouldn't be so far away, it is quite close to Tragoviste, shouldn't have taken us long, - Lisa explained. - And you are lucky, sunshine - remember? You survived Dracula's bite. That mark on your neck is your lucky ticket now, - Lisa winked and lay back against the tree trunk. Shari wanted to think of a witty reply, but was interrupted by another violent fit of cough and decided to let it go. The healer cuddled into Rodo’s warm side and fell into uneasy sleep, hoping that the morning would bring at least some relief.
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Yeah, forget side content, just gonna steam on ahead with the Sports Festival and onwards. I might not actually stop and start trying to do overarching plot stuff until ~chapter 100 (more specifically, post ch 97, the last chapter of the Kamino Arc) because then there will be enough material to actually like. Do stuff. Might also have something smaller after the Sports Festival since that’s ~chapter 50. Shrugs.
Anyways, onwards. Don’t you miss the days when the main trio of the series was Izuku, Tenya, and Ochako? Man, don’t I. :(
[No. 22 - That’s the Idea, Ochako!]
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Character sheet! I am honestly laughing super hard at everything because just. ‘Very Ochako.’ Thank you, Horikoshi. A few things about the sheet:
1) god I love that her fingerpads are called soft. Like. Actual cat paw pad fingers going on here. just imagine if you like pressed one of them like you do with cat paw pads and like, she had cat claws that would extend. cute but also menacing.
2) strong legs. leg day squad. her, izuku, and iida all doing leg day workouts together tho... katsuki wishes he had the leg strength of those three y'all
3) That quirk description… that’s not quite how centrifugal forces work, but I mean. Superhero comic physics. At least he made an attempt at explaining her quirk. 
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Anyways, onto the actual chapter.
We open up in a staff meeting in a conference room at UA, with Tsukauchi presenting the results of the police investigations. He states that the one called Shigaraki has a quirk that allows him to disintegrate anything he touches. They (the police) have been through the list of men in their twenties and thirties in the quirk registry with no luck - and nothing turned up on the ‘warp gate’ user Kurogiri either. With neither registered, both using aliases, and no quirk records, they’re pretty much confirmed to be members of the underworld.
God sorry, I’m just distracted with the sheer size difference between Toshinori and Nedzu here.
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What the fuck. Why did you put the largest person in the room next to the smallest?
Whatever. Snipe surmises that they know next to nothing, but they need to learn fast, or the leader of the villains, Shigaraki, will heal up and be back again. Toshinori is thoughtful as he mulls over the use of ‘leader’, which Nedzu catches quickly and inquires into. Probably still heavily banking on Toshinori’s instincts here since he was technically right about his bad feeling about the USJ just two days before.
I mean, how it has to sting Nedzu that all his state of the art systems meant to keep out intruders and alert UA to situations on campus failed at the critical moment, while Toshinori’s instincts on something being wrong had been absolutely on point and, if Nedzu had let him go, might have solved the situation that much sooner.
(I mean, there’s arguments for what could have happened if All Might did arrive early, so. Shrugs.)
And so we get into the segment I like to fondly consider a prime example of the fact that yes, Toshinori does in fact have a 6/6 intelligence score for a reason. 
He brings up how nothing about the situation feels normal. It was an especially daring attack - and not just in the meticulous planning! Shigaraki had started going on about some ridiculous ideology… and though he didn’t say anything about his own quirk, he couldn’t keep himself from bragging about the nomu’s quirk. And when things didn’t go his way? He threw a tantrum. Toshinori then admits with grit teeth and clenched fist that the business about quirks was meant to provoke him, and that it did hurt.
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Nedzu says that even so, it’s foolish for villains to reveal quirks in a battle against heroes and so waste the element of surprise. 
Toshinori surmises his previous observations about Shigaraki - spouting a plausible yet deluded ideology, bragging about the toy he brought along, simple-mindedly assuming all would go his way. If they thought about how the attack was carried out, it seems clear that Shigaraki couldn’t hide his childish nature, the sense that he does what he wants, and then flat-out calls him a man-child.
Vlad King sums up Toshinori’s words as Shigaraki being a kid with too much power. Midnight adds on how Shigaraki might never have received general quirk counseling in elementary school; Vlad wonders whether that even matters. 
Tsukauchi steps back into the conversation to give the rest of the arrest results - a total of 72 villains were apprehended at the USJ. He states that all of them were just back-alley thugs, but the question is why so many of them would agree to follow this ‘man-child.’ He points out that modern society is saturated with heroes, so small-time villains like them, who always get kicked around, might have been drawn in by that sort of pure, unaffected evil. 
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Toshinori having a flashback here, though his expression… I wonder if he’s having doubts already. And honestly, that flashback bit has me wonder just how common ‘uncontrollable’ quirks really are… and what COUNTS as ‘uncontrollable’ in their society. 
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To avoid a longer derail, Tsukauchi finishes up by saying that thanks to the heroes, the police can focus on their investigation. They’ll expand their search and devote efforts to apprehending the perpetrators. 
Nedzu finishes out the scene by musing over the use of ‘man-child,’ stating that in one way, Shigaraki is a lot like their students. He has potential to grow, if only he had a proper mentor to follow. It’s difficult to think about these things.
And so we shift scenes back over to 1a. I doubt this sports festival talk is happening at the same time as the staff meeting, if only because Aizawa should have been at said staff meeting. Or maybe he wasn’t supposed to be there at all and the homerooms were meant to handle themselves that morning? Wait, hold on-
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That clock reads 8:25. This is happening during the homeroom period, which means that the other classes are having independant homeroom. Which also means it’s no surprise that Aizawa isn’t at that meeting, because he’s busy hobbling to his class to announce the sports festival. He probably had to be caught up on the meeting stuff later. 
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Anyways. The class is surprised over the announcement of the sports festival, someone calling it ‘totally ordinary’ while another (I think Mineta) questions whether Aizawa’s sure about this, since they just had that villain attack. Aizawa states that it’s necessary to demonstrate that UA’s crisis management protocols are sound - or that’s the thinking, anyways. There will be five times the police presence of previous years. Oh, and also the sports festival is the greatest opportunity the class will get. It’s not something that can be cancelled over a few villains. 
Mineta (again?) asks if he’s sure about that, muttering about how it’s ‘just a stupid sports festival.’ Izuku seems completely horrified at the idea that Mineta might have never seen UA’s sports festival, which Mineta hastens to correct - he has, that’s not what he meant. 
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I’m sorry just. That face. I can’t with this kid. Jdsjlgkd.
Also, we finally get to the page that had me double-take when I got to it because, well.
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So yeah, apparently the BNHA timeline didn’t have certain current events happened that would force the cancellation of the Olympics. (I mean, obviously Hori had no way of knowing the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo would be cancelled, but it’s still like a huge sign of how long this series has been running that this is here.)
Moving on, basically the above surmises for readers that the sports festival is as big an event to them as the Olympics are to us. So basically, super hype. Momo notes that all the nation’s top heroes will be watching and scouting. Kaminari adds on how the heroes will be looking to hire the hero students as sidekicks after they graduate. Jirou makes a cutting retort how a lot of those sidekicks never manage to go solo, stuck as sidekicks forever, before telling Kaminari that’ll be him. 
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Shot through the heart.
(Also a total aside I just realized: current manga events likely mean there will be no sports festival for 2a. I mean, I would say the events happening there are large enough in scope that UA just doesn’t have the inclination or interest in broadcasting vital information the villains could use. And like, no scouting, no internships, no purpose for it.
And I mean, even if they did, would any of the kids even be able to focus on doing their best? God knows how stressed and nervous they all must be with how society is basically collapsing outside the school.)
Aizawa tells the class that they’ll gain valuable experience and popularity if they’re picked up by a big-name hero. However, their time is limited. They need to show the pros what they’re made of to make futures for themselves. This happens once a year, so they have three shots. If they want to be heroes, this is an event they can’t miss.
The whole class seems to be taking this seriously, but Izuku…
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Well, he doesn’t seem as enthused as expected.
Anyways, I’ll cut it there and leave the rest for next time, since there’s a time break in here anyways. It’s not quite halfway, but eh.
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phantoms-lair · 3 years
Text
The Phantom Detective Redux Chapter 3
“Vultures, that’s definitely Vlad’s work.” Danny glared at the ceiling. He wished the little girl who also spoke English had told him that over the phone. He could have been flying around trying to find them instead of wasting time getting here. 
In all of the mess of last night with him accidently turning Conan into a halfa (and wasn’t THAT unsettling? Was that a new power he could just do? Could Vlad?), he’d never gotten a clear answer as to why Vlad was after Conan.
Like, yeah the kid was scary smart, but Danny hadn’t realized it until he’d spoken to him and as far as he’d known Vlad hadn’t. And his initial guess that it was because he was the detective's son (in an attempt to blackmail said detective) was dashed by Conan admitting he was under a ‘witness protection program’. He doubted Vlad wouldn’t have done the research to show that.
He needed to find some way to keep him safe, but most of the methods he knew for keeping malevolent ghosts out weren’t exactly safe for Halfa use. Which Conan was now for unknown reasons.
He could think about that later. Right now he needed to track the vultures, save his fellow Halfa and-
His train of thought was interrupted by the door slamming open and the girl he had saved yesterday from Skulker storming in with Conan in her arms. She did not look happy.
This was borne out as she began yelling at them in Japanese, only for the small girl to say something involving his name.
“I don’t speak Japanese, but I am very fluent in being thrown under the bus.” Danny said with a mild glare as the angry girl turned on him.
~
The short walk to the Professor’s (it hadn’t been very far) had given Ran more than enough time to build up a heady steam of indignation. As much as she wanted to shake Conan-Shinichi and demand answers, she couldn’t do that right now. He wasn’t waking up, which scared her and fed her anger even more.
Shinichi had been lying to her. And Agasa had been helping him. And if one couldn’t give her answers, the other would.
She barely stopped to kick off her shoes as she marched in the door. The Professor was there with Ai-chan and someone she didn’t know. In any other circumstance, she’d be more discrete, but she was done.
“Hakase, why did I just see Shinichi turn into Conan?  Why did he look so strange? What else have you been keeping from me?” 
Everyone in the room looked at her in shock. Surprisingly, it was Ai-chan who spoke first. “Danny did something weird to him. We don’t understand what.” ‘Danny’ glared at her and said something in English. That was all the impetus Ran needed to turn on him. “What did you do to Shinichi?”
He responded in English again. Ran wasn’t doing badly in her lessons, but he spoke too fast and she was too flustered to translate.
Cona-Shinichi held protectively in her arms, she lashed out with her right leg. The boy ducked back, still shouting in English. Ran shifted her weight and struck again. 
The kick should have smacked him in the head, if not for the fact that his head detached from his shoulders, floating half a foot above. There were twin thuds as Ran misstepped her landing and Haibara fell to the floor in a dead faint. Agasa didn’t look much better himself.
Danny reached up, grabbed his head, and pulled it back onto his shoulders. Conan was still out cold and the only other English speaker had fainted. Great.
He looked to the Professor in a silent plea for help while the kicky girl just looked at him in terror. The Professor looked at him with a bit of fear in his eyes, but he turned to the girl and began to speak. Danny only hoped they were friendly words.
~
"Ran-kun, I know was Danny-kun did was scary," And wasn't that underestimation. As much impossible as he had seen in the past day, that took things one step too far. "But he has been trying to help fix whatever it is he did."
"H-He's a monster!" Ran stammered, clutching Shinichi tighter to her.
Agasa winced. Not just for Danny's sake, but for Shinichi's as well. At least he hadn't been awake to hear it. "Danny-kun's not normal, it's true. But that doesn't make him evil."
"What is he?"
"A yūrei hanyou. At least that's as close a translation as Shinichi-kun and I got." Not much use in hiding that little tidbit when she'd seen him transform.
"You mean yōkai hanyou. A yūrei hanyou doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't and that's driven Shinichi-kun up the wall." Once quite literally. He'd paced to the end of the room and had gotten halfway up a wall before realizing what was happening. Gravity had temporarily reasserted itself, only for him to catch himself mid-fall, levitating a few inches above the floor before falling the rest of the way. But it didn't seem like a good idea to mention it at the moment. "That's the best translation we have though. Danny-kun doesn't speak Japanese."
Ran turned her attention to the harmless looking boy she's just seen decapitate himself. He was a monster and he'd done something to Shinichi, but apparently was trying to help? She needed answers so badly, but didn't think her English comprehension was good enough to understand them. She thought for a moment and cradling Shinichi in one arm she pulled out her phone. She typed a few moments then held up the screen for him to see. On one side was Japanese, on the other the words 'What did you do to him' 
He looked at the screen then pulled his own phone out of his pocket and began typing before showing her 'I think he absorbed some of my ectoprism. I don't know how. It's never happened before.' 
Ectoprism? Okay she didn't know that word. And somehow Shinichi absorbed it? 'What is ectoprism?' 
Danny assumed she meant ectoplasm. 'Basically the essence of ghosts. The accident pushed a lot into my DNA.' 
Ran felt a shiver down her spine at the idea of 'Ghost Essense' being shoved into someone's genetics. 'What kind of accident' She regretted it a moment later when he saw her question and just looked sad and uncomfortable. 
He was claiming to be part ghost, was she asking about his death? Was that a taboo subject? Somehow the question 'Are you dead?' didn't seem any better. So she switched her question. 'How did you make Shinichi a child?' 
He stared at her phone, but this time just looked confused. He fumbled with his phone a bit. 'What is a shinichi?'
She gave him a look and pointed at the child she was holding. He typed back and showed her 'Conan is a shinichi? I don't know why he was older. It was weird. Maybe it's because he's an adult for his age?
That gave Ran pause. Danny's answers had all been about ghostly things, none of it about Shinichi deaging. And the fact that he didn't seem to know his real name was even a name... "Hakase?" Ran asked in a dangerously sweet voice. "Is there a reason Danny-san, who I was just told was responsible for this, doesn't know Shinichi's real name, and in fact seems to think Conan-kun somehow aged up into Shinichi?" 
"Ah well, that is to say, the part Danny-kun's responsible for, that only happened last night." Agasa definitely looked nervous as he helped Ai onto her bed. 
Her eyes narrowed. "Okay, then why don't you tell me the rest of the story."
~
Well apparently whatever he'd said had been enough to turn her attention to the Professor. She was still mad, but not at him, so good? He had no idea what was going on, though. 
He wished he had someone with him that could help him explain and spoke Japanese and English and... Danny smacked himself in the face then hit a contact number on his phone. "Jazz, are you free? I need some help?" 
"Kisaki-san is talking to Mom so sure. Is this about Vlad?" 
"Kinda, but not really." Danny sighed. "So Vlad's been targeting this kid I thought was the detective's son-" 
"The one you thought could see right through you?" 
"...Yes, and you will understand once you meet him, but that's not the problem. The problem is I...kinda turned him into a halfa last night." 
There was silence on the other end, then "*What? Danny what the actual fu-wHAT DID YOU DO????”
"I just touched him Jazz. And it was like my transformation ring spread like fire over him." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "And now someone I think is his older sister is here, and I'm using google translate to try and explain, and there's something else going on she's mad at this professor guy over and...Jazz I need help." He heard her sigh over the phone. 
"Send me your address, I'll be right there."
Danny hung up and texted her the number. He looked over to the girl and Professor, they were talking about something, something that seemed serious. Also that word shinichi kept popping up. It had something to do with Conan, and he really wished he could find a translation.
~
The more Agasa talked, the more Ran wanted to scream. She felt hurt, used. She looked at the child who wasn't still wrapped in her arms. She wanted to rage at him, but he still wouldn't wake up and that kept an undercurrent of worry beneath all her anger. 
"Was this all just a game to him? A joke I was too stupid to figure out?" 
"Ran-kun no he..." Agasa looked at the still unconscious Shinichi. "You've never seen the back and forth. It's torture. He used to scream..." Agasa shut his eyes. In a way he hated that Shinichi had become so used to the pain he didn't anymore. “There was a very real chance each transformation would kill him. As it is, he has permanent heart damage, barring this whole ghost thing that none of us understand." 
"If Shinichi-kun were truly selfish, he could have started over. Left everything behind and began a new life. That would have been the smartest thing he could have done. But he clung to the one thing that made his old life worth keeping. He clung to you, because you were the most important thing he has. And he'd rather face death then leave you behind. He never took a cure without the intent to see you."
But Agasa was wrong. She had heard the screams. In the diplomat’s house, and after the case where Shinichi was being impersonated. She’s always convinced herself they were nothing, since nothing appeared to be wrong afterwards, but that sound had shaken her.
And Shinichi was still Shinichi after that last incident, which meant after being in that pain he’d immediately gone through it again
 “How are you sure? About the heart damage?” Ran asked quietly.
Agasa was quiet for a moment. “Ai-kun had a bad cold and started to feel pain in her stomach. The doctor wanted to do an ultrasound to check her organs, but she was scared, so Conan volunteered.” He didn’t mention that this had been carefully orchestrated. Not the illness or the kidney infection, but when Ai realized she might get an ultrasound she got the idea to give them a chance to check Shinichi’s internal organs in a way she normally couldn’t.
If the technician hadn’t been focused on the frightened little girl and looking at the screen when she held the scanner over Shinichi’s chest…
“I saw the scarring myself, on the ultrasound screen.” Agasa was very solemn. “He’s been cut off from the temporary cures since, but with so much damage already done-”
“Dai-job-boo-dee-sooka?”
They turned and saw Danny, looking at his screen. He was frowning as though he knew the pronunciation of whatever he was trying to say was off. Finally just turned his phone around so they could see what he was trying to say. Daijōbu desu ka Are you okay?
No, she was very much not okay. She fumbled for a moment with her own phone, now even less willing to put him down. ‘Conan’s heart is hurt’
Danny frowned. The kid was a bit young for romantic heartache so - oh. Oh no.
His face must have given something away, because her eyes narrowed. ‘What’
‘I had a bad idea’ he typed back. He didn’t want to say more, but the look she gave him demanded it. ‘Ectoplasm should not affect a normal person, but if he was probably very close to death’
The response hit Ran in the gut harder than any of the blows she’d taken during her matches. Whatever Danny had done to Shinichi had happened because Shinichi was dying. And he was dying because he refused to give her up.
A sudden knocking at the door startled them all. Danny brightened and ran for the door. 
Ran and Agasa shared a confused look.
Danny came back with a young woman with bright red hair. "Hello, you must be Conan's older sister." The girl said in clear, but accented Japanese. "My name's Jazz, Danny's my little brother, he called me to help." 
"Your brother?" Ran asked, even as she inwardly shrunk at the reminder of Danny still being under the misconception she had been until not to long ago. "Are you...like him?" 
"One hundred percent normal human, if that's what you're asking." Jazz reassured. "But I've been helping my brother adapt for the past years, so I'm very familiar with what's going on." Of course the early days were her weak spot, as she hadn't known till about two months later, and hadn't been let in on everything till the stupid test incident. 
"Do you know why he won't wake up?" Ran asked in a small voice. 
Jazz asked Danny something in English, then nodded and turned her attention back to Ran. "Basically his system didn't have the ectoplasm reserves for what he tried to pull off to escape the creature that kidnapped him-" 
The what that did what now? How many loops was she being left out of?
 "-and his body strained itself trying to maintain. He'll sleep until his ectoplasm levels are back at a safe amount. The first time Danny tried pulling a stunt like that, he was out for four hours." 
"His ectoplasm levels? I don't understand. Danny-san said that he'd absorbed some ghost-essence from him but..." 
Jazz pinched her nose. "Right. Google translate. Okay, so normally ectoplasm, the 'Ghost-Essence', has no effect on humans whatsoever. But there are rare cases that involve a lot of ectoplasm and a fair amount of electricity that can alter a human body to the point where their mitochondria start creating it instead of the usual oxygen based chemical energy. This causes the person to exhibit certain ghost-like traits."
"Yūrei hanyou." Ran whispered. 
"In a nutshell." Jazz agreed, making note of the term. She'd take it over halfa, if for no other reason that Vlad must have approved of the term for it to be bandied about so much. 
And now Ran understood what Danny had done. No wonder he'd had trouble explaining it, the concept shouldn't exist. This wasn't some one and done magical side effect of absorbing some ectoplasm from Danny, something that shouldn't have even happened if he hadn't been dying by inches. 
Co-Shinichi was in the process of becoming a yūrei hanyou. That's why he'd looked so strange as Shinichi. Unbidden, every scary story about people becoming monsters flooded her mind. No. No she could not focus on that because obviously it wasn't true. Danny still had a close connection to his human family. His big sister had stood by him, she'd have to too. 
(Though she had no idea how to define her relationship to him at the moment)
 "I can answer any questions you have, but we might want to wait until he wakes up, I'm sure he has a bunch too." Jazz continued on, unaware of all the thoughts running through Ran's head. 
"He speaks English, wouldn't Danny have-"
Jazz let out a frustrated puff of air. "Oh I have no doubt brother dearest tried explaining. But Danny's not," she glanced at her brother, "he's not the most adept at explaining things even when they're not deeply personal and he's not panicking all over the place, which it seems is what he's been doing. Not that he doesn't have reason. This nice family vacation has turned into a cluster." She sighed deeply. "But one thing I really need to impress is how important this is to keep a secret." 
Ran felt something dark curdle in her stomach. That sounded enough like what Agasa-hakase had been saying to bring the bitter feeling back. "Why?" 
Jazz clenched her hand worriedly. "Are you familiar with a law in America called the Anti-Ecto Act? It basically states that 'Ectoplasmic Entities', despite being sentient and sapient, are not living people and don't the same - or any- inalienable rights. And they don't differentiate between yūrei hanyou and true ghosts."
"If Danny was discovered, he'd be taken to a government facility. The Agents were boasting about all the painful experiments they were going to perform on him. Thankfully Danny convinced them they were wrong about him." She certainly wasn't going to go into the magic artifact with mind wiping capacity. 
“But for a short time we had proof of how people would react to a yūrei hanyou's existence. Those that knew him stood by him, but..to anyone else, he was just a monster, a threat. And I don't know if Japan has an equivalent to the Anti-Ecto Act, but I do know that you place a greater emphasis on conformity than America does. And yūrei hanyou definitely break that mold." 
Ran wanted to argue that Shinichi had never conformed to anything, not since preschool when he'd accused the teacher of trying to do something terrible to her. But she knew the difference between excelling and nonconforming, and the truth was Shinichi excelled, physically and mentally. 
This was very different. If word got out Conan was Shinichi, these mysterious people in Black Clothes would kill him. If word got out he was a yūrei hanyou, his life would be effectively over. It felt like balancing on the edge of a knife. Shinichi standing on tiptoe, trying to avoid falling into ruin. "How did your parents take it?" 
Jazz's expression darkened. "Our parents' work was instrumental in helping draft the Anti-Ecto Act."
"What? How could they?" 
"They don't know. Danny always insisted if they did, they'd change. They'd love him anyways. But it's been two years and he hasn't told them. I don't think he's ever going to. In some ways he feels safer with actual malevolent spirits that definitely mean him harm, because he knows they can't hurt him the same way Mom and Dad can." Emotionally or physically. "It's not healthy growing up and hearing your parents talking about how much they'd enjoy ripping apart beings like you 'molecule by molecule'."
Ran shuddered. Hearing it that way, it sounded like the ghosts weren't the scary ones in this scenario. And if Jazz-san was right about Danny not being able to explain things well, Shinichi might have no idea of that added complication. "So what now?" 
"The first month to month and a half are going to be the roughest part. His body doesn't know what to do with its ectoplasm, and will have trouble regulating its use. This results in ghost powers that randomly go off, especially in time of high emotions. After that he'll be able to control it more, no more passing out, for example, since his powers will simply fail rather than push him past his limits. Or accidental power usage. Once he hits the two month mark, he'll be fine, it'll just be a bit awkward until then."
Two months. She could keep it together for two months. “Is there any way to wake him up?” She asked. It helped being told this was normal, but not as much as him waking up would.
“We always let Danny sleep it off, although…” Jazz trailed off as she thought for a moment. “Would you be willing to let Danny hold him?”
“Why?” Ran was loath to let Shinichi go, and moreso to Danny, who was the  reason Shinichi was turning into a yūrei hanyou in the fist place. 
“His body needs ectoplasm right now, and barring letting it generate naturally in his cells, Danny’s the only other source we have.” Jazz explained calmly. 
It made sense and she hated it. She held Conan a little closer and almost screamed as Danny suddenly changed in a burst of white light. The last thing she wanted to do was hand Conan over but…
But she’d seen those green eyes and white hair before. On Shinichi. Danny and Shinichi were the same, being afraid of one would be being afraid of the other, and she couldn’t bring herself to be afraid of Shinichi like that.
She reluctantly handed him over. Danny cradled him and his arms began to glow green.
Before she could change her mind, Shinichi’s eyes blinked open and he looked around blankly. 
~
He felt...not warm, but it felt warm. Like in the laying in a sunbeam way, or being cozy in a blanket on a cold morning. But it wasn’t a temperature thing. It was weird.
He opened his eyes and saw Danny in his ghostly state. “Why are you holding me?” he asked dryly.
“More I’m recharging you.” Danny answered back in the same tone. He raised a glowing hand. “You used up all of your ectoplasm and knocked yourself out. Now that you’re back with us, hopefully your sister can calm down a bit. Also what’s a shinichi, she keeps using that word.”
His sister? Wait, he couldn’t mean… “Ran?”
“Who ran?” Danny asked, but Conan ignored him and looked around.
“Shinichi,” she said in a tone that meant the jig was well and truly up.
“Seriously, what does that mean?” Danny grumbled.
Conan gulped and flickered for a moment.
“Nope, gonna need you to stop that.” Danny chided him. “I know you can’t really help it at this point, but you’re still low on power.”
Conan was only half listening to him, half to the one person in the roof he didn’t know. “Invisibility and Intangibility tend to trigger as a fear response, and if he’s like Danny, he’s going to be on the verge of both of those until he’s more settled.” The young woman then turned to him. “Hello Conan, my name is Fenton Jazz. I’m Danny’s older sister and I’m here to hopefully explain things a little better.”
~
"Now keep in mind, the science of this isn't my main area of expertise, but between listening to my parents ramble my whole life, and helping Danny for the last two years-” Jazz began.  She’d gone into full lecture mode. Ran and Agasa were sitting on the couch with Haibara between them, and Conan between Ran and a once more human Danny.
“- I've picked up a few things. Now mind you some of this will be theoretical, but I'll let you know when those things come up and - Danny are you falling asleep?" The last part was said in English.
"I don't speak Japanese Jazz, I'm not going to get anything from your lecture because I can't understand a word of it. Yesterday sucked and Vlad could be doing something at any moment, plus I was just used as a human battery. Lemme rest."
She rolled her eyes. "Ignoring my brother, let's go back to what makes a ghost." 
"Death." Said Haibara bluntly. 
"Yes, but also no. While the death of a living thing is certainly the most common way ghosts are formed, not all deaths created ghosts, nor are all ghosts the result of something dying. The real answer is ectoplasm.” 
“A living being is made up of two parts, a body and soul. Bodies are well documented, souls less so. They're not physical and made up of what I'm going to call, for lack of a better term, spiritual energy. When a living being dies usually the soul passes over or dissipates - we've got nothing to help figure that out so we're not dwelling on it. But very rarely it doesn't. Instead the spiritual energy in the soul is converted to ectoplasm and the being becomes a ghost." 
"Unlike spiritual energy, Ectoplasm is..." Jazz faltered for a word. "It's more in your face. Where the soul can't be seen, ectoplasm can't help but express itself. It can be solid or ephemeral, and can mimic any state of matter. It's potential can be almost limitless, however the potential in each individual ghost is limited."
"All ghosts have a core, which is a bit to a ghost what a soul is to a living being. Though it's a part of them, it can't be seen or extracted." Her parents had tried, which she didn’t like dwelling on. "But is ineffably a part of them. The core also functions a bit like a nucleus, as it defines what a ghost’s focus is, what powers they have, and their inherent nature. As a ghost's appearance tends to be a reflection of their self image, that can change over time. But the only way to alter a ghost’s core is by forcing them to experience something literally soul shattering. This...it's something that will never end well and that's all I'll say on the matter." She'd seen it happen to Danny in another timeline and she'd never let anyone go through that if she could help it. 
"There are two more kinds of ghosts, but they're not what you want me to be here for, so I'm just going to touch on them briefly. Throw-offs are ghosts that are created by the will of other ghosts, formed of their own ectoplasm but as an independent being. Penelope Spectra, the ghost of an abusive psychologist, created a throw-off named Bertrand to act as her personal assistant. Likewise the self-styled 'Captain Youngblood', the ghost of someone who died as a small child created a parrot to act as both playmate and parental figure. Both of them can shapeshift to better suit their creator's needs, though without a larger sample size I can't say if that's a coincidence or a common trait of Throw-offs."
"The final kind are what I call Spontaneous. The limbo ghosts tend to be stuck in unless they find a way to the world of the living seems to be made primarily of ectoplasm and sometimes unlife just happens. This can range from barely sentient blobs, such as ectopusses, to beings of comparable human intelligence, like Skulker, whom you met yesterday. But for now let's move on to the rarest ectoplasmic beings, which is what you actually need to learn about. Halfas, or as you called them yūrei hanyou."
Jazz motioned to the small boy sitting between Ran and the now snoozing Danny. "Conan-kun here is the fourth to ever exist, as far as we can tell. We only have minor observational data from the first, the third was a special case, so mostly what I'm going on is Danny, since he and his friends have been cataloging data practically since day one." 
Agasa nodded, pleased they had thought to do so. 
"So yūrei hanyou are usually created by a living person being ground zero for a rift between worlds opening due to ectoplasm being charged with an incredibly powerful electrical current. And by which I mean ‘could kill several people in seconds’ powerful. Thankfully the ectoplasm changes it enough that the person exposed enters what I call the 'Schrödinger State'." 
"Alive and dead at the same time." Conan said darkly. 
Jazz nodded. "The person's spiritual energy is fully converted to ectoplasm without the soul separating from their body. This gives you access to a ghost form. In addition, as I explained to Ran-san earlier, the mitochondria in each cell are producing ectoplasm instead of it’s normal adenosine triphosphate, which allows you to manifest ghost powers in your human form. But your body hasn’t learned how to regulate it yet. That's why you're unstable right now. Not helping that is because of the energized ectoplasm that creates them, yūrei hanyou are by default some of the most powerful ghosts in existence."
"Really?" Ran asked with some trepidation. She didn't like hearing about ghosts, though the more lecture-like nature of Jazz as opposed to Sonoko's scary stories made it more palpable. 
"As I said, despite what living in Amity Park might have you believe, becoming a ghost is really really rare. Much less than 1% of people who die become ghosts and those who do are mostly weak enough that if they make it to the land of the living they can't be seen, heard, or affect anything. Most ghosts need to find a way to siphon energy from elsewhere to boost themselves enough to do anything. Some feed off human emotions, others find a nexus point saturated in ectoplasmic energy. But the process can take years to decades depending on the abundance of the source. And that level of power, the type that takes decades to achieve. That's your starting point."
"Power absorbed through the environment or emotions is reliable, but temporary. They would constantly need to recharge to maintain a steady output." Hence Spectra's need to feed the misery that fed her. Without a flowing source her power consumption far outstripped what her core was capable of. "That's not to say ghosts can't become more powerful in their own right, just that it's not a quick process." 
"Here's where we're entering some of the more theoretical stuff, namely how Ghosts can permanently raise their power. One theory is self awareness. Ghosts who are the result of dead humans tend to be composed of memories and emotions from when they were alive. And that in better understanding those, they deepen their own abilities. I won't say it's untrue, but as many ghosts wouldn't have the patience for it, it would be at least highly uncommon." 
"Some, shall we say, rather biased individuals believe ghosts can strengthen themselves through human suffering. They are wrong. While ghosts can feed off human emotions, including negative ones, as we established before it's a temporary fix. Then we get to the theory I have the most faith in. Obsession fulfillment." 
"What fulfillment?" Conan asked, startled.
Jazz winced. She was used to this part being common knowledge. "I mentioned ghosts tend to be made of emotions and memories. Usually there's something tying it all together into a drive. This drive, usually referred to as a fixation or obsession, is central to the ghost's being and usually forms their identity to a greater degree." 
"It's...easier for yūrei hanyou. It's there, but more of a compulsion than an all consuming drive. Something they can choose to ignore, but it won't necessarily be easy to do." 
"So I'm going to develop one of these?" Conan's voice was small. 
Ran snorted. "Going to? You've been obsessed with mysteries and mystery solving since at least kindergarten. I really doubt there's going to be a noticeable difference."
"Going back to before,” Jazz continued, though it would be cute if Conan-kun’s thing was solving mysteries to be like his father, “it's my personal theory that the best way for ghosts to grow their core is by successfully doing whatever their fixation is focused on. It also explains the growth difference between Vlad and Danny." 
Conan had been looking like he was halfway between sulking and being relieved, but he shot straight up at the mention of their culprit. "How so?" 
"Vlad's fixation is about having things. Once he had his powers stable, it was easy for him to just take whatever he wanted through force or trickery. He's only been active twenty some years, but his power levels had risen to a degree it takes most ghosts centuries to obtain. Talking with other ghosts I've been able to chart a pretty steady growth - until two years ago." 
Conan raised an eyebrow at Jazz's self satisfied smile. "What happened two years ago?" 
"Vlad found three things he couldn't obtain through money or power. Ownership of the Green Bay Packers, since they can't be owned by an individual by their charter. The love of his college sweetheart, since Mom has standards. And for Danny to love him like a father and hate our actual Dad. Don't think I have to explain why that's not happening. But because of those three things, he wasn't getting what he wanted. He tried to get them, but it didn't strengthen him since he never actually succeeded."��
"Danny's fixation is-" Jazz rolled her eyes fondly, "- being a hero. He's driven to help people who need help, even putting his personal safety at risk. It's something he sadly gets to indulge in often, sometimes multiple times a day. As a result Danny's growth has eclipsed Vlad to the point where he's almost caught up to Vlad's core power level in a mere two years." 
It was good to know there was a strong chance Danny could supersede Vlad in not too much time, at least on one playing field, but that brought up a new worry. "So if my thing is solving mysteries, and I solve them fairly frequently, this is going to get worse?"
"Worse is a bad way to think about it." Jazz said gently. "I won't say parts of it aren't going to suck, especially for the next month or so, but it's not all bad. However illogical they may be, powers are useful as long as you have control, and that's something you can have with a bit of work. Can you honestly tell me there's no time being invisible would have been useful as a detective? Or walking through walls would have made an escape easier?" 
He didn't like how easily past examples filled his head. Heck, if he's been invisible when spying on Vodka that night, he wouldn't be three feet high now. "I still don't like it." 
"Neither did Danny at first. In fact he downright hated it. But now it's so much a part of him, I don't think he'd know what to do if he got back to normal." Honestly probably get himself badly hurt trying to protect other people. "Do you want me to keep going, or is that enough for one day? I know it's a lot." 
"If there's nothing vital, I think I'm good." He had more than enough to dwell on. 
"I don't know if Danny's mentioned this, but be aware around things meant to ward against spirits, they can be uncomfortable." Jazz advised. "Other than that you should be good." 
Ran sighed and glanced at her watch. "We should probably go home. Dad will be getting worried."
"You go. I think I should stay here until I'm a bit more stable." Conan winced, "Imagine trying to explain any of this to him. And it's not like I can hide it." As if to prove his point, he started to sink into the cushions. 
"Danny wake up!" Jazz said sharply. Danny shot awake and rolled forward, ready for a fight. Jazz simply pointed to where Conan was stuck in the couch. He rolled his eyes and turned his arms intangible to pull him out. "Would it be okay if my brother stays too? He can help Conan and act as a defense if Vlad tries to silence him again." 
"Certainly. There's not a lot of extra bed space but there's somewhere Shinichi and he can go if needed." Agasa said
“Who’s Shinichi?” Jazz asked.
“There’s that word again,” Danny muttered.
There were awkward looks abound, but no one answered either sibling. Jazz sighed. “Unless you have anymore questions, I’ll see you tomorrow Danny.”
Danny blinked. “Tomorrow? Aren’t I going to the hotel with you?”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “I just said you should stay with Conan to help him manage his powers and in case Vlad makes another attempt.”
That made sense but…”I’m guessing, like most of what you’ve been saying, you said it in Japanese. The language you know I don’t speak.” He grinned, knowing he had her.
Jazz stared at him a moment, then pinched her nose. “Point to you. I’m still heading out.”
“Wait,” Danny stopped her. “In your lecture did you mention Halfa’s regeneration ability?”
“No, and you really should start using yūrei hanyou, like they do.” Jazz advised.
Danny rolled his eyes. “And why would I want to change the only word I’ve had for myself for the past two years.”
“Do you really think all those ghosts would use a word to describe Vlad that he didn’t personally approve of?”
Okay, any distance between himself and Vald was good. “Okay, but seriously. Please tell her about yurry hanyo healing.”
“Yūrei hanyou,” Jazz corrected his pronunciation. “And they’ve all had to deal with a lot of new information at once. Non essential things-”
“It’s essential. Trust me.”
Danny looked so serious Jazz sighed and gave in. “Before I go, brother dearest wants me to go into a little more detail on one of the perks of being a yūrei hanyou, namely their healing capacity. Though not instantaneous, they do heal much faster than baseline humans and can recover completely from injuries humans never could without so much as a scar. I have a theory about how it’s related to their core, but that’s far from proven.”
Injuries...like heart scarring. Ran gave Danny a grateful look. “Thank you.” Both for telling her and...she may not have liked the idea of Shinichi becoming a weird ghost hybrid, but from what she’d been told earlier, it very well have saved his life.
Agasa and Ai shared a look of their own. They’d need confirmation but if that were true it would be a huge relief to both of them. Conan glanced around and read the reactions of everyone except for the honestly confused Jazz. “You told them.” He accused Agasa.
“Yes he did.” Ran confirmed.  “And I’m glad he did. And- we can talk about this later.” It was obvious Danny and Jazz didn’t know the truth about Shinichi and it wasn’t her place to tell them. “But rest assured, we will.”
Conan gulped and his form flickered again, before vanishing completely from sight.
“It’s a good sign your ectoplasm is regenerating.” Jazz said. “That being said, it’s obvious there’s something you’re not telling us, so if you’re trying to keep other people from figuring it out, you need to be better about the fact that you’re hiding a secret. I won’t ask what it is, we understand better than most how life or death a secret can be.  But at least one of your secrets isn’t just your own.” With that, she walked out.
Danny sighed heavily. “I really need to learn Japanese.”
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Don’t Go Running Off Into Danger, Even If I Do pt 2
So, I have no clue what a publishing schedule is. So here, have more of this dumb fic at 11 pm. FUCK SLEEP! SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!
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Chapter 2
Danny and Jazz managed to finish just in time to put everything away before their parents got home. He’d actually managed to have a ghost free night. But the peace wasn’t going to last. And this wasn’t about ghosts. He got slammed into his locker.  “Hey look, it’s Fenturd. What’s with the dumb picture of Phantom? You’ll never be on his level,” Dash said and laughter broke out. Danny groaned. At least they didn’t know he was trans. He’d be beaten twice as much if they knew. The locker door closed and locked.  “Seriously Dash? I have to get to class!” He yelled through the metal.  “Whatever Fentina. No one cares! Oh hey, it’s fresh meat!” Dash went away from Danny’s locker. Danny had found out a way to make it so he could open his locker from the inside without it being outerwardly compromised. He jumped out. It was those kids from last night.  “Leave them alone Dash. They haven’t even been here for a day yet. The rules are that newbies get a probation period,” Danny crossed his arms.  “I don’t know Fentoenail. Would you like to take their beating?” Dash mocked him. Danny sighed. He’d have to do this.  “Any day,” 
Danny regretted everything. Dash had hit him twice as hard as normal and his locker trick wasn’t working. Everything hurt. He was going to miss Lancer’s class. At least his ghost sense wasn’t going off or something. Lancer wouldn’t miss him. Suddenly, his locker opened and he tumbled out. He yelped. “Are you okay?” The girl twin said.  “No worse than what I’m used to,” Danny brushed himself off.  “You didn’t have to do that,” The boy twin told Danny. “Yeah, I kinda did. The probation period is sacred. Dash knows that,” “Probation period?” The boy said. “A rule we made up last year. If Dash really wants to break it, I take the beating instead. Fenton gets to take the beating so the new kids don’t have to,”  “That’s not fair. You should report him,” “Nah, he threw like four perfect throws last night and is exempt from punishment,”  “Football?” The boy gave Danny a knowing look.  “Danielle- I mean Daniel Fenton to the main office,” The loud speaker said. “Oh come on! At least it was probably just a misread,” Danny was fuming. The beating plus being deadnamed was getting on his nerves. “We have to head there too,” The girl said. Danny shrugged and let them follow him.
Lancer called them all in at once. “Sup Lancer. Can I help you?” Danny leaned against the wall. “Mr Fenton. You and I both know that you need to show me more respect. W-what happened to you?” Lancer looked up from his papers. “Just a certain football star. Nothing I can’t handle. He broke the probation period,” “That’s a rule between students. I have no need to enforce it,” Lancer sighed. “I have no clue why you of all people were chosen for this, but you are too be Mr and Ms Pines guide around the school,” “Jazz not good enough for you? Had to pick the ‘slacker’ Fenton?” “Daniel, mind your tone. Jazz is our top student,”  “We all know I’m destined to fail in life. Can I get their timetables?” “Yes of course. Listen Danny, both you and I know you’re capable of better grades. I don’t understand why you don’t try,” Danny wasn’t in the mood for Lancer’s pep talks.  “I’ve got more important things to worry about,” Danny grabbed the papers and stalked off with the Pines Twins on his heels.  “Why didn’t he do anything about Dash?” the boy asked. “He has no reason to. Not like I’m about to ask,” Danny handed them their timetables. He’d seen that the girl was named Mabel and the boy Mason. “We’ll start with your classes Mason,”  “I prefer Dipper,” “I’m not calling you by a dumb nickname. Let’s go,” Danny growled.
Just as he was about to lead Mason to his first class, a royal pain in his ass showed up. “Daniel! I require your assistance, little badger,” “It’s bound to be another plan to get in my mom’s pants. Go away,”  “Now, don’t be like that. I’m the mayor after all. You should be honored,” “Plasmius, shut your goddamn mouth. I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck,” Danny said so that only Vlad could hear.  “Well, something’s got you in a tizzy. I’ll ask later. I should tell you though, it’s about Danielle,” “What did you do to Dani?” Fury. Wait, he had to get the kids to class.  “Nothing. It wasn’t me. You should ask your ghost hunter girlfriend,” Vlad grinned. Fucking Valerie.  “Come on kids. You’ve got to get to class,” Danny ignored Plasmius. Valerie was going to die. 
At lunch, he purposefully turned into Phantom and waited for Valerie on top of the school. She took no time at all. “What. Did. You. Do. To. Dani,” He glared at her.  “I didn’t do anything to her! You’re going down ghost!” “Am I really?” Danny was pissed. She wasn’t getting any mercy today. He teleported behind her.  “What the... HOW?” “Where is she?!” He growled. “What do you care? She’s always off on her own,”  “Does it look like I care Valerie?!”  “How did you know?!” “I know more than you seem to think. Tell me where Dani is. NOW!” He froze her feet. She looked terrified.  “What’s wrong with you!? Why do you care so much about her? Ghosts don’t have feelings,” Danny lost it at that point. The laughter was dark. Hollow. Horrible. Val’s terror was visible.  “Don’t have feelings? DON’T HAVE FEELINGS? FUCK YOU! I’M SO TIRED OF ALL THIS!” “Phantom, calm down,” Val was terrified. Danny wasn’t done. The rings were threatening to come down and expose him to her.  “So you admit this is real? Would you like to know how it feels to die Val? How it feels to live on the line between life and death? Wait, I can’t do that! You don’t have a deactivated portal in your basement that I can make you turn on while your inside. I don’t have a stupid jumpsuit with your dad’s face on it so I can take off the that sticker. You don’t have parents that threaten to rip you apart molecule by molecule for just exsisting! You don’t have to see a future where you become evil because you cheated on one test and your family all died! Can you even begin to comprehend what I go through? Ever been cloned? And forced to do something incredibly painful so that one clone can get fixed and watch another get lied too? And that’s just the brunt of it Valerie. Keep telling me how I don’t feel. How I’m nothing!” Danny screamed at ice engulfed their feet. Val’s eyes went wide.  “D-Danny?” She said quietly. “Congratulations! You aren’t as niave as the rest of Amity Park! How does it feel?” He’d snapped. “Calm down! I’ll tell you where Dani is!” She shrieked. That hollow laugh came back. But instead of an angry rant afterwards, he just sunk to his knees and screamed. It wasn’t a wail. It was a scream of pain. Of being done with the world.  “I can’t do this anymore,” He sobbed and the rings went down. All that was left now was a beaten, broken Danny Fenton.  “You should change back. I’ll take you to Dani,” Danny nodded and followed her.  “Sorry I broke down. I’m just sick of people telling me that I can’t feel. That all ghosts can’t feel. You don’t even bother talking to us, ya know?” “Ghosts lie,” “And so do people! I’ve talked to the ghosts. Listened to them. Heard their stories. I protect people, but I protect them too!” “How do you know those aren’t just acts?” “Cause they make sense. I’d have the same response if it was me. If my parents burned down the place I was in because I got caught being gay,” “I’m confused,” “Ember. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone. But you need to know that they all have reasons for being the way they are. Skulker’s family was hunted, so now he hunts to prove his strength,” “Maybe we should talk to you more,”  “Maybe you should. No one asks to die,” “But your parents say that ghosts don’t remember their lives. They’re the leading experts,”  “That’s like putting a ten year old in a room of babies. They’re the expert by default in that situation, but an adult would be the expert the moment they walked in,” “Why don’t we know about that,” “Dying is traumatizing. Even half dying is traumatizing. It’s taboo to mention it unless you’re told. No one explains it until they’re ready. And talking about a life before that is almost wrong,” “How did you learn?” “Skulker told me during the Christmas Truce. Ember told me one day when she just wanted to be left alone, but I did too. I guess things end up working out in weird ways,” “The Christmas Truce?” “On Christmas Eve and Christmas, ghosts have a truce. No one is allowed to fight anyone that day. The Ghost Writer broke the truce and Walker got to haul him off in just means,” “We really know nothing about ghosts, do we?” “No, you don’t. They even have a party. I got invited last year. Skulker let me make the star! It took me weeks to get it right,” Danny smiled at the memory. He’d made a scale model of a blue giant that went through it’s life stages.  “So there’s a whole society?” “A government. Systems. Main rules. Taboos. Just cause we’re ghosts, doesn’t mean we don’t have a system,” “I’m sorry,” “What?” Danny nearly froze. “I’m sorry that I made so many assumptions. I never should’ve chased you or any ghost like that,” “Keep them out of Amity Park and send them back to the Zone. Most ghosts forget that living is dangerous, so they just rampage. I keep trying to talk sense into them, but they’re pretty stubborn,”  “What about the dog?” “Dog? You mean Cujo? I was trying to stop him from trashing Axiom. He was trying to get a toy. I’m sorry that recked your life Val,” “My life? Wrecked? When compared to you, my life is a dream. It’s not like I died,” “I guess you’ve got a point,”
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Thanks for reading. I just like fics where Val finds out, and this one seemed like an okay place to stick it. Dani is fine. I’ll fill you in on that next chapter, but I should get some sleep.
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five-rivers · 3 years
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DP/HP twin fic chapter 1
This would be the first chapter of that DP/HP twin fic...  I need a name for it before I post it elsewhere...  I can’t think of a name... help...  @ladylynse I blame you for this entirely.  It’s 3k and they haven’t even met yet.  What am I doing.
.
Here’s the thing.  Danny had encountered wizards before.  And witches.  Multiple times.  
He was not a fan.  
Burning, or other forms of murder, hadn’t ever crossed his mind as a solution to them, even when Freakshow decided to derail his life yet again.  Still. There were only so many times you could stumble upon members of a certain group zapping people with bargain-bin neuralyzers and leaving hours’ worth of uncertain memories in their wake before you got sort of fed up.  
Memory erasure was great in fiction.  Not so much in real life.  
Danny got it.  He’d erased a couple of memories himself.  Well, a lot of memories, depending on how one took the Reality Gauntlet incident.  But as far as motivations went, ‘trying not to be dissected by the government’ was a lot different from ‘we can’t be bothered to be discreet about our sporting events and we think it’s funny that our venue managed to attract ghost hunters when these magicless fools have never seen a real ghost in their lives so we’re going to mess with them.’  
Yeah.  Danny was still annoyed about that.  Also, about their reactions to him when he crossed an invisible line that was apparently supposed to repulse ‘no-majs.’  
That was before getting into Desiree, one of the few witches to become a proper ghost.  According to her, witches and wizards had a different system, and it was rare for magic users to enter the Infinite Realms.  Dora’s dragon amulet had also been enchanted prior to her death, although that could have been a ghost’s work, and Dora had never shared where it had come from.  
Anyway, the point was that Danny knew about magic as an entity separate from ghost powers and at least a small subset of the living beings that relied upon it.  
So, when the woman who dressed like she was living a century ago and smelled of magic walked up to his house, he’d braced himself for a fight.  He wasn’t going to let his parents be ‘obliviated’ again.  They were oblivious enough as it was!
But.  No. She’d come in, no wand in sight (although Danny still wasn’t entirely sure those were necessary) and sat down on the couch, hands primly folded, ignoring all of the… rather questionable features of the Fenton living room.  
To add to the weirdness, his parents had been expecting her.  They knew her by name.  They wanted Danny to be in the room to meet her.  
“Edna,” Jack said, with a strained smile.  “How have you been?”
“Well enough,” said Edna, her eyes flicking to where Danny stood in the kitchen door, watching. “And this must be young Deneb Alased, correct?”
“Yeah,” said Danny, frowning.  There weren’t a whole lot of people who knew his legal name, let alone his middle name.  So, who was this?  “I am.” He looked at his parents, willing them to clear up whatever this was.  
Both of their faces were sour, but they were trying to hide it.  Maddie was doing better than Jack.  
“This is Edna,” said Maddie.  “Why don’t you come and sit down, Danny?”  She patted the back of Jack’s favorite recliner.
Danny noticed how Edna’s mouth twitched down at his nickname. His fingers curled, ghost energy buzzing under his skin just barely kept from his eyes.  He didn’t like this.  
“It’s alright,” said Edna, smiling kindly.  “This must be very confusing for you.  I would be concerned myself, under these circumstances. What I’m about to tell you may be difficult to process, however.”
“We’d like to start it off, actually,” said Maddie. “When you called this morning—” She broke off, making a face.  “We were told this wouldn’t happen.”
“Yes, well,” said Edna.  She shrugged.  “Purebloods. What can you do?  Evidently—Well.  You should have your say, first.”
Danny gave Edna another suspicious glance.  Maybe all wizards weren’t bad.  Maybe Freakshow was an outlier and sports fans just sucked in general.
Yeah, honestly, that tracked.  (Cough, Vlad, cough, Dash, cough.)
He sat down.  “Okay,” he said.  “Way to be ominous.  What’s going on?”
“Well, Danno,” said Jack.  He laughed nervously.
“You’re adopted,” said Maddie, bluntly.
Danny blinked.  “Wait, what?” he said.  “Adopted?  But I look just like you guys!”
Jack’s nervous chuckles continued.  “We are related to your birth parents…  not closely, but…  Yes.”
“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, feeling several layers of personal identity float away from him.  He’d always blamed his weirdness on genetics and family history.  Especially the ghost stuff.  Then again, his name, which definitely did not match with his parents’ or sister’s, probably should have tipped him off.  “You’re serious?”
“I’m afraid so, Danny,” said Jack, kneeling by the chair and patting his knee.  “But don’t worry!  You’ll always be a Fenton, no matter what!”
Danny nodded, swallowing back emotion.  “And Jazz?  Is she…?”
“She’s adopted, too.  At about the same time as you, in fact,” said Maddie.  “So am I and Alicia.  It’s a long story.”
“Okay,” said Danny, determined to get that story at some point.  “Why is she here, then?”
“I was involved in your adoption,” she explained, “and certain members of your birth family want to get back in contact with you.”  
Ancients, that was sure a thing to hit a guy with right after the ‘you’re adopted’ revelation.  
Hold up.  He was forgetting something.  This was a witch.  How did that play into this?  Because it had to.  Witches and wizards, as far as Danny could tell, tended to isolate themselves from the rest of humanity.  
He decided he did not like the probable trajectory of this conversation.  
“Why?” he asked, because he wasn’t going to say he knew about magic until and unless someone else cracked first.  
“Yes,” said Maddie.  “Why?  Why now? We were under the impression that they would never contact us.”
“Evidently,” said Edna, “Deneb’s birth mother was not properly informed of the decision to put him up for adoption.”
Okay.  Yeah. That was a lead-in to his biological parents being magical because he couldn’t think of a single modern western country where that would fly.  
“So, what?  I was kidnapped at birth or something?” asked Danny.
“Not exactly,” said Edna, wincing.  “It was your birth father who filed the paperwork.”
“And she’s only now wondering where Danny is?” asked Maddie, a little shrilly.  Her stress from before was now spilling over into anger so sharp Danny could taste it like a knife on his tongue.  “Did she somehow manage to forget giving birth?”
“No,” said Edna.  “Which brings us to the other matter.  One of the other matters.  The one who first sent the request for your adoption information was actually your twin brother.”
A third monumental revelation.  Wonderful.  What next?
“We, of course, contacted his parents, and discovered the irregularity regarding your birth mother’s consent.  Hence my presence here today.”  She opened her bag and removed a small glass tube, about twice the length of Danny’s palm and the same diameter as a quarter.   “There was also the issue regarding how young you were when you were put up for adoption.  Generally, our agency deals with the placement of children aged from five to eleven.”  She held the tube out to Danny.  “Could you hold this, please?”
“Do you really need to do this?” asked Jack.  
“Due to all the irregularities involved, yes,” said Edna. “Our organization charter unfortunately requires it.  If the mother was not consulted, as is required, the reasoning is that other required things are not as certain.”
“Hold up,” said Danny, hands tightening around the ends of the armrests.  “These people—” Who were most probably wizards, and wasn’t that a thing to get his head around, “—they’re not trying to get custody of me again, are they? After giving me away?”
“No,” said Maddie.  “We won’t let that happen.”
“We’re not going to give him back to people who were going to abandon him just because—!”  Dad broke off.  “Uh. Because.”
Smooth.  
“You know,” said Danny, deciding to cut off… whatever this was. “Even if this ‘test’ is, like…” He trailed off.  “Whatever result you want it to be.  I don’t know.  I’m still going to find out whatever it is you’re dancing around anyway.  Because I’m not going to forget this conversation.”
Silence.  
The witch twitched slightly towards where Danny knew her wand was hidden.  
Screw it.  “And I’m not going to let you erase my memory.  You people do get how messed up that is, right?”
Danny was treated to the sound and sight of three jaws dropping open.  
“How do you-?” started Maddie.  
“You remember when we went to that camp because people thought it was haunted?  But you didn’t find anything?  Well, they managed to get both of you that time, but not me.  And I know you’re one of them, so I’m betting that whatever this is, it has to do with magic.”  He paused. “It was some weird magic sporting event, apparently.”
“The-?  You went to the Quidditch World Cup?” asked Edna.
“What?  No!” protested Maddie.  “That was in Britain, wasn’t it?  We were just in the next state.”  She scowled. “I’m going to write a letter of complaint.  Even if we’re living without magic, we’re not no-majs.  We’re squibs.  They had no right to obliviate us.”
“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.  You’ve lost me.  Squibs?”
No one seemed willing to answer the question.  
“If you’d just take this,” said Edna, holding out the tube a little desperately.  “It will be much easier to explain all at once.”
Danny looked up at his parents.  Jack looked at Maddie.  Maddie drummed her fingers on the back of his chair.  
“It’ll be fine,” said Maddie, “probably.”
“Fine,” said Danny.  He took the tube.  Almost at once, it started glowing green.  
“Oh,” said Edna, frowning and leaning closer.  “It usually isn’t—”
The tube exploded, embedding several small glass shards in Danny’s hands.  
“Ow,” said Danny.  
“Oh,” said Edna again, evidently not registering the small splinter of glass in her cheek.  “Well. Whoever your birth father hired to test your magic as an infant obviously got it wrong.  Congratulations, Mr. Fenton.  You’re a wizard.”
“My hand is bleeding.”
“Yes,” agreed Edna.  “It isn’t supposed to explode, you see.”
.
Once Danny got cleaned up, which involved a lot of glaring at Edna from Maddie and Jack, they adjourned to the kitchen, which was free of random glass shards.  
“The adoption organization I work for,” said Edna, “places squibs—people born to magical parents who do not have magic themselves—with families of squibs.  Assuming the child’s birth parents do want to give up their child over something like not having magic.”  Her nose wrinkled.  “The common wisdom is that it is easier for such children to grow up in an environment that is not explicitly magical.  In any case, it is my personal belief that anyone who would give up a child over something like that isn’t going to be the best of parents.”
“Alright,” said Danny, “so… all of us are squibs.”
“Except you, apparently,” said Edna.  “It’s hard to tell whether or not someone as young as you were when you were given up will be magical or not.  Which is why we usually only deal with older children.  I don’t suppose you’ve noticed anything odd happening around yourself?  Or unusual abilities?”
Danny stared at her flatly for several long moments.  His entire life could be classified as ‘odd,’ and most of it he wasn’t about to share with Edna.  Or his parents, as much as he loved them.
But, on the other hand, he now had a great excuse for at least some of his weirdness.  His parents wouldn’t think ghost if they could think wizard first.
“Like, define ‘odd,’” said Danny.  Despite his earlier encounters with wizards, he had no idea what was normal for them.  Other than memory wiping.  Which he could not do and wouldn’t have demonstrated anyway.  
Okay.  If was actually a wizard, and Edna’s doohickey wasn’t just reacting to his ghostliness, he probably could learn how to do the memory thing, but he didn’t know now, so the distinction was meaningless.  
(Maybe being a wizard or a squib or whatever was why he wasn’t just.  Dead.)
(Yeah, he didn’t want to think about that.)
“Just…  Being in one place, and then a different place.  Surviving something you shouldn’t have been able to unscathed.  Things moving by themselves or changing color or size. Temperature changes.  Something you want very badly happening, even if it is impossible or extremely unlikely.”
“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.”
“To which one?” asked Jack, concerned.  “I haven’t noticed anything like that except what the ghosts do.”
“Um,” said Danny.  “This?”  He put his hand down on the table, intending to leave an icy handprint.  That should be acceptable, right?  If temperature changes were normal…
His nerves got the best of him.  He knew he was nervous showing even one of his powers around his parents.  He overcompensated.  
The table was covered with frost.  
“Oops?” said Danny.  
All the blood had left Edna’s face.  Jack and Maddie didn’t look much better.  
“Dear lord,” said Edna.  “You can do that at will?”
“Yes,” said Danny, holding his hand close to his chest. “More or less.”
“Danny,” said Jack, “why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought you’d think it was a ghost thing.  You kind of shoot first and ask questions later about ghost things.”
“Oh my god,” said Edna.  “Never mind that.  You can do wandless magic and you’re fourteen?”
“Fifteen,” said Danny, “but, yeah.  I guess.”
Evidently, this wasn’t normal.  
Also, his comment about shooting first hurt his parents’ feelings.  Go figure. Not like they weren’t keeping a massive secret.  
.
“So,” said Danny, once the other discussions had been shelved for the time being, “I have a brother?  I think a brother was, at some point, mentioned.”
“Yes,” said Edna.  “A twin brother.  He wants to meet you.  Along with your biological mother.”
“And if I don’t want to?” asked Danny.  “If I don’t want to have anything to do with them?”
“I don’t even know,” said Edna.  “I can’t believe you slipped under the national detection spell. There’s going to be so much paperwork involved in this.  International paperwork.”
“Huh?”
“You were born in Britain,” said Edna, as if this were a minor detail.  
Yeah.  Like his sense of self needed any further pummeling.  
“But it isn’t our fault everything is so messed up,” said Danny.  He maybe had some curiosity about his twin brother, but if there was any risk he’d be taken away…
“I understand,” said Edna, “but nothing like this has come up before, as far as we know.”  She sighed. “If it makes you feel better, I will use any influence I have in the matter to recommend that you retain custody of Deneb.  In the meantime…  Do you want to, uh, open communications with any members of your biological family?”
“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Can I think about it?”
.
Relations in the Malfoy household had been strained ever since Draco’s investigation of his family tree (unrelated to the return of the Dark Lord and how blood purity was now much, much more important) had revealed that his twin brother had not, in fact, died at birth.  
And by strained, Draco meant that his parents had taken to living on opposite sides of the manor, interacting only when there were visitors.  Visitors such as his father’s Death Eater friends, members of society, and various government officials.  All of whom were more alike, and had greater overlap, than even Draco had initially suspected.  
This left Draco walking on eggshells between the two of them and wishing for Hogwarts to start again.  Anything he did to please one had to be entirely out of sight of the other, or else they began to fight again.  Truthfully, Draco was more on his mother’s side, all things considered, but his father was the one with the friends, and Draco couldn’t stay home under his mother’s wings for all his life.  Like his dragon namesake, he had to fly.  
Which he would most certainly do.  Soon.  No, he wasn’t hiding from his parents in his room.  That would be ridiculous.  They knew where his room was.  They could find him if they wanted to, and neither of them was anywhere near him.  He knew.  He’d checked.
This made the inarticulate shriek of rage he overheard from his mother all the more concerning.  
It was enough to make him emerge – cautiously! – from his self-imposed exile.  
He was curious.  And stupid.  It got him into enough trouble at school, why not at home?
Also, he really needed to know.  For his own safety.  Tiptoeing around whatever disaster just happened would be impossible if he didn’t know what it was.  
Instead, he tiptoed after his mother.  
His mother, who was angry enough that sparks were coming off the end of her tightly gripped wand.  Green sparks.  
Draco had never actually seen the killing curse in action, but his mother’s face screamed murder all on its own, no magic required, despite the fact that Draco was only catching glimpses of it as she strode towards his father’s half of the house.  
This was going to be bad.  Terrible.  Possibly the kind of event that saw one of his parents in Azkaban and the other in little, tiny pieces all around the smoking room.  
Lucius, for his part, looked paralyzed where he stood, and Draco briefly entertained the notion that Narcissa had managed to cast petrificus totalis on him without moving her wand or speaking the words.
Narcissa planted herself firmly in front of Lucius and glared up at him, seething, her breath making sucking noises as it passed through her teeth.  
She punched Lucius in the face.  The man toppled, clutching his nose.  Narcissa kicked him.
It was a good thing that the Malfoys had no neighbors, because what Narcissa screamed next likely could have been heard for at least a mile.
“He wasn’t even a squib, you lying bastard!”
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