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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

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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.”

#Danny phantom #Clockwork #clockwork dp #Phic Phight #phic phight 21 #sam manson #tucker foley #op #Bee's writing

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arashikitten · 4 years

Text

Imagine an au where Danny doesn’t know that Valerie is the Red Huntress when he starts dating her. He has no clue that his gf spends half her time hunting him, and Valerie has no idea that her boyfriend spends half his time as Phantom. Both of them desperately want to tell the other, want to be able to trust each other with that information, but Valerie is afraid that Danny will get hurt by a malevolent ghost wanting to use him against her (she has no clue that Danny fights ghosts on the regular), and Danny is terrified that she will hate him for being the ghost that effectively ruined her life (she still rants about Phantom and how much she blames him for getting her father fired. Danny feels very guilty about the entire thing.)

Then, the Dan thing happens. Danny discovers that Valerie is the Red Huntress from her future self, and he is DEVASTATED. He had to witness his family and friends almost die, discovered that his human half is killed by a violent mixture of his ghost half and Plasmius in the future, discovered that he turns evil and kills EVERYONE in that same future, and on top of all that, his girlfriend is the Red Huntress. His girlfriend, who he adores and loves and who snorts when she laughs, who can judo flip Dash without a second thought (and has, on one occasion), who is smart and funny and sarcastic and listens to him when he starts ranting about the stars and space with genuine interest...

Is the same person who screams insults at him from her hoverboard as he flies over the town. The same person who hates Phantom with more burning passion than even his parents, who fires at him with the intent to destroy. And for some reason, that hurts him even more than when his parents fire at him, hurts even more than when he hears his parents talking about dissecting him “molecule by molecule” as he eats his dinner.

Meanwhile, Valerie begins to notice how stressed and nervous Danny is getting. Yeah, he’s a nervous person, but never on the level he is now. He’s always fidgeting, always looking for exits to a room or building, always alert and vigilant. He’s always on the verge of a panic attack, and whenever her... side job comes up in conversation, he flinches slightly and starts shaking. And whenever Valerie tries to help, tries to comfort him, he only gets worse, verging on a panic attack or hyperventilating. It starts to put a strain on their relationship, and neither of them know what to do.

Until one day, Danny breaks down and tells her. He’s been so nervous, so scared that once she knows the truth, that she’ll hate him for it, and the fear and suspense has been driving him insane, because what if she finds out? What if she tells everyone and they hate me for it? So Danny tells her, because all that he has is Sam, Tucker and Jazz (Vlad does not count and he never will), and that used to be all he needed, but ever since he found out about Dan and the CAT and how he killed so many people, too many in that timeline, (how he may as well have killed his own friends and family, it was his fault his fault-) he’s constantly been on the verge of a breakdown, and that tiny, almost nonexistent web of support just isn’t enough anymore.

So he tells her everything. He tells her about the portal, about how he turned it on, how the subsequent blast and shock killed him, but not completely. He tells her about him being a Halfa, about phantom. Tells her about his decision to become Phantom, to start fighting the ghosts that make their way into the human world to cause havoc, because no one else could or would do so without destroying them. Tells her about Pariah Dark, how the fight almost killed him.

He tells her about Dan, about that horrible, horrible future, and how terrifying it is, knowing that he could still turn into that horrible, twisted version of himself.

And at first, Valerie is PISSED. How could he, how could he lie to her like this, about something this massive? How could he lead her on, knowing full well that he was the reason that her father lost his job, that he was the reason the A-listers kicked her from their group. She’s about five seconds from pulling out her suit, or her ecto-gun, and firing at him...

When she pauses. Because right now, Danny doesn’t look like the cocky, confident, annoying half ghost that Valerie has come to despise. No, right now, Danny looks like a normal kid who has to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and then some, who has to deal with being hated by ghosts for being human and hated by humans for being a ghost, who has to deal with the knowledge that one wrong move could turn him into a monster capable of destroying the planet.

Has to live with the fear of his parents discovering who he is, what he is, and hating him for it.

And Valerie has done the same thing, except this was arguably worse, because how many times had Danny gone out of his way to save her at his own expense? How many times has Danny been hurt, badly hurt, by one of her own weapons?

And she sees Danny shaking, looking at her with wide, scared blue eyes, and they look so much like Phantoms, and Valerie realizes that behind all the death puns and bravado, Danny is a scared, traumatized highschool kid, who got dealt a heavy hand, and now has to deal with just about everyone he knows and cares about either fearing him or attempting to kill him.

So she leans down and hugs him, even as he starts crying, because it’s so much, too much, to know that Valerie doesn’t hate him, that she at least doesn’t completely hate him. And they’re both apologizing through their tears, Danny for what happened with her dad and Cujo and lying to her, and Valerie for the whole Red Huntress/trying to kill him as Phantom thing.

They stay like that for a long time.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #danny and valerie should’ve been endgame #gray ghost #valerie gray #danny phantom angst #mostly angst #but there’s also some fluff #i love this pairing #i will die with this ship #kinda like danny #ayyyyy #pls forgive me

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ladylynse · 4 years

Note

So, I've seen you reblogging some random My Hero Academia fanart lately, and I was wondering how much of it you know? Why? Because I'm curious if you have any idea about a possible crossover with Danny Phantom. (it's surprising how well DP can be crossover-ed with basically EVERYTHING and still make sense...)

I have seen the show. I...think?...I’m caught up on the show. I have not read a word of the manga.

For a crossover with DP, I like the idea of Danny falling into their world rather than the other way around; it’s just easier, even if you toss in a time travel/dimension kind of quirk thing gone wrong and rely on Clockwork to get them home again. Me, I’d do this one of two ways, depending on whether or not Danny ever has a chance of going home again. Or, perhaps more accurately, how slim that chance is, because he’d still have a chance.

Option 1: Danny’s stuck in their world. Forever. Or near enough. Because he was trapped in a thermos for years, longer than anyone would expect him to be alive, and his time doesn’t exist, it’s past, it’s gone, because it hasn’t just been a day, it hasn’t just been a month, not even a year, and every human he ever knew and loved is gone. He couldn’t even find his family if he tried. It’s been too long, the world’s changed, and there are these things called quirks now, and he just.... He holds onto the faint hope that Clockwork can get him back home, that Clockwork will agree to let him go back home, that this can just be a few extra days or weeks or whatever lived in his life but otherwise it’s fine and like he was never anywhere else, but the stable portals he knew are gone, he doesn’t know how to find and can’t create the natural ones, and ghosts like Wulf and Cujo wouldn’t even know he was back.

He can’t remember very well how he got into this mess. Maybe Vlad caught him and buried him on the other side of the world; maybe Vlad tossed him into the Ghost Zone, never really expecting Danny to get out. Everything is muddled, confused, coming back in pieces, and not like a moment frozen in time where he gets out and immediately remembers everything. It’s not like it normally is. But maybe it’s because he wasn’t released like he normally is, since he didn’t get out until the thermos degraded to the point that there was a hole he could slip through. Maybe it’s just because he was in there too long. He...he doesn’t know.

Option 2: AKA my old standby for DP crossovers to worlds that aren’t enough like his own, a door or portal in the Ghost Zone. Maybe Danny meant to go through, whether he was exploring or running from something with five sets of teeth that was faster than it had any right to be, or maybe it popped up in front of him and he was through before he could change course. He doesn’t have more hope of getting home in this scenario, exactly, but he’d be more hopeful, because this obviously isn’t the same world, it can’t be, so he can get back and get home and it’ll all be fine.

In both cases, you can ignore the language barrier--write it off as a ghostly ability Danny didn’t realize he had, though that logic fails a bit when Tucker understands Wulf the best, or maybe Danny hearing it for years while in the thermos and just sort of absorbing it--through osmosis, if you like. But if you acknowledge it. If you accept the fact that Danny suddenly finds himself in a world where he can’t speak the language, can’t read or understand or even be sure he recognizes the language--because what is that, Chinese, Japanese, Korean? He has no idea. It might not even be any of those if it’s been how many years since, what with evolution of language. He just knows he doesn’t know the alphabet at all--then you can easily force other characters to interact with him once he gets in trouble (as will happen; it’s Danny) and maybe bring in a convenient universal translator hero support prototype, initially designed to help heroes better communicate with victims who don’t speak the same tongue(s) with plans for further development outside of heroing if it’s successful. Such a device would also give Danny a convenient excuse for when he says something that receives blank stares, as he can pretend it glitched.

Now. Danny will be trying to get home. That might be his entire thing--that and potentially acceptance that he can’t go home, depending on how things pan out. If he came through a portal/doorway, then he might be keeping an ear to the ground to find out why if there’s some reason why he’s here, but if he was just stuck in a thermos, he’s going to assume he got out because of pure dumb luck/erosion and focus most of his energy on finding a way into the Ghost Zone, which may or may not come back to bite him later. Especially if he didn’t just get out by chance or is here for a reason and doesn’t know enough to understand what that reason is.

The obvious thing to consider is how quickly Danny realizes these guys only have one ‘quirk’, even if they can use it in multiple ways. If he gets any inkling at all from them that having more than one quirk is odd and potentially suspicious, you can bet he’d try to hide it. He’s used to that. He’s had to hide from so many people. He can hide from these people, too. Or at least try his best. Me and my penchant for misunderstandings would obviously choose to have him hide his multiple abilities and not just, y’know, tell or show them straight away.

I mean.

Say they saw Phantom before they ever saw Fenton. Flying. Phasing. Shooting ectoblasts. That’s not normal.

And if Danny saw something happen and jumped in to help without entirely understanding the situation? He might try to take down both heroes and bad guys because geez, those people almost got crushed when that building fell, and another bystander nearly got flambéed, and he knows he’s destructive when he’s trying to save people, but still. Giant Lady is a pretty good distraction if you need a distraction, and she could get away from the good guys fast enough, and that guy just walked through a brick wall, so there’s a good chance he’s overshadowed even if Danny’s too far away for his ghost sense to go off, and--

Point is, they (some) might mistakenly peg Phantom as a villain, at least until the next fight where they have time to talk. Danny, who very definitely Not Going Ghost until he figures out what the heck is going on, is found in the aftermath and assumed to be a victim--a tourist, probably, since they can’t understand him and he can’t understand them--and probably picks an ability to call a ‘quirk’ even if pretending to be quirkless would be smarter because he’s not convinced he might not do something almost on instinct, and then where would that get him?

Danny does not overhear the speculation that perhaps this Phantom is after him. He does not overhear the concern of the UA students who witnessed the fight. He does not know how many strings were pulled to get him released from the hospital--where he Very Obviously does Not want to be, but he can write off weird abnormalities as, say, part of his Ice Quirk powers; after all, sneaking away probably won’t do him any favours, even if he has to get out of there before they realize exactly how fast he’s healing--or how difficult it was to get him released into the protective custody of the good people at UA (or, more specifically, those who rallied for him to get the opportunity). Because he’s wary and spooked and confused but still ready to fight, and they can see that, and they want to help him. They’re not even sure how much training he’s had with his quirk, since even after extensive questioning and a subsequent exhaustive search, they can’t find any record of a hero named Frostbite.

They can’t even find a record of Daniel Fenton. Not someone with an Ice Quirk who matches his description, anyway.

Which makes some people wary, even when others are eagerly including him, because what if he’s a plant, a spy, otherwise not on their side even if he’s not working with any known villains, and--

Hogwash. Poppycock. Pick your old-fashioned word for it, but that’s pretty much how your thinking is going, someone else would say. Because the kid’s got a good heart, and anyone can see that. He wants to help people. He does, even when it hurts him. He’s got the heart of a hero.

With what they’ve seen of him, it’s enough to quiet the mutterings.

Until the day Danny forgets himself and displays another Quirk in a way that can’t be explained, especially in light of all the other incidents that were.

(related - Dani)

#danny phantom #bnha #my hero academia #danny fenton #ladylynse #musings #fic ideas #asks #azthedragon

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aedelia · 4 years

Text

Seven Lives (DannyMay2020- Favorite AU)

Warning, angst ahead. You have been warned. (Many thanks to @lexosaurus for putting up with my comma abuse and various grammatical mistakes)

Danny May 2020

Favorite AU

Seven Lives

There was a friendly ghost cat that liked to hang out a few streets over from Fentonworks. Danny saw her almost every day, whether he was trudging to school, or when he was patrolling. She would come out and wind around his legs, purring and meowing for his attention.

The residents of the street didn’t seem to mind her presence. She was very sweet, affectionate, and she helped keep the minor ghost pests down.

Danny didn’t think much of it when she didn’t come to greet him Wednesday morning, he didn’t see her every time he walked by. Sometimes she was busy napping in the sun, chasing shadows, or demanding affection from other people on the street. When he didn’t see her at all Thursday, he was concerned. By Friday morning, he was worried.

The walk home was uneventful and devoid of friendly tail or whisker. He kicked the door open with his foot, dumped his bag by the door, and headed down the basement stairs.

“Hey Mom, Dad, I’m gonna go hang out with Tucker and Sam,” he said while descending to the basement.

“Hey Sweetie!” his mother called back. “Since it’s the weekend that’ll be alright, just make sure you get something to eat before you go.”

As Danny hit the bottom step, his nose was assaulted by the electric-lime tang of ectoplasm. He took a hesitant step forward into the lab, not really wanting to see whatever experiment his parents had managed to cook up.

His mother smiled at him, ectoplasm splattered across her hood and hazmat suit. “How was school today, Danny?”

“Danno!” His father boomed, also covered in ectoplasm. “Do you have a lot of homework? Maybe you can come help us in the lab after you’re done hanging out with your friends!”

Danny’s eyes slid from his exuberant parents, to the lab table in between them. Dread filled him as they then followed the slow drip, drip of ectoplasm from the floor back up to the table surface. His muscles froze and his stomach dropped to his feet. An icy feeling crept up his throat. He felt the temperature drop around him and further chill the air of the lab. His heartbeat, normally very slow and steady, jumped in his chest like a panicked rabbit.

Danny couldn’t catch his breath. Every shallow inhale brought the sickening scent of lime fizz and chemicals into his lungs. His head pounded and a static tingling crawled from his shoulders to his fingertips. A roaring noise keened in his ears but over it all he could still clearly hear the slow dripping of ectoplasm rolling off the table and platting on the floor.

‘Oh no, oh no, no no no no...’ His hands trembled as they clenched into fists at his sides and he swayed slightly as he saw just where the friendly cat ghost had been.

He stumbled closer to the table.

His mother turned to him, the light reflecting off the red lens of her goggles at odds with her concerned tone. “Honey, are you feeling alright? You’re looking a little green.” She reached for his forehead with an ectoplasm stained glove.

He dodged out of her reach, barely avoiding the puddle of green at the base of the lab table.

He peered down at the table. “Ms. Chonkers?” he whispered faintly, just below the threshold of human hearing.

The partially dissected ghost lifted her head fractions of an inch and gave a pathetic wheezing, “Mew.” She then sagged back down to the table.

Danny’s eyes darted between his parents before settling back on the unfortunate ghost in front of him. Her core was exposed, the golf ball sized light quivering in the sterile air of the lab.

He swallowed down bile as he desperately tried to think of a way to get his parents away from the cat before they managed to hurt her any more.

“Danny?” his mother said.

Danny swallowed again. “Just wanted to check in.” He flicked his eyes to the cat and back, he had a ghost of a plan, but would need to hurry.

He quickly turned heel and fled back upstairs, trying to keep his revulsion and nausea down. As his foot hit the uppermost step, he heard his mother—no, Maddie say, “Careful Jack. Don’t disturb the core. We don’t want this one disintegrating before we’re done studying it. Just think of all the technological and scientific advancements we can make if we figure out how it works!”

He got to the kitchen and paced back and forth for a moment. He needed to get his parents out of the house immediately and without question. He stopped and yanked his phone out, nearly fumbling it in his haste, and called his sister.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hello? Danny?”

“Jazz. You need to call Mom and Dad and get them out of the house. Tell them you saw Skulker terrorizing some kids or something, but it has to be as fast as you can!”

“Okay, little brother. But please, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Jazz, they have Chonkers. Please hurry and get them out of the lab, it’s…really bad.”

Danny heard Jazz breathe in sharply.

“Alright, I’ll get them out. Do your best to save her!”

Danny resumed his pacing as he waited.

After the longest 20 seconds of Danny’s half-life, his parents came thundering up the stairs.

“We’re coming, Jazzy-pants!” his dad cried.

“No putrid ghost hunter will lay a hand on our daughter!” shouted his mother.

The second he heard the door slam, Danny raced back down to the lab. He jammed his thumb into the DNA scanner to open the portal before rushing back to the ghost.

“Ms. Chonkers!” He quickly unstrapped the ecto-resistant restraints. His hands hovered over the cat, trembling.

“Mew,” she whimpered, sides heaving in distress.

Danny gingerly unpinned the peeled strips of green flesh and gently pushed them back in place, protecting the fragile core. He carefully phased his arms through the table to gently lift her.

Once safe in his arms, she began a rasping, purr.

He turned to the swirling portal and hovered above the ground. He winced and tried to ignore the soft splats of ectoplasm dripping off of his arms to the lab floor.

She was melting in his arms.

Once through the portal and into the ambient energy of the Infinite Realms, Chonkers began to revive somewhat. Her tail twitched, and the dripping slowed.

Danny touched down on a piece of floating rock near the portal and tenderly laid her down. He rubbed around her ears and chin, being careful to avoid the incisions. The cat’s purrs rumbled slightly louder.

“Still not stable,” he muttered. Watching as steam rose off from the ectoplasm pooling around her body, he grasped at the loose soil covering their tiny island in frustration. He shuddered, gasping as he tried to keep the sobs in.

He couldn't fall to pieces right now, Chonkers already had that covered. He opened his eyes after a few seconds, faintly luminous tears falling and cleaning tiny dots on his gloves.

“What can stabilize a ghost that’s falling apart...melting?” he asked himself.

She was melting in his arms just like Dani. Wait. The Ecto-dejecto had saved Dani. Maybe it could save Chonkers as well. Clarity rushed over him now that he had a plan.

Danny gently stroked the side of Chonkers’ face. “I’ll be right back. It’ll be ok.”

He flew back through the portal and scanned the failed experiment shelf.

There it was. “Aha!” He snatched it and once again launched himself through the portal.

Once he was back at her side, he spritzed her with the ecto-dejecto.

‘Please work.’

Several agonizing seconds passed as Danny watched her sides heave, still sublimating and mixing into the ambient ectoplasm.

A ripple passed through her body. Then another, and another. The puddle under her receded as her body slowly reformed.

Danny let out a deep sigh as the minutes passed. The tight feeling in his chest finally easing as Chonkers took a few unsteady steps to him, butting her head against his leg where he knelt.

“That was way too close,” Danny said as he obeyed her demands for affection and petted her. His body sagged to the ground, unbelievably weary now that the crisis had passed.

Chonkers climbed onto his lap and purred.

“I know how cats usually feel about dogs, but maybe you could learn a few things from Cujo. If you could change size like him, this won’t happen again.” He hugged the cat in his arms, feeling the tension slowly bleed out of him. “It can’t happen again.”

Danny lifted the chunky cat up and held her at face level. “You have to stay in here for now, it won’t be safe in the human world for you for a while.”

She mewed at him inquisitively.

“I know you’re happy around people and doing cat things, but you have to stay here where it’s safe. At least until I can figure out how to keep this from happening again.”

The cat meowed again and butted her head against his chin.

“I sure hope you understand me. I know ghost animals are usually a lot more intelligent than their living counterparts,” Danny said, petting the cat.

Feeling slightly bad that he was about to trick her, Danny formed up a tiny glittering ball of ectoplasm in his hand and waved it in front of her whiskers. Once he was sure she had locked onto the temporary toy and had entered dumb baby mode, he threw it as hard as he could away from the portal.

With the cat distracted, Danny slipped back into the normal world. He sighed in relief—his parents were still out. Jazz must have set up a good distraction.

He slipped off a green stained glove and closed the portal. Hopefully, that would keep Chonkers out of trouble for a few days.

With one last glance around the gruesome lab, Danny fled to the bright sky and fresh air of the park. He flew past the common areas to a secluded picnic area that was overgrown and forgotten by casual visitors. He touched down at the table, slumping over and resting his face on his arms.

Now that he wasn’t just living in the moment, the full horror of what he had seen was starting to sink in. His parents had caught an innocent and friendly ghost, and instead of studying her intact, had proceeded to cut her open. And because when a ghost ends, they dissolve completely into base ectoplasm, she was aware and conscious the whole time.

Shudders wracked his body as he finally let himself sob, every breath bringing a sharp reminder from the persistent lime scent clinging to him. They knew what her core was when they saw it. His mother had warned his dad against disturbing it. They had done this before. How many ghosts had they ended on that table? How many had he failed to save?

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard the whistles and chirps of the pod of blob ghosts that lived in the park. It had been long enough that most of the ectoplasm staining his suit had steamed away, leaving it deceptively clean.

He felt feathery, gentle touches against his arms, shoulders, and head. A few persistent nudges later, and he lifted his head from his arms. He still had glowing tears running down to his chin, but he couldn’t help the weak smile that crossed his face when the blob ghosts cuddled all around him.

They nudged him to his feet and swarmed him, snuggling into his arms and resting on his head and shoulders. Danny held himself with one arm, the other holding a particularly insistent large blob ghost. The roiling nausea started to fade as the little ghosts cleaned away his tears and the rest of the stains on his outfit. He couldn’t help a giggle when one nibbled his ear, making him squirm away.

“I have to do something. I can’t let this happen again,” Danny told the little ghosts, his gaze focused in the direction of his house. He could see the top of the Ops Center above the tree line of the park. Even way out here, he couldn’t escape reminders of what his parents had done.

Determination filled him as the little ghosts continued to try to comfort him in their own way. “I can’t let any more innocent ghosts be harmed by them. It’s time I did something.”

173 notes · View notes

bitch-i-migth-be · 4 years

Text

Crash Course | Chapter 05: Priorities

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman,

Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Vlad Masters, Ember Mclain & Kitty, Danny Fenton & Cujo

Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton,Cujo, Ember Mclain, Kitty, Lunch Lady, Younblood, Skulker, Johnny 13, Random ghosties mentions *boo*, Vlad Fucking Masters Everyone

Words: 6′582

Tags: BAMF Danny, Ghost zone shenanigans, Sibling bonding, Shenanigans, Swearing, Family dinners, Heteronormativity?? The fuck is that, Danny in Cosplay, Ghost King Danny,

Summary: He swore his sister was trying to make him go into cardiac arrest - considering his halfa status that was quite the accomplishment-

But there was no other explanation to his sister’s stubbornness, and if he knew her at all there was just no talking her down from interning at goddam Arkham.

A/N:

Some of you *coming here for the fights, angst and The Drama™ that a DP & DC crossover inevitably involves*: “Hey-”

Me *Trying to write fluffy shit to liberate and soothe my deranged soul from this mortal prison*: “S'up?”

-.-.-.-

This is so long compared to the other chapters. Whhy is this so loooong. UGH- It’s almost double the length of the first four chapters together? I thought it was less? This would have been bigger if I hadn’t posted chapter 4 first? What is happening

THIS IS ON AO3, IF ANYONE WOULD PREFER TO READ THERE. LOVE COMmENTs so if u have anything to say IwillBeReallyHappyYesThankU

CHAPTERS: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

-.-.-.-

Phantom was currently drifting on the Ghost zone trying to hunt down his next unsuspecting victim among the ghosts.

‘Oh, how the turn tables.’ the halfa chuckled.

Jazz had kept her word and after pulling an all-nighter they had come up with some interesting options.

Now he just needed to pull them off.

The sound of growling at his back made him freeze on his tracks. He turned around to look at the source of the sound.

“Oh,” Well, this certainly had not been on the plans. To stumble upon such a mighty beast this early on. He smiled. “Hi, Cujo!”

The happy barking that followed the greeting was rather endearing, normally whenever he crossed paths with the pup he would spare some time to play with him and teach him some tricks. After some months of the pup following him around and of the halfa trying to deny to anyone who would listen, especially Val, that the dog was not really his, Danny finally gave up and got him a new collar.

The little guy was quite spoiled nowadays.

Sadly, right now he was on a timeline.

“Sorry, bud. No playtime today, I’m on a rather tight schedule.” Phantom cooed softly, reaching down to briefly scratch behind the pup’s ears.

Cujo sat on his hind legs, paws in the air and tail wagging, effectively cutting off his path.

Not like he couldn’t try to fly around, mind you, but with a dog that could go gigamax on your ass, it was better to just talk your way out.

Just when Danny was about to open his mouth the pup upgraded to excited wiggling on the non-existent floor of the zone.

The halfa sighed to himself. Fond smile growing without his explicit permission.

“Cujo-” he tried, just to be interrupted again. “And there goes the whining, Oh. My. God.”

The boy covered his face with his hands, not daring to look until the sounds stopped completely. After a moment, he finally took a peek from between his fingers.

Sad, puppy dog eyes were looking up at him, small little whine making a comeback.

Fucking shit.

He was going soft.

-.-.-.-

“Match head.”

The sound of the nickname momentarily dragged Ember’s full attention from the tuning of her guitar to the new arrival.

“Baby Pop.” She took notice of the green puppy posing as a hat on the white-haired boy’s head and snorted, eyes going back to the guitar. “Blessed the eyes. You going Cruella on us now or what?”

“Please,” The boy jested. “Like we need a remasterized skulker around here.”

“At least the woman did it for fashion.” She hummed. “You would make a horrid carpet, you are too fucking skinny.”

“Excuse you, bitch.” Phantom shot back, irritation clear on his voice. Ember rejoiced on it.

She faked a gasp,“ Are you saying you want Skulky to make you into a rug, baby pop? Scandalous!”

“T-that’s not-!” the halfa spluttered before Ember cut him off.

“What do you want, cupcake? It’s not like you to venture so far into the Zone willingly unless you are looking for blood.” She questioned, carefully putting her guitar back in the case.

The boy huffed.

“Whatever, Ashley,” he grumbled under his breath. “I think it’s time we revisited the terms of our agreement ” The boy sat by her side nonchalantly, not noticing — or outright ignoring — the sudden rise in temperature as the girl’s blue hair flared violently, a deep frown marring her face.

Cujo did notice. But the little doggo was more distracted with the movement of the pretty light-emitting hair, and the fluffiness of the hair on his current method of transportation to register the imminent danger to his fur.

Priorities.

“Revisit? You want to fucking revisit?” She growled. “I will tell you what you can fucking revisit-!”

The halfa just laughed at her reaction. Ember’s hair doubled in length. The laughter died off.

Her hand was getting dangerously close to her guitar.

Danny swallowed hard, deciding to just get on with it before Ember tried to use the instrument as a wanna-be war hammer again.

“It’s quite the contrary, my dear flaming hot,” he rushed to appease her “I want to expand on it,” he said, throwing in a sickeningly sweet smile for good measure.

He hoped it was enough to regain her attention in a more positive light. He didn’t want to explain to Jazz why his ghost form’s eyebrows were singed off. Again. He didn’t have time for more lectures. Thank you.

Luckily, If the hair-inferno reducing to a cheerfully blazing bonfire and the growing smirk taking over ember’s face was any indication he had succeeded. Cujo whined for the loss. Danny wanted to squeal for the win.

He did not. But it was a very close thing.

“Oh ho, now we are talking, baby pop.”

-.-.-.-

The window of opportunity to pull this off was very small. He had to take into account the amount of time that had passed since the last fight, the reason for the aforementioned fight, and how much of an emotional investment the objective really held for it to be a proper detonator.

This operation required surgical precision, which meant a lot of preparation. And research.

It was a good thing it happened so often.

“I will be direct with you, sister,” Phantom spilled, sprawling himself on the free seat on Kitty’s right side. “your bitch boyfriend doesn’t know the jackpot he hit with you and that just ain’t gonna fly.”

knowing where Kitty would end up after a fight with Johnny was not a problem. tracking down which bar she was going to be crashing for the aftermath was the real problem.

Danny hadn’t even known there were bars in this place.

In the last months of his treaty with one Ember Mclain, he had learned plenty of- interesting facts about the Zone that he would prefer to forget. Not that he really had an option, Jazz had taught him early on that information on the enemy — and sometimes on friends —was a valuable asset to ensure victory.

So he would play dumb about knowing these things. But he would not forget about them.

Couldn’t afford to forget them.

If the Ghost Writer pulled another surprise quiz on him and the answers were less than perfect the man would riot.

The halfa stretched out a hand to take a menu and leaned his elbows against the bar-top. Cujo chose that moment to leave his position on the teen’s head to sit next to his forearm so he could peer at the menu too.

He skipped the drinks section and went straight to the food. There was no way he was getting any alcohol.

Don’t get him wrong. They would serve him whatever the fuck he wanted if he asked for it on the zone, but the teen had tasted it before and hated it with a passion. Fuck the peer pressure. Never again. Good for when you are sad? Bitch, just get ice cream. Maybe he should have asked Ember for Kitty’s favorite flavor and save himself the hassle. Oh well.

Too late now.

Danny chose his order but decided to risk a look at the drinks for non-alcoholic options while he waited for Cujo to paw at whatever he wanted.

Kitty, who had been spluttering and getting progressively redder since he made his entrance, was about to smack him upside the head because even if it was true the brat shouldn’t just go saying it like it was any of his goddamn business. They were in the middle of a crowded bar, these people didn’t need any more confirmation for her relationship problems. Couldn’t she keep some dignity?

Before her hand could connect though, a pair of arms surrounded her, bringing her firmly into a backward hug against a warm chest.

A very familiar warm chest.

Startled, she looked up to stare into fiery green eyes.

“Cool it kitten,” Ember purred, clad in a leather jacket that was, most likely, scammed off some unfortunate soul. Still. She looked damn good. Kitty got so tongue-tied she couldn’t manage to even begin to stutter a response, let alone a protest. Danny took advantage of Ember’s intervention to finally place his first order. “Babycakes is right.” Ember continued, effectively cutting off all the air from kitty’s sails once and for all, because really, Ember was her best friend and if there was anyone who knew exactly how many times Johnny and Kitty had fought it was the blue-haired girl.

Kitty let out a defeated sigh and wiggled a little on the embrace to settle into it properly. Might as well get the best out of this-

“Oh, they have frappes!” Phantom trilled in awe. Kitty twitched.

If only Phantom would go away. Ugh. She couldn’t deal with males right now.

“Can’t you leave that thing alone?” Hissed Ember, who had seen the teen open the conversation with her kitty kat just to completely ignore her right after in favor of the menu. The bitch boy needed to focus, they were supposed to be on a mission here.

“Hey! You were the one calling me skinny earlier!” Remarked the teen, only to get a raised eyebrow back from the rockstar.

“As if a single frappe is going to fix that. Give me that!” She sneered at him and snatched the laminated paper from his hands. Phantom tried to snatch it back and failed. So he resorted to pouting and tried to give her the sad puppy dog eyes.

It wasn’t going to work with the matchstick, he knew, but it was good practice.

To pull this shit with Ember you had to be either Kitty, Youngblood, or an honest-to-god puppy. He was not risking ticking off Kitty more than he already had. Youngblood was not here — for obvious reasons—. Cujo was here and didn’t hate him, but sadly the dog wouldn’t be any help right now.

The pup was already accepting belly rubs from the waiters and completely ignoring the world around him.

Again: Priorities.

So really, Danny was just doing this for the sake of being extra.

While Ember and Danny continued with their dramatic standoff, the other girl blinked rapidly and turned her head towards Phantom.

“Oh” Kitty’s bad mood banished almost magically in favor of curiously peering at the teen’s figure. Danny fidgeted on his seat apprehensively.“I hadn’t noticed. You are really lean.” Ember snickered. Cujo — coming back from the belly rub induced coma — barked. Phantom sighed and just accepted defeat.

“I suppose that’s somewhat better-” He grumbled under his breath.

Kitty allowed a tiny smile to escape from her lips but shook herself slightly to get back on track. “What are you two even doing here anyway?” She asked, alternating glances between them.

“Pretty sure you already know,” Ember answered, rubbing her cheek against kitty’s green hair and sending A Look at Phantom. “Because someone is not subtle. at. all.” She ended with a hiss and a flare of her hair. Kitty winced lightly at the confirmation. Phantom rolled his eyes.

“Oh, Cry me a table, matchstick.”

Kitty knew alright. Ember made it her personal business to get involved in whatever petty fight Kitty got into, more so if it was about Johnny. Phantom getting involved in the aftermath — and not the fight itself — was new though.“It was just another stupid fight. And- You know, his obsession-”

“Nope. That’s no excuse, Kath.” Ember cut her off. “If you can work around yours for him, then so can he.”

“You can do better.” The teenage boy agreed while Ember continued squeezing her.

“What do you suggest then?”

Phantom and Ember exchanged a look, mirth flashing in their glowing green eyes and matching smirks growing bold, they turned to look back at Kitty. The green-haired girl gulped down her growing unease. In her experience, these two banding together was never a good thing for anyone.

“We are here to talk to you about the Remember Initiative.”

-.-.-.-

“Such a skinny boy!”

“Hey! I’m just lean-!” Phantom let out a yelp as he ducked under yet another juice box “What’s with you people and your obsession with my weight-! Ugh! If you would just listen-! Wait. Is that apple grape?” He said the last part in a hushed rush, looking in silent awe at one of the little juice boxes she was about to throw his way.

The Lunch Lady preened.

“Boxy got them for me! 100% Juice Fruit guaranteed!” She was radiating smugness about these facts.

“Oh my gosh- Wait! NO. That’s not what I came here for!” Danny managed to shake himself out of his stupor just in time to keep evading the Lady’s attempts to shove a spoon full of food down his throat while he was distracted with the juice.

The last time she had gotten a hold of him he had ended up feeling like one of his mom’s thanksgiving turkeys. Danny gulped. Best to just go for it and hope for the best.

“Did you know that there are 37.2 million people living in food-insecure households?!”

The screamed question froze the lunch lady on her tracks. At the look of horror his words achieved, he decided to keep going.

“1 in 6 American children don’t even know where their next meal is coming from.”

The lunch lady let out a horrified gasp, “Those poor children-!”

And with that, the woman exchanged her attempts at stuffing him for furious-but-mournful whisperings. She looked really constipated about this new information. Danny almost felt sad. Almost.

“There is a way to help, you know?”

The lunch lady’s head snapped back towards the half-ghost, eyes narrowed in a glare. Not the usual I’m-going-to-choke-your-skinny-ass-in-food glare, but an I’m-paying-attention-to-your-skinny-ass glare.

Danny refrained from openly cheering after sensing his upcoming victory. Better not chance it.

“Have you ever heard about old San Nicolas?”

-.-.-.-

“You know,” Danny murmured, slurping noisily from one of his juice boxes as he watched from a safe distance how Johnny and Skulker got wrecked by a pair of cute-murderous-girls, “I wasn’t expecting that to work so well.”

His only response was a pair of little barks from the green puppy that was happily squirming on his lap.

The boy paused on his watch to look down at Cujo. Danny extended one of his hands towards the puppy to carefully try to swat at him. The cub rolled onto his back and trapped Danny’s upcoming fingers between his paws with a playful growl, giving little nibbles to the appendage.

He couldn’t help the giddy giggles that escaped him.

Those little paws were precious.

At the sound of high pitched screams Danny’s head snapped back up to continue watching the ongoing smackdown, surrendering complete possession of his hand to Cujo to do as he pleased.

If the Initiative didn’t work out, both girls would do awesome on the wrestling circuit. Not like Ember lacked in the costume department.

Speaking of costumes, he wondered if the match stick would let him borrow her feathered hat. That thing was awesome.

Better just ask.

Once she was done throwing down with skulker, of course.

He was not about to become cannon fodder.

Priorities.

-.-.-.-

“Ahoy! me fellow comrades!! Your future Cap'n ’s talking!! I’m here on a recruiting mission to embark on the most perilous dangers of the Realms!! May ye, dear comrades, embark under your own risk! Arrrgh!! ”

Thanks to Youngblood’s presence the main residential area of Phantom’s keep was starting to become complete disarray. The adult ghosts were frantic for the possible kidnapping of the tiniest ghosts that was most likely going to happen. The children amongst them were cheering for the possible playtime in their future.

The guards were starting to panic. No one had seen the kid enter, much less bring along that enormous ship of his. The little brat was not supposed to be here!

“Who the freaking hell let Young Blood get in?!” One of the guards hollered.

“It’s fine, I invited him.” Came the cheerful reply from behind the guard. “I’m expanding the lair so the kids have more space to mess around. Just don’t tell them.”

The ghost was startled at the voice but didn’t panic anymore. Instead, they started to relax. They knew that voice, but they needed to confirm-

“P-Phantom?”

Phantom, in full cosplay and sporting the biggest feathered pirate hat on this side of the realms, landed lightly beside the startled ghost with a little chuckle, “Just play along, man.”

“Also, pretty sure there should be a ‘Lord’ in there somewhere.”

“I-I thought you preferred to not be called that, my lord?”

Phantom winced.

“Ah- No. It’s- You know what? Never mind, I keep forgetting you guys don’t really get updates of pop culture on this side of the coin” Phantom frowned. “I really should see about getting some wifi for this place”

He continued to murmur about the updates he would need to do to the tech to make that possible. But the guard was not paying attention to his words anymore.

They were staring speechless at the whole pirate get-up the halfa had managed to assemble. It had been mostly borrowed last minute — not that the guard knew that—. It looked really good. Especially the gold hoop earrings that kept swaying slightly alongside the fluffy white hair with every motion of Phantom’s head.

The guard let out a dreamy sigh.

Their Lord was so cute.

“How is everything going?”

“Wha-?” Getting suddenly pulled out of their daydreaming

“The preparations?” Danny hummed distractedly, diligently searching for his journal and pen among the numerous layers of clothing he had donned for the occasion. Why the fuck did this thing have so many pockets?

“Oh,” Came the ghost’s soft exclamation, suddenly remembering the requests the owner of the keep had left the last time he had come around. Finally emerging victorious from his search, Phantom turned to look at them, raising an eyebrow at the lack of proper explanation “Oh, yes! Everything is going smoothly, and we received the last confirmations this morning, sir.”

Danny smiled at the answer, completely unaware of the effect his playful smile had on the guard and the other ghosts that had started to converge there upon seeing their ‘landlord’. “Awesome.”

That was the last one.

-.-.-.-

Well, almost the last one.

He must admit that the shell shocked expressions on Sam and Tucker were funny the first few minutes.

But after having to repeat himself over and over again it had gotten increasingly less funny.

“Y-you are leaving?” Tucker stuttered.

Danny sighed, “Yes, we are leaving. As in, Jazz and me.”

After gaping at him for another few seconds, Sam finally gathered herself enough to start talking again.

“what about the ghost?”

“I- um- already took care of that,“ Danny mumbled, nervously avoiding eye contact while playing with his milkshake straw. “I also cashed in some debts and asked some favors from my allies, so most will be taken care of until we come back. Either way, I will leave enough Fenton Tech for the both of you and Val. Just in case.”

“Enough tech?” Sam repeated incredulously. “That’s it? Just leave some tech and jump boat just like that?” Danny frowned but refrained from answering her until he thought it through. Sam wouldn’t accept less.

Jump boat? That was not really the case. Jazz and he had really put some thought into this, heck even before the Internship on Loony Capital had come up — specifically, since Jazz’s breakthrough — the siblings had already been toying with ways to get some of the most persistent ghosts to back the fuck off, distract them with better and useful targets or entice them into submission.

At first, it had been a tentative thing, something fragile that they didn’t let themselves hope for. But with Jazz’s change of course of action, it had become something more urgent.

They had to pull it off. There were no other options.

Danny pursed his lips, then took a deep breath to strengthen himself for what was coming. “That’s not it-”

“You are just going to dump us.” She announced like it was final in a harsh whisper.

At least she was keeping her tone quiet.

“No one is getting dumped, Sam,” Danny tried to reassure her in the same tone of finality, sans the harshness. “I told you. We already thought this through. I already put some plans in motion and rigged some backups and- ok. Meaby they are not good enough to be permanent but-”

“You are going to put everyone at risk just because Jazz somehow got the ridiculous idea that ‘talking it out’ is the answer” She scoffed.

“Maybe it is. Maybe not. We won’t know until we try.”

“They are ghosts-”

“So am I.” Danny Interjected. Sam seemed to choke on her next words.

“You are not a ghost Danny.” She had, somehow, gained a tone even more quiet and harsh than her previous one.

“Aren’t I?” He was looking directly into her amethyst eyes. Daring her to fight him on this.

He already knew she wouldn’t.

She had opened her mouth to rebut but closed it immediately after. She took a long breath; most likely to prepare for her next rant than to calm herself. Weighing her options. She didn’t seem willing to have that particular conversation. Not yet. Danny had counted on that. “It’s still a goddamn risk.” She finally countered, a slight sliver of defeat coloring her words.

Maybe he had been a little harsh, but he needed her to understand. “There is risk in every choice I could make. This is not different-”

“What about us?”

Ok, so she was just getting her second wind. Fucking amazing. “Sam, please-”

“We are your friends!”

“And she is my sister!” He finally snapped.

She startled. Gazing at him speechless for a moment before standing up and storming out of her seat without a backward glance, making the people on her way part like the red sea. Leaving in her wake a bunch of curious persons staring after her and throwing shameless glances to their table.

So much for not causing a scene in the middle of the Nasty Burger.

The boys ignored the stares. They were already accustomed to being the focus of attention. Almost never positive, mind you. But that was what cleansings were for.

Tucker, who had been silent for most of the back and forth, finally spoke.

“She just needs time to cool off.”

The Fenton boy would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. Sam had always been very opinionated and believed herself to be right most of the time. In her defense, she usually was right and knew how to go about expressing it to her friends without resorting to this kind of standoff. This just appeared to have struck a nerve.

Living with her parents and having to fight for every single choice she wanted to make had left her on a constant defense mode that the boys had learned to navigate in their years of friendship. It hadn’t been easy for anyone. But neither Danny nor Tucker were perfect. They had their quirky shit to deal with.

The three of them stuck together and hadn’t bothered to try and expand their friend group that much over the years. Not like they had many options. But that was ok.

Until now.

With Danny leaving them the relative feeling of a support system was trembling at its foundation.

She was probably scared. So was Tucker if the wobbly but sincere smile he was giving him was any indication.

Danny had to admit that when he let himself think about it he got scared too.

They had been in the same boat for a while and parting ways was not something they had accounted for, not for the near future, at least.

In a weird way, they still would be in the same boat even after they were apart. Struggling to learn how to function without the other there. Sam and Tuck would have each other, they were resilient, he was sure they could cope. He would have Jazz like he always had, enough said. And they would keep going like they always did.

Tucker was right. She would come around. But-

Danny slumped on his seat, running a hand through his hair releasing a big sigh.

“Yeah, I know” He murmured looking pensively in the direction their friend had stormed off. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“So, you are not mad?” Danny asked when he finally turned around towards Tucker.

“Nah, man. Just a little squeezy about dealing with this without you. But if your sister is really going to do this she is going to need you there.” Tucker shuddered a little bit. “I have never been there personally but if the social media and forums are not lying Gotham is a goddamn beast dude.”

The halfa hummed in agreement. Not like Amity Park didn’t have its own reputation on their corner of the internet, but still.

Gotham.

Danny took a sip from his milkshake before doing a mental check-list and frowning, “I’m starting to feel like I’m forgetting something” he whispered.

“Oh god, please don’t say that.”

“It’s okay,” Danny had made his best at planning, so his friends wouldn’t have to deal with the ghost in his absence. But with things like this, you never knew for sure. Not until it slapped you right across the face.“Probably just the paranoia.” ‘I hope’ he finished mentally with a weak laugh.

“Dude,” Tucker started before taking hold of his friend’s hand and squeezing it. “If you need help with anything I’m your man. just say the word.”

Tucker may not understand the full extent of the situation, but he was trying, and that meant a lot to the Fenton. He squeezed back and shot his friend a small but grateful smile.

“It’s ok. Thanks, Tuck-” He cut himself off, being interrupted by the sudden ding of one of Tucker’s devices.

The afro American boy ignored the sound though, in favor of putting his full attention on his friend, an action that demonstrated how serious he was with his words, but Danny was already lost in thought, staring intently at the briefly, but brightly, illuminated screen.

“Actually-” The halfa suddenly chirped, turning his full attention back to the boy across the table. Tucker just blinked back, waiting. Danny leaned forward dragging the other boy towards him so he could continue with a whisper. “You could help me with a pair of things.”

The mischievous smile Tucker was witnessing had come out of nowhere and couldn’t presage anything good, but as it was not aimed at him — necessarily — he couldn’t help but join in.

Several cities over, some of Gotham’s more infamous residents couldn’t find an explanation to the sudden shiver that ran up their spines.

-.-.-.-

When Danny made it back home he didn’t waste time tracking his sister down. She was down in the lab, typing away on the main computer and using one of her shoulders to keep her mobile pressed against her ear.

She was in the middle of a conversation and still managing to rewrite part of the ghost portal code like a pro.

His sister sure loved multitasking.

At the sound of the door closing behind the younger Fenton, Jazz looked up from the screen to shoot a brief smile to her brother before carrying on with her conversation.

“Yes. That’s perfect, I will be sending the three files then-”

The boy froze on his step and blinked a pair of times. She was already talking with one of the G. A. proctors? When he left this morning he had just dumped his proposals on Jazz for a second revision. He wasn’t expecting to have them sent already.

Hmm. Well, to be fair, he had rambled at Jazz about his projects relentlessly whenever he had a chance and didn’t feel like death warmed over.

Which weren’t many times. But once he got into a ramble it was an Olympic endeavor to shut him up. He was a Fenton. It was in their blood. Jazz did it too, even if she tried to chalk it up to healthy-and-completely-natural excitement.

So. Jazz already knew the contents pretty well, it was just a question of pulling off the presentation, which was the thing that Jazz was supposed to check over.

His sister had given him some tips, and even if his parents were not as invested in the writing process as in the practical, the fruit loop had more than enough experience doing it and didn’t give two flying fucks over whether or not Danny wanted his knowledge.

Danny knew monologing was an essential part of a villainous experience but he had spent way too much time listening to Vlad bitch about most of his employees to last him a lifetime.

Even little Madeline couldn’t stop the loneliness that had brought the madness. Danny had put so many hopes in the fluffy thing.

Letting out a resigned sigh the boy decided to just let it go and be grateful that his sister - who had more than five Universities fighting over her- deemed it acceptable already.

He liked writing his ideas down, but using formal language and fudging APA was fucking exhausting.

Good fucking riddance. He thought, shaking his head slightly and sending a light sneer in the computer’s direction. As if the files on it could feel his disdain from his position on the other side of the room.

Danny spotted some of her sister’s nail polish bottles by her side on the table and made a beeline for them and took most of the little bottles before retreating to a chair on the other side of the desk.

He had heard some of the cheerleaders saying that the nail polish helped to keep the nails from getting all fucked up quite as easily, and it had caught his attention.

Danny had looked down at his hands and winced. Normally he didn’t pay much attention to his nails, but ever since getting on a constant string of fights he was more aware of how easily the goddamn things could break on you if you didn’t trim them properly, and it hurt like a bitch every time. It always seemed to be the tiniest things that told you to ‘fuck off’ to your face like nothing else.

Danny guessed that it was worth the try. And if anything, putting some color on them would help hide some of the blood — and ectoplasm — that got under his fingernails.

So he tried it out.

By this point, he was not sure if it really helped or he was just fooling himself into thinking it did work. The only sure thing was that he didn’t feel comfortable going without it anymore.

Danny liked to borrow the clear nail protector from Jazz, but most of the polish he had in his possession had been previously Sam’s. All pastels and cheery colors that her mom kept insisting on buying her because they kept being used.

“Thank you, Miss Gordon!”

If she had bothered to pay more attention to her daughter’s friends for more than sneering at them she may have noticed Danny’s pastel pink nails. But she hadn’t. And that had just ensured Danny a constant supply of pastels to cover his bloodied nails with-

“So, how did it go?”

“Uh.” The boy startled at the sudden proximity of the voice. He looked up from his nails and to his sister, who was now seated beside him.

“The execution.” Jazz prodded, smiling at him in anticipation. It looked downright creepy, considering the words she used.

“Seriously Jazz?” He snorted. “You make it sound like I went there to dispatch murder at random.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His sister scoffed, watching how her brother resumed painting his nails. “They are already dead. You couldn’t kill them any more than they already are.”

“I could certainly try.”

“Danny-”

“Let’s just say the all-nighter paid off, and leave it at that.”

“So you had fun.” She teased. Stealing back one of the bottles of polish to finish her own nails with a second coat.

“For the most part, but-” He stopped, struggling to find words to describe the sheer mayhem that went down in the zone-

Jazz just hummed and gave him a little nod, still focusing on her nails. Danny relaxed. He could tell her later. When he had cooled off some more from the attack-protect mode he got into whenever he visited the zone. Remembering it all right now would just set him off again.

“So, what do you want for dinner?” The redhead asked suddenly.

Danny blinked a pair of times, perplexed, and stole a look at the clock.“It’s a little late to be asking that, don’t you think?”

“I suppose, but I decided to wait for you and then got sidetracked with the files.” She really needed to work on her awareness of time. “Didn’t even notice the hour.”

“I don’t even remember what we have in the cupboards.”

“Maybe we could-” She didn’t manage to suggest something before she got interrupted by their mother’s voice.

“Dinner is ready!”

“They made dinner?” Danny whispered to Jazz in dread.

“So it seems,” she responded, sharing his dread.

“Why did they make dinner? They never make dinner!”

“I mean, they do for special occasions, like-” She shuddered. “Like thanksgiving.”

This was ridiculous. Jazz and he were normally the ones cooking. Their parents spent most of their time in the lab or trying to hunt down ghosts. Today was not a holiday. They hadn’t invented anything new worth the ‘celebration’. There wasn’t a reason for them to-

“Oh! and Vlad is here~!”

Danny slammed his face against the desk with a groan.

Jazz winced at the sound.

“Time to face the music, little bro” She closed the polish bottles and patted him carefully on the back a few times before standing up and going to the kitchen.

“I still feel like I’m forgetting something…” Danny grumbled under his breath before following his sister upstairs.

-.-.-.-

It was the last Friday of the month and this could perfectly be one of Jazz’s many attempts to make them a functional family unit.

Except that the Fenton girl had let said efforts slip in favor of pursuing her little brother’s scholarship.

Oh, And the fruitloop was here.

Vlad had weaseled into the family’s — unplanned — plans because of course, he did.

“Everything looks absolutely lovely Madeline.”

Jazz would have believed his words. If she hadn’t seen the man poke at the food on the table with the wariness of a man on the death warrant whenever mom was not looking.

The siblings had spent way too many family dinners doing the same thing whenever they couldn’t quite manage to keep the older Fentons off the kitchen. And even when they did, they didn’t lower their guard. The chance of contamination was always a latent threat to the house.

Jazz turned her head slightly to look at her brother. The boy was, very pointedly, not poking at his food and just watched it with all the scorn he could gather. He refused to do the same things as Vlad, which didn’t mean he was crazy enough to try and eat the food on his plate.

The dinner proceeded with making some catching up, abundant science talk, teasing, scathing remarks, sighing, and finally dissolved in a three-way match between the Fenton children and one Vlad Masters to see who could dispose of the food in the most sneaky way.

She had always wondered how the man survived with her parents for as long as he did back in their college years. She knew now.

“Oh! And Jazzrinces finally decided on a college! The G.S.A. is backing up her research on ghosts! Isn’t that incredible?!”

Vlad smiled blandly at Jack. Skillfully suppressing the sneer the man’s cheeriness was trying to invoke to his face. He had lots of practice.

“And Danny decided to tag along to help his sister! Isn’t he such a sweet boy?” Maddie added with a cheer a little more forced than her husband’s. But still, cheer.

Now, that. That got Vlad’s attention. And he decided to take advantage of the children’s distraction to get more information and decide a proper plan of action.

Dany was making it a point to completely ignore the three adult’s conversation. Jazz stuck to taking small sips from her glass of water. That was, until-

“Surely you’re not planning on sending them without some proper equipment, are you?” Vlad tutted. “Don’t get me started on weapons. I mean you never know for certain what will be indispensable, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea!”

The heads of both children snapped up.

“I mean, most of my research isn’t-” Jazz tried hastily to stop this on its tracks.

Sadly, it was not to be.

“Nonsense Jazz,” Her mom interrupted her, “It’s better to be prepared!”

Vlad hummed in agreement, “They won’t, after all, have anyone else to protect them from those trashy ghosts.”

Just like that, the Fenton parents started to list out loud all the things the kids would surely need for the research.

Vlad smirked.

Danny narrowed his eyes at the pompous fucker.

Jazz resigned herself to keep sighing until the end of times.

-.-.-.-

“How are we supposed to take this with us..?” Danny whispered looking horrified at all the equipment his parents had just thrown their way

“Can’t you just put it in the thermos?”

“The ectoplasmic energies of each Item would clash horribly” Danny winced

“You tried to…?” Jazz side-eyed him

“Yes.” He said curtly, “Wouldn’t really recommend” he continued with the air of someone haunted by the consequences of their life choices. death choices. Both were accurate, she supposed.

Jazz swallowed.

Cue in more silent horrified staring at the equipment.

“Maybe if we start with some boxes-”

“BEWARE!!! THE BOX GHOST!!!”

“Oh my god-!”

“I Fucking knew it!!”

-.-.-.-

A little while after, once the ghost box was gone, and the siblings had retreated to Jazz’s room for safety and the opportunity of proper evening gossip. The fruitloop came barging into the room.

“Ok. I raided the kitchen. There is nothing edible in this house. How do you even survive.” He stated, not asked, in a deeply judgemental tone.

“Magic. Pokemon Magic.” Danny deadpanned from his place on the bed. Jazz, who was cuddled beside him, was still chewing on the dry crackers that managed to survive the onslaught of their parents, for the simple reason that the things had been in her room.

Vlad sighed and started to massage his temples.

“Fine. Truce. Grab your things, we are going out.”

Jazz slightly choked on her crackers. Danny just choked on air. “What? Where-?”

“To get some proper food, of course.” The man sneered like it was completely obvious and tagging a smirk on for good riddance.

“Why would-”

“You have directions. I have the money. Chop chop. Before your parents catch us.” With that, the millionaire turned around and left, leaving the door wide open fully expecting them to follow along.

The siblings stared at each other for a moment before scrambling after Vlad.

Food was more important than playing the archnemesis-game.

For the hundred time that day:

Priorities.

ENDNOTES:

I couldn’t help the fucking references. Danny is a dork and I am ashamed.

-.-.-.-

I headcanon Danny as someone who really likes pet names, be it because he really likes the person or because it pisses them off. Two stones a deader bird.

-.-.-.-

What do you mean The Avengers aren’t a boyband?

-.-.-.-

The siblings are firm believers of the borrowing culture. There is no shame in asking to borrow some things.

Are those Ember’s hat & earrings? Yes. Yes, they are.

Why does Danny have his ears pierced, you ask? BECAUse there is no absolute heteronormative bullshit in this household AND I MUST ADD THAT-!

-Danny & Jazz watched ‘The parent trap’ when they were small little beans and were really interested in whether or not piercing your sibling’s ears was the ultimate bonding moment.

Jazz insisted on researching a lot more about proper sterilizing, mind you- but like the tiny feral unsupervised cupcakes they were, they decided to try it.

Jazz already had her ears pierced, SO, yeah.

It hurt like a bitch for Danny, and Jazz panicked for a week afterward about infections, but it was indeed a good bonding moment.

-.-.-.-

If I ship Jason with some fucking therapy does that mean I can ship him with Jazz?

Ship’s name is JJ for you.

… I just gave myself YOI flashbacks.

Fuck.

-.-.-.-

You might want to say: ‘but author-san, those are not all the ghosts Danny deals with?’, and you are damn right they aren’t, but you must trust in Danny thousand-back-ups Fenton, my children.

(Also, where would be the fun if everyone was accounted for since now? You will see what went down later on. :p)

-.-.-.-

Don’t know if you noticed, but Jazz is not the only one that thinks Danny is a cutie patootie :v

Danny has long ago resigned himself to the being called “Lord” thing. Is better than the ‘K’ word.

-.-.-.-

The thing about the nails is something I do. I started because they looked pretty, I kept painting them because I felt they broke up more easily if I didn’t put like three coats of polish on them.

At least I don’t bite them as much anymore. :p

-.-.-.-

If there is someone on this green earth that knows about the struggles of living with Jack and Maddie Fenton, that someone is Vlad Masters.

Change my mind.

You can’t.

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bibliophilea · 4 years

Text

One Small Step

Hello @trash-aged-like-fine-wine! I am your Holiday Truce gifter! And I am so, so sorry for the wait! I’ve wanted to write for @ghostfiish‘s Space AU for a good long while, so I was very excited when you sent me the Space AU prompt! I hope your holidays were good, and I hope this was worth the wait!

ffn | ao3

TW: angst, PTSD

***

Danny remembers learning about space.

He remembers laying down on his back and gazing up at the stars projected on his ceiling and walls, dreaming of soaring among them.

He remembers his mother holding him close, telling him the stories of the constellations - of Asiris, the great teacher who taught his people how to fly, and of Halphoruns, the hero who stole a piece of the heavens above to bless them with the ability to experience the tranquility and wonder of space directly - a gift, his mother had said, that felt like the freedom of the infinite and the safety of the womb.

He remembers his father flying with him to the uppermost outskirts of the city - where the trees were tall and the foliage was thick and the floating islands were small, tethered to the trees where their roots met the vines that crisscrossed the canopy. His father would bring him to the largest of those islands - barely an acre of grass and dirt, but a whole planet to run and play through to his young eyes. And as their star set and the moons and the stars beyond made themselves known, he would lay next to his father, who would point to the spots of light peppering the night sky and tell him about the wonders and marvels and sheer plethora of life that lit the night, so far away, yet so close he could almost touch it when his father spoke.

Space was a garden, he remembers learning. Teeming with life, every pinprick of light and every swath of darkness vast with possibilities, and every living being tending to that garden. His people held space at the core of their being - they were a part of the universe and the universe in turn was a part of them, their heaviest of atoms forged in the hearts of stars that had died long ago, and yet lived through them. His memories of his first home are inseparable from his first impressions of space.

But Danny’s first memories of space itself don’t count.

They are memories of the world tearing itself apart. The ground beneath him cracking and shattering, its upheaval screeching and roaring as though the planet itself were screaming.

They are memories of fleeing and terror and flying further and faster and higher than he’d ever been allowed to - not because he could, but because he had no choice, because people were dying and the world was ending and the only safety was space.

They are memories of space itself holding no comfort - not when he could hear the cries of his people echoing across his mind; not when he could feel the heat of the core of his home spilling out from itself, exploding from the cracks and searing the universe with bright green-white light he couldn’t bear to look at even from the island he had hidden behind; not when the stars, which had seemed so close not so long ago, only a step away, suddenly felt very, very far.

They are memories of a world - his home - the only place he’d ever known - being ripped apart, piece by piece, molecule by molecule, in violent convulsions that destroyed his planet and his people and his culture and left him screaming in the aftermath - screaming along with his people and his planet, screaming and screaming and screaming until he was the only one left to scream.

In those hours before the Fentons found him, he learned the horror of the death of his world; the loneliness of his people’s screams dwindling until he could only feel his own; the terror of realizing he was truly alone in the vastness of space, that he could not do anything to save himself, that no one was coming for him, that he was destined to die alone.

This was not freedom, or safety, or life. This was not space.

This does not deserve to be remembered as space.

So Danny doesn’t. He locks it away in a box called The Incident, and he tries not to think about it. It’s over. It’s done. There’s nothing he can do.

And if he holds a little too tightly to the armrests when turbulence jolts the transport pod as it roughly shoves against the atmosphere, well, no one likes transport pod travel, so it’s not like he’s the only one.

And if he wakes from a nightmare with tears in his eyes, holding back a scream that could shake the barracks....

Well.

He knows how to blot his eyes so the unshed tears don’t ruin the make up hiding the green of his skin. And he knows how to sneak soundlessly to the galley to grab some tea. The scent - chamomile and jasmine - puts him at ease, puts him just a step away from his first home. And the view from the window is stunning. If he leans at just the right angle, he can see the constellation where his home used to be. It quells the yearning ache in his heart, at least a little bit, to know the light of his home still shines upon him.

This, he thinks. This is space.

Not The Incident.

Never The Incident.

***

Danny stands at the heart of the airlock. The artificial gravity unnerves him, so he ignores it - takes a breath and reaches for his core, for the small piece of space he holds in his heart, and floats for the first time since joining the space corps. Harder to ignore are the calls from his crew - the pleading yips from Cujo, the angry shouts from Sam, the worried cries from Kwan. Danny can’t face them right now - if he does, he’s afraid he might go back.

And for the sake of them all, there can be no turning back.

Tucker is busy fixing the computer controlling oxygen storage and circulation from the asteroid strike - otherwise he’d be just outside the airlock, too, telling him what a dumbass he is - but Danny knows that even with all their help from the inside, they don’t have enough time. Not when Danny could see the leak from the portal outside the command center, opposite from the only working airlock left on the ship.

After a quick diagnostics, Danny had dashed from the room, nearly flying down the corridors to reach the airlock, his crewmates’ cries for him to stop, to think things through, to remember they didn’t have any working helmets echoing behind him. He had managed to shut the airlock and manually lock it behind him before his crewmates could follow him in.

He shifts the space in his core and floats to the airlock controls - a separate system from the life system controls, thank goodness, or else Tucker would have interfered - and sets the airlock to vent. It takes about 30 seconds, and he counts every single one of them, only just remembering to remove his contacts before the lenses can warp and scratch his eyes.

The hiss of the airlock dies, and the sound of his crewmates dies with it as the last of the air empties from the small space. Danny is tempted to look back, to make sure they’re still there, but he’s afraid of what he might see. Any chance of pretending to be human is gone. His makeup and hair dye may cover him, but the facade is shattered, disintegrated and swept away like so many air molecules scattered into the vacuum of space.

Danny floats down to the outer door of the airlock and grabs the manual override keeping the door shut. With the strength of two humans, he forces the lock open, straining against both the physical system in place and the vacuum of space it’s designed to guard against. It takes him 42 seconds, and he counts every one of them, as well - every second another spurt of precious oxygen lost to the void.

But finally, with one last strain and a click, the door opens. Danny is, for the first time since The Incident, completely exposed to the vacuum of space.

He feels the air in his lungs pressing for release, and he lets it go, feeling rather than hearing the whisper as it escapes through his mouth and nose. He can’t help it as he floats to the edge of the airlock, his feet alighting on smooth metal. He can’t help but stare at the vastness of space, unfiltered by a helmet full of air - at the pinpricks of light and swatches of blackness, all of it teeming with just as much life as his father had said there was, so many years ago, he knows. His gaze sweeps from the constellation that holds Earth, his second home - up to the cluster of galaxies that hold Florana - across to the light of his first home, a physical remnant of the memory of his people, crying out into the void that they were there once, that they existed, that they lived on through the light that passed and through their only surviving son.

This, he thinks. This is space.

He blinks back tears. Remembers his mission. He does not know how many seconds have passed, but he is certain he’s spent enough time remembering his people. There will be time for that later - for now, he has to plot the most efficient path to the oxygen leak. For now, he has to save his crewmates - his friends - his family.

He turns his head from his first home, casting his gaze along the side of the ship, preparing himself to fly through space for the first time.

One small step for a man...

He leaps.

#danny phantom #space au #ghostfiish #dp space au #danny phantom space au #holiday truce 19 #trash aged like fine wine #my write #my work #i hope you like this as much as i liked writing it #and again i am so sorry for how late this is #thank you for the excellent prompt #i had fun with it #not a q

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robbyrobinson · 4 years

Text

Stephen King Villains: Most Evil to Least Evil

Stephen King is considered the master of horror best known for his prolific writing career that in itself takes place in a multiverse of sorts. Besides monsters and supernatural beings, there are also very, very evil humans that also antagonize the protagonists.

Most Evil

Most Evil would go to Randall Flagg. He is probably the closest thing to the Devil that exists in King's works, though Nyarlathotep is also said to be one of his many titles. He appears in several of King's novels sowing chaos wherever possible. He was apart of many violent tragedies such as race riots, lynchings, you name them. In The Stand, he sets himself up as some sort of god for those who also had penchants for violence. In The Dark Tower series, he works alongside the Crimson King and gets into even more acts like destroying a city and driving a woman insane by having a dead man recount to her what he had seen in the afterlife. Ultimately, his plan is to topple the Dark Tower itself which would spell destruction for the multiverse.

Bronze goes to It. An ancient, primordial evil, It was originally from the Macroverse before crash landing to the area that would eventually become Derry, Maine where it establishes a cycle of awakening every 27 years to kill and devour Derry's children even though it is implicated that It doesn't need to consume the flesh of its prey as it could live off their fear alone. But it is their fear that makes their meat tastier to It. It is an egotistical, narcissistic being who views itself as being superior above humans and its archenemy Maturin the Turtle. It is first defeated by the Losers Club back in the 1950s after it had killed the young brother of Bill Denbrough only to return 27 years later to settle the score.

Silver...it's a tough one, but I ultimately decided that William Wharton from The Green Mile earns this spot. He is not the most powerful being in the books nor is he anywhere close to the first two's level. Simply put, he is a disgusting piece of human garbage that should've gotten fried to death in the electric chair for what he had done. He is first taken to the Mile after killing two people, one of which was a pregnant woman. When he arrives, he pretends to be in a near-drunken state only to then attempt to strangle one of the wardens. That in itself is bad, but what pushes him further is the fact that he was the one who raped and killed those two girls that John Coffey is being sentenced to death over. He used the sisters' love for each other to coerce them not to scream lest he kill one of them before leading them out of their house.

Patrick Hockstetter. A pure solipsistic psychopath, Patrick was a member of Henry Bowers's gang but he was especially nasty. He took perverse delight at killing animals but that is not his main claim to infamy. As a solipsist, he believes that no one exists aside from himself...essentially the world revolved around him. When he learned that his mother had given birth, Patrick felt threatened. So much so, he smothered the baby to death with a pillow.

Norman Daniels, the main antagonist of Rose Madder. A corrupt cop, he domestically abuses his wife Rose and in one instance sexually assaulted her and later caused her to suffer a miscarriage. When she leaves him, Norman pursues her, murdering and torturing those in his way his preferred method being biting them to death.

Leland Gaunt of Needful Things sets up a novelty shop in Castle Rock where he has his victim's greatest desires in stock, but they had to pay a sum and additionally stage a prank. A magical charm that drives the residents to madness one instance being when two women killed themselves in a madness-inducing stupor leading to a young boy killing himself.

Rose the Hat. A little lower on the list. A True Knot (quasi-immortal vampiric beings), she feeds on steam, as in the dying breath of children who have "the Shining." This is of course done through torturing children to death. Despite committing serial murders, plausibly in the hundreds depending on how long she and her clan were operating, she nevertheless greatly cares for her fellow True Knots and becomes increasingly incensed by Danny Torrance and Abra Stone killing them.

Going to King's first novel Carrie, we have several trash. Chris Hargensen bullies Carrie White relentlessly climaxing in her staging a terrible prank where she drops a bucket full of pig's blood on Carrie's head at the prom after forging fake votes for Carrie. Following her is Margaret White , Carrie's mother. An insane religious zealot, she emotionally and psychologically abuses her daughter as she saw it as her fault that Carrie received telekinetic powers because of her perceived mistake. After the massacre, Margaret attempts to kill Carrie.

The Overlook Hotel. At first it seems odd that I would include what is basically an inanimate object. But in the book The Shining, it is made apparent that the hotel is alive and is greatly evil. It drives those who visit it to madness ultimately resulting in them killing their families and then themselves. Once it completely possesses Jack Torrance, it fully has its malevolent intentions out in the open.

The Shawshank Redemption. Kind of more leaning towards the film adaptation, but here goes: Samuel Norton is the warden of the Shawshank prison. Initially coming off as a kind man with that rich Southern Christian rhetoric, Norton is truly a greedy man ruling Shawshank with an iron fist allowing rapes and other evils to happen on his grounds. He uses the prisoners for cheap labor in a money laundering scheme which he forces Andy to assist him with. Unlike in the book, when Tommy has information proving Andy's innocence, Norton sends for Captain Byron T. Hadley to kill Tommy.

Next would be Bogs Diamond. The leader of a group of men called The Sisters, he enjoys violently raping his victims one of his favorite being Andy. But it isn't because he's gay, but more because he derives disgusting glee from raping them when they were at their lowest state.

Henry Bowers, the secondary antagonist of It, is a racist, Anti-Semitic, misogynistic, fat-shaming lunatic who graduates to murdering his own father before deciding to go to kill the Losers Club when they enter the sewer system to face off against It/Pennywise. But it is shown that his father was abusive and he likely learned a lot of his prejudices from him. But he also stands as a trope of King's where you have insane bullies.

Lastly, we get to Percy Wetmore the secondary antagonist of The Green Mile. Somehow coming off as more reprehensible than the real villain of the book, Wetmore is a low-functioning sociopath who primarily came to the Cold Mountain Penitentiary to watch the death row inmates die.

Especially despising Delacroix, he kills Mr. Jingles by stepping on him out of spite, and he later deliberately leaves the sponge dry leading to Delacroix's excruciatingly botched, prolonged execution where he literally cooks in Old Sparky. He's kind of lower on the list mostly because of his film counterpart looking horrified. Something tells me that he probably was only thinking that by not wetting the sponge it would give Delacroix a little more pain, but he wasn't anticipating for the events to ensue the way they did. Though him being forced to watch is cathartic as was what became of him in the ending.

Least Evil

Cujo takes the first spot. All he wanted was to be a good boy, but all that changed when he was bitten by a rabid bat. Now he kills those that he miscontrues as being responsible for his pain.

Carrie White was the protagonist of Stephen King's first book. Born with telekinetic powers, Carrie was bullied by her peers; mistreated by her fundamentalist mother...ultimately she was driven insane when that horrible prank at the prom befell her. She committed horrible acts, but ultimately, it is understandable. It was only a matter of time for her to snap.

Jack Torrance: While he tries to kill his wife and son, part of it largely falls on the Overlook corrupting him. He was abused by his father ultimately becoming an alcoholic who unwittingly dislocated Danny's arm. At the least before the Overlook's destruction he had a moment of clarity.

Christine: A sapient possessed 1958 Plymouth Fury vintage vehicle who acts like a envious girlfriend when it comes to its owners. Worse, it is fully able of numping people off if need be.

The Wendigo: In Pet Sematary, it is a wendigo that is responsible for the cursed grounds that whatever was buried in its soils, an evil, undead version arises. This happens to Church the cat and especially to Gage. However, the Wendigo is presented more as a force of nature than truly evil.

Annie Wilkes: After saving Paul, it seems at first Annie was a kind woman...at least until she found out that Paul killed off her favorite character and becomes hellbent on forcing him to rewrite the ending where she was alive again. She holds him hostage and even breaks his legs as punishment (though it's much worse in the novel). Worse, it is revealed that Annie is a serial killer with a body count in potentially the 70s with multiple infants dying under mysterious circumstances while under her care. More patients end up dying but they were mostly ignored as the patients were already deathly sick prior. But with all that being said, Annie does have severe mental issues to the point where she is unable to discern reality from fiction.

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