#cw: pretty vivid descriptions of the accident

[angelic-ish-phantom]

Dannymay7

Lab safety

“This doesn’t sound safe.” Jazz protested. From the look on her face, Danny thought she might have been trying to sound judgmental, but she only managed worried.

“Relax, Jazzy.” Dad said, “Dann-o’s more than old enough to be allowed in the lab. Besides, he actually wants to do some chores for a change!”

“He already does…” Jazz murmured.

“I wanna help in the basement!” Danny insisted, jumping excitedly.

“But what if he gets hurt!” His sister insisted.

“Danny what are our rules?” Mom asked absently.

“Um- No, no being in the lab without adult superstition,”

oOo

Danny felt a wave of regret as he walked down the basement steps. His legs grew lead-heavy, and he slowed to a nervous amble-shuffle behind his two closest—only—friends, wishing, not for the first time, that he had put a stop to this excursion when it had only been an idea.

He couldn’t remember for the life of him how Sam and Tucker had made this sound so appealing.

“Guys, there really isn’t anything interesting down there” he attempted, uncertain. It was technically true, for all the time his parents spent down there—a familiar pang of resentment struck him, a twisted blade in an old wound—few things in the lab worked, as many of them required ‘ghosts’ to be tested or demonstrated; nearly every single one of his parents’ gadgets was a product of ‘ludicrous delusions’ (as Jazz had put it) despite the fact they were able to construct ridiculously complex and advanced technology based on their fictional creatures.

“Danny, You live here. You’re hardly one to judge.” Tucker said, excitement tinting his voice, and while Danny couldn’t deny that was valid, it was hardly fair.

“Plus, you said they’ve been building a portal, how do you not hear how cool that sounds?” Sam countered easily, stopping in her descent to lightly grab his wrist, and began pulling him along. He almost abandoned his protest.

The portal. It was his parents’ life’s work. The hole in the wall of the lab had been there since before he was born, and anytime he caught his parents going over theories, or blueprints, or just any aspect of their profession, the portal came up. It was even the reason they weren’t home; Jazz had pushed them to stop moping at its failure, called their festering dependence on its success unhealthy, and told them to go out and enjoy themselves, and Danny admittedly couldn’t remember the last time his parents left the house for anything that was purely recreational.

It was actually unbelievable that the portal hadn’t come up prominently in a conversation with his best friends before… Although It had been on the forefront of Danny’s mind lately. He thought it’s completion (it’s failure) might mean his parents would drop the whole ‘ghost hunters’ thing—not that he could imagine that—and hopefully pursue a normal career, or at least obsess over something more… tangible.

“Come on dude, your parents are never out. We might not get the chance to check it out again. Plus, you’ve got to admit it does sound cool. What’s the harm?”

oOo

“Supervision.” Jazz corrected.

“That’s what I said! Don’t interrupt or I’ll forget!”

“If you forget them, then you don’t know them and you should be allowed in the lab! Danny it’s dangerous.”

Danny scowled and ignored her, counting off the second rule on his fingers as he continued, “Always wear my science suit,”

oOo

“What is it?” He asked, curious. Sam turned and looked at him, before a devious, mirthful glint entered her eyes. He shouldn’t have asked, terrible idea, he’d never felt so much regret..

“Danny, you should go inside the portal.” She said waving her camera. Oh. He tried to protest.

“I really shouldn’t. It could be dangerous.” He offered.

“You said it doesn’t work, so there shouldn’t be any problem.” Tucker countered, teasing, a silent dare on the words, as he moved to stand with him and Sam.

“Tuck…” Danny groaned.

“That settles it.” Sam half-cheered, pushing him towards the wall opening.

“But, the radiation—” Danny started, digging his feet into the ground. He knew that line of argument was pointless; ‘ectoplasmic radiation’ could potentially do some terrifying things—the fridge was a prime example of that—but with the concentration the portal was emitting, the worst he could get was something akin to a sunburn (plus contamination). His parent must have told him a thousand times at this point, and always they followed up with attempts to talk him and Jazz into wearing their—

“Didn’t you say you had a hazmat suit in here.” Sam interrupted, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

“There’s a box of clothes on that cabinet.” Tucker pointed out, already moving to carry it down.

“…There are open wires in there.” Danny knew his objections had devolved into whining at this point.

Sam simply raised an eyebrow, letting her eyes fall to the thick wires that ran across the portal floor, and the few, spark-less cut ones tucked neatly to the sides of the portal. Danny’s shoulders slumped as he admit defeat.

“Just one picture.” Danny compromised heading over to the box, Tucker was already digging through.

Sam appeared to be opposed, but didn’t say otherwise. “one picture,” she assured, following him.

In the box, there were four complete hazmat suits, only two of them being his size: One orange, one a pale white. Danny chose the white one, because it was the same make as the ones his parents constantly dawned, while the other, while thicker, rigged with lead and metal parts that would offer more protection, it might have taken him hours to figure out how to put on complex article, even with Sam and Tucker’s help.

He quickly unzipped it, slipping into the suit easily and zipping it up over his clothes, before looking down at himself with a pained expression.

“I look ridiculous.” He said into his gloved hands, covering the emerging blush.

Sam walked up to him and ripped off the sticker of his father’s face that had been stuck on the centre of his chest. “Problem solved.” She deadpanned.

Danny groaned, but conceded. He headed towards the portal entrance, keeping a hand on the edge. He looked back: Tucker was grinning madly, and Sam beckoned him forward, camera still in hand. He sighed and gazed back into the portal.

oOo

“-and… never ever play with any of the stuff mom and dad build.” He finished smugly.

oOo

“If I die, I’m going to haunt both of you!” Danny threw over his shoulder, much the amusement of his closest companions.

Step. Step. Step.

Danny felt himself becoming more weighed down with each step. Anxieties and fears pooling in his gut, knotting his stomach. He breathed out slowly, attempting to push back the pointless dread he felt. He continued to tensely tiptoe over the wires. Nothing in here could hurt him. He flinched at a released puff of steam. So why was he so afraid?

He turned around to see Sam’s camera raised. He gave, a small, shaky smile.

Flash.

Danny rubbed his eyes, stumbling a bit, but caught himself. Tucker looked over Sam’s shoulder as she shook out the photo; he waited.

“It’s good!” She called over to him. Good. He could get out of here now.

“This one’s definitely a keeper!” Tucker declared merrily, snatching it out of Sam’s hand and holding it up to his own face.

“Hey!” Sam complained reaching for it, but Tucker held It out of her reach. He was the tallest of the three of them, so Sam shouldn’t have been able to get it back. A kick to the shins accompanied by a yelp, and Tucker was down.

Danny sighed fondly. Tucker may be tall, but Sam was Sam.

Danny watched the scene, a genuine smile stretching across his face. “Just make sure my parents don’t see it or they’ll never let me take this stupid jumpsuit off.” Danny was only half joking, and judging by the way his Sam cackled, while Tucker tried to hide his snorts, they could tell. He eased up, moving an arm up to lean against the wall of the portal.

It hit him like a brick.

Pure unadulterated dread, as he commit to the action, the unnatural air that had been resting over the house, over Amity as a whole, turned cloying and thick.

Something was coming, something was coming. Something was coming. SomethingwascomingSomethingwascom—

Click.

A lot of things happened in the next instant.

The first thing Danny saw was white. Well, he wasn’t so sure he’d seen it, as opposed to feeling it: hot white, seething on the surface of his skin, running up his arm and phasing deeper and deeper until Danny was sure he was feeling his bones, the light cutting through the fibres of his being, tiny needles made from static.

It hurt.

He was hyperaware; he was cognisant of every part of his body. He was connected with the rims of his bleeding ears, felt the backs of his eyes roll as they charred and shrivelled, tasted his too-dry organs as if they were a bad meal coming back up.

It hurt.

The next thing Danny saw was green. At this point Danny was sure he had been frozen in the blistering light-heat for some long agonising minutes, but only when that chilling of green washed over him, through him—hitting him like the weight of an avalanche in a dream, fuzzy and not there with a force—did he acknowledge time had slowed, that he hadn’t even been there for a second.

Ithurt.

Reality twisted upright upon the green’s impact and Danny finally felt, full-force, something he knew was present, but hadn’t truly been able to process before then. He was in pain. He was burning and freezing all over. His body was being grated away at. He vaguely recalled when he was eight and Dash had shoved him into the pavement while he’d been running from him: the scrapes were deep on his knees and hands, and his split open lip made eating burn for days; the pain felt dull and quiet compared to this. But, that memory played in the back of his mind, meanwhile, any semblance of coherent thought fizzed away, the contorting sensations and sharp agonies trying to erase him, leave only cold ashes behind.

(His last real thought was doused In relief; he thanked every star in the sky that this had been his mistake, that Sam and Tucker were safe and wouldn’t have to feel this torture. They should never have to.)

Ithurt Ithurt Ithurt

Seconds passed and that thrum of awareness that had let him feel everything as he was cooked Inside out, dulled painfully. Slowly. Enough for him to regain thought, to try and make his lungs work (to no avail), to try and blink away the fire only to find his eyelids just weren’t there anymore.

Ithurtithurtihurt

He felt something heavy grow in his chest (or maybe somewhere far away? He wasn’t too sure) and pull pieces of his mind away. Coax pieces of something more him than his mind, something more.

He wasn’t as resistant to it as he should have been, instead letting it lump within him—it felt like that strange green—take charge while memories resurfaced. He just wanted the pain to stop.

ItHuRt iTHurT IthUrT—

Suddenly, Danny remembered. He remembered when Jazz took him to school on his first day of first grade. He remembered how happy he was when she’d gotten him a toy rocket for show and tell. He remembered looking up at her and telling her exactly what he’d always thought; Jazzy was the best sister in the world and he wanted to be smart and amazing like her. He remembers how he met Tucker when he was crying, because Ryan had torn his new Barrett, and Danny had snagged it back, hid it away, and later offered to help him fix it. He remembers how happy he was when his mom taught him how to sew (even though he already knew how), and he remembered how ecstatic he was when she tried to teach him how to cook for the first time. He remembers how joyous he felt when his dad agreed to come in for careers day. He remembered how much he regret asking. He remembered the whispers of freak, and the way they’d called his parents loons. He remembered the way Star and Mickey, and Lester, and Ashley, and Mia wouldn’t hang around him anymore. He remembered feeling alone. He remembered when Tucker didn’t leave. He remembered the way his teachers looked at him with disappointment, thinking he couldn’t be smart like Jazz. He remembered trying to prove them wrong. He remembered getting fed up with Dash and Dale’s when their teasing and tormenting got worse for everyone when they got on the football team. He remembered Dash taking everything he did as a challenge. He remembered getting in trouble for fighting Dash even though he never fought back. He remembered some of his peers stopped insulting him when he passed by. He remembered when some of them thanked him. He remembered when he didn’t tell Jazz but she knew anyway. He remembered when the men in white coats came to his house and his parents argued with them really loudly. He remembered when his parents started spending even more time in the basement. He remembered spending a week at Tucker’s house before his parent noticed he was missing in the third grade. He remembered when his family stargazed together for the last time. He remembered when he grew a taste for exploration. He remembered when he decided he wanted to be an astronaut. He remembered first seeing Sam at recess in fourth grade when her parents let her go to public school, admiring the flowers. He remembered making her a flower crown with all the best colours. He remembered her yelling at him for picking the flowers. He remembered him and Tucker helping her take care of a bent tree In the schoolyard. He remembered Dash destroying it. He remembered catching the chickenpox, and giving it to Jazz. He remembered their parents looking after them even if his dad thought ghosts had made them sick and tried to decontaminate them. He remembered when Paulina stopped talking, to him and asking him to braid her hair, even though it had been in secret, and started calling him names too. He remembered not wanting to hurt anymore. He remembered when the names stopped making him too upset. He remembered when he finally acknowledged his parents weren’t quite normal. He remembered when Jazz got him a toy telescope for his birthday. He remembered that being the second time his parents forgot his birthday. He remembered finding that injured rabbit in the park. He remembered how he, Sam and Tucker had taken turns hiding It while they took care of it. He remembered when Sam’s parents found it. He remembered the first time her parents had said what they thought of him to his face. He remembered not wanting to feel inadequate. He remembered how happy he was when Mickey started asking him for help in physics. He remembered when Jazz stopped pretending that she wasn’t psychoanalyzing him. He remembered when Jazz and his parents got him a real telescope for his birthday. He remembered his first day of high school being memorably mundane. He remembered when Mia and Rachel asked to use his telescope. He remembered agreeing to meet them in the park next Friday…

(Danny fixated on something, several things actually, as the events of his life flashed by in a haze of vivid joys and regrets. He tried to place it… he wished he’d done more. More things he’d wanted to do. He wished that he’d succeeded more, that he’d done more to help. He’d always cared about being useful. He’d never wanted people to feel bad, or hurt, or ignored, but… he felt, for all he’d tried, he could have done more. He wanted to do more.)

ｉｔ ｈｕｒｔｓ.

Danny remembered going Into the lab with Sam and Tucker. He remembered going inside the portal. He remembered the switch being on the inside. He remembered…

He couldn’t remember.

He couldn’t remember anything. His mind went blank as one by one his senses switched off, that odd energy, a second brain, still trying to pick at his mind, scavenging memories and something more. What was left of his eyes stopped seeing light, leaving him in a painless dark. Then, He became deaf to the thrum of electricity and the crackle of energy as his now brittle bones shattered away, the desperate yells from something beyond the haze of green and light. Next, his hoarse voice went quiet (had he been screaming?) as his mouth sealed shut, the coppery taste of blood faded as his black, crinkled tongue became numb. He couldn’t smell the burning; he couldn’t breathe. He felt shadows embrace his consciousness, guiding him away from his body once he’d lost feeling in it. The shadows became clearer, a single dominating presence ruling them all, plunging him into a cold pool, emitting surety and gentle reassurance. Everything went dark.

It was like an outstretched hand had taken a hold of his psyche, and he could tell it was going to take him somewhere much better.

Nothing hurt.

oOo

“Honestly honey, you worry too much.” Maddie said, ruffling Jazz’s hair in a way Danny knew she didn’t like. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Good Eyes | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

Ya girl is back for another MOTH WORK writing update, and this time we’re talking about chapter eleven, aka GOOD EYES. Just a reminder before we get started that I do have a Moth Work tab if y’all want to binge all the updates/catch up on ones you missed! Check it out HERE.

This chapter is a bit of a special one, as it’s the final chapter in Lonan’s POV!

If y’all have been following the updates since before August-ish, you would know that before this, I covered mostly Harrison’s emotional turmoil lmao, but spontaneously decided to add another POV because this is my guilty pleasures project and I wanted to! This POV is Lonan’s.

I really struggled toward the end of writing Lonan’s chapters, and I felt this was the POV’s fault. After chapter six, I couldn’t really sink my teeth into his head, and really raced to the finish line to get back to Harrison. In reality, this was actually me not understanding that the disconnect was because I wasn’t embracing the style the book wanted to be. HOWEVER, since finishing his POV (and the entire book << as I am editing this post), I am! sad! I do miss his Lonanisms. 

GOOD EYES is split into four scenes. They go as follows (cw: drug addiction, alcoholism):

Scene A:

After Lonan’s relapse in the previous chapter, good ol’ Eliza takes him to the hospital she works at so he can finally get some professional help.

Lonan is in the waiting room and all is going well! Until a lady he doesn't know accuses him of wearing her son’s guardian angel chain + jacket and OOP the tea is that he is!

The woman who sees him in the waiting room is Harrison’s mother, Suzanna. I’ve planned her since I was 15 and never had a project to put her in so it was WILD to finally write her! She’s an AA leader.

Scene B:

Direct continuation of the last scene, except this time Lonan is shook

He’s heard many stories about Suzanna and the last place he expects her to be is here!

He pulls a Lonan and attempts to yeet away from that situation lol (does not work)

Scene C:

We start with Lonan recounting a story Harrison once told him about a knife. He’s thinking about this because he’s helping Suzanna chop vegetables. They’ve since moved back to Eliza’s apartment.

(CW: blood, accidental injury) Lonan cuts himself accidentally and Suzanna jumps at the opportunity to mother him. Her motherly disposition shakes him (he ain’t expecting this).

(CW: abuse) This scene is where this chapter gets its title. Suzanna compliments Lonan’s eyes (which he believes are his worst feature as they’re the physical factor that most closely resembles his father) and calls them “good eyes”. This is the first time he’s considered his eyes as anything but reminders of his abusive father, and is one of the gentlest things I’ve written ahhhhh. Though Suz isn’t in this book for very long, I do think her presence has a profound effect on Lonan who has never had a healthy parental relationship. (AKA we need more!!)

Scene D:

A pretty short scene!

Our girl Eliza gets home after work, and is lowkey amazed that Lonan has helped cook dinner (me too lmaooo)

Lonan is really feeling his work--he out here setting tables, folding napkins, feeling like he could be a wedding planner. In the middle of his #MasterChefMoment, the doorbell rings

And in dramatic fashion guess who on the other side of the door lool

It’s Harrison hahahaha the chapter ends on a cliffhanger hahaaha I feel 13 again!

I really like this chapter! It has some really interesting character work particularly between Suz and Lonan as we get to see two sides of both that we never really do--vulnerability. I wrote this chapter over the first weekend I moved back to school after break and it was such a lovely experience. A really nice, meditative chapter that I really needed. It was the perfect way to leave Lonan’s head.

Excerpts:

(CW: The next two excerpts deal with betta fish fighting)

This is a description of the betta fish in the waiting room that Lonan watches that is totally not an explicit metaphor for his relationship with Harrison def not I have 100% not used this metaphor in another story called Fishbowl starring the two of them noooo should this book have been called “it’s all a metaphor for fighter fish” maybeeee:

The waiting room is fluorescent and empty, the only movement the irregular swish of fighter fish across a fish tank. He read somewhere it’s never a good idea to keep two together, but in the tank they circle. One is pale and translucent like diluted bone, its silk tail fluttering with each jag through the water. The next is a shift of blueness that opalizes with each peck at the water’s surface. They synchronize before one flits its tail so the other jitters toward the glass. It’s a mistake they’ve been put together—they will only kill each other in time. 

(I’m a real sucker for betta fish as I had many as a child but Meatball was my #1 right hand man [and the reason why I always seem to describe every betta fish as blue] who lived the longest and I miss him to this day I 100% never ever put two males together tho do not do that!!!)

Here’s another I’m including this because my favourite thing Lonan has ever said in response to someone’s *confusion* is “I need to see a doctor” lmao mooooood (tw: some violent imagery here):

“They shouldn’t be in there together,” he says. His head like the impact of a skipping rock. The rings. He raises his hand when she says nothing, and points to the fish. He doesn’t know which one will die, just that one will.

“You’re wearing his things,” she says.

“They’re going to kill each other.”

“The fish?”

The last time he saw him. The rain. The motel. The neon light eating them both slowly. The things Lonan said—purposefully so he could make a clean getaway. Things that made Harrison wince like Lonan had just bitten his wrist and was holding him there to bleed out. 

“I think so.”

Suzanna turns to look at the fish, and then turns back to him. The vacancy in her face is gone—she’s swollen with confusion.

The fire. The dark room. How he knows each ridge of Harrison’s teeth, each metacarpal, each vertebra, each rib, like they’re his own, like they were carved out of the same thing. 

“I need to see a doctor.”  

(^^ also this whole knowing every bone thing was supposed to be romantic but sounds more like necromancyyy hahaaaaaha Lonan’s bone kink EXPOSED)

Here’s another! TW: blood!! Here’s some description of Lonan accidentally cutting his hand + some Lonan x Suzanna relationship development:

(also Suzanna’s story about the first time she cut herself is ACTUALLY just CNF except I left out some of the gruesome details :’)))

“It happens all the time.” He thinks this might be a continuation of a sentence, but he’s missed the first part. By the time she’s telling him about her first time cutting herself in the kitchen—chopping chives in a hurry for a better omelette--she’s touching his hand again, wrapping a paper towel around it to staunch the bleeding.

Lonan glances down at the stain of red eating the white when two fingers tip his chin up, warm and surprisingly callused. “Not there. Look at me.” He only realizes she’s said this because he’s shaking. “So I tell the guy his advertisement is a lie—no accidents in the kitchen, and what happens when I get mine in the mail? An accident.” She continues easily, like she hasn’t been interrupted.

“What?” Something ringing in his ear. He tries to tip it out with his good hand, but nothing comes out. Again, he looks at his finger—she’s switched to a new paper towel. The blood saturates it, and his pupils dilate at the sight of it—something grossly exciting.

“Up here, honey. I’ve heard I have nice eyes.”

Here’s an excerpt that proves Suz is the *biggest* mood! Her dialogue (the vivid bit) is actually direct mirroring of something Harrison says in an earlier memory Lonan recounted (tho I don’t like the writing in that part so :))):

She leans against the sink for a moment and pinches her nose. He hasn’t meant for his eye colour to upset her, but when she recovers, she moves straight past him to the bloody potatoes on the cutting board. Quickly, she removes the unsalvageable ones, dumps the cutting board into the sink. She begins talking about how much rain they’ve gotten, a show she liked downtown. Something about dogs, or doctors—he doesn’t quite hear what she says. He’s distracted looking at her. How she moves, sturdily. Almost too much. The way she picks up where he left off, dicing, chopping, peeling, like she’s been doing it all along.

“I forgot what it felt like to operate.” He doesn’t know if she refers to being a mother or chopping potatoes. Suzanna is pretty like her son. An edge to her that softens as she speaks. Golden hair that glitters like sunrays, even in the fake apartment light. He doesn’t know how it feels to miss a son. How it feels to carry him in your face, like a second skin. “It’s vivid,” she says.

So that’s it for this update! There are a few more to go (tho I may combine a few) so the Moth Work party ain’t over yet! 

For now, I hope y’all enjoyed!

--Rachel