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0asisbliss · 4 months

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Parings: Yan!Feitan x fem!Reader

A/N: This takes place in a zombie AU I also put Feitan words in a little bit of broken English because that’s kind of how it is in the anime. Sorry for any spelling errors.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, and Feitan being his own warning.

Blood. There was blood everywhere not just the undead’s, but the living. Now that the laws of society have been lifted ever since the breakout. Everyone is either killing to live, or living to kill. Either way you wanted no part of it. Even if your boyfriend was apart of some disgraceful acts. Every time he just explains all that with it being “harmless fun with friends”.

His friends weren’t that terrible at least to you. When the virus broke out Feitan urged you to come with him to be safe. Explaining that you two would stay there for the time being together. While you were panicking about everything he was as cool as a fucking cucumber. Calm as ever seeing people get mauled, and bitten. You’ve seen at least a hundred people die in this week.

I mean people were turning into walking dead creatures. And the worst part about it they weren’t even dying they were turning into cannibalistic-man biting monsters. Feitan started dragging you everywhere he went. Going to get supplies? You’re coming with him. Need to find a restroom? Yeah, he’s going.

You witnessed what the phantom troupe can do. Honestly you found it quite horrifying. Your just glad you with them instead of against them. Until the breakout you had no idea Feitan did all of these things. Yes. He was a bit experimental, and a little weird, but these were the things you liked about him. He stuck out, and he was different.

He didn’t give you the same ol’ love story other guys did. He was thrilling and made you do different things. He honestly took you out of your comfort zone. Feitan wasn’t normal and you knew that and that he was strong, but you would’ve never thought he would kill.

The first time you saw him kill was when he slaughtered a man that was trying to hit on you during the time you, him, Nobunaga, and Phinks were looking for resources. You were sure you could’ve handled yourself, but he took it upon himself to ruthlessly kill that man.

You also had your fair amount of encounters with zombie you shot a couple and got away. You thought they were all the same you know the ones in the movies. They were slow, blind, and basically walking corpses, or those were just the ones you encountered.

There were categories when it came to the “zombies”. There were whispers, walkers, and creepers.

Whisperers, are zombies that were once people who could use nen. Now they use all of their nen to lure in the uninfected. Ex: Calling their name, looking like the uninfected, impersonating a loved one, etc. Advantages: Amazing hearing, sight, looks almost humanly, could be mistaken for a survivor, and can use nen.

Walkers, are your typical walking dead zombie they roam around like undead corpses, and any living thing that moves is automatically food. Advantages: None.

Disadvantages: Slow, blind, decaying skin, after a couple of days their skin breaks down, eventually rots.

Creepers, hide in the daylight and come out into the night lurking, and waiting for any survivors, and uninfected to make the wrong move. They pounce on people who come in their sights. Advantages: Good eyesight, hearing, and reflexes.

These were the categories Chrollo set every zombie in from his observations. Each zombie category showed different skills, and abilities. Only the troupe knew about these categories. They were sure people who were smart enough picked up that not every zombie acted the same, but unlike them you were smart you just weren’t outside enough to understand the aspect of every one of them.

It was the new normal that you stuck by feitan at all time. Even when he was with his “friends” you had to warm up to them, but they were nice the more you got to know them. Pakunoda shared her food with you, Shizuku always talked to you not wanting you to feel lonely, and Machi know how clumsy you can be, so she sticks around you just in case you get any cuts.

You and usually keep medical kits, and antibiotics in case anyone needs them. The people around you rarely get hurt if they do you, and Machi are quick to the rescue. Even with all of these people surrounding you, you can’t help but think about if your friends and family and if they are alive.

You can’t count how many times you’ve broken down about it. Every time you confront Feitan about it he always tells you there’s nothing you can do about it.

Even though you want to seem irritated at his response you can’t help but think he’s right. You’d be risking your life going out there to find any of them. You cant fight, and all you have is a gun. Though you do have Feitan, but when you’re with him he likes doing things his way like you when have a certain time to the eat and bathe.

Everything centered around him basically, and how he thinks he can keep you safe. Closet thing you get to seeing other people other than Feitan and his friends are the group of people that circle the block of buildings everyday to look for survivors. Sometimes every time you see them some people are missing from that group.

You wonder what happened to them. Maybe they turned into zombies, or maybe they were killed. Either way you felt bad for them. They were such nice people going out of their way to look for survivors, and giving out food. You wondered why you never saw anyone get anything from them. They seemed pretty generous to you.

Feitan got back inside after looking around the city for resources. Fortunately he came back with a lot of things. Tissues, canned food, wipes, more antibiotics for you to treat people with, and something in a pink bag. Feitan looked at you before walking over to you and staring into your eyes. He handed you the pink bag and walked into another room in the building. You concluded that he was going to talk to other members of the troupe.

You were kind of hesitant to opening the bag, but your curiosity got the better of you. It was a bracelet with the first initial of your name. You looked at the bracelet and put it on your wrist it was a perfect fit.

You smiled at the bracelet. Feitan watched you through the doorframe secretly there was just the slight smile on his lips. He would never admit it, but he wanted you to stay happy even in times like this.

You looked out the window to see that the group of people were still outside.

They were waving up at the window to get your attention. You looked down at them, and wondered what they wanted. You opened the window, and stuck your head out of it.

They held up a sign made out of cardboard stating “We need help finding our team member.” They turned the board around to the other side. “She has red hair a crop top, and blue jeans on. Have you seen her?”

You shook your head. Giving the group a bit of a pitiful look. That’s when Feitan came up from behind you and shut the window.

“What are you doing?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“The people outside lost one of their friends. They had asked me if I saw one of them-.”

“What people? I see no one.”

“Huh? I- they were just out there I swear Fei-.” You stutter trying to prove there were just people outside.

“You are hallucinating. You need sleep.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue with Feitan so you just did what he said. You weren’t hallucinating you knew you saw them you just had to prove it to Feitan.

The next day you decide to get proof that they are out there. They would surely come back. You made it your plan to go out there and meet them, and get a picture with them to show Feitan. You were going to take your gun just in case, and a camera. Just because you wanted to meet them didn’t mean they were good people you still had to be aware of the world you were still currently in.

You would get a couple of photos of them, and meet them. Just to see how they were as people, and maybe you could join their group part time. Maybe even help them look for their lost teammate. Though you had to wait when Feitan left to leave again.

You told yourself that you needed to be back before he did. You saw him mad before, but you could tell he was really serious about you not leaving where he placed you, so you needed to make sure to avoid that scenario.

You waited a couple hours, when Feitan got himself together to leave.

“I’m going now. Don’t look out the window again. I have something to tell you when I get back.”

“What is it?” You asked wanting to know now.

“I said when I get back.”

“What if you don’t come back.” You spat at him.

He only glared at you before leaving. He didn’t know why you were acting so different lately. Maybe you just needed some fresh air?

“I’ll take you somewhere when I get back.” He thought to himself.

You waited till you saw him leave with Phinks to prepare your bag to leave. You had a gun, and couple knives Feitan gifted you, your camera, and bullets. You waited till you saw them again and rushed outside to meet them. They were walking in front you, you just needed to get their attention.

“Uhm hi!”

They all turned in unison and looked at you weirdly. Their eyes seemed dazed, almost like they were confused. They were pale looking you just thought they haven’t eaten in a while. I mean it is hard to find food around here right?

“You guys seem a little hungry yeah? Uh I have a couple of scraps in my buliding I share it with my uh boyfriend so-.”

You were cut off by one of the members loud groaning. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise. You stood there confused on why you felt afraid, and why they were acting like this.

Feitan was raiding abandoned buildings nearby with Phinks. Phinks was looking out the window while Feitan was in the back ripping some dudes teeth out.

He spotted you frozen in place standing behind whisperers.

“Oh shit. Feitan I think there’s a problem.”

“What?” Again there was a hint of annoyance in Feitan voice due to Phinks distracting him from torturing his poor victim.

Feitan walked over to Phinksand looked out the window. His eyes widened in shock. He ran out the building trying to get to you as fast as he could.

Back with you, you smelled the familiar smell of a rotting corpse though you didn’t see any dead bodies around. You looked back up at the group of people one last time. These weren’t people.

You turned around to run away. In the midst of running you pulled out your gun to turn around and shoot the zombies. You fired three bullets at the zombies. The bullets stopped in mid air and paralleled back to you.

“But how? These aren’t people who can use nen?” You thought to yourself.

Your eyes widened in fear. Just as you were about to meet your fate Feitan pulled out his concealed sword, and adverted the bullets killing off three of the zombies. Although there was one left.

“I’ve got this one.” Phinks was eager to see what the whisper had in store for him.

Feitan didn’t hesitate to grab you and bring you back to your place of residence. Once you two got there you didn’t say anything, and turned around to leave. Feitan stopped you right in your tracks.

“What the hell were you doing?”

You got teary eyed and looked away.

“I wanted to show you that the people I was talking to yesterday were real, so I went out to get a photo with them. I just wanted to show you that I wasn’t some crazy person.”

You stumbled on your words and began to choke on your sobs. Feitan just stared at you he wasn’t big on physical affection nor did he really understand it, but he could understand when some needed a hug. Feitan went up to you from behind and embraced you. It was short, but it was something nonetheless. You didn’t want his warmth to leave, so you grab his hand bring him back close to you. You started to mumble little sorry’s here and there.

You two stood there for a little while before he took you to your shared bedroom. You won’t be going out for a while after this.

#hxh x reader #yandere feitan x reader #feitan x reader #hxh feitan #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #apocalypse #apocalypse au #hxh x you #hxh x y/n #hxh x oc

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starlitiris · 3 months

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making the phantom troupe ✨ neurodivergent ✨

before getting into this I wanna say that i'm not including Kalluto, Hisoka or Illumi in this and I didn't add Kortopi, Bonolenov or Franklin cause I didn't know what to do for them </3

and! a handful of these neurdivergencies are things I also have, but if any of you have something mentioned here and you feel like I misrepresented the condition/got something wrong, please let me know and correct me!

i'd also love to hear what your guys' neurodivergent/disorder headcanons are for the phantom troupe PLEASE do not be shy

okay enough yapping, here are the headcanons

Nobunaga

ADHD out the ass

Bro can and will zero in on something aggressively and not realize how much time has passed till his stomach growls or someone else gets his attention

Almost ALWAYS forgets what he walked into a room for and sometimes won’t be able to remember for hours

He zones out a lot when Troupe members are trying to explain something to him that he has zero interest in

CHRONIC LEG BOUNCER

And foot tapper

He also does little bouncies when he’s standing around

Please don’t ever give him a pen that clicks

He’ll click it nonstop and won’t even realize he’s doing it until someone brings attention to it

He for sure has his moments where he's feeling extra irritable or anxious for seemingly no reason

Feitan

AUTISM OUT THE ASS

No, I’m not headcanoning this because he’s apathetic

Miss me w that shit

He’s just an apathetic person because of everything he’s been through

Not great at masking but he does mask

HATES being touched do NOT TOUCH HIM ew

Exclusively wears long sleeves. Cannot stand short sleeved shirts, he hates the way it feels on his arms

Misses a lot of emotional social cues and his apathetic nature certainly doesn’t help with that but it’s not like he cares much

The Troupe is used to him being like this so they aren’t too bothered

Thinks he looks fucking stupid when he stims so he tries not to unless he’s completely alone

He will let loose a LIIITTLE when he’s alone with just Phinks though since those two are pretty close but he still tries to make his stimming as non-obvious as possible

It also helps for him to stim with his hands in his pockets

He often taps his thumb and index finger together or rubs his knuckles

REALLY hates feeling cold and can't stand the sticky feeling of dried blood on his skin

Despite this, he rarely wears gloves when he's "working" simply because he no no wanna

Phinks HAS called him out on this. A few times.

Machi

Dyslexic

Hates it

So much

Seriously doesn’t understand why she can’t just fucking READ and SPELL as easily as everyone else

Like she KNOWS how to read and spell so like???? WHY does she even struggle with it it should be such an easy thing to do

That’s how she thinks

She gets embarrassed when people catch her struggling to read or spell something

It makes her feel dumb and she hates it :[

Thank god for ai assistants like siri and shit

She definitely uses them to ask how to spell things when no one else is around and she can’t remember

Gets kinda pissed at herself when she realizes way too late that she made a typo on something

Phinks

Prosopagnosia (face blindness) and aphantasia (when you can’t form mental images in your head)

Thought his aphantasia was completely normal for THE LONGEST time

He almost didn’t believe it when other Troupe members were telling him that they could clearly form mental images in their heads

It was a huge “what the fuck” moment for him

The amount of times he’s heard the phrase “you don’t remember me?” just cause he couldn’t recognize someone by their face alone

Of course he’s still able to recognize people from their voices, clothes, hair, body shapes, etc

But when it comes to people he doesn’t see often, he’s completely lost until he’s told the person’s name and where they met and shit

He’s offended quite a few people by not recognizing them

They assume he couldn’t be bothered to remember them but in reality he probably would if he could remember faces

Shalnark

He has bipolar 1

His mania doesn’t get too crazy but it’s noticeable for the Troupe and any other people that he spends a lot of time with

His highs tend to be more intense than his lows but he definitely still has his lows

And the lows are also noticeable

He gets bags under his eyes from having a difficult time falling asleep and STAYING asleep, and he has a very clear decrease in energy

Sometimes Troupe members feel the need to ask him if he’s feeling alright but he always answers with “yeah I’m fine!” and moves on

The amount of shit he's bought on impulse though

He's good at managing his finances until he's manic and sees something he wants

Bro won't look at price tags

"Ehh I'm sure it'll be fine!" two days later he's in the red and goes complaining to Troupe members about it as if he shouldn't have expected that

It's probably a good thing that his role in the Troupe is more centered around gathering information and not combat

I know damn well he'd get too cocky in a fight depending on wtf his brain chemistry is doing

Shizuku

Do i even need to say it

Bitch (respectfully) is autistic as hell

With some good ol’ ADD sprinkled in there

Her attention span suffers greatly

She can pick up a book or a manga and not put it down to eat, sleep, or go to the bathroom until she finishes it or is forced to put it down

She knows it’s a problem and she really does try to remember to take breaks

Very blunt as we all know

Feitan will struggle to pick up on sarcasm SOMETIMES and uses sarcasm himself

This is not the same for Shizuku

Sarcasm does not register in her brain

She tried using sarcasm once and didn’t do it right so she gave up

She does try to mask a little bit in some situations but mostly doesn’t care enough to

Doesn’t mind stimming in front of people as much as Feitan does but she still does it a lot more in private

Pakunoda

Bipolar 2

Her depressive episodes feel longer than they are

She’s gotten a lot better at managing it as she’s gotten older though

She likes to journal her feelings when she can, it personally helps her process and deal with her emotions

She also writes reminders for herself and sets alarms so she doesn’t forget to take care of herself when she’s not feeling too well

Makes sure to praise herself for small victories! :)

She still has her days where she can’t bring herself to do some things, though days like those are less common now than they used to be

Her appetite definitely suffers because her depression, but the reminders and alarms she sets help her remember to eat, even if it has to be something small

She makes sure to get some self care in when she can, too. It's important to her

Uvogin

I hereby bestow thee with dyscalculia and OCD

Being anal about doing things at specific times is only a tiny sliver of his OCD-ness

Sometimes he’ll read the time on a clock wrong and he’ll panic for like 0.2 seconds

It fuckin stresses him out man

Sometimes he’ll tease Machi for having a hard time reading or forgetting how to spell/write a word and she’ll hit him with the “ok what’s 12 x 12 🧍”

Shuts him up real quick

He can count, add, subtract, multiply and divide but it still takes him a minute sometimes

He’ll just give up if he has to do math with fractions, decimals, numbers longer than three digits and any other complicated bullshit

He kinda gave up learning math when it started to literally give him headaches trying to figure it out so simple division and multiplication is as far as he cared to learn

If he’s faced with any math equation that intimidates him he will not even try

He just uses his phone or asks someone else to solve it for him

Okay back on the topic of OCD

He definitely has his repetitive movements that he does

They aren’t too obvious but the rest of the Troupe does notice them from time to time

Nobunaga said something about it one time and Uvo just brushed it off and changed the subject

He doesn’t like bringing attention to it

He also WILL recount and reread things multiple times

Most of the time he’ll only need to recount/reread something like 3-5 times but on bad days he’ll do it 10+ times

It is stressful

Phinks saw him recounting something like 13 times once and was like “bro u good?” and Uvo just snapped at him for fucking up his count

Chrollo

Autism and major depressive disorder

Masking KING (this is not a good thing)

Very touch avoidant like Feitan

He knows he struggles with some social cues and interactions and will sometimes overthink what he’s doing to avoid missing things or doing things wrong

He’s often hyper aware of what he’s doing and what the person he’s talking to is doing

One of his most common ways to stim is by rubbing things - like the corners of pages in his books, or the ends of his sleeves

Loathes being in loud areas. Please why is everyone talking so loud shut the fuck up Chrollo can’t hear himself think

There’s been times where he had to be in loud and bustling places for extended periods of time and once he was alone and in a quiet place he’d feel so so very drained and be nonverbal for hours

Really bad insomnia probably related to his MDD

Lays in bed for HOURSSSS unable to fall asleep

The amount of times he’s had to run on 2-3 hours of sleep is unreal

Listening to calm music and whale noises seems to help him fall asleep a little bit though

Don’t get me wrong he has good days, he’s not completely miserable, but MAN is this guy depressed

On bad days he’ll likely only have one meal or not eat at all

Phantom Troupe be damned if they notice he hasn’t eaten all day

Chrollo will insist he’s fine but some Troupe members aren’t having it

Sometimes someone like Paku or Shal will just go out and get him some food and place it in front of or next to him expectantly

Usually he’ll give up and eat the food

Unless he’s in a bad mood

I will say though, most days he eats at least two meals so it’s not like this is a super common occurrence

#hunter x hunter #hxh headcanons #nobunaga hazama #feitan portor #machi #phinks #shalnark #pakunoda #uvogin #chrollo lucilfer #hxh shizuku

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thaisibir · 8 months

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Phantom Thieves react to getting anesthesia: headcanons from a real anesthetist

Ren: wakes up unusually chatty, thinks the recovery room nurse is Sae in the interrogation room, talks about all the stuff he has to do to increase his social stats

Ryuji: won't shut up about being a Phantom Thief and rats out his friends as Phantom Thieves (fortunately none of the OR staff believe him because they chalk it up to post-op delirium)

Ann: confesses her undying love to the recovery room nurse taking care of her (which destroys Morgana)

Yusuke: wakes up reciting a very long list of all the hospital food he wants to eat, ends up not eating for a while due to having the terrible luck of previously undiagnosed post-op nausea and vomiting (PONV sucks, and known history of it in a patient definitely affects the anesthetic plan. A lot of drugs in our disposal have anti-nausea properties: propofol, decadron, zofran being the most common. But a bunch of others can do the exact opposite and cause nausea: opioids, anesthetic gas, etomidate (which I call vomidate) etc. It's a careful balance of what meds to use and which to avoid, and it depends on the patient.)

Makoto: wakes up alternating between yakuza movie quotes and swearing every other word from surgery pain (a bad habit she got from Sae, who swears like a sailor out of work stress when she thinks Makoto can't hear)

Futaba: takes fore-fuckin'-ever to get to sleep, gets slugged with enough medication to knock out a 100 kg 6 foot tall man (redheads are known for needing higher than average anesthetic to go past the threshold of consciousness and awareness. This is actual book knowledge plus my own clinical experience. Futaba would be a real chore to anesthetize.)

Haru: wakes up throwing hands, swinging fists and feet into OR staff, keeps asking for her axe, has to be restrained to the bed until enough sedatives kick in to calm her down (little kids, teenage girls and big healthy guys tend to wake up violently as the anesthetic wears off. The solution and wonder drug for this: precedex.)

Morgana: makes a weepy proposal to Ann, launches into verbal treatises and theories on the psychology of the Metaverse (which just sounds like incoherent meowing and yowling to the vets)

And for the honorary PTs:

Sojiro: the amount of gunk and spit suctioned out of his mouth before removing the airway device is through the roof (suctioning the mouth and throat is super important during emergence of anesthesia, so that stuff doesn't make the vocal cords spaz out and slam shut, which is laryngospasm, an airway emergency. Smokers tend to produce excessive oral secretions, and if they smoke enough, it can even look gray and brown. Lovely huh?)

Sae: has a low heart rate in the 40s that kind of unnerves OR staff, but that's only because she's very athletic (very fit people can have pretty low baseline heart rate, because exercise remodels the heart to optimize blood output for less work/heart rate. Normal heart rate range is 60-100 bpm, but I've seen Ironman type athletes have 30-40 bpm.)

#persona 5 #persona 5 headcanons #ren amamiya #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #morgana persona 5 #yusuke kitagawa #makoto niijima #futaba sakura #haru okumura #sojiro sakura #sae niijima #this was fun. hope you learned a bit of medical stuff today

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mio-nika · 5 months

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Disgusting (comic) AU. Over-arching plot, characters profiles and relationship dynamic breakdown.

Plot:

Mostly based on a modmad "What if Ace Attorney Investigations: Simon Blackquill".

Post Dual Destinies, Phantom spends some time in prison (like a month). And now let's get him out (temporary), so he can sell his employers with comfort. And also pair him with Simon, because they don't hate each other enough. Phantom get's his Bobby mask because artistic continuity, if I change his face we are bordering on Original Character territory.

I'm not smart enough to write actual spy plot, so they are existing in some limbo doing something spy-like. I'm mostly here to inflict the massive amounts of psychological and emotional damage on characters and fans.

Main Protags:

Phantom - after his meltdown in court, getting shot and the conviction his brain got chopped in much finer mush. With his blood, fingerprints and face being recorded he has no way of going back to his classic "run and hide" bullshit. Doesn't like to be out and about. Prefers to be locked up in jail, since he gets solitary and full protection.

Simon - is suffering. Understands the assignment of being paired with the guy who actually knows how to run underground spy business. But still does not like it. AT ALL.

Athena - since I'm not a fan of women centric whump (it's very rarely good and I can count the good examples of it on one hand). I'm using her as a plot device and brain can opener. She's not involved in operation, bc Simon cares about her to much. But sometimes spends time with Phantom as a psychotherapist.

Relationship chemistry:

Everything is very bad. I mean. Except psycho duo, but they are kinda. A well oiled machine.

• Simon <- -> Athena - they are something that I call platonic soulmates. Two people who's lifes are so deeply intertwined, that they can never be apart. They are friends. They are siblings. They are uncle and niece. They would be together from this point to the eternity.

• Athena -> Phantom - she feels disdain towards him, but also pity. I mean:

I truly think that the therapist in her. And the saviour complex would destroy her "he killed my mom". So she kinda goes as "I would help you, but only if you yourself would try to change. Bitch you live like this".

• Phantom -> Athena - fear. I mean. She can read his mind. She can feel that he feels. She is the reason why his life was destroyed. And I'm not only talking about last trial. She made original reading from his bomb threat.

Her abilities to read his mind is probably horrifying to him, since his entire persona based on hiding. But I also think, that he would gravitate to her. She thinks he can change. She's also mentally not normal. She's a therapist. There's a lot of reasons why he can be scared, but also longing for understanding.

• Simon -> Phantom - disgust, babeey! There's probably a lot more, but this bitch does not talk to me. So I'm just observing him from the side.

• Phantom -> Simon - we went so far from good doggie woof woof, that we came back to it.

I'm calling it "fucked up backward loyalty". It's half "I has no reason to make him even more mad, we are trying to work here". And "please please please give me any type of attention". It's the same way as with Athena. Before every human interaction Phantom had for *we don't know how much* time was filtering through his role. Basically "it's my funny friend Bobby", not "it's my funny friend Phantom". So I think he got kinda. Lonely. Not even lonely, more like deep social dissociation. Simon hates him, but he hates HIM, SPECIFICALLY, not Bobby. And the hate is extremely powerful emotion it's almost like love.

Anyway. Local spy got his brain hard rebooted. And mistakenly imprinted on two people who hate him. WHAT CAN GO WRONG

#ace attorney spoilers #ace attorney #athena cykes #mentioned #phantom aa #simon blackquill #sorry for any possible writing mistakes im tired #and this post is so long #disgusting the comic #^ all posts about this comic now tagged by this tag #phantomquill #implied

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yetanothergreyjedi · 3 months

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Left and Returned: Definitely Nothing Wrong

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Part 2

Ao3

Chapter 3

After the angel heckling, Danny stuck around for the initial explanations. But as the explanations moved from recounting the events into... theological debate... yeah, Danny bailed on that. Look after winning fistfights with a certain amount of beings who claim to be gods, it's hard to be reasonable about that stuff. Danny's opinions on the afterlife are not super helpful to people who aren't living in ectoplasm rich environments.

For now he has a job to do. His ghost sense goes off before he opens the door. So he's not surprised to find the electronics are as fried as you'd expect after a being with the power to cause electrical surges spent a few months running around in it. At least his carbon monoxide detector stays silent.

Little fun fact: carbon monoxide makes spirits restless. Restless spirits cause electrical surges. Continued electrical surges, cause long term electrical fires. If you have the first problem, getting the other two problems becomes a lot more likely.

Less fun fact: Danny has never met a hunter who knows this.

How many hunters have died of carbon monoxide poisoning while they huddled in a salt circle to avoid the angry dead? How many HVAC guys have gotten possessed or murdered? How many people get lucky enough to have both problems sorted only to have something start on fire?

It's a whole thing. Yes, he gives this rant to every hunter he encounters. Hopefully, it sticks with at least some of them. Sam had said he'd do it. Bobby had pulled them over at the nearest hardware store and bought three detectors.

At least he knows it sunk in for someone.

But here the air is clean and normal and smells a little like ectoplasm. He's able to talk down the ghost without the thermos, but she has an electrical core, and he can't replace this much wiring in the time he has. He shows the owner, shuts down the power to the rooms that absolutely will start a fire and gives her some reputable local contacts. It's not ideal, it rarely is. But both the house's owner and the ghost know what they need to do to keep surviving and that's better than things were this morning.

He wishes it felt like victory.

He eats, takes a nap in the back of his van, and when he wakes up he's missed a dozen calls.

Someone is killing hunters. Of course there is.

He forwards the message to Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, and Wes, in case he's gotten mixed up in something new. They all check in. They all mention ghosts behaving... oddly. They agree they have it handled. Jazz asks about Sam.

Danny calls the Winchesters. They don't pick up.

---

Regret coils as Dean realizes who's ghost stands before him. He understands exactly why so many friends fell to this, stepping out of reach as she swings at his face. It's hard to do, she has every right to hit him, it's his fault she's dead.

That is why she is here. She's here to get her revenge, and he doesn't even know if the name he knows is her real one.

"It's okay, I'm not a demon."

"You're the girl the demon possessed."

"Meg Masters. Nice to finally talk to you when I'm not, you know, choking on my own blood. It's okay. Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry — was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner... Now, I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, yeah? So sorry you had me thrown off a building?"

"Well, we thought— "

She shoves him, not with the strength of a girl puppeted by a demon, not with the strength of a ghost. She shoves him with the strength of a young woman who never lifts more than her college books. That's why he stumbles to the ground. "No, you didn't think! I kept waiting, praying! I was trapped in there screaming at you! 'Just help me, please!' You're supposed to help people, Dean. Why didn't you help me? "

"I'm sorry. "

"Stop saying you're sorry!" She approaches quick, ready to kick him. He's going to let her too, but the blow doesn't come.

She screams in fury as she's lifted by her waist. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be ridden for months by pure evil?! While your family has no idea what happened to you?!"

Danny holds her arms, stopping her from continuing her assault.

Meg continues, "It wasn't just me, I had a sister. A little sister. You know how little siblings are, right? How they depend on you. She was never the Same after I disappeared. She just... she just got lost. And when my body was lying in the morgue beat-up and broken..."

She stops struggling, going limp as she tries to continue.

"Say what you need to say, we're listening." Danny tells her.

"She killed herself, she needed me and I wasn't there." Tears pool in her eyes. "All he was thinking about was his family, his revenge, his demons! 50 words of Latin a little sooner, and I—

She chokes on her sobs, "and I'd still be alive. My baby sister might still be alive."

Kid holds her up as she crys. Wet, gross, snotty crying, not like the pretty tears on TV. Kid whispers comforting things and lets her shout accusing things at Dean until she cries herself out.

"Do you remember your door?" He asks her when her breathing's evened.

"Yeah... it's blue, has some stickers..." she murmurs. And Danny gestures to the door across from them, which does not match Bobby's decor.

"Go home, Meg. Go rest." She reaches for the handle ugly brand on her hand turning green and vanishing as she turns it. As the door closes behind her, it's Bobby's door again.

"Dean!" Sam's voice echos from downstairs.

"Here!" Dean responds, grabbing the kid and pulling him after him as he goes to find his brother. "The symbol on her hand, you recognized it?"

"They have no right." Danny snarls.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes."

"What symbol?" Bobby asks, and he looks pretty okay for a guy who went missing when all the other people who went missing had their hearts ripped out. Sam scrambles to draw it for him.

The kid starts to pace the room. "They were at peace . This didn't call the restless dead, it woke the sleeping. They had. No. Right."

"The mark of the witness? " Bobby asks, "I'd have to double check."

"That's a name for it." The kid really sounds completely different when he's this mad.

"Follow me."

---

"...coated in salt, 100% ghost proof."

Dean watches the kid stumble across the threshold. He'd miss it if he wasn't looking for it. Yesterday, Danny had been wearing his pain on his face for all to see, it made it easier to look past it now. But Dean had seen his dad wear that expression, seen it on his brother, hell, he'd worn it himself a thousand times— Danny was in pain, but determined to push past it. He'd been fine a minute ago. Bobby's bunker was hurting him.

And Dean didn't say a word about it.

Kid had grabbed a ghost, picked her up and sent her home with nothing but himself and some words. Dean didn't know of anything that could do that. He did know that there was a chance Danny had saved him from getting his heart ripped out. Dean probably would've thought of something, but still. He wasn’t gonna kick the kid while he was down, definitely not while he was as determined to stop this as they were.

For what it's worth, he has no issue prepping rock salt for the shotguns as Bobby pages through the book, the silence is enough time for Dean's mind to wander back to earlier.

"See this is why I can't get behind God." Dean tells them.

Sam sighs.

"Still debating theology?" Danny asks.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason — just random, horrible, evil — I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?"

"This is really bothering you."

"It's not bothering you?"

"What I asked Castiel, it was a genuine question."

"What?" Sam asked, they hadn't relayed the amount of angel-poking they'd done.

"He said he was an angel of the Lord. I asked which lord."

"I mean, if he's an angel then he meant God." Sam pointed out.

Danny shrugged. "You've fought gods before. You've told me."

"Pagan gods, Not God."

"I fought a Stormbringer once. When it angered it formed a lightning storm over half the continent. One minute there were clear skies, the next hail like golf balls, tornadoes, floods."

"That freak storm?! That was years ago, boy, how old were you?"

"Fourteen. That's not the point. The point is, that the people who summoned him called him God's wrath, but he called himself Vortex, among other things..." Danny quiets, lost in the memory for a moment. Then he starts back in on the salt rounds, packing them with increased efficiency.

"It was barely an effort for him to bring the country to its knees, and it wasn’t a human who defeated him, when it came down to it." Dean notes the careful phrasing. "I've seen a lot of weird. I think that if Castiel's Lord is the god you're worried about, then he's probably worried about the things strong enough to fight him."

"Danny," Sam says, "that makes this whole thing a lot less reassuring."

"Yeah, that's freaking terrifying, kid."

Danny fits the last of his salt rounds into a bandolier and drops it on the table with a clatter. He grins. "I can make it worse if you want?"

"Let's not, for now. You're right about the mark." Bobby announces. "They witnessed the unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts— they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone Rose them... on purpose."

"Who?" Sam asks.

"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans—"

"Is there a way to find out?" Danny asked, the murder back in his eyes. They weren't turning colors this time though, they stayed normal human blue.

"Not that I have here, and we have bigger problems. It's called "the rising of the witnesses." It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, wait. What kind of prophecy?

"Revelations kind. This is a sign, boys."

"A sign of what?"

"The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a -- a mile marker."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam asks.

"Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience—"

"Can we focus?! We find a way to send them to the keeper of tales so they're story will be heard and they can be appeased."

"Well, I don't know about all of that... but I've got a spell it just says it will put them back to rest... if I've translate—"

Danny is out of his seat and looking over the book before Bobby could finish.

"—ed it correctly..." he pushes the book so the kid can get a better look.

Dean raises his eyebrows at Bobby, but he's too busy watching the kid to acknowledge.

"This is really old." Danny mutters, "Some names are out of date, but it mentions the roll they fill in the spell so it should work."

"Names out of date... you know better ones, for... the ancient spell?"Dean asks.

He didn't expect the kid to say, "yeah," and pick up a pen.

"Subject matter expert does the spell," Bobby offers, okay. So, Dean missed something, since when does Bobby hand off this stuff? Since when is Danny the 'subject matter expert?'

"I can... or... look, once we start, all the witnesses who haven't been appeased are going to be compelled to stop us. I can add a clause at the beginning, draw them off while you finish the spell."

"I don't know..."

"I'll go with you." Sam volunteers.

"Are we sure we should split up?" Dean asks.

"You'll have a better chance to complete it if you aren't being swarmed by angry ghosts." Sam points out.

"Maybe we should be the bait," Dean suggested, "Both of you know the spell and can troubleshoot if there's problems, Sam and I can't help that."

"Do you know your true names?"

"What?"

"Do you know the name that encompasses all that you are? And can you write it in a way that covers it but prevents it from being stolen."

Dean turns to stare at him, he doesn't look up from the book.

"If you can, then sure, if not, then we really shouldn't make those bargains and we don't have time for that."

"Is this related to how you're older than you are?" Dean asks, because he was starting to think Danny hadn't actually been delirious after the seance.

"Yeah."

"You gonna explain that?" Bobby asks.

"There was a summer that didn't happen, and some time travel."

"Time travel." Dean repeated.

"Oh, yeah, I think I'm older than I am too..." Sam realizes.

"That doesn't—"

"Remember the timeloop, Dean? I know you don't remember the six months after the timeloop in the timeline where the Trickster refused to let you live."

"What?!"

"I'm done modifying the spell." Danny said firmly postponing a conversation Dean will be having with his brother.

---

Once the fire is started, Bobby burns the paper with Danny's sigils and begins the spell. Dean follows orders, he gathers materials from the near-empty house. Nothing bothers him. He doesn't need the shotgun or the iron fire poker. The spell takes three minutes.

It's another five before Sam and his friend return. They're battered and dirty, but they're alive and they have no serious injuries.

Bobby makes dinner.

They try to help but get kicked out of the kitchen after all the chopping is done.

Sam doesn't tell him about whatever he saw. Dean wonders if he knows what's up with Danny and just won't tell him.

Dinner is hearty and they dont talk because they're too busy eating.

It's been a long day. Yesterday was long too.

Questions can wait till after they sleep, and Dean really wants to sleep.

It's a shame the angel doesn't want him too.

#Danny phantom x supernatural crossover #danny phantom #supernatural #crossover #fanfic

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poltergeist-coffee · 11 months

Note

So apparently blue team and green team And red team is just chilling Lore aside, silly thoughts- CELLBIT AND RANBOO PLAYING TOGETHER??? WHAT??? THE CROSSOVER IS REAL Cellbit's chat is having a gay panic over... Sneeg I think? They are are shy but they are asking if he is single Slime is there too:D Anyway, SILLY THOUGHTS Heyyyy, you know the vampire pac headcanon(it still very much not paying rent) do you think qpac would actively try to hide it or nobody would think much about any strange, because let's face the reality everybody in that island is at least a bit strange, and nobody would ask him and never got the opportunity to talk about it Because, what are you supposed to do? Just say "oh yeah, I'm a vampire" out of nowhere Qmike would know of course, I think the rest of the favela six + Richas probably would figure it out at some point

At first view, qpac is just a normal guy, I mean, look at the other islanders, there demons, avians and other hybrids Oh yeah, and a cucumber

His fangs are a bit sharp BUT some humans are just like that, right? I mean, look at qforever it's not only his fangs that are sharp(yep, putting werewolf forever here, why not?) Blood on his fridge? That could be used to anything, blood transfusion, rituals perhaps, and if there was a glass with a little blood on the sink.. I mean it's not so bad considering qcellbit's past with cannibalism and that's doesn't mean qpac drank it And he's out during the say, yeah, he aways with his hoodie up and all covered in clothes but that's just a choice!

... I want to say that I take no responsibility for my actions because of that headcanons, I've stole them from you and Devil anon, I'm a child that has been given a fire sword and no instructions Update on the stream, Cellbit's high pitched screams are aways funny to hear

And the phantom cellbit headcanon still a very cool idea to me and I don't what to do with it:D

-Plate anon(<- started playing hollow knight so they might lose their head over it too... on a more literal sense)

OMGGG PLATE ANON IF YOURE PLAYING HOLLOW KNIGHTS WE COULD MAKE A HOLLOW KNIGHTS U TOGETHER…. OMG…

omg that’s so cute iamindihs i’m watching the stream rn from slime’s pov!! i didn’t know chat was in love with sneeg’s voice that’s so cute haha <33

i think no one woudl guess that q!pac is a vampire at first because he looks like so normal kekw he (use to) get a decent amount of sleep and he doesn’t really “dress” like a vampire (very fancy clothes u know) so people just think he’s a normal human or maybe an elf because he has pointed ears!! so what his teeth seem a little shaper then most? he was just born like that it’s rude to ask :// it’s not his fault he can’t stay in the sun long it’s because he gets sunburnt super easily!! not even sunscreen can help so he has to stay in the shade or inside a building!!

we love vampire pac in this household especially if he gets to turn into a cute bat and hang upside down to sleep (captures mike to cuddle him to sleep most nights hehehe)

phantom cellbit is so wonderful and i don’t have many thoughts abiut him but he’s like….. so cool….. he is so creature…. the goofiest creature ever you know…

#✉️ asks or whatever #🍽️ anon #hello plate anon :DD i missed you!!!#i’m no good at hollow knights TT but i love the art and lore (knows very little of it)#i love little creature!! they’re just cute bugs!! i love them!!!

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going-dead · 3 years

Text

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears

Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l

Team Human: @currentlylurking

Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.

Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.

“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.

One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.

Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.

All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.

After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.

The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”

“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.

Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.

Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.

Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.

David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”

“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.

“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.

Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.

1: Phantom at some point had died

2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.

3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.

As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?

Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.

Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.

“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”

Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.

“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”

Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”

As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”

David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.

Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”

David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”

“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”

“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.

Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”

“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.” Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”

“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”

“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.

“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”

Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.

#Danny phantom #phic phight 21 #Phic Phight #dead writes #My fic

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt: Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately. There was something in the atmosphere, almost. It felt… lighter, maybe?

He didn’t like it.

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion. The tendency had saved his life multiple times. Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost. Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with. Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him. Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often. Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha. He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one. Skipped school and everything. The whole high school experience. Ha.

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.

He sighed, heavily. Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding). Stock up on supplies. Get ready to weather a storm. Literal or metaphorical.

But hiding out in the cave was so boring. There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah. Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah. Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts. It was pretty empty around here.

Just like Flynn’s heart.

Ha.

Yeah. That was a good one.

Eh. Life wasn’t so bad. He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time. Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof. Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity. And not having a concussion. Or losing any more teeth.

But, back to his original topic.

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe. Was it directly Flynn’s problem? No. The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.

Flynn recognized that. Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom. But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger. Who knew what could come out of a portal? At least according to the ghosts he talked to. Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.

This was going to suck so much.

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary. Which he had read. Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck. He could take one ghost. Three? Yeah. Not a chance.

Maybe they’d leave? They couldn’t know for sure he was here. With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again. He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either. No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait. They weren’t. Flynn would know. He’d made many unbelievable jokes. They’d never attracted anything but groans.

Ha.

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost. “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.

“We don’t have any choice about her, though. Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out. Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn. Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him. The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago. At least a decade.

But he did scream. Loudly. Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all. He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages. “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.” He examined his fingernails. “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate. Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.” He eyed the eyeballs.

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork. “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn. He adjusted his grip on his staff. “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face. “No. Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby. Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork. He raised an eyebrow. “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip. Hard. Okay. He wasn’t dreaming. And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway? Flynn was nothing. He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands. “Then let us away to the castle.”

Well. That was certainly a castle. Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house. Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.

Or even hole, when compared to all this. Dear god, this place was fancy.

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin. You are not underdressed.

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings. “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost. “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one. I will collect you for dinner in three hours. Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.

… There would be curtains, right? This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.

He opened the door.

Lots of curtains. Lovely.

No, really. It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains. He might be crying.

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft. He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy. Filthy. Covered in years’ worth of grime. He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath. He was craving a human-safe bath. With clean water and soap.

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Unrestrained luxury.

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter. The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.

There was a sink.

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water. Because he made it so, so dirty. He sank into the water, up to his chin.

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause. Because it was always a lost cause. Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available. He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one. Were there ghost dentists? There had to be ghost dentists. They had a lot of teeth. A lot of teeth. Sharp, scary, teeth.

Ugh. His baby cousin was a ghost. He’d probably have teeth like a shark. When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all. Because. Baby. Little, tiny, baby.

Who Flynn barely knew.

Why did he even want Flynn? Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?

Ghosts were weird. Anything could be possible.

He flopped face-first onto the bed. His bed? His temporary and maybe permanent bed. If he was allowed to stay here.

Oh, gosh. Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals. Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.

(Dad? Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed. But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now. He was living in the scariest place out of the world.

Ha.

Yeah.

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe. Oh, boy. Many clothes. He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store. Incredible.

They were so fancy, too. He didn’t know how to choose.

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed. Some of them looked cool. And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet. Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear. Wow. It had been a while.

Okay. The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice. Like, no nap nice.

He wanted to take a nap.

But no nap was occurring.

The bed was too soft. Ugh. This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.

He groaned. He hadn’t thought that was real. He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama. Or something.

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.

Maybe he could sleep here.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover. What cover? Oh. Bed. That was the bed. He was in the room. In the castle. The ghost king’s castle.

His baby cousin’s castle.

He was going to cry. This was so weird.

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand. Which. Might not have been the best of ideas. But, hey, he was dressed now.

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle. Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there. One of his eyebrows went up. “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down. Orange and green went fine together. What was he talking about?

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.

“Come, now. Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back. At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.

He decided not to do that. Running away wasn’t his style.

(Who was he kidding? That was definitely his style. He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing. Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled. “Only the future.” He swung the large, gilded door open.

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates. There were a small group of children beyond it. One of them waved at him. Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #flynn walker #clockwork

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animeyanderelover · 4 years

Text

I kind of neglected Hunter x Hunter in here so here are Hc’s for them. After I’m finished with this I’ll immediately start working on my request, but I needed to write this first! Enjoy!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, paranoia, delusions, manipulation, kidnapping, overprotectiveness, clinginess, death, sadism, masochism, controlling Yandere, violence

Yandere Hunter Exam Hc’s

Gon Freecss

🎣I can imagine him as the clingy and lovestruck Yandere. Gon loves nothing more than spending time with his darling and would give up on nothing for this. He loves the s/o with his every being and in his eyes they’re the most prettiest person that has ever existed in this universe and he makes sure to always tell them this.

🎣Also the obsessive type. He wants to know everything about them and every time he thinks he has found out everything that is there possibly to learn about his darling he discovers something new. There’s so much to learn about them and he won’t stop until he knows it all! He can also be put in the category delusional since he likes to think that between the two of you everything is fine.

🎣Gon gets easily jealous, but it’s the harmless kind of jealousy. He starts to pout and stares holes into the person who made him jealous and it’ll be one of the cutest things you’ll ever see. He’ll tell the person surprisingly friendly to go away, but his aura will be only a bit too sinister.

🎣It takes a lot until this guy kills someone. They would have to do something really bad for example nearly killing the s/o. Then Gon loses it and the little sunshine will turn into your worst nightmare. The thing is that he can’t even clearly remember what he did afterwards only remembering pure rage pumping through every inch of his body. Whoever person he killed won’t be able to be recognized, that’s how bad he beat them up.

🎣Most of the times he clinges onto his darling’s side and most of the time he’s satisfied with that. Something extreme would have to happen for this boy to want to kidnap you. A few examples are when the s/o was nearly killed or when he confessed and they rejected him. But if this doesn’t happen then you’re free to wander around.

🎣Overall Gon is an innocent bean who just wants to make you happy, but don’t get too comfy with him because if you witness what happens when he gets into his killer mode you won’t be able to sleep for the next few days. Luckily he kills rarely and ensures that you won’t notice.

Killua Zoldyck Zoldyck

🪀Killua is a Zoldyck and in my opinion all Zoldyck’s are possessive. No exception for him. Also the overprotective one, especially when his s/o gets anywhere near his family he makes sure to always be alert, he can’t trust his family with the darling. On the delusional side as well, he thinks everything he does for the darling is justified through the large amount of love he holds for them. Sometimes even the manipulative type, but he only uses this when he’s with no other option left. He hates to manipulate his s/o.

🪀Also the lovestruck and touchy one. He sees in his darling everything he’s ever looked for and since he’s never got much physical affection when he was younger he’s very touchstarved for his darling. He loves cuddles! Give him lots of cuddles!!

🪀Killua will never tell when he’s jealous and his darling probably won’t even notice, but the other person will. The look he’s giving them is enough to make even the toughest guys pee into their pants.

🪀Most of the times his killer look and the sinister aura that’s surrounding him is enough to keep every person who could possibly be a threat for his darling away, but if that doesn’t work he has no problem with killing this obstacle. And believe me, no one wants this guy after them!

🪀He never really liked the thought of kidnapping his darling and would only do it in a few cases where the darling likes someone else than him or when they suddenly try to break of their contact with him and he can’t convince them otherwise. That’s when Killua would get desperate and decides to take the s/o with him.

🪀In my opinion Killua is, even though he’s sometimes quite the Tsundere, a more harmless Yandere. After he kidnaps you he makes sure to spoil you with everything a human could ever ask for and would never even lay a finger on you. He could never forgive himself if he would hurt the only good thing ( besides Gon of course ) that he has in his life. Expect to his guy to be your personal cuddle bear. The only problem are his delusions that his actions aren’t wrong.

Kurapika Kurta

⛓Congratulations for getting one of the scariest ones from the list. Kurapika is the possessive, overprotective and aware one. The moment he realized he’s in love with you was the moment he became paranoid. What if something happens to the s/o when he isn’t there? What if the Phantom Troupe attacks them? He realizes that his feelings aren’t anywhere near normal, but he just can’t help it. That leads him to quickly becoming possessive and overprotective over them. He doesn’t let them do anything alone, too scared that they might hurt themself.

⛓Also the obsessive, manipulative and desperate one. He wants to know everything about them, wants to know their interests and wants, wanting to be as perfect as he can for them. Whenever the darling gets annoyed with his overprotectiveness he’s talking them slyly into thinking that he’s just making sure that nothing bad happens to them. Who knows what might happen the next moment. His darling’s safety is his first priority, but he does yearn for their love and affection, wanting to be loved by them.

⛓Kurapika doesn’t trust anyone with the darling. What if they want to hurt them? What if they want to take the s/o away from him? Whenever someone even looks wrongly at the s/o the next moment Kurapika is already towering over this person with his eyes glowing scarily. Jealousy isn’t even the right word to describe this. It’s pure paranoia!

⛓This guy will spill gallons of blood if it means keeping his darling safe. Everyone he sees as a possible threat will be eliminated quickly.

⛓It won’t take long after he discovered his feelings for you. His possessiveness and paranoia are a horrible mix. He kidnaps his darling fastly, dragging them to a place where they’re going to live from now one. Don’t even try to escape, he won’t let that happen and will kill anyone who might know where you ran off!

⛓Kurapika is an intense and scary one, especially if he stares at you with those red eyes of his. You’ll never see other humans again, Kurapika is too scared that they might want to harm you. He does know that his behavior is wrong, but he decided eventually that he doesn’t care. No one can take the only person he loves so much away from him! He’s hesitant about hurting you and will only do it in extreme cases for example when you tried to run away from him. But if his darling would be a survivor from the Kurta Clan this would be an even worse story.

Leorio Paradinight

🧳I can imagine Leorio as the overprotective and lovestruck Yandere. This guy is hopelessly in love with the s/o and would follow them to the ends of the world and this makes him naturally overprotective over his darling.

🧳Also the clingy and touchy one. He won’t even give the s/o space to breathe and loves to have physical contact with them, doesn’t matter to him if it’s more sexual or not, he’s happy with both.

🧳He gets jealous so easily and it will be too obvious. He’ll have a clearly annoyed and angry look on his face and is definitely the type to pull his s/o to his side and glare at the other person whilst throwing a fit.

🧳I don’t think Leorio is the type to kill. It’s more likely that if he finds out that someone hurt his darling he’ll search for this person and starts beating them up whilst yelling at them. In really extreme cases he might also ask Gon, Killua and Kurapika for help to pay the person back who harmed you.

🧳He doesn’t enjoy the thought of kidnapping the s/o, but then again he’s the overprotective Yandere and if something triggered him enough he won’t think twice and lock you up in his house, keeping you until he’s calmed down. That means you’re going to stay there for a while.

🧳He’s one of the more harmless ones. He isn’t really violent with anyone, only if angered enough, and lets you walk around freely, but he makes sure to always stay by your side. The only thing that is a bit annoying is that he can be quite the perv sometimes.

Hisoka Morow

🃏... Oh god... Hisoka is possessive, cruel, a stalker, manipulative and the removal type. He views the s/o more as a toy than a human and the s/o is his favorite toy so he’s very possessive over them. He’s more the type to watch his darling from the distance and this man is talented in lying. He’ll mess with your mind until you don’t know what to think anymore. I can also definitely see him as the removal type, meaning he’ll kill everyone the darling is close to.

🃏Also a sadist, masochist and a touchy one. This guy will hurt his darling when they don’t behave and he certainly takes his pleasure in it. But he also loves it when his darling is hurting him. Every time they do this it gets him excited~ It isn’t a surprise that he is the touchy one, is it? His hands will always be on his darling’s body, touching them in more and less appropriated places ( most times in less appropriated places ).

🃏He has patience with his darling, but that doesn’t count for other people as well. He doesn’t like sharing his favorite toy with anyone and he also has this kind of ‘jealousy’ that he feels when someone hurts the s/o or the s/o hurts someone. That makes him really angry. He’s the only one who’s allowed to hurt them and he’s also the only one they’re allowed to hurt!

🃏The problem here is that Hisoka enjoys killing others way too much so he’s willing to leave a trail of dead bodies behind, taking his time to toy with them before killing them when he gets bored with them.

🃏This guy has as mentioned above a lot of patience with his darling and just watches them for a very long time, but eventually that wasn’t enough for him at some point and so he took them. You can bet that he didn’t miss the chance to play a bit with them before, seeing it as a hide and seek game. Guess who won at the end.

🃏Hisoka is a toxic Yandere to have. He’s so good with messing your mind up and will most likely talk you into thinking that you’re worthless and no one loves you and you should be thankful that he hasn’t killed you yet. Another problem is how perverted he is with you, he won’t stop touching you and if you hit him he gets even more turned on! The same goes for when he hurts you! But I think that all of his behavior comes simply from the fact that he doesn’t know how to act with his feelings. He never was really interested in anyone before, but that changed when he met you and he has no idea how to handle this. Another good thing is that he has a lot of patience with you because he never gets boring with you. If you manage to help him understanding his feelings he might become the tiniest bit better.

Pokkle

🏹Wanted to give it a try with this guy here, I was honestly pretty disappointed when he died. I think he’s the lovestruck and obsessive type. Such a weakling for his darling and obsessed with them in every sense possible. Similar to Kurapika he wants to be as perfect as he can for them. Very clingy, he doesn’t know what the word private space means.

🏹Also the worshipper, delusional and desperate Yandere. He thinks of the s/o as some kind of angel which fell from heaven and treats them like a god/goddess. He’s almost like your personal slave. He’s also pretty dependent on their affection and love they give him. He’s very confident, but at the same time very cautious of his abilities and when the s/o showers him in affection and compliments about his abilities this man will be over the moon.

🏹As mentioned above, he’s very dependent on your attention and love and if you give it to someone else, he’ll feel deeply wounded. There are two ways how he’ll react to this depending on whether he lets his pride or his self insecurity get the best of him. If his pride wins he’ll quickly pull the s/o behind his back and starts yelling at whoever they interacted with. If his insecurity wins he just stands there silently, watching his darling interacting with other people, suffering quietly. But in both cases he’ll be even more needy for your attention and love for the rest of the day.

🏹Pokkle sees his darling as a god/goddess and whoever hurts them will get some kind of punishment. He’ll kill anyone who might mean danger for his darling. Than he’ll either use poisened arrows or his Nen ability rainbow.

🏹Pokkle is as mentioned delusional and can get very paranoid from time to time which leads him to locking the s/o from time to time up in his house. The same goes for when they’re giving someone else too much attention which he desperately needs. At least he only locks you in for one or two days, but it happens way too often.

🏹He can be a real cutie for you, but his constant need for attention, love, affection and his clingyness can be pretty tiring. The fact that he locks you constantly away isn’t all that great either.

Ponzu

🐝Another death which saddened me very much. I think Ponzu is the aware one, meaning she knows how unhealthy her feelings actually are. Also the stalker type, but not her, her bees will watch her darling for her.

🐝Also the obsessive type since her bees are constantly watching the s/o it honestly isn’t hard for her to find out very much of them in a very short time. And she remembers every single detail.

🐝Ponzu is very composed and has a good amount of patience. She won’t get that easily jealous, she can let her darling have fun with other people. But if she thinks it’s enough she’ll send her bees towards the person, letting them attack the other person the s/o was talking to. And believe, it won’t be everyday that you see someone that fastly running away. No one wants to be stung by a bee. And certainly not from a whole swarm of them!

🐝Ponzu is very reasonable and can judge how bad someone’s crime was towards her darling. Most of the time the persons get away with stings littering their whole body, but if someone tries to kill her darling then she sees this as the worst crime possible and then this person will be stinged to death by her bees.

🐝It takes a lot for her to kidnap the s/o and only does it in the worse case scenario where they are nearly getting killed and she couldn’t protect them. Then she makes sure to kidnap her darling. After that escaping is as good as impossible since her bees are always watching.

🐝Since Ponzu is very reasonable with you and has a lot of patience with you it won’t be that bad. If you act up the worst that could happen are one or two stings from her bees. If you’re allergic to them her punishments consist of locking you for the rest of the day up in your room. But if you behave well she’ll even let you out for a few hours.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere gon #yandere gon freecss #yandere killua #yandere killua zoldyck #yandere kurapika #yandere kurapika kurta #yandere leorio #yandere leorio paradinight #yandere hisoka #yandere hisoka morow #yandere pokkle #yandere ponzu

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sidespart · 4 years

Note

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough.

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning.

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman.

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder.

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time)

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back.

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound.

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit.

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff.

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE) from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor.

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling: “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly.

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton.

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc, and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue.

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ.

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

#sanders sides fic #logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #Loceit #Platonic Loceit #janus sanders #SANDERs sides #YEAH THIS ONE ALSO GO AWAY FROM ME #i might write some of these scenes up properly or draw them out #this was fun #fake fic meme #sidespart writes #Anonymous

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phantoms-lair · 3 years

Text

Hero's Spirit Snippet

A red bolt of plasma interrupted the fight and pinned the Hero Killer to the wall. "Izuku Midoriya what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Sorry Valerie," Izuku said weakly, the white ring signifying his return to normal forming along his middle.

"Don't you dare! Your living form actually has organs where those holes are and...you used the Wail didn't you?"

"Sorry," Izuku said weakly.

"You two," Valerie ordered Iida and Todoroki, "Get him out of here. Make sure he doesn't use his powers or changes back until those stab wounds have mostly filled in."

"What about Stain?" Iida asked, even as he moved to support his friend.

"He won't be able to hurt me or escape my tech. I'll keep an eye on him till reinforcements come."

"So you'll take all the credit?" Todoroki said dryly.

Valerie's eyes flared red. "I'm getting myself listed as a vigilante so Midoriya doesn't have to face the consequences of this. You realize if word gets out you fought a villain your protection is gone right?"

Neither Todoroki nor Iida knew what she meant, but the soft explative coming from their injured friend said volumes.

"Go." She ordered, and none of the three questioned it.

Iida had so many questions. Why had Midoroya referred to himself as undead and 'Valerie' called his normal state his 'living form'? Why had he said he'd been murdered by a villain? What 'protection' did he have and why would he lose it?

And yet he didn't think he could ask any of them. His idiocy was the reason Midoriya had been hurt so badly and them all put at risk. How could he face his friends, much less ask deeply personal questions?

"I guess I owe you guys an explanation?" Izuku asked weakly. The ring formed around his waist, but he banished it.

"No you don't." Todoroki said bluntly. "Personal stuff, especially the hard stuff, isn't owed to anyone. When I shared my past with you, it was because I wanted to."

Izuku was quiet a moment. "Maybe I should anyway. I thought I was okay with stuff, but obviously not if I lost it like that."

They ducked into an alcove, allowing him to rest and giving them a modicum of privacy. "Okay, so you know my quirk was latent and I only unlocked it last spring, right?"

Iida and Todoroki nodded. It was common knowledge that was why he had so much trouble controlling his quirk at the start of the year.

"Turns out that wasn't the case. Like, to be fair I thought it was. Most latent quirks emerge in times of high stress and being the victim of a villain attack fit. But All Might saved me at the last moment and it was fine." The hysterical note in his voice showed it very much was not fine.

"And then the ghosts. showed up. Which sounds stupid, but that's what happened. They were calling me 'The Great One' and -"

Todoroki sat up straight. "The Yeti-person who stopped the villain attacking the school. She apologized to 'The Great One'. I thought she meant All Might but-"

"It was me. " Izuku said dryly. "I wasn't keen to advertise the fact. And I also didn't want to explain she and the person she captured were ghosts."

Iida bit his tongue. Ghosts seemed beyond far fetched, but it didn't feel right questioning his friend on the matter.

"The dog is too?" Todoroki guessed. "That's why it can disappear and go through walls. And all those reports of people with similar powers breaking quirk regulation laws..."

"Ghosts." Izuku confirmed. "The Honor Guard try to keep as many as they can from getting through."

"Who?" Iida finally asked.

Izuku huffed. "Right, I guess I have to explain about him. Danny, hero name Phantom. He's from long ago. Before...before quirks, really. His parents were experimenting with a portal to the Underworld and he got caught in it. Changed him. Basically made him undead. And he decided to become a hero with it. He did a pretty good job, up until..."

Izuku swallowed. "Up until some fanatics backed by the American Government decided to basically blow up the Underworld to destroy all the unnatural things in it. But the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead are connected, destroying one would destroy both."

"Danny sacrificed himself to save both worlds, destroying his parents gate in the process. He was mostly forgotten in the land of the living, as part of a cover up for the government to hide their involvement, but in the Land of the Dead he's like their All Might. This Legend that saved them all. He's got a gigantic following of people trying to live up to his ideals. The Honor Guard is a part of that. So is Valerie."

"He sounds like a true hero." Iida observed. "But you sounded upset when you first mentioned him."

Izuku left out a puff of breath. "Because I am him."

The other two just stared at him.

"Reincarnated." Izuku amended. "I was him in a past life. That's how I got his powers. It wasn't a close call, my body died and that triggered the undead powers from my past life. That also triggered the portal reopening, which is why the ghosts are coming through now. And it should be cool knowing I was a real hero in a past life, but I don't know if I can ever live up to everyone's expectations of me. And it's great I have so many people who want to help, but I also know each and every one of them would rather I be him instead."

"Midoriya, did you...see a councilor after the villain attack." Iida asked lenitively.

"Yeah," He shrugged. "New quirk, gotta figure it out and register it. Drove me crazy because it made no sense since, you know, turned out it wasn't a quirk at all."

"Not a quirk councilor." Todoroki clarified. "A trauma councilor." Izuku blinked at them.

"That's a no." Iida sighed, feeling another spark on anger in him. Thankfully not the maddening rage of before, but...he'd hated hearing Izuku talk of his treatment before he got his quirk and hated that even afterwards he still fell through the cracks. "You should have received some aid for dealing with such a horrible experience. Especially one bad enough you...are you entirely sure that you....?"

"I felt my lungs give out and my brain shut down." Izuku said simply. "I was fine after I transformed, though. I went home after the villain was captured."

"You didn't even go to a hospital?" Todoroki and Iida shared a look. They'd have to have a talk with All Might after this.

"I was fine."

"You were not." Iida insisted. "No wonder you reacted so poorly to Stain. You must think me a monster too." He had gone into that alley with the intent to kill for Justice. How could he be any different from Stain in Midoriya's mind.

"You're not a monster you just...weren't thinking straight," Izuku winced.

"What did she mean by protections?" Todoroki asked, steering the topic back.

"Okay, so Danny was a regular opponent to a lot of ghosts trying to break into the Land of the Living and a large amount started fighting him because they liked the challenge. It's been explained that I won't fight them until I get my Hero License, so that's been keeping them back. Some of the Honor Guard focus on keeping the more stubborn ones away from me, and Valerie acts as a bodyguard against those who make it through so they don't get their way after all. But if word gets out I fought a villain, that means I would be willing to fight, so they'll come after me in droves."

Another pang of guilt stabbed Iida. He'd screwed things up worse than he knew.

Todoroki reached into Izuku's oversized sleeve and grabbed his hand. A silent show of support. Just like Iida, the fact that Izuku had died and no one seemed to have noticed infuriated him. Izuku took the support and ran with it, grabbing Todoroki and sobbing his characteristic stream of tears. Todoroki shot Iida a glare demanding he join in the group hug.

Iida was unsure he was welcome, but complied. Izuku grabbed onto him too.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying,"

"You went through a terrible thing and weren't allowed to deal with it. Maybe now you can?" Iida suggested.

"You died. You're allowed to cry over it."

Izuku took that advice to heart, sobbing harder. He changed back partially through the cry and apologized for getting his blood (now red) on their costumes.

As they separated, Todoroki brushed some of the red off and stared at his fingers. The villain who'd attacked him, the hero who just left him, the ghosts who'd offered him guidance but no comfort, the system that ignored him. How many others had Izuku's blood on their hands as much as he did now and never even realized.

#Hero's Spirit #BnHA #Danny Phantom #TW: Blood #TW: Mention of Death #Ghost Writing

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ecto-american · 3 years

Note

Hello there! I forgot if I asked this before (my apologies if I did, I don't mean to rush you, take all the time you need), but I was wondering if you were able to possibly continue of have a part two for that one request where Star stumbled upon Sam and Danny playing bowling. I really enjoyed it, and would love to see more. Thanks!

I take prompts within reason but literally never expect me to write it within any reasonable amount of time because ho boy

The first part mentioned in the post

But why Sam? Out of all girls in town? Well, ghosts were spooky, makes sense that they’d attach themselves to goths like moths to a light. Did that mean the ghost boy hung out with a lot of local goths? No...surely at least one of them would have spilled the beans.

Star stared off into nothing as she thought, only-half listening to her boyfriend’s commentary on the game. While she wasn’t looking at anything in particular, the popular teen couldn’t help but let her gaze fall into the loser trio’s direction. They were a few lanes down from them, bowling. Why they were in public being losers was beyond her. Especially knowing that Sam’s basement had a bowling alley.

Danny bowled, and he did an excited jump, saying something to the other losers. He had gotten a strike. This was his third one. Valerie had told her he was good at bowling, but she didn’t really ever think much about it. Her cousin was sulking, as normal for her weird, goth self. Sam glanced in her direction, and they met eyes. Star looked away to stare at her own game. Paulina was up, and as normal, she wasn’t a very good bowler. She got a gutter and was complaining to Dash about it.

Star lightly sipped a milkshake to avoid needing to reply, until Kwan finally snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Hey, Starlight? You okay?” he questioned. She glanced at him, and she shrugged.

“Just lost in thought,” she replied honestly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kwan was always such a sweetie, and Star couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s just some weird family stuff I can’t quite figure out,” she confessed. It was Kwan’s turn to steal a glance at the loser trio.

“Something happen with Sam?” he asked quietly. Kwan was the only one who knew the cousin connection, and he only knew because her parents had accidentally told him. If anybody besides Kwan, who for some reason really liked Sam, knew that she was cousins with that goth freak, her social life would be over.

“...Sorta.” Star went back to watching them. The three had seemingly completely stopped their game, instead exchanging looks to each other.

And suddenly, they completely abandoned their game.

She didn’t even hide her confusion as she watched them simply...leave. As a group, with their game not even half over and leaving behind nothing, still in their bowling shoes, collectively going towards the back door. Where were they going? They had to be coming back, Sam would have never dared to leave her favorite pair of boots behind.

Kwan noticed too.

“What’s up with them?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” she mused. She stood up. “I’m going to go see. Just bowl for me if you want, or Dash can.”

“Gotcha!” Kwan nodded. “Let me know if you need help.”

“I can handle a goth,” Star lightly joked, smiling as she began to make her way towards them.

Sam was the last in line to exit out the back door, but she had seen Star coming for her, and she paused. She turned to her friends, saying something Star couldn’t make out before shutting the door on them. Sam turned to stare at Star as she approached, frowning.

“What the fuck is with you?” Sam demanded to know the second Star was close enough. “You’ve been super weird since Saturday. You actually texted me. You never text me.”

“Well yeah,” Star scoffed, crossing her arms. “I saw you and Phantom bowling together, and now you’re here? Bowling again?”

“Will you stop that?” Sam grumbled. Her hands went to her hips. “I was home alone all Saturday until you and Aunt Rene showed up. Nothing happened. Stop spreading false rumors just because you need a popularity boost in your prep crowd.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” Star replied. “Besides the truth I mean. Something’s going on. I wanna know what it is.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Sam argued. “Why are you so hung up on this?”

“Because I know I saw something! I heard something!” Star insisted. She jumped, and Sam flinched as a loud crashing noise came from above.

Star jerked her head to the ceiling, but saw nothing. She glanced at Sam, seeing her cousin stare worriedly above. It was obviously ghosts, any Amity Park resident could tell you that much.

...Is that why Sam and her friends were eager to go? To see the ghosts? How did they know that there was a ghost fight going on before anybody else? That had to mean that her weird loser friends knew Phantom too. But Fenton’s parents hunted ghosts, didn’t they? They were the weirdos in town that wore jumpsuits everywhere. Maybe they had a tracker device?

“We should leave,” Star spoke up. “Ghosts are dangerous.” She could have sworn that she saw Sam roll her eyes.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sam just seemed to brush off the danger. There were hard thuds on the ceiling, making the room shake, and Star flinched.

“That doesn’t sound fine,” Star frowned.

Sam opened her mouth to reply, only for the ceiling to completely collapse as a ghost rammed inside. Star flew back a few feet from the impact, doing a roll as she was only stopped by the railing that separated the main floor from the bowling lanes. All the lights had gone out, and she could hear people scrambling for the exit.

She looked up to see a full black ghost with its hands around Phantom’s neck, pressing him into the ground. Phantom kicked the ghost off, blasting him with some kind of green energy she had seen him use several times before the ghost screeched in pain, letting go of him and slithering off into the darkness of the bowling alley.

“Are you okay?” Phantom’s voice asked, and Star immediately panicked. Sam.

She rushed over to see Phantom phasing Sam out from under some rubble, moving her away a few feet behind the bowling shoes counter. Star fell to her knees next to them. Sam looked dirty and had a few immediate scraps and bruises that began to form. Her foot was the worst. She couldn’t tell so much in the dark, but Star knew something was off.

“I got her,” Star assured the ghost. He looked at her, almost...quizzingly. “She’s my cousin, I’ll ride with her to the hospital and call Aunt Pam.”

Phantom blinked in absolute awe, glancing between her and the goth with disbelief. Well, it probably was kind of hard to believe. They were nothing alike. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. Why was he so hung up on that?

“Wait, what?”

Sam scowled, grabbing Phantom by the collar and yanking him to her.

“Danny, go stop the damn ghost already!” she snapped at him. Danny? Oh, right. Danny Phantom. So weird that Fenton and Phantom shared a name. Well, Danny wasn’t that uncommon. They had several Dannys in their grade.

Phantom broke out of his stupor, and he nodded. He took her hand off him, and he lightly squeezed it. Like they knew each other. It was subtle, but Star saw the touch and that brief look of intimate concern for her.

“Get out,” he spoke to Star, and he soon jumped over the counter, and back into the action.

Star watched his leap, before she returned to Sam. With Phantom gone, Sam seemed to finally break a little. She had tears in her eyes now, and she gave a hard sniffle as she tried to not openly cry. Family rivalry was brushed aside, and Star leaned in to hug her. Surprisingly, one of Sam’s arms wrapped around her in a light hug back.

“Come on,” Star said quietly. She let go, and she got to her knees, staying squatted next to her cousin. Sam stared at her, lip quivering.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” she complained quietly.

Another glance at the injury, and well, yeah. No way Sam was walking on that kind of a twisted ankle.

“It’s okay,” Star soothed. “I’ll help.”

Star glanced around, seeing the ghost fight finally be taken out of the bowling alley and back outside. The emergency exit they were by before was completely blocked, and several lanes had been torn up. But at least it was ghost-free from the immediate looks of it.

She sighed with relief, standing up before holding her hands out to Sam. She pulled Sam to her foot, quickly shifting as they put their arms around each other’s shoulder. Sam leaned into her, and Star wrapped her arm around her waist, and they began to slowly make their way out, staying hugged along the wall.

“Star! Sam!” The girls snapped their head towards Kwan, who had rushed up to them. He looked a bit disheveled, mostly dirty more than anything else, and he was glancing at them, concerned. “Are you guys hurt?”

“Sam hurt her ankle pretty bad,” Star explained. Kwan glanced down, and he paled a bit.

“It looks bad,” he replied bluntly. Star glanced down, seeing the injury truly in better light. Kwan was right. It did look bad. She didn’t realize until now that Sam was actually bleeding from her ankle too, and that the blood was on her cousin’s tights as well as some on Star’s pants. “Here, let me.”

Kwan shifted to pick Sam up bridal style, and Star immediately rushed for the door to open it for him. Kwan carried her with ease outside, where police cars were already pulling up. Star waved an officer down as he was exiting his car.

“We need an ambulance!” she called out. The officer just nodded, speaking into his radio as he came over.

“What’s the damage?” the officer asked.

“My ankle,” Sam replied, lightly lifting up the injured foot in question. Now in the full bright light of the day, Star was absolutely sure that it was broken. The boot hid her foot, but it was at an odd angle that feet just didn’t bend at.

“Come over here,” the officer instructed. He motioned for them to follow him as he took a few steps back towards a bench. “Set her down here.”

Kwan did just that, with the officer’s help, putting Sam sitting down on the bench. Sam gave a small groan of pain as her foot brushed against the ground as she was transferred.

“Did you call your parents yet?” the officer asked. Sam shook her head no.

“I’ll call them,” Star promised. The officer nodded.

“Star, please call Grandma Ida,” Sam pleaded. Star glanced at her. “Mom’ll flip out.”

“I’ll see if I can reach Grandma first,” Star promised. She pulled her phone out, scrolling for her contact, and she rang up their grandma.

She answered, and Star quickly filled her in on the details, even though her mind was still thinking back to Sam and Phantom. Things were still way too weird. They way they looked at each other, Phantom’s reaction to the family connection. They knew each other. Star just knew it.

#my phics #phics #star #sam manson #danny phantom #plazmawulf

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charming-2d-boys · 4 years

Note

Also if that anon didn't already request it again, could you add illumi and chrollo with a significant other on their period to your list? :3

Wooo, of course, I can't wait to write this! 😆

Thank you for the request! 😘

Chrollo

I just want to get this out of the way: Chrollo knows what periods are because he’s read quite the number of medical books when bored out of his mind and/or out of literature books

but he also doesn’t really get it because he’s a guy

doesn’t mean he’s gonna be insensitive or make it seem as if the way you’re acting is exaggerated

he’s got Machi, Pakunoda and Shizuku who also know what it means to suffer like that

so, he will ask you first of all, since you know your body best

what helps you, what makes it worse, what has no effect, did you try this and how did you feel afterwards?

he really just wants you to feel okay and hates seeing you in pain

he actually feels useless when he knows that he can’t help you in this situation

Chrollo just... dies a bit on the inside when you run out of tampons/pads

ladies and gentlemen

badass thief and murderer, plus leader of the Phantom Troupe, Chrollo Lucilfer, embarrassed to go and buy you tampons/pads

the first time you asked him to do it, he went into the store and bought pretty much everything else he thought you might need and want

and avoided the dreaded aisle like it was the plague itself

he manned up in the end and bought you what you needed (looked at what you told him to buy and also took a picture of the box before he left)

the old woman at the cash register just smiled at him and told him what a good boyfriend he is

cue the little blush on his cheeks and a thank you, ma’am

when he got home, he complained like a child

despite this, he actually got used to the situation

of course, you usually always had enough, but on the rare occasion where you would run out, Chrollo would have to go, again

but now he’s actually proud that he can help you somehow

still embarrassed when he receives adoring looks from older women because he’s such a gentleman and look what he does for his girlfriend

he cuddles you enough if it makes you feel better

unfortunately, his hands aren’t really helping you much because they can be pretty cold

but you appreciate the gesture nevertheless

always has tea, painkillers, blankets, food, sweets and whatever else you may want ready just for you

in case he doesn’t understand something or needs help and you can’t do something, he’ll call one of the girls and ask them for help

Machi and Pakunoda are usually the ones who come and help, because Shizuku is lucky enough to not really feel anything and her period ends fast - lucky

he never gets angry with you - happens very, very rarely in general - and always talks in that calm and soothing voice of his

likes reading to you until you fall asleep and aren’t in pain anymore

always kisses your forehead before he falls asleep because you’re a tough cookie and he respects how strong you are to go through this on a monthly basis - you laughed then hugged him when he told you that the next day

Illumi

Illumi is... clueless, to say the least

you’re his first long-time girlfriend and he’s still learning how relationships work

so when he wakes up one morning with blood in the bed, coming from you, he panics like never before

shakes you like crazy and when he asks if you’re alright, you suddenly get up and run to the bathroom to take a shower and change, yelling at Illumi that you’ll change the sheets when you get out

poor boy thought you were killed in your sleep and he failed to protect you

after you’re done with your shower and come out of the bathroom, still quite embarrassed, you change the sheets before going in the kitchen, where Illumi is waiting for you with breakfast

of course he’s gonna ask you what had happened and you’ll have to take him through a little anatomy lesson

the reason why Illumi doesn’t know is because the entire family only had boys

and Alluka is too young

so of course none of them know about periods and probably wouldn’t want to find out anytime soon either

after you’re done explaining, he sighs in relief

as long as you were okay in the end, then he could breathe normally again

probably didn’t really believe how bad it was until a few accidents took place

then Illumi just shut up really quick and didn’t say anything about it again

does whatever you want him to, within reason, of course

he’s already learnt how to make breakfast and always brings you something warm to drink

likes that now he’s got an excuse to keep in you in his lap constantly

his hands are nice and warm and keep you toasty

the only thing he doesn’t do is go to buy tampons or pads

he’s a Zoldyck, for Pete’s sake

he’s already doing enough things that were usually done by the butlers

he can’t do this

but man, those eyes of yours and the amount of blood and painful whimpers are just too much for his little heart

he will begrudgingly go and buy you almost the entire shelf, just so he doesn’t have to go again

he’s not really disgusted by the blood, but just the fact that it... happens, let’s say

like, a body bleeds and stops in a few hours

yours takes days... and makes you suffer

and he can’t really do much

except to suggest that you have a baby

which earns him a pillow over the head and a no way!

it was only a suggestion

still no

cue the sigh of defeat

good thing he loves you

he’s already doing so many things for you

a few more probably won’t hurt

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x reader #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #hxh chrollo #hxh illumi #hxh writing

188 notes · View notes

enigmainvestigations · 3 years

Text

ENI Season 1 Finale (episodes 8 - 14)

AO3 post: ??? Series link: ???

Episode 8 - A New Client

The man on the ground before him was out cold. Edward knelt and checked the hitman’s jacket pockets and found a pack of Lucky’s, which he pocketed. Next, he checked the man’s pants pockets, but those turned up empty. He pivoted on his feet to check the condition of the hitman behind him, hovering his hand near the man’s nostrils. This one’s breath was faster than the first, and Edward figured he must be coming to. But he didn’t need to worry too much about that; they all looked too beaten up to be much of a threat. Edward rolled the man over to get to his jacket pockets, and, as he did, the man groaned under his breath. Stuffing a hand into the man’s jacket, he found a small piece of paper. His eyes scanned it -- it looked like a phone number -- and he pocketed it to keep it out of the rain. Checking the other pocket in his jacket, Edward heard the man groan again. He looked down and saw the young man’s eyes staring up at him.

Edward grinned as he continued to search him. “First time, huh?”

The man moaned in pain, and rolled over, his motions stiff and weak. Edward patted him down, checking for a firearm. The man attempted to push his arm away, but Edward swatted at his hand to stop him. “Oh, stop complaining. Let me let you in on a little secret, it hurts much more the second day. I’d take it slow if I were you.”

Moving up on his feet, Edward made his way down the alley to the third hitman, who was also beginning to stir on the ground. Checking him, he pulled out a photograph from the man’s jacket. It was a photo of Edward himself -- it looked like it was taken on his night out at the local bars. A small smile crossed his lips, and he pocketed the photo; the man didn’t seem to care, instead focusing all his attention on an attempt to stop the blood gushing from his nose. As he stood, Edward looked down at the men who were writhing in pain, one rigidly attempting to sit up.

“Well boys, you’re on his bad side now. I wish you luck,” he tilted his hat to them, a wide grin on his face as he turned to head out of the alley.

He traveled away from the area, taking a few side routes just in case they’d gotten to their feet and made the idiotic decision to try to kill him a second time. He knew better than to assume the Bat had moved on. He was sure the dark figure was watching him, following him from above like a stalking predator. Edward assumed the Bat had left to see what he would do in his absence. It was a test, something he did frequently to observe people’s behavior. He hated to admit it, it was an intelligent move. But Edward hadn’t touched any of the men’s money, even though the thought had crossed his mind. He could consider it payment for trying to take his life. However, that wouldn’t have been a smart thing to do. If he’d done it, then the Bat would come after him once he was at a safe distance from the alley. That was still a possibility even now though, and his eyes scanned the rooftops around him as he walked and listened to his surroundings for any motion.

Edward hoped Batman wouldn’t reappear -- that whole encounter had been quite jarring and confusing. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Batman would show up, let alone assist him. His mind kept trying to figure out why the vigilante had entered the fray. The logical answer was that it was because Edward was a civilian now, a citizen that had a hit out on him, and the Bat did what he always does in that situation. But that concept felt too simple, too foreign for him to accept. So, his mind continued to speculate what Batman’s play could’ve been.

He had to admit, it was quite frightening to see the man in action from a different perspective. The spine-chilling tales that surrounded Batman made more sense now. He could only imagine what that encounter must’ve been like from the perspective of a regular citizen. Edward had always seen Batman as a foe -- not quite an equal, but close. The fear he instilled in others had always been something he’d considered the woes of lesser men. But now, the chess pieces had moved, and they were both playing on a different board. Perhaps that was it: he was one of the lesser men now, a regular citizen that needed a phantom to swoop in to save him. Edward felt a wave of emotion hit him abruptly; the sensation of not belonging once again invaded his mind. He tried to keep himself focused on his route rather than waste the time letting it control his thoughts.

Edward couldn’t use the underground shortcut to return -- it was too risky with Batman tailing him. Instead, he opted to make the trip as boring as possible, especially now that he was too far for the men to follow. It made his walk longer, but he needed the time to think over the stark amount of new information he’d acquired.

Two of the hitmen had been young and inexperienced. The man he’d crossed paths with in the loading alley appeared just as surprised to see Edward as Edward was to see him. The thing about young and inexperienced hitmen is they’re cheap, and easy to find in Gotham. Ignorant boys trying to make some quick cash, though any real criminal in the city wouldn’t waste their time on them. Those two facts boded well for him. He was dealing with someone who didn’t know what they were doing, and surely this wouldn’t be the only mistake they made. Whoever they were, the need to hire hitmen showed they were afraid, and fear makes people do stupid things. Stupid things like tilting their hands too much, letting information slip, or jumping out into the open in an illogical attempt to hide. It was a human trait Edward had preyed on frequently during his criminal career, an easy emotion to exploit under the right circumstances.

However, what he hadn’t expected was that whoever this culprit was would take the drastic action of trying to kill him. Nothing in the evidence pointed to such behavior being a predictable reaction. To the culprit it was only a bunch of empty buildings, and he couldn’t fathom what payoff could be involved that would be worth murder. Then again, they were playing a dangerous game and were clearly out of their league. Edward poking his nose around might have been just enough to scare them into making such a silly mistake. Though, he doubted they knew very much about him, or they wouldn’t have been so foolish. Nor would they have made the classic mistake criminals did regularly in this city.

They didn’t hire one hitman, they’d hired three -- the logical fallacy that greater numbers mean a greater possible outcome of success. It was a mistake many in the underground made with the Bat. One guy with a gun couldn’t stop him, so get twenty guys with more guns and the plan will be successful. No one ever considered the obvious: the guns didn’t work, no matter how many you added to the scenario. The more men you used simply meant you wasted more money. It was a mistake he’d never made when dealing with Batman, and it was one of the first riddles about the man he’d solved.

Though, Edward wasn’t very happy about having a hit out on him. He was sick and tired of people trying to kill him, and the fact that he’d have to spend even more time looking over his shoulder just made him feel drained. As he crossed the bridge to the south island he checked his watch; it was three in the morning. Much later than he’d intended to be out, but it didn’t appear that anyone had seen him out and about -- anyone other than the Bat, that is. He could only hope Batman wouldn’t pull some passive-aggressive move and tip off some officer to his activities this evening. By the time he’d unlocked his office door, he was beginning to feel very exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that he might not even have to drink tonight to get his mind to quiet down.

He was correct in that belief, and he didn’t have to lay on the couch for very long before sleep took him. His rest was deep, and by the time he was awoken by the ringing of the phone the next morning, he had impressions on his skin from the cushions on the couch. In a haze, he pulled the phone down beside him, picked up the handset, and rubbed his face, trying to wake up.

“Isn’t this late for your check-in call, officer?” he muttered into the phone.

There was a short pause on the line, “Excuse me?” Edward could hear quite a lot of noise through the phone, and the voice wasn’t officer Blue 334. “I’m sorry, is this Edward Nigma’s residence?”

Edward yawned, fumbling with his glasses on the floor beside him, “Yeah? Who is this?”

“This is officer Wilkes, I’m --”

“Ahh, Wilkes the snitch. How’re you this fine morning, Wilkes?” Edward propped his glasses on and ran a hand through his hair as he continued to wake.

“I-I’m fine?” He seemed confused by the question, but he cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his professional demeanor. “Mr. Nigma, I’m calling you on behalf of the Commissioner --”

“Is that right?” Edward interrupted.

“...Yes, he would like to speak with you, it concerns a case he’s investigating --”

Edward let out a groan of annoyance.

“-- he would like for you to come to his office this evening.” Wilkes finished, a slight twinge of irritation in his tone.

“This evening?” Edward asked through another yawn.

“Yes, he’s very busy, but he can work you in at eleven tonight.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Tell him I’ll be there,” and he dropped the handset back onto the receiver on the floor.

Immediately, he drifted back to sleep. When he woke again, he adjusted his glasses -- as they’d started digging into the bridge of his nose -- and checked his watch. It was one in the afternoon, and he struggled to pull himself off the couch, his muscles sore from the exertion of the night before. He went through his normal morning routine: he grabbed one of the apples from the kitchen and picked through the new pieces of evidence he’d acquired on his desk. The photo was still a source of amusement for him, and the paper with the phone number didn’t have any other useful information on it. Tossing the apple core into the trash bin, he picked the receiver up off the floor and dialed the number on his rotary phone. He was surprised when the operator picked up the line and asked him to check which number he was calling. Reciting the digits to her, he waited as she checked it again, but, unfortunately, the line was a dead end. He thanked the operator, and, as he set down the phone, he began to fidget. Perhaps they weren’t as foolish as he’d thought, or the number wasn’t a phone number at all.

He flopped into his desk chair, took out one of his notepads, and began working the number through any variation he could think of. He tried to see if there was any alphabetic translation, or if it was some kind of cipher, but everything ended up being nonsense. He flipped the paper over and over in his hand, trying to figure out what else it could be, before tossing it back to the desktop. He was applying too much intelligence to this, there was no way it could be this complicated. The events of last night had proven that, and every time he tried to look at it through a more skilled lens he ended up at a dead end. He was starting to get the feeling that the answer was easy, and it was right under his nose. But right now his mind was foggy -- he was sure he’d gotten too much sleep. He slid the paper and the notepad into his desk drawer and shut it with a flick of his hand. He needed more coffee.

The rest of the day was uneventful. He’d taken a trip down to the diner closer to Old Gotham, thinking a change in environment might help his brain get in gear. A morning paper had been left in one of the booths, and so he’d spent most of his time drinking coffee and scanning the classifieds for any potential work. There hadn’t been any fires yesterday, though that might be because whoever was responsible for the others was now focused on him. After he left the diner, he was feeling more alert and much more energized. He started to make a mental list of places he needed to visit to further the fire investigation, or at least to see if he could get his hands on some records to find a connection between the buildings. He swung back by the office in the evening and grabbed his coat and hat. Then, he headed down to the underground train station.

Once he got onto the platform, he checked his watch; he was early. Just how he liked it. When you weren’t sure what a meeting was for it was best to show up much earlier than the agreed time. It gave the other side less time for preparation and made it more likely that you would enter the discussion at an advantage. He was lucky today -- the trains were on time -- but as he got into the car, his leg muscles tensed. He’d certainly exerted too much energy last night in his malnutritioned state. Edward watched as the lights on the tunnel walls flashed by the windows as it continued on its track, the ambient rustle of the train car almost relaxing. The woman in the car with him kept sneaking glances in his direction. He was sure she recognized him. At one point he caught her staring and stared back, but it was immediately obvious she wasn’t another hitman. He saw nothing but fear in her eyes. Eventually, she got up and moved to the back of the car to put more distance between them and to place herself closer to an exit.

As the train finally approached his stop, Edward stood up and headed to the door, grabbing hold of the railing above to keep his balance. He noticed the woman in the back of the car watching him as he exited the train; at least now she could be at ease. The station was much busier here, and he watched the crowds of people migrating to and from the train around him. He found himself gathered in with the night workers as they traveled up the stairs to the street level. Some of them looked in his direction, but most were too preoccupied with their morning routines to worry. Getting up to the sidewalk, Edward looked around. The traffic was much busier here, even at this late hour. He remembered that this part of the city was very chaotic during the territory wars, but it looked as if it hadn’t suffered too much of the destruction. The streets looked much the same, and to a tourist it would look like it had been nothing but business as usual here. It felt like a photograph, almost like a time capsule.

He looked across the street to his destination, the GCPD headquarters -- the new one, he reminded himself. They had a bad track record of letting these buildings get destroyed, or at least become unusable. He hurried through a break in the traffic and made his way up the wide stone steps to the entrance. He’d only walked through the front doors of this particular building twice, and he was barely conscious at the time. Once inside, he stopped and looked around the small entryway, spotting a plaque on the wall with office numbers. He barely looked at it, just skimmed, knowing the name would catch his eye. And it did. Commissioner and 3rd were all he needed, and he hurried up the steps on his right.

He wasn’t sure what this meeting was for, but he did find it odd that Gordon hadn’t made the invite call himself. Having Wilkes do it could be interpreted in different ways, some insulting and some logical. He assumed Gordon was going to try another tactic to question him about the events inside the Narrows, and he was more than willing to show up for that game. He’d grown tired of his frequent phone calls, and the idea of Gordon trapped in his office with an unrelenting Edward sounded like a good way to spend the evening hours. He wondered how long it was going to take Gordon to figure out that most of the people affected weren’t going to speak. It was Jim’s job, yes; Edward knew that, but it was too ugly of a thing to look back at.

As he climbed the stairs, he noticed many nasty looks from the officers he passed. Some of them looked angry, but others just looked disappointed. Probably that you’re still breathing, Edward thought. Good, I hope it ruins their day. Finally getting to the third floor, Edward began a slow stride down the long hall. The open area to his left was filled with mostly empty desks, and only a few detectives spotted the area, hunched over paperwork or clicking away at their typewriters. He noticed one staring and felt a burst of excitement in his chest. Bullock was sitting at this desk, staring him down, their last encounter clearly not forgotten. Edward noticed he had a new haircut, and that, like last time, he didn't look as rough for wear as Edward was used to. Maybe he finally quit drinking, probably not the best decision in the current climate. With a tilt of his hat he gave Bullock a smile, but Harvey only let out a groan Edward could barely hear and turned back to his work in a huff. Thanks, Bullock, he thought. That at least told Edward he wasn’t here for some empty threat of arrest; Harvey wouldn’t be able to contain his joy if that was the case. That was good, he was tired of that boast.

Getting to Gordon’s office door, he knocked in a rhythmic pattern and entered after hearing an invitation from within. The room was dark other than the lamp on Gordon’s desk, and as Edward entered he noted the slight look of surprise on Jim’s face. Edward closed the door behind him and watched Jim sit up in his chair, and the annoyance on his face made Edward’s mood fly into jubilation.

Jim looked at his watch. “I guess eleven o’clock is ten-thirty in Arkham time.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Jim. I’m a working man now, being overly punctual looks good on all my paperwork.” Edward responded, happily nestling his hands into his coat pockets.

Jim let out an exhausted breath. Taking the work folder off his desk, he shoved it into one of the drawers, but not before Edward could catch a few words off the pages. Jim lit a cigarette as he stood, making his way over to the filing cabinet by the window.

“You want a coffee or anything?” Jim mumbled as he pulled a few files out.

“Got anything stronger?” Edward prodded.

“Yes, but I’m not wasting it on you,” Jim said as he moved back toward his desk with a stack of files in hand. As Jim moved past the window, Edward spotted a tall dark figure there, blocking the moonlight shimmering through the panes. In an instant, his jubilation was gone. Edward glared at the white eyes staring at him from the darkness, and he felt his chest tightened at the realization he hadn’t noticed earlier that the Bat was there.

“Have a seat, Edward,” Jim said as he sat back down at his desk.

“I’ll stand.” Edward blurted out, his eyes still fixated on the dark corner.

Jim’s eyes shifted between the two men, but he decided to ignore the clear animosity Edward held, “Whatever makes you more comfortable, I guess.” He took a deep drag from his snipe and looked Edward square in the eyes, “Alright, Ed. We know --”

“Edward. We’ve been through this, you don’t get to call me that.” Edward interrupted.

“...Edward, I know that you’re investigating the fires.” Jim finished.

Edward stuffed his hands deeper into his coat pockets, giving Jim a stern look. “Is that what this meeting is about? I’m not telling you a damn thing, Jim.” He gave the commissioner a smug grin. “If that’s all, can I go now?”

Jim narrowed his eyes, leaning forward over his desk a bit and piercing Edward with a stern look that only fathers could muster. “How about you let me finish? You think you can keep that smart mouth of yours shut long enough for me to explain?”

Edward gritted his teeth, “Fine.”

Jim puffed on his cigarette, and Edward could tell he’d already gotten on the man’s nerves, which would’ve been enjoyable if it wasn’t for their third wheel. Letting out a deep sigh, the smoke flew around Jim in the bright light from the lamp.

“Edward, I know you’re investigating the fires. You’ve been spotted at a couple of the scenes, and --”

“They weren’t locked down.” Edward interrupted again, but a swift look from Jim made him shut his mouth.

“And, I don’t know how much you’ve figured out on your own. I know this is going to sound strange, but I’m not asking you to divulge all your intel to us. I asked you here to tell you what we know.” Jim finished.

Edward frowned in confusion, then laughed under his breath. “You can’t be serious. You want to tell me what you know?”

“To be honest, this case is pretty complicated,” Jim mumbled around the cigarette in his mouth, “We both decided that the more eyes we have looking at it is a good thing. And then, you’ll have a better idea of what to look for should any new evidence crop up.” Edward could tell he was trying his best to remain professional, to ease any suspicions that Edward had. But the detective knew this was a trick, it had to be. There was no way on Earth either of these men would confide information to him. Edward opened his mouth to speak, but Jim cut him off.

“And, before you say it, no, this isn’t some scheme to get you to tell us what you know. And, again, before you ask, yes, there’s a catch. There’s something we’d like to ask for in return.” Jim huffed out a puff of smoke. “C’mon, Nigma, you’re used to this. We help you with your investigation, and in turn, you help us with a problem we’ve been running up against. It's been causing us some trouble and slowing down progress in the investigation.”

Edward looked between the two men, running through possible options in his mind. He felt out of sorts again, unsure what guise would be the best strategy for this situation. He couldn't play his tried-and-true Riddler shtick, that could ruin everything. But he was too flustered to act out the know-it-all attitude, too put-out for the calm and collected better-than-you routine. The offer was intriguing, but it was sending off every alarm bell in his mind. Then the Bat stepped out of the shadows, and as he got closer to the desk the lamplight made more of him visible. It was much different seeing him in the light than in the dark alley the night before. Edward felt his pulse quicken, and then that grating deep voice finally filled the room.

“Nigma.”

“Don’t,” Edward interrupted, yet again.

“Nigma --”

“I’m here to talk to Jim! I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. If I knew you were going to be here, I wouldn't have come at all.” Edward’s breath hastened, and he cursed himself mentally. That came across less direct and more childish than he’d intended, but the Bat remained silent.

He hated that, he’d always hated it. That expressionless, silent stare always grated on his nerves. Edward hated it even more now that he knew what it was, and that, before, he’d fallen for it so easily. It was an interrogation tactic: remain silent to entice the other to continue speaking. He wasn’t going to fall for it this time, he’d learned this tactic as well, so he simply stared back. Which seemed like a good idea at first, but the longer he looked, the more uncomfortable he became. The light showed him how different the cowl was now, and the cape had changed as well. It always annoyed Edward when the Bat would show up with a whole new suit -- keeping up with all the variations was tedious work. He saw a small nick in the cowl on one side, Hit with something no doubt. Edward’s first thought was that he hoped it hurt, but that thought brought on a strange melancholy sensation. He remembered that the Bat had been hurt a lot recently, and he had no idea how badly since he wasn’t there to see it. He had been... preoccupied at the time.

He’d heard some of the stories, but when it came to the Dark Knight those were mostly untrue. He wasn’t as extravagant as the tales made him out to be. Then, all of a sudden, one of those stories flashed in his memory. They said he’d stayed outside the barricades for a whole week, trying to find a way to break in to save people. But, all his attempts were unsuccessful. Edward hated that one in particular; it sounded exactly like the sort of thing the stubborn idiot would do, and the thought of it made him uneasy. He broke the long stare, his eyes wandering around the room as he tried to look unbothered.

Jim’s gruff voice broke the uncomfortable silence. “Edward, we need your help. That’s what he’s trying to say, that’s why we called you here.”

Edward froze and attempted to hide his shock at that statement, but his gaze darted to Jim’s. He saw genuine pleading in the commissioner’s eyes, and he let out a howl of frustration. Jim arched a brow at the sudden outburst but only watched as Edward reached up and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes in annoyance. Placing them back on, he stomped over to the chair in front of Jim’s desk and sat down with a completely defeated look on his face. Jim seemed to relax at this development, his eyes rested on Edward for a few moments before standing up, “I’ll get you that stiffer drink.”

“Yeah, you better.” he replied, ignoring Jim as he walked past him toward the front of the office. Edward took his coat and hat off, tossing them in the vacant chair beside him. He flinched; suddenly, there was a large file being slid in front of him by a gloved hand. It opened the folder and flipped through some of the pages before stopping on a pile of photographs. As the hand retreated, Edward began to sift through them. There were a lot more fires than he’d known of. But it was what he’d come to expect: the fires all started on different floors, there were different levels of damage, and they were in all different areas of the slums. He heard Gordon pouring some liquid into a glass, which he placed next to him. Flipping through the investigation notes, Edward noticed that they’d already answered one of his questions. The building’s owners had no connection -- at least that was one lead he wouldn’t have to waste his time on.

“You’re sure they’re all connected?” Edward’s question was directed at Jim, and he hoped he’d take the hint.

He heard Jim’s voice move across from him as he sat back down. “That’s what he says. There are some connections, but not many, on paper at least.”

Edward kept that in mind as he continued to read through all the statements from those involved, noting the lack of actual witnesses. He took a sip from his glass without thinking, scotch, he noted. Of course, he’d have scotch. A familiar address jumped out on one of the pages: Mrs. Hattie’s previous residence. He noted the lack of a witness report from her as well as he took another sip from his drink and removed his cigarette pack from his jacket pocket.

“You think it's arson?” Edward asked, though this question was directed at Batman.

There was a pause before that grating voice spoke. “It's possible.”

“It’d have to be someone who had direct access to every building.” Edward stated plainly.

“Not necessarily. A lot of the buildings have been vacant for an extended time.”

“So there isn’t a lot of foot traffic. I get it, but you’d think that it’d be in just one area. It's up north, south, all over.” Edward slid a snipe into the side of his mouth and lit it with a match.

“That’s one of the issues with that theory,” the Bat said. “It's possible, but someone blending in in that many neighborhoods would be difficult.”

“Unless they’re some public servant or something. No one ever suspects the mailman.”

“It's possible, but there are other theories as well. I’m sure you’ll figure them all out.” said Batman. The tone of his voice sounded rather final, as if he was putting an end to the questioning.

Edward put the file back on the desk, taking a drag on his snipe. “Have somewhere to be, do you?”

“Is that satisfactory, Edward?” Jim cut in, Edward shifted his gaze back up to the commissioner and gave him a tired nod.

“Good. Feel free to take it with you, and give it a good look over. Not sure how many of those folks are your clients, but hopefully it helps.” Gordon leaned back in his chair, and Edward could tell he was about to be put in an uncomfortable situation. Jim rubbed his mustache, giving Edward a stern yet pleading look. “We’re having trouble getting people to cooperate with us on this. The owners of the buildings are the only ones speaking to us, the people who lived there or even nearby don’t want to talk. It puts us in a tough spot, and we’re really strapped on any potential witnesses. That leaves us with just paper trails, and stakeouts to see who shows up at the scene. As you can see, it's not much to go on.”

Edward saw the opportunity for a dig right away, and his eyes narrowed, as he took another drag on his snipe. “Did you expect any other reaction than that? Only a fool would think the people in those areas would cooperate with you two.” Edward noted Jim’s quick glare and held up a questioning hand. “What does that have to do with me?”

Jim took a deep breath, snuffing out his cigarette in the tiny ashtray on his desk. “You didn’t seem to have too many issues getting them to talk to you.”

Edward’s eyebrows raised, a knowing smile crossing his face. “Ah, I see. Were you all tailing me on my bar crawl the other night?”

“Maybe. And you didn’t appear to have too many issues. People were willing to talk to you --”

Edward waved his hand in a flippant gesture. “Jim, they’re a bunch of working people. They get off their shifts, and head to the local watering hole. They only talked to me because they were intoxicated, and, well, because they live in the damn slums. They’re not used to us flashy people who are all over the news showing up in their area.”

Jim raised a brow. “You think they talked to you because you were a super-criminal?”

Edward shrugged, draping his arm over the back of the chair. “Is it that hard to fathom, Jim? They’ve only read about me in the papers, seen me on the television. Or they’ve seen my mugshot on wanted posters plastered around the city. I’m sure they never thought I’d show up in a tiny dive bar in the slums wanting to talk to them.” Edward looked between the two of them, a smug grin crossing his face. “I know you two think I’m terribly dangerous, but you need to understand that to some people, dangerous is exciting.”

Jim contemplated his reasoning and briefly looked to Batman, who nodded in response to his questioning look. Edward’s eyes shifted between them again, and he took one final drag on his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ashtray. “So that’s it, huh? You want me to go bar hopping for you two?”

Jim rested his elbows on his desk, his fingers brushing his mustache. “Do you think they’d speak to you again? Would more people talk to you if you tried?”

Edward shrugged, crossing his arms across his ribs and his ankles under Jim’s desk as he slumped in the chair. “It's an idea. I could canvas the areas, but it will require some door-to-door visits. That’s not exactly the safest situation to put myself in.”

Jim nodded and looked to Batman again. “We should do some thorough background checks on these people, make sure none of them are sympathizers or supporters.” Batman nodded in agreement, and Jim looked back to Edward. “We'll send along a list of people to avoid. I guess we’ll try to take another crack at them while you’re gathering intel.”

Edward pressed his lips together, fixing Jim with a serious look. As long as they were agreeing to do that for him, it wouldn’t hurt to see what else he could get them to agree to. “So, how much am I getting paid for this job? And who is buying my drinks? I’m not spending my own money buying booze for people all night long.”

Jim huffed as he leaned back in his chair, gesturing towards Edward as he looked to Batman. “See? I told you.”

Edward smirked, but Batman shifted his gaze down to him. “You’ll be compensated, Nigma.”

“Oh, you’re paying for it? How do I know this isn’t some scam to get a bug into my office?” Edward’s eyes narrowed, but the Bat didn’t react, still giving Edward that silent, annoying stare.

“You’ll be compensated.” he said again, and Edward let out the breath he was holding. That had been too easy, and he decided to see how far he could go until he encountered some push-back.

“Fine, but there’s one more thing. I’m going to need some help.” Edward uncrossed his arms, draping them over the armrests of his chair.

“What kinda help?” Jim asked, giving Edward a suspicious look over the rim of his glasses.

“Well, some people do find chatting with me to be exciting, but others might need a little push to be more upfront with their information. Sometimes it can take people a while to start opening up to me --” Edward decided to ignore Jim’s eye roll of agreement to that, “and since time seems to be a factor in this, it would be smart to have some backup. Some... persuasive backup.”

Jim frowned. He could tell this wasn’t going anywhere good, and Edward was attempting to manipulate the situation. “Alright then, who are you suggesting be your persuasive backup?”

Edward grinned, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the armrests. “Robin.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Really, Nigma? You’re gonna pull that kinda shit?” Edward could feel the Bat’s intimidating presence grow as the mood in the room drastically shifted.

He quickly held up his hands. “Calm down, gentlemen! I have my reasons.” Both of the men were glaring at him with anger so tangible he felt like he could cut it with a knife, and his mood improved in an instant. “Okay, number one. He’s,” Edward flicked a finger toward Batman, “too intimidating. He’d just scare the shit out of them and they’d clam up. Number two, I’m unwilling to work with him under any circumstances.” Jim rested an elbow on his desk and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Number three, the kid can actually take direction. He has ears and he knows how to use them. He doesn’t interrupt me every couple of seconds. Number -- whatever, look, no matter how much I hate to admit it, the kid isn’t a complete imbecile. He can keep up with me, at least, he seems like he can. He’s not going to slow me down, and I’m sure he can take a clue if things get too sketchy.”

Jim’s expression was still very untrusting, but now he appeared to be listening to Edward’s explanation. The Bat, on the other hand, wasn’t buying it, though Edward didn’t blame him. The more obvious solution to this problem would’ve been one of Gordon’s detectives, and Edward was sure Batman could see right through his weak reasoning. “Robin carries the impression of Batman being involved, without all the messy consequences of Batman being involved. I’m sure he can be persuasive enough with people that might need it, and I’m more than confident he can handle himself when I inevitably piss off the wrong person. It’d only be minimal involvement, I want to be around him about as much as he wants to be around me. Another perk is, I don’t have to talk to him during this whole investigation.” Edward concluded, flicking a thumb in the Bat’s direction.

Jim was mulling over what Edward had said, looking at Batman with an exhausted look. “I’m sure it’s just bullshit, but it does make sense. You two would just be at each other’s throats the whole time.”

Batman gave Edward a piercing glare, “No.”

Edward scoffed. “Why? What do I look like to you? I’m not the Joker --” he quickly held up his hands as Batman’s fists clenched at his sides, a light growl leaving his lips. “Okay fine, that was too far. All I’m saying is, you let the kid follow me around, break into my house, but actually putting him to work is too much for you?”

“Him tailing you and monitoring your movements is completely different than having him be in a situation where you are expected to watch his back. You know that, and you’re pushing my patience.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. They’re just a bunch of people who lay down tar, or dig ditches for a living. It's not like they’re hardened criminals. All I need him for is to be a second pair of eyes, and to be there in case someone thinks it's more exciting to talk to a vigilante than an ex-super-criminal.”

Batman continued his intense glare, but he went back to being a silent presence in the room. Jim let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing his temples with his hand. “Sweet lord, you two are tiresome.”

The Bat leaned closer to Edward. “Fine. Minimal involvement.” With that he turned and climbed out of the open window, gliding off into the night without a sound.

Edward leaned over the side of his chair to stare at the vacant window, surprised. Jim just waved a hand, “He does that, don’t take it personally.”

Edward looked back at Jim as he grabbed his belongings off the chair next to him. “Good to know he’s just as rude to you as he is the rest of us.” Putting his hat on, he downed the rest of his drink with an uncomfortable hiss and stood up to put on his coat. “So, do we schedule our next team meeting now? Next time, do we meet at the bat-signal?”

Jim let out another tired sigh, handing the large evidence file up to Edward. “Nigma, just leave. I’ve dealt with you enough tonight. We’ll be in touch.”

Edward snatched up the folder and tucked it under his arm. He gave Jim a slight tip of his hat as he exited the office, a proud smile crossing his lips the moment the door clicked shut. He headed toward the stairs to leave, a happy air to step as he went. But his good spirits were short-lived. By the time he’d gotten to the ground floor, a sense of anxiety had started in his chest. As he stepped out of the front doors, he could feel the thoughts trying to pry into his consciousness. He tried to push them down, to ignore them, but that only made them press even harder.

After all these months you finally get to see him, and you messed it all up, as usual.

Continue reading:

Ep 9 * Ep 10 * Ep 11 * Ep 12 * Ep 13 * Ep 14

#writing post #Season 1 episodes #Season 1 Finale #Edward Nigma #batvillains #Batman #S1 eps 8 - 14 #zorasublime #fic

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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years

Text

A Leap in the Dark | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. Daniel "Danny" Fenton tried to distance himself from anything that could possibly tie him to magic. However, his world begins to unravel when the powerful Vlad Masters brings charges of witchcraft against him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, descriptions of death

Warnings: Witch trail interrogation and execution by hanging

Parings: none

Notes: Cross-posted to AO3 and ff.net

This entire fic was inspired by a conversation I had on Tumblr

A Leap in the Dark

The old cart creaked and rocked as it slowly moved towards its destination. With the exception of the occasional instruction to the donkeys from the wagoner, the only sounds from its passengers were whispered prayers and weeping.

Daniel (Danny to friends) Fenton closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable. No amount of crying or pleading would save him now, and he’d come to terms with it. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Several days prior, town guards stormed his home and pulled him into the streets. He demanded an explanation only to be punched in mouth and knocked to the ground. Some of the guards grabbed him and forced him into a kneeling position as another took out a scroll.

“On behalf of his majesty, we the guards of Amity Park arrest Daniel Fenton, son of Jack Fenton, on suspicion of practicing black magic and soliciting with the devil.”

He tried to argue with them. The charges were insane. Sure, his parents liked to experiment with alchemy which often seemed like magic, but he’d done his best to keep his nose to the ground once he moved out of their home. What did he do to get someone so upset with him that they falsely accused him?

His words fell short as someone hit him in the neck.

The next thing he knew, water fell on him, jolting him awake. Glancing around, he found himself in a cell. Trying to stand, he found shackles binding his arms and legs. In front of him, a guard with an empty bucket sneered.

Soon after, he found himself brought before the hallmote. A representative of the town stood before those gathered and explained what the accusations against him were. The other villagers yelled and hissed. The representative waited until they calmed to provide the evidence which involved reports of him meeting with a dark someone in the middle of the night at the outskirts of town.

Danny jolted as he realized someone saw him meeting up with Samantha. She and her family were fairly new to the area and affluent. Her parents didn’t approve of him, and there was an issue of different religious backgrounds.

When he had a chance to speak, Danny explained just that. “I just wanted to spend time with my dear friend without worrying about the judgement of others,” he pleaded to them.

The crowd’s anger softened some. Another rose and asked if any further evidence could be provided. Hope welled within Danny. If no further false evidence existed against him, he might be able to walk away from this relatively unharmed.

The crowd shifted as they waited for someone to speak. When no one did, Danny sighed in relief. He’d be able to go home and live his life. He might have to let Samantha know they would need to move their meeting times to make it safer for both of them, but if that was the only thing he needed to do, he could live with that.

The sound of walking broke the silence. Everyone turned to see Vladimir Masters, another recent addition to the town slowly walk into the room. Danny didn’t know what to make of the man. He had more influence due to his merchant money then the local lord which caused some tensions between them. However, he’d managed to charm most of the villagers and the church with his donations and public improvements. He also seemed to have an unhealthy interest in his parents, particularly his mother.

“Ladies and gentlemen of this fair town, I bring you one final piece of evidence,” he announced as he opened his cloak to produce a large leather-bound book. He waited for the whispers to stop before he continued. “When rumors first started, I could scarcely believe the son of my two dear friends could possibly be involved in such things. So, I decided to follow him to one of his supposed meetings with the Dark One.”

Again, he paused for effect. “I watched as young Daniel meet with a strange man who appeared on a dark mist. Afraid for my life, I didn’t dare approach and instead hide behind a nearby tree. While I couldn’t hear their words, I did see the stranger hand the boy a book before disappearing back into the mist. The boy glanced through it before heading further outside of town.”

“Concerned, I followed at a safe distance. He eventually came to the hang man’s tree that grows at the crossroads and buried it before heading back to town. I waited until I believed he would no longer be able to detect my presence and dug up the book. Lo and behold, I found a tome written in a language I could not read. Images of death and sacrifice littered its pages. Horrified, I returned to town with it in my possession to report it to both the guards and the Church.”

“Are you so enraged that you can’t have my mother that you need to frame me?” Danny spat at the man. “Everyone knows the crossroads are dangerous at night. I have no desire to risk encountering the vengeful and dark spirits that make such a place a home. Besides, don’t we all know the Dark One is more likely to appear at the crossroads? Why would I go there after supposedly meeting with Him?”

Masters just gave him a sickly-sweet smile. “How is a simple man like me supposed to understand the logic of such evil? Besides, you have not denied ownership of this book.”

The rest of the crowd erupted. Even through the symphony of voices, he could tell many of them cursed and condemned him. His heart sang as the shouts grew louder. Everyone knew the if the crowd believed your guilt, your fate was sealed. He would be handed over to the Church. If he was lucky, their interrogation techniques would kill him before he would be hanged.

After the official ruling was given, officials from the church entered and took him. The last thing he saw before being knocked unconscious was Masters’ smug expression.

He came to in another cell. Sore and aching, he took stock of himself. Well, as best as he could due to the chains. He didn’t seem to be injured which the exception of a few bruises. The pain appeared to be from resting in the uncomfortable position. Shifting, he tried to find a position slightly more comfortable and warmer while he waited for his fate.

An unclear amount of time later, a couple guards came to retrieve him. They removed him from the chains in the cell and placed more compact shackles on his wrists. Once they were certain he wouldn’t be able to fight back, they led him to a different chamber.

He figured he’d see the vicar and maybe a deacon. Instead, Vlad Masters and some men dressed entirely in black greeted him. “I don’t… I don’t understand…” he stammered.

Masters clapped his hands. “My dear boy, I don’t expect you to, but I should explain, seeing as you are my most recent guest.” He closed the distanced between them after a few strides and began circling him as if he was a predator. “I’m one of those tasked with seeking out who have made unsavory deals with the Dark One.”

An icy chill raised through Danny’s chest. “Are you telling me you’re one of those moon touched under that Hopkins guy?” While Amity Park wasn’t part of any of the large cities, the stories of the sudden upsurge in witch hunts had reached them. Hopkins was the most prolific of the hunters.

“We have crossed paths on occasion,” Masters responded as he continued to circle. “However, we disagree on some methods and share little more than a profession. While Hopkins believes those he prosecutes are truly evil, I do things a little differently.” He closed the gap between them so he could whisper, “You see, I believe people need to fear evil, and to do so, I need to remind them of its existence, whether it exists in that location or not.” For a moment, Danny could have sworn the man’s features warped into something inhuman and evil.

Danny swore as the man moved away. “You… you monster! How many innocent lives have you destroyed?”

Masters just chuckled. “Not enough. My friends, could you please silence the boy? We need to begin our interrogation.”

The men in black quickly gagged him before ripping off his clothes. They gasped and muttered darkly when they spotted the large birthmark on his chest. When they found no other mark of interest, they poke and prodded the mark. They started lightly before beginning to scratch and jab. Eventually, they brought out a small knife and drew his blood.

“He bleeds,” the one muttered. “Surely this is no brand.”

“Perhaps it is an illusion, or his brand is one of those normally unseen,” another replied.

The first one nodded. “If that is case, then we must locate it.” He then made a series of cuts on Danny’s arm. “No evidence here. Please try his back.”

They continued this investigation for some time. Slices were made up and down his arms, his chest and back, legs, and even his face. All of them bled. All of them hurt. Displeased they could find no sorcery mark, they ordered the guards to take him back to the cell.

The cool stone of the dark cell gave him some relief from the stinging cuts. If any one of them refused to heal cleanly, it could mean the death of him. One of his uncles died from a cut that refused to heal, and it was not one he would like to repeat.

After that, the attempts to get some form of acknowledgement or confession from him worsened. The beat him with their firsts and with whips. They burned him with hot iron. They even tried to throw him in the nearby river, but someone interrupted that one. While it wasn’t much, he silently thanked the unknown stranger for the act of kindness.

While he never confessed to any of the false accusations, he did openly curse Masters. That apparently was enough for him and his cronies. The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the Hallmote again with Masters announcing his confirmed guilt. As a result, he was sentenced to hang.

Danny spent the next few days in the prison’s cell. In a different cell across the hall, a few more condemned prisoners also awaited their fates. He heard they would meet their ends on the same day he would. One of the others tried talking to him, but he decided not to respond. Whatever the man did to deserve his fate, he didn’t need a chance to make it worse by speaking with someone accused of magic.

When the day finally came, the guards came to retrieve them. After their hands were bound behind them, they were led to the wagon to be transported to the location of the gallows.

While some of the other men prayed and wept, he just stared at the sigh. He’d made peace with his awful fate. As much as he wanted to blame the Lord, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He learned at a young age that while the Lord could work miracles, He couldn’t always interfere with the evil acts of men. At least he knew he’d be welcomed in Paradise.

Once the wagon reached its destination, Danny allowed himself to glance at the crowd. Many of them were celebrating the day. He almost forgot how an execution could excite the townsfolk. Some were even taking bets on how long he and the others would last.

They were marched into a line underneath the scaffold. After the nooses were placed, the executioners gave the other men the chance to say their final words first. Then came Danny’s turn.

He glanced around in hopes someone might be brave enough to save him. No one stepped forward. Instead, most of the faces visible to him appeared to laugh and jeer. Except one, he spotted Sam who appeared to be weeping.

“I hope that you who falsely condemned me are haunted by your choices,” he stated while trying to keep his voice as even as possible. I know what awaits me on the other side, but can you say the same?” The crowd shouted obscenities at him as his words came to a close, but he didn’t care, not anymore.

With him being the last to speak, the executioner and his assistants began the process of covering his head with the characteristic hood and kicking the supports out from under their feet. Even though he was prepared for death, he didn’t want to die. His weight forced the rope to press harder against his neck, making it harder and harder to breathe. He struggled to free his hands in hopes he might be able to save himself, but with each passing moment, he seemed to be drain of more and more of his strength.

His last conscious memory was to hope Sam wouldn’t be targeted for her show of tears.

... … …

Consciousness came back to him slowly. Feeling groggy and stiff, he slowly sat up. As dirt fell away from his body, he realized night had already fallen. Why had he fallen asleep outside? Had he been stargazing again? After the first time, he decided to use his roof for that purpose as it was safer than sleeping outside the village.

“Danny?”

He jolted at the soft voice. Turning, he found Sam kneeling a couple feet away with her friend and servant, Tucker, standing behind her with a lantern that had an unusual intensity. Both of them watched him carefully. If he didn’t know any better, he would have guessed they were apprehensive of him.

“Thanks for waking me up,” he told them cheerfully as he stood and brushed some of the dirt off him. His voice didn’t convey his feelings though as it sounded gravely even to him. He must have slept much longer than he originally figured.

Frowning as he realized his feet were buried in the dirt, he glanced behind him to find what appeared to be a shallow grave. Disturbed soil with an arm of an unnatural bluish color sticking out of it could be found only a few feet away. He’d been buried.

“Danny?” Sam called out again as she slowly stood and approached him. “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up?”

As he thought about the odd question, flashes of his interrogation and the gallows came to the forefront of his mind. Scared at the implications, he rubbed his throat. The skin felt rough as if it had been injured and pain blossomed at his touch. He had been hanged. Falling to his knees, he thanked the Lord for a chance at a second chance at life.

Standing again once he finished, he glanced at his friend. “I’m glad you came when you did. I don’t know what I’d do if I woke up alone out here. Let’s get you home before something bad happens. Only one of us needs to be accused of practicing magic.” He gestured to the lantern. “You didn’t need to break out the good candles just for me. Actually, they might be too bright if we want to sneak back into town.”

Tucker glanced at Sam, who bit her lip. “Danny, they just seem bright to you. The candle in there is the dimmest I could find. We could barely see where we were going while getting here.”

She wouldn’t look directly at him. Instead, she kept her gaze lowered which was unusual for her. That by itself clued him in something was wrong.

“Sam, look at me. What’s going on? You’re not telling me something.”

“My lady, err… I mean Sam,” Tucker floundered as she turned to stare at him. Even though her parents bought him to be her personal servant, Sam refused to have him call her by an honorific. She wanted him to consider her his friend first and foremost. “Should I bring out that mirror?”

“That might be best,” she agreed as he hesitantly handed her the lantern while he dug through the sack attached to his belt. When he finished, he brought out a black stone and traded the lantern back for it.

“I thought that was supposed to be a mirror,” Danny joked as Sam took a moment to polish it.

“It is… It’s just a special type of mirror. Difficult to come across.” She held it up to him. “It’ll be easier to show you.”

Not sure what to expect, Danny stepped forward until he could see his reflection in the stone. However, whatever person it reflected, it certainly wasn’t him. The stone showed a creature with hair of moonlight and eyes of an unearthly green. Its skin reflected as the bluish pallor of death. Dark bruises were visible around the neck.

Cursing, he stumbled away. Grabbing at his hair, he found stuffs of whitish silver. The skin of his hands matched the color of the creature’s skin. “What happened? What did you do to me?”

“I was trying to summon your soul.”

“I get accused and executed for witchcraft, and you turn around and preform it?” Danny gave a hollow laugh. “Was my death not enough of a warning? And what did you plan to do once you summoned me?”

“I wanted to take down Masters, okay?” she snapped at him. Her gaze fell when they locked eyes. “Not all magic is evil. I just wanted to see if there was anything you could provided to help me make sure he didn’t take any more victims before your soul became beyond reach, but something went wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if I did something wrong.”

“Don’t say that,” Tucker scolded as he placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “The crossroads hold strange powers as its one of those places where mortal and immortal can meet.”

Danny gulped at the implication. He forgot criminals tended to be buried at the crossroads. And even though he wasn’t as superstitious as some, he knew such places could be very dangerous. “So… what did the combination of this good magic and the crossroads do to me?”

“That’s something I don’t really know. It seems to have reanimated you, but you are clearly not as you were.” She fell to her knees as tears began to roll down her cheeks. The Sam Manson crying! Sam never cried.

Hesitantly, he crouched down in front of her and used his fingers to lift her chin. Her skin felt so warm to the touch. “While I can’t say I’m comfortable with what happened, I can say it’s not your fault. You had no idea this would be the outcome. You’re also right about Masters… There’s something wrong with him. During the interrogation, I could have sworn I saw the shadow of evil on him.”

Instead of responding, she lurched forward to embrace him. Not sure what else to do, he rubbed her back in a soothing manner.

“Sam, you’re going to get dirty. Neither of us will want to risk the wrath of your parents.” Tucker spoke softly as he tried to gently pull her off of Danny.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she buried her head deeper into Danny’s chest. Not sure what to make of it, Danny shared a look with Tucker. Eventually, she stated, “I can hear your heart beating. Danny, I can hear your heart! You’re alive.” She looked up and gave him the biggest and purest smile he’d even seen.

“But how? How is that possible? I couldn’t have survived the gallows, and my appearance is of some specter… What the?” As he spoke, a blinding light washed over him. As his eyes adjusted, everything seemed much darker. If it wasn’t for the faint light of the lantern and the visible sliver of the moon, he doubted he would have been able to see anything. Wait, he’d been able to see just fine moments ago.

“Tucker, the lantern!”

Seconds later, the lantern appeared within inches of his face. “Whoa! Watch it! Those metal ones hurt when they hit you.”

“Danny,” Sam’s smile somehow grew wider, “you look like you again! “

“Is that why I suddenly can’t see?” When she rolled her eyes, he quickly added, “I mean, that’s wonderful!”

“I doubt it’s that simple,” Tucker noted as he watched the two of them stand. “You touched death, and that always leaves a lasting mark.”

Sam brushed the dirt off her skirt before she began to walk. “That’s true, but for now, we should return to town. We can figure out what happened to Danny as we work on destroying Masters. He can stay at my place for now. It’s big enough we should be able to hide you for a few days.”

Danny acknowledged that would work for now. Even though he didn’t want to put either Sam or Tucker at risk, it would be easier to discuss the future once they rested.

Perhaps he could even stagger back into town in a day or two just to see how the townsfolk would react. Maybe they would consider his return to life as the will of God. Or, if he could take the form of that creature again, perhaps they’d consider him a vengeful wraith. The latter made him smile. Oh, Masters didn’t know what type of revenge he unleashed.

End of story notes. There are a lot:

Firstly, if anyone would like to expand upon this idea, please feel free. I have no desire to extend this. The plot bunny, now that it’s fulfilled its goal, has run off.

Now for the historical notes.

The hallmote is a court held in a Justice’s hall. In medieval England, this is the lord’s manorial court. For the lord, this primarily functioned for fees and land ownership. However, when it came to issues regarding laws, the villagers acted as prosecutor, legal authority, witnesses, and judge. The lord of the area rarely had anything to do with legal issues.

I know that when it comes to magic, usually that fell under the church’s domain, but I wanted to mention a trial first before he was handed over to them as the accusations against Danny were fabricated.

Moon touched is being used as a euphemism for being crazy.

Vicar is a term primarily used in the Anglican church for parson/minister.

Also, witch hunts and trails did still happen in the 1600s in England – they peaked again in the 1640s and the 1650s due to the English Civil War and the rise of the Puritans.

I did review the interrogation techniques of this time period. While they existed beforehand, the specific ones I mentioned were championed by a man named Matthew Hopkins, who flourished as a witch hunger during the English Civil War. He and his colleagues are believed to be responsible for 20% of the total people persecuted for witchcraft in England between the 15th and 18th centuries. His book is also considered a contributing factor in how the trials in Salem, Mass. played out.

The accused often had their bodies searched for marks which were said to be proof of their pact with the Devil. This was often a birth mark, mole, or other skin manifestation. The area was believed to be unable to bleed or feel sensation.

Hanging. The gallows with trapdoors (drops) weren’t invented until the 1760s. So, Danny is experienced it the old-fashioned way where they put the noose on and cover the head with a hood. Depending on the gallows, the condemned might stand on stools or be on the wagon at first. Then those were removed. Unlike modern hangings which were designed to break the neck upon the sharp drop, the original version had people die by suffocation. Most loose consciousness within 5-10 minutes and death occurs soon after. The title actually is a saying believed to have derived from being hung.

There are some instances where people simply lost consciousness and revived at a later time after they were cut down. Some considered that a pardon from God. Others thought the person made a deal with evil.

Executed criminals were traditionally buried at crossroads. Normally, they couldn’t be buried in a church graveyard, and there were concerns the dead could come back to haunt the town. Being buried at a crossroads helped confuse angry spirits.

Crossroads were considered liminal places where one could meet all manner of supernatural creatures. Some traditions state it’s the best place to contact the dead or conduct spells.

Sam is still Jewish (although secretly since this is the 1640s) in this fic. There are old Jewish spells, which fall under a specific type of mysticism, that call allow one to call forth the dead to ask a question. This is what she was trying to do.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #one shot #my writing #fanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #dark au #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad masters #folklore #supernatural #paranormal #historical elements

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