#i won't lie. the haze i was in was a depressed one. i was. not in a good place At All when i wrote HOMSH

[daddyplasmius]

hand on my stupid heart flashbacks

this is a No One Knows AU & Full Hazmat AU where Danny ended up in the Ghost Zone & didn't go back into the human world initially because he thought he was dead. by the time he realized he is, in fact, at least half alive, he'd already been missing for at least 2 weeks. will probs never finish homsh sorry. i wrote this a couple years ago in a haze & just haven't been able to finish it because i can't replicate the style, which i find is what i love about this fic the most. it wouldn't be the same without it. posting the flashback introsーwhich are meant to be read between chapters/the actual plot, starting after chapter 1ーcuz fuck it. excuse typos & shit, i never properly edited it, as i forgot it existed immediately after i wrote it original description of homsh: Danny Fenton has officially been missing for over a year. Maddie & Jack Fenton refuse to give up on their son. Sick and tired of the police running them in circles, and the case getting colder by the day, the Fentons turn to their last resortーPhantom. 800~ words (full unfinished fic is 20k~)

-

When Danny woke up surrounded by thick, green fog, and couldn’t breathe without swallowing heavy air that was more like water than anything, he was sure he was dead. The portal glowed behind him, illuminating the pitch darkness around him in soft, yellow, warm light.

He almost went back.

Almost.

He was dead. His parents were ghost hunters. They had drilled into his head from the moment he was born that he could never, ever panic in death. That he would accept it. That he would not be scared. So he would be prepared to be brave in the face of death and would not become a ghost.

He panicked. He did not accept it. He was terrified. And so he woke up in the Ghost Zone.

-

Danny went back through the portal when he saw some ectopuses acting… strange. Like they had an idea in their heads. Like they had a plan.

Which was weird, with animal ghosts. He had only been in the Ghost Zoneーmom and dad called it that, he rememberedーfor a couple weeks. Or, he had already been there for two weeks. Or maybe time worked differently and he was there five minutes, or four years orー

The ectopuses went through the portal and, despite everything, Danny went after them.

While he was busy reeling at being home, the ectopuses immediately attacked dad. Danny was horrified. Jack was overwhelmed. Danny stepped in, in a moment fueled by sheer adrenaline and stupidity, snatching a Fenton Thermos™ off a shelf and releasing his shaky invisibility. The ectopuses didn’t stand a chance. And when they were safely in the Thermos, he slowly turned around to dad, ready for the confrontation. Ready for the “what happened to you?” and the “where have you been?” and the “we’ve missed you”.

Dad scrambled to shoot at him.

Danny fled.

His parents didn’t recognize him.

-

The Lunch Lady attacked when Danny was mourning Halloween.

He’d waited all year. He made a costume that summer. He wouldn’t get to go trick or treating with Sam and Tucker this year. Or any year. For the rest of his lifeーor existence. Whatever.

The Lunch Lady appeared in the school and demanded in straight fury, “Who changed the menu?”

Everyone pointed at Sam.

Danny hadn’t known just how powerful ghosts could be. His parents never told him the specifics. Just that they were dangerous.

This ghost grew and her aura hit him like a hurricane, almost physically pushing him back. It was so strong that the students in the Casper High cafeteria seemed to feel it too.

The Lunch Lady was a much harder opponent than the ectopuses. She levitated meat. She used it as a weapon, and seemed to bring it back to life. She created weird meat creatures that grew sharp teeth and claws out of bones. They were mindless, attacking everything that got too close to the ghost. Danny would have run away without hesitation, if Sam hadn’t been in the crossfire.

Danny fought the Lunch Lady. It was a long struggle, but he caught her in the thermos after over an hour. When he turned to Sam and Tuckerーboth of whom he had to save due to Tucker trying to jump into the fightーall three of them bloody and bruised, he cringed. But a part of him hoped. Desperately.

Surely they would know him on sight.

“Wh-what are you?” Sam gasped at him finally.

Danny flinched as if she had struck him. “J-just… your friendly neighbourhood phantom.”

-

Danny didn’t know what possessed him. Oh. Pun not intended.

He just barely caught the Fentons leaving in the GAV, dragging suitcases behind them. He couldn’t help himself. What on Earth were they doing?

They were going to Vlad Master’s mansion for their college reunion.

It was a whole thing. But something was off. Besides all the adults reminiscing about the 80’s.

Danny sensed ghosts immediately but he couldn’t see anything. Unfortunately for him, Vlad could also sense him. It was two days of Danny staying invisible, and Vladーthe halfa? Is that what Danny is?ーtrying to kill Jack. Somehow, Danny managed to fight off Vlad, not turn back, and without the Fentons getting hurt. His secret intact.

VladーPlasmius, also learned about Phantom. And Vlad hated him. The manーghostーwhatever, seemed to only care about one thingーpossession. Of money. Of things. Of people. He was more ghost than Danny had ever seen. Vlad’s obsession was overwhelming.

Danny couldn’t believe someone so much like himself could be so disturbing.

[amateur-author597]

Dear Trauma,

I wake up, I’m always laying in a puddle of sweat. I can’t help but try to fight exhaustion after getting my breath under control and my heart stops pounding but it claws at the edges of my consciousness, I have nightmares when I get back into bed. How do I sleep with these thoughts racing through my head, I could drug myself to sleep and still be exhausted when I wake.

It's like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head and I can't get them to leave me alone.

I just want them to leave me alone.

Alone.

I just want to be alone.

I don’t want to feel alone.

People try to tell me they understand and they’ll always be here for me but they always lie! They want to understand and they want to help. They don’t want to understand! They don’t want to help! It’s too hard! It’s hard to sit there maybe for hours if you’re needed and it’s hard to listen and it’s hard to give advice so they don’t try.

They don’t know what it feels like to have this storm inside my mind and this condescending weight slowly crushing more and more as I try to fight. They don’t know that feeling but they have their own feelings.

Everyone wants to vent, everyone wants to scream their feelings out to the world, everybody wants someone to listen to all their worries but nobody wants to get their goddamn head out of their ass to listen to anyone else!

Anxiety isn't an item you can return at the store!

Depression isn’t an American cousin who goes home after Christmas!

PTSD isn’t a song you can delete from your phone when you tire of its repetitive rhythm!

And I’m stuck with them because of YOU!

IT’S YOUR FAULT!

YOU DID THIS TO ME!

You aren’t something I can pretend doesn’t exist!

These memories aren’t something that just goes away. Time passes and they begin to fade a little but I can’t ignore that they happened. I don’t always remember all of the exact words or sound of the peoples’ voices as they said them, but I remember the feeling that would build up in my chest and fog up my mind every time they entered the room and the feeling of drowning after they would try and talk to me. A single world and I was 6 feet underwater in the middle of an endless ocean of despair

I can barely remember my childhood but that isn’t too abnormal. I LOST AN ENTIRE YEAR OF MY LIFE! TWO ACTUALLY! FOR THREE DAMN MONTHS OF PAIN I LOST TWO WHOLE YEARS OF MY LIFE FROM MY MEMORY!

I was 18 when I pulled a gun out

At the time it felt like my options had run out

So I put that barrel to my chest, and I pulled the trigger halfway

I tried to muster up the courage to put myself away that day

How many times have I wondered about doing that to myself? I was 10 the first time I thought about killing myself, it was then I started being afraid of my own mind. How could something that had once been so pure and so innocent and full of wonder at the world around, a mind in the clouds and oh so joyful turn to something so dark and evil

Some days it's so hard to bring myself to eat although I know I need to. I can’t bring myself to feel any appetite no matter how loud or often my stomach will begin to growl. My head pounds with little to no relief and it feels like a heavy burden to get up every morning. Heavier than it should be. It’s not that I’m tired from a lack of sleep it just feels so exhausting to face the world outside of my bed.

Whenever I leave my house I find myself counting down until I can return home, I hate the way I can feel so isolated in a crowd but so overwhelmed by even the smallest number of people yet I hate even more how I can simultaneously feel so comforted by the loneliness of my own home.

I have friends and I have family and I won't try and deny that they care about me and want me to be happy but I can't bring myself to ask for help. I have to help them fight the fires in themselves but if I drop a single match and I let the fire out I’m scared no one could put me out.

I haven't been beaten, I haven't been raped, I don't get told every day that the world would be better off if I just ended my life, and I haven’t spent my life drowning in drugs and alcohol from the people around me. I’ve always had a home and my parents always tried to make time for me. I’ve been told time and time again that I have no right to complain about my life. Other people always have it worse so anything I’ve been through can’t be that bad.

Maybe that’s true

Maybe I have a good life. But you can only take so much of the people who are supposed to love and care about you hurting you. Over and over again.

At a certain point in your life everyone finds out if they can do one of two things, they find out how they cope with pain in the people around them. Sure it hurts to see the people you love in pain but only some people can react like an empath. Only some people can see through other people's pain and mirror it irrelevant of how much they do or don’t care about the person.

I was 12 the first time I understood how someone can mirror another person’s pain. I was 12 when I discovered I was one of those “gifted” people. God, how I wish that hadn’t been true.

There is only so much you watch a person being torn apart every day on repeat by someone who was supposed to have loved them. There’s only so many times you can hear senseless screaming at someone who doesn't deserve it.

I spent three months crying myself to sleep to the sound of screaming and hiding in myself too scared of the person on the other side of the door. My parents always taught me to stand up for people who are being hurt even if they are capable of protecting themselves but every time I tried I found myself quivering and my breath would halt like I was a tiny animal stuck in the headlights of a large truck, that’s what it felt like. Pathetic. Weak. Worthless.

How many times have I sat there with the same song on repeat for days on end hiding in the corner of my room wondering ‘maybe I’m better off dead? If I was, would it finally be enough to shut out all those voices in my head? Maybe I’m better off dead’.

I tried so hard to fix things; dad couldn't always be home and mum was being killed slowly by someone who was supposed to care. She spent almost every hour at work and you made me become both parents while I failed to keep myself going. My heart was beating and I was still breathing but I wasn’t alive.

You have become an almost normal thing in people’s lives when that should never have to be the case.

Do you enjoy the way you hurt people?

Does it hurt you too?

Why do you hurt us so?

Sincerely me,

“Honey” my mother’s voice breaks me out of my haze of thoughts. I lock eyes with her for a moment until she breaks to contact to flick down to the paper in hand.

“Is that what you wanted to show us?” My dad asks. When I don’t answer he rolls his eyes irritably and reaches to grab the letter only for me to yank it away from his grasp. “Look what did you want? We’re busy so you have to make this quick”, he grunts in annoyance at my actions while my mum gently puts her hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“What did you want to tell us?”

I take a deep breath trying to stop my racing heart and calm my nerves to get the words out, that’s the whole reason I wrote this bloody letter. Everything I was never brave enough to say on a single fragile piece of paper. A single piece of paper already stained in the corner by coffee with some of the ink already smudged by tear stains (left behind at 3 am when I had written it after fighting concentration for hours all for 1200 bloody words). All I had to do was hand it over. One simple little thing.

My fingers itch to hand it over but I can’t.

Something holds me back.

My mother slowly tries to reach for my hand or really the paper in my grasp calmly asking again “What did you want to tell us?”

I pull back suddenly, making her frown and bring the sheet to my chest.

I can’t do this.

“Nothing”.

That’s all I say.

That’s all there is to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So....here it is @the-arson-author-gamer

My last Creative writing task for Advanced English

[denqis]

you up? — tadashi yamaguchi x reader

idk what this is, a blurb?

trigger warnings: cutting, suicide.

"y/n."

he laid in your arms, sobbing, his calloused fingers drilling into your sides.

his usually shiny hair was dull and his bright eyes were dark, lined with even darker circles.

he didn't deserve this, he's the sweetest boy on planet earth and yet here he was, getting used and thrown away like a toy.

"it's not your fault, babe."

you whispered, burying your nose in his locks, his scent lulling you in. this. this was the reason you still held on, even though it took him months to reappear at your doorstep, it was all worth it.

"i'm here. i'll always be here."

"always?"

"always."

that was a lie. a big lie. you weren't there when he scored his first point, you weren't there when he happily announced that him and his girlfriend had made up again and you weren't there when tsukki knocked at your door instead of him to get you to calm him down.

you were in a haze, dizzy and nauseous all the time, the skin on your arms pulsing and inflamed. he didn't care, though. he never really cared.

"y/n, she-"

you didn't let him finish when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your cold lips into his soft ones.

"i love you. i have loved you since forever, tadashi. i can't do this anymore."

and with that you left. not hearing from him in months, once again.

he smiled so brightly, improving and integrating. he was doing amazing, ignoring you on the sidelines.

of course he did. a proper popular boy and his depressed best friend.

this is your basic narrative of every teenage novel these days but tadashi wasn't a bad guy. he was just naive and overwhelmed.

he had called you that night. once, twice.

you didn't pick up, you couldn't feel your limbs anymore, body completely submerged by cold water.

that night, he knocked up a storm, panicked voice mixing in with the white noise flooding your ears.

he stopped. after hours, or after your neighbors had called the police. you couldn't tell, barely conscious.

weeks after that he had sent you a simple text.

"you up?"

you up?

those two damned words. who did he think he was talking to? a one night stand?

truth be told, he was worried sick. he hadn't seen you for weeks but when he came to your apartment that night, the door was unlocked and he let himself in.

he didn't expect you in your bathtub, water tinted crimson with your blood.

he screamed, cried, shattered your mirror in complete horror.

"tadashi."

your voice wasn't even a whisper anymore as he lifted you out of the water, not once caring about your naked, humiliated body. all he cared about in that moment was your survival.

"don't worry. i won't die. i never do."

he stayed with you that night, wrapping you in towels, duvets and his embrace.

he read to you, put on songs and spoken word from your shared childhood, sung to you and told you stupid little stories.

it was as if the two of you hadn't been separated for months and it was as if you hadn't just tried to end it all once again.

"i love you."

you breathed, before drifting off into a dissatisfactional slumber.

you woke up alone. of course you did.

and then, another two weeks later your phone dinged.

"you up?"

this was it. the last straw. who knew two words could trigger something like this?

your cuts were deeper, stung more, even five pain killers weren't helping anymore.

the familiar coldness and dizziness embraced you and you felt your surroundings darken.

finally.

he slipped a simple paper through your door.

"i'm sorry. i love you."

it read.

too late, tadashi. too late.