#only for danny to be like 'nah it's much more dangerous for me out there than it is in here' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redflagshipwriter · 7 days

Text

Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8

Chapter 8

Masterpost

“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.

“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.

Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”

“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.

“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.

Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”

“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”

“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”

Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.

He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”

“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.

“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.

“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.

He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.

“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”

“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”

“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”

“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”

“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”

“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.

“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”

“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.

“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”

Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.

“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.

He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.

He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.

Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.

When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.

“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”

“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”

“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”

“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.

“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.

He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.

“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.

He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.

He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.

“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”

Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”

“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.

Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”

He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”

“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.

“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”

“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.

“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.

“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.

“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”

“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.

“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”

He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”

Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”

“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.

“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”

He paused. He couldn't go on.

“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.

Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.

Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.

He nodded miserably.

She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #dc fanfic

240 notes · View notes

phantomrose96 · 1 year

Text

Haunting

prompt idea from @zillychu, set in the same universe as the rest of the Ghost Speak series (as in, Ryan Finn is here).

...

“Thanks for coming all the way out here, Ryan. I know it’s a long trip.”

“You kidding? A chance to see my buddy Edward, investigate some ghosts with him, and cap off the day with Eddy treating me to a basket of fries? I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ryan Finn answered, one fry between each finger of his right hand in a sort of Wolverine parody. Edward Lancer would say he looked a bit wired from the 9-hour drive, but Ryan always looked like that.

“Still,” Lancer responded, though he didn’t feel all that bad about calling Ryan out here. He traced the rim of a heady glass of beer with his right index finger. Bass music wubbed from the speakers overhead, and in the dim light of the grill it built a small cocoon around Lancer and Ryan. It kept their conversation private.

Lancer sipped his beer, and he was not usually a drinker, but these things on his mind lately had him on edge. And they were so much more potent now that he’d dragged Ryan along to witness it, now that he had another person who had seen it and made it real.

Ryan jammed his arsenal of french-fries into his mouth. Lancer took another sip.

“So what do you think?”

“Hmm?”

“About Danny?”

“Ah, yep, I mean he’s definitely doing that.”

‘That’…was a way to phrase it, Lancer supposed. He’d taken Ryan back to Casper High, room 209, about half an hour after sunset. Lancer had wiled away many a sunset seated at his desk there, grading papers while the sun stole away from the sky. He wasn’t sure if it would happen, this time. If maybe it was a phenomenon only he could witness. But after 10 minutes of standing in silence, darkness cut only by a desk lamp, they’d seen it.

A shimmer. Glowing eyes. A warble cutting air not unlike the bass pumping overhead. It left a shape like an oil stain on space and time, and its eyes found them, and watched, and then shorted away. Gone. It took only another 7 minutes for the thing to reappear, farther back in the classroom, facing the opposite way. A warbling stain, here, eyes, up, staring, gone with a noise that left Lancer’s ears ringing just faintly.

“Am I haunted, Ryan?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Well you or the room. You say it only happens in the room? Then the room, and you too probably, together.”

The confirmation sat heavy in Lancer’s gut. It left him feeling unsettled in a way that all the ghost activity of Amity hadn’t managed to plant in him.

“…So do you know how to make it stop?”

Ryan blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Well, yeah I do but—” He planted a hand firmly on the table and leaned heavily over it, elbow twisting out at an odd angle as he interrogated Lancer with his eyes, “do you really want it to stop?”

It was Lancer’s turn to falter. “I’m haunted, Ryan. Of course I want it to stop. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Only if you think it is.”

“It’s… not bad?”

“Well it can be bad. If the ghost haunting you is bad. Which this ghost—”

“—is not. It’s Danny.”

“It sure is.”

“So why is it happening?” Lancer pressed.

Ryan laughed. “Because he’s comfortable with you.”

Lancer seemed to miss a beat. His eyes shot a little wider. The silence settled between them. Ryan shoved another fistful of fries into his mouth and spoke through his chewing.

“I mean, he’s gotta feel comfortable around you, if he’s haunting you—your classroom—whatever all the same.”

“But why is he doing it?”

“Oh he probably doesn’t know.”

“So it’s not intentional?”

“Nah.”

“And he doesn’t realize he’s doing it?”

“You could ask him, but I’m guessing no.”

“So then… why?”

“Oh hard question, Edward. I mean, why do cats stare at you all soft and squinty when they’re comfortable? Why do rats do that bobble-bobble thing with their eyes?”

“This feels different, Ryan.”

“Trust me it’s very similar.”

Lancer ruminated on his glass for a moment. “Is this normal?”

“Oh, very.”

“And it’s not dangerous?”

“Nah.”

“Usually when you hear about a haunting, it’s dangerous.”

“Usually when you hear about a ghost, that’s dangerous. Do you think Danny’s dangerous?”

“No.”

“Well there you go. Harmless ghost. Harmless haunting.”

Lancer thought about this. “Okay, okay so just—hypothetically—you said you know how to make it stop? How would that work?”

“Oh, simple,” Ryan said. “Make Danny not feel comfortable around you anymore.” He picked up some more fries in his greasy grip. “You could get mean with him, fail him, stop getting his ghost papers translated, stop giving him leeway with the ghost stuff, and bam! I bet this would stop.”

“You don’t think I’d do that, do you, Ryan?”

“It’d break my heart if you did. I’d never speak to you again. I’d disown you and adopt Danny.”

“He has parents.”

“And they’re hunting him. He needs someone in his court.” Ryan crammed the rest of the fries in his mouth and swallowed. “Unfortunately I live 9 hours away. I hear you’re much closer.”

Lancer nodded, and he nodded harder, finding the tightness in his chest easing.

…

5:30pm came sooner than Lancer could have expected. The sun had vanished about an hour ago, sweeping away in a wash of pale pinks and deep reds. Lancer sat alone, halfway through a stack of English tests, desk lamp buzzing faintly at his side.

He heard it before he saw it—the wub of wobbling air. Then the oil stain followed, a shivering shimmering something which spilled into the air, and dropped the temperature a few degrees.

Lancer looked up. The thing’s glowing green spherical eyes looked back at him, mop of pure black hair providing the faintest of silhouettes to the thing’s shape.

Lancer offered it a little wave.

And it vanished.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #mr. lancer #ryan finn #FLUFF. FOR ONCE #FLUFF!!#mostly....

342 notes · View notes

gladly-be-the-good · 2 years

Text

Danny Phantom Ducktales Crossover Part 3

The next time Scrooge saw the youngsters, their parents were trying to sneak into his Manor.

He quickly called Duckworth to his office and warned him to steer clear. Lena wasn't supposed to visit today, so the pesky ghost gutters wouldn't be anything Beakly couldn't handle. She had been informed of their intentions and would no doubt expel them more quickly than she would normal intruders. That went to show how much she liked Lena and tolerated Duckworth, since intruder removal was already remarkably efficient.

Lena hadn't planned on visiting Webby today, but Violet had a Woodchuck thing and Lena knew from past experience that if she was left alone for too long things tended to get… dangerous. So Webby was getting a surprise girl's day. She was going to love it. The way her best friend’s eyes lit up when she saw Lena, never failed to brighten even the teen’s darker moods.

She took one look at the people in front of her first home and pulled out her phone. Two adults were creeping up the tall hill toward McDuck Manor, having somehow gotten past the gates. Duckworth usually took care of people if they started to trample through the gardens. Brutally.

She kept her expression casual as she texted Mrs Beakly and walked over to the two teens who waited as far from their parents as possible. The boy was close to her age, maybe just fourteen. The older girl was shaking her head and constantly looking around them.

"We are going to be so arrested." She muttered anxiously.

"Nah. First time offenders are fed to the shark." Lena said casually. The boy almost smiled, even as his sister jumped in surprise.

"Any shark that could successfully eat all of my dad would immediately die."

"Your dad is absurdly tall. What is he, seven and half feet tall?"

"Two feet of that is fudge. That's what'd kill the shark. Diabetes." Lena hummed in amusement and said,

"Magic shark. I like your style though. What's your name kid?"

"Danny, and I bet I'm older than you."

"I doubt it. I'm fourteen. Almost fifteen."

"Ha. I turn fifteen this weekend."

"I'm Jazz, the only member of this family that has never willingly tried to break and enter." Lena hummed.

“Future president?”

“Not with a criminal record I won’t be.” She was such a Huey.

“People try to sneak in here all the time. I used to sneak in here all the time. Only a few have actually been arrested.”

“That’s…good? Oh! You must be Lena!” Jazz’s eyes lit up. “I’ve heard so much about you! I was actually wondering if you had a minute to talk-” Lena felt all her walls slam right back up. People didn’t want to talk to her. Not about anything good. Not unless they were family.

“Don’t tell me you came all the way here just to talk to me?” Because you’d be lying.

Her eyes were hard and her posture defensive.

Jazz felt the already vibrating anxiety in her chest, exasperated by her parents breaking the law and breaking into someone’s house, someone Jazz needed on her side, starting to match the tempo of a hummingbird’s heartbeat. Desperate, utterly desperate, she tried to explain. To pull Lena back out of the box she saw Danny close himself into all the time.

“No! It’s not like that! Our parents are ghost hunters and they have wanted to come out here since the portal opened. We just got dragged along-” Lena scowled.

Seriously?

Ghost hunters?

Duckworth was in that house. She was in that house. Sure, Lena was more than happy to wreck any supernatural threat to her family, but some of those supernatural threats were her family!

“Yeah you’re definitely going to want to get out of here. Beakley will not go easy.”

The ginger girl looked ready to protest or…cry? But her brother shook his head.

“Leave it Jazz. It’s not worth it. It won’t change anything anyway.”

A familiar accent rang down the slope and Lena felt herself relax. When had she started to think of Bentena Beakley as someone who’d keep her safe?

“You will leave this property immediately! Should you return, and I strongly advise you against returning, you will be thrown into prison without hesitation. Mr. McDuck has elected to ignore my advice that you already be dealt with so severely.” The adults, who honestly looked more like pouting, sulking, kids, were followed closely by a red-faced housekeeper.

“But this whole place radiates paranormal energy! You could all be in very serious danger!”

“And this would be the perfect chance to try out the Fenton Spector Shredder!”

“We are well equipped to handle danger and we already have a shredder. I’ll thank you to leave quietly before Mr. McDuck is given the ‘perfect chance’ to try out any number of security traps.”

In all the time Lena had been alive, so like, a year, she had never seen the housekeeper falter. But when she saw Lena, she faltered. It was easily missed, a footstep out of cadence, a shadow of worry hiding in her eyes. Beakley was… scared for her?

“Lena, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the Saberwings today.” The fear wasn’t quite well enough hidden and Danny and Jazz’s mother whipped out a scanner of some sort. No sooner did Lena see it than a red light started blinking and two voices shouted in tandem,

“Ghost!” Just as the hunter’s reached for their weapons- (how had Beakley not taken their weapons?) -and Beakley reached to break their bones- (maybe she was just having a bad day and was looking for an excuse to break some bones) -a head of bright orange hair blocked her from view. Their daughter stood in the line of fire and they still didn't lower their guns.

Danny started talking quickly, eyes darting to her occasionally with concern and something like hope?

“You said this whole place registers as ghostly. Lena lives here, so it makes sense that she registers too, right?” They were protecting her. The ghost hunter’s kids… were protecting her. From their family. But maybe they weren’t family. Maybe it was like her and Aunt- like her and Magica.

You must be Lena

I’ve heard so much about you

I was actually wondering if you had a minute to talk-

We just got dragged along-

The only member of our family who has never willingly tried to break and enter-

-never willingly-

“That’s a wonderful observation Danny. Why can’t you apply yourself like this to your school work?” His mother’s praise and reprimand reminded Lena so much of the things Magica used to say. She felt sick.

The excuse he’d given for her, it carried the same desperate denial that Lenas' always had, when Magica confronted her about Webby. Her mouth was dry and her stomach was churning.

Danny sounded pained when he responded.

“Just, not as fun as ghost hunting, I guess.” Lena’s heart pounded in her chest.

“He’s a chip off the old block! Come on, son, I’ll show you how the shredder works!” Jazz quickly interjected,

“Wouldn’t it be best to do that in a controlled environment? Where there are no external factors like dust or sudden weather changes or, I don’t know, police officers?” She smiled tightly. Their Dad lit up.

“Good thinking Jazzy! I know just the place! To the Fenton-mobile!” Jack bounded toward the gate, dragging Jazz behind him like an excited, reckless kid with an old toy.

Maddy put her hands on her hip and frowned at Danny.

“I know what you were trying to do just now young man.” She started walking to the gate and Danny followed and Beakley followed and Lena followed, although she couldn’t figure out why she would want to see anymore of this flaming, familiar, trainwreck.

Danny missed a beat.

“You do?” Beakley reached for something at her waste subtly. Lena was right next to her, practically pushed into her side, and she still couldn’t tell what the weapon might be. Maybe it was invisible. Weirder things had happened. Like Lena letting Beakley walk so close to her. Like Beakley choosing to walk so close to her. Both of them liked their own space.

No personal bubbles, ghost hunters, strangers standing up for her, trauma that she hadn’t had to deal with in a record month coming back to haunt her….Yeah. Weird day.

“You might be able to distract your father with ghost hunting but we will be discussing your school work later.”

“Right, of course.” Danny’s relief changed to muffled annoyance. “Of course.” They reached the main gates, still warped from Launchpad’s last crash. So that’s how they got in.

Jazz was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“Hi. Sorry about, all of this. I hope, I mean I’d like, could we start over?” Lena could feel Beakley bristling, but that was just because she didn’t know yet. She didn’t see what Lena could see.

The almost fifteen year old offered a half-hearted, mock solute and said,

“Madam president. I look forward to your candidacy. I’m gonna have to vote against you if my best friend’s brother runs at the same time, though.” If she could vote. And was in the country. And paid attention to boring political stuff like that.

Despite Lena’s lackadaisical attitude, or maybe because of it, Jazz looked relieved.

“Naturally. I’d vote for my brother too.” Danny’s tired expression twisted into disgust.

“Ew, no. If I ever run for public office, assume I’ve been overshadowed, cloned, or replaced by a shape-shifting alien.” Lena snorted but noted his terminology. Overshadowed. Maybe it was a ghost hunter’s kid thing, but that wasn’t a word most people knew.

She gently probed the waters as Jazz started to climb into the mobile home and Maddy offered Beakley a curt good-bye.

“Yeah, getting possessed is the worst.” Her mouth tasted like tar how could a shadow taste like anything- oh yeah it was because Magica wasn’t actually a shadow she was a shadow and she had been all along-

Danny’s eyes widened. He checked to see if his parents were listening before he breathed,

“Yeah. It really, really is.”

“I’d never do that to somebody. Ya know. If I could.” Danny ducked his head.

“If that was something I could do, I might have. If I didn’t know what I was doing or what it felt like or was desperate.”

He couldn’t raise his head. He had found another Halfa and they were going to hate him. He was so good at that. “But I think, if I had, I’d hate myself for it.”

“I’d forgive you.” Lena’s response was automatic. She hadn’t even really thought it through. But in the face of his stunned expression, Lena realized that, yes. She wouldn’t be able to be angry at Danny for anything he’d done in the past. It was like looking in a mirror. Only this time, no trace of Magica was anywhere in sight.

Maddy stalked back over to Danny and said,

“Let’s go. It’s clear that we’re not welcome here.”

“Okay, sure. I was just telling Lena about Inviso-bill. I thought she might have heard about him since he was on some local Amity park blogs and, ya know, the internet gets things all over the place.”

Maddy’s eyes brightened, a sickening similarity to the way her daughter’s eyes lit up. She hadn’t caught the message.

Look up Amity park’s Inviso-bill.

“Oh? That’s wonderful Danny! The more people who know about the danger ghosts pose to the public the better.” How could he live like this? Lena folded her arms and shifted her weight.

“Yeah, I’m vaguely interested. What ghost calls themselves Inviso-bill, though?” Danny blushed furiously.

“Nobody knows that that’s his name!”

“That’s true.” Maddy added, eager to educate the poor Ignorant living part time under Scrooge McDuck’s roof. “There is a lot of information about him that can’t be trusted. Some people in Amity think he’s a hero, if you can believe that.” She laughed and it was like nails on a chalkboard. She tipped her head back the same way as- The goggles over her eyes made them look red just like-

“Okay Mom, we should really head out.”

“Here’s our business card, just call the second number if you have any questions or see anything here that might be specter related.” Maddy handed over the card but made the mistake of putting her hand on Lena’s shoulder.

Most days, Lena was fine. She was surrounded by her friends, her family, and the phantom weight of slim fingers made of darkness faded into the recesses of her mind. Most days, reminders of Magica were few and far between and when they did show up they were dealt with because now Lena knew that bottling it up wouldn’t help any. Now Lena knew she could lean on people sometimes without them shying away and leaving her to fall. Today was no longer one of those days.

She jerked away from the touch and turned around and walked as quickly as she could without running back through the gates and up the hill. Beakley was shouting below her. Then, purposefully heavy footsteps followed a respectful distance behind her.

Eventually, Lena stopped, just shy of the main house.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, voice carefully light but not all together steady. “I am. Just, they’re just memories.” She gripped her friendship bracelets and repeated. “I’m fine.”

“I know.”

The accented voice was soft and coming from her height. She turned around and hugged Beakley, who was on her knees, ready to catch her.

Lena cried and sputtered,

“This is, this is just because I promised Webby, that I’d hug you someday. That’s all!”

“I made a similar promise about a week after she met you.”

“She’s the best.”

“She is.”

After a moment, or a minute or five or ten, who knew? Lena pulled away and swiped at her eyes.

“He’s like me.” She sniffed.

“I gathered as much.”

“Of course you did.” Lena folded her arms and hated how much like a hug it was. She should be past needing hugs. Right? “We won’t just, we’re going to help him, right?”

“Of course we are.” Beakley confirmed. Lena nodded, but sensed some reservation in the former super spy’s tone.

“We’re going to save him, right?” There was a moment of hesitation before her answer.

“Of course we are.” Lena nodded and finished heading into the house. She waved off Duckworth's aloof but worried glances and Scrooge’s fury and awkward attempts at comfort. She just wanted to be alone until Webby got home. She didn’t want to ask anymore questions that would result in promises that everything would be okay for Danny. That nothing would stop them from saving him from his so called family, even risk to their own. She didn’t want them to have to say any of that.

Because they’d be lying.

#ducktales #lena #violet saberwing #duckworth #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz #jazz fenton #bentina beakley #scrooge mcduck #Ducktales #danny phantom ducktales crossover

15 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 years

Note

imagine if at a christmas truce party the ghosts discover that danny has a second obsession of space

Wrote a fic~ *does a little dance*

"Here's your invitation to the truce party," said Skulker, dropping the letter by Danny's head, "and here's the duty list. Pick something." He shoved a piece of paper into Danny's face.

"You know," said Danny, testing the rope Skulker had tied him with, "you get a lot better at chasing me when you're doing it for non-murder purposes."

Skulker scowled, but Danny knew better than to take his apparent facial expression as a sign of his true emotions. After all, the face Danny could see wasn't really Skulker's. It was a mask. One the tiny green jellybean inside could manipulate as he pleased.

"What do you mean, 'duty list,' anyway?" Danny blew the paper off his nose.

"It's a list. Of duties. For people who want to attend the party. You can't possibly imagine that one ghost does it all on their own, do you?"

"I don't know. Some living people are really into the holidays. Wouldn't surprise me if there was someone over in the GZ Obsessing."

"There are," said Skulker flatly. "But going to those parties is risky."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess that makes sense. So, is this, like, a potluck deal, or white elephant, or do I have to come set up, or what?"

"Read the list, whelp!"

"I would," said Danny, "if you held it far enough away for me to see what was written on it. "My eyes don't focus that close."

Grumbling, Skulker adjusted his position.

A lot of the things on the list were already checked off. The rest looked dangerous (fighting the Krampus), time consuming (holly acquisition, with a stupidly high number of branches listed next to it), expensive (providing new holiday table settings), confusing (Danny didn't know what a 'consoda' was, or why he would fetch offerings from it), or simply extraordinarily unappealing (after party cleanup). Except for one.

One that caught Danny's eye because of a very specific word that was included.

"Why's the star all by itself?" asked Danny.

"Because the star is important," said Skulker. "Adding the star to the tree is what starts off the real celebration. A star needs to be impressive. Dramatic! Not one of those little dinky tinsel things you can find at human stores."

Part of Danny knew he shouldn't- But when had he ever listened to that part of himself?

Actually, that wasn't really fair. He listened, otherwise he'd be fully dead instead of just half.

Still.

(The idea of making a star made his skin feel sparkly and fuzzy, like his whole body was half an inch from the surface of freshly poured soda, but all over.)

"I'll take it," he said.

"Humf," said Skulker. "Don't screw up, or you'll be in for a beating as soon as the truce is over." He made a mark by the name and started to fly off.

"Hey! Aren't you going to untie me?"

"Nah."

"He's late," said Desiree, sharply, glaring at Skulker as if he had any control over what the whelp did or did not do.

She wasn't the only one.

"He's not late yet," defended Skulker.

"You shouldn't have given him the star as a choice," complained Technus, his voice squaking like a poorly connected computer speaker. "You should have just told him what he'd have to do. Something that wouldn't ruin the party. He's a teenager! Teenagers are easily distracted."

"I didn't know you were a teen, techie," drawled Spectra, who really shouldn't have been at the party at all, seeing as she wasn't, and never had been, invited. Skulker was hoping someone would find a way to throw her and her little minion out before midnight.

"It's TECHNUS, MASTER OF TECHNOLOGY, CONTROLLER OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC AND BEEPING."

"I am sure Sir Phantom is on his way," said Princess Dora, softly, ignoring Technus's continuing rant with the ease of long practice. She would not be here the whole evening. Her kingdom had its own, separate celebrations, but they wouldn't start for well over half a human day. "He is a very responsible person, and he was speaking to me about stars just earlier this month." She frowned, slightly, swirling the darkly luminous wine in her glass. "That is, I think he was talking about stars. The conversation was somewhat difficult for me to follow."

"Oh, no," said Desiree, putting one hand delicately over a smile.

"What?" growled Skulker.

"It always bothered me a little, you see, but I hadn't realized quite why until just now." She was barely even trying to hide her delight. "The second time I fought him, it was during a meteor shower."

"So?" asked Amorpho.

"He was rather cross with me during the fight. At the time, I thought it was because he was missing that girl's party, or because of the whole memory wiping thing, but in retrospect..."

"Just spit it out already," said Skulker.

"I do believe you gave the task of making the tree star to a ghost Obsessed with outer space."

Inside the suit, Skulker's true hands slip off his controls for just a moment. "Oh, Ancients," he groaned.

"We're not getting a star this year, are we?" asked Ember.

Phantom chose that moment to barrel through the door. "Sorry!" he exclaimed, looking and sounding more like a little kid than Skulker had ever witnessed. "Am I late? No, I'm not. Never mind. I'm not sorry. What do you think?"

He held out the... thing in his hands for the assembled ghosts to view. It was... It was definitely a star. A round blue star. Complete with solar flares and sunspots. Animated flares and sunspots.

"How the hell?" whispered Walker in the background, despite the fact that he and his pink prison really had no room to talk.

"Is it no good?" asked Phantom, managing to shift his weight even though he was floating. "I turned the brightness way down so that everyone could see the details, but I think I could turn it back up again without too much trouble." He blinked up at the other ghosts, and Skulker noticed with some unease that his pupils were currently shaped like crescent moons. "I mean, the other one exploded, but I think I've got it, now."

All of the ghosts slid back, just slightly. Not that they were afraid of explosions, but, well, being cautious didn't hurt.

"Er," said Dora, "what is it, exactly?"

"A star! A blue giant, specifically. Well, a model of one, anyway, but I think it's a good model. I mean, it's a blue giant right now. I've got it set up so that it'll go through the whole life cycle of a massive star. Or, not the whole life cycle, because that would include the nebula, but the life cycle from this point? It'll change color and expand as the night goes on and it uses up its 'hydrogen'- I've scaled the expansion, though, don't worry, it won't take over- and then the core will collapse and the outer layers will be ejected, and- BOOM!- supernova!"

"Ghost child," said Technus, in a more strangled than usual voice, "are you telling us that's a bomb?"

"No, it's a star," said Phantom, blankly. On closer inspection, the crescents in his eyes were not the only modification to Phantom's appearance. He had pale green and silver stars scattered liberally across his nose and cheeks, and similar shapes in the black of his costume.

In the background, Desiree was dying of laughter.

"Don't you think a supernova might be... dangerous?"

"Oh, a real one, sure. But I tested one before I brought this, and all it did to me was singe my eyebrows off, and I was standing really close."

"Whelp," said Skulker, searching for some reason to reject Phantom's 'contribution,' "how is that even supposed to stay on the tree? It's just a ball."

"Oh, it'll float wherever I tell it to, don't worry, I've tested it!"

It perhaps said something about ghostly parties that the sudden detonation of the tree topper several hours later, the subsequent glee of the supposed superhero in attendance when the room was filled with star-shaped glitter and confetti, and the attempted homicide on the part of several glitter-unfriendly ghosts was not the most exciting series of events to occur that night.

#danny phantom #ask #answer #fic

2K notes · View notes

goldenchan-fx2thepeacock · 3 years

Text

Friendly Neighbourhood Phantom

rKay, y’all remember how I said I would write a fic for that one post I reblogged? Well, Wattpad still hates me, but here ya go.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny was bored. He’d finally mastered the powers that decided to show up when he ‘died’ in the portal accident, but nothing was happening. Not that it was bad, just boring. He felt like he should do something. And when he overheard Sam talking about volenteering, he got an idea. “Sam, what was that thing you were talking about volenteering for?” He asked. “Oh, it’s a soup kitchen not far from here. You thinking about helping out?” she replied. “Well, yeah. I was thinking about using these powers for something useful,” “Danny, that’s genius. But volenteering is a big step. Maybe you could just help out people in ghost form?” “Huh, that’s not a bad idea. Thanks Sam!” He ran to class.

After school, he put his backpack down and changed. The first few times it was painful, but now it was a numb tingling sensation. He knew about the more sketchy areas in town and sped off.

He set down in a playground with a bunch of kids. There was one sitting off on her own. She was glumly playing with the sand. “Hey kid, want to play a game?” He asked. She stared at him. At first, she seemed startled, but she smiled. “Yeah! Let’s play hide and seek!” She giggled. He smiled. “Okay, I’ll count to ten and you go hide. Just don’t leave the playground,” He turned around and closed his eyes. She giggled and ran off. Once he finished counting to ten, he turned back around. He heard giggling from her, but decided to wander when looking for her. “Oh my gosh, you’re so good at hiding. I wonder where you could be,” He heard giggling behind him. After looking around a few trees, he acted like he’d just spotted the play structure. “Maybe you’re hiding in here?” He peeked under the structure. She giggled up at him. “You found me! Now it’s your turn to hide!” She ran off to the tree. He dashed into the slide and hid just in view. She spotted him immediately. “Ha! I found you!” “You did!” they played a few more rounds.

They were the only ones left when her dad showed up. “Iliana? Where are you?” He yelled. She dashed out from the play structure. “Right here daddy!” She yelled and ran over to Danny. He smiled at her and waved goodbye. “Iliana! That’s dangerous, don’t play with demons,” The dad snatched her away from Danny. “He’s not a demon!” Iliana said. “I’ve heard about things like you,” The dad narrowed his eyes at Danny. “Stay away from my daughter,” “We were just playing hide and seek!” Danny protested. “And I’m not a demon,” “Preying on children is wrong. Go back to hell,” Danny held back the tears and left. He knew the feeling. Transphobes liked to tell him to go to hell, but this was horrible.

Once he got home and finished his homework, he looked through his insta. Then he got a random idea. He went to the account blurb and clicked “make new account”. He took a selfie in his ghost form and set it as his profile pic. What to call it? He drummed his fingers on the desk and an idea came to him. He typed it in. Danny Phantom. He posted a bunch of anti bullying posts and selfies. He’d take pictures when volenteering as Phantom and put them up.

When he got to school in the morning, there was the usual buzz. Sam looked at him. Tucker was on vacation for a few more days. “So, how’d ‘volenteering’ go?” she asked. “Pretty good. I played hide and seek with a little girl. Is that a good start?” “Sounds good to me. But pretty good with you usually means that something happened,” She knew him too well. “I got called a demon,” He snapped. She grimaced. “Oh, Danny. I’m sorry. What was it?” “I think it’s just the whole ghost thing. I doubt he could tell I’m trans,” “Well, that’s gotta count for something!” “Maybe,” He sat down in Lancer’s class and pulled out a notebook. “Anything else happen?” “I started an account on Instagram for ghost me. I called it Danny Phantom. Should be easy enough to find,” “Don’t you think anyone’ll notice the parralels between that and Danny Fenton?” “The people here are too stupid to guess that. Besides, no one’s gonna connect the dots between me and a random ghost,” “Good point,” Lancer walked into the class. “Alright class, you know the drill,” Danny pulled out the novel they were reading this week.

Danny spent the rest of the week helping out in random ways and putting the pictures up on insta. Maybe it was kinda cheap, but unlike some accounts he’s seen, he was doing it solely for the purpose of raising awareness, not to make a good face. There were a few other derogatory terms thrown his way, but it wasn’t horrible. Today, he was going to start volenteering for real. He set down in front of the soup kitchen. “Listen, we don’t have soup till later. Come back then,” A guy wearing a big apron said. “Actually, I was going to volenteer to help out,” Danny said. The guy turned around. “You got a bit of a look going on there. Why do you wanna volenteer?” “To help out the community. And I can’t help looking this way,” “Huh. Well, get an apron on and help me make this soup,” The guy turned around. Danny obliged. “Uh, you never told me your name,” Danny said meekly. “Milton’s the name. And since I gave you mine, I’m gonna need yours,” “Danny,” “That all? No last name?” “You didn’t give me yours,” “Nah, but the kids like you usually boast about it. For a teen, you’re pretty humble,” “Thanks?” “Okay, enough small talk. Help me stir this while I get the other ingredients,” Milton thrust a long wooden spoon into Danny’s hands and walked off. Danny started stirring the big pot on the stove. He smiled and hummed a little tune to keep his attention. Milton walked back in. “No picture taking? You really are humble,” “I guess it just didn’t occur to me. I mostly made my account to tell people to be nicer to the less fortunate,” (Yes, the first part is a Toph line, but less condesending in this case) He kept stirring but didn’t pull his phone out. “You kids these days. Always an ulterior motive,” “I mean, I’m a ghost, so I could’ve been dead for hundreds of years for all you know,” Milton stared at him. “A ghost?” “Jeez, don’t panic or anything. Not all ghosts are malevolent. And I’ve only been ‘dead’, per se, for about a month,” “I thought it was just dumb hair dye and contacts,” Milton gaped. “Yeah, teenager just casually floats and nothing’s weird about that. Got the ingredients?” “Wha- oh yeah. Here,” Milton dumps the vegetable in the pot. “Sorry to scare you like that. I just didn’t want you calling me a demon or something when you found out,” “Why would anyone do that? Seems cruel,” “People don’t often care about anything but their prejudices,” “Generalization or stereotype there?” “Stereotype. I guess. Let’s just make soup,” He wasn’t about to spill his troubles onto a random stranger.

He stood in the window giving out soup. Sam was standing not far off taking pictures. He wasn’t completely sure if he should keep posting. But it was kinda late to do that now. Danny Phantom had started to gain attention Danny Fenton never would. “What the hell? I didn’t know Milton was the type to let freaks help out,” One skinny teenager in ripped clothes said. “I didn’t know there was a reason to not let a person help the less fortunate,” Danny handed him a bowl of soup. “Sorry man. I guess the stress of having to come here everyday is starting to get to me,” “It’s okay. When Milton takes his turn, wanna talk about it?” “Thanks dude,” The skinny guy sat down at one of the many tables set up. “No problem. It’s the least I can do,” Danny smiled at him. Milton walked up behind him. “I’ll take it for fifteen minutes. Ghost probably don’t need breaks, but I’d feel bad if I made you do all the work,” Danny nodded and ditched the apron. He phased through the wall and floated over to the skinny guy.

The guy looked startled. “You’re floating,” He stared at Danny’s feet. “Ya know, probably could’ve told you that myself,” Danny smirked. “Danny! Is your shift done or something?” Sam ran over. “Nah, I just was gonna let this guy talk about his problems to someone,” “You’re a ghost,” The guy looked lost. “Yes and no. Semantics. Listen, I’m not here to tell you about my weird life. I’m here so you don’t completely lose it from having to support yourself,” “Thanks again for that. So your name is Danny?” “Yeah. This is Sam. What’s your name?” “Jack,” Danny held back the snort that came with thinking of his bumbling father. Bumbling couldn’t have been more accurate. Jack Fenton gave Danny bumblebee vibes. “Nice to meet you Jack. What did you need to talk about?” Sam snorted behind Danny. “Shutup,” Danny slid into the seat across from Jack. “What’s funny?” Jack said. “Nothing. My dad’s name is Jack and you look absoloutely nothing like him. Sam is drawing certain parralels that don’t need to be there,” “Your dad? Do ghosts have dads?” “Half ones do,” Sam said. “We’re not talking about that. Why do you have to come here. You don’t look much older than 15,” “If it weren’t for the glowy hair and eyes, I’d say you don’t look older than 12,” “I’m fourteen,” “Close enough,” “Whatever. Why do you come here?”

Danny became a hit with the soup kitchen users. He’d talk to people about they’re issues with an air of concern. He didn’t shut anyone down no matter how small the issue. Soon, he wasn’t a freaky prospect, he was the ghost who listened to people’s issues. “I think we should get Jazz to help you out at the soup kitchen,” Tucker said one day at lunch. “I mean, she knows, so it can’t be that weird. It’ll give her some field experience with helping people out too. Yeah, that’ll work,” Danny took a bite out of the glowing sandwich. “Are you sure that’s safe?” Sam poked it. “Eating ectoplasm won’t kill me anymore than I already am,” “Touche,” Tucker said. “That’s not how touche works, at least I don’t think so,” Danny replied. “And you’re in academic english,” Sam laughed. “You are too! And english is like, my worst class,” “Fair enough. But yeah, getting Jazz to help out is a good idea,” She forked her veggy lasagna. “Okay! I’ll tell her tonight,”

The soup kitchen wasn’t the only place Danny volenteered. He kept up the random helping and stopped a few crimes when he came across them. It wasn’t like he went looking for crimes, but it came with the territory. He stopped a car crash one time. Danny Phantom slowly became a hit on Instagram. Danny had to turn off notifcations at night. He opened it and gaped. “500 followers overnight! And it’s going up?! Holy shit,” He turned the notifications back off and did his morning routine. It was break day, so he glared at the sports bra he knew he’d have to wear. “If I find that ghost boy, I’ll tear him apart molecule by molecule!” Jack Fenton said. Danny winced. It was normal at this point, but he didn’t like it very much. “Oh Jack. You know we should study it,” He head his mom say. Danny didn’t know what was worse, his dad’s threats of death or his mother’s dissociation. “Dann-o! We’re going looking for the ghost boy today!” Jack said excitedly. “What did he do wrong?” “Nothing, but he probably has an ulterior motive to all this helping stuff!” Jack replied. Danny sighed and pulled out the cereal. “That’s the ecto contaminated cereal Danny,” Maddie said. Mom, that’s what he meant. “Oh, whoops,” He put it back and grabbed a new box. “Why’re we keeping it anyways?” “It’s an experiment!” Mom replied. “You guys and all your ridiculous ghost stuff need to stop it,” Jazz huffed as she walked down the stairs. “But we have proof of ghosts now! And some of them can get they’re hands on human tech,” Jack- er Dad, said. “You mean social media? People could just taken random picture of a random guy doing that and made something out of it,” “He’s floating Jazzibear, that means something!” J- Dad said loudly. “Photo editting,” Jazz knew it was hopeless, but she did it for Danny. “Believe what you want,” Dad grabbed some fudge from the fridge.

Jazz and Danny walked to the soup kitchen. Well, Jazz walked and Danny floated. It was Saturday, so they were taking an all day shift. “500 followers Jazz! That’s crazy for one night!” “That’s great!” “I know. Oh look, we’re here,” Danny sped over to the kitchen while Jazz sat at one of the tables. “Hey, it’s my favourite ghost,” Milton said. “More like the only ghost you know,” “Yeah, let’s stir this pot and make soup,” Milton laughed. Maybe everything wasn’t great, but Danny was okay with that. He smiled and stirred the pot of soup.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And, la fin. Maybe it sucks, but I felt like writing something for this. My first oneshot actually. Let me know if you want more of this! The idea came from a post I read by @redrobin-detective. I reblogged it for those who want to see the original concept. Sorry if my grammar is a little strange to you. I’m from Canada, and grammar here is different than the States.

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #fic #oneshot #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #mr lancer #trans!danny #tumblr accidentally made me post this so now it at least has tags #phandom #au

95 notes · View notes

ghostly-cabbage · 3 years

Text

Frigid (Chapter 4)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends

Chapter Rating: M (Language, Mild Violence)

Word Count: 7,699

AO3 FFN

<<Previous | Next>>

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

Shit, shit, shit. Of course this would happen; a ghost attack two days in a row. Danny's luck was continually getting worse. Maybe someone cursed him. He should ask Sam about that.

She'd probably know.

The soft soles of his sneakers smacked against the linoleum floor as he ran. The halls were deserted, thank God. The likelihood of the alarm being pulled was reduced by at least a little bit.

First thing's first: he had to get the thermos from his locker. He transformed as he ran, the cold passing over him. He felt lighter, leaning forward into flight and zipping through the halls. He put on the brakes as he reached his locker, pushing an intangible hand through the metal to retrieve the thermos.

Energy buzzed through him, filling his ears with its dull roar. It was like adrenaline, pulsing through him, ectoplasm bursting to life to supply his core with power.

It was a familiar feeling—a sensation that used to leave him shaky and weak in the knees but now, he felt it sharpen his mind—power roiling underneath his skin, begging to be released.

Which ghost was crashing the party this time?

"I am the Box Ghost!" Echoed down the hall from around the corner.

Danny's shoulders slumped, and his head lolled back. Seriously? The Box Ghost? He heaved a sigh. Whatever; at least it'd be over quick.

Hopefully.

He flew down the hall and rounded the corner, coming face to face with the self proclaimed "Ruler of Boxes" and "all Square Shaped Containers".

"Why not make this easier on both of us and just surrender for once?"

"I will not do that! Never will the might of the Box Ghost quiver before a simple teenager!" He shook his fist like he was in some cheesy play.

Danny had to focus on not crushing the thermos in his hand like an empty soda can. At this point he had to wonder if the Box Ghost just did this because he was board. Ha, get it? Like cardboard? Bored?

...Nah, that needed more work. He was running out of puns for Boxy at this point. It'd been two years for fuck's sakes.

"Fine. The hard way then. Let's at least move to a more appropriate arena." Danny sprang to action. He flipped forward, bringing his heel down on top of Boxy's head. The force of the kick slammed the ghost straight down through the floor with a cry of surprise. Luckily he'd gone intangible so there wasn't a gaping hole in the floor of the hallway.

Danny wasn't some weak fourteen year old anymore, and if the Box Ghost thought he was going to hold back, he was grossly mistaken. He was having a shitty day, and ghost fights were always the perfect way to blow off steam.

Danny went intangible and followed Boxy down through the floor and into the basement of the school.

The Box Ghost was lying dazed in a small crater of broken concrete as Danny bared down on him. He somersaulted, aiming to slam feet first in the center of his foe. The Box Ghost yelped and went intangible just in time to avoid getting smashed further into the cement foundation. It shook the ground and sent cracks spider webbing several feet from the point of impact.

Boxy rolled away, and Danny had to dislodge his foot from the ground, floating above the rubble. He clipped the thermos to his waist, and pushed energy into the palm of his hand. An ecto-blast hissed and illuminated the dark underbelly of the school in green. The ecto-blast felt like a caged animal in his hand, a nocked arrow quivering against its string in anticipation of being shot.

The Box Ghost scrambled into a floating position himself, and flung an arm in front of him.

"Fear the wrath of… A—Ama… The Amazon?" Following his gesture, a wave of glowing Amazon boxes flew towards Danny. He kept a firm hold on the wild energy, focusing it to a single point and letting it go as a laser rather than a single blast. The beam sliced through the boxes like butter. Danny went intangible as the remnants of the boxes and their contents scattered past and through him, carried on by the inertia.

Whoever took care of the school supply budget probably wouldn't be too happy about that. Whoops.

The Box Ghost grunted with effort and sent more levitating boxes hurling at Danny.

Danny lifted his hand, palm flat. Instead of forcing the energy outward like a projectile he guided it to take shape in the air. A shield spread out in front of him, a wide, flat disk of swirling caustic green. The boxes slammed up against it with no hope of weakening its integrity. Danny rolled his eyes.

He was getting detention for this?

Boxy moved again, trying to come in from the right side with more boxes.

Danny abandoned the shield, dropping to the ground and ducking. The side swipe of cardboard whipped above his head but left him untouched. He shot into the air, rocketing towards his most annoying enemy.

Boxy tried to reel back, get out of range, but Danny was too fast. He caught the side of the other ghost's face in a right hook. The power behind it sent the ghost sailing to the left and into a giant fuse box on the wall. It had already been dim in the basement, but the damage to the electrical box plunged them into total darkness. And with it probably the whole school.

Dammit.

The only light came from the cold glow of their bodies. Danny watched the Box Ghost peel himself off the wall. He glared at Danny with fire in his eyes and with a scream he flung himself back into the fight.

It was like fighting a human. Seriously; Dash hit harder. And Valerie harder than that. Then again, with her suit Danny didn't think it really counted, calling her power equal to a human's.

Danny dodged blow after blow, slipping past the ghosts wide swings and clumsy blasts. He was hardly breaking a sweat. He'd fought the Box Ghost since he was fourteen, at this point he could do it in his sleep.

Boxy let out a frustrated cry and tackled Danny, gloved hands gripping him by the shoulders with a vice like grip. The two of them tumbled backwards, flipping end over end in the air a few times. Anger flared in the pit of Danny's stomach.

"Get the hell off me!" Danny tensed his lower body, coiling up and then snapping like a taut rubber band. He kicked the Box Ghost with a force that would have shattered ribs if ghosts had any. He followed it up with a blast that caught Boxy in the shoulder and sent him spinning away.

"I will not be defeated again by you, Phantom. I'll have your respect and then all of Amity Park's." Boxy sent box after box hurdling at Danny.

It felt like some sort of mini-game, blasting the glowing boxes out of the dark air one after the other. They exploded in flashes of green, cardboard pieces littering the ground, smouldering with red embers.

"Why don't you pick fights with someone more on your level." Boxy was floating closer to the ground, unsteady, and Danny could tell he was spent. He floated down towards him, clenching his hand into a fist and extinguished the burning ecto-energy.

"I'm not in the mood for this anymore. You're pissing me off." The temperature of the air plunged, and his words fogged from his mouth. "Go back to the Ghost Zone, Box. Before I make you." His words were rigid with the threat. He loomed over the Box Ghost, the blue glow of ice building in his hand.

The other ghost held his gaze at first, before it faltered and flashed with fear. Boxy knew he was no match for him, he could see it in the Box Ghost's eyes. As delusional as he was, or pretended to be, he knew.

The Box Ghost turned and fled, holding his wounded shoulder as he shot through the ceiling.

The threat was gone. The space fell silent, but Danny remained rigid, his arms stiff at his sides. His breath clouded the air in front of him in short shallow puffs. The blackness of the room vibrated like white noise around him.

He still felt like a coiled spring, a trap ready to slam shut. He had to go back, he knew he did. Face the screeching music that was his fucked up life.

Was this really it for him? To get detention, to fail classes, to always be in danger? To be pushed around, called a loser by people who barely even fucking knew him? Risking his life for people who didn't give a shit? People that spit in his face the next day? Was he destined to be alone? To never be enough? To be something he couldn't change? Something his parents would never fucking love?

Emotion swelled in his throat, constricting his breathing. He was shaking but not from the cold. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He screamed and fired a blast of ice with everything he had at the nearest wall.

The impact rattled the room and felt like it shattered the air itself. There was the harsh sound of creaking metal at different points all across the room.

He dropped to the ground, his hands coming up to fist in his hair, chest heaving. He stared at nothing, listened to nothing. If time stopped he wouldn't have known it. All he knew was that his chest ached and his head was pounding.

He still had energy. So much sometimes he felt like there was an ocean inside him, sloshing and raging. When he first got his powers, he had gotten worn out in ghost form so easily.

But the numbers and his parents' ghost equipment didn't lie. The more he fought, the more he grew, the stronger he got.

He hated it. What if one day he woke up to find he'd destroyed everyone and everything he ever cared about? Even after everything he'd done, everything Clockwork had done, was Dan still his future?

The sound of the basement door creaking open made Danny freeze. Reality snapped back into place as the rays of a flashlight caught him in its beam. He must have looked like a deer in the headlights, wide eyes snapping up to the person coming down the stairs.

"P—Phantom? That you?" Danny knew that voice. It was Rob, Casper's custodian. He was probably here to check the breaker box. He was a sweet old guy who sang to his dead wife when he thought no one was in the halls. She followed him around, a meek and quiet spirit, hardly visible and with no obsession other than standing next to the love of her life.

Danny winced, glancing around at the sorry state of the place. This wasn't the first disaster he'd left for the poor guy to try and clean up and it wouldn't be the last. He never seemed to hold a grudge though. Especially after the time Danny stopped Bertrand from eating him alive.

Danny held a hand up to shield his eyes from the flashlight. "Yeah. Sorry," he croaked. He floated back up into the air a few feet.

"What— what the devil happened in here, sonny?" He moved the flashlight from the huge crater in the floor, to the cardboard strewn ground, and the huge pile of ice on the opposite wall. But it didn't stop there; Danny watched as Rob's flashlight illuminated pipes all over the room covered in a thick layer of frost, some of which looked like they'd burst at the seams, the water that gushed out having frozen. They looked like some sort of cave feature or icicles formed in freezing rain.

"Ghost," was all Danny could muster.

Rob frowned and wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "An' why's everything frozen? Feels damn near twenty below in here."

Danny smiled weakly at that. It probably was.

He didn't answer, just drifted up through the ceiling, his tail following after him in a gentle streak.

The halls were dark, but not empty. He turned invisible as he emerged and glanced at a clock. It was around the time sixth period let out. He'd been down there longer than he thought.

He sighed, making a girl start and look around.

He bobbed towards the chem room, hoping to snag his stuff without Mrs. Merriweather seeing one Danny Fenton, who was probably in a heap of trouble. He poked his head into the classroom. It was mostly cleared out, a few stragglers still cleaning up their lab equipment. The class wasn't as dark as the halls were, the huge windows letting in daylight.

Mrs. Merriweather was sitting at her desk, organizing papers with a pinched look on her face. He stuck close to the wall as he slunk towards his seat, third table from the front. His stuff was still exactly the way he'd left it.

He reached for his book, turning it invisible as soon as his fingers brushed its surface. Danny tucked it into the corner of his arm, and went for his binder next. He lifted it, strangling back a swear as it sent his pencil rolling off the table. He lunged for it, but missed. It clattered and bounced against the hard floor. He cringed as everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to look.

Nice one. He'd been like this for how long now and he couldn't even manage to pick up three things unnoticed? Idiot.

Mrs. Merriweather stood up from her desk and walked over, brows furrowed behind her coke-bottle glasses. He made himself intangible, floating backwards and holding his breath. Merriweather stooped down to pick up the pencil, examining it, and then looking down at the now empty table. He pleaded silently that she would just shrug and think nothing of it like a shitty video game character AI.

The other students had already gone back to their own business, eager to get out of class. Merriweather lingered, a hand going out to touch the place his stuff had been piled.

Shit.

She looked up and around the room, her eyes sliding harmlessly over his invisible form, none the wiser. She glanced towards the door and then back to the pencil in her hand. She snorted, clenching the pencil in her fist and went back to her desk, her heels clicking on the floor.

He let out the breath he'd been holding, wiping away cold sweat from his forehead. That was way too close. He really needed to get his shit together.

Danny glided towards the white board, sinking through the wall into the next classroom. He kept going straight, headed for the nearest bathroom. At this point he knew exactly where every bathroom and supply closet was in the school from any direction and through any wall. He probably knew more about the inner workings of the place than the people who'd built it.

The restroom was pitch black, no outside windows or skylight to let light seep in. He floated near the ceiling, listening for any sign that someone else was still in there. There was only the distant clamour from outside.

Satisfied the coast was clear, he touched down softly in a stall, and let the warmth of his human side surge inside him. He closed his eyes against the blinding light of his transformation. Slowly the sensations of being human came back to him, the heaviness of gravity pulling on his limbs. The general ache of having a physical form.

He swayed on his feet, slumping against the stall wall for support as tiredness hit him like a train. It was all catching up to him: the exhaustion, the hunger, the sharp pain pushing at the back of his eyes. He should have eaten more at lunch

His ghost half didn't suffer much from lack of sleep or food. He had his core and the surplus of ectoplasm and didn't have to feel how heavy and shaky his body was. How fragile. How weak.

Danny stayed like that for a few seconds, mentally preparing himself to leave, for people to see him.

When he'd built up the nerve, he walked out. Like always, he went to his locker. Sam and Tuck were waiting there for him.

"Box Ghost?" Sam asked, amusement coloring her voice. But when she looked at him closer, her face fell. Worry was a familiar look on her. "Are you okay, Danny? What happened?"

"Yeah, you look like shit dude."

"Gee, thanks." Danny stood in front of his locker and dropped his forehead against its cool metal surface with a thunk. He hadn't been ready to come out after all. Weirdly, he wished he was back down in the basement, where it was cold and quiet and he wasn't under anyone's scrutiny.

"It was just the Box Ghost though, right? He's all the scanner picked up. Well, other than you, obviously," Tucker said.

Danny didn't answer right away. Instead he closed his eyes, focusing only on the place where his head pressed against his locker. He took a deep breath. Tried to get his mind to stop whirling. He just had to push through it like he always did.

A hand on his shoulder, rubbing up and down slowly, reassuringly. He turned his head and opened an eye to see Sam looking at him. Her eyes were troubled and a frown tugged at the corners of her bold purple lips.

"Did the power outage have anything to do with the fight?" Sam asked.

"It's fine guys. Promise. Just Boxy. We played the game, I kicked his ass, he went home with his tail tucked between his legs." He shrugged and leaned away from his locker. He started spinning the padlock. Sam removed her hand.

Danny put the thermos on his shelf and forced a laugh. "Yeah, uh… Kinda punched Boxy into the breaker box. Like, really really hard. The thing is probably so fucked."

"Dude, nice! Hopefully they'll release us early because of—"

"There you are, Fenton."

It wasn't Dash, but Danny still stiffened. He turned to see Wesley Weston storming up to them. Even in the dim emergency lights, he'd know that stupid redhead anywhere.

"What the fuck, dude? Where the hell were you?"

Danny grimaced. Great, just what he needed. Another person on his case. "Uh, the bathroom?" Playing dumb was the easiest, most effective option. Sam and Tucker turned towards Wesley, a barrier of sorts between them.

"For like twenty minutes? Yeah, right, like I'd believe that." He glanced at Sam and Tuck, before his gaze landed back on Danny, eyes like flint. "I'm onto you," Wesley spat. For a second those words made his heart skip. "You ditched class just so you didn't have to do the stupid lab, didn't you?"

Oh thank God.

Danny said nothing, looking off to the side before looking back at Wesley. He was going for nervous, sheepish even, as if he'd been caught. It seemed to work. Wesley growled in frustration.

"Unbelievable. What's even the fucking point of skipping? Not like you can use the shit anyway, I'm the one that has to do everything." Wesley adjusted his grip on his books to rub his temples. "Listen, okay? I'm not thrilled to be stuck as your lab partner either. But unlike you, I'm not an asshole and I wouldn't just fuck off and leave you high and dry. So don't do it to me, got it? Great." Before any of them could say anything, Wesley Weston turned and walked off.

They all stared after him.

"Holy shit, what the hell's his problem?" Sam asked.

"No clue, but that dude's definitely got some major issues, man," Tucker said.

Danny shook his head. He didn't have the energy to deal with this. "Come on, let's get to class. I wanna go home."

***

They ended up getting released forty minutes early. The breaker box was beyond simple repair, which meant the whole building was without power until tomorrow at least. There was also the burst pipes. Danny told himself he shouldn't feel guilty, but he did anyway.

He got home and made his way up to his room, dropping his bag to the floor by his desk with a thud. He stood in the middle of the room, staring at his bag. His head was static. Without thinking, he pulled out his desk chair and rifled in his bag, pulling out whatever the fuck homework he grabbed first.

Ugh.

Algebra.

Whatever.

All he needed to do was put the pencil to the page. Just that. The first thing. Write his goddamn name. He knew that one, right? His eyes skipped down the page to the first question. The black text stood out boldly from the bleach white computer paper it was printed on. The numbers and letters swam in front of his eyes as he tried to make heads or tails of what the hell it wanted him to do. The longer he looked the harder it was to keep his mind on homework.

He wondered if the Box Ghost had listened and gone home. He hoped so, he had enough to worry about with the new ghost he'd failed to track down yesterday. With any luck she'd gone back too. It reminded him that he still had to empty that big cat ghost from the thermos back into the Ghost Zone. It wasn't anywhere near full capacity, but it was risky to carry around a ghost or keep one in his locker for extended periods. His eyes fell to the gleaming metal cylinder poking out from his bag. He would do it now, but his parents were down in the lab, probably working on their newest paper on the ghost threat level. He really didn't want to have to face the fifth degree for where, how and why he'd caught a ghost.

He stared back down at his homework. The same question stared back, taunting him. He scribbled down the equation, hoping it'd click if it was in his own handwriting. He gazed at the mix of rigid and heavy left-slanted variables of the expression in his writing. He still had no clue what to do next. That was fucking pointless.

He groaned in frustration, resting his elbows on his desk and holding his head in his hands.

Why did math have to be so fucking hard?

Ugh, fuck it. He'd just cheat off Sam's homework tomorrow.

Like always.

He leaned back in his chair, hanging his head back to look up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers stuck to his ceiling. A smile worked it's way to his face as he looked at them. The memory of the first stars to decorate his ceiling came to mind.

He was six and his Dad helped put them up. His parents knew how much he loved space, and even if it wasn't ghosts, they wanted to nurture his love for science. His Dad had hoisted him up on his shoulders, giant hands around Danny's ankles to keep him steady as he slapped the stars up with reckless abandon. He remembered bouncing around on his bed in anticipation of turning the lights off to see them glow.

He fell asleep under the stars for the first time that night.

These weren't the same stars. The original ones lost their glow after the years, pale green outlines that stopped sticking and fell down one by one in the middle of the night.

For his fourteenth birthday, Jazz bought him another pack. He hadn't put them up right away, lost under a pile of gifts, and forgotten in the bustle of summer fun and then starting high school a few months later.

Then he had his accident. Everything was different then. If he didn't have time to put them up before, he definitely didn't after he took on the role of Protector of Amity Park.

It wasn't until Danny was laid up in bed after defeating Pariah Dark, and Jazz took it upon herself to tidy up his room that she found them stuffed into one of his desk drawers. She hid them from him and excused herself to do some studying.

A few days later she returned, excited as could be with a gift in her hands. She dropped it onto his lap, and dismissed him when he tried to object to deserving a gift. He tore the wrapping paper off an clearly recycled shoe box. Upon lifting the lid he saw the bright glowing green stars. The light wasn't that of cheap glow in the dark plastic. It was radiant and bright, it almost looked like… He looked up at her, confused and delighted.

Jazz jumped at the chance to explain. She told him how she'd recruited the help of Sam and Tucker and a bit of their parents' technology to fabricate new glow-in-the-dark stars. Special ones, made especially to activate in the presence of ecto-energy. She excitedly reported that because they were powered by the nearest source of ectoplasmic energy, aka him, they would always glow, never fade.

Jazz would totally lie when asked and claim that he had started to cry, but what did she know? He was just squinting because they were bright. Crying? Not him.

Danny had been going crazy with nothing to do. He grinned, and tried to push himself up, wincing from the pain and dizzy from the effort. Jazz had put a hand on his shoulder and told him to tell her where to put them, and she would do it.

A few minutes later Jazz was standing on his desk chair, holding a star between her fingers, moving a few inches left to where he pointed.

He had his constellation map unfolded on his lap. She was placing the final star of Leo. With the help of his sister and under his direction, his ceiling and walls became a map of the stars. They only had room for his favorites though, Virgo was by his closet, Orion above his bed, Ursa Major by his door and Aries next to Leo adjacent to his desk. Jazz snagged three from the box and said it was about time Sam, Tucker and her had a fool-proof way to tell if he was sneaking into their rooms. Bed-ridden as he was at the time, there was little he could do but let it go. It would be harder to prank his friends sure, but it made him feel better. His friends had a "ghost sense" of their own in the form of a little star stuck to the wall in their rooms.

The memory felt warm in his chest as he stared up at the faintly glowing stars. He spun his chair in circles, stopping only when he felt dizzy. The stars glowed far brighter when he was Phantom or he used his powers, but all it took was a little practice and he learned how to brighten and dim them however much he wanted.

The buzzing of his phone inside his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. At first, he thought it was just a message in the groupchat—Tucker sharing a meme or something. But it kept going; a call, then. Danny reached into his pocket and pulled it out. The screen was lit up with an in-coming call from "Know-it-All". Danny smiled. Think of the Devil and she shall appear. He accepted the call, putting it up to his ear.

"Sup, Harvard."

"Danny!" Her voice was warm and full of life. She sounded happy. "I wanted to call and see how my baby brother was doing."

Danny snorted. "Oh you know, same ol', same ol'." He got up and closed his bedroom door. The line was quiet for a second.

"You sound tired, Danny. Have you been sleeping? Before I left, we had a talk specifically about the detriments to health caused by a lack of sleep."

Danny plopped back into his desk chair and gave it a spin. "Jeez, Jazz. Chill out, I know."

"Knowing and doing are two different things, Danny."

He couldn't fault her for caring. It was nice. In an annoying sister way. Still, discomfort prickled over his skin whenever people worried about him. He was fine.

"What about you? All settled into the big college life?"

Her voice went up an octave, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Oh, God, Danny. It's everything I hoped for and more! The library is huge and there's so much information and so many clubs! Believe it or not, there's actually a ghost and paranormal science club."

"Did you join it?"

"You kidding? You're talking to the new vice president, mister."

Danny chuckled. "Coulda guessed. How's your roommate? She hasn't tried to kill you yet, has she?" Danny pushed on the floor to continue the chair's turning.

"Why, pray tell, dear brother, would she want to kill me?"

"I don't know, prolly 'cause you're like the most annoying person ever." Over the past two years Jazz and him had really "grown and moved past the hurt feelings". That's how she phrased it, anyway.

"Meeean! Come on, I'm not that bad."

"Okay, agree to disagree. Have you psychoanalyzed her yet?"

"Danny!" She chided. "I can't believe you!" She was silent for a second. "Of course I have. Abandonment issues and most likely an anxiety disorder."

Danny's laugh came easy this time. Same old Jazz. He hoped she never changed.

"Damn, sounds serious, have you recommended that she get help yet?"

Jazz giggled. "I do have some tact, you know. I'm going to wait until we've known each other at least a month for that."

"Totally, don't wanna scare her off too soon."

"Exactly!"

The line dipped down into a staticky silence. Jazz cleared her throat.

"What about you? Any new friends added to your trio to take my place?"

"Psh, now you really do sound crazy."

"Danny, I mean it! Having a support network is really important, and don't get me wrong Sam and Tucker are great, but they can only do so much."

"Like anyone in that place would ever be seen with me in broad daylight unless they have to."

Jazz sighed. It was her "disappointed"/"you have to grow up someday" sigh.

Danny pushed a hand through his hair. "Listen, if it makes you feel any better I have made a new mortal enemy. So I'm feeling pretty good about that, a lot of potential there."

"Danny, why on earth would that make me feel better?"

"I dunno, because I'm gaining life experience? Well, half-life experience. Heh."

"I just don't know what to do with you." Danny could hear the smile in her voice. "So, how'd you make this new enemy?"

Danny groaned. He dropped his leg and caught the ground with his foot, the residual momentum of the chair tugging at him in protest. He stood and took the two steps to his bed. Danny let himself fall onto the mattress. His sheets smelled like fabric softener, and a mix of warm smells that he could only describe as "sleep".

"We're lab partners in chemistry. He's some jock B-lister guy and he hates me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know, could be the fact that he marched up and called me an asshole right to my face today, or that from day one he saw how everyone else treated me and decided to jump on the bandwagon."

Jazz made a small sympathetic sound. "Oh, Danny, I'm sorry."

Danny pressed his face into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. The last thing he wanted was pity. Especially from Jazz. He was fine. Really, this was no different to any other year.

"It's fine," he mumbled, lifting his head from his pillow. "It's not like I suddenly care what people think. Guy's just a dick."

Before Jazz answered, the sound of someone talking to her filtered through. Danny couldn't quite make out what was being said.

"No, it's fine. I'll walk with you," Jazz said, her voice muffled. Her voice returned: "My roommate just got back, I've gotta go, but we're not done talking about this, alright?"

They absolutely were.

"Yeah, Jazz. Have fun going wherever you're going."

"We're walking down to get dinner. Which, speaking of! Make sure to eat dinner, okay? I love you."

"Ew."

"Danny."

"Uuuughhh. Okay, fine, I… I love you too."

She laughed, the line beeped, and then she was gone. It left an empty space in the room, in the house. Danny was no stranger to cold, it was part of him. But the past month had been a different kind of numbing ice. The sight of her door left sitting ajar at the end of the hall, knowing there was nothing but a dark lifeless room concealed within. It was an echo, a ghost in it's own right. An unyielding wall and even he had no way through. He thought he'd be glad to get her out of his hair. He didn't expect the jagged and torn space she'd left behind.

Danny wasn't used to missing anyone but himself.

He pushed out a breath, and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyelids. He didn't want to think about it.

Danny left his phone on his bed, and went down to see what Mom was making for dinner.

***

Danny stared up at the ceiling. The ecto-stars, as Sam called them, shed a constant soft green from their places in a sea of black above him. Ghosts loved three AM, for whatever reason it was always the time they liked to attack. Then again, there wasn't really a sense of time in the Ghost Zone, so it made sense that attacks happened at any time.

But tonight was quiet. There had been no chill up his spine, no ghost sense to pull him from the emptiness of sleep. So he was just staring, trying his best to not think about what happened at school. If Sam and Tucker would have been around maybe he wouldn't have lost it like that... Or maybe he would have and he'd have had to deal with the worry saturating their expressions, the fear on the edges of their words. Fear that they couldn't help him, couldn't save him. They would have made him come home, called Jazz and told her about what happened.

His sister doubling as his therapist was a conflict of interest, but he didn't dare tell her he felt that way. She was just trying to help, to be useful. They all were.

Tossing and turning, fighting his covers, flipping his pillow around to the cool side—nothing helped. He checked the time. 3:29.

Great.

Frustration ate away at him as the minutes pressed on, unforgiving and slow. It was torture, listening to his own sluggish heart beat. He was sweating, the back of his pajama shirt stuck to his damp skin. His room didn't feel as cold as it normally did.

He laid there until he felt like punching something. That's when he flung his covers aside with a growl. He forced himself up and trudged over to his door, leaving his room. He closed his door behind him, figuring he'd just phase back in whenever he'd decided to give sleeping another shot.

He meandered to the bathroom, rubbing a hand over his face. The door creaked gently as he pushed it open. He didn't flip on the light. The ambient brightness from the night light down the hall was more than enough. Another perk to being half-ghost: extraordinary night vision.

The water hissed as he turned it on and he cupped his hands underneath the cold stream. He splashed the water into his face, the sensation jarring him from his frustration and demanding his full attention. The water overflowed from his hands and ran in trails down the backs of his hands, following the downward slope of his forearms and dripping off his elbows.

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Rivulets of water dripped off his eyebrows and ran down over his flushed cheeks like tears. His hair stuck out at odd angles—a mess from not bothering to dry it before he went to bed. He raked his fingers through it, trying to get it to sit normally and not hang in his eyes. His bangs stuck to his forehead and against his temples, whether it was slick with water or sweat at this point he didn't know.

He leaned forward against the sink, examining the dark bags underneath his eyes. He looked about how he felt.

Shitty. Real shitty.

He yanked a fluffy hand towel down from the hook and pressed it to his face, dabbing off the water. He dried his hands next, then started to wipe his forearms. He dragged the towel over the skin of his right arm and moved to do the same to his left before he froze mid-way. His eyes were fixed to the usually covered skin of his forearm.

He could see them, he realized belatedly.

The wandering forked scars that snaked up his arm.

He set the towel down slowly and reached over to run his fingertips over them, entranced. The raised, ugly skin detailed the exact path the electricity had taken as it tore through his body. A single second in time tattooed permanently on his skin. The scars were lighter— a bit less visible in his human form as opposed to when he was Phantom. But still there nonetheless.

His breath stuck in his throat. The air was sticky. His stomach clenched and a wave of dizziness crashed through him. The room spun at the edges of his peripheral vision and he felt like he was being shoved through the Fenton Ghost Catcher. Like he was overshadowing himself, and as he pulled away he was forgetting what it was to occupy a body.

A pervasive numbness took up the space he'd previously been a part of. There was a soft pillowy comfort in the disconnect. He blinked down owlishly at his arm, like it wasn't his and he didn't recognize it. His hand moved and he traced the scar, up and down, faintly aware of the memories banging at the back of his consciousness like someone trapped under ice. It was muffled and distorted, the sound of someone screaming and a dryness in his throat.

Seeing them— the scars— It… It…

A deafening crack filled his head and his vision with white. The pain seared through him, consuming every nerve in its path. His heart seized in his chest, held hostage to the electricity overriding the signals of his brain. It was tearing him apart—It was hurting him—killing him, killing him, killing him.

Danny stumbled back, his back slamming into the wall and snapping him back into the present moment. His chest was heaving, his throat tight. His hands trembled and his eyes darted down. He half expected to see the cold steel of the lab's floor underneath his feet and feel Sam's hands slip through his vaporous form.

His heart beat so hard it hurt. With every pound it felt like needles were being pushed through his skin from the inside out. It ached, raw and unable to ignore. Zings of faint electricity zipped up his arm and across his chest.

Danny's knees shook and he slid down the wall. He choked back something that felt like a sob and he kicked the bathroom door closed before pulling his knees up to his chest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Why the fuck did he do that? He knew better than to look, to linger on anything that—

Fuck.

He felt hot, like he was burning up on the inside. Shaking, he tried to reach for his core, to offer a path for the energy to flow. He wanted it to be cold, it had to be cold. The cold felt nice, the cold was safe. Cold didn't burn or thrash, it was slow and steady and everything the electricity wasn't.

He tried to coax the cold forward, convince the space around him to change with nothing more than his own will. It hurt, it felt like dragging himself through broken glass trying to get the phantom pains to fade into cool relief.

He huddled against the wall, twisting his fingers into the fabric of his sweatpants. His eyes stung and the breath in his throat stuttered painfully on every inhale.

The worst part of it was he had no one to blame but himself.

People at school assumed his switch to hoodies and long sleeve shirts was because Sam had finally gotten to him and turned him goth. The truth was: he hid his scars the way any other kid did.

He waited until the pain felt dull and distant and the air felt sharp. He tipped his head back, tired eyes roaming across the bathroom before landing on the frosted over mirror.

Two breakdowns in one day, huh? Not his personal record by any means, but it had been several months since he'd had one... So. That had to count for something, right?

Slowly, carefully, he started to reign back the cold in the room. When he stopped shaking, he pulled himself to his feet, a hand against the wall for support in case his knees buckled. He didn't wanna be in the bathroom anymore, it felt too small and confined. Danny had figured out one too many times in the Fenton thermos had a tendency to cause claustrophobia.

He opened the door and shuffled out into the hall, the cuffs of his sweatpants whispering across the carpet. His thoughts carried him past his room. Maybe a snack would help, or going for a quick flight around town.

He was debating it, when another idea murmured from the back of his mind. He started down the stairs, floating over a few of the steps that he knew creaked. The house was silent, his parents asleep. He walked through the dark living room, then the kitchen, bare feet padding over the cold tile.

He found himself at the top of the stairs, staring down into the dark basement. It was funny, basements were supposed to be scary. It was like his parents heard that and had to one up everyone else. "Oh, you have a basement where the light flickers and rusty nails poke up from the floorboards? Creepy! We have a portal to the literal dimension of the dead and ghosts crawl out about every twelve hours!" Hollywood would have a field day with their family if they heard about Amity Park.

Danny walked down the stairs, the metal cool and familiar. The lab was dark, the control terminal against the wall the only light.

The portal was closed.

He stood in the center of the lab, looking at the imposing octagonal outline in the dark. Even after so long, it still inspired wonder in some deep part of him. It made him feel like a kid.

He walked up to the control terminal, pressing his thumb into the biometric security pad. With a whirr the security system accepted his input and with a heavy mechanical sound the portal doors slid open.

Green light flooded into the lab, bathing every surface in its shifting toxicity. Danny took a few steps back, taking in the portal and its marbled surface. He looked at it like he was indulging, doing something he shouldn't.

The spike of ecto-energy in the room was almost palpable. He could feel it buzzing against his skin, floating in the air like static electricity.

Carefully, Danny lowered himself to the floor and sat down. He sat and basked in the light of the portal, the hum, the lurching and swirling.

Visiting a gravesite was a sacred thing, it was someone's place of eternal rest.

But ghosts proved that not everyone was at rest. Danny certainly wasn't, but that was pretty evident, he was still technically living after all.

Whenever he felt… disconnected like earlier, he liked to come down and visit the portal. It helped remind him exactly who he was. What he was.

It was like a tether, a point of reference. It was grounding for Danny; as much a reminder he was alive as he was dead.

The portal killed him... but it also brought him back.

The Phantom part of him saved his life. He wondered if that's why his obsession was what it was; saving others because he wouldn't wish the experience of death on anyone. It was both his obsession and his responsibility. He was the reason the portal worked, and he'd be damned if anyone else paid with their life for his mistake.

Sam still blamed herself. How could she not? He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him, the guilt squirming in their depths.

But he didn't blame her, and he figured as long as it stayed that way, eventually Sam would forgive herself.

If anything, he blamed himself for being curious, for being the son of the Fentons, for every time someone got hurt on his watch.

Danny watched the mirage of the portal, finding shapes in the swirls like a child looking at clouds.

He did it until his eyelids grew heavy, and he felt the tension in his shoulders slowly bleeding away.

Too lazy to walk, he floated up through the ceiling and into his bedroom. The stars brightened at his proximity, before dimming again when he stopped using his powers. He crawled back into bed and shut his eyes. Sleep came to him gently, pulling him down, and down and down...

#danny phantom fanfiction #Danny phantom #wesley weston #Sam Manson #tucker foley #phanfic #frigid chapter 4 #my writing #frigid #Danny fenton

24 notes · View notes

kattythingz · 3 years

Text

How Bright You Are, Brilliant Dream [Preview]

Established Jock!Phantom x Astronerd!Danny

Words: 725 / 12,160

Phantom is used to people defining his entire character in one word: jock. He hates how superficial it is, but he’s accepted long ago that people associate the word with a mold that doesn’t fit him at all.

But there are people that know Phantom better than that. Like Kwan, who knows him as a best friend; annoying and silly at times, but caring and loyal at other times, never one to walk away when his friend needs him. And Kwan knows that. He makes fun of Phantom, even openly laughs when all he wants to do is sink into the ground out of embarrassment, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dependable.

Phantom knows his best friend, and he knows that, despite all the times he’s wanted to throw a football at Kwan’s head, he’s always there for him, and always will be.

And for the longest time, Kwan was the only one.

And then, one faithful day during sophomore year as he was pathetically struggling to open his locker, he met him. With eyes as blue as the sky and hair as black as the night, he was the cutest boy Phantom had ever seen.

His name was Danny, and for an entire year, it seemed like he was just a dream. Something so beautiful and perfect that Phantom could never touch. So, he pined from a distance and enjoyed the dream as best as he could.

But then, the dream was no longer a dream. Then the dream became a reality. Then Danny became his boyfriend.

And not only that, but he also joined Kwan on Phantom’s list of trusted friends! Danny made it look so easy to just look past his label and right into his heart. Made it look so easy to smile at Phantom, even when he broke every jock stereotype known to man.

No, that’s exactly why Danny made the list. Because, just like Kwan, he looked past the rumors. But this time, it’s different somehow. Kwan is a fellow jock, so he understands Phantom’s position, but Danny is, as the school would dub him, a nerd. Phantom had honestly expected the warming-up part to happen much later. Or never.

Yet, no matter how many months have passed since then, Phantom can still feel his nerves buzz at the moment.

“Dude, calm down,” Kwan’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“But what if-”

“No,” Kwan interrupts. He places a hand on Phantom’s shoulder, sending him a reassuring smile. “You worked hard on this promposal. He’ll love it.”

“You think so?” Phantom asks, fumbling with the book in his hand. “I just… what if he doesn’t, and he refuses? What if he doesn’t like dances? Oh my god, what if he thinks I’m pressuring him because I’m a jock and I need to go with a date?” The more he rambled, the more his nerves sparked and burned, until he’s buzzing with dreadful energy. “Holy shit, Kwan-”

“What did I say, dumbass?” Kwan groans. “Stop that! You’re digging yourself into a nonexistent hole!”

“But-”

“Phantom, if you say one more word about Fenton rejecting you, I will punch you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m calm,” Phantom exhales.

“Look, I get why you’re nervous,” Kwan says. “But this is Fenton. He knows you. Whatever nonsense you just vomited, he won’t think of it at all.”

“Okay,” he takes another breath. “You’re right.”

“Of course, I am,” Kwan rolls his eyes. “I’ve watched you two be disgusting for, like, months. I know my shit, Phantom.”

“Am I supposed to be sorry?” he grins. “Because I’m not.”

Kwan looks annoyed when he answers, “I know that, too. You two are absolutely shameless.”

“Nah, we just like to mess with you. We’re usually not so PDA-ish.”

Kwan twitches dangerously. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Phantom smirks. “Danny gets really shy outside of school, you know? But he’s not innocent either.”

“I should have known,” Kwan mutters. “You’re both little shits.”

Just to be nice, Phantom doesn’t laugh. Much.

Noticing Phantom’s stifled grin, Kwan glares at him. “Oh, please. Just laugh. I know you want to.”

And he was going to. But then, he sees movement behind Kwan, and the face attached to the movement pulls his laughter to a screeching halt.

Kwan’s expression shifts. Without looking back, he says, “Get ready to eat your worries.”

34 notes · View notes

datawyrms · 4 years

Text

Expectations Fulfilled

Dannymay 2020 Day 18 : Horror (As a warning this is way too long? I don’t know how this happened. The answer is way too much setup.)

The last fight with Valerie had not gone well. Danny had hesitated a beat too long, seemingly frozen in indecision and took a nasty blow to the chest for it. That was their friend for you, get too worried about hurting the person trying to kill you and forget to dodge again. At least he’d dropped out of the sky over a wooded area, giving them a chance to pull him out of the fire yet again.

“Danny, you have to change back before she sees you!” Sam hissed at the glowing boy who was clutching his head. “Do you need us to carry you?” her eyes scanned the branches above, it didn’t look like he’d taken any down by slamming into them, but he could always just land badly.

“I will totally put you in this thermos over letting her drag you off to Vlad.” Tucker warned, listening for the tell tale hum of the ghost hunter’s jet board.

“I-I’m okay.” Danny finally responded, starting to get back to his feet. “Don’t soup me. Hate that,” he shook his head still rubbing at it with one hand. “I’m just a bit dizzy”.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that hero act anymore, you hear me?”

“Hurry up!”

The ghost gave a stiff nod, finally clear headed enough to switch back to human form. He stumbled, but the three of them had enough practice by now to get moving quickly. It wasn’t likely Valarie would connect the three of them with Phantom, but with their luck she’d assume a ghost was what had gotten Danny limping along.

“We really need a better plan for when she catches up to you, talking it out isn’t working.”

“What, I love being blamed for beating myself up.”

Sam scowled at her flippant friend. “I know you’re worried about hurting her, but she can probably take a few hits. Just so she’s a little more cautious about going after you so hard.”

“Probably wouldn’t take a fall from that high up very well though.” the half ghost grimaced as he watched the sky.

“Dude, you barely took that fall. Sam has a point.” Tucker handed over the backpack as his friend steadied, keeping close in case Danny was only acting like he was good to go again.

“I’ll think about it.” Which was basically Dannyanto for ‘no’, but there wasn’t much use in trying to convince him.

That is why it was so strange the next day in school. Tucker spotted Valerie running out of class with a flimsy excuse, but Danny hadn’t even made an attempt to leave. It could have been something that wasn’t ghost related, but spotting the large white and green serpent ghost slammed to the ground from the window confirmed it was indeed a ghost thing.

“Hey. Aren’t you gonna go out there?” he leaned over with a hiss, Lancer too distracted by the potential danger to his students to really be picky about talking in class.

“Huh?” Danny stared at him blankly.

“The ghost? That Val’s fighting?” he clarified, wondering if his friend had simply slept through his ghost sense.

Danny looked out the window, looking more bored than alarmed. “Nah. She has it.”

“Dude, are you okay?”

“You guys were the ones saying we needed a plan. So I’ll just let her deal with it,” he shrugged, slouching back in his chair.

That didn’t really seem like a plan he’d normally come up with. Sure, it was sensible, but that’s why it didn’t make any sense. Danny looked normal enough though, maybe he was just tired of getting yelled at by someone he was helping. “If you say so. It is just an animal ghost,”. He dropped the subject, taking several looks back as their teacher ushered them all off to a ‘safer area’. Valerie probably wouldn’t have any trouble alone, but his friend’s complete lack of interest was a little creepy.

Sam’s opener at lunch meant he wasn’t alone in that thought. “Aren’t you maybe a little too carefree about this?”

“No? If she gets beat up then it’s not my problem anymore,” he focused back on his sandwich, ignoring the twin looks of bafflement he was getting for a few minutes. When they continued he muttered “What? I’ll deal with it if it threatens you guys, you’re my friends”.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Your parents don’t have some weird ghost mood changer or something?”

“I’m fine Sam. I finally agree with you guys and now you’re surprised I’m not acting like a superhero, sheesh.” he rolled his eyes, irritation creasing his brow.

“You gotta admit it was pretty sudden. We know how stubborn you are,” Tucker crossed his arms, unable to shake the feeling that something was off.

“You said it enough that it made sense. She hates me and wants to waste me, so why keep bailing her out? See how she likes the ‘evil ghost’ not helping,”

“You’ll help if she gets in serious trouble though, right?” Tucker hesitated before asking.

“If I feel like it.”

Sam and Tucker shared a look, biting back any further questions. Whatever was up with Danny, they probably wouldn’t get out of the half ghost himself. They’d have to invite themselves over tonight and take a look around for anything new and dangerous.

“See? Totally fine.” Danny prompted them to look around, spotting the ghost hunter entering the lunchroom with a scowl.

“Uh Danny, she’s a little hurt. See her arm?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So? I take worse, you’ve taken worse. Why do you care?”

Sam really wanted to ask him why he didn’t care, but the elbow from Tucker had her reconsider. With the weird apathy, it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to get on his bad side.

Yet they couldn’t find any sort of weapon or tool that might have explained why their friend had flipped from being completely unwilling to aggressively defend himself against Valerie to ignoring ghost fights he had no interest in. Any questions or nudges to help were always met with reluctance, as if he resented the very idea of assisting. Sure, he’d go the second a ghost might threaten his family or friends, but otherwise he seemed to have set the rest of the town in a ‘not my problem’ box.

“Maybe he wants to focus on his studies. You know he can’t work for NASA if he keeps pulling his kind of grades.” Jazz was a little put off by his behaviour, but couldn’t deny that the increased amount of sleep and downtime was reversing her brother’s downward trend in school.

“Isn’t it weird though? It’s not like it was our idea for him to use his ghost powers to help people, he did that on his own,” Sam pointed out, frustrated that Jazz would just ignore all of that.

“You know I can totally hear you guys, right?” Danny called from upstairs, and they could swear the room had gotten colder.

“Yup! Eavesdropping is rude little bro”

“So is gossiping behind my back!”

Jazz gave a shrug, covering up a laugh from his irritated retort. “He’s not acting all that different guys, really.”

“Which I’ve been saying on repeat all week.” Danny groused, hands in his pockets as he slouched into the room. “I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. So I stopped. Is it really that big of a deal?”

“You weren’t pretending, you were really helping people,” Sam pressed, earning another eye roll.

“Sure. That’s why everyone hates my guts. Or wants to poke around in them.”

“Well it’s up to you dude. Just let us know if anything feels off?”

“I’m fine! Sheesh!”

Phantom had been strange since their last fight. In some ways it had been nice, not needing to constantly chase the pest down only for him to get away yet again. She was pretty sure she’d caught more than the glowing terror had this week, mostly because the ghost barely showed up. Perhaps it had finally decided the weaker ghosts were beneath it, or didn’t get it enough attention. She didn’t miss the ghost, but she could admit she was running more ragged than usual for it.

“Get out of my way.” the ghost had the audacity to bark an order at her after flinging Ember to the ground, making her completely miss her shot.

“You’re the one in my way Phantom.” she growled back, getting some satisfaction as the ghost’s eyes snapped to her hands and the ectogun she held. “You can’t fool me, I know you’re just an evil ghost”

The green eyed ghost glared at her for that “Am I now?” he paused in midair, eyes flicking between Ember who was getting back up for another go, and the red clad ghost hunter in front of him. “Hey Ember!”

“What! I don’t need any of your awful puns, dipstick”

“How ‘bout a truce? First one to get the hunter grounded wins.” he ducked quickly to dodge the shot Valerie fired.

“‘Bout time you learned what fun is, kid. You’re on!” the ghostly musician regained her place in the air, apparently willing to forgive a punch to the ground if it meant ganging up on a ghost hunter.

“Hey Val? I suggest you run.” With that he fired on her, only managing to dodge the blow by having her board stop floating. She always knew the white haired boy was evil, but she never really expected him to team up with another ghost. Still, she was a better ghost hunter than most. She could take them.

She flew low, counting on the extra obstacles to throw off the ghosts aim. The side benefit of not having far to fall was a notable one as well as the larger soundwaves Ember could launch kept clipping the sides of the board, a little too wide to completely dodge. She rocked wildly but was able to keep her feet, using the time in between volleys to launch a few attacks of her own back. Judging by the grunts she’d hit one or the other a few times, but not directly. She urged the board to go faster, eyes scanning for a good place to turn the tables on the ghosts. It wasn’t a great spot, but the two buildings could provide cover once she got behind one. The board shrieked at the hard turn she demanded of it, but managed to get down the alley without clipping the sides.

“Who’s the rat now, huh?” Ember’s taunt was infuriating, but she forced herself to wait. She had to take at least one of them out. The first shot took the ghost by surprise as she rounded the corner, but the second was a little too far down.

“The thing about corners is you can’t really surprise me if I don’t come that way.”

She jerked in surprise, trying to face the ghost who had somehow gotten behind her-though the building of course how had she been so stupid-? Yet she couldn’t dodge the punch that threw her off the board and on to the ground, skidding to where the guitar wielding ghost was waiting.

“Well, that was fun. Should do it again sometime!” she gave the ghost hunter a kick before taking to the air, eyeing Phantom a little warily. “Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Surprise. Touch my friends and I’ll kill you again. Got it?” he started cheerfully enough, but the warning was nearly a snarl.

“Chill out dipstick. Weird little humans off limits, got it!”

Valerie tried to rise as flame-head fled, but was forced back down by Phantom’s boot. She managed not to grunt in pain, but she didn’t have too many options to remove the ghost’s foot from her chest at the moment.

“As for you, Valerie,” he ghost was still clearly furious, but seemed a little lost now that he’d actually knocked her down.

“Danny?”

Valerie’s heart raced. Tucker? He was a bit of a dweeb, but she couldn’t let this ghost scum hurt him. She struggled, trying to unbalance the ghost while it was distracted, rolling free and dragging the ghost down with a grunt.

“What now?” Phantom seemed peevish, ignoring the ghost hunter completely after getting back up. As if she was so little threat he could just ignore her.

“I think you might be going a little far dude.” Tucker really shouldn’t be trying to reason with this monster, but it was giving her time to ready her weapon.

“Hey, she wanted evil!”

Tucker looked incredibly uncomfortable, eyes darting between the ghost and his disguised classmate. “How about no more fighting for today, okay?”

“You can’t be defending this monster! It can’t hide what it is!” she aimed her reclaimed weapon.

The ghost’s more relaxed air died the second she finished speaking, temperature plunging as he whirled to face her. It was strange how he seemed more fixed on her hand than the barrel of the gun, but that didn’t really matter all that much with the ghost’s hands and eyes glowing a furious green.

She stuck to her guns, ready to fire and distract the thing so Tucker could run Yet he didn’t run, instead pulling a Fenton thermos quickly out of his backpack, looking more worried about her than anything else.

“Yeah okay, you need a time out. Sorry.” The ghost didn’t even react to the words, though it blinked a few times once it realized the Fenton’s invention was pulling it away from its intended target. Otherwise it didn’t struggle, leaving Tucker to quickly cap the thermos. “Okaaay. I’m just gonna. Go now. Bye!” he sprinted away before she could demand he hand over the thermos so she could dispose of the ghost inside. Didn’t he see how dangerous it was?

Thinking simply hurt. Tucker and Sam were worried sick, babbling on and on about how he was acting weird, that he could have seriously hurt Valarie. As if hurting her mattered. Maybe it did? Urgh. He just wanted them all to stop talking and let him figure it out.

“Danny, this isn’t normal. We just want to help,”

“Why is any of this surprising? I’m always like this.” he insisted, only earning worried frowns again.

“No, you don’t usually decide to attack people for calling you evil. What’s gotten into you?” Sam was looking him in the eye. She did genuinely seem to be concerned, even though it didn’t make any sense.

“Nothing? I’ve been half ghost for a while,” he crossed his arms.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere. We need to ask Frostbite to check him or something.”

“There’s no way we can get to the Farfrozen if we start now, and we can’t trust him to go on his own right now.” Tucker frowned, punching plans into his PDA.

“I’m right here guys.”

Sam dragged her hand across her face. “Danny, you were going to waste Valerie, we get to question your judgement right now.”

“Of course I was. I’ll show her a monster,” her muttered, eyes flaring green in annoyance.

Tucker paled a little, still looking at the PDA. “Yeah that? That’s what we’re worried about.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you guys.”

“Danny, that’s not the problem here!”

The half ghost sighed, slumping on his bed. They still weren’t making sense, and everything was starting to itch horribly. He rubbed at his shoulder, but it only seemed to make the itching sensation worse. Something was in the way of what needed scratching, but he couldn’t quite reach it. Very annoying.

“Can you stop dropping the temperature? It’s like a meat locker in here.”

“I’m not doing anything.” he stared at the stickers on the ceiling, idly wondering if something had happened to the others to make all of them make zero sense. Or to make them forget that he was a half ghost. Of course it was cold. He kept scratching at his shoulder, nails desperately trying to find whatever it was that was making him feel so uncomfortable. Something tight and restrictive that itched furiously.

“We go Friday. There’s no way we can sneak away that long until then.”

“You’re overreacting guys.” That, and a trip to the ghost zone would be pretty boring.

“No, you’re under reacting. Just trust us, okay?”

Sam and Tucker remained weirdly on edge, watching him like he was some sort of bomb that might go off at any moment. Shouldn’t they be used to all this by now? So what if he found it a little fun that people were too scared to keep eye contact with him for very long? They were only unsettled, and the fear always gave a welcome kick of energy. It distracted from the itching.

He wanted to be a little more scary than just simply unsettling, but Sam and Tucker insisted the school was a hands off zone now. Maybe he should have picked different humans to be so attached too, as these ones were being incredibly boring all of a sudden. Didn’t they want to have a bit of fun? Simply being unsettling with his presence was all well and good, but it wasn’t the same as a proper scared-for their-lives affair. They didn’t even approve when he went after Skulker for daring to set foot in his territory! He’d been ‘too careless’ for dragging the ghost near some of the fleeing humans while they fought. Of course he had! What was the point of fighting if he wasn’t going to get some good back from it? He could do what he wanted with his food.

Really, it just made him want to tear his hair out. They were the ones who had changed, but they kept insisting it was the other way around.

Valerie was incredibly weird though. She kept talking to him as if they were friends. It always made the itching worse, trying to pretend he was glad she was at school and not a smear on the sidewalk. Humans were stupid. It wasn’t like he was hiding what he was. Though it was one of the times that she approached him that he finally solved the itching problem, nails finally tearing through the obnoxious, too tight skin.

She’d backed away with a gasp, as if the green stain on his hands should be some sort of surprise. “What happened to you? Don’t worry, I’ll get help!”

She seemed confused when he laughed at her nonsensical question. Flexing his freed claws was fun, but he really did need to get the rest of this restricting mess off. His right hand clawed at his arm, the ectoplasm that oozed from his self inflicted wounds was both freeing and soothing at once. Stop hiding, stop pretending.

“Nothing happened to me.” He flexed his freed arms, green black skin more like tar than anything else, giggling when the girl recoiled from the new green eyes that bubbled to the surface to watch her squirm.

Maybe she was that oblivious. “Someone will help you Danny, just hold on!” she insisted before sprinting down the hall. He’d chase her, but there were so many people simply watching in mute horror that he couldn’t resist trying to get a few screams out of them. No killing, Tucker and Sam wouldn’t like that, but a few scratches wouldn’t hurt all that much. Dash ought to know how kind he’d been in not retaliating sooner, really. The disgusted sounds they made as he clawed at his face was entertaining, someone fainting as he flung the discarded skin away. Some of his hair remained black, but the white went nicer with his pointed teeth, in his opinion. He let out a snarl, relishing in how they fled from some twisted half human ghost. Tucker and Sam were wrong, he absolutely should have done this sooner. Well, he’d let them know that when they showed up. They usually did. It really was a bit of a shame to just let them all run away though. Oh well.

Maybe he should free his feet, but getting through his shoes might be a bit of a pain. It was easier to drag his claws against the lockers and listen for the sounds of running feet and muffled screams. They were so scared they didn’t even need to see him.

“Danny, do you recognize us?”

Oh, there they were! “Hi. I fixed the itching.” he clawed idly at his neck, feeling more flexible with every scratch. It was much easier to keep an eye on them with the arm eyes, freeing his head to glance around the rest of the hallway.

“We noticed. Uh. I think you left half of yourself on the floor.” Tucker looked ill, pointedly ignoring a red and green splatter on the wall next to him.

“Finally. So much scratching. You have no idea how annoying that was.” They didn’t seem happy for him though. More worried. Why? They knew he’d never hurt them. They were his humans, his favourite ones. No one got to hurt them.

“Can you...change back?” Sam asked, approaching cautiously.

“Change back to what?” his brow furrowed, fixing the blue eyes of his face to double check he was seeing correctly. Was she upset? Weird. This was a good thing.

“Back into yourself. Human, like us? Remember?” Tucker had taken one of his hands, careful of the claws. They were still the same general shape, even if Tucker’s skin was thin and weak and warm.

“I’m not like you though. You were there.” he tilted his head, wondering if they’d forgotten that too somehow.

“You’re still human, Danny,” Sam stepped in as Tucker seemed distracted in wiping the green and black film off of his hands.

“Nope. Something in the middle.” he let out a hum, sure he’d heard something. “Being split like that was wrong. Like playing pretend all the time.” The beast stretched, the cracking of his lower back like gunshots in the abandoned hall. Two more steps. So there was a sneak around!

“This isn’t you, you know that. You don’t want to hurt or scare people.”

“Mmm? That’s what monsters do, isn’t it?” Why did Sam decide to hug him now? He couldn’t get at the rest of his torso like that.

Tucker was very confusing, rubbing at the water from his eyes. “Just let us try to help you fix this, okay? You aren’t a monster.”

“Sure I am. What else could I be?”

“Who told you that? Why would you listen to them over us?” Sam was brave as usual, shaking him a little instead of backing away.

“I told you that too! Are you sure you guys aren’t the ones forgetting stuff?” he frowned at the two of them, ear twitching. More steps. The sneak was close, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was.

“It doesn’t matter who it was. Can you switch to ghost form?” Tucker sounded calm, but his face was still leaking. Sam had joined him, though she was more biting her lip than dripping like a faucet.

“I’m both right now. I just said that!” They really weren’t listening very well. “I’m done hiding what I am, it was uncomfortable.” The confused muttering from the sneak was fun to overhear, but it would probably be more fun if Tucker and Sam were in on it. “They don’t know what I mean by that, you might have to explain it for em.”

“Explain what? To who? No one’s here Danny. It’s just us.”

“Us and the sneakkkkk.” he sprang forward, grabbing on to the corner with his claws, twisting his neck to look down at the sneak who backed away with a yelp. “Hiiii Val. You gonna run again?” he snickered when her fear morphed into anger, apparently recognizing him now.

“You sick creep! What did you do to Danny?”

“Valerie! Don’t make him mad!” Sam called out, the two of them sprinting over to join the sneaky ghost hunter.

“No one listens! I’m Danny. I’ve always been Danny. You just didn’t notice! That’s okay, almost nobody did.” Oh she was very funny when she glared at him like that.

“You’re lying. Danny is nothing like you.”

“Danny is everything like me. Right Tuck? She doesn’t listen to ghosts. You sure I can’t just kill her?” he glanced back at his friends, disappointed to see the no already written on their faces.

“No! That would be bad, don’t do that!” Tucker stammered, unsure where to keep his eyes. He’d have an easier time if he had eyes on his arms like he did now. Maybe his friends could be half ghosts too. Hmm.

“Valarie, I know this doesn’t make any sense, just listen and don’t set him off.”

“Sam, this thing has done something awful to your friend and you’re worried about the ghost’s feelings? What’s wrong with you?” the ghost hunter stood her ground even without her fancy gear, glaring up at the perching mutated mess above her.

“All of that up there is Danny, okay? Something’s wrong, and we’ll explain it once he’s better, but you just need to trust us right now.”

“Mmmhmm. A monster just like you said.” he rocked back and forth a little, blue eyes fixed on Valerie’s clenched fist. “You’re lucky my friends won’t let me kill you Val. Even though I’m not hiding anymore.”

Tucker noticed how Danny’s blue eyes seemed fixed on the girl he was tormenting, elbowing Sam to point it out.

“None of you are making any sense. He’s just possessed or something, why are you acting like this is okay?”

“Annoying.” Danny growled, showing far too many fangs. “This is what you wanted! You say I’m not a hero so I stop.”

Tucker and Sam looked ill. “Valarie, what do you have on your hand?”

“Why does my jewelry matter now?” she didn’t look at them, too busy scowling at the monster on the wall. “I didn’t say anything like that to Danny.”

“Yes you did! You are awful at this. Phantom was Danny and vise versa. Keep up!” the hybrid snorted. “Both are me. Both are very, very tired of you and your orders.”

“It’s important! Where did you get it?” Sam had apparently decided she didn’t have time for Valarie to be confused, trying to grab at her hand and cursing when she saw it. “Nevermind, I don’t care, just smash it!”

“You still aren't’ making sense.” She was reaching for a blaster that wasn’t there, looking between all three now as possible threats.

“Then you say I’m evil. So I comply. Now I stop hiding and still you are complaining! Make up your mind! Or let me kill you, that’d be fun.” Plaster cracked beneath the creature’s claws as it leaned forward, uncomfortably close. The out of place blue eyes flicked from the red ring to her face and back again. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted Val? Or should I call you master?”

(oh look a sort of continuation)

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #sam manson #valerie gray #my stuff #why did i spend all day on this #i hope it was a decent buildup payoff #horror is a lot about suspense to me #but idono if i really got that part #there's some blood but it's pretty glossed over idono #please scream thoughts at me they make my day lol #body horror #if i should tag more things say so i am Bad At Tumblr :v

96 notes · View notes

darks-ink · 4 years

Text

To Be

Did someone order post-reveal fluff?

Prompt: With his secret revealed, Danny has to wear inhibitors to school. Most days they're fine if not irritating, but when they get damaged in a chemistry lab everyone's desperate to see his powers before the inhibitors are repaired. Even teachers make a point to ask for "favors" while Danny's allowed to go all out. Prompt by: @wastefulreverie Word count: 3,474

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

---

“It’s broken,” Maddie reported. On the surface, her voice sounded sorry, but Danny could hear the relief underneath. It surprised him every time. How his parents continued to love him, despite the revelation of his half-ghost nature.

“Can it be fixed?” Principal Ishiyama folded her hands together, staring down Maddie. She didn’t even try to look at Danny. “You know the rules, Mrs. Fenton.”

“Doctor Fenton,” Maddie corrected, sharply. “And, yes, I am well aware. Jack and I will take it home to fix it, but there are limits to even our skills. It will take a few days, depending on the damage.”

Principal Ishiyama huffed, then nodded, jerkily. “Very well. Daniel will have to stay home and make up the lost work later.”

“What?” He jerked in his chair. “Why?”

“Because your inhibitors are broken,” Ishiyama explained, slowly, like she was talking to a child. Or a stupid ghost hybrid, apparently. “And it is against school rules for ghosts to enter the school without inhibitors.”

“But that’s so unfair! It’s not even my fault that it’s broken!” Danny felt his core stir up in his chest, and forced himself to calm down. Flashing his eyes at her would only make it worse. “It’s only a few days, I can behave myself!”

A hand landed on his shoulder, and his mom shot him a comforting look. She turned back to Ishiyama. “Look, Principal. Jack and I have listened to your strict rules on Danny’s power usage in the school. We’ve built him the inhibitors, just so he can continue to come. I will not, however, force him to stay home because one of the other kids damaged the devices.”

“Dangerous ghosts are not allowed in the school,” Ishiyama repeated, her tone forced. “Without the inhibitors—”

“Danny is not just a ghost, nor is he innately dangerous,” Maddie corrected, her eyes narrowing. “I will not let you punish him for another's actions.”

Principal Ishiyama stared back, her eyes narrowed as well. After a few moments, she said, “Fine. He can continue to attend without the inhibitors, but! If we receive any reports of him using his powers within the school, especially in a potentially dangerous context, he will be punished. Is this understood?”

“Yes, principal Ishiyama.” Danny shot her his most innocent smile. “I’ll be good.”

“Sure you will,” she said, entirely unconvinced. Her expression could not be more skeptical. “Mrs— Doctor Fenton, please let us know when the inhibitors are fixed and ready for use again. Was that all?”

“Yes, it was.” Maddie stood up, tucking the broken inhibitors into a pocket on her belt. “Danny, let’s go.”

He nodded, getting up from the chair.

Wow. His mom really had fought Ishiyama to let him continue to go to school, even without the inhibitors. And he’d been thinking that it had been their idea to equip him with those things.

---

Valerie looked up when he sat down in his usual seat, quirking an eyebrow. “Danny! I thought you weren’t allowed to come to class without the inhibitors?”

“Mom thought it was stupid to punish me if their destruction wasn’t my fault.” He shrugged, putting down his stuff. “Principal Ishiyama tried to argue but Mom looked ready to fight her and, well. Ishiyama wasn’t ready to fight a 9th degree black belt over my presence here.”

Valerie snorted. “That’s fair. I’m a pretty good fighter and even I would think twice about challenging your mom.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He leaned back in his chair to wait for class to actually start. “It’ll probably only be a few days before the inhibitors are fixed again, unfortunately.”

“You don’t like them, right?” Valerie’s fingers twitched around the bracelet on her wrist. He made a mental note to have someone check that thing out; he didn’t trust Technus’ tech.

“They’re alright, usually,” he answered her, putting away his previous thought. “A little irritating sometimes, but fine most of the time. I just don’t like, y’know, the implication. I get that my powers are scary, but at least I don’t use them to hurt or bully anyone.”

Her eyes dropped back to her wristband. “…Yeah.”

“Val, you know I wasn’t talking about that.” He nudged her with his foot. “Seriously, it’s fine. I was talking about the jocks. Nobody is telling them to wear restraints so they can’t punch anybody.”

“Unfortunately, that’s also true,” she acknowledged. “Morning, Tucker.”

Tucker grumbled a response, dropping heavily into this seat.

“Wow, you’re in a mood today.” Danny quirked an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong, Tuck?”

“It’s— Don’t worry about it.” He flapped a dismissive hand, pulling his phone out of his pocket to demonstrate. “My phone’s charger broke, I think, or I didn’t plug it in right or something. It’s all out of battery.”

“That’s rough, buddy. Maybe someone has a charger you could borrow?” He reached over to pat Tucker on the shoulder. “If not, I can charge it for you after school.”

“Yeah, you— Wait.” Tucker grabbed Danny’s hand, suddenly, holding it out for inspection. “Your inhibitors are broken. Why can’t you charge my phone now?”

Danny made a face at him. “I’m still not allowed to use my powers in the school, Tuck. The only reason why Ishiyama didn’t force me to stay home until the inhibitors are fixed again is because Mom was about three seconds away from throwing down.”

“Ah, come on, nobody will care.” Tucker shoved his phone into Danny’s chest. “Please?”

“If I get in trouble I’m siccing my mom on you,” Danny assured Tucker, taking the phone. “Just know that.”

Tucker nodded, grinning.

“You’re a bad influence!” Valerie tacked on from Danny’s other side. “But also, I definitely wanna see this, Fenton!”

“The worst,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. He held the phone carefully between his hands, coaxing his core into releasing a little energy. Charging electronic devices was tricky; he had to find the right balance between too much power, and too little.

And to hold back on the ecto. That was also a very important part. No one wanted another incident like the possessed toaster.

Bright blue sparks danced over his fingers. Jumped from the digits to the device held in-between them. The phone’s screen lit up, suddenly, displaying a rapidly filling battery.

Danny waited until the battery passed 80% before stopping the electricity. He held onto the phone for a moment longer, until he was sure that it wouldn’t shock Tucker.

“Make sure it’s charged next time,” he said as he handed the phone back. “Once the inhibitors are fixed again, I won’t be able to charge it for you.”

“I know, I know.” Tucker rolled his eyes, taking the phone. “Thanks, though. You’re a lifesaver.”

---

“Mr. Fenton?” the reedy voice of Mr. Falluca asked, and Danny jerked to awareness. Him, almost falling asleep in class? No sir!

“Yeah?” he replied, rubbing through his eyes. “Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Nothing yet,” the teacher assured him, smiling in a way that instantly unnerved Danny. “But I was wondering if you could offer us a hand?”

Instant paranoia. “Uh, maybe? With what?”

“I was hoping you could help me with a demonstration,” Falluca started explaining, gesturing to the front of the classroom. “We don’t have any equipment for a large experiment, but I have everything I need to a demonstration… except for a bunsen burner.”

“Okay…” Danny said, slowly. “Um. Mr. Falluca, are you aware of the fact that I’m still not allowed to use my ghost powers in the school, even if I’m not wearing my inhibitors?”

Falluca started nodding before Danny had even finished talking. “Yes, of course I know, Mr. Fenton. But the inhibitors got damaged during my class, and I should’ve noticed and interfered long before it came to that. Consider the free use of your powers in my classroom an apology of sorts.”

“What about the other students? Won’t they tell Ishiyama, or Lancer, or something?”

“Nonsense, Danny. They love Phantom to bits,” Falluca dismissed. “Besides, I will say that it’s fine. Even if one of them tells the principal, well. It’s my word against theirs, isn’t it?”

Well, he could hardly argue with that. “If you’re sure, Mr. Falluca.”

Danny was promptly led to the front of the classroom, with Mr. Falluca briefly explaining what they were going to do, and how hot the flames would have to be. It all sounded fairly doable.

They waited until the bell had rung and everyone had found their seats. Mr. Falluca cleared his throat, and the class silenced.

“First off, I’m sorry to say that today’s experiment has been canceled due to safety concerns. The accident yesterday unfortunately spooked my fellow teachers. Instead I’ve put together a demonstration, so you’ll have some form of practicum to match with the theory.”

Mr. Falluca gestured over at Danny. “Now, while I have the materials, I do not have the equipment. Mr. Fenton will help me demonstrate. I expect you all to behave, and not to go running off to inform the principal about this, yes?”

“Yes, Mr. Falluca!” the class chimed back, loud and enthusiastic. Danny’s core hiccuped with startled joy.

“Very good. Mr. Fenton?” Falluca turned to look at him. “The floor is yours. Shift whenever you’re ready.”

Danny nodded, tugging on his core. Light flashed, and a few of his classmates gasped as he transformed.

“Ready,” he said, tugging on the hem of his gloves. He could handle his own flames just fine, but the heated glass? Nah, he needed protection for that stuff.

“Alright. For today’s lesson, we will be focusing on chemical reactions based on heat.” Falluca ducked below his desk, then came up again holding a large bag of sugar. “This will be our material for this test: regular sugar. When sugar gets heated, what happens to it?”

A few glances were exchanged among the students, but no one raised their hands.

“No one knows?” Falluca prodded. “I’ll pick someone to answer, then. Star?”

She jerked to awareness. “Um. It burns?”

“Eventually, yes, but before that, something else happens. Anyone else?”

Complete silence.

Mr. Falluca frowned. “Hm. Well, let’s see if you can figure it out during the demonstration. I’ll put some of the sugar in a spoon, which Danny can heat.”

The teacher shook some of the sugar into a spoon, handing it to Danny afterwards. “Slowly build up the heat, please.”

“Gotcha.” He took the spoon in his left hand, carefully holding on to the far end, and raised his right hand underneath the scooping end. Gently coaxed his core into producing heat.

A small but bright green flame formed in the palm of his right hand, directly underneath the spoon.

Danny angled the spoon a little, so the class could see the sugar on the inside. And then, slowly but surely, ramped up the heat. The sugar warmed up, its color shifting into a warm brown.

“Is it… turning into caramel?” Valerie asked, drawing Danny’s attention away from the spoon again. Huh. Was it? Falluca hadn’t actually told him what it would do.

“Correct, Miss Gray!” Falluca clapped his hands together, cheerily. “Sugar, when heated, caramelizes. Normally, I would say that you’re free to have a taste, but I’m not sure if that would be a good idea now, Danny?”

“Probably not,” he agreed, keeping up the flame. “This level of ecto-contamination isn’t actually dangerous, but it won’t taste good, especially if you’re not used to eating it. And it might make you feel queasy.”

Mr. Falluca nodded along. “Yes, I figured as much. Sorry, kids, no free caramel today! Danny, thank you for your help. You may return to your seat.”

He nodded, extinguishing the flame, and placing the hot spoon onto the desk. Having done all that, he let himself shift back to human, and walked back to his seat.

“Now,” Mr. Falluca started, “As for the science behind this…”

---

Danny had remained wary the rest of the day, but it seemed that the rest of the class had stayed true to their word. Ishiyama didn’t come complain to him, not during any of the lessons after chemistry or during lunch.

He rolled his shoulder, hearing his spine click repeatedly. Next to him, Tucker shivered and grimaced.

“Dude, do you really have to do that?”

“Nah.” Danny shrugged, then rolled his other shoulder. “But I wanna.”

Tucker glared at him, then flinched, turning towards the teacher. Mrs. Tetslaff was growling, but apparently not at them.

“Mr. Baxter, your showboating as landed another ball stuck in the rafters. How do you think we’ll get it back, hm?”

Dash shrugged, seemingly caught somewhere between meeting her gaze and cowering from it. “It’s no big deal.”

“No?” Tetslaff gritted back. “Why, are you gonna fly up there and fetch it for us?”

Danny knew what was coming even before Dash pointed at him.

Ah, yep, there it was. Right on time, buddy.

“Danny can do it, can’t he? Fly up there and get it for us?”

Tetslaff followed the finger, and Danny straightened up under her hard stare. “Hm.”

“Uh, I’m actually not allowed to use my powers in the school,” Danny tried. Nudged Tucker. “Right, Tuck?”

“Yes, yeah, exactly.” Tucker nodded along, like the good friend he was. “Buuuut…”

“No one will care, Fenton,” Tetslaff agreed, gesturing him over. “I’ve got your back.”

Well… he supposed that if it was fine with Falluca, it would be unfair not to help Tetslaff too. Right?

“I’ll have to shift,” he pointed out. “That okay?”

“Just go, scrawny.” She stepped back, half-turning. To stop the light from blinding her, maybe?

He nodded, already reaching out to his core. It woke, whirring more powerfully, releasing ghostly power into his system. Light flashed, rings haloing over his body, until he was left in his ghost form.

“Whereabouts is it?” Danny asked, craning his head up. With his enhanced vision he could see the rafters just fine, but chances were that the ball was wedged somewhere behind a beam.

“Right up here,” Dash said, pointing, and, ah. Danny had almost forgotten that the guy was also here. “Should be a pretty straight line.”

“Alright, I’ll… go get it, I guess.” Danny let gravity fade away, slowly lifting off of the ground. When no one tried stopping him, he let himself fly properly.

It was hard not to notice that almost everyone had stopped moving in the gym, though. All staring up at him and whispering, hushed.

Danny bit his lip, doing his best to focus on grabbing the ball. Whatever they were saying, he didn’t want to hear.

He halted, having leveled out with the rafters. Now where was that ball that Dash had gotten… ah! There it was.

And… stuck, apparently. Danny wrapped both of his hands around it, tugging, but it wouldn’t let go. He could’ve tried pulling harder, probably, but he was afraid of using too much power and destroying it entirely.

He bit his lip. How…

Oh, duh.

With his hands still on the ball, Danny forced it intangible. Pulled it out from its place behind the beam with ease.

“Got it!” he called down, holding out the now-tangible ball. “But, uh… There’s a few more up here, I think?”

“So that’s where all my balls keep disappearing to!” Tetslaff grunted so loudly that even Danny could hear it. “Drop that ball, Fenton, and go get the rest!”

“Gotcha!” He released the ball, watching it plummet down. Dash caught it before it hit the ground, though, raising a thumb’s up in Danny’s direction.

Ugh, weird. He still hadn’t gotten over Dash’s… everything, after the reveal.

It was better than getting beat up, he supposed, but just… weird. He’d gotten so used to all the normal stuff that the changes were throwing him off.

Actually, maybe that was why he was still so reluctantly to trust everyone with his ghost powers. Not a secret anymore, but he still kept it like one.

The fact that Ishiyama had outlawed it helped on that end too, admittedly.

Danny shook the thoughts off, floating over to another ball stuck in the rafters. Well, no point in worrying about all that, right? Fretting never helped anyone.

He grabbed onto the ball, tugging it loose with ease. Looking down to make sure it wouldn’t hit anyone, he released it. It hit the ground with a pleasing rubbery noise, bouncing off to the side.

A quick glance around led him to a third ball, but after that the rafters seemed clear.

“That was the last of them, I think,” he shouted down to Tetslaff.

“Good job, Fenton!” she yelled back, sticking up a thumb. “Now get down here and show us that athleticism of yours!”

Well. Couldn’t win them all, could you?

---

Valerie appeared to be mashing her head into her locker door. Danny paused, hesitantly, then crept closer. “Are you alright, Val?”

“Peachy,” she grumbled back, not taking her head off of the metal surface. “I broke my lock and now I can’t open my locker anymore.”

“Ah…” Well, that explained it. “Can’t you get it fixed, or replaced, or something?”

“Yeah, but that’ll take a bit.” She lifted her head, finally. “I can’t leave all this stuff overnight.”

Oh, she had her ghost hunting gear in there, huh? “Oh, you have that stuff in there, gotcha.”

She was staring at him, now. “Say, Danny…”

“I don’t think I like that tone of voice,” he said, frowning at her. “What are you doing, Val?”

“Can’t you…” She blinked at him, big watery eyes. Oof, he thought she’d outgrown the cutesy pretense. “Phase it out for me? I mean, you charged Tucker’s PDA, and I’m your friend too… right?”

“Now you’re playing dirty,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine, but you’ll have to cover for me.”

Valerie nodded, swapping places with him so she stood facing the hallway. Her back pressed against his own, warm and solid with muscle.

He took a deep breath, pulling on his core once more. Tingles ran through his arm, turning the limb cold and see-through.

Danny phased his arm through the locker, carefully feeling around for Valerie’s bag. It wasn’t that hard; there was limited space in a locker, after all. His fingers grasped onto the tough fabric, before he pulled it out. His arm, and the bag, returned to their solid state.

“Thanks, Danny.” Valerie took the bag from him again, bumping him gently. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t mention it.” He grinned back. “Literally, or Ishiyama will kill me.”

She snorted, swinging the backpack onto her back. “Yeah, I gotcha. See you tomorrow.”

---

Danny walked into the classroom, nodding at Mr. Lancer.

“Ah, Mr. Fenton,” the teacher greeted him. “I was about to ask you for your help, but I see your inhibitors were fixed sooner than predicted.”

“Uh.” Danny paused, looking down at the bracelets around his wrists. “Yeah, I mean. They’re not up to 100% functionality, but… Wait. Why?”

“Us teachers, we had planned on giving you ample opportunity to use your powers while you could,” he explained, lowering his voice so no one else could overhear. Danny crept a little closer. “But we had planned on spreading it out a little, since we thought we had a few days.”

Danny blinked at him, surprised. “But… If you’re all okay with my powers, why do I still have to wear the inhibitors?”

“Principal Ishiyama is in charge, I’m afraid.” Lancer smiled, ruefully. “And even if we had more of a say in the matter, I’m afraid that our students’ parents are very vocal about allowing a ‘potentially dangerous’ ghost in the school.”

“Right,” Danny said, stomach plummeting. “I… of course.”

“It’s needlessly cruel, and untrue as well, but I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do about it.” Lancer patted his shoulder. “Listen, Danny. Just know that we, the teachers and the students, will always support you. We know you, the real you. Don’t mind those others too much, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I… yeah. Thanks, Mr. Lancer.”

“Always.” Lancer gestured over to the classroom as a whole. “Better get seated now, Danny. And if you ever run into trouble…”

“I know who to ask.” Danny’s core chirped in his chest, and he smiled at Lancer. “Thanks.”

He walked back to his seat, sitting down between Sam and Tucker.

“What was that about?” Tucker asked, leaning closer. “You in trouble?”

“The opposite,” Danny admitted with a laugh. “Apparently all the teachers banded together to let me use my powers while the inhibitors were broken, but they got fixed faster than they’d expected.”

“Wow, really.” Sam blinked, turning to look at Lancer. “I didn’t expect them to be willing to rebel against Ishiyama like that.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, his core rumbling loud and pleased in his chest. “It keeps surprising me, too.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020 #phic phight 20 #dp fanfic #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #danny fenton #dark writes #school stabbed me right in the back #and the frickin motivation bc this fic took forever #i rly liked this prompt but shouldve remembered sooner that i know nothing abt american high school lmao #burning sugar was one of the few things we got to do during chemistry tho so i had to throw it in #plus it wouldve been easy for falluca to organize if danny provided the fire

126 notes · View notes

thomas-reynolds · 3 years

Text

CAUGHT UP // 001

WHO: Griffin x Jamie x Thomas WHERE: The apartment. TW/NOTES: Nsfw. Griff and Tommy-boy come home early from the bar thanks to Griffin’s heavy drinking, and catch Jamie in the act with some dude. Things get heated and not in the fun way, and they end up a little worse for wear.

JAMIE ::

"My place doesn't work." Those four fateful words would normally leave Jamie shrugging and moving on to the next guy. It was a night out, after all, and he didn't have to take home the first hot guy he found. But this one was so hot. Taller than him, but just slightly. Bright blue eyes and a come and get me grin. Maybe it was more the attitude than the looks, and maybe James had downed one too many gold rushes. Maybe it was the fact that it was the beginning of summer, and hot was taking on multiple meanings here. James couldn't put his finger on what the hell it was that made him say these bolds words, but he heard himself saying them all the same. "Let's go back to my place." A husky whisper in the other guy's ear, and the two of them tumbled out of the club and into a cab.

Jamie lost his shirt at the front door, a solid thud echoing through the place as he was backed against it, and then a moan as his hookup- David? Daniel? kissed along his neck, his hands moving lower. "Don't leave a mark." He was already living dangerously. Odds were that Thomas and Griffin wouldn't randomly end up coming back home, but you could never be too careful. Now that he'd gotten that one stipulation out of the way, it was all too easy to let go and focus on the feelings. This would only ever happen once, and since he was already damned anyway, he might as well make the most of it.

More clothes were shed as they made their way to a bedroom. He didn't stop to shut the door, his hands too busy roaming Daryl's body to think of such a mundane detail. He didn't need to prepare himself much before he situated himself on top, sinking down onto the beautiful man's cock and thoroughly enjoying the view. He was close when everything went south. It was nice, having the place to himself, not needing to bother with being quiet. He was breathing hard by this point, choosing expletives that he wouldn't be caught dead saying in church instead of accidentally moaning the wrong name.

GRIFFIN ::

Getting kicked out of a bar was not new for Griffin Rollins, but getting kicked out just after nine o’clock was impressive. Or embarrassing, if he had any shame left, but he didn’t seem to, not with the way Thomas’ lecture was just rolling off his back. He could probably recite the speech back to him at this point - y’know, when he could string a sentence together without slurring. It probably meant something that the barkeep knew to call Thomas - his roommate, yes; his buddy, sure; but decidedly not a loved one, not his significant other - but that was the nice thing about being this hammered: Griffin could blissfully ignore all the flashing neon signs from the universe that he was, in fact, still a fuck-up.

That same universe was spinning by the time the men reached their front door, the dark-haired one making a valiant effort to retrieve his keys only for his hand to be impatiently batted away. As they stepped into their place, Griffin moaned out a curse - or, he thought he did, but it didn’t sound like himself. And it was coming from the wrong direction.

His eyes flashed over to Thomas’ face, trying to decipher what the fuck was going on, and he looked as far from happy as he had when he’d showed up at the bar, but now the daggers weren’t being directing at Griffin. The blonde was looking past him, and it took a carefully-executed turn to discover what he was looking at: a naked hottie riding a cock in Pearson’s bed. Griffin’s liquor-fogged mind took what felt like an eon to realize that was bad, for two reasons. 1) The naked hottie was not Thomas’ sister, and 2) The naked hottie was Pearson.

Griffin’s fingers immediately fisted in the front of Thomas’ shirt, partially in an attempt to keep him exactly where he was, and partially to keep himself upright. “Hey, hey, Tommy, hey -”

THOMAS ::

Getting the call shouldn’t have come as any sort of surprise. After all, Thomas took more phone calls regarding Griffin’s health and well-being than he’s sure Griffin’s own mother ever took. Picked him up from enough bars, enough gutters, even football practice when they were teens and his mom conveniently ‘forgot’ him at the school. Typically, Thomas wore the eternal baby-sitter badge like a medal of honor - used it to badger and annoy Griffin into some semblance of shame when he was even a modicum of sober. Now though, when Thomas himself had been getting his feet wet at the bar, a young brunette with too dark lipstick and overly straightened hair, but big enough breasts to be worth his effort practically hanging off of his arm - now it was annoying.

Even when it was more tolerable, Thomas didn’t let Griffin think otherwise anyway, but still. The point still stands, he thought, staring at the doors of a crusty old bar that screamed ‘burn your clothes when you leave here’ and definitely had enough bikers and hookers outside to make your grandmother faint on impact. Convincing the bouncer to not knock his friend’s head in was simple enough, it was actually the waitress whom Griffin palmed on the way out that seemed to cause the most trouble - and by the time they were on the way back to the apartment, drunken hands pulling at the collar of Thomas’ shirt (and stretching out the goddamned hole), Thomas had almost begun his ranting on auto pilot.

A little, “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that? Like a fucking gutter rat. What the fuck were you drinking anyway? You smell like fucking paint-thinner --” The words died on Thomas’ lips, cheeks, ears and chest heating in a way that would make him worry that he’s finally going six feet under (and maybe he is, if his blood pressure could go any higher), and it reminded him of the time he got incredibly crossfaded at Brittany Deering’s party back in 10th grade and blacked out in her bathtub for a few hours, barely avoiding being puked and pissed on by fellow students in the same position as him. It took him entirely too quickly, Thomas’ body moving on its own accord, Griffin’s hands pawing at him like a cheap stripper, and Pearson’s wide open door looked like a gateway to Heaven, or at the very least a convenience store with the automatic slider-doors jammed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Thomas’ voice didn’t sound like his own, but he supposed that it was difficult to even hear properly with all of the blood rushing through his ears, “I will kill you.” The thump in his chest had nothing to do with the fact that his best friend was clearly cheating on his sister with some...some fruity weirdo with floppy hair and stupidly blue eyes, but he was bound and determined to ignore that little fact - ignore the voice that said just tell him already and instead, encouraged the one that said, he’s got a nice neck for strangling.

“This is what you do when we’re not here? Fool around with discount Matthew McConaughey?” It definitely wasn’t a snarl, if you asked Thomas, but the clenching fist at his side, the one not hanging onto Griffin’s half-dead body, promised something lethal.

JAMIE ::

“Fuuuuck-“ turned into “Oh, fuck” entirely too quickly for Jamie’s liking. He was off that dick quicker than he’d moved in a long time. Hastily looking over his shoulder and seeing Thomas’ face twisted in rage should have killed his hard on in an instant, but it didn’t. He’d blame that on how hot Damon was and how far along into their hookup they’d been. “Fuck off Thomas, you two were supposed to be out, anyway!” He stepped into his underwear quickly, pulling on a pair of pants hastily as well. “What the fuck?” Danny was dazed, understandably confused that all of the sudden their hookup for two was now a foursome. Then, “Is that your boyfriend?”

“No!” James replied immediately, forcing a look of disgust at the mere thought of it. Or at least, his best attempt. “You need to go.” There was no salvaging this hookup, unfortunately, and he was just glad that he’d managed to make it to his own room so sweatpants were readily available. Damian had apparently gotten the point and was quickly getting redressed as well. Thomas was still mad, and honestly it was probably best to just let him be mad instead of trying to placate him. Trying that would only make it worse. Nah, he was gonna let the anger run its course and then let it go. But then it hit him, and all the color drained from his face. “You can’t tell her.” The thought of that happening made him want to throw up, and he moved a little closer, eyes wide and a little scared even as he tried to hide it. “It was nothing. Just blowing off some steam, and it doesn’t even count, you wouldn’t have known because you two were supposed to be out!” His gaze turned accusingly to Griffin for a second, and it didn’t take long to piece together what had happened. “And besides, Griffin is drunk, clearly we have bigger problems to worry about.” Yeah, pull focus. Dawson could sneak out while the two of them had a serious talk with Griffin about substance use. Jamie’s gaze flashed to Griffin again. He couldn’t decide which one of them to look at at this point. Griffin was most likely to take his side here, so he probably shouldn’t have just thrown him under the bus.

GRIFFIN ::

Griffin managed a small, two-finger salute to Jamie’s date as he passed by, clothing in his arms - or maybe it looked like he was putting a gun to his own temple, which also seemed applicable. His eyes followed the stranger’s naked ass until it disappeared into the bathroom, just in time to detect his name tumbling into this shitshow. “‘m always drunk,” he shot back in what he genuinely believed to be a solid defense. “Dsn’t count.”

God, he just wanted to be on a horizontal surface, even if it was Jamie’s bed of iniquity, and he considered making a move toward it until his last brain cell insisted that his deadweight was likely the only thing keeping Thomas anchored in place. If he could just defuse this disaster of a situation, he knew the blonde would get him into his own bed. Or the couch. Or at least onto the kitchen floor with a towel for a blanket.

“Tommy, Tommy, TommyTommyTommy, listen ... listen t’ me ... your sisterdsn’t have a dick!” he offered, finally releasing the other man’s shirt in order to wave his hands in a messy what’re-ya-gonna-do gesture. By his incredibly flawed, alcoholic logic, if Pearson wanted to fuck a dude - and understandably so, dudes being as hot as they were - he couldn’t go to Thomas’ sister. No harm, no ... whatever.

THOMAS ::

Thomas steadily ignored his own feline-reminiscent hiss as Hunky Brewster walk-of-shame’d his way out of their apartment, passing it off as some sort of controlling his temper, or silently letting out a prayer to the God he didn’t believe in but heard enough about from Jamie. The heat turned to ice in the pit of his glorious, god-like abdomen after every single ‘Tommy’ that left his friend’s mouth, “Griff, shut your fucking mouth -- and you,” He practically spit, pulling both himself and Griffin closer to the blonde in the bedroom like a boat and a buoy toward the middle of a storm, “It’s not cheeeeeeating as long as you don’t get caaaaught.” Thomas mocked his friend as the storm seemed to settle inside of his own chest, thunder and lightning begging to be let out through some sort of violence.

“I’m going to kick your ass - and then, I’m going to call my sister, and she’s going to come over here and kick your ass, you stupid, useless moron.” The dark feelings seemed to bubble and burst all in one quick second, and if Thomas could have taken a breath and really looked at the situation for what it was, and the jealousy that seemed to eat at him, the conflict likely could have been avoided. But the thick stench of sweat and alcohol from Griffin, and the same aroma from Jamie’s room seemed to override any sort of consideration that Thomas could have provided. And with that, he dropped Griffin like a sack of fucking potatoes and darted for Jamie’s face, hissing when his hit landed. Thomas was too busy cradling his knuckles to know if he’d even hit his damned target, but the swelling would be worth it if he’d gotten to cause Jamie some sort of agony he’d have to live for the next few days too. Once the blind rage passed and Thomas was left shaking, clutching his wrist like grandmother’s prized fucking pearls, he finally bit words for Griffin instead, “I don’t care that my sister doesn’t have a goddamned dick - she’s - he spouts all of this holier-than-thou bullshit that he doesn’t even follow! He just committed sodomized, pre-marital sex! And he wasn’t even on top!”

The words felt hysterical, and the laughter that left Thomas wasn’t one filled with any sort of joy; it was hollow and empty, or maybe not empty, but only filled with envy and anger. He darted for Jamie again, hissing between his teeth.

JAMIE ::

James wasn’t sure when he realized that there wouldn’t be any coming back from this. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Thomas this pissed, and that was saying something. Hell, in the past, he’d helped talk Thomas down from being this pissed at someone else. Now the fury was totally directed at him, and he fought the instinct to move back as Thomas dragged himself and Griffin closer. He wasn’t a coward. “It’s not cheating if I don’t even know his name!” It was. It absolutely was, but he’d learned from the best how to navigate with a broken moral compass. This was quite literally a situation of how what someone didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He’d done this for years, from hurried hookups behind the bleachers to an empty dugout, sneaking out at midnight and meeting someone he’d used to go to Sunday school with. It was a sin, sure, but he wasn’t gay. He went to confession after every incidence, and he was forgiven. It was just that simple.

“Don’t,” he warned, his expression going from worried to murderous. “Tell her, Thomas, and I swear to God.” Might as well add taking the Lord’s name in vain. Today couldn’t possibly be any worse. In that moment, the bubble burst. It occurred to him briefly that Thomas could have set Griffin down nicely, but then it was too late as he felt pain exploding across his cheek. Thomas packed a pretty decent punch, even if he didn’t much look like it. For the moment, he resigned himself to it, didn’t hit back even though his fist balled up by his side and he wanted to. He’d stumbled back after the initial punch, but he regained his footing. And then Thomas was talking again, listing off all the big sins, sins that were meant to be kept in private, in the confessional booth, just him and the priest. That alone made him itch with rage, but he held back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t really want to hurt Thomas. But then he laughed and it all went to hell. He surged forward at the same time Thomas did, and they collided. “Fuck. You!” He threw the next punch, hoping to land a matching shiner, putting his full force behind it. He didn’t care anymore. “It doesn’t count as pre-marital,” he growled, “if it’s not a possibility to marry.” He still couldn’t make himself use the right pronoun.

GRIFFIN ::

Now, granted, he had been wanting to lie down, but hurtling to the hardwood without any warning hadn’t exactly been ideal. Griffin laid there, still more or less grateful to be off his feet, listening to an argument that probably would have seemed a fuckton more intense if it hadn’t sounded so underwater. He even missed the first punch, arm thrown over his eyes as he willed the room to knock it off with the spinning - but he did here the telltale sound of two bodies colliding, and forced himself up onto his elbows. And then onto his knees. And then onto his feet.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey -“ The man had exactly one word in his vocabulary at the moment, which he repeated as he stumbled over to a mound of limbs made up of his two best friends. He was already pushing it, with the walking, but the attempt to pull one of the guys off the other almost knocked him right back of his feet. He survived, though - until a rogue fist that may or may not have been meant for him caught him right in the gut. He reeled back, taking one, two, three steps towards the door before doubling-over and vomiting in the corner of Jamie’s room.

Well, it had been inevitable. At least now that part of the night was over. “HEY.” There he was. Still just as unsteady on his feet, but with renewed frustration, Griffin threw himself back into the mix.

THOMAS ::

"You probably wish you could! I'm pretty fantastic!" Thomas screamed over the man, attempting to shove Jamie, and petulantly ignoring Griffin until the guy practically took an arrow for him, projectile vomiting in the same space as them. "Nice fucking job - punching the fucking drunk. Want to talk to God about that too? You like things in your ass and you hit your best friend!"

Griffin managed to get between them and Thomas couldn't help the muttered, "You fucking reek, dude-" that left him, his arm reaching out to swing wildly at Jamie over the other man's shoulder. How ridiculous, they must have looked, three grown men throwing punches and shouting expletives at one another in the middle of the night. If the neighbors banging on the wall were anything to go by, they probably agreed with him.

"Don't touch me - don't you fucking," Thomas hissed as a spare slap managed to get him right in the nose, rust immediately dripping over the bottom portion of his face, "I'm going to tell her so fucking hard, you son of a bitch," He whined around the hand cupping his nose and mouth, practically shielding himself with Griffin's larger body. "I can't stand you two - I - it smells like shit in here," The babbling continued, even though he really couldn't smell anything with his nose full of blood clots.

JAMIE ::

“I was on top!” Jamie insisted, shoving back at Thomas. He really hadn’t intended to punch Griffin, but he was the one who’d ended up throwing himself in between the two of them. What did he think was going to happen. “I was aiming for you, asshole!” His blood was really boiling right now, and Jesus, how had this night managed to go so horribly wrong? It had started out hot and fun and devolved into, well, whatever this shit show was.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he heard Griffin lose his dinner in the corner of his room. Add that to the list of shit that he didn’t want to deal with. He’d be cleaning it up, of course, because Griffin clearly wasn’t in any state to, and he didn’t want his room to smell like puke while he waited for Griffin to sober up and handle it. The one last slap was admittedly satisfying, but he had to calm down. He had bigger problems on his hands. He had to convince Thomas not to tell her.

It occurred to him way too quickly what he had to do, the only way he was going to appeal to Thomas’ sense of reason. “Fine!” He shouted numbly. “Tell her. But who else do you think is going to be with her? We break up, she ends up an old fucking spinster for the rest of her life. Is that what you want for her? Huh?” He gave one more shove to prove his point. “You tell her, and you break her fucking heart. And for what? Because I’m getting a little on the side that she can’t give me? I’m the perfect boyfriend, Thomas. She won’t get better than me, and you know it.”

GRIFFIN ::

Somehow managing to dodge what could have been a really unfortunate elbow, Griffin was perfectly content with standing between his roommates now that things had boiled over and resolved into a simmer; still hot, still able to burn, but not quite as active. The shouting, he was pretty desensitized to. Between the three of them, someone was perpetually shouting at the other two, or two were shouting at each other, or two were shouting at one (he was usually the one, and he was usually inebriated). It was a special occasion when the trio were all shouting, though, which is normally what got the neighbors involved. Griffin reached over to land his fist on the wall three or four times, acknowledging their neighbor’s participation.

His back was turned to Thomas, who, though taller, was probably less of a real physical threat. As a result, he missed the bloody nose, but he did catch sight of Jamie’s split lip and the scarlet mark that was going to bloom into one hell of a bruise. “Better tell ‘er ya got mugged,” he suggested, finally throwing over a glance over his shoulder to survey the damage that was Thomas’ face. “Botha you. Ah, fuck, are you bleedinon my shirt?!”

Griffin was quiet for the rest of Jamie’s tirade, mostly because this was not his fight, but also because he was on both of their sides, so far as thinking the other was a royal fucking asshole. Kate was the closest thing he had to a sister, and he didn’t love the idea of her getting fucked over, but he would have been smart enough to not let an asshole like James anywhere near her to start with. And furthermore, he’d mean what he’d said, inarticulate as it may have been; monogamy was a societal construct, sexuality was a spectrum, and this was probably the best case scenario for both of them, really. Kate got to seriously level up in the boyfriend department, and Jamie got a doting woman on his arm for the sake of appearances.

“I think,” he opined on a big sigh, running a hand through his hair as though he was going to lay down some actual wisdom - but that wasn’t his brand. “I think that we should get nachos.”

THOMAS ::

Clicking his tongue, Thomas swished the copper around in his mouth, glaring daggers at his roommate. He probably looked like he'd been bobbing for apples in fake blood at this point, but it felt oddly satisfying to look a little deranged compared to his normal well-kempt state. "Should I let her be with a cheater and a liar anyway? Yeah, real fucking smart, asshole --" Even with Griffin's knocking effectively breaking the tension, the neighbors yelling back through the wall, there was something still boiling under the surface.

Something volatile, something that went by the name Jade.

"You don't need any nachos," He murmured, somewhat numb, yet manic. Auto-pilot had taken over, his palm running over his face, and Thomas wiped the mess on the back of Griffin's shirt. Eyes never leaving Jamie's, Thomas slowly slipped forward face impassive, blank. "One more thing," Oddly calm, Thomas reached out with a gentle, blood-smeared hand and laid the palm of it on Jamie's shoulder. He let the moment settle, let the silence take over for a moment, until it was bordering on confusing, before throwing himself forward and headbutting the man in turn, immediate pain blossoming behind his forehead, and spraying them both with his now-unclotted nose. "Bitch," he snarled under the waterfall of blood, before groaning and taking a hasty step back toward his drunken friend, ready to use him as a shield again if need be.

JAMIE ::

"Why, so you can throw 'em up in a different part of my room?" He usually had the decency to at least make it to a communal space, and yeah, James was still a little pissed that he needed to be taken home at all when the two of them had planned to be out and about for the night. It was a valiant effort, trying to get the two of them back on the same side so they could stop with the arguing, but deep down, Jamie knew this wasn't the kind of fight that Thomas would just get over. He'd fucked up, big time, and now instead of facing the music, he was doubling down. It had all seemed so innocent, harmless even, when it was just him and the flavor of the night. If what's his name that started with a D hadn't been so fucking hot, maybe this whole thing could have been avoided.

He ventured a glance at Thomas, partially hating himself for the fact that he'd messed up such a pretty face, but a small little part of himself was satisfied at the damage done. Served him right. How fucking hard would it have been to just turn around and go somewhere else for ten minutes? By that point, the hookup would have been kicked out, and they could all pretend that it had never happened. Jamie could have been blissfully ignorant, and honestly, that was one of the most underrated states a person could be in.

When Thomas put a hand on his shoulder, he tried to keep his expression neutral. As much as he hated to admit it, that hand on his shoulder had grounded him many times in the past, and its presence was all tied up with feelings of comfort and safety, feelings he definitely wasn't getting just now. Sure as shit, next came the sucker punch in the form of a headbutt, and the "Ow!" was almost equal parts pain and surprise. "Asshole!" he groaned, and he couldn't even get to him without Griff getting involved again. "Griffin, just get out of here. This is between me and him, and some of us can't take a hit." Unfortunately for him, all of the hits were starting to take a toll.

GRIFFIN ::

“Ahhrgh, God damn it,” he growled as he felt Thomas’ hand smear his bodily fluids down his back, rolling his shoulders in discomfort before yanking his shirt off, rolling it into a ball and tossing it out into the hall. At least the blonde’s shirt was just as fucked, he noticed, attention on the slightly taller man as he approached James. Good, fine, Thomas would say his final piece and then everyone could just - “Fuck!”

Before he could fully process the sudden movement and the accompanying spray of gore, Thomas has slipped behind him and he was staring down Jamie, the youngest of their dysfunctional little crew. “C’mon, Jay, jus-go lay down,” he muttered, intending to give a good-natured push to the kid’s chest, but still intoxicated enough to not know his own strength. The adrenaline he didn’t realize had been streaming through his system turned it into a fully aggressive shove, and Griffin felt the muscles in his shoulders tense as some part of him anticipated retaliation. Blue eyes flashed. “Go ta’ bed, Jamie.”

THOMAS ::

"Suck my dick, Pearson--" Dark pupils dilated at the shove, watching with intense interest. It wasn't often that Jamie and Griffin disagreed wholeheartedly, or at the very least enough to get into a physical altercation. Usually it was Thomas gravitating toward the violence, toward harsh words that stung and bit at insecurities - usually he was the flint and steel basking at either of his friends' heels.

Still, it ignited something in him, to see Griffin shove the younger man, even if unintentionally. While they all agreed to disagree at who really was whose best friend, Thomas liked to believe he was just as much of a fire as he was the glue keeping them together. "You shoved him, man," The words were weirdly tense, odd even to himself, in the quiet of the room. "You gonna take that?" Blue eyes flick to Jamie's.

JAMIE ::

For a second, he considered it. He wasn't going to just lay down, but getting himself to a different room, where they kept the cleaning supplies probably, and doing something else was probably the best way to handle this. But then he shoved him, hard, as if to make sure to drive his point home. "Seriously?" he demanded, his own gaze accusing.

"You're seriously gonna take his side? I woulda come to get you too, and then none of this would have happened." He shoved back, not knowing or caring if Thomas was close enough to catch him. "You go to bed. I have someone else's mess to clean up, as usual." The puke in the corner of the room wasn't going anywhere, after all.

GRIFFIN ::

As he stumbled back into Thomas, Griffin’s ego maintained that he never would have budged if he’d been sober. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t; really, how often was he truly sober, so there wouldn’t be exactly an opportunity to find out. If he’d been sober, he also probably wouldn’t have lunged for Jamie, taking him out at the waist and forcing him to collapse onto his own mattress. “Said, LAY DOWN,” he repeated, scrambling to straddle the man’s hips, and trying to grab at his wrists. “Enough!”

The word was paired with a death glare to Thomas, who may not have been pinned under him, but only because it was physically impossible for Griffin to sedate both of them at once. “You’re both douchebags!”

“I called you,” he muttered after a moment, still slap-fighting James for submission. “You were busy.” It was completely lost on the brunette, of course, that his current position wasn’t terribly different from the way they’d stumbled upon Jamie a few minutes before.

THOMAS ::

Despite the urge to cover his throbbing nose from any more of the crossfire, Thomas stood back from the other two men, eyes dark and irritable. Thomas was the reliable one - was the man you called when you needed someone to get you out of a mess, or pick you up at the bar on a Friday night at 9pm because you were so drunk you couldn't see straight. He was the ultimate provider, the best friend any guy could ask for. Clearly, Griffin appreciated that more than Jamie.

"Am I interrupting?" He blinked his eyelashes prettily, words mocking as they left his lips. His shirt was the only one left on, and it was...incredibly sticky at that point, if he was being honest. With a grimace, he plucked at the collar, hissing when his hand came away sore. He would be bruised and battered, and rough the following day - no amount of cover-up was going to suffice to hide the giant bowling ball of a bruise on his head, or the massive swelling of his nose. He'd talk like a fucking Lollipop Guild member for a week at this rate.

"I went to pick up this clown while you were out here blowing some guy." Thomas stuck his chin up, defiant despite the angry look sent to him by Griffin, who was oddly being the sensible one (not that Thomas would ever admit that. To anyone. Ever.)

JAMIE ::

James was honestly taken aback by Griffin's sudden lunge in his general direction. He was stupidly effective for being drunk, and Jamie wanted to be mad about it, but he was suddenly distracted by how Griffin was just on top of him like this. He blamed that on the surprise of it all as well. Griffin never would have gotten him into this position if James had seem him coming.

Ignoring the insult, he frowned when Griffin mentioned that he had called him. "Well, what the hell." He could have sworn he would have noticed a phone call from his best friend, but apparently hookup's dick game was too strong. Usually he was much more reliable than this. "Shut the fuck up, Thomas," he said, and the only reason that Griffin was still on top of him was because he didn't want to hurt him on accident. Again.

His face hurt and he wanted to either drink or take some ibuprofen or both and clean up the fucking mess that was still in the corner of his room. "Christ, get off me, Griffin." Why was he the one being restrained instead of Thomas? Thomas started this shit. He gave a considering expression before going for Griffin's ticklish spot instead, hoping the sudden distraction would give him some leeway to get out from under him and back toward his original target who couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his own damn life. "I didn't blow him, I was on fucking top!"

GRIFFIN ::

If he’d been able to read the other man’s thoughts, he probably would have chuckled, the low one that was particularly disarming when it was paired with his trademark sideways smirk. Sure, they’d blame it on the “surprise” and not the decade of running tackle drills before and after school, five days a week. Drunk as he was, muscle memory was a hell of a thing.

That, and puking up a stomach full of bourbon.

“Wash up, look like a fuckin’ horror movie,” Griffin ordered in Thomas’ general direction, not moving a muscle, not just yet. If the two of them were going to lunge at each other again, he could sit right there all night - or at least until the hazy, spinny kind of sleep that went along with being this sloshed came to claim him. “You, jus’ stop talking,” he muttered, quieter considering that James was only so far away from him. “Nobody cares ‘fya sucked a dick, Pearson.”

When he eventually slid from the younger man’s waist, Griffin moaned in relief at the feel of a mattress beneath him, bribing his body to move with the promise that if he stretched out just the slightest bit, he’d finally be able to close his eyes. “Why’s yer bed so nice?”

THOMAS ::

A flash of something dark flickered over Thomas' face, his struggle with authority desperately trying to rear its head. With a calming breath, he tried to pull that little voice inside of his head that sounded like his dumb, quack sister that reminded him about breathing exercises and adrenaline. After counting to 10, Thomas gingerly pulled his collared shirt over his head, the polo wet with moisture and a stink of dried blood. Scrunching his nose, he dropped the offending garment into Jamie's hamper, on top of clothes probably covered in some dude's jizz. "Looks like you have a roommate tonight," He pointed out helpfully, making his way toward the bathroom.

He was back a quick moment later, having procured the small cleaning caddy from under the bathroom sink, including the hand-held spot cleaner. It was uncanny, how many times they'd had to clean up 90% alcohol-vomit, and Thomas hated that he'd grown so used to it after 15-odd years of knowing these morons. "Take your shoes off, you heathen," Thomas spit at Griffin without much effort behind it, focused instead on cleaning the puddle out of the corner of Jamie's room.

After scrubbing for a few odd minutes, and one glare in Griffin's direction later, Thomas picked himself back up, knees aching with the effort of the movement. He was getting old. He stored the cleaning products back in the cabinet and found himself leaning against the doorframe when he re-entered the room. "What food do you want, Griff?" Thomas asked, placated and quiet after the fall-out of so much drama. Getting his face bashed in was a reset button, apparently. Annoying, but effective. "I'm not dealing with the whininess when you're hung over tomorrow."

JAMIE ::

"He started it," James muttered in response when Griffin told him to stop talking. It was juvenile, but he couldn't help it. This whole thing could have been avoided about six ways to Sunday. If Griffin hadn't gotten drunk, if Thomas hadn't immediately started raging about it, if he hadn't brought someone home in the first place. It was pretty clear that they were all partially to blame for this shit show, but the petty side of him wanted to be the one that ended it.

He still had no idea if Thomas was going to tell Kate, but that seemed like a problem for future Jamie. For now, he just wanted to wallow in his failed hookup. He figured that since he hadn't even gotten the chance to get off from this one, there wasn't really a need to do any sort of confessional. Jamie scoffed at Griffin's next words. God cared if he sucked a dick, which also, he hadn't. "Don't tell anyone." These words were directed at both of them, quiet, yet deeply meaningful. He didn't know what he'd do if people found out. Hell, his two best friends had just found out, and he wasn't exactly sure what to do about it.

Jamie had no idea where Thomas was going when he headed out of his room, and a part of him wondered if he was going to make that phone call. Anxiety prickled all over his body, and he had to remind himself to breathe. A moment before he was going to get up and follow him, Thomas came back with the cleaning supplies. A begrudging "Thanks," rolled off his lips as he sat up in bed to address Thomas' next words. Rolling onto his knees, he took off one shoe and tossed it out into the hallway, landing with a thunk. The other came next, tossed in the same general direction. "PB&J?" he asked Griffin, knowing that it'd be best to go for something easier on the stomach.

GRIFFIN ::

This was how the world worked for Griffin Rollins, the way it had always worked. He did what he wanted to do, it made a fucking mess, he smiled and fumbled his way into some unintentional wit, and it all ended up being taken care of ... usually by one of the two bloodied men who were currently milling around the room, no doubt accomplishing just that. He didn’t open his eyes to check. That was the way he preferred it, really; if he never fully noticed just how much other people did to save his ass time after time, he never fully needed to thank them.

“Nachooooos,” he moaned at the mention of food, knowing full well he’d likely pass out before anything that required delivery would arrive at the apartment. As it was, he was already slipping in and out of consciousness. The bed smelled like sweat and Jamie’s shampoo, the sortakinda expensive stuff he got frustrated at Griffin borrowing when his own had run out. It still came from the drug store, but from the higher shelf; not the 3-in-1 body wash bullshit that Griffin smeared through his own hair.

“Go shower,” he mumbled to both and neither of them.

THOMAS ::

With narrowed eyes, Thomas turned to retreat into the kitchen, slapping together a few hastily made sandwiches (which were still entirely too neat, cut diagonally into two separate pieces) and brought them back to the bedroom, just in time for Griffin to begin bossing him around again. "What, this isn't doing anything for you?" Thomas pointed to the bloody mess on his face, chest, and arms.

Rolling his eyes, Thomas passed Jamie the plate, their hands brushing as he released the paper to him. Always something unbreakable, when Griffin was involved. Thomas would have loved to frequently use real plates and cups, but when a bumbling, drunk idiot was constantly falling around your apartment, it was better to have something that couldn't accidentally kill you. "If anyone needs a shower here, it's you. The landlady lives 5 miles away and I'm sure she can smell you from here."

Despite his deflections, Thomas really did need a shower. His blood had become caked and sticky on his skin, drying into flakes that made him want to scratch at his skin like a mangy dog. "Just...eat." With a tired sigh, Thomas ran a bruised hand through his hair, closing his eyes for just a moment. How did he always end up back here?

:: END ::

#001 #gjt

2 notes · View notes

thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

Text

Ink Long Dry: Remember Me

MAHI Prompt Words Used: Guide, Gyr Abania Figured I’d lump this in with my Ink Long Dry prompts, seeing as a lot of it was word vomit to push me into writing again - since I’ve been neglecting it. And it’s rather lackluster (in my opinion) Characters: Maximiloix Voilinaut, Danny Harold What: Young Danny gets a visitor - one he’s really happy to see. Content Notes: Mentions of bullying, f o o d

The home was lively when he stepped in, greeted by his old friend with much gladness in his voice.

“Maxim! Came all the way out here just for us?” Maximiloix offered a bright smile, patting him on the shoulder firmly. “Seems I have! Caro n’I just returned from Gyr Abania - reminded me of ya’.” “Is that right? C’mon in, make yourself at home. I’ll let Tyaka know you’re here.”

It wasn’t uncommon for him to drop by Jeramias’s house, especially after long excursions - the excuse was to visit his friend, to see how he was doing. In truth, he didn’t care much. He came to see another. He watched as three children ran into view, chasing each other around the spaces between chairs and tables, through the halls. One halted upon seeing him, a boy with spun gold hair and the brightest green eyes - the most sunshine smile anyone could have. “Uncle Maxim!”

Maximiloix only grinned in return, kneeling down to boy’s height opening his arms to catch the child as he near tackled him over with a hug. “Danny, my boy! Look how much you’ve grown! Gonna be taller than your Da soon, ain’t ya’?” “Doubt it.” Danny placed a hand on top of his own head - he was shorter than other kids his age, but he did grow a little since Maximiloix had seen him last. Barely thirteen summers old, now, if he recalled correctly. “Where’d ya’ go this time! Got any stories- did you bring anything!” Excitement came back to him, fists shaking in anticipation. “Sorry, kiddo, nothin’ today.” He waited for the eventual pout before ruffling his hair. “Kiddin’, ‘course I’ve got somethin’ for ya’!” Perhaps he spoiled him too much - someone had to. He was often ignored for the affections of his parents. “Gotta take a walk for it first, though, yeah? Ask your Da.”

Danny wasted no time tearing over the carpet, stumbling over his feet to find his father. “Da! Can I go outside with Uncle Maxim!” His father had just returned, tilting his head in confusion. “Leavin’ already, friend?” “Not quite, I’ll be back shortly - just a quick errand.” Jeramias nodded, placing a hand on his hip as he pat his son on the back. “Be good, Danny - I’m serious. Don’t cause any trouble.” “I won’t!”

When they had stepped outside, Maximiloix led Danny through the maze of trees called the Shroud. He had no particular location in mind, simple meandering with the boy who found him more a father than his own. “How’s everything going, kid? They bein’ nice to ya’?” “As much as they can be.” Danny huffed. “Don’t mind it none. ‘Least Tyaka’to ain’t hittin’ me no more, but when it comes to trainin’, he don’t take it lightly. ‘Spite bein’ much bigger ‘an me.” “If you want my opinion, you don’t seem the sword n’shield type.” “No?” “You’re quick on your feet, ever thought ‘bout fisticuffs?” “Nah, Da says it’s too dangerous t’not have a weapon.” “Well, your Da’s wrong. You’d think he’d know otherwise, being from the home of Monks. Speakin’ of. Just got back from there, Gyr Abania.” “What’s it like? I wanna see the world like you do!”

Maximiloix let out a laugh. “You will one day, guarantee.” He spoke of his trip through the Fringes, the Peaks, the Lochs - describing the land, the people, the culture, the history. He offered what wealth of knowledge he gathered on his foray. “What’d you bring this time!” “Got ya’ a couple things.”

It was tradition, he’d bring something back for Danny every so often - but never was it some traditional souvenir, one that’d never be used, or gathered dust. He’d bring parts of nature back. This time was no different. “Got several things for ya’, this time.” He stopped in a clearing, finding a good place to sit - where the boy joined him with a flop into the grass. “Salt rocks from the Lochs, got some for keepin’ and some for cookin’ if you want to give them to your Ma. Then we got branches of th’boughs from the Fringes. Looks like the leaves’re dyin’ already, though.” He passed over each item as he spoke.

Once the branches were passed to Danny’s hands, the leaves slowly regained their color - bark twisting with life. Maximiloix blinked, but said nothing of it. The boy acted as if it were a normal occurrence, and so he too would do so. “Got a couple snacks for ya’ too.” A bag of jerky and a jar of orange-colored juice were pulled from the man’s bag, to which he gladly shared with Danny. To which Danny gladly dug into without a second thought as to what it was. “Ahck! Spicy!” Maximiloix choked on a laugh, passing the drink over to soothe the pain. “Sorry, forgot ‘bout that. Take it slow, yeah?” Danny coughed from the unexpected spice, nodding. “Tastes good, though! S’from Da’s home?” “Aye, he wasn’t partial to it, but I found it good for long trips.” He inhaled sharply, laying back into the grass to stare at the leaves and branches above him. “What else’s goin’ on?” “Mm? Nothin’ much.” “Schooling goin’ well?” “Eh. Kids ain’t that nice. Keep gettin’ pushed around. Erm… now that I think ‘bout it… teachers ain’t that nice either. Say I’m too disruptive, even when I ain’t doin’ anything.” “Are you able to learn anything?” “Not much… only retain whatever y’come back with.” “Then maybe I should talk to your Da ‘bout letting y’come to Ishgard with me. Caro n’I’ve opened a school there - if you’re only retainin’ what I say!” He barked out a laugh. “...I think I’d like that.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

Maximiloix let out a heavy sigh as he entered the apartment, only half expecting Danny to have been home. He ran his fingers through his hair when he realized that he was - lazing about on his couch with a book. “Seem stressed.” “Not any more than usual, I assure you.” “That right?” He shook his head, offering him a weak smile. “Regardless, I just returned from a meeting in Rhalgr’s Reach - picked up some things for you, that you might like.” Danny sat up, eyes bright for a moment - it was rare to see them like that again. “Yeah? What’d y’get?” “Salt rocks from the Lochs, and some jhammel jerky. Careful,” he remembered to warn him, this time, “it might be a fair bit spicy for your tastes.”

Danny tilted his head, brows furrowed in some recognition. “Huh… I think I’ve had those ‘fore. I think Da got them fer me when he was out one day.” The split second of realization - that he might have remembered - Maximiloix got his hopes up. Only to be squashed in an instant. “Aye… that sounds about right.”

#prompt #ink long dry #history will be written #the cold truth #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #songs in the trees #about: Danny Harold #danny got a lot of his habits and mannerisms from younger maximiloix #such as his speech pattern and accent #or how he dropped the sword for fistfighting #cooking and gardening were also suggested to him #writing maximiloix with his accent is so weird sometimes #it just doesn't fit

5 notes · View notes

doof-doofblog · 4 years

Text

“I’m Fine!”

Monday 1st June 2020

Good Morning/Afternoon folks! Once again, I apologise that this post is a little late, I unfortunately missed out on watching EastEnders last night, but I have watched it instead this morning and will cover it today, as well as posting later tonight following tonight's episode. So there will be two posts today! I know last night was the episode everyone has been waiting for, it's been teased as one of the most exciting and different episodes EastEnders have ever done.

Wow! Just Wow! What an incredible episode! I don't think I've seen anything like this portrayed on TV, ever! I want to applaud everyone involved in this episode for making it so iconic and memorable! I'm sure this episode will go down as one of EastEnders most epic and memorable moments. EastEnders have been known to do episodes where it all focuses on just the one character, Dot did it once with a huge monologue that lasted the whole episode, Stacey had one where she was suffering from bipolar and postpartum psychosis, Bobby had one when he returned and was seeing the ghost of Lucy everywhere. This time it was all about Ben and focusing on his hearing loss, giving the viewers an insight to what it may be like for a person living without their hearing.

I was a little bit confused to what was happening right at the beginning, but of course it all makes sense. At first, I thought Ben might've been dreaming, but obviously it was all revealed later on in the episode. I thought it was wonderful how Lexi was using sign language to communicate with Ben, giving him his breakfast and asking him to tuck her up into bed at night, little Lexi is a beautiful little actress. Even when Ben and Lexi were walking through the Square, it was incredible how they did it. Ben not being able to hear exactly what's being said by everyone. He could see lips moving and people talking but not being able to hear just the sound of voices chattering. Even when Jean approached him and greeted him very briefly, he couldn't even make out what was being said to him! When he saw Lola and Peter talking from a distance, he knew something was going on, I thought it was very clever the way it was portrayed. He was so focused on something so far away, he didn't even see the van coming towards him and he nearly stepped out in front of it. Realising what he had done, he realised he might've scared Lexi and told her not to worry, what Lexi said then really touched me ... "Don't die Daddy, I need you. Even if your ears don't work!" - what a truly inspirational little girl!

Then the scene between him and Phil when they were in the house talking about the plans going forward with the job they were being involved in with Danny. Realising that Ben could only make out certain words Phil was saying, he kinda was getting some form of understanding at how the job would go. When Phil was explaining it and showing him the map, you just know that you're going to worry for Ben. Would he be able to go through with it? Even when Ben asked to him to slow down a little so he could lip read, even Phil was a little unsure as to whether Ben should take part. When he told Ben that perhaps he should stay away due to the state he was in with his hearing, Ben was clearly hurt. He was so desperate to prove to his Dad that he could help, regardless of his disability. He's said countless times that he is still the same. He is still the same lad who could help him, but he is very vulnerable, he doesn't want to believe it, but he is.

Oooooh and then he decided to approach Lola, after seeing her and Peter from a distance he needed to know what was going on between them. Even though he knew something was going on, he jumped to conclusions about Lola having an affair with Peter, this clearly and understandably upset Lola and she walked way, while Jay saw everything from afar. Later on Jay approached Ben asking what his issue with Lola was, it was only then Jay revealed to Ben that Lola aborted his baby due to Ben's current situation. To be honest, I kinda forgot that Lola didn't really tell anyone, I didn't realise it was just her and Jay who knew about the abortion. But that just made Ben even more angry, had she really blamed Ben as a cover up? Now, that scene between Lola and Ben in the Arches, I found was very powerful. Both of them shouting and pleading to each other, trying to understand each other, was incredible, especially due to the fact that Ben could only make out certain words that Lola was saying. Lola did admit to him that she only slept with Peter the once, only because she thought that they had split up and weren't getting back together. She also did make clear that the reason for her abortion was because of Ben, how would she have been able to cope with a newborn baby, Lexi and having to look after Ben because of his hearing loss. I hoped Ben would understand where she was coming from, but the question is now, what is Ben going to do with the information about her and Peter? He's clearly disappointed with her, surely he wouldn't tell Jay what she's revealed to him and upset his brother? Will he end up confronting Peter and warn him to stay away?! To be honest, it looked as if he was about to approach the Car Lot when he saw Peter inside, but then he got distracted by the cars arriving to pick Phil up for the job.

Realising he had missed the opportunity to sneak into the cars, he jumped into another car and followed. He arrived at what looked like a deserted building, slowly he made his way through trying to find where his Dad and Danny would be. I thought it was so clever that all you could hear was Ben's breathing and the odd sound of metal rumbling. When he found that liquid on the wall - was that blood?! Whatever it was, it scared him and he felt the need to grab his gun. I was a little concerned as I thought he would be getting himself into danger the more he walked through the building. Only then, what happened? His phone went off didn't it! Poor Callum was texting him asking him when he would be home, little did he know what his boyfriend was really getting up to! Then, he was found, a gun pointed in his back, all you could hear were the shakes and nerves in Ben's voice as he was eventually found, only to be led to a room where his Dad and Phil were.

Both of them looked so shocked to see him there, but it also looked as if Phil had been hit. I am right in saying that Phil had a mark on his forehead? Could that be where the blood on the wall had come from? What had they done to him? For a moment, I did think either Ben or Phil were going to be seriously hurt, only what happened next really shook me! Danny didn't want Ben there in the first place, he was angry that he had shown up and even said to Phil that he wouldn't take the risk. Danny knew Ben had hearing problems, but then what he did next really shocked me! He grabbed Ben, shouting at him "You can't hear me, can you?!" - "Is this your good ear? Is it?!" - and then BANG! ... For a moment, I wasn't too sure whether he had actually shot Ben in his good ear, or whether he had just shot the gun so close to his ear that it caused Ben to screech in pain, as the sound could've easily affected his hearing ability. Even when Danny turned around to Phil and said to him "Say goodbye to your son!" - you could see that Phil didn't want to put his son's life in danger. I don't know why, but I loved it when Ben and Phil were looking at each other and Phil was gesturing to Ben to actually do something, as if to say "C'mon! Get up and fight!" ... was Phil using sign language? Was that how Ben knew what to do? Whatever it was, I thought it was brilliant! Ben and Phil - The Mitchell's back to how they were! When they were battling their way through the gang members, I was like "Yeah!!! Go on boys!" HAHA!

However, they now needed to get away. Now, I don't know about you, but I was more worried for Phil at this moment, when I saw them running away, I didn't think Phil would get that far, but I'm happy and surprised to say that he did! Ben was clearly struggling behind him though, after being shot either in his ear or so close to his ear, the sound was ear-piercing and there was constant ringing in his ears, as much as he was trying to focus on his hearing loss, he was trying to focus on following his Dad. For a moment, I did think he was going to get lost, thankfully Phil came back for him and dragged him away before Danny and his gang could catch up. Phil got them to the van which had all the money inside and quickly drove it away before Danny could reach them. I'm happy to see that they both got away and Phil managed to get his money, but then - did anyone else notice? Complete silence! Ben could no longer hear what his Dad was saying, has he lost his hearing completely? Could this mean that Ben's permanently deaf? Could he still have his operation? There are so many questions to ask, the episode ended on such a cliffhanger! Is Danny going to come back for them and get his revenge? I don't think we've seen the last of Danny, after what happened in that episode, nah ... he's going to want to get to get revenge and I don't think he'll stop until he does. Does this mean that someone close to the Mitchell could get involved, as in like, kidnapped or hurt? What does this mean for Phil now also? Does he have enough money to buy Sharon the Vic? Will he realise what's happened with Ben's hearing? Is Callum going to find out what's happened to his boyfriend and where he was? SO MANY QUESTIONS!

Overall, I thought the episode was incredible! It really was an eye-opener and it gave an insight to what being deaf is really like. Everyone involved in this episode and story-line have been fantastic, Max Bowden really deserves an award for his performance in this episode. Steve McFadden, once again, nothing but greatness! In my opinion this has been one of the best episodes ever. I don't know where they're going to go from here regarding Ben, but i'm looking forward to seeing what happens next. We know this new character, Frankie, has been introduced. After what has happened with Ben and realising he's lost his hearing completely, will he take her up on her offer of introducing him to the deaf community and seeing how they carry on with their lives? It'll be a big insight for Ben and for viewers I believe. I'm really looking forward to seeing what's going to happen next, I am really excited.

Before I leave you, I'm aware that more spoilers have been released for next week's episodes, so I'll leave them here for you to look at. I'll try not to spoil too much for you but, due to a tracking device on his car, Gray finds out his car was driven to Stratford - it was Gray's car Ben used to go to the job - But will Gray jump to conclusions and accuse Chantelle of having an affair? Also Whitney is still clearly struggling, things get a bit awkward after she tries to kiss Gray. Then Keegan and Tiffany are still coming to blows with each other, could things be nearing the end for them? And lastly, Sharon has a difficult day ahead as Ian puts together a memorial for Dennis, what could she and Phil be talking about?

Thank you everyone for taking your time to read my blog! I hope you've all enjoyed it. What an amazing episode right? And we haven't got long to wait to see what happens next. I'll be back tonight with another blog following tonight's episode! Thanks again everyone! Stay safe! Love you all xXx

#eastenders #spoilers #benmitchell #philmitchell #danny hardcastle #lolapearce #peterbeale #jaybrown #leximitchell #ballum #callumhighway #grayatkins #whitneydean #keeganbaker #tiffanybutcher #sharonmitchell #chantelleatkins #ianbeale

6 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

881

Do you prefer trackpants or jeans when you're going out in public? Jeans. Mainly the boujee crowd wears trackpants where I live, and I think I’m too old for that shit now lol. How about when you're just sitting at home, doing nothing? I wear shorts at home, always. They’re comfy and allow my legs more air, and I’m not going to make myself feel hot by wearing pajama pants. Have you ever stayed in your pajamas all day long? I don’t like pajamas, so no. Would you ever consider growing your hair out to your waist, or longer? No. It’s difficult to wash, tie up, and just generally handle when it gets too long, especially considering the fact that my hair is quite thick and can also get frizzy depending on the weather. Do you watch American Idol? I did up until 2012-ish. It was really entertaining at first but when they kept picking the same people to win each season – white country male singer who plays the guitar – I quit watching. On a side note, why do surveys like asking AI questions so much lol

If so, Who do you like better: Danny Gokey or Adam Lambert? Adam Lambert was FAAAR more entertaining, but I do remember Gokey being good too. If you don't watch American Idol, why not? I stated my reason earlier, but another reason I stopped watching was the judges. As soon as all the three original judges left the show, it just stopped being exciting. What's your favourite thing to do to pass the time when you're bored? Depends on where I am. I like taking surveys in coffee shops once I’m done studying. If I’m already outside with people, I’ll ask them if they want to go to the mall. If I’m at home, I’ll try to find something to watch on YouTube or Netflix. I have different outlets for most situations, haha. Do you like staying up late or going to sleep early? I don’t have a preference. I sleep whenever I need to. Is it easy for you to wake up early, or are you a late sleeper? I find that it’s a lot easier to wake up early if I don’t have a lot on my plate for the day. But if I have a hectic day waiting on me, it becomes super difficult to get out of bed. Is there anywhere in your house that you're scared to be alone in? Not necessarily. But being the person in the family who stays up the latest, I do dislike having to check our windows and screen doors to see if they’re all closed and locked after midnight because I always feel like I’ll see someone looking at me. Do you play Rock Band, Guitar Hero or Singstar? I played the first two. I vaguely know of the third. Do you think there's really a difference betwen the three? The gameplay’s the same but the contexts are different. You shift among bass, drums, guitar, and vocals in Rock Band; you only play the guitar in Guitar Hero; and I imagine you deal with vocals on Singstar lol Do you ever yell at your computer when it's frustrating you in some way? I do a frustrated groan or growl, but I don’t yell at it. Have you ever walked into an inanimate object, such as a chair, and apologized to it? Just about always.

Are you scared of any animals/insects? Which ones? Butterflies, bees, wasps. I generally dislike most insects/bugs. Do you get uncomfortable when people stare at you? If it’s a stranger and I’m in a public place where no one has reason to stare at me, I definitely would. What is a sound that you can't stand? Utensils harshly scraping a plate. Do you take a lot of surveys? I’m not as obsessed as I used to be but yeah, I still take several in a day most days. If not, why did you decide to take this one? It was random enough for me, and that’s my favorite kind of survey. Do you like country music? No. What about screamo? Not really. I listen to songs with screamo elements in it, but I wouldn’t enjoy a song that was just screamo from start to finish. Do you own a pair of Converse? Kinda. It’s not mine, but my sister will lend it to me if I want to wear it. What about Vans? No. I don’t have my own; my sister owns a pair as well, but I’ve mostly been uninterested in borrowing it. What is your favourite shoe brand? Nike. Do you like name brands, or find them to be a waste of money? I like them. Do you ever post surveys on myspace, or just take them on Bzoink? I take most of them from Bzoink and post them onto my Tumblr. Sometimes I’ll visit the survey tag on LJ but that’s mostly inactive so eh. What are your three favourite bands? Paramore, Against Me!, alt-J. Three favourite female singers? Beyoncé, Hayley Williams, Adele. Three favourite male singers? Hozier, Troye Sivan, Bruno Mars. Are there any particular bands/artists you can't stand? Meghan Trainor, The Vamps, and for the most part Ellie Goulding. Can you cook for yourself? Nah, but I’m learning. What weird things did you do as a small child? I liked putting myself in danger, apparently. I’d try most things people deemed dangerous because I thought I was invincible. Quick spoiler alert: I definitely wasn’t. What grade are you currently in? I’m on the very very very end of my senior year in college. I’m just waiting for the official memo saying I’m graduating, and I’m off to attend my virtual grad ceremony on the 26th.

Do you plan on going to college or university? I did. You have to if you want to make it anywhere, where I’m from. Do you know what you want to be when you get older yet? I have a general idea, yes.

Who puts the most pressure on you in your life? Nobody does that to me but myself, fortunately. Do you laugh off embarrassing moments? On the outside I do. It makes you look cool and breezy if you laugh them off haha. But when I’m alone they plague me before bed lol Do you have a favourite actor/actress? If so, who? Kate Winslet, Rosamund Pike, Audrey Hepburn, Kristen Stewart. Is there any genre of music you refuse to listen to? Country, and most disco music. Any embarrassing/childish shows you secretly still enjoy watching? I’m not embarrassed to say I love it, but I know people don’t like Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

Do you like little kids, or do they annoy you? If they have bad manners and/or are rowdy and are the type to run around in a restaurant, I tend to dislike them. Do you want a small or a large family when you get older? Small. One or two kids already sounds lovely. Are you a good dancer? If not, do you enjoy dancing anyways? I don’t dance very well but I loooooove watching other people dance. Have you ever lied to avoid getting into trouble? Only when I was younger. I stopped when I realized my mom caught me every single time. Do you like reality shows such as Jon & Kate plus Eight? I like reality shows, but not that. I’ve never heard of it. Do you enjoy reading? Yes, if I get in the mood. What is the weirdest food you have ever tried? Gulab jamun was probably the weirdest one I’ve had so far. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital for a long period of time? Nope. Do you take a lot of pictures of yourself, or are you camera shy? Definitely camera shy. Even Gabie’s not allowed to take photos of me lol, something she complains about every now and then.

#survey #surveys

3 notes · View notes

siribear · 4 years

Text

whisper’s on auto-pilot. deacon notices immediately when her far off stare doesn’t return as the brotherhood airship disappears. and when she looks at him? it’s why he wears sunglasses. eyes are the windows to the soul, they used to say, and hers has left the building.

‘we have to see what that’s about, right?’ she asks with no particular inflection.

deacon shoves his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to her. he slips his fingers around a little curved piece of metal fused to the one piece of brain she left intact. that carnage she left in her wake - the smashed flesh and bone - he can still remember what that’s like.

maccready follows them down from the fort, but otherwise stays silent. kid doesn’t seem like he knows where to go or what to do, after what he’s seen. honestly, he’s surprised the kid hasn’t broken off back to goodneighbor. but he keeps an eye out, and it allows deacon to brush up next to whisper.

‘i figure, we’ve been through a lot together, right?’ he begins, and there’s that thousand yard stare again. she turns her gaze forward, makes a little noise for him to continue. ‘so, i think it’s time you learn the big secret.’

‘another one?’ she intones.

‘nah. the big secret.’ when she doesn’t inquire again, he continues. it’s almost not fun, but she’s his partner and he’s got to coax a little of her back from the edge. ‘everyone thinks desdemona is the leader of the railroad. hell, that’s how she introduced herself to you when you first stepped foot into our little home. but, see, that’s not entirely the truth.’

he pauses, allows her to soak it all in. but there’s no encouraging grin when she turns to look at him. at least in her eyes he sees go on when before it started with i can’t.

‘in fact, i’m the leader of the railroad. desdemona is there just to throw everyone off. more operational security, if you will.’

‘uh huh.’

‘really. when you stepped in, she was ready to have glory mow you down, and what a shame that would have been. but i step in, i say i vouch for you, and bam, here you are. part of my little squad i founded.’

‘you founded the railroad?’

‘not me by myself. there were three of us, johnny d and watts were the other two founders.’ it’s always strange, referring to himself in the third person. even when he’s talking to tourists, introducing himself as john doe. he tells so many lies, no one bats an eye when he’s actually telling the truth. ‘it’ll be... seventy years ago, now. something like that.’

whisper frowns in thought. after a moment, ‘you expect me to believe that you’re seventy years old?’ with a hint of amusement in her voice. there’s his girl.

he shrugs. ‘i did tell you i was old, just not how old. going under the knife helps me hide it.’ he looks to the sky and sighs wistfully. ‘we’ve done a lot of good since we started. saved a lot of synths.’ see, and this may be one of his favorite things about whisper. definitely in his top twenty - when he got to twenty he doesn’t know. but he can practically see the gears turning in her head. pinpoints the exact moment she knows it’s bullshit, but she lets him keep going.

and, hey, deacon’s no good at comfort, but he’s good at talking. ‘look, i firmly believe we’re the last line of defense between the institute and the commonwealth. and based on my last trip to the capital wasteland? maybe even the world.’

‘the minutemen are getting there,’ she mumbles defensively. ‘how is the railroad defending anyone?’

‘it’s not all about synths with the railroad. mostly synths, because who else is going to defend them, right? right?’ she shrugs and nods. ‘exactly. but more than that, we’re building a better, brighter commonwealth.’ here we go: ‘the railroad is the best,’ he hooks his arm around hers, ignores how she instinctively mirrors him, ‘noblest,’ he throws an arm in the air dramatically, ‘organization that’s ever lived. we’re-we’re - ’ he can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him.

‘- having way too much fun?’ whisper finishes for him. not laughing, but there is a smile fighting its way through. being in the railroad for so long, deacon knows how to accept the small victories.

‘you’re catching on too quick, partner.’ he sighs, leaning into her. ‘maybe it’s time i retire.’

‘seventy years? you’ve certainly hit your peak.’

he snorts and untangles himself, wipes away kellogg’s blood on his jeans. ‘i had a point there. really, i did.’

‘go ahead.’

‘you, of all people, should know that other organizations are going to spoon feed you their own bullshit.’ he knows garvey got her with the minutemen, and deacon is still cursing himself for pulling his tourist out of the area so early. but at least she didn’t fall in with the brotherhood. ‘instead, look at what they’re doing. what they’re asking you to do; what sort of world they’d have you build and how they’re gonna pay for it.’

she stares at him, frowning again. ‘give me your assessment, then. what’s your opinion of the other groups here?’

‘i’ll skip over the smaller players. i don’t see you becoming a raider any time soon, even though the railroad doesn’t pay that well. or at all.’ she gives him a quick huff of laughter and he has to physically restrain himself from fist pumping. ‘so, the minutemen. you know i approve of what you’re doing there, but the danger comes when they get too big. you can’t be everywhere at once.

‘the brotherhood is the railroad’s second biggest enemy. between their tech and the bigotry, they’re trouble, especially under elder maxson. and the institute... i don’t think i have to elaborate.’

‘you missed one,’ she says.

he blinks. ‘did i? know something i don’t know, pal?’

‘what about the railroad?’

ah. ‘didn’t you hear me earlier? the best and noblest - ’ whisper elbows him in the ribs. ‘ow. that was the bad rib. but, huh, okay. you know i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t trust them. didn’t believe what we’re doing is the right thing.’

‘i know.’

‘but - ’ there’s always a but. ‘ - i wish we’d help people, too. not just the synths. kind of feels like we’re ignoring one group for another.’

‘you’re spread thin enough as it is,’ she reasons. absolves him and them of guilt. she turns to him with a flicker of her old smile. ‘but that’s what you’ve got the minutemen on your side for. picking up your slack.’

he elbows her for that one. his partner is rude. but she’s talking to him, and it’s a step in the right direction.

whisper wants to go directly to the police station. deacon vetoes, erring on the side of caution that screams showing up coated in someone else’s blood isn’t a good idea. he doesn’t let her come with him to hq, either - he can’t give tom that little brain piece without her noticing. she’s been off in her own world the entire walk to diamond city, but she’s still perceptive. she noticed the caravan leaving hangman’s alley before he did. the minutemen certainly are building up quickly.

diamond city security eyes them warily, but danny sullivan recognizes whisper and allows them in.

‘go on ahead, partner, i just need to talk to maccready here for a minute.’ she shrugs and heads into the city, promising to meet him at the dugout inn.

maccready waits, arms crossed. ‘gonna tell me to leave?’

deacon laughs, low and fake. ‘i’m not your boss, kid.’ it strikes a nerve, but maccready hides it well. ‘i’m just wondering how long you’re going to stick around.’

maccready’s gaze shifts to the entrance. and that’s why deacon wears the sunglasses: they hide everything. especially when his own gaze follows. ‘she hasn’t told me to go - ’

‘great. then you’ll watch over her until i get back.’ he claps maccready on the shoulder. ‘thanks, pal.’

the kid just laughs at him, but heads into the city anyway. at least he knows his partner’s in good hands.

he all but runs back to hq, eager to get there and back. (to whisper, he thinks, but, if pressed, he’ll never admit.) desdemona doesn’t look surprised to see him waltz back in through the secret tunnel. her expression only changes when she notices he’s alone. see, he reasons, even desdemona notices her absence. it’s not just him. obviously.

‘deacon, have you heard anything about this air ship arriving in the commonwealth?’

deacon ducks around one of the support pillars, trying to find tinker tom. he’s not in his little corner, and there’s carrington giving deacon a dirty look but -

‘elder maxson’s brought his people here, full force,’ he tells des when she clears her throat. ‘whisper’s got a plan to get us up there, all official-like.’

‘speaking of,’ she inquires, ‘where is your partner?’

‘taking the night off in diamond city.’ where’d tom get to, anyway? it’s not like he goes outside. the institute is in the air they breathe up there, he’d say.

‘deacon.’ he stops in his tracks at what he dubs her mom voice. just not to her face. ‘if you’ve been running our newest agent into the ground - ’

‘we killed kellogg,’ he says with a shrug. like it’s an obvious thing. water’s wet, sky’s blue, kellogg’s dead. ‘so she’s taking the night off.’

desdemona blinks, stubs out her cigarette in an ashtray on her stone table. how they all haven’t suffocated from her smoking habits, deacon doesn’t know. ‘kellogg is dead?’

‘yep. and i’ve got this little thing here,’ he digs out the little biomechanical trinket from his pocket. ‘that might help us find where the institute is. but first i have to find out where tinker tom went to.’

tom, as if summoned, pops out from around a corner near the make-shift shooting range. ‘what’s up, dekes?’

‘i need to know if we can get anything off this thing. pulled it straight out of kellogg’s head.’

tom takes it out of his hands, holds it up reverently to the light. ‘i’ll clean it up. see what i can do. from kellogg, you said? oh, this will have tons of information, i know it. des, i’m getting started right away!’ he begins immediately, hooking it up to one of his computers. even carrington looks from him to tom to the piece of metal, muttering, from the brain?

deacon puts his hands on his hips and turns to desdemona with a grin. ‘our accommodating general has also agreed to let us station some agents in minutemen settlements. outpost zimonja especially.’

she shuffles through papers on her table, jotting down notes. ‘that’ll help us in moving synths out of the commonwealth.’ she hums, pleased. ‘well done, deacon. be sure to give my thanks to whisper as well.’

‘glad we brought her into the fold, now? or do you still think she’d be better off as a tourist?’

desdemona huffs and returns to her papers. ‘if i admitted you were correct every time you are, your ego would be worse than it is now.’ she casts him a side glance. ‘but she’s been a great asset. i heard about h2-22, and now kellogg? don’t you dare chase her off, deacon.’

‘wouldn’t think of it, boss.’

she finishes washing the blood off her hands, ignoring the stinging of soap in the cuts on her knuckles. if she thinks too much, she can still feel the give of his skull under the butt of the gun, the squelch of his flesh under her fists. whisper rubs harder.

in her room, rented by maccready after vadim recognized him, she undoes the buckles of her ruined combat armor. the splash of blood on her jeans isn’t so remarkable now that her hands are clean, and, besides, deacon’s the one with all the spare clothes. she sits on her bed and pulls her bag over and digs out a holotape from a separate pocket. whisper puts back the little piece of paper the flutters out in its wake.

what would nate think -

whisper loads the holotape, a little strip of clear tape peeks out, her husband’s lettering hi honey! visible, into her pipboy and presses play. immediately she hears the familiar chimes of a mobile. her hand goes to her mouth.

it’s a moment frozen in time, one she can almost see. on the tape, nate laughs and shaun coos, babbling nonsense. ‘just say it, right there. riiight there, go ahead.’ shaun coos again. baba, he says. m-ba.

whisper runs her hands through her hair.

‘i don’t think shaun and i need to tell you how great of a mother you are.’ she can hear the smile in his voice. the warmth. ‘but we’re going to anyway. aren’t we? you are kind, and loving, and funny. that’s right, and patient. so patient.’ he does something that makes shaun laugh again. ‘the amount of times you’ve kept her up late at night, little shaun. countless.’

‘look, with shaun and us all being home together, it’s been an amazing year, but even so, i know our best days are yet to come. there will be changes, sure, things we’ll need to adjust to. i’ll rejoin the civilian workforce.’ she knows how excited he was for that. ‘you’ll shake the dust off your law degree.’ it was on the wall before the bombs -

‘but everything we do, no matter how hard, we do it for our family.’

no matter how hard. she hiccups a laugh. ‘claire, i need help with this speech,’ he had said. ‘you know i’m not as good with words as you are.’

‘now say goodbye, shaun. bye bye,’ nate coaxes. ‘say bye bye.’

she can see him now, sitting on the couch next to their holotape player. he looks up to her, his blue eyes locking with hers, cheeks dimpling as she smiles at her. ‘bye, honey. we love you.’

the tape clicks off, leaving her alone in the silence. she sniffs and it’s deafeningly loud. she breathes, wipes her eyes, and stands. the holotape goes back into its pocket.

‘maccready,’ she says when she reaches him at the bar. ‘i need a drink.’

#siri drabbles #oc: alice ward #series: we will all go together when we go

1 note · View note