#Danny's world is stopped from Time till danny returns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phantomphangphucker · 2 years

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Phic Phight - Dyin’ And Dash

For: @roundaboutnow @phan-pheeking-tastic @lunastarthecat @echoghost1 @fruity-hub-blog @frootysparkycakes @cleanlenins

Sometimes Jazz felt like she was the only real adult in the family, but she was for sure the only one that didn’t think ‘ignore it ‘till it goes away’ was some form of a good plan. And FrostBite just wants the Great One to be treated right.

Jazz was busy making food, bacon specifically, in the quiet kitchen. Normally she liked when the house was quiet, when things were calm and peaceful. But right now that wasn’t the case. The silence was awkward and outright unhealthy. Her parents both fiddling with inventions on the table half-heartedly, occasionally making faces or shaking their heads. Sometimes it seemed like one of them was actually going to speak up, her paying a little more attention every time, but then they never did. It was making her tense but she was also entirely done with it. Tired.

For the first week or two it was okay, understandable even. Her parents had had their world rocked, beliefs shattered, and years upon years of research invalidated. And Danny running off didn’t encourage them to speak up either. Danny doing that also made sense at least, being scared and probably needing to be somewhere he felt more safe. The fact that his home wasn’t the place he felt most safe was extremely unhealthy though. Even more so when the thing that made him feel unsafe was them knowing what he was; was the truth being out.

Maybe if she had been home things would have gone differently. But Danny just would not be open with her about when his change happens. She’s tried to tell him that knowing was important but, well, she guesses it’s just very personal to him. Almost like being at the very moment he died again and again. She didn’t think it was healthy for him to just, be alone, during the change; but he simply wasn’t ready, and she’s not going to break his trust by actually asking their parents what time it was. And maybe, her not knowing and thus not being around to distract their parents, was for the best. Because without seeing his change, she genuinely doubts they would have ever believed him about his halfa status. About what he is. But when you see something , you can’t deny it’s real unless you want to try and tell yourself it’s an hallucination. Which Jazz solidly would not stand for in this situation. And maybe his change working as it did was for the best to, him being unable to stop it, even if being stuck ghost for the next twelve hours likely only encouraged him to run off all the more.

But that very running away was making this situation worse. Originally he had returned home once he was human again, which she’d expected after getting a panicked call from Tucker saying that Danny had texted him that ‘they know’, that she of course rushed home immediately after getting. Making sure to let both of Danny’s friends know that he wasn’t there and that their parents were not trying to hunt him down. She hadn't expected both of them to clamp up, especially Jack, when she tried to talk to them about what happened. All she could get out of them then was that ‘they saw him change’, and nothing more. And she was okay with that, at the time, needing to think about things and sort through your own head after a big discovery was acceptable and healthy. Doing that for a month, was not. And at this point, if this goes on any longer ‘not talking about it’ was going to settling in as the normal. Which she was absolutely not tolerating. Problem was, when Danny had come back, he had only stuck around tippy-toeing around, giving their parents weird awkward looks, and jumping at sudden sounds especially if they were metallic; before he ran off again.

At least she knows where his is this time. Her, Sam, and Tucker, were all well aware that Danny’s getaway of choice was, without fail, the FarFrozen. The ghost yetis. From what she’s heard, they’re really fun, tough warriors, and they all absolutely adored Danny; worshipped him some actually. They were good for him, but this avoidance absolutely wasn’t. Flipping the bacon and shaking her head, at this point she’s done staying silent. Nodding to herself before plating the bacon, both sides evenly heated after a few seconds, turning around and dropping her parents plates down on the table very loudly; making both of them jump and look at her confused.

Jazz grabs her own plate and sits down, folding her hands together and leaning forward, “this is enough. Tell me what happened, in detail, and try to leave emotions out of it till the end”.

They blink, confused, at her. Her dad frowning, “Jazzy-”.

“No none of that. We’re having a talk and then we are talking to Danny. But I have to have the details here, first. So, what happened. Talk anitalticly if you have to”.

The two parents share a look before her mom sighs, the pair looking back to her, “okay, alright…”. And the conversation, a real conversation, begins.

---

—One Month Prior—

Danny was trying to pound through the dumb little essay Lancer had given everyone as a surprise long weekend project. Saying they needed to keep busy and would have lots of time since they didn’t have classes. Not that that meant Danny would actually have any more free time! Sure schooling took up some time but not that much; plus there was no one to force him to work on schoolwork at home really. Except when his sister found out he was behind on something. But why would he want to spend the free time he did have doing schoolwork? He’d rather be relaxing or doing something that he actually enjoyed doing! Schoolwork just felt like a waste of time anyway.

But unfortunately, he got so focused in on things that when his folks had called that supper would be up soon and he had just yelled at them to bring it to him; completely unaware of the time. Big mistake. A big mistake that he had realised when his left fingers had jerked and had their spasms halfway through writing the little paragraph on the symbolism of lilies of different colours (Ancients, what a waste of time). Him pausing, lifting his hands off the keyboard and staring a little, well shit. Grabbing his upper arm and hissing a little before pulling the limb to his chest. He’d gotten used to it hurting a little, but that still didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

And then his bedroom door opened, his dad busting in, bellowing like he usually did, “food for working bellies!”. His mom sticking her head in as well, “Jack, you forgot the orange juice, the milks no… good”, her petering off when she finally saw him. Danny sitting pushed back from his desk some, clutching his left arm with a death grip while it spasmed, staring wide-eyed at them. Jack dropped the plate when Danny’s eyes started fizzing to a neon glowing green.

Danny snapping his eyes shut once he realised, trying to grit out, “oh. You can, take it back, back down. Decided, I, um, want to have, food down, with you, guys”, and trying to smile without it looking too much like a wince. But he already knows it’s too late, feeling his rings sparking to life even though he was futilely trying to force them to stay in his core.

“Danny? Danny!”.

He doesn’t need to guess to know that his mom just ran over to him, seeing as he collapsed out of his chair. Crouching on the ground, on his hands and knees, and panting through the rings and the way they felt like they were burning him but without the pain of burning as they past.

“Jack!”.

His dad trying to grab the rings, which always felt like someone was trying to shove their hand into his core. Danny pulling away and closer to the ground, “don’t!”, and glad when the rings finish their job and dissipate. Him spawning a little, popping his eyes open to white hair and panicking now that he wasn’t stuck in his change.

They saw that!

He didn’t want anyone to see that!

But more than anything. They knew what and who he was now. This was BAD. Him using a hand to push himself off the floor and towards a wall. His energy not quite settled enough to be phasing through anything; but his hand is to the wall repeatedly trying desperately, and he’s gonna keep trying ‘till it works goddamnit.

They stare at the ground where he just was for a beat before moving their eyes then heads to look at him slowly.

“D-Danny?”.

His dad just stares.

Danny swallowing, “ah?”, and then phases through the wall with a startled look. They had run at the wall almost immediately, Maddie moving to look out his window, barely spotting him having landed in some trash below before he turned invisible.

And while the two parents stared down before Jack slumped down onto the floor and Maddie sat on the edge of Danny’s bed just staring at the floor. While they were doing that, Danny had panicked and ripped open a portal to the first place he could think of where he would get left alone. Riverlitheof all places, Nocturne’s domain. His body felt so taught with nerves and panic that passing out felt like an ideal situation and he knows Nocturne won’t harm him? Won’t harm him so long as he does actually sleep anyways. And unsurprisingly the ghost had scooped him up immediately, scowling over their land being intruded upon. But Danny’s too busy thinking up horrible nightmare scenario's to care. And Nocturne, like always with a dream ghost, the ghost god of sleep and dreams and nightmares, they could see his slight waking visions of horror; and Danny knew that.

They shake their head at him, “you never sleep well enough, little one”, using their night sky blanket-like cloak body to lay him down on one of the cushion clouds, “no more nightmares for now”.

Danny just whimpers and curls in on himself some, what was he even supposed to do now? with everything? He didn’t want to be taken apart piece by piece so they could see how he worked. He didn’t want them to hate him or think he was a freak. And he very well couldn’t go back as he was now. Muttering, “I didn’t know where else to go”. He didn’t want anyone to baby him or what to ‘have a talk’ or try to play with him like everything was normal and fine. He wanted to not be anywhere and just turn off. Nocturne… Nocturne could do that.

And the ghost nods, sending the stressed out halfa on a peaceful ride through the dreamscape for a while.

---

Jazz nods, for her the story stopped with Jack and Maddie going down to the lab and staring at all the samples and readings they’d taken over the past three years of Danny’s supposed ecto-contamination and of Phantom’s being; eventually passing out down there with everything they thought they knew collapsing in around them and evidence of something that they should have seen and realised long ago. Jazz nodding, after all, passed out in the lab is how she came home to find them before waking them up and trying to question them. Trying and failing of course. That’s part of why they’re here now. And why Danny’s not.

Jazz nodding at them, “alright”. They both nod back slowly.

Her dad looking at his hands, fiddling with them, “so… that was, uh, real?”. Jazz nods slowly, “yeah. Though I’m not the one you should be asking that to”. Her mom glancing up towards where Danny’s room was, “when will he be coming back”, frowning and clutching the rim of her empty plate, “where'd my baby go”.

“Somewhere else he feels safe”.

Jack frowning, “and that’s not here?”.

“Why would it be, dad. You guys walked in on something he was hiding and you’ve hurt him many times. But Amity in general honestly isn’t really a safe place for him either; I don’t think I need to point out why”.

The two parents share a look, both looking back to Jazz. Maddie speaking up, “because he’s fighting all the time”. Jazz nods softly. Her pushing herself to stand up, “now, like I said, this has gone in long enough. I’m going to bring him back here and we’re going to have a conversation”. They both look nervous and unsure, a little upset even. So she gives them a hard look, “I know what I need to and this radio silence isn’t doing anyone any good. Go sit on the couch and don’t run up and hug him or anything when I get him”, and heads upstairs so she can grab one of her little summoning papers, she had to make a point to memorise Danny’s sigil so she could assure herself of her ability to summon him if she had to get him out of somewhere or to somewhere. The two parents do as they're told, having some faith in their daughter that she knew best right now.

---

Danny, meanwhile, was playing a game of snowdew fox throwing with ShardHeart, technically his dodging was better than hers but well, he wasn’t really trying to avoid getting hit by the cuddly fox-like creatures that adored being roughed up and thrown about. Besides, getting pelted by stuff felt good, felt normal. Especially when it wasn’t accompanied by pain. Both turning their heads at the beautiful crystals bell of the banquet hall chiming out. Heh, nice, food time. Danny throwing a smirk at ShardHeart before bolting off, the older ghost giving chase right after; not that she expected to win though.

Danny landing inside and sending a smile ColdStep’s way, “so what’s on the menu this morning?”. The guard chuckles, “bellan brisket and shavinary, I believe Great One”. And then ColdStep absolutely beams when Danny proclaims that: “oh! I love bellan brisket!”. A small voice carrying over from where the icebakes were, “oh I’m not surprised by that, you have some peculiar tastes”, and SunkenBlink steps out levitating the food behind her, “you know, bellan brisket is meant to be a punishment of sorts, my lord”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “tastes like it would make for a great smoothie to me”. And someone else can be heard gagging. And yeti gagging sounded pretty funny in Danny’s opinion, kinda like a cat about to have a hair ball but bass-boosted and with a ghostly echoing to it.

FrostBite walking in to bows from his people before smacking Danny one on the back, “you’d be the one to say that! But I’d say dig in then!”, laughing heartily, “I’m sure the little uns would be happy with you putting a dent in the portions. Though do keep in mind we’re supposed to be fasting right now”.

Danny chuckles very awkwardly, “yeah yeah, I know, Frostypa. I won’t stuff myself”, and he frankly wouldn’t want to when he was hours away from his change time. It was more difficult to handle ecto-food when he was human.

Danny getting halfway through the -larger than everyone else- portion of food he took for himself when FrostBite asks, like he did every day, “do you intend to stay with us this full turn of the cycle?”. Danny nodding, making the large yeti sigh, “we’re glad to have you as always, but even I must say that it’s been quiet some time. I’m sure you’re greatly missed, Great One”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, blushing green a little, “oh I don’t know”, frowning, “I’m not sure I’m even wanted there at all”.

FrostBite shaking his head immediately, “makers and guardians alike love their young, always-”.

Danny butting in, “no. Not always. Well, guardians maybe, but markers? Not so much”.

“For a maker not to, that would be tantamount to treason against the whole”.

“Humans aren’t communal like that, Frosty. To mine being friendly like this with ghosts is the horrible thing”.

FrostBite sighs and shakes his head, munching a little, “well you certainly can’t avoid them forever, young hero”. In all honestly, FrostBite wasn’t sure how he felt about The Great Ones makers, he had seldom heard good things. And they were hurting him by their actions and intolerances. The Great One was stressed and overly burdened by much, he wished there was more he could do beyond the FarFrozens open doors; which were open to very very few. But… swallowing and stick up a single claw, “on better subjects, I have something for you”. watching the boy's eyebrows raise, “oh?”. FrostBite nods, “I think you’ll like it! And-”, giving him something of a judgmental look, “-it’ll encourage you to be a little closer to that ghostly heritage and maybe help with your nerves over future problems”. The Great One doesn’t look like he knows what to make of that, but once he finishes his own food and FrostBite gets up, he follows readily and curiously.

FrostBite popping open one of the farming doors, waving The Great One over to the blob fields. Moving them around with a hearty laugh, The Great One laughing himself some, until FrostBite finds the one he’s looking for. Picking up a truly exquisite specimen, crystal blue with a slightly transparent body, lighter blue icy ectoplasm swirling around inside and sparkling wonderfully. Turning to The Great One and holding out the blob, the little guy looked just big enough to be used as a pillow by the smaller ghost… half-ghost.

Danny blinking, going a little wide-eyed, “oh! Is… are they for me? Are you giving? me a blob ghost? Why?”; he’s legit confused, but he does like the distraction. Watching FrostBite nod eagerly, grinning, “yup!”, holding out the blob a little more, “they’re pretty common pets, you know. They’re great emotional and physical support pets too, they can be crutches or just cuddle buddies”, chuckling, “they won’t even complain if you sap some energy from them to replenish yourself”, plopping them down in his hands when he actually holds said hands out, “but mostly, for you really, they’re good for stress, fidgeting, they’re an ice type so they’re cooling to the touch if you need to calm down or bring down swelling on an injury”, shaking his head and putting his paws on his hips, “honestly you should have gotten one some time again. But it takes a while to specially breed one”.

Danny blinks, tearing up a little, genuinely touched, “you specially breed them for me”, looking up from the blob to FrostBite with a level of awe, “I- thank you, FrostBite. Really”. And the yeti was right, this would probably help him a ton, he had no idea blob ghosts were anything more than pests or general fauna that just kinda floated around. FrostBite pats him on the head and ruffles up his hair, “of course!”, smiling, “you are our saviour, though I care for you beyond that. And you need something like this, truly”, and hugs The Great One.

And it was at that very moment the glowing lights of a summoning circle swirled open directly underneath Danny. The two only having enough time to look down in surprise before being teleported away.

---

—Moments Ago—

Jazz walked into the living room, holding up a square of paper, “this is a summoning card. I know Danny’s sigil by heart in case of emergencies”. Walking over somewhat near the armchair and nicking herself with the corner of the paper so she can draw out the mark, “and yes you have to use your own blood for these, hence why they’re not used often”.

The two parents just nod while the paper glows faintly before lighting on white fire, Jazz letting go and the paper simply floating, flaming in the air. Jack can’t help but blurt out, “woah!”. Making Jazz roll her eyes with a smile. The flames swirling out, bigger than she was expecting and making Jazz step back some, before revealing TWO stunned figures inside.

Jazz blinks harshly.

Jack openly gapes.

Maddie squeezes her knees and resists drawing out some kind of weapon.

Danny squeaks of all things.

FrostBite tightens his grip on the Great One.

And then the blob starts making upset warbling sounds.

Danny and FrostBite snapping their heads down to the complaining blob, gliding apart some. Danny glancing back to his parents’ nervously and planting his feet slowly on the ground; FrostBite copying him probably to be polite or seem like less of a threat.

Jazz shakes herself off mentally, this was an unexpected surprise and a serious hiccup. Getting their parents to talk with Danny as Phantom still was one thing, but a full large ghost they’ve never seen before? It might very well be asking too much. But also, eyeing the… yeti’s solid gold finery and the ice arm, “are you FrostBite?”. The ghost looks surprised, eyebrows raising so much it practically changes his entire face, “oh! Well yes, yes I am”, stepping forward but only by one step when he spots the Great Ones makers, he assumes, tensing, “and you must be Jazz then, I take it?”. Jazz nodding and smiling readily, glad she was right on where Danny was and also having heard more than a little fond gushing from Danny about FrostBite particularly.

Maddie swallows, opening her mouth once, twice, then finally managing to actually speak up, “FrostBite?”, shaking her head and biting her lip, making a point to look at Danny, “Danny, sweetie.. are you, alright?”. Jack looking to his wife then back to Danny, “I think we’ll all need to talk”, forcing a bit of a smile, “it’s been a while”.

Jazz looks around at everyone, nodding curtly to herself before eyeing Danny, “you, sit. I’m tired of everyone avoiding each other and everything that came out. So we’re having an intervention”, and points to the armchair. Danny eyeing the chair before just kind of shuffling over to it and sitting down, blob ghost buddy settling down in his lap. Well, here’s hoping there really is something to be said for the emotional support of something round and squishy; him putting a hand on top of them to seem a little less stiff, “yeah”, clearing his throat and sounding a little stronger, “yeah we do”. FrostBite also nods to himself, taking a couple steps back as subtly as he can, and just kinda goes to stand awkwardly behind the Great One, near a corner. Perfectly content and willing to defend him if he must. Verbally or physically.

Jazz sits down herself, crossing her legs and folding her hands over one knee, “alright, so”, looking to Danny, “mom and dad explained matter of factly what happened. So what we’re going to do now, since the family’s all in the loop, is talk about it. Not everything, but enough”, and nods curtly to herself, looking to their parents, because really, they have to start. They were the parents and they had done wrong by Danny. The only thing Danny ever did wrong by them was hiding himself, which was their own fault to a degree.

Maddie nodding, shifting on the couch some, “well, ah, are you okay?”. Danny blinks a little, slightly startled, “um, yes?”. Jazz puts her head in her hands, gesturing at their dad to ask something instead. Their dad letting out a small breathless laugh before looking to Danny, “the episode thing”, shrugging helplessly, “I don’t know want it’s called or anything”, rubbing his neck, “ah, so that didn’t seem very fun. Did… that hurt? You’re okay from that?”. His wife giving him a thankful look.

Danny squirming, that was kind of the last thing he really wanted to talk to anyone about. But… shrugging, “it does but it doesn’t”, shrugging again, “it’s more like… a muscle memory of hurt than actually hurting. It’s just kinda normal though so…”, and shrugs for a third time, the blob making little squeaky noises, so Danny gives them a little pat; not noticing FrostBite’s small smile at that.

his mom frowns, “that’s… normal?”. Danny nods, Maddie gesturing at him, “and this, this looking like Phantom? Being Phantom? That’s normal too”. Jack butting in, “and how, if that’s cool to ask”.

Danny grimacing, “I’m Phantom yeah, always have been. The portal accident… kinda killed me”, quickly adding on, “but it didn’t stick”, shrugging, “or it only stuck half the time”.

“So sometimes your alive, sometimes you’re not?”.

“Pretty much. It’s a half and half thing”, pressing little patterns into the top of the blob and watching their ‘skin’ indent, “twelve hours human, twelve ghost. And my ghost time is marked by, well, by the time of my death I guess”. He’s not surprised he can see them cringe at that from the edge of his vision. his dad frowning, “so when we walked in on.. that, it was the time you died at”.

Danny nodding and looking to Jazz with a raised eyebrow. She shakes her head, “they didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask; and I don’t plan to”. Danny grins at that, meaning it when he says, “thanks”, looking back to his parents, “I don’t really like anyone knowing the when. I don’t really have a choice with the how, but the when is just personal I guess”, and tries playing it off a little with a shrug. The blob bumps his chin, which does genuinely make him feel a little better.

Jack laughs a little too loud, making Danny jerk a little while the man speaks, “well we don’t really remember the when! So you’re good!”, sighing and deflating a little, “we were focused on suddenly finding out about you and all that. All the research and everything else that has to be wrong and how we could have possibly missed this”, rubbing his neck, “us being kinda awful to you”.

Maddie smiles faintly at Jack, then pursing her lips at Danny, “but all the robberies, and threatening the old mayor. What was all that?”. Jack instantly butting in, “the ‘stealing’ our stuff is whatever, technically it was yours already anyways!”. Which does make Danny let out a single laugh.

Danny grimacing though, “the robbery thing, I wasn’t willing in that. Mind control sceptre situation. And the old mayor was framing me, he was possessed by a ghost that just really hates me”.

FrostBite scoffs in the background, “Walker isn’t worth half his ectoplasm”. Danny smiling a little at the ghost, following up with, “and none of his fearsomeness”, before looking back to his parents awkwardly, “so, uh, just misunderstandings?”.

Both of his parents exchange a look before sighing and sending him smiles. His dad speaking up first, “glad to hear that! Really!”. Maddie nodding, “so I guess we really had you wrong then”. Danny just shrugs. Her biting her lip, eyeing the massive ghost vaguely in the corner, “but what I don’t really get is how”.

“How what?”.

“How you’re, you know”, gesturing with both hands, “good”.

Danny’s slightly confused for a beat before realising she wasn’t exactly convinced that ghosts weren’t all evil dangerous beings, frowning. “Because that’s just who I am as a person? Ghost and bad isn’t any more synonymous than human and bad is”, at least the blob wiggling into his stomach kinda kills the slight anger though.

FrostBite actually stepping forward, talking with his hands slightly, “most of the ghosts that do pester him aren’t exactly well-liked or thought highly of actually”, huffing to himself, “I’d like to see most of them tossed in a proper jail, personally”. Which Danny rolls his eyes at, but the blob bumping his left arm kinda aggressively and inquisitively makes him look down, frowning a little and craning his head to look at the kitchen clock. Crap. He needs to change. Not quite yet but soon. Looking back to everyone, “um, can I go? I-”, rubbing his neck, “will, ah, need to change soon here”.

His parents actually jerk, noticeably surprised and caught off guard. Both nodding readily, Jazz shooing him off. So Danny gets up and shuffles upstairs extremely aware of all the eyes on him, slightly squishing the blob to his chest. It’s official, he likes the little guy.

Him slumping to the floor, back against his bed and setting the blob down on the floor next to him. Sighing and running a hand through his white hair before eyeing the blob and smiling, “you got stuck for one Hell of a ghost, little guy”, making a face, “gosh I should really name you shouldn’t I”.

---

Jazz eyes the stairs a little longer, sighing to herself. This is an example of why she thinks it would be better if they all knew when his change time was. She would have done this sooner instead. But she’ll respect his wishes and won’t harp on him for this one. Looking back to her parents, “so how are you guys feeling?”.

They look at her a bit confused for a second. Before her mom looks up at the ceiling and back down, “alright, Jazz. Alright. But…”, looking to the ghost, who looks slightly unsure what to do, “what do you mean?”. Jack adding in, “do you ghosts actually like him???”. Jazz sending him a bit of a pained expression.

But FrostBite chuckles instead of being offended by the ‘you ghosts’ thing, “of course! He’s our saviour! And besides that the Great One has a truly remarkable character”, smirking, “and is quite an amusing little menace”.

Jazz quirks an eyebrow at that, “a menace?”, while her folks stare. FrostBite laughing heartily and grinning wide, “if you want to see a frostlings snow dive like never before, tell them the Great One’s practicing his ice”, and smirks, “he causes quite a bit of damage every time. Fleeing from ice lance misfires is a very interesting way to exercise your reaction time”.

Maddie holding up her hands, “wait wait, ‘Great One’? ‘Saviour’?”. FrostBite blinking disbelievingly at the woman, “well yes? He bested Pariah just as things were foretold. That makes him our saviour and the prophesied Great One”. Maddie just looks more confused.

Jack tilts his head, “it almost seems like you see him as a god?!?”. Which Jazz can’t help but giggle over a little, putting a hand in front of her mouth and nodding. Her dad looks like he’s impressed but also very confused; mostly impressed though. So that’s good.

Maddie forwning a little, “prophesied how? And how was beating Pariah ‘saving you’”. Jazz answers for the ghost, “there’s ice cave paintings of him”; they don’t look any less confused.

FrostBite nods, “indeed! And Pariah being free was a threat to the Infinite Realm at large. To all of our existences. Him being trapped again is nothing short of an act of salvation. The FarFrozen, my people, likely would have been wiped out by him. Since we’re a warrior clan and could have opposed him one day”.

Jack scratches his head, “still don’t get how he could be on cave paintings”, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at the ghost, “but ghosts paint?”.

“Of course!”, shaking his head and eyeing them, “the Great One was not wrong when he said his makers didn’t understand ghosts or our culture very well”, frowning, “I would be more than willing to answer your questions, if that would help you accept him or treat him as well as he deserves to be”.

Maddie blinks, putting her chin on her fists, elbows on her knees. Eyeing the ghost, “you… care about him”. The giant yeti nodding readily.

---

Danny flinches, feeling heat spreading in his left arm. Opening and closing it with a sigh. Like always it felt like all the warm blood in his body was rushing into the limb all at once. And his heart starting up again, feeling like it was fighting his core making him wheeze slightly and bend in on himself from lungs that weren’t there yet trying to force him to actually properly breath.

The blob warbling and bumping into his side, him sending them a smile; not really able to talk at the moment. Feeling the sensation of tears opening in his throat from screaming too damn much before his rings finally pop out. Passing over him in a way that made all his bones ache for a few seconds, and leaving him wheezing on the floor. Him swallowing and moving to pat the blob weakly, them vibrating and pulsing energy at him… It did actually kind of feel good. Soothing. Him sighing into the carpeting, which was a little gross from general floor yuck, medical stuff, and probably blood and ectoplasm. Sighing again before pushing himself up with a small stagger. Grinning down at the blob, gesturing with his hands for them to come to him, and heading downstairs with them in his arms.

Coming down to FrostBite basically floating that, “the Draconics and Mythos kingdoms are also quite fond of him!”. Danny blushing and trying to ignore his parents staring at him as he sits back down; blob ghostie settling happily in his lap. FrostBite looking to him with a grin, “how are they treating you?”. Which just makes him blush more, “good. Think they like me already. Might be a little confused though”. FrostBite laughing, “well they should! I lined their nest with a few of your more.. well worn, shirts”.

“Oh Ancients”. He almost feels bad for the blob ghost now. HE wouldn’t want to sleep snuggled up with his smelly crusty abused clothing. Eugh.

His mom quirks an eyebrow, shifting and occasionally eyeing FrostBite, clearly still not really comfortable with him while talking to Danny, “why do you have a blob ghost?”. FrostBite answers for him though, eyeing Danny, “I decided he could use an emotional and physical support pet. A blob was the ideal candidate”. Danny blushes and rolls his eyes but nods at his parents. Jazz beaming at him, “good. You definitely could use that”.

“Jazz”.

“It’s true”. Jazz looking back to their parents, “so. Anything else”.

The parents exchange a look before bowing their heads to Danny, “we’re really sorry for hunting you and everything”. Both sitting back up, Jack smiling a little, “think we could be a family again? A real one?”. Maddie, eyeing FrostBite, “clearly we were really in the wrong”; and she makes a weird face when FrostBite grins wolfishly at her. “We don’t want to lose you”. Jack butting in, “whether you’re a ghost half the time or not”, grinning sheepishly, “and then game night can come back?”; making Maddie roll her eyes at him fondly but also sag a bit in relief.

Danny looking at both of them individually then down at the blob, smiling at them when they chirp. Holding them up and out at his parents, “pat the blob and we’re good”.

His dad chuckling and doing it with very little hesitation. His mom eyeing the boinging sound they make and all the wiggling before giving in and patting them tentatively.

FrostBite chuckles, looking to the Great One, glad things turned out well, “I should probably get back to my people, not that this, you reconciling with your makers, wasn’t worth the trip”. Danny rolls his eyes a little but nods, “have SunkenBlink mail me the rest of my portion of bellan briskets that I know she made me”. FrostBite actually grimaces at him, “you are more than welcome to it, I’ll see to it”; and phases down through the floor, making Danny’s parents jerk a little.

His dad quirking an eyebrow, “something you like but others find gross?”. Danny nodding with a bit of a smirk. His mom tapping her chin, “so… ghosts make food?”.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah they do”, shrugging, “it’s kinda hard to digest when I’m… you know, uh, human and all”.

His dad tilting his head, “but you still can?”. So Danny shrugs a little looser, “yup. I’ve always got my core so I’ve got what I need to process it, just takes a bit and my stomach won’t be super happy with me”. His mom frowning, “well then you really shouldn’t, Danny”.

“Mom I’m fine”.

Jazz grins to herself as Danny and their mom start lightly bickering about his diet and taking care of himself. Including if he needed ecto-energy. Which yes, yes he did. Just like with human food he simply needed less. Walking in on him downing a vial of ectoplasm was an… interesting way to find that out since he had been really embarrassed. But regardless, the blob has themselves perched on Danny’s shoulder, seemingly fiddling with his hair, and their parents weren’t harassing him about it.

Good. She’s gonna call this intervention a resounding success. New blob pet or not.

Though she’s not surprised that it takes well over a week for the blob -now named Rotundas of all things- to not be effectively attached at the hip to him. We’re they being protective? Wanting as much of their master as possible? Sensing that he was still stressed out and adjusting to his parents actually knowing? Hard to say, but she supported it either way.

End.

Prompts: instead of being able to switch forms willingly, Danny spends 12 hours in human form and 12 hours in ghost form. The switch from human to ghost occurs at the time of his death. and It's been a month since Maddie and Jack saw Danny transform, but they haven't had the nerve to talk about it yet. Danny's avoiding them as much as possible. Jazz is not having it and stages an intervention. and There's a reason why Danny's first choice is Far Frozen whenever he needs help or advice with something. He trusts them. Though sometimes, whenever he's stressed or just wants a break from Amity, hanging with the Yeti's is just the stressbreaker he needs. Besides, it's always fun to learn a little about their culture and a bit more about what it really means to be a ghost. (Basically a social visit to the Far Frozen) and Jazz meets Frostbite for the first time. and Ghost blobs can be used as emotional support ghosts! Danny, Vlad, or Dani gets one! and "I didnt know where else to go" with your choice of villain. and Frostbite worries about the Great One, so far away with so much responsibility on his young shoulders. He should do something

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2022 #reveal #danny fenton #jack fenton #Maddie Fenton #jazz fenton #frostbite #nocturne #blob ghosts #emotional support pets #fanfic #phanphic #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker

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thevoidscreams · 3 years

Note

I don't care which slashers/killers you do for this BUT...... May I have some killers hcs meeting their male s/o for the first time? 🥺👉👈

also I know I need to get through what little writings I have planned done and out so I can do these in return and maybe do somethin for ya

I really tried here, I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted. I love these two and I wanted to write more for them. Please let me know if you'd like me to change them at all or if they seem wrong.

Ghostface:

Danny Johnson did not have a tolerant upbringing. His family, despite lacking any sort of faith, was a family built on the foundation that men only slept with women. That's just how it was and that that was how nature had kept things going. When Danny realized he didn't just get hard when looking at naked girls however, life became a lot harder. Literally.

Collage was the escape he needed. He took off and never looked back. Ghosting his family before it was a regular thing. He could finally be who he really was.

The first time he saw you was at a party and he knew something was different. Just introducing himself felt like a life or death situation, he couldn't fuck this up. Some deep part of him needed you to like him, needed you to want him. Danny man not have called it love at first sight but it was definitely something. When you left you took his number and promised to hang out later. You had similar schedules so it would be easy. Right?

You threw a wrench into every plan he'd set in place. All his aspiring affairs with other people died the moment you gave him your name. Your perfect name.

Danny begins every morning thinking about you and would lay down at night with you on his mind till he faded into sleep. Everyday for months you plague his thoughts. Your chill sessions are basically dates in his mind. Even if it's just bumming it on the dorm couches with Mariocart and eating cheap greasy pizza. He cherishes every moment. It has to be more, he thinks, your too nice, too friendly and some of your remarks could be taken as flirting. You're not like this with your other friends. Just with him.

He plans to ask you out but for the first time in his life he's scared by the idea of getting a no. The thought of being rejected by you makes him feel legitimately sick to his stomach. What if he's misread all your signals and your disgusted by his advances. What if you call him all the awful things his old high-school friends did when he came out to them. He needs you to know how he feels, keeping it all in is making him feel anxious.

He was mulling it over in his mind when he got a call, answering it to hear your voice caused a sudden feeling of euphoria within him. "Hey, can we meet up?" Your voice was shaky and you sounded unsure. But Danny agreed right away, assuring you he had the time and was happy to meet up.

You two got coffee together all the time but today there was something more to it. The way you laughed and bumped his shoulder with your fist, the way you smiled awkwardly like you were trying to keep something from him. Danny was getting worried as he looked down at you. "Is everything alright shortstake? You seem off today."

You took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. "DannyIlikeyou" you blurted out cheeks red and eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry I just I couldn't do it anymore," you looked away, "keeping it all in made me feel so awful and I just needed you to know. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and if you don't want to see me again I'll understand that too but-"

He kissed you, right there in front of all of the coffee shop patrons and employees. To his amazement a few people wooped and clapped.

Danny pulled away, he took his coffee in one hand and then your hand in his other.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

He led you to a little pond, there were ducks and water lilies. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect place to have a heart to heart.

The talk that followed was long and he explained at great lengths how he felt about you.

You confirmed some of the things he suspected, embarrassed by how easily he read you. At the end of it all you were both a bit teary eyed.

"So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I love you." You did cry after hearing that, so happy and relieved he felt the same way. You kissed him, and he responded in kind, with only the ducks as witnesses this time. They didn't make a peep about the kiss....but they did quack.

Thomas Hewitt:

Tommy knew something was different the first time he met you. You were just a new hire at the meat plant but he couldn't take his eyes off you. The poor thing didn't know what to do. So he just watched. Intrigued by the feelings he felt when he did.

"Good morning Thomas." You'd nod as you passed him to get to your work station. He'd grunt in reply and nod. Happy to see you.

"Hey Tom, lunch time! Thank God for lunch breaks am I right?" Your hand was firm as you passed him, clapping his shoulder. He liked when you touched him, no one ever touched him unless he was also being yelled at. But your touch was different and it was good.

"See ya tomorrow Tommy." You groaned tiredly after a long shift, promising to see him tomorrow. He hoped to see you everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a system, a pattern, it was something Tommy relied on, like a clock, you were on time and followed the routine.

Except this morning, you weren't here. The supervisor was passing by to inspect the work station.

"Where the hell is that freaky bastard at?" He asked pointing to your station. Tommy shrugged, he didn't know, probably the bathroom. "Yeah well you might want to keep your distance, I heard from some the other guys that he's one of them men lovers. If it were up to me he'dhave never come here, but the boss says we're 'short staffed'." The snicker that bubbled up from him was disgusting and he mouthed off a few insults and slurs before walking off to finished his rounds.

Tommy was angry, more than usual at least. He wanted to take that supervisor's head and crush it under his mallet. Instead he stripped his apron off and went to the bathroom. Still a tiny part of him was happy, glad to know he wasn't alone.

The bathroom was never locked, it couldn't be, the lock was broken and building management was too cheap to replace it. So Tommy pushed through the door and listened. A soft rhythmic sound greeted him. Soft uneven breathing, muffled by the walls of the stall. He knew that sound, it was all too personal to him.

He stepped in front of the stall and their sounds turned panicked like they knew they'd been caught.

He knocked on the wood so gently and as it swung open he confirmed his suspensions. Your eyes were red and swollen, a large bruise on your cheek. Tommy saw red as he looked over your generally disheveled appearance.

You were trying to hide the fact that you'd been crying.

"Hey Tommy, what's happening brother? The uh... supervisor send you in here to find me or something?" When you tried to push past him to get to the sinks Thomas stopped you with one big arm.

"Uh you good?" Your voiced trembled and it torn Tommy apart to hear the man he loved so distressed. His big arms pulled you in, holding your smaller body against his massive one. He just didn't care anymore, he didn't care if you knew, or if the whole world knew. People already called him a freak for the way he looked. They were wrong, Thomas wasn't a freak, not for the way he looked or for the way he felt. Neither were you for that matter. When you hugged him back his heart soared. "Thank you." You cried softly, face buried in his chest.

The gentle giant wiped a tear away, carefully as not to agitated the bruise. He grunted and ran his thumb around the edge of the darkening spot.

"Don't worry about that, some of the guys found out about my...well I'm sure you know or have at least heard." Thomas nodded, still holding you. "We should probably get back to our stations."

Tommy was hesitant but he let you go to wash your face and fix your appearance. Things were going to be hard for the both of you. But hard was nothing new to him he was used to fighting for equal footing with others, fighting to get what he wanted always fighting. But this time it really was something worth fighting for. This time it was you.

#dbd x reader #slasher x reader #male reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x male reader #danny johnson x male reader #leatherface x reader #thomas brown hewitt x reader #leatherface x male reader #thomas hewitt x male reader

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riversofmars · 3 years

Note

Do you remember the funny plot with Twelve taking Clara away and Danny finding things suspicious on her return? I'd love if you could use this plot idea with River taking the Doctor away in the middle of her trips with the fam and then the fam getting suspicious on her return.

This was fun! Thank you for the prompt! Something light and easy in between writing my Whumptober pieces, just what I needed! Hope you like it!! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 1500

Read below or on AO3

Interlude

“Doctor?“ Yaz looked around the jungle. She scanned their surroundings, utterly confused. Where had the Doctor got to? She was meant to be leading the way but Yaz had lost sight of her in the thicket.

“Where’s she gone?“ Ryan frowned, confused as well, and Graham added:

“I swear she was here a minute ago.“ They halted their progress and looked around, searching for their Time Lord friend. It wasn’t like her to walk too far ahead, particularly not when they were on an alien world that none of them had visited before. The Doctor had been very excited to take them, promising them the most beautiful flora and fauna. And indeed, the jungle was a marvel, with exotic flowers and huge insects beyond belief. They were, however, also keenly aware of the Doctor’s initial warning: a lot of the most beautiful things could end up being poisonous or dangerous. Therefore, having their experienced tour guide at hand was rather important. It made the Doctor’s sudden disappearance all the more worrying.

“Doctor?!“ Yaz called out loudly, and Ryan and Graham joined in. There was no answer.

“Did you hear that?“ Ryan asked suddenly, when there was a noise up ahead. A sort of shuffling sound, and huffs and groans. The Fam exchanged confused looks.

“Doctor?“ Graham called out again, and suddenly someone or something started ruffling the trees up ahead, so much so that some of them started bending and came down in front of their eyes.

“Oh no…“ Yaz breathed when the noise came closer quickly, almost like rolling thunder, and suddenly, a rhinoceros three times the size of its relatives from Earth charged out of the thicket and straight towards them.

“Quick, back to the TARDIS,“ Ryan yelled, and they started running, back the way they came.

Suddenly, Graham slammed into the Doctor.

“What are you guys running from?“ The Time Lord grinned, seemingly completely unfazed.

“Where have you been?“ Yaz exclaimed, shocked, and she looked back around to find the wild animal gaining on them.

“Right here,“ the Doctor answered cheerfully.

“If you had been, you would have noticed a giant rhino that’s charging after us,“ Yaz yelled, urging them all onward.

“Oh…“ The Doctor’s face fell as she spotted the rhinoceros as well and quickly turned on her heels. “To the TARDIS!!“

The Fam sprinted through the jungle. Luckily, the TARDIS was close by. They hadn’t exactly gotten far with their excursion before the Doctor had disappeared.

“Inside!“ The Doctor yelled as they reached the blue box, and they piled in, quickly slamming the door behind them. The Doctor hurried to the console and launched them into the time vortex. Despite the TARDIS being one of the safest places in the universe, waiting to see what would happen if a giant rhino charged into the door somehow didn’t sound like a good idea.

“That was close…“ Graham gave a sigh of relief as they all dropped onto the stairs, trying to catch their breaths.

“Why were you making such a racket, no wonder it came charging for us,“ the Doctor asked, breathing heavily as well.

“You disappeared,“ Yaz shot back accusingly.

“No I didn’t…“ The Doctor retorted quickly but received incredulous looks from her friends.

“Yes you did, one moment you were there, then you were gone…“ Ryan explained and Graham carried on:

“And then you were back again, what’s that about?“

“Nothing, I think you’re imagining…“ The Doctor tried to wave it off and returned her attention to the console.

“Where is your coat gone?“ Yaz asked when she noticed something was different about the Doctor. “Did you lose it during the chase?“ She frowned.

“What?“ The Doctor didn’t seem to know what to say.

“You were wearing your coat earlier, now you’re not!“ Yaz insisted and Graham and Ryan nodded. It was very rare for the Doctor to take her coat off at all so it was quite noticeable now, that they weren’t running for their lives anymore.

“Oh…“ The Doctor looked down at herself as if she had only just noticed she didn't have it on.

“And what has happened to your hair?“ Yaz carried on as she realised how much of a mess the Doctor’s hair was.

“And your neck, oh my God, Doctor, were you attacked?“ Ryan asked as he spotted red marks on her throat. He got to his feet, as did the others, suddenly very concerned.

“No, no, stop fussing, it’s all good, I…“ The Doctor tried to brush it off but the Fam cornered her.

“Hang on… is that a love bite?“ Yaz exclaimed, sounding scandalised upon closer observation as the Doctor tried her best to cover her neck. Only without her coat, she had no collar to put up. “Where did you disappear off to?“ She demanded to know again.

“And how?“ Ryan added. “It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, what…“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,“ the Doctor huffed, trying to wiggle away from them. “Anyway, we best be off, places to go, things to do, we can’t very well leave the TARDIS with that massive rhino out there, so we should…“ She ducked under Ryan’s arm, making for the other side of the console. “Oh no… my sonic…“ She suddenly realised she was missing something very important as she stuck her hands into her trouser pockets.

“Did you lose it in the chase?“ Graham suggested.

“Or is it in your coat pocket?“ Yaz quipped as they all got rather amused with the Doctor’s embarrassed behaviour.

“Ah no, I…“ The Doctor stammered, turning her pockets inside out.

Suddenly there was an electric discharge fizzing in the air, and a woman appeared in the middle of the control room. She had an impressive head of world curls and was dressed in nothing but a silky dressing gown. She was also carrying the Doctor's coat and sonic screwdriver.

“Sorry love, you forgot this!“ The mystery woman announced with a winning smile that she flashed at the Doctor and gave a little wave towards the Fam.

“What the-!“ Ryan yelped, startled by the sudden arrival and lack of clothes.

“Who are you, how did you get in here?!“ Yaz exclaimed, shocked as well.

“Ah…“ The woman looked down at herself, realising what the main problem was, judging by the blushing faces all round.

“River!“ The Doctor seemed rather mortified herself.

“I thought you were by yourself!“ River countered with a shrug.

“Clearly not!“ The Doctor hissed but hurried towards her regardless, in pursuit of her missing items.

“Well, you left your coat and your sonic!“ River sighed, handing them over.

“I thought you said you didn’t go anywhere!“ Yaz piped up accusingly, and the Doctor gave a pitiful sigh.

“Must dash, till next time, Sweetie!“ River beamed and cheerfully kissed the Doctor’s cheek. Then, as quickly as she had come, she disappeared again with the help of the vortex manipulator on her wrist.

“Well, well, well…“ Graham spoke first, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tried to stay serious but his grin betrayed him.

“And who, pray tell, was that?“ Yaz asked, mirroring Graham, as did Ryan.

“That, uh…“ The Doctor blushed scarlet. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter…“ She quickly pulled her coat on and pushed her sonic into her pocket.

“Has she got a vortex manipulator like Jack!“ Ryan carried on and Yaz jumped in as well:

“Is Jack a Time Lord and you never said and that’s him but a different regeneration?“

“What?! NO!“ The Doctor exclaimed, mortified at the very thought. “That’s River! Professor River Song! Jack?! Honestly?!“ She shook her head vehemently.

“So you like… time travelled away while we were following you through an alien jungle?“ Yaz asked, raising her eyebrows accusingly.

“She may have… popped in… and taken me away for a bit…“ The Doctor admitted in a small voice as she fiddled with the console.

“For what? A few minutes? Half an hour?“ Yaz carried on.

“Well, more like… a few hours… a day… time travel, you know, you never notice how time flies when you’re having fun…“ The Doctor gave a dismissive wave of her hand, trying to brush it off like it was nothing.

“You stopped off for a day’s worth of shagging in the middle of showing us a brand new planet?!“ Graham exclaimed.

“You try saying no when your wife turns up out of the blue and whisks you away!“ The Doctor shot back, trying to smooth the back of her hair.

“YOUR WIFE?!“ The Fam yelled in unison.

#Doctor who #prompt #fanfiction #space wives #river song #thirteenth doctor #the fam #river x thirteen #yowzah #banter #fluff #femslash #dw fanfiction

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phantoms-lair · 3 years

Text

Hero's Spirit Snippet

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

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

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

"Sorry," Izuku said weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who?" Iida finally asked.

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

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

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

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

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

The other two just stared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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etherealdizzle · 3 years

Text

DBD Ji-Woon x Danny - Fame

I have a request, may you do a Trickster x Ghostface? I'd like to see how you'd write those two :3

Before the Entity brought Ji-Woon to this world, he was a star. His face was all over posters, autographs, and merchandise. Ji-Woon loved his fame. He loved the attention. He loved the look of admiration in people’s eyes. To see their fascinated gaze. It wasn’t the same looks he got here.

Here, the faces were filled with horror. Dread. Pain. They no longer looked at him like he was a god. They looked at him like he was a monster. Deep down, he knew that was what he was. He was a monster. He liked the fear he got from people. He liked knowing that they were afraid. That they screamed his name in terror.

But he missed being the Trickster. He missed dancing around on stage. He missed knowing there were hundreds of people with their eyes only on him. Mesmerized. It wasn’t quite the same thing as being here. They all looked. But not admired.

That was the reason Ji-Woon was so upset today. He’d barely laughed at all during the trial - something that was very unusual for him - and just moped around. While away from the trial, the killers were allowed to mold reality. Ji-Woon took this opportunity to create a stage. It was the same stage he used for most shows, right in the middle of Seoul. The lights were bright, with colors that popped and brought out Ji-Woon’s outfit. The stage was where he was happiest, but he still felt sad.

Danny had been looking for him for what felt like forever. Usually Ji-Woon was right there when Danny finished his trials. But he wasn’t there and Danny knew something wasn’t right. He wanted to figure out what was wrong.

He found him eventually. On accident, of course. One second he was in a forest, then the next he was on a stage. It was amazing! The music, the lights, everything! He looked around until he found Ji-Woon, sitting on the edge of the stage. “Ji-Woon!” Danny called out excitedly. Danny was clingy, often too clingy, but Ji-Woon never disapproved of his affection. But today he didn’t even look up. Just looked into the seats, where not a single soul was sitting.

Danny understood what was happening. He made his way over to his lover and sat next to him. He looked to the non-existent crowd. “I bet this place used to be super crowded,” Danny said, taking off his mask. It wasn’t hard to breathe in, but it always felt like a relief to take it off. He fixed his hair, smoothing it out with his hand.

After a moment of silence, Ji-Woon spoke. “It was. It used to be packed. Filled with so many fans, fans from around the world,” He explained. A smile poked at his lips, but was gone by the time he finished his sentence.

“Is that what you’re pouting about?” Danny asked, looking over to Ji-Woon.

“I’m not pouting.”

“Yeah you are.”

Ji-Woon sighed. “Okay, whatever, I’m pouting.” He rolled his eyes, standing up. His eyes stayed glued to the seats. “You know what it’s like, Danny. To want people to admire you.”

“Murder and a music idol… Admiration, sure, but not in the same way, though,” Danny joked, standing alongside Ji-Woon.

Ji-Woon tore his gaze from the seats and finally looked at his boyfriend. “I miss it a lot. I miss…” He fell silent, eyes landing on his feet. He didn’t know how to say it. “I miss all those people. I miss how they looked at me.”

“Ohhh.. You’re an attention whore, huh?” Danny teased.

“Shut up.”

Danny raised his hands defensively. “Am I wrong?”

Finally, a smile fell upon Ji-Woon’s lips. “No, but you could’ve said it more… delicately.”

Danny put a hand on Tricker’s face, rubbing it softly. “You have my attention. That’s worth a least a thousand fans.”

Trickster grinned. “I think it’s worth about a quarter of a person.”

“Wow. That hurts.”

Ji-Woon leaned down and kissed Danny, them both laughing into the kiss. “You’re an idiot,” Ji-Woon laughed, walking to the middle of the stage. Danny stayed where he was, and watched as Ji-Woon began to dance.

“Hey, you’re actually kind of good!” Danny said. He had to admit, Ji-Woon was a great dancer. He was an amazing singer, too. He sang a lot, whether in trials, just walking around, or helping Danny get to sleep. Ghostface reminded Ji-Woon of a child often. He even requested a bedtime story once, but Ji-Woon shut him down.

Trickster finished with a final move, then bowed. “What do you mean ‘kind of’?” He asked, finally acknowledging what Ghostface said.

“Do you know what the phrase ‘kind of’ means?”

Ji-Woon sighed. “You’re so annoying.”

“But you love it, right?” Danny flashed a cheeky smile at him and winked.

“Kind of.” Ji-Woon closed his eyes, and for a moment, he could imagine himself back before the Entity. Before the trials. Before his final performance. Pure bliss. He’d taken it for granted and now it was the one thing he craved.

Danny thought for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure how to cheer Ji-Woon up. So he thought until he finally figured it out. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” He ran up to Ji-Woon, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him back and forth. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it! Come with me!” Danny grabbed his hand and led him backstage. He sat him down in a makeup chair. “You know how to do this, right?” Ji-Woon nodded, a little confused. “Great! You sit there and don’t move ‘till I say, got it?”

“Danny, what are you doing?” Ji-Woon tried to stand, but Danny pushed him back down into the seat.

“Stay!” Danny pointed at him, slowly stepping away. “Good boy!” He joked, turning and running away from the room, leaving Ji-Woon by himself. And confused.

Finally, after what felt like forever, his lover returned. Danny had a big grin on his face. “Ready, Mr. Hak?” He asked, grabbing Ji-Woon’s arm and looping theirs together.

“Ready for what?” Ji-Woon questioned nervously. He trusted Danny, but that didn’t mean that Danny still didn’t do dumb shit. Danny brought him near the stage.

“Don’t forget this,” He said, placing a headset on Ji-Woon. “You’ll do great.” Danny kissed Ji-Woon on his cheek, then gestured to the stage.

Ji-Woon was even more confused. “...What?”

“Just get out there!” Danny urged, shoving Ji-Woon lightly.

Ji-Woon just shook his head, but listened to Danny. He figured it was just some prank, but then he heard it. The cheers.

The seats were filled with audience members. Nearly everyone was wearing his merch, yelling out his name. Posters with his name on it, people with pens and papers, begging for autographs.

“Ji-Woon!”

“We love you!”

“Trickster, over here!”

“I love you so much!”

“Sign my autograph!”

“Ji-Woon!!!”

Ji-Woon stopped dead in his tracks, excitement and happiness overloading his system. He couldn’t believe it. Hundreds of people, looking at him. With love. With happiness. With admiration. He waved to them, a grin plastered on his face.

The music started. Ji-Woon remembered the words, singing them hundreds of times before. The dance was like muscle memory, the knife tricks he learned as a kid becoming an important piece of his choreography. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Danny might be a little piece of shit, but Ji-Woon wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved him. He loved Danny Johnson with all of his heart. He loved him even more than this feeling. He might’ve not said it a whole lot, but Danny knew. And Danny loved him, too.

#dbd #dbd ji-woon hak #dbd ji-woon #dbd danny #danny johnson #ghostface #dbd ghostface #danny x ji-woon #ji-woon x danny #dbd the trickster #trickster #dead by daylight #mlm

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Smalltown Bringdown 1

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live in a smalltown run by a biker club. When your boss gets into debt, you find yourself drawn into the crossfire.

Note: Yesterday I tried writing Sugar, Sugar. That didn’t work out. I had a migraine on Monday that I’m still tiptoeing around. I wrote this a week ago but wanna continue it. Well, if there’s any interest in my doing so. So to those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

Birch was a small town, named for the line of pale tree at its heart. The streets were built around it. It had stood for centuries like a guardian over residents. Like a harbinger of their eventual fates. White as a ghost, looming like the reaper.

And death lived in Birch. It rode the streets on iron steeds. The apocalyptic horseman roaring down the roads in leather. Oblivion was the bar on the main road.; The Asp was a remnant of the town’s birth. An inn for those who claimed to discover this “new world”. Cleopatra reclined along the sign’s moniker, a snake around her arm, poised to sink its long fangs in her throat.

Further down was the Chipped Saucer. The British were the first Europeans to settle here and when they supped with the Natives, they found their dishware cracked from their long journey. The tale outlived those early townsfolk painted across the window of sleepy old diner. The history of the forgotten town was long remembered because there, time didn’t seem to move very fast.

The town was more purgatory than hell. Few ever escaped it. You were among the trapped. A waitress in an aged yellow uniform and frilly white apron at the old diner. Sundays were busiest. The older folk were hungry after the weekly service and the younger residents were trying to caffeinate their hangovers.

You did your round of refills and returned the carafe to the machine. You took your time replacing the filter and adding the grounds. The rusted jingle of the bell above the door barely registered in your head. But the decisive stomp of boots did. Not just one set, not two, but more than you could count. You looked up as you closed the lid on the machine.

The diners sat frozen as if in a tableau. Not a single breath was drawn as you watched the leather-coated men walk between the tables. You didn’t need to see the patches on their backs to know who they were. Everyone knew who they were because they owned everything and everyone. The police, the town council, the mayor, and any who called Birch home.

Every small town has its dark secrets but the club had never really been a secret. The Howling Commandos had reigned since the boys returned from the war in 1945. Since, their mantle had been taken up by sons, nephews, cousins. Those glory days loomed as if it were only yesterday that the newspapers declared victory in Europe! Victor in Japan! Korea! Vietnam! Iraq!

You skirted behind the counter as Lillian, the oldest of the waitresses, stood by the kitchen window. Artie, the cook, neared the other side and gave a grunt at the bikers kicking around the diner.

“From what I heard,” He said loud enough for them to hear. “They serve hash down at The Asp, don’t they?”

“Artie,” Lillian hissed under her breath as she touched her immense bosom.

The diners, the servers, the bus boys, all exhaled in communal dismay. Mr. Elrich watched as Danny, the boy he’d once taught, took his mug of coffee and emptied it in a single gulp.

“Where’s Jimmy?” A golden-haired man stepped forward.

You knew him. Knew of him. He had been a few years ahead of you in school. He was held back and sat beside you in math and copied off your tests. Steve Rogers was too much trouble for a browner like you.

“Jimmy’s out,” Artie waved his spatula. “Can’t you see these people are tryna enjoy their breakfast?”

“Jimmy’s out,” Steve repeated slowly as he neared the counter. “Well, that’s a first. I always thought he slept off his Saturday nights in his office. Least I always found him half-asleep at his desk. Definitely wasn’t working.”

“You come back later when he’s in,” Artie shook his head. “Goddamn, boy, my eggs are burning.”

“Artie,” Lillian and several other waitresses wailed at him.

“How long you worked here, Art?” Steve was close. You could smell the leather and smoke as he passed you. His hand was on the door as he glared at Art through the window.

“Be thirty years, soon enough,” Artie answered defiantly. “Since you were a kid tossing your pancakes at the wall, you brat.”

Steve chuckled and pushed through the door. Several women screamed and men shushed them at the flurry that followed. The crash of pans as Steve grabbed the old man by his collar and pushed him against the window. You stepped through the door before it swung shut.

“Don’t.” You pleaded. “Don’t hurt him. Jimmy’s not here. None of us have seen him since yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve shrugged you away. “Loyalty is admirable. The man pays your check, so I understand your insistence on protecting him. I only wish he was as diligent in paying his dues.”

“St-stop,” You squealed as he his hand wrapped around Artie’s thick throat. “Goddamnit, you know Artie. You know he means no harm.”

“I know he’s always had a mean mouth,” Steve snarled. “Where’s that spatula now, hmm? You gonna give me a swat, Art?”

You looked around. The waitresses gaped through the window as the men loomed around the tables. Amused, they crossed their arms and watched the helpless old cook struggle. On the long steel table behind Steve was a large knife. Your heart pounded as you inched around him.

“Steve, come on, you can wait around for Jimmy,” You offered. “I’m sure he’ll be in. Hell, you’ll have more luck heading down to his. I’m sure he’s sleeping it off there.”

“I came here to get the money and I’m not leaving without it.” Steve snarled.

You bent slowly and took the knife, careful not to drag the blade on the floor. You stood and came around Steve. He glanced over as you pointed it at his neck. He chuckled as his eyes flashed.

“You don’t wanna do that, girl,” He warned.

“I don’t so long as you let him go,” You declared. “You go sit down, we’ll get you coffee, Art will cook you some bacon, and we’ll wait for Jimmy.”

“Don’t think I will.” Steve squeezed tighter as Artie turned red.

“Oh yeah?” You touched his neck with the blade’s edge. “You want Jimmy, no one’s keeping you from him but we can’t help you if you throttle poor Artie.”

A chuckle came from behind you. Deep and venomous. You looked slowly over your shoulder as the back door whisked shut. The knife slipped from your hand as you were faced with the barrel of a gun. The metal clattered to the tile as you dropped your arms and stared at the pistol’s mouth.

“You grew some balls since grade school,” Bucky remarked.

Him and Steve had always been inseparable. You should’ve known he wasn’t far. And as the main shareholder in the Asp and therefore the club, he was owed more than any. It would be a mark on the crest not to collect the debt himself.

“Wish I could say the same of you,” You retorted. “So, you gonna shoot me?”

He laughed again and Steve did too. “Let the man go,” Bucky said. “There’s a safe in the office. If there’s not enough in there, we’ll empty the till.”

He lowered the gun. Slowly as if taunting you. You turned to check on Artie as he leaned heavily on the wall. Steve headed for the door to the back hall where Jimmy’s office was.

“You okay?” You helped Artie stand straight. “You need some water. You should sit down. I’ll get Billy to finish service.”

“You are going to go out there,” Bucky said as he holstered his gun. “With the rest of the girls and stay away from sharp objects.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the door. “Artie, you get back to your tickets. These people look hungry.”

He shoved you through to the dining room and you stumbled into the counter. Artie coughed and wiped his sweaty hands on his apron. He waved at Billy, his sous chef, and ambled back to the grill.

It was a few minutes of tense silence filled only with the sound of pots, pans, and plates. As Artie called out an order and Lillian loaded her tray, Steve emerged from the back. Donny stood at the front door and kept any from leaving. Not than anyone had the strength or courage to even stand up.

“I don’t think we’re getting that thing open.” Steve said.

“Hey!” Donny shouted and the door chimed as he pulled it open.

Everyone watched as he raced out and chased Jimmy past the window. The small, greasy-haired man put up little fight against the burly biker and was dragged inside.

“There you are, Jim,” Bucky swung the door open and brushed past you. “We were starting to get impatient.”

“Bucky,” Jimmy’s voice cracked. “What are you--”

“Jim, let’s not play this game,” Bucky snapped. “I think you know I haven’t brought everyone here for breakfast so why don’t you help us crack the code and we’ll be on our way.”

“Crack the code?” Jimmy whimpered.

“We found the safe,” Bucky crossed his arms. “So, you open it up and we’re on our way. I only came for what’s mine. For what you owe me.”

“I-I-I--” Jimmy stuttered.

“Grab him,” Bucky ordered and Steve was quick to grab the thin man by his scruff and drag him across the diner.

Bucky led the way into the kitchen and the weak struggle could be heard as they disappeared through the back door. Artie called another order and Kimmie balanced it on her tray. When the three men returned, Jimmy had a bloody lip and Steve carried a black bag of what could only be the safe’s contents.

“Well, you see, we still got a problem here, Jimmy.” Bucky hauled him over to the window by his arm. “That’s not even close to what you owe and you’ve got late fees on top of it. Dodging me all week like this.”

Jimmy looked ready to cry as Bucky took his hand and slammed hit flat on the window’s ledge. He held his wrist down as he reached to his waist. “Check the register.” Bucky ordered.

Steve went to the till and hit every button until it opened. He emptied the drawer and shook his head. “Not even a hundred.” He scoffed.

“Pity,” Bucky pulled a knife from his belt. “Well then, Jim, there’s only one thing for you to do; pick a finger.”

“Wha--” Jimmy yelped. “What do you--”

“You pick a finger or I will find something worse to cut off.” Bucky lowered the blade and Jimmy flinched away.

“Please,” Jimmy begged. “I’ll get the money. End of the week, I promise.”

“You said that last week,” Bucky countered. “And I can’t gamble my integrity as lightly as you do, Jim. So hurry up or I’ll make you pick two.”

“Uh…” Jimmy quaked and went pale. ‘Th-the pinkie.”

Bucky was quick. The knife cut easily through flesh and bone and blood pooled beneath Jimmy’s hand in second. You covered your mouth as your stomach flipped and several people wretched, some followed by sloppy splats onto the floor.

Bucky held up the finger and admired it before he tucked it into his pocket and patted Jimmy on the back. “One week for the rest of it, Jim.” He strode through the door and stopped just beside the counter. He turned to you and smirked as he took the cloth from your apron pocket. “Get some pressure on that before he passes out, will ya?”

He handed you the cloth and winked. He nodded to his men and they filed out the door without another word. You blinked and shook yourself from your shock. You pushed through the kitchen door and grabbed Jimmy’s hand as he held his wrist. You pushed the rag to his severed pinkie and he hissed.

“Someone call an ambulance,” Your voice seemed to break the pall that had fallen over the diner. “Please!”

💀

By Tuesday, it was as if nothing had ever happened at the Chipped Saucer. The usual customers stopped by for their breakfast or lunch and Artie was back to his grumpy ways. The only thing that remained was the blood stain on the window ledge. And the bandage on Jimmy’s hand.

When you were done your shift, you hung your apron on its hook in the back and clipped your name tag on it. You covered up your hideous yellow dress with your black cardigan and grabbed your purse before you headed out. Your mother texted you to grab some cheese on your way home and a sixer of Blue for good measure.

You stopped by the grocer first and added a box of oreos to your bill. The liquor store was just next door and the after work crowd strolled its aisles. You traipsed to the back, the paper bag balanced against your hip as you browsed the cans and bottles. You grabbed some Blue and turned to head to the check out. You were the only person left in the aisle, well aside from one. Likely the reason for the sudden desolation.

Bucky Barnes stood before you in his leather jacket. You hadn’t noticed him there at the end of the shelf, watching you, arms crossed. You sighed and walked towards him, deliberately sidestepping him. You stopped short as he blocked you with his arm.

“Not even a hello?” He mused.

You scoffed and shook your head and stepped to the other side. He blocked you just as quickly. You tilted your head wryly and he smiled.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.” He said evenly.

“Mmhmm,” You rolled your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m not up for it.”

You tried to shake him again and he caught you around your waist. “Honey, honey, honey.”

You wriggled away from him and almost dropped your armful.

“You had a gun in my face two days ago. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You had a knife to my man’s throat.” He said. “Think we’re even.”

“Just say whatever it is you want so that I can go home.” You grumbled.

“How you like working over there at the Saucer?”

“What?” You shook your head.

“Seems slow. Tips any good?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You challenged.

“Well, we got an opening at The Asp and you’ve got experience serving.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d put that out there. Not many ways to move up in this town.”

“I don’t wanna work at a dive.” You said through your teeth. “You done?”

“Sure.” He backed up and turned so he was almost against the shelf. He waved you past him. “Go home. Relax.” You began to step by him and he spoke again. “Say hi to your ma.”

You stopped but didn’t look back at him. You swallowed and carried your sixer to the counter. You set it down and dug for your wallet with one hand.

“It’s been covered.” Larry said as he scratched his thick mustache and glanced at Bucky. The biker pretended to peruse the white wines.

“No, it hasn’t.” You slammed a bill on the cans. “You give him his money back. Or keep it. I couldn’t care less.”

You waited for your change and grabbed the beer. You kept your head high as you swept out onto the street and past the motorcycle parked across two spots. You’d have to barter a can off your mom when you got in.

💀

On Friday, Jimmy called you to his office. He never called anyone to his office. Well except Kimmie but that’s because everyone knew what was going on between them. So you punched out and headed to the small back room with the dented metal desk from the 60s and the cinder block wall poorly disguised with flowery wallpaper. You knocked then entered when he replied.

You sat in the small chair with the orange cushion. The same one you’d sat your interview in. Jimmy spun his pen in his hand. He was jumpy. More than usual. The small safe hidden beside his filing cabinet was scratched but still in tact. He dropped the pen and twined his fingers together.

“So, uh, yeah,” He blinked and sniffed. “Well, this isn’t… easy. Not quite sure how to say it really.”

You were quiet. Confused. You scrunched your lips and listened. You had a bad feeling. Unusual things didn’t happen for no reason. Not in a small town.

“Heh, well, I’m sure you know I’ve come into some financial hardship and, well, it looks like...uh,” He sat back and smoothed his greasy, thinnng hair. “I’m gonna have to let you… go.”

“Let me go?” You repeated. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I need the, uh, cash,” He turned back and forth in his chair. He was nervous.

“Cash. Sure. You couldn’t sell that heap of junk parked outside?” You sneered. “I have no doubt this has something to do with those goons but I don’t think you’re being honest about the why.”

“Look, I’m real sorry. You’ll get severance.” He sputtered.

“You can’t afford to keep me on but you can afford the pay out?” You scoffed and stood. “Let me ask you, have you received any other visits from your friends at The Asp?”

He shook his head frantically.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around Larry’s to grab a mickey at all? Or passing by? Maybe Tuesday night?”

“It’s a small town. I got nowhere to hide.” He cowered.

“Suppose there’s nothing else to say. Nothing I can say.” You threw up those hands. “You tell Bucky you were a good boy, okay?”

“I…”

“I get it. You owe them.” You started to turn away. “When should I expect my cheque.”

“Usual,” He answered glumly. “I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You stopped by the door. “You remember how sorry you are the next time you pick up a cue, eh.”

💀

Another trip to the liquor store, this one unimpeded. A bottle of wine from some unheard of vineyard on some distant island. You carried it home in the bag, its shape visible beneath the wrinkled paper. You went in the back way, as you always did. Your mother’s dog, Ash, wiggled his bum as you stopped to pet him. You let him inside as you entered the kitchen.

Your mother was at the counter, working on dinner. You set the bottle on the table heavily and sat. You let your purse fall to the floor and sighed.

“Hey, hon,” She said. “How was your day?”

You grumbled and unsheathed the bottle. You crumpled the bag and tossed it in the middle of the table. You unscrewed the lid and drank from the long neck. Your mom stopped her chopping and turned with a hand on her hip.

“Rough one?” She asked.

“I got fired.” You said numbly.

“Fired? For what?”

You shrugged and took another drink. She huffed and set aside her knife. You listened as she opened and closed a cupboard and crossed to you. She set down a glass.

“Pace yourself.” She reproached.

You frowned and filled the glass to the rim. She tutted and went back to the counter.

“It’s because of them.” You said at last.

She looked at you but kept quiet. She knew who you meant.

“Some kind of game.” You muttered.

“Oh, Lillian told me about your heroics.” Your mother sighed. “I knew you weren’t telling me something.”

“Christ, ma, they were gonna give Artie a heart attack,” You exclaimed. “What was I supposed to do? He’s a defenseless old man.”

“And? The Commandos are thugs. They have no qualms against old men and young women.” She dumped her cutting board in the pot and covered it. “Losing your job is nothing. You could’ve lost a lot more messing around. You know how things work.”

“Not as well as you, yeah?” You drank deeply. “Dad learned it the hard way, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” She assured you and took a glass of her own from the cupboard. She sat with you at the table. “You’ll find something else. Something better than the diner. That little tourism place, they need a new receptionist.”

“Great, I’ll get my resume printed tomorrow.” You poured her a more modest glass. “It’s a show. Don’t worry, ma. They just want to wave their-- well, you know.”

“You just stay clear of them. Let them find bigger fish to fry,” She advised.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes #biker au #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky barnes x reader #ft steve rogers #au #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america

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bitch-i-migth-be · 4 years

Text

Crash Course | Chapter 04: A Busy Queen Bee

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman,

Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton,

Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Ghost Writer, Clockwork, Observants, Pariah Dark mentions, Random ghosties mentions *boo*

Words: 2′549

Tags: BAMF Danny, BAMF Jazz, Sibling bonding, Shenanigans, Swearing

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

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

A/N: The academy location is what the Gotham Academy Comic brought up to the table on it’s pages. Gotham Academy IS across the road on that comic.

Complete madmen, I’m telling you. That’s child endangerment right there and like HELL I’m passing up this opportunity HAHAHAHA.

This is going to be a disaster.

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

-.-.-.-

Danny was quickly writing down on his journal every single little thing that could be helpful to deal more efficiently with his workload, had been rather busy lately, and normally he would just wing it and be done with it, but this time there were some things he had to take into consideration before he started to poke bears with sticks.

One of the most important?

When you are dealing with ghosts, you have to take into account that they have a thing called obsession.

It’s their drive. The reason behind their actions and continual existence upon this world, and as such, a good way to guess what makes them tick.

Danny liked to pretend he was not a slave of a fucking obsession, but considering he was still fighting the ghosts, with no payment to speak of, and after the massive amount of times someone had used his face to scrub the streets-

The fake it ‘till you make it ideology only carried you so far in life.

His friends called it a hero-type obsession.

Danny didn’t think that fit quite right.

When he couldn’t turn a blind eye on one of his, particularly reckless, actions he preferred to describe it as a protection streak.

Obsessions were ‘born’ the moment of one’s death, after all.

And there had been nothing heroic in the way he had died.

He had been scared shitless.

The moment it had clicked in his head that he would most definitely die right there, all the reasons why he didn’t want to die yet flashed by his mind, all those places left to visit, his dreams of going to space, going out with his friends, his family- My god, Jazz …

He would leave his sister behind.

He was leaving her alone in this godforsaken house with their parents.

Even after all the years the Fenton siblings spent calling living in the Fenton household ‘survival’ they had only been playing around. It was supposed to be just a joke. Something to lighten and make fun of their weird family dynamic.

It wasn’t supposed to escalate like this.

And now- n-now their parents had demonstrated that they were apparently more than capable of killing off — if accidentally — one of their children, what the fuck would prevent them from murdering the other one?

Who was going to protect his sister?

The fear for his well being had rapidly transformed into dread for his sister’s future. A tremendous and sudden rush of protectiveness had inundated his being.

And that was it for him.

The next time he had recovered some semblance of coherence he had awakened as a fully minted halfa and there was no going back.

Some months later, after learning more about his situation and what it meant, he had been capable of identifying what was the drive behind his ghost half. Jazz had been the catalyst, but apparently the sheer feeling of protectiveness had been what his soul had latched onto. So while his sister was a big priority, he recognized that he still felt somewhat inclined to protect in general.

He still refused to call it an obsession, though.

So Protection Urges it was.

Apart from keeping a constant watch on their house —for both their sake’s, truly—, when the ghosts started running wild all over the place his new ghost instincts had come to the conclusion that a safe town meant a safe sister — and a happy sister. Jazz would blow a fuse worrying about getting lynched by the town when they realized the older Fentons were at fault of the destruction of their homes. And he would worry about his sister getting skewered. An intervention was in order —, so, most of the time this protection was reserved for the humans, considering the weak things tended to get trapped in the crossfire between the ghosts and their obsession or even other ghosts.

There were also moments when humans would turn against other humans. But in a place like Amity — where the citizens felt a certain level of kinship against the ghostly invaders and tended to stick together — those tended to be scarce and far between.

The occasions where his protection streak would show up in favor of ghosts weren’t as numerous, but they existed. They tended to be either when the G.I.W. got their imbecility involved, his parents were hell-bent on getting subjects for dissection or when other fucking ghosts insisted on being fucking assholes.

After all the time he spent dealing with ghosts it was undeniable there were good ghosts out there, and no matter the reason, when he helped these ghosts out most of them tended to be openly grateful. Some promised him their allegiance, others gave him their respect, and a good bunch of them would find subtle ways to stay under his protection.

Once the almost disaster that had been Pariah Dark was over, some of the ghosts had started to actively request his protection.

Some of the most aggressive ghosts had started to back down, shit, even Walker was not bitching at him as much as he used to these days. He would think he was going soft, but he still looked at him like something the dog had dragged in — which, ok, that was true sometimes because Wulf, or even Cujo, but there was no need to be rude —, Danny didn’t really mind, Walker wasn’t his favorite person either.

So things were a little better for him when he visited the Ghost Zone, and he could make things somewhat better for the weaker ghosts that relied on him for protection. As far as Danny was concerned he was doing fine in his protection duties. Fast forward a pair of months and the Ghost Writer was kind enough to inform him that while he was doing an excellent job with the fighting aspect, he sucked in all the others.

Apparently, when a ghost asked for the protection of another ghost they were requesting a lot more than just a ‘fight for me’. — And how the fuck was he supposed to even know that? — This, of course, also meant that they were willing to offer a lot more in exchange. But Danny wasn’t as focused on what he could get in return as in the fact that he was apparently lacking on his role as protector.

Not on his goddamn watch.

Damn his fucking urges.

Later on, with more time and experience to sort through this wreck waiting to happen and after he finally got the chance to met more of the sovereigns of the Infinity Realms and personally witness their interactions with their people, he would start to understand what exactly this new role he had stumbled upon meant.

For the moment the only thing he deemed as the first priority was supplying the ghosts under his care with a safe space to exist.

According to the Ghost Writer, giving them a safe space would normally translate into welcoming them into his lair, because the weaker ghosts that normally requested protection didn’t have the proper energy levels to make one of their own.

The problem with that was that he didn’t have a lair.

…Not necessarily.

GW hypothesized that, as he was so attached to his hometown and spend the most part of his time in there, it was likely that his ghost half recognized the entirety of Amity Park as his lair, and as such his instincts hadn’t seen the construction of one for his own use in the Zone as necessary. Or something along those lines.

That had been a bump on the road for his plans.

Nonetheless, a Fenton does not know when to fucking stop, so he kept at it.

When he nagged clockwork about it the older — or younger, whatever he was at the time — ghost had said that winning a fight against a ghost king meant inheriting their lair by right of conquest. So technically speaking, Danny did have a lair now, no matter how creepy the thing was.

That was all good and dandy but didn’t quite resolve the main problem.

Because now the problem was that Pariah’s goddamned keep — now Phantom’s —, was ‘guarding’ one sleeping murderous king, and two fucking powerful artifacts. And opening the doors to what amounted to a small army of random ghosts while those things were there was not a good idea.

But, seeing as Danny was not about to expose ghosts or humans to each other, there was no way he was letting his ‘people’ into Amity, so the castle it was.

Considering the significance the crown, ring, and even fucking Pariah held for the zone, the Observants would have to get involved for decision making, because of course, they had to shove their nonexistent noses on everything.

As anyone would have predicted, it was a goddamn pain to reach some kind of agreement when such uptight guys were involved. The halfa acknowledged that finding a place to these things was important but after two hours of debating back and forth over it, the situation was getting ridiculous.

Danny, being pretty annoyed already, had asked if they could just melt the damn things and be done with it.

The Observants nearly had a coronary.

Clockwork would have succeeded in looking chastising if he hadn’t been so busy trying to hide the smirk blooming in his face from witnessing the eyeballs’ ruffled distress.

They explained to him exactly why doing something like that was completely foolish, Phantom retorted that leaving two ancient artifacts of immeasurable power, and a psychotic slumbering ex-king in a creepy castle guarded by fear factor alone was fucking foolish.

The Observants countered saying that if the new high king would just fucking accept his position and wear them then they wouldn’t have to worry about the artifacts. Phantom disagreed in principle because the new high king would have to be as imbecile as the last one to let himself get possessed by a fucking ring.

The halfa dutifully ignored most of the implications thrown in that particular conversation.

Happiness belongs to the ignorant.

In the end, they had all acquiesced

A good thing, because Danny had been more than prepared to throw the tantrum of the century if any of them tried to get that goddamned cursed ring anywhere near his fingers, and there was no fucking way he was going to parade around wearing a fucking crown on fire — or otherwise—, he had an ice core for ancients’ sakes.

In the middle of the ghost-catfight, Danny had stated that he would only agree to use the damn artifacts as long as they found a way to get rid of the goddamn curse of the ring and make the gaudy crown less of a fire hazard.

The Observant sniffed pompously, saying that the notion of them not knowing how to do such a simple thing was ridiculous, Danny’s eye twitched as he sneered, because ‘Why the fuck haven’t you done it already then?’

The Observants shifted nervously. Danny sneered harder. Clockwork stopped trying to pretend he was not enjoying himself.

One of the Observants finally disclosed that the issue was not the knowledge but the power needed to pull off such a thing. With newer things, transferring powers from a thing to another was relatively easy. With millennia-old artifacts with such amount of power inside, though? Near impossible. Not even taking into account that the artifacts Danny wanted to ‘mess with’ were — however cursed — an ancient heritage of the Infinity Realms.

“Then we ask for help.” Phantom said curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.

This declaration resulted in a row of rapid blinking among the Observants. It was fucking weird to watch.

“Ask who for help, exactly?” Came the uneasy reply.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he drawled, pushing his hand through his already messy white hair and massaging his aching temple while he was at it.

“I think what Daniel is trying to say is,” Intervened ClockWork after letting Phantom loose on the Observants as long as he could get away with. The boy was a real wonder. “If we need power and permission to ‘ mess with the ancient heritage ’ then the better option would be to consult with the Kings and Queens of the Infinity Realms. Wouldn’t you agree?” the ghost of time finished sending a playful little smile to the ruffled Observants.

At the end of the day, all this chit chat resulted in the official formation of the High Council of the Infinity Realms.

For Danny, the best thing about this Council was that most of them, like him, had a bone to pick with the Observants.

Which didn’t mean that they agreed with him on everything he put forward, but it still makes him quite satisfied, all things considered.

Once established the first order of business had been, of course, dealing with the artifacts and Pariah.

Phantom suggested from the get-go stashing pariah into a more discreet, less flashy location than his previous castle, and transferring the powers of the ring and crown into new non-cursed-or-flaming-and-better-named jewelry.

These things had been a trademark of the ruthlessness of Pariah’s reign, after all.

Taking into account that all of the ghosts sovereigns had either been present for Pariah’s carnage or were more than aware of the repercussions it caused, it was not much of a surprise when it was an almost unanimous vote in favor of the notion. It would have to be discussed further to decide on the precise details, but for the most part that was the general sentiment.

The Observants had seethed for a while, but they couldn’t do more than resign themselves after the majority of the votes cast were in favor of a complete change.

They had still insisted on keeping a goddamn crown as mandatory, and he could have kept going with his bitching but Jazz had been trying to teach him how to pick his battles, and this one was not worth more of a sore throat.

All of this hassle because he wanted to give some homeless ghosts safe heaven into his previously non-existent lair.

Once done, with the artifacts and Pariah taken out of the keep, he realized some redecoration was in order before anyone lived in this place. He thought about asking ClockWork but decided to let him deal with the Council Shenanigans and went to bother the Ghost Writer instead.

The dude sure had some strong opinions on color schemes and furniture.

Danny shook himself out of his daydreaming, he had gotten carried away.

He put his pen down, taking advantage of the little break in writing to stretch his cramped limbs and back like a cat before looking over his chicken scrawl spread all over the journal’s pages.

If he dealt his cards well a single chat with the High Council and a visit to the castle would be more than enough to start the preparations.

Danny’s eyes zeroed in the last column of names he had written on the page.

That only left the more- mmh, particular cases.

He let his chin rest on the palm of his hand, releasing a low hum while a little smirk slowly made itself comfy on his features.

Now, for the fun part.

-.-.-.-

NOTES:

You might be wondering, “Did she just made Jazz the root of Danny’s obsession?” And the answer is yes. Yes, I did. -.-.-.-

Frostbite’s name in the Latin American (Or is it from Spain? Don’t know :v )dub is “Congelación” (which means ‘freezing’) and I don’t know how to fucking deal with that. It does not sound anywhere as cool as the original :’v

Maybe it’s because I’m not used to hearing “congelación” applied to something as awesome as a goddamn ghost yeti.

Or maybe not.

Who knows. -.-.-.-

I swear I’m trying to get these two to Gotham, but It feels like I’m dragging Danny there kicking and screaming. Which is- appropriate, I suppose. -.-.-.-

There would be more details of the High Council integrants later (I think?) and the dynamic I’m going to put here, not like you can’t guess some of them already *wink wink nudge nudge*

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maskedemerald · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Company

Hi this was written as part of challenge in a writing group I'm in, just wanted to write some child Danny and how Clockwork handles that. Hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Clockwork gets an unexpected guest while waiting for the Observants to stop blocking their sight. They don't really know how to deal with people never mind scared children.

Clockwork wasn’t used to having company. While from time to time, in fact more often than they would like the Observants would turn up demanding something or other, those arrogant over inflated eyeballs didn’t really count as guests. Aside from that the tower hadn’t played host to anyone but Clockwork for almost an eternity. Especially not the kind of guest they had right now and Clockwork had no idea what they were doing for the first time in just as long. The situation had only begun a couple of mortal hours ago, Clockwork had been glaring frustrated at their viewing screens as they buzzed with static. The Observants were blocking their sight for some probably foolish reason. Clockwork could see nothing but static as they looked through the eras of the timeline. This was one of the worst parts of working for the Observants and there weren’t exactly many good points. For a being like them no matter how frustrating the lost time glaring didn’t really mean much. They would have glared at the screens till their sight was returned if it wasn’t for the small yelp behind them. Clockwork twisted round to find the spark of a closing portal and on the stone floor below it a small child. A child that was getting his breath back. A living child. Clockwork stared. The child sat up on his knees and looked round with confusion on his little face. Something else building in the expression that engulfed everything when blue eyes landed on Clockwork. His breath hitched and he flailed back. The movement sent him tumbling across the floor. Panicked sobs as he tried to push up against the wall. He clung tightly to a small pangolin plush toy. Clockwork frowned at the fact that the child hadn’t just fallen right through the wall. That would have been normal but nothing about this was normal. Clockwork floated closer.

“...Please…” They were sure they heard the child beg. “... don’t… don’t hurt me…”

Afraid, understandable really. They floated over and settled on the floor in front of the boy. They could have just left him be till their sight returned and they could see where he came from but Clockwork felt sorry for him. However Clockwork didn’t know how to deal with children. “If I was going to I already would have.” Clockwork said bluntly.

The child flinched and tried again to scramble away having only just noticed how close Clockwork had gotten. Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say. In the scramble the boy found his feet. Clockwork rose from the ground ready to try again. The boy bolted. Clockwork sighed and floated after him. Last thing they needed was the child becoming lost in the tower and as a result not getting returned to the timeline.

“... leave me… leave me alone!” He half shrieked once he was again backed into a corner. Clockwork winced at the volume he could reach.

“I’d rather not. It would be less than pleasant to lose track of you. I wouldn’t appreciate finding a skeleton in a few centuries.” Clockwork knew the moment the horrified look crossed the child’s face that they had again messed up. They groaned. How did anyone function without knowing the outcome.

“Please don’t kill me!”

“Seriously? What part of that said that I would have anything to do with that. I expressly said I didn’t want that.” Clockwork sighed, how had he gotten that out of it.

“I… I don’t wanna be here!” He sobbed. “I wanna go home.”

Clockwork held their head, if they could have a headache they were sure they would. “Obviously, however there is nothing I can do about that for the moment.”

There was silence and then. “You… you can’t?” He asked through sobs. “I… don’t wanna be stuck here… here is scary.”

There were far scarier places within the Zone, if anything the child had actually gotten lucky to have ended up here. Even if Clockwork didn’t feel so lucky. “There are worse places you could have ended up. You are not stuck. I have no intention of keeping you here. Once I can you are going to be gone.”

The boy looked up. “You… you’ll let me go home.” Clockwork nodded.

The child was like a pendulum, one moment panicked and afraid. Now he was sobbing into Clockwork’s cloak. Clockwork really didn’t understand children. They floated them back to the other room resulting in the boy tightening his grip the moment they were moving. At least that was normal. Human children didn’t exactly fly. Clockwork set the boy on a bench, his sobs had become sniffles. Clockwork watched the child as he calmed. It took a while. They kept looking back to the screens but still saw static.

“How long do those fools even need.” They growled quietly. The boy thankfully didn’t seem to have heard, he seemed too young to really understand the politics of the Zone and Clockwork didn’t fancy explaining it.

“...You… you’re not bad… not like Mommy and Daddy said?” The child said looking up at them, still afraid. It took Clockwork a moment to realise it was actually a question.

“I suppose not.” Clockwork mused though they had no idea what exactly this child even thought they were. Probably a demon or some other such nonsense.

The child sat there restless as a silence fell. Clockwork had no idea how to keep the child occupied or even that they had to. So they were taken off guard as they had returned to glaring at the screens as the child spoke up.

“Why’d you keep watching the fuzz, fuzz means it needs fixin.” He chirped, the tears gone leaving puffy eyes the only sign of them. Clockwork looked down at the child as he poked at the bottoms of the screens. As high as he could reach. Clockwork wasn’t sure what the feeling they were getting from this was but they liked it.

“They are not broken, however I am waiting. Waiting till I can send you home.” They explained, trying to keep it simple.

The boy frowned. “Is the power off? We don’t normally get fuzz then.”

“Power?” Clockwork raised an eyebrow now again confused by the child.

“Yeah, sometimes if the power’s out Tuck’s mommy won’t take us home till it works. You’re waiting for power?”

Clockwork couldn’t help the laugh. “In a way.” There was some logic to that.

They found themself watching more times than they should have watching the boy instead of the screens, not that anything had changed there. He had gone back to the bench to wait and was now sitting with an alarm clock that had floated past. He was fiddling with the old thing that like him had drifted in from the human world. It didn’t work like a lot of the clocks that found their way to the tower. Clockwork fixed them when they had time however they hadn’t gotten round to that one. Once in the tower they came to represent paradoxes so took more work than a normal clock. They couldn’t help but watch the look of concentration on his face. Clockwork glanced once more to the screens, still nothing. This was going to be a while. Watching them only made it more frustrating. They drifted over to the child, who lent against them as he continued to pick at the clock’s workings.

Clockwork’s sight returned as it always did, all at once with a surge. Every event missed in the mortal world. There was really never any reason to watch the screens, just not normally anything else to do. They clutched their head, the closest thing to a headache they ever got was this.

“Are you okay?” The child asked worried.

Clockwork looked up at them. For a moment they were tempted not to say anything, just for a little more company. They stopped that chain of thought. Even if they could they shouldn’t. The child wouldn’t like it and the Observants wouldn’t either. Not that they cared what the Observants thought. It was time.

“I am fine… however I can now send you home.” Clockwork said rising from the bench.

“Yay!” He hopped up, a smile on his face.

Clockwork found where in time the child had come from quickly and soon there was another more stable portal in the tower. It would lead to the child’s room. He would be home and safe. He looked nervously at the portal. For a moment Clockwork thought he might not leave. Hoped he wouldn’t leave.

“Thank you!” The child hugged them before rushing through the portal eyes closed as if to ignore his fear.

The portal vanished and Clockwork was left alone. Seconds ticked past and then the clock the child had left in their hands after the hug started to ring. Its hands turning. Clockwork stared. Had that child really fixed it. Had he just fixed a paradox. A human child had just fixed a paradox.

“That’s not meant to happen…” Clockwork muttered.

#Danny Phantom #fanfic #writing #clockwork #cute

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celosiaa · 4 years

Text

i can almost see you

Summary: Tim says his final farewells.

Martin refuses to leave his side.

(for a prompt from @nebulousowl requesting an exploration of Tim saying his last goodbyes, and being comforted through it all)

CW: suicidal(ish) thoughts, discussion of death wish/martyrdom, heavy angst

this is a bit of a dark one--definitely heavy on the angst, but I’ve got the comfort here too, never fear. Though I would not classify Tim as suicidal, I could see how this piece could potentially be triggering for folks who struggle with those things. Please please please be careful!!! Love to you all! <3

“Honestly, I hope that John learned something from her because—because I don’t expect I’m going to be coming back from this. I don’t know if I want to. And if he needs to pull the trigger, to use me to stop it… well, he’d better have the guts to do it.”

Tim stops briefly, the faint flicker of compulsion fading away to nothing as he says these words.

My last words.

He knows it as sure as anything—this had been his last statement for the archive. Whether that means he escapes, or he dies, Tim can’t even find it in himself to care. Just for it all to be over.

He’s just got to end the tape.

“Timothy Stoker, August 4th, 2017.”

It’s so very like an obituary that he cannot help but laugh.

“Statement ends.”

Clicking off the recorder, Tim buries his face in his hands, rubbing at eyes that have seen no rest for days now. He hasn’t been able to sleep, able to eat, able to—anything, really, now he thinks of it. And what would be the point anyway? He’s only got to last a little bit longer.

“Tim? Are you alright?” a timid voice asks from the doorway.

Of course it would be Martin.

Of course.

“Well, isn’t this just the icing on the cake?” he says with as much vitriol as he can manage, pulling the corners of his mouth into a wide and terrible grin.

To his surprise, this does not seem to intimidate Martin in the slightest. Certainly, the man of a few years ago would have balked at this behavior, so worried even to look at someone the wrong way that he would rather just run out of the room. The expression he’s directing at Tim right now, however, speaks volumes as to just how much they’ve all changed.

“Look, you can—you can be nasty to me all you want,” he says, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “It’s not going to stop this conversation from happening.”

Bastard.

Wiping the grin from his face, Tim leans back in the wooden chair, which creaks a bit as he crosses his arms tightly across his chest. Martin absolutely refuses to look away, his eyes just boring into Tim’s with a steadily-building intensity—until he finally bursts.

“What? What do you want, Martin? Just spit it out,” he shouts, slamming a hand against the table and returning the stare with equal force.

“I heard what you just said,” he says quietly, refusing to match Tim’s outlandish volume.

“Great, thanks for eavesdropping then! Really appreciate it,” Tim spits, tipping back even further to stare angrily at the ceiling.

“Well, I’ve already heard it, so tough. And to be honest, it fucking terrified me.”

What?

Taken so completely aback by this language, his eyes immediately snap back to Martin—who is staring at him more seriously perhaps than ever before.

There was time I would have loved this, he thinks dimly, just a flicker of memory of teasing and laughter dancing across his mind—gone as quickly as it had come. It makes his head ache.

“Yeah—yeah, I mean it, alright?” Martin continues, straightening up even taller, firm in his determination not to let this go.

“What you said about not expecting to come back, and—” he breaks off to inhale a quick, shaky breath. “—and not wanting to. That bit. That terrified me.”

Seeing the fear written all over Martin’s face, knowing that he had put it there, that this might be the last time he saw him—

Tim can’t think about it—he won’t.

Just get out just get out just get out

“If this is your idea of an intervention, Martin, it’s very sad,” he says, standing from the chair with a wooden creak and crossing the room quickly.

A firm hand grips his upper arm before he can make it to the door—and it’s been so long since anyone has touched him that he cannot help but freeze in his tracks, briefly overwhelmed by the sensation. He stares down at Martin’s hand on his arm, frozen in shock.

“I know, alright?” Martin says, clearly fighting with his own voice to keep his tone gentle. “I know this probably won’t help, and you probably won’t listen to me at all, and that it might all be rubbish.”

Tim can’t help but huff out a derisive laugh at this as he tries to move away again—but Martin’s grip remains firm.

“But I also know you, Tim.”

You don’t know me you don’t know me you don’t

“I know you, alright? And I know what you’re trying to do—be a hero, be a martyr, sacrifice yourself for the sake of vengeance—"

“You know fuck all about me,” Tim hisses, cutting off whatever ridiculous nonsense Martin was about to say at once, trying yet again to shoulder past him.

And he’s stopped again—this time by a gentle hand on his shoulder. It’s warm and soft and…and kind.

Something is coming back to Tim now, scratching at the back of his mind like some half-forgotten dream.

“That’s not true,” Martin says, sharp and low. “That’s not true and you know it.”

…I do know.

Clawing to the surface of his thoughts, of his memories, of everything that he’s tried to shut down or block out for the last few months are pictures—small scenes in flashes, colors all faded and running together, yet still somehow so vivid it makes his head spin.

Martin on their first day of work together, chasing a dog around the archives while Tim tries to stop laughing long enough to catch it.

The two of them seated at the breakroom table with ice cream, Martin listening to him pine after Sasha with a small smile on his face.

Martin staying at his apartment for a bit after his mother decided to move out, watching telly and eating pizza and just taking comfort in each other’s presence.

Martin sitting with him on the floor of the archives bathroom, rubbing his back and listening to him pour out his grief on the anniversary of Danny’s death.

Sasha and himself sharing food and wine with Martin after he’d ended up staying in the archives—and Martin confessing his crush on Jon at last, blushing fit to burst.

Martin driving him to physical therapy after the worms had injured his shoulder, trying to make up for having left him behind, though he has insisted over and over that it’s not Martin’s fault.

The two of them trudging through the tunnels under the institute, with Martin supporting his weight after he’d turned his ankle.

Both of them together, sharing their grief over Sasha—until Tim had begun to pull away.

Even now, Martin still reaches out to him, still checks on him, knowing he’s been so full of despair and anger and sorrow that he’s drowning in it. Even now, he still continues to throw him a lifeline, and Tim knows he’s been so nasty, that he’s been cutting everyone out and everything is just so wrong—

Someone gasps—and Tim quickly realizes it was himself.

“Tim?” Martin’s hand moves from his shoulder to behind his elbow now, his brows furrowing in concern. “You okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he manages to mumble, his voice coming from somewhere far beneath the earth.

The room begins to spin.

“Woah, okay, just—just sit down, alright?” Martin urges, guiding him quickly back toward the chair with hands clasped behind his elbows. “I’ll get you some water.”

Sit down? But—

When he looks up again, he is already sitting, head buried in arms he’s crossed over the table in front of him. He lets out a soft groan at the movement, the office around him pitching sickeningly—and promptly folds over onto his arms once again.

God, how did I get here?

How did I become this?

He stays quiet for several moments, rubbing his forehead miserably into his arms as he begs his vision to stop swimming. Even now, he’s considering running, overwhelmed by everything that’s just flooded his memories, hoping that if he runs again he can just ignore ignore ignore until it’s all finished. Until he’s finished.

“Tim? I’ve got you some water.”

Once again, Martin is there to stop him, bringing a bit of comfort with him in the process.

God. He shouldn’t even care about me at this point.

I’ve done everything I could think of to make him stop.

Chest twinging with the weight of it, Tim raises his head slowly, unfolding his arms to prop himself up to sitting braced against the table. Martin pulls the chair around from the other side, setting himself catty-corner to him.

“You alright?” he asks in a near-whisper, tilting his head to try and get a better look at Tim’s face.

The gentleness with which he asks this question is enough to bring a lump immediately to Tim’s throat, and he reaches out for the glass set in front of him—swallowing the tears and the water down to the last drop.

“Alright, that’s good, that’s—that’s great,” Martin praises, though it does not sound at all like he thinks so. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

Tim cannot bring himself to reply. He’s quite certain Martin already knows the answer to that question, anyway.

Is this really how I want to leave this?

How I want to spend the last of our time together?

To leave without even an apology, after everything.

In a moment, he makes a decision, gripping every foul thing that has forced him to hold his tongue and casting it all away.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” he mutters, hanging his head. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“It’s alright,” Martin says, because of course he would.

“It’s really not.”

Turning to face him now, Tim is greeted with hazel eyes full of worry, lines creasing between eyebrows that have shot up past his fringe. He can’t help but smile sadly at the sight—knowing that Martin will never understand, how hurt he will be over whatever happens tonight, how hard he’s tried to make friends in this world, only to have them all stripped away till none remain—barely Jon, and not even Tim anymore.

He deserves to know. He deserves to have a place to visit her.

The smile Tim offers him now only furrows the lines of worry on Martin’s face closer, and Tim knows he must really look rather frightening at this point.

“Look, I—I want to show you something,” he says, standing carefully from the table. “Something you should know about.”

“What do you mean?” Martin asks apprehensively, standing with him, arms hovering near Tim’s elbows, just in case.

“It’s not far,” Tim assures, grabbing his keys from the table and making his way toward the door. “We’ve got some time yet.”

“Wait, Tim, where—?”

He turns back to face him, meeting him with an expression that begs for his trust, however unearned it may be.

“Just follow me, okay?”

“O…kay?”

Though his fears are far from disbanded, Martin follows Tim out of the office, flicking out the lights out behind them in a final farewell.

---

Upon reaching the cemetery, the one where Danny has been buried for nearly four years now, Tim leads them quickly down the earthen path, straight toward a patch of trees and brush on their left. Behind him, Martin stammers a bit in confusion.

“Tim, I thought…I thought Danny’s was over—oh.”

Tim has stopped now, a few yards back into the trees, where he has erected a small monument. It’s not much, really—just a stake in the ground, sanded and stained cherry with his own hands, and a bit of carving at the top.

Sasha Eloise James

4 August 1985 – 29 July 2016

“The Best”

“Oh,” Martin chokes, a bit wetter this time.

Turning at the sound, he looks Martin over—finding him rapidly blinking back tears.

“Just thought,” Tim starts, his voice coming out hoarser than he’d expected. “Just thought you should know this is here.”

He pulls his eyes away from Martin to give him some privacy, as well as to allow himself to breathe through the memories—all distorted by the face of the Stranger, now. After a few deep inhales, it seems Martin finds the strength to speak again, his voice wobbling only a bit around his tears.

“You made this?”

“Yeah,” Tim replies, brushing his thumb over the carving to scrape away some dirt that has built up there. “Probably not exactly legal, but…I didn’t really care.”

“It’s beautiful,” Martin whispers, stepping forward at last to stand at his side, his simple act of camaraderie pulling a wry smile to Tim’s face.

“She was beautiful,” Tim says, the constant hollow of his chest flooding with something both aching and lovely as he speaks. “I can’t…I can’t remember her face exactly, but I remember that. And so smart. And—”

“And kind,” Martin finishes, reaching an arm across his shoulders, the warmth of it seeping deep into his back. “Always kind. And always willing to stick up for you.”

“Yeah,” Tim’s voice breaks properly now, and he hangs his head to hide the tears stinging in his eyes.

Martin notices, of course. As always.

“And bossy, a bit,” he continues with a smile, pulling Tim into a proper side hug now, running a hand comfortingly over his upper arm.

Tim can’t help but laugh roughly at this, the sound of it more choking and wet than anything.

“Yeah a bit,” he whispers, the tears at last spilling over his cheeks.

It’s too much, it’s all too much, and it aches aches aches—he can’t help but double over, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it all, biting back against the sobs threatening to burst from his throat.

“Hey, hey,” Martin soothes, rubbing his back, gentle as ever. “Are you alright?”

No, he wants to say more than anything.

I don’t think I ever will be.

“Just…just give me a moment, would you?” he asks, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Oh—yeah, erm…I’ll just be at that bench, okay?” Martin says at once, stepping back and thumbing in the general direction of a park bench they had passed.

Tim merely nods in response, and then Martin is gone—leaving only him, the quiet, and the birds singing above. He lets it lie there for a moment, staring down at the curving letters of her name, trying desperately to remember her face, her true face. But nothing comes to him—nothing save the rising static and the cold and the dark.

I’ve got to tell her. She has to know.

“I haven’t forgotten you, you know. Never could do. You’re—‘unforgettable,’ as you put it. Thought about carving that on your post here, but I could hear your voice in my head saying it was ‘too on-the-nose.’”

He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face now, the memories feeling closer to him than perhaps ever before.

“I…I think I’ll be seeing you soon. Really soon, in fact—you and Danny both. And I just want you to know that it’s alright, that I’m not scared, and that I’m going to see justice done. I won’t stop until it’s done, I promise.”

Crouching down in front of the post now, he rubs his thumb back over her name again and again, memorizing the feeling of it in his hands to tide him over for however long he has left on this earth.

“I promise, sweetheart. I know you hate when I call you that, but it’s just the truth, isn’t it?”

With a soft smile, he rises back to standing, knees aching in protest as he brushes them off.

“Can’t wait to see you, Sash. We’ll have a laugh at the whole thing soon, I’m sure.”

As he starts to turn away, his heart shatters with the thought that this can’t be it this can’t be it this can’t be it—

And he turns back, laying his hand to rest on top of the cherry wood.

“Tell Danny I’m coming, okay?” he whispers—before looking away at last.

What more could he say? What more could he say that she doesn’t already know, that Danny doesn’t already know? He’ll be there soon, and he’ll say it all again, hundreds of times, thousands even, if they have the time—

“You alright?” Martin asks, standing from the bench as Tim makes his way back through the trees. “You look pale—maybe we should sit a little.”

“I’m fine, Martin,” he lies easily, and with a smile. “I promise. We can go, unless you want a moment.”

Martin seems to consider this briefly, gazing over Tim’s shoulder at the trees behind him, worrying at his bottom lip.

“No, I…I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet,” he replies at last, voice low and rough.

“That’s alright. Let’s just go then.”

As they walk, Tim tries not to hear Martin’s muffled sniffling, tries not to think about him coming back here, utterly alone in his grief—when he’s reminded of Jon.

God, Jon.

…he deserves to know too.

Even after everything.

“Tell Jon about this after, alright?” he says, turning toward Martin as they walk. “So he can come here if he wants.”

“Tell him yourself,” Martin mutters wetly, eyes firmly fixed on the ground in front of him.

He knows.

He knows that this is the end.

He just doesn’t want to see it.

“Martin.”

Tim forces them to stop, turning Martin towards him with a hand on his shoulder. The tears welling in Martin’s eyes, wild with repressed panic and sorrow, are like knives in Tim’s chest.

God, Martin.

I’m so sorry.

“Promise me. Promise me you will,” he begs in earnest, grabbing Martin lightly by the folds of his jacket.

At this, the pools in Martin’s eyes begin to run over, unbidden and so full of hurt Tim could choke on it.

“I will. I promise,” he murmurs, voice thin enough to shatter.

Good man.

Quirking up a half-smile at this, Tim reaches on hand up to rest on his cheek, thumbing at the steady flow of tears.

“Thank you, Martin. Thank you for—”

--lovingcaringlaughinglisteningcryinggrievingholdingreaching—

“—for being with me.”

He pours as much meaning as possible into these words, broken and small and fragile—and suddenly he’s being hugged—properly hugged, wrapped up in a warmth that makes him sigh in relief from the comfort of it all. A proper Martin hug.

Not a bad way to end things after all.

“Just please try to come back alright?” Martin begs, voice rumbling in Tim’s ear where he’s got it pressed into Martin’s chest.

“Martin—”

“Just try. That’s all I ask. Try to make it out. It’s what they—it’s what Sasha and Danny would both want.”

He doesn’t understand he doesn’t understand he doesn’t understand.

Biting back against the lie with all the strength he has left, Tim reassures him of a falsehood too dreadful to bear.

“I’ll try,” he whispers.

“Thank you.”

At last, Martin pulls away—eyes still brimming and swiping his nose desperately against his sleeve—but offering a gentle smile all the same. He’s choking it all back, and Tim knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s for his sake—and can’t help but return the favor.

“Come on then,” he says, shoving Martin’s shoulder good-naturedly. “Plenty to do before it’s dark.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #cw suicidal thoughts #martim if you want it mayhaps #timsasha as well #and some background jonmartin #my writing #for real though be careful with this one #it's the saddest thing i've written so far i think

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Darkwing Double Feature: The Quiverwing Quack and Paint Misbehavin (Paint Misbehavin Comissoned by WeirdKev27)

Greetings darkwings of the night! It’s time to return to our daring duck of mystery for a third double feature! This one’s been a longtime coming.. as in since around black friday when I did a comissions sale. As usual Kev was my only customer and he bought both Splatter Phoenix episodes... and I shamefully admit this one has sat in my queue for a while as I wanted to finish the justice ducks retrospective first, as I also wanted to cover Quiverwing Quack’s first appearance, on my own time, and I wanted to save doing any Negaduck till I got done with Justice Ducks. And that’s where errors were made, as I PAUSED said retrospective forgetting I both had this review sitting in my queue, and that I really didnt have that much left to go on it. SO yeah this took WAY longer than I usually do for a commission, and I apologize for that and i’m happy to correct it, with this, along with the freebie I gave him at the time, coming out tommorow i’ll finally be caught up and promise this won’t happen again. So with my needed apologizes out of the way, let’s talk about why this is a double feature. Simple: Paint Misbehavin is Quiverwing Quack, Gosalyn’s superhero alter ego’s, only other appearance on the show. It would appear in the comics.. in a fashion.. but we’ll get to that. So it dind’t feel quite right covering one without the other, especially since this version of gos is a fan faviorite of many. So does our archer live up to the hype? Let’s get dangerous under the cut and find out.

The Quiverwing Quack:

This.. may be the best Darkwing i’ve seen so far. There is some competition of course, but this one is easily the frontrunner. It’s hilarious, has a really great and intresting plot, few faults, and is just.. about as good as this show can get. I could end that here but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t, so let’s get into why.

The episode starts with a fairly typical day for Darkwing: Fighting Negaduck, hilariously as always, and mocking his arch enemy for only being Public Enemy #2 behind Dr. Slug, an oft mentioned but never seen in an actual episode villian that’s apparently one of DW’s deadliest foes. So already we have a great motive for Negaduck, who usually just has the motive of “destroy darkwing’ or do evil, though to the show’s credit, just looking at the summaries for his other eps alone, they NEVER ran out of ideas for the guy or forgot he was as clever as he was ax crazy.

But just as he’s about to beat darkwing, Gosalyn arrives with an archery set Launchpad purchased for her and easily holds him down. And rather than be greatful Drake is mad at her and feels the arrows are too dangerous which.. fair those look to be real arrows but not the time or place. Gosalyn however is angry her dad stopped her and is chafing both under his overprotectivness and feeling this is about ego, creates her own crime fighting alter ego Quiverwing Quack, dragging Honker along as her sidekick Arrow Boy. He dosen’t WANT to get into hero work, but he’s afraid she’ll pulverize him if he dosen’t. HA HA.. GET IT.. BECAUSE SHE’S A GIRL AND IT’S NOT LIKE GIRLS CAN ABUSE BOYS HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAA

Yeah as you can tell that bit hasn’t aged well and is the one down note in an otherwise great episode. And I do mean great. Because this essential conflict works perfectly and is expertly built on what we’ve already seen of the characters.

For starters Gosalyn forming her own hero identity feels like a natural evolution of her character. It genuinely feels that, given her love for adventure and of her dad being a superhero, that she’d take the next step in wanting to follow in her footsteps and put on her own costume eventually. Her making her OWN rather than something derivitative of darkwing also perfectly fits both her anger at her dad’s overprotectivness and her own individual nature. The costume itself is.. okay pretty simplistic, with an early green arrow style hat and some gloves and boots.. but while I didn’t like it at first It’s grown on me a bit, as I realized it feels like the kind of a costume a kid would throw together and given Gosalyn dosne’t have her dad’s backing, it makes sense the costume would be slapped together. Grante dit dosen’t explain her trick arrows, but given we’ve seen gosalyn is pretty talented and that she can easily acess Darkwing’s lair, it’s not a huge stretch to say she went into her dad’s lair while he was gone, took some suplies and made the arrows herself.

And i’ll freely admit i’m a sucker for a good archer hero as Hawkeye is easily one of my faviroite superheroes. Which granted is a sentence I know will probably baffle anyone who hasn’t picked up a comic with clint, or has but it was written by brianmicheal bendis, as in the movies up to Endgame you could easily replace him with a block of wood with a purple h painted on it and no one would notice the difference. And other archer heroes like Arowette, Speedy, Kate Bishop, Arsenal and Green Arrow are also on the whole pretty fucking awesome, as is the Young Justice Cartoon version of Artemis and the JLU version of Green Arrow. So this was kind of a slam dunk for me and the fact Gos’ costume comes off as a combination of Hawkeye and Green Arrow, having Ollie’s hat but Clint’s purple color scheme and gloves with no sleeves aesthetic, just makes me all the more on board for this.

What truly makes the episode though is Darkwing, whose internal conflict is masterful to watch. While his being overproective isn’t anything new to the show, this episode takes it in a more dramatic directon: While there’s still a few jokes the episode gives some very painful reasons why he’s like this: He dosen’t want to loose his baby girl, both figuratively in her growing up and becoming more self sufficent.. and literally in her dying. It’s a terror any parent faces and it makes him sympathetic: While he IS overreacting at times and would be better off training her and helping nurture her while still keeping her safe, so when she DOES run off to do her own thing she’ll be ready, you can’t blame him for not wanting that, for wanting her to just stay home, stay safe and stay ALIVE. The comics, which i’ve read some of and will cover here at some point, make this hit HARDER as during the second arc, where we meet a bunch of Darkwing Ducks from other dimenisons.. and one of them is Quiverwing Duck. You can probably guess just by the name what happened to his Gosalyn after years and years of working together.

So the risk .. is very real. Loosing her is VERY possible. Being a kid to teen superhero is a VERY dangerous line of work as with less experince and being a possible target if you have any mentors, and sometimes you genuinely DON’T make it. Cypher, Jason Todd Robin, Ultimate Peter Parker, Synch, Danny Chase, Kid Devil, Skin, Wallflower, Icarus, Genisis.. the list goes on, and on, and while MOST of them came back even then the ones that did didnt exactly lack in scars: Jason was never the same after the joker’s beating and Doug, Cypher, had severe trauma he never adressed. The danger Darkwing fears is VERY real.. but is a danger she faces ANYWAY by rushing in and acompanying him. The tragedy is traning her would at least give her a fighting chance as it’s clear from the above that Quiverwing Duck’s Gos died not because she wasn’t ready or because her dad din’t train her.. but because , like MOST of the heroes above.. she died a hero saving the world. And the show recognizes this even if it doen’t mention the death because the show has to have limits and it was the early 90′s, wiht Darkwing’s fears also being that she’s growing up. He knows sh’es capable of this.. he’s just tearful she’s growing up.. and that she could be gone. It puts his overprotectiveness from other episodes in a much more understandable light, and makes it clear that while it comes from a good place it’s not really healthy: As the episode shows, Gosalyn thinks ALL he sees of her is a baby to be coddled and protected and not as her own person, and while he’s right to protect her.. he’s gone so far in it and in dismisisng her again, and again AND AGAIN, that he’s given the poor girl a complex. Leaping into danger alone isn’t the answer.. but when we get to the climax of the episode you can see why it’s gotten this bad. It’s suprisingly layred for what’s normally a pretty simple character conlficts. Here there’s no easy answer and even while by the end Darkwing’s accepted she’ll be a hero someday and both earnestly apologize, ther’es no real resolution. And sometimes.. that’s okay. It’s something they could’ve revisited had the series gone on and we did get at least one sequel episode at least and the comics do explore the issue of gosalyn being a kid hero and drake’s overprotectiness, with his issues there being why he retired and ended up badly straining his relationhip with gosalyn and ending , for a while, his friendship with launchpad and relationsihp with morgan as well as his costumed career. But obviously as I said we’ll get to that another day. But as an episode.. this one is truly excellent and one of the best the series put out, with plenty of humor but the more complicated dynamics at play BUILT on what we’ve seen before, including Gos rightfuly supsecting dakwing’s against her due to his own ego at points, are what elevate it to the series best. So how’d they follow it up?

Paint Misbehavin:

This one’s in an awkard middle place, where it’s FAR better than the previous splatter Phoenix Episode but not as good as “The Quiverwing Quack”. Still it’s a pretty fun episode all together. So the main plot is that Darkwing and Gosalyn are at cross purposes because Darkwing is overshadowed by Gosalyn, in this case at the local comic con where Gosalyn, returning to her Quiverwing Quack guise, is the big new thing while Darkwing’s practically ignored.

Yeah no way around it this is a rehash of “Whiffle While You Work”, same basic conflict, just with suprheroing instead of a video game. So naturally at first it annoyed me especially since they had a debate over who was better, Darkwing’s old traditional hero or Gosalyn’s new very 90′s hero. This.. goes about nowhere and is just cringe inducing for me as a comics fan, whose not against 90′s characters but acknolsges the vast majority got better LATER under new writers, with the exception of some such as superboy, steel, kyle rayner and impulse, who were fresh out of the package. Thankfully.. the episode pushes past this and it ends up being a better version of Whiffle While You Work, as Drake isn’t as overbearingly obnoxious as he was there: Here Gosalyn is just as egotsitical, at one point trying to lead him away from a crime scene, and it’s only when they finally work as a team that they become unstoppable. It does say something though that Darkwing has genuinely grown as his objection is pure ego instead of overprotectivness like last time and he willingly lets her tag along even if he’s trying to show her up. It’s not the BEST conflict, and it ends with egos clashing, but while this part of the episode is recycled.. at least it’s recycling an episode that genuinely wasted the idea and using it better. Darkwing being jealous here is FAR more understandable as he’s been a hero far longer and while his ego is way too big for his head, it’s understandble to be a big pissy, and agian he dosen’t go nearly as far in how he treats gosalyn. He just wants to show up his own daughter and he’s shown as fully wrong for this. Not great but far better than before. What IS great and what makes this episode fun, is Splatter Phoenix, whose even better than last time. I attribute this to the change in voice actors. While Dani Staahl was excellent.. her replacment is far better and far more notable. It’s SCTV’s andrea martin... who i’m realizing most of you have probably never heard of.

Or know what SCTV is. It was before both our times trust me: it was an early 80′s sketch comedy show that had a unique premise as the sketches were all programs for a fictional tv station, and there’d often be wraparounds about what was going on at the station that oftne led to sketches or impacted them: From dealing with sponser issues brought on by the Moral Majority, aliens, the russians hyjacking their signal, and forging checks from Fred Willard’s account, yes that was a plot and yes he was indeed a guest star, there was no end to the number of shenanigans in and out of program. IT was really good stuff with an all star cast: John Candy, Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Cathrine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, Joe Flarhety, Martin Short, and of course Martin. Even Harold Ramis was on the show for it’s first season. It was just a damn good time and if you can find the dvd’s or clips on youtube I recommend it. My point is Martin is vastly underated and really deserves better than she’s gotten, and this eps proves it as her energy really adds to Splatter’s astetic and really fits the show like a glove and it’s a shame the show ended shortly after this episode, as it would’ve been nice to see her return in the role. But for a one shot she’s UTTERLY awesome, and Splatter gets to do far more this time as her brush has now expanded to be able to create, so we get helicopter cats, pumpkin dogs, a pink gorilla with a toaster for a head and when told superheroes always win she creates her own, absract man, with a hand for a head and a weird body and I just want to see more of him. He even skips off with Launchpad’s faivorie hero, bascally mr rodgers as a weasel, after launchpad draws the guy in. I want to see this gay couple fight crime with love and existetaalism dammit!

But yeah she’s just fun, as is her vandalism of various art works including making the dogs playing poker into skeletons.. which I now want a picture of for my room because that is nice. SHe also brings back the art shitfts from before in little ways, transforming darkwing into abstract art and to blocky art at diffrent points with her brush. And that’s what puts this episode over the other: The creativity is still there but without the whole “Honker being gaslighted” plot that I still hate to this very second, it’s allowed to be fun and fancy free and with Splatter out in the open she’s allowed to get a LOT more ambitious and thus the writers and martin get to have a LOT more fun with the gimmick.

So while I do feel the episode’s a bit crowded, as they try to cram in both splatter phoenix and this super feud between family into the same space and both episodes would’ve been better served seperatley, i’ts so fun with clever use of the magic brush by our heroes and what not I can’t help but love it. I don’t love the climax though as splatter gets turpentine spilled on her by gosalyny and .. melts for some reason. Because she’s made of paint now even though that was never a thing before? Not to mention the fact our heroes just killed a person...

So yeah the ending’s a bit wonky but it’s a fun episode with the return of a great villian, a decent of played out main conflict and some great gags and fights in it. All in all i’m glad I got comissioned for this one and finally tackled it. Good stuff. So that does it for this. We’ll be back to darkwing next week just in time for valentine’s day.. and back with Negaduck too. Until then it’s been a pleasure.

#darkwing duck #drake mallard #gosalyn mallard #launchpad mcquack #negaduck #jim starling #splatter phoenix #paint misbehavin #quiverwing quack #honker muddlefoot #reviews #disney #disney plus

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benaffleckofcrowdsurfing · 4 years

Text

Lazerquest - part 4

Alex Turner x Reader

Chapter 4/?

Description: you are an impulsive bartender who recently moved to London after traveling across the United States and living on the road for a few years. You befriend Alex, a musician who recently got out of a long term relationship, and you show him the ways of your free-spirited lifestyle in an attempt to help him move on from his ex. However, you become more of a muse than a friend for Alex and all is revealed when he releases his band’s fourth studio album, “Suck it and See”.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Tag list (msg me if you would like to be added):

@lolurnotmileskane @imagine-that-100

Updates whenever the heck I please (at least once a week)

Author’s note: hi friends. This is a sucky chapter because im brain dead from work, but i promise things will pick up soon. Ive got big plans for this bad boy, i just need to figure out how to get there.

**************

“Here she is,” Alex burst, and stopped in front of a beautiful vintage Porsche. Your jaw dropped as he leaned up against the car. It was a beautiful deep green color with tan leather interior, and although it was obviously an old car, it was in pristine condition.

“Oh my god, Alex, this is yours? Is this a 1969 convertible 911?” You inquired, but you knew the answer. You were a bit of a car geek, and Porsches were some of your favorites. You ran your fingers lightly across the hood in awe, you couldn’t believe you were actually touching such a classic car. Alex had a proud grin on his face.

“Yes ma’am. One of my larger purchases after Favourite Worst Nightmare went platinum. She’s my baby,” Alex beamed, and opened the passenger door for you. “Your chariot awaits, Milady.”

“Why, thank you Sir,” you imitated Alex’s accent, before stepping into the car. He shut the door behind you and went over to the drivers side.

“I got a brand new sound system put in, it has an auxiliary cord and everything. You can go ahead and hook your phone up to it if you’d like, it’s your adventure so you can pick the music,” Alex said, and handed you a cord. He then turned on the car and shot you a huge grin. You pulled out your brand new IPhone 4 - a going away gift from your best friend back home - and scrolled through Itunes. You settled on another album that reminded you of home: Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californiacation. As the opening track, Around the World, began playing through the car’s speakers, Alex drove off and out of his apartment complex’s garage.

“So, where to?” Alex had to yell over the music.

“You know the vintage shop by the place I work?”

“Yeah, the one with all the leather and costumes and shit right?”

“That’s the one!” You chortled. Alex and you exchanged knowing glances before he stepped on the gas and you turned up the music.

The two of you were speeding through the city, and you thought you looked quite good. Your hair was flowing in the spring breeze, and your leopard fur coat matched the interior of the car perfectly. Alex looked cool as all hell in his oversized aviator sunglasses, and his toned arms resting on the steering wheel of the car made your insides weak. When you’d stop at a traffic light, the people in cars around you would stare and smile at you, and to be honest you liked the attention. You liked being the mysterious girl in a Porsche with Alex Turner. As the 911 pulled up to the vintage shop, you clapped your hands in excitement.

“I hope you brought your wallet, Turner. We’ve got shopping to do,” you winked at Alex as he opened your door and put a hand out for you to hold onto as you exited the car. What a gentleman.

When you entered the shop, you grabbed Alex’s hand and dragged him towards the huge section of racks containing leather jackets.

“Alright, Al. Remember when I said I knew how to make your outfit perfect? Well here we are. You need a good vintage jacket to match that vintage shirt and vintage car of yours,” you smirked. Alex gave you a massive grin before practically diving into the massive collection of jackets.

“You go look around, Y/N, and I’ll show you the one I choose once I’ve found it. Like some sort of big reveal,” Alex instructed. You ruffled his hair and squeezed his arm before skipping away.

You found yourself in the dress section, like usual, and began digging. Most of them were rather cheesy numbers from the 80’s, but just as you were about to give up and move on, you found a stunning 60’s Mod style dress. It looked like a checkerboard, it was 4 huge grids alternating between black and white. It was a rather stretchy material and was a bit short, which you thought was unusual for the time period, but you knew that it’d just make the dress far more flattering. A huge grin appeared on your face, and you darted to the dressing rooms to try it on.

Just as you had slipped the dress on, you heard Alex calling your name. You were so eager to see the jacket he had picked out that you didn’t bother to look to see how the dress looked, you opened the curtain to go find Alex. You were surprised to see him waiting for you right outside of your dressing room. Both of your jaws dropped at the sight of each other. Alex looked amazing in his jacket, he had picked a rather worn one in a biker style that looked to be around the 1950’s era.

“You look like a greaser, Al. Like a modern Danny Zuko or something. It’s fantastic,” you gushed. Alex hadn’t said anything yet, he just looked at you with wide eyes and a little smirk.

“And you look like a modern Twiggy. Absolutely brilliant,” he breathed, before taking a step towards you. He traced the outline of the dress with his large hands, before reaching for the price tag. He was so close you could smell him, this time the sandalwood and cigarette was accompanied by the smell of worn leather. “I’m buying this for you.”

“Oh no you aren’t, you can buy your own jacket and I’ll buy my own dress. Oh and those SHOES!” you gasped and practically ran to the wall of shoes. You pulled down a pair of chunky soled white go-go boots and squealed when you discovered they were in your size. You put them on right there in the middle of the shop and gave Alex a huge smile. “Thoughts?”

“I don’t think you want to know what I’m thinkin, Love.” Alex’s eyes were glued to you, the corners of his lips curled up into a devious smile.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a little nudge. “Stop playing, Alex. I’ve got to go take this beauty off, then I want to go look at costume jewelry. Then our day can really start.”

“Brilliant.”

“Be back in a jiffy.”

When you had come out of the dressing room, you found Alex at the front of the shop looking at jewelry. The man behind the counter was showing him a gorgeous yellow diamond choker with a black diamond in the center.

“It’s a 30’s era piece, one of my personal favorites. I think it’d look absolutely lovely on your bird, there,” the man said and nodded towards you and then back at Alex.

“I think so too, Sir. I’ll take it,” Alex beamed. You blushed when he looked down at you and bit his bottom lip. “And don’t let her pay for those shoes and that dress either, I’ll take care of it.”

You frowned. “Alex, seriously. I can buy my own things.”

“I don’t care, I want to buy them for you.”

“You don’t need to do that for me.”

“Y/N.”

“Alex.”

“Y/N/N.”

“Al. I’m being so serious.”

“Do I need to show you my bank statements? Trust me, it’s nothing. Think of it as a little thank you for staying up with me last night.”

“Alexander….”

“Y/N…..”

“Cut it out and move so I can pay for my shit.”

“Nope. I’m buying them for you.”

“You’re impossible, Al.”

“You love me, Y/N/N.”

**********

Once Alex and you had returned to the car, he took the necklace out of the bag and instructed you to turn around. He wrapped it around your neck and gently moved your hair out of his way so he could fasten it. Once it was on, he turned you back around, and fixed your hair. He was still wearing his new jacket, and you took the moment to admire how good he looked. Neither of you spoke, he just stood there with his hand on your shoulders, smiling down at you. You could feel your cheeks turning pink as the two of you locked gazes. After what felt like an eternity of blissful silence, he chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re an interesting one, you.” He muttered as he opened the door of his car for you. “So, where to next?”

“Not sure. Just travel East till you reach the water. I want to go for a swim,” You hummed.

Alex looked at you, rather amused, before starting the car. “I know just the place.”

************

By afternoon time, both you and Alex had shed your coats and were driving down a windy, narrow, road, soaking in the sunshine. You had taken off your shoes and your seat belt so you could lounge your legs up on the dash and look up at the sky above you. Alex had put on Room on Fire by The Strokes, and the two of you sang along as you sped towards the beach. He had one arm draped over the steering wheel, the other alternating between playing chords on the air guitar and messing with your hair.

When the two of you made it to the beach, it was nearly sundown. Alex had taken you to a small village perched on a cliff above a large and sandy seashore, and the two of you parked on a small bluff before hiking down towards the water.

“You know, you said you wanted to swim, but neither of us have swimwear,” Alex called after as you ran down the bluff and onto the beach. You didn’t answer him, though, you just turned to face him and took off your top. Alex was extremely taken-back by what you had just done at first, but when you continued to slip off your shorts and skip down the beach, he caught on and took off his own shirt and jeans. You were quite a bit closer to the water than him when he had done so, but just before you were about to stick your toes in the cold water, a pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground.

You let out a little shriek as Alex threw you over his shoulders. He adjusted his arm around your thigh, and began walking deeper into the water.

While helpless in the arms of the musician, you couldn’t help but notice his boxers. “Nice dino undies, Al. Very badass of you.” You gave him a playful slap on the bum and he slightly tightened his grip on your legs.

“Well I’m sorry that I didn’t expect to be getting naked in public today, Y/N. Not all of us can wear an Agent Provacateur set on some random Tuesday.”

You knew Alex was referring to the undergarments you had chosen this morning, and you laughed. Sure, it was a black and lacy number and looked a bit fancy, but it definitely wasn’t Agent Provacateur. “For your information, Al, I got this at Target. And watch your mouth, Buddy, I’m not some slut that just expects to end the night in her bra and undies. I just like to feel put-together.”

“Oh, trust me Y/N, I’m not complaining,” Alex smirked. He was now waist deep in the waves, and still had you on his shoulders. He shifted you down so he was carrying you bridal style, and grinned at you before biting his lip. “Now are you ready to get wet?”

You smirked to yourself a bit. If you had held my thighs like that any longer, Turner, you wouldn’t have had to put me in the water for that to happen.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Alex,” you laughed. When he told you to hold your breath you did, and at that he tossed you into the water. The cold of the ocean bit you the moment you hit the wave’s surface, and you gasped in shock.

“Jesus it’s cold,” you shrilled. Alex laughed hysterically as you tried to climb on him and out of the water, still shaking due to its temperature. He pushed you off of him, and when an exceptionally large wave came your way he completely submersed himself under it.

“Bloody hell, you’re right. Fucking freezing.” He yelled as his head popped out from the white caps surrounding the two of you. “Why’d you want to do this, Y/N?”

“Well, you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!”

“Well then there you go, my plan worked out perfectly,” you beamed. The late afternoon sun gave Alex a golden tint, and with the combination of his wet curls and the waves surrounding him, you thought he looked something like a Greek god. The thought made you let out a breathy laugh, which caused Alex to scrunch his nose at you.

“Making fun of my Dinosaur boxers again, Y/N?”

You faked a gasp and put a hand over your chest dramatically. “I would never!”

“Then why are you staring, Love?”

Shit.

“Just trying to figure out how I can get you back under the water,” you sniggered. Alex began swimming away from you, so you chased after him and when you were close enough you put your arms around his neck. “Gotcha!”

“Oh, do you know?” Alex chuckled, and hooked his hands under your armpits. He lifted you all the way up and out of the water, causing you to giggle like a schoolgirl. When he put you back into the water, you wrapped your legs around his torso and placed your hands on either side of his face. Alex pressed his forehead to yours, and you looked into each other’s eyes.

The two of you were so close you felt like you could feel the atoms between you, and a massive smile painted itself across your face.

“You’ve got gorgeous eyes, Y/N,” Alex whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear over the roaring of the ocean. His comment caused your cheeks to turn as pink as the sunset behind you.

“As do you, Alex.” The two of you were still wrapped in each other’s arms, forehead to forehead and nose to nose. “Now, take me back to shore before it gets too dark. We’ve still got items left on our agenda.”

Alex furrowed his brows before turning around and allowing you to climb on his back. “What more could you possibly have in store for us, Y/N.”

“You’ll see.”

“You know, being with you is like constantly getting left on a cliffhanger.”

“I like that, Al.”

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baekchelor · 4 years

Text

ａｓｈｏｒｅ[x]

pairing: bodevan cash x reader genre: Doctor! AU, Romance, Angst summary: After a fall out with your fianceé, and an opportunity to chase your dreams, you embark into a medical mission trip to Namibia where you run into self-taught doctor Bodevan Cash. Love ensues. word count: 1.7k a/n: Hello, hello! Let’s pretend we’re all hugging while I thank you all fro reading this story. I’m so sorry it took me so long to finally end it, but i really struggled with the outcome. Yes, she staying with Ethan was considered.🤭🤭 I hope you like the outcome. All the love, boos. ❤️❤️

❝I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.❞ ― bram stoker

EPILOGUE

ｆｏｒｔｈｅｅｎｄｌｅｓｓｄａｙｓ ◄ ｐｒｅｖ Bodevan wrote, "If you know I'm dying, and I know you still love me. Come back to me..." He wasn't dying; obviously, the only person inhabiting Bo's teepee whose days were numbered —unless a medical miracle occurred, was Danny. Although nobody was exempt on an accident or to suddenly drown in the sea, pushed by the strong winds at the Skeleton Coast, Danny's health was Bodevan's biggest concern. It grew worse each passing day, he barely had the strength to keep his lids open, and a despaired Peera held onto his fingertips with blood-shooted eyes. With careful words, and in response to your frantic call at 4am, Rellian explained the intended purpose between the lines in Bodevan's email. He was a professional, no doubt, he valued saving lives more than anything in the world, and that included you. Danny was his priority at the moment. Nevertheless, your absence had stolen further the already restless nights, it had triggered a loss of appetite in his rare lunch breaks. Bo's hunger for life started to fade away, he felt like dying each passing day you woke up across the world instead of wrapped around his limbs. It broke your heart because you knew —he confided in you—, it was a nightmare that haunted him at nights. To experience the same pain his father dealt with when Bo's mother left and later committed suicide, frightening him, and you've induced it to him. He feared the undying love you shared in Namibia was purely circumstantial, and the more days you spent in New York, the more the odds were against him and on Ethan's favour. Bodevan was wrong.

Because all the time you spent with him, left a thread knitted inside your soul. Bo's face never failed to taunt you in dreamland or drifted you into memories about África and its morning skies. You haven't stopped thinking about him either, not for a second, despite the lies you told yourself. Bendel's and Butter lost their attraction. The sole deeds you appeared to enjoy were Maoism books, Yo-Yo Ma and Glen Gloud's music —anything related to the boy with long hair and a mustard jacket. But Bodevan was right to an extent. When you saw Ethan's face amongst the crowd at JFK, your first instinct was to deny it all, settled to forget Namibia and the eccentric doctor that spent his nights restlessly sleeping in a sofá of a combi-turned-reception. So you found yourself in Manhattan, wanting to convert the shores in the city, mixing the sky with the Atlantic sea, letting Bo escape as you agreed to lose him. Problem was, despite your efforts, Ethan's caresses couldn't erase the trace of Bodevan. Inside Ethan's bed, wrapped underneath Ethan's sheets and Ethan's arms, your heart still belong to Bodevan. You started drowning in photos, dreams, songs, memories that connected you to him, and even though you couldn't understand it, you began to feel insane. How could you deceive your soul? It was evident, Bodevan Cash held it under his possession. No matter how many times, how many people said you were drowning in an empty glass because there was no comparison between Ethan Gandy and some unknown, weird-named joke of a Doctor [in their exact words], you couldn't forget the night he kissed you and laid you down on the sand. Both them and Ethan, and your family, and even your own subconscious —you wanted to shut them all up, arguing you've forgotten him, that Bodevan was meaningless to your life and to your heart. The thing is, he wasn't... He taught you to stole the seconds away from time, to admire the sky, to say little white lies if it meant to spend more time with him, and to replace words with stares. You learnt more than a thousand ways to kiss, thanks to Bo, and it was because of him that you discovered what is to truly love. He forgot one final instruction though because you still didn't know how to live without him. Your mouth dreamed it kissed him, coffee tasted like sorrow and you couldn't gulp a single sip without recalling the mornings in your cabin, writing words into Bodevan's skin. Yet, it took you, eight more Sundays to finally break things off with Ethan. He didn't yell, you didn't cry, neither even mentioned Bodevan. Deep in your soul, though, you knew you've finally managed to let go of his hand due to an email you got from Namibia, where Bodevan stated that if you still thought about him, be assured that he still waited for you. Bo's words didn't push you out of Ethan to come running back to África, but they hit you the strong enough to make you realize, you were hurting people you loved and cared about. To finally be able to be with any of them, first, you needed to be with yourself, and let go of Namibia's rendezvouses and Ethan's divorce. You kissed Ethan one last time, you made love to him till the early hours of the morning, and after he said, "I'll love you forever, even when we're not together." And you responded, "Me too." You left.

Today, almost six months later, you're about to start a new chapter in your life. You left New York, only this time you weren't running away from a lie, or trying to figure yourself out. You are where you stand, to follow the dreams you've finally discovered. There's no ring around your finger, there is no remorse of what you left behind at your studio in Dumbo, neither on the apartment at the Upper East Side, where you seemed to spend more nights than in your own. The sky complains above you, roaring and ready to let free all the tears condensed inside black clouds. You're facing what —hopefully— will be the rest of your life, the future you are sure to desire. Instead of feeling nervous, you're overwhelmed by happiness. This time you are confident. It took you a long time, but now you can firmly express what you want, what you need, what you believe. You don't believe the sea will ever lose the taste of salt. You don't believe in luck, or in miracles. You don't believe in Karl Marx's ideas. You don't believe in the principles of Maoism. You don't believe in God.And certainly, you don't believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. So be it. With a deep breath, you walk into your future. You pass by the Australian boy who just had a heart transplant and the happy nurse feeding him breakfast. A smile curves your lips when a blue-eyed doctor nods in the direction of the beach, encouraging you to follow the path of shells and seaweed. You take off your sandals and allow your toes to relish in the sensation of the wet sand beneath. But the joy turns mundane when your eyes spot your very own belief. Yes, you believe in medicine. Moreover, you believe in his shy smile, in the kisses he gifts you, in everything he says. And in his morning-sky gaze. Bodevan hasn't seen you yet, he is standing at the shore, eyes closed and slowly breathing in and out. You try not to make noise, but you hurry because he's waiting there and you genuinely hope he's waiting for you. Once you're close enough to touch him, you hesitate, fearful that he will vanish at your touch because you've ached for him so long that it just hit you this might be a dream. And you're not in Namibia, and he's not here, and you're still laying down in Ethan's bed. But he is breathing, and he smells like vanilla and pinecones, and when your trembling fingertips write a greeting over the skin of his back, he turns around immediately. You're not dreaming anymore, he is real, but who's thinking the contrary seems to be him. Bodevan's ocean eyes are decorated with purple bags under it, and around his irises, sadness traces can be tracked easily. It takes one look at this boy to realize wherever he is, you'll go. He is your home. Your happy place. He is spring, a stairway straight to heaven, and you want to walk with him forever. He has given you so much, and you wanna give him so many more in return. You wanna be his ray of sunshine, the chords on his guitar, the cub of sugar in his coffee. The reason for his smile, not his heartache. "Please, I beg you, tell me you're real," Bo whispers in a very careful thread of words. "I haven't slept in days." A timorous hand reaches out to rest over his face, tenderly, "I am. I am here, Bo." "I believed you weren't coming back. That what we were, time left it behind." "I was an idiot," you answer. "I wrote to you emails that I never sent." Bodevan shakes his head, incredulous and almost giggling, "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, really. If you're here to stay."He is afraid of your answer, you know it, and you want to ease it all away with pampering kisses all over his face. But you know he needs the reassurance od promises and words. "Are you? Truthfully?" "I am. Truthfully." "One last thing," he says, his usual shy eyes facing you in bravery. "You love me. Truth or Untruth?" "Truth," you whisper, no hesitation in your voice. You could live without Ethan, you could live without New York, hell, you could even live without medicine. As long as you have Bodevan, and the haven that is his arms around your waist, and his kisses... Yes, you depend on him. And if you still have him left, then you have life. "More than anything and anyone. Above everything." Water starts to pour, and you bless the rains down in Africa, for always being a witness, as Bodevan cups your face to bring your lips together, and never let you go.

#ashore #ashore:finale #george mackay #bodevan cash #captain fantastic #George Mackay x reader

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stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

Who Needs Rescuing?

Part 2

Summary: Something awful happens to you. Danny hears your call!

Warning: Dan is coming to the rescue.

She sighed. “Alright well I am checking in later.”

“Good.” Looking back, he made sure she had gone. Over the last two years she really had really become like the little sister he always wanted but never had.

Thankfully since it was so early the streets were clear. He stopped for gas, just in case. Your words echoed in his mind. God, you were tied up. So many horrible people in the world. Only good things is, if they like Rose the Hat, they would have never let her roll down the side of the mountain.

Getting on the main roads, he sighed. He’d be there in no time.

He decided to reach out, perhaps give you some comfort.

“Y/N?”

“Yes.” Your shaky voice pulled on your heart.

“So like I said I’m Dan. I’ve known about my shining since I was about five, how about you?” He tried to give you comforting images.

“Me too. Apparently, I have to try learn how to control my screamed.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Today though it brought you to help me so it can’t be too bad.”

“It will be ok.” He grimaced. “Wanna tell me about yourself.”

“I guess I can.” He could hear as your teeth clattered. He began to drive a little faster.

“I’m twenty two, I have lived in Fraizer all my life.”

“Wait, what?”

“I live in Fraizer.”

“Where?”

“I just moved into the new condos that they put up on the west side of town.” He could feel as you smiled. “I just finished the mural in my bedroom. Why?”

“I’ve in the boarding house at the other end of town.”

“That is so crazy.” He could feel as you going back through your memories, all he could catch was the hand of a young woman with a little girl skipping beside. “Next, you are going to tell me that you help out at Teenytown.”

Now he was the one chuckling. “I do. My friend Billy got me the job there. I love seeing all the happy faces.”

“Well, then you’ve seen the absolute joy my little sister gets when she rides the train.”

He smiled. This should be interesting he mused. But then a dark shadow fell over him, eventually he’d have to ask what happened. Touching minds like this could be as please as a warm sunny but it could be sad too.

He took a breath, he hoped this went easily and of course you really hoped the people who had tried to snatch had not decided to return.

“Y/N, I’m on the road now. Try and see if you can show me where you are.” He slowed the speed of the car.

“I am over here.” You pushed.

He felt as light fingers pushed him. “Kept it up, I am parking.” He pulled over and parked beside a tall snow covered pine tree, “Ok, let’s try with a little more force.”

Her pushed was intense. He called out a cross between a scream and a groan from the force of it.

“Dan, I am so sorry. Are you ok?”

He held onto the steering wheel and was glad he was still buckled in or he was certain his body slam in the back of the car.

He took a deep breath. “I’m I’m alright...” He said out of breath. “I have an inclining where you are.”

“Ok...I’m sorry.” You said in a soft voice.

“It’s alright.” He ran his fingers through his hair. Opening the door he shivered as the cold embraced him. The wind��s fingers managed to sneak under the his clothes, making him shiver again. He came around grabbing a blanket and sweater.

As the blue dawn light began to fade, it shifted into the cold wintery white light.

He walked over to the part of the where there was fewer pine trees, “Y/N! Y/N!” He called out in your head and aloud.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” You voice aloud was not even close to as strong as the one you projected.

He shielded his eyes, he looked down. He saw you and it broke his heart. “Y/N,” he said gently in your head. “I see you. Don’t move.” He gauged the incline. He could do it. Running back to the car, he put the sweater and blanket back. Grabbing his pocket knife, he slipped it into back pocket.

Gritting his teeth he went down to where you were. He really dug in his boots as he went down. He shielded his thoughts the best he could. How you managed to survive this was beyond him, but it certainly made you one strong cookie.

He finally reached where it had leveled out and your body had come to a rest. He hazarded a gaze off the edge. Shock slapped him, you would have never survived that. He shook his head and came over to you.

“Y/N, I’m here.” He knelt down beside you. You were wearing some kind of dress that looked partially destroyed. “Dan...” Fresh tears streamed down your face. They created clean paths down your dirty face.

“Oh...what had they done to you?”

He looked you over carefully. Your legs were already bruised and bare. You wore no shoes or even boots. Your hands were still tied in front of you. When you moved to face him. He had to resist the urge to not react to the horrible swelling and bruise that was covering most of your face. Which he had not really noticed till you fully faced him.

He reached back for his pocket knife. “I am going to cut these robes, then lets get you out of here.”

You closed your eyes. The tears continued to fall. “Bring me home Dan. Bring me home.”

“Don’t you worry.” He tried to give you the warmest smile despite feeling sick to his stomach with whatever had happened to you.

He cut the bonds and then gently he helped you stand and you felt right into him. You were so small and crumbled. “Please allow me.” Taking a breath, he picked you up. “Hold on.” Then you held on and nestled close. Carefully, he climbed up, with no hitches.

#dan torrance #danny torrance x y/n #danny torrance x reader #fanficton #ewan mcgregor #dr sleep #abra #part 2 #who needs rescuing

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years

Text

Ectober Day 6 & 24: Silence & Nothing - Nothing To Ring In The Sound Of Silence

Logic says nothing gets to exist forever, but Danny has made a habit of defying both logic and the laws of the universe. But that’s just Danny, not everything or everyone else.

*Note: So I combined these two days in this fic because it just flowed so damn well for me. Originally this was just supposed to be for ‘Silence’ but it evolved. I didn’t really feel it long enough to break into two chapters.

It’s been a long time. A long time since everything happened. A long time since there’s been anyone. Danny stops in his floating to stare at the dilapidated statue of himself, speaking purely to hear sound, “the world’s been silent a long time”.

It hadn’t happened suddenly, of course it hadn’t. That was part of how Danny knew in his gut that he might not be able to do anything. See Danny’s problems, his fights and the catastrophes he stopped, they always popped up suddenly with great alarm. But the slow decay and breaking down of everything’s genetics had crept up on everyone.

It had started with the oldest of creatures and things. Old world ferns and bugs and birds. No one gave much of a damn besides those who truly loves those things. Sure some people mourned the extinctions, but humans had been driving things to extinction for a long time. Most of the world even rejoiced when misquotes seemed to get hit, but the fields of science went into a panic. Because with that drop, so too did many others decline in numbers; bats most notably.

But it wasn’t until some fruit plants started to go that the rest of the world began to worry. There had already been a food crisis and this would make it worse. Other people only cared that they would never get to eat another banana or leaf of lettuce again.

But the commotion was enough to get Danny curious. If this had started back when Sam was still alive, he would have paid attention sooner. But it had been a long time since her, or Tucker, or even Amity. It had hurt when the town had to be abandoned, no longer able to financially support all the excessive damage. Course Danny still protected the place, but repairs didn’t happen much. Leaving the place too destroyed to be inhabitable by humans. But Danny was part ghost, something stagnant, something that didn’t do ‘change’. So he never really left, just made Amity his lair in genuine. Modifying and altering it as he pleased. The roads glowed, the nasty burger always had ectoplasmic food even if no one worked there, buildings began repairing themselves, colours changed according to the halfas mood, etcetera. The rest of the world was perfectly content to let their saviour do as he pleased with the place and it even became something of a tourist hotspot and shrine to Phantom.

But it was also firmly a place no one wanted to actually stay in, catering to Phantom and Phantom alone. And he was weird, he’d always been weird. But after a few hundred years being stuck in between life and death. After losing all his human connections and many of his ghostly ones. He became a little too weird for most of humanity to handle long term. The snapping of fangs, the paranoia, the ease with which he could become a soldier on the battlefield, the utter disregard for his own safety, the treating of serious injuries like old friends and minor annoyances. He was too weird for most ghosts as well, the exception being other older ghosts. But most of those older ghosts were too stick in the mud or loners to be close with Phantom. An endlessly social, silly ghost filled with good-natured trickery and wanderlust. His lair was much the same, prone to playing tricks of the eye or leading people in circles. Sometimes disabling other ghosts powers at random or stealing their things only to return them as soon as the ghost left. The food that grew there, only appealing to Phantom himself. Mustard pickles that tasted of flowers, milkshakes made of frosted flakes that were somehow smooth not crunchy, apples that screamed with the texture of strawberry mousse. So while the place got plenty curious eyes and worshiping filled minds, it didn’t get any permanent residents. Other than the famous half-ghost himself.

And Danny didn’t really mind the silence, the chance to be alone, that his abandoned ghost town of a lair now granted him. It was a nice break from the constant action and sounds of battle that was his everyday life. So he relished it, the silence, the same way he relished floating lazily through the starry sky.

Smiling with nostalgia, Danny lands on the roof of the nasty burger, ghostly tail curling around the sign. Now Amity stood as one of the few places that wasn’t destroyed, that hadn’t crumbled to rot and litter. The irony of that makes Danny laugh. As he puts his head in his hand and looks up at the clear starry sky, light pollution no longer possible. He’d never thought he’d be upset about that. But he is. He is because of what it means. The lack of electricity, the lack of importance for it, the lack of humans, the lack of need for it. Danny’d always adored his night vision, did even more now, but what he wouldn’t give to get slightly blinded and startled by a fluorescent lightbulb suddenly going off. This thought gets Danny floating off the building to poke at a few lightbulbs. Sure electric had stopped being a thing in Amity long before the rest of the world. He had basically told everyone not to bother, seeing as he could and did just light the place with ectolights. What he hadn’t expected was having to eventually light the whole world with them. Now, well, now he didn’t even bother. There was no one or thing to make light for.

Danny himself hadn’t paid attention to, hadn’t really worried about, what was happening until the platypus went extinct. Other mammals rapidly following suit. And when the canines and felines got hit, that’s when the chaos started. When everyone started giving a damn in genuine. When the research got funded like crazy and became the focal point of news or awards.

Danny himself helped out by finding things for the scientist faster than any other person really could and bringing it back faster than even the best hovercoppers or jets could. This was the point where Danny managed to throw the world through another loop, surprise everyone again. No one really knew he was easily as intelligent as his sister, that his mind couldn’t decay because of his halfa state. Couple that with his body being constantly covered in a hazmat suit and being naturally antibacterial, well he was extremely helpful for the scientific and medical community. But Danny couldn’t help much when medicines couldn’t be made any more or when plastic became increasingly rare.

That was another thing about Danny and his problems. They came at him head-on and he faced them head-on. It was a battle, always something he could physically do. But not this time. This had been something marching forward slowly, decaying and eating away at all of life. So Danny did the thing he knew best and looked for ghostly reasons. Searched the Zone for any clues. And that, that’s when he truly began to worry, to freak out. Because the Zone wasn’t getting bigger, it wasn’t gaining any of the dead souls. Sure not everything that died became part of the Zone, but usually at least a third did. For nothing to be going to the Zone? That was more than just worrying, that was logically impossible. Asking around didn’t yield any results, and ClockWork had been concerningly impossible to find. In fact, Danny recalls, ClockWork had been impossible to find ever since then. Which makes him shiver, the implications of that were deeply concerning. Even if the enigmatic time ghost was supposedly immortal, like Danny. He’d even tried finding the other Ancients for answers, to no luck.

By the time he had hopped back into the mortal realm, the scientists had figured it out.

ClockWork had once told him that everything you see, everything you touch, all of it. Everything had a time limit. Everything was at the mercy of time. Even something as simple as genetics or air. And that time was apparently up. Everything’s genetics were functionally breaking down, Mother Nature being unable to reform it anew.

Danny remembers asking if they could reverse it, cloning was perfectly viable now just incredibly immoral and thus illegal. But of course, exceptions were made, except it didn’t work. No matter what they did the clones were never stable. Even cloning things as basic as chemicals failed. It’s chemical makeup or genetics turning to useless goo near instantly. As if forming those things lost was no longer even possible. In the end, Danny wasn’t too surprised, considering what he knew of Dani and her fate. Though a clone of him she had been, she wasn’t immortal, she was never truly stable. Eventually needing more and more treatments till it simply no longer lasted more than minutes. The two had made an agreement, had decided to let her fade with the closest thing to a father she ever truly had. And the closest thing to a daughter Danny would ever have. It would be unfair to bring a child into his half-life intentionally, so he never did and never would. That was a night he had grieved harder than almost any other before it, the ghosts and humans morning the loss with him, knowing exactly who and what the little black and white halfa girl was.

So with cloning written off, they had tried to create near exact replicas. Slightly changing things to try and achieve something stable yet similar enough to the original. There was some success on the smallest level before some extinct plants and missing medications became a lesser worry. Because then, then humans started to fall. Birth rates fell, till eventually there wasn’t a single baby in months. People started dying younger and younger. Started being unable to heal even paper-cuts or recover from the simplest of colds. Everyone became highly trained in first aid purely to keep their own bodies from falling apart on them. Synthetic skin and bones had never been more popular. Bionic limbs became so commonplace that seeing someone without any biometal was startling.

Danny did his part by being a highly mobile medical expert and being a pioneer in Biomech. Seeing as his very specialty was self accessing and self-treating injuries. Sure he frequently had to remind himself that these were humans and that they absolutely could not regrow limbs or liquify parts of their bodies to make reforming breaks easier. But he made it work and his knowledge had been vital for the survival of smaller towns and countries for a long time.

But then everything came to a head, Danny finally got the big impact he was used to. There wasn’t enough humans, nuclear plants were failing, safety measures weren’t being followed, people were ceasing to care. Danny tried to help keep order, but there’s only so much one guy can do. Getting any malfunctioning bombs off the planet, or cleaning water polluted with massive chemical explosions, or making sure collapsing skyscrapers didn’t destroy entire towns; took precedence over being a leader to the humans. Many parts of the world became uninhabitable in a very short amount of time and eventually, all Danny could do was check those areas himself for any change; giving reports back to the humans when he could. But it was at this point that Danny started to not relish the silence or being alone. He was too alone, everything was too quiet. No bugs buzzing, no undercurrent hum of electricity, no animal cries. It made his own voice jarringly loud in comparison, so he fell into silence more and more. Not just to avoid disturbing things or feeling too loud. But also because there started to not really be anything or anyone to talk to more and more.

He’s then reminded of a conversation he had with a young twenty-three-year-old scientist who looked something like a patchwork doll, as he floats to weave in between building windows slowly.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard a good joke from you, Phantom”.

“Telling them to dirt and rubble feels pretty foolish”.

She had laughed, “yeah, I guess it would”, there was a sigh, a pause in the conversation, “I think maybe you should. Your humour is a pretty vital part of who you are”.

“I’m not fading. I can’t”.

“I know. It’s just. It’s worrying honesty. You always have a joke to throw around, no matter the situation or how bad. Now you seem at a loss”.

“I am at a loss. Ran out of Avengers End Game ones a while ago and those aren’t even relevant anymore. No one even knows what ‘Avengers’ is now. I ran out of material and there doesn’t really seem to be a point to saying them over again”.

“See that, that’s why it’s worrying. You may only be half-ghost, but you’re still not a creature of change. If anything you’re more inclined against change than full ghosts. And yet here you are, changed. And ghosts... ghosts only change truly when reverting back isn’t an option anymore”.

“I’m still perfectly capable of making jokes and finding humour”.

“That’s not really what I mean. I’m saying that... that I don’t really think the reason why you’re out of jokes can be reverted”.

Danny hadn’t responded to that simply watched her with sad eyes and with facts creeping into the forefront of his mind that he didn’t want to hear.

While she continued, “I think your being can tell, knows on some level, that this isn’t a battle for you to face. Isn’t an enemy you can fight. Isn’t a world for you to save. That this just can’t be fixed, can’t be stopped”.

The was a pause for a while before Danny had nodded slowly and stopped floating to sit on the counter, “I’m never one to back down or give up. But, yeah. I don’t have the drive, the protective desire, that I should”.

She had only nodded and gotten back to work.

Shaking his head to clear away the memory, that had been a big thing for him. Really realising his obsession wasn’t acting up, that he didn’t feel the need to help. It had really sealed the deal for him, as all the life around him slowly dwindled away. Which resulted in him spending more and more time with the collections of young humans, less and less time off on his own. The people noticed, seemed to understand. But also strongly had no desire to acknowledge why Phantom was spending as much time with them as he could. Like one does with a dying parent or a pet on their way to being put to sleep.

It wasn’t long after that when Danny noticed something else, the Zone was...shrinking. Ectoplasm was seemingly beginning to decay and break down as-well. And unlike with the Mortal Realm, the most complex things went first. The most sentient of ghosts. And unlike the Mortal Realm it happened fast; in days even. Pandora’s fading had been cataclysmic, Danny had to hide away her box after ghosts kept stealing it. And that had started a long trend of Danny having to find this artifact or that potentially world-ending weapon, and hide them away. Being forced to split his time between the two dimensions as everything fell apart. Both sides had noticed this change in behaviour. Commenting that Phantom seemed like a man running around trying to keep the sky from falling down. Danny had cracked a few jokes about that, but they lacked the bravado and mirth they usually held.

And by the time the Zone plants started to wither away, Danny had pretty well abandoned the Zone. Instead spending what time he could with the remaining humans and living animals. All there was to see in the Zone was buildings and the occasional flora, which hardly needed his comfort. But all the same, he elected to not tell the humans. Not wanting to stir up hopelessness or panic. Though his actions told them all they needed to know. They just didn’t tell him such.

At this point, humanity was functionally split between anarchists and small communities. The communities eventually falling into anarchy themselves, as people lost any belief in things ever getting better. Danny had watched, tried to keep some level of order for a while. But eventually saw the pointlessness of it and people just trying to have some damn fun at the end of the world. Finally acknowledging what this was, what it had been; the apocalypse. And with this acknowledgment he changed, he joined what was left in screwing around. Unnecessary destruction, reckless self endangerment, the rock star lifestyle. Drugs, sex, and rock and roll. Fast, loose and with complete disregard for the future. What was left of the humans flocked to him at this point, riding the high of someone who could let them do things there’s no other way they could do. To say a lot of things had been crossed off bucket lists and final wishes granted, would be an understatement. Even if it made the loss of each individual person hurt Danny all the more. He really was always a self-sacrificial fool. A weaker more selfish person would have just left everyone to their fates. Not walked by their sides till they eventually could walk no more. Till the world fell and life simply stopped existing.

But Danny did, always would, as he was left standing looking between two worlds were nothing existed anymore. Where there wasn’t even air to make sound or any single thing besides him to break up the silence.

Danny runs his fingertips across the green road, slowly floating to sail outside of his lairs boundaries. To a vast empty expanse, buildings to ash not having his ectoplasm to build them up again and again. Chunks of the planet itself breaking off as the planet's core cooled away. The bits of hard ground illuminated by his glow and the few still travelling light of dead stars alone, the sun having winked out long ago.

Danny turns intangible and slips into the ground, floating down to sit on the Earths core. Before being jarred by his ghost sense going off for the first time in eons. Turning his head to his old mentor and friend, in their white beard and simple purple cloak. Turning his head away as he speaks, “it’s been a long time, Father Time”.

Earning a smirk from the Ancient ghost, “indeed”.

The two sit in silence for a while, Danny laying on his back on the Earths core, “makes sense I guess”.

“You hardly needed me. You and the Earth”.

Danny snorts, “I guess that says it all, doesn’t it. Nothing to do and nothing to help”. The two fall back into silence again, before Danny sits back up and leans into ClockWork to cry. Just the knowledge of something, of someone else being there made the sound of it less massive, less jarring, less painful. As ClockWork rubs his back, giving a level of comfort only a being that saw the end coming and had existed before all other sentient things, could provide.

Danny eventually sniffling and wiping his nose, “is there anything I could have done differently?”.

ClockWork sighs, knowing the self-punishment and blame had been coming, “I’m sorry Daniel, but this is how it has to be. Like all things, everything must have its end. To eventually fade into oblivion and the nothing”.

Danny curls his fingers into ClockWork’s cloak, “but me, I’m still here. I’ll still be here”.

ClockWork pats his head fondly, “of course. Always. Even nothing needs a guardian. And, as it always does, something comes from nothing”.

Danny nods, makes sense he was an Ancient himself but that hardly phased him. Instead asking, “so there will be life again?”.

“And therein lies something that not even time can tell”.

Danny gives a somewhat hallow smile, “I thought you knew everything”.

ClockWork bops him on the nose with a soft smile, “only nothing can know what nothing has in store”.

Danny rests his head on ClockWork’s lap, “so me, the Ancient guardian of nothing”.

ClockWork pets down Danny’s hair as he speaks, “as it always was to be”, leaning over to kiss Danny’s hair, whispering as to not break the silence to severally. The silence that their young companion had grown comfortable with and would surely be surrounded by for a long time to come, “and nothing needs nothing to truly flourish”.

Before fading away and leaving Danny alone to sleep on top of the very core of the planet he loved so very much. As even it too began to crumble away into nothing, having been the last remaining thing in the universe. Once sustained only by Danny’s will and ectoplasm. Now falling away finally, as his being accepts what he truly is. The nothing after something and the nothing before something. The one true constant of the universe. For nothing doesn’t need something to exist but something never exists without nothing. Leaving nothing as the guardian of the universe and the guardian of nothing to guard it all forever.

End.

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