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narisjournal-blog · 3 years

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These Nights

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Chuck x Reader

Fluff

Words: 1685

Notes: This was a request from honestly years ago and I’m such an asshole for only just posting this - I’m so so sorry. I haven’t included the name or request as it was quite personal. You know who you are :) This is of course a soft, fluffy, loving Chuck from before The Twist in Supernatural.

Thanks for reading!

***

Warm water cascaded over your hair and your shoulders, soaking you in a chaotic, relentless stream.

You had long finished your shower but still you stood unmoving in its grasp.

It was cold out there and dark. You held onto the reprieve a little longer.

You gave a heavy sigh.

‘I wish you would show your face,’ you said. ‘I wish... I need...’

you sighed again, shaking your head.

Standing up, you turned off the shower and stepped out.

You grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped it round you, shivering.

Once in your pyjamas you sat heavily on your bed and towelled at your hair. You gave up quickly and curled up on your bed, letting the tears flow. All you could see behind tightly closed lids was his face. Those big blue eyes, both gentle and stern at the same time. Chuck- the god you never knew you needed.

What would he think of you now? You so desperately wanted to see him, but not like this. He would be so disappointed, you thought.

‘I wish I could be what you want me to be,’ you choked out.

You always intended to pray before bed; to check in, pay respects and show you were thankful. Like in the movies, knelt by your bed, peaceful and worthy.

But it never worked out like that. The more you thought about what you wanted to say, the more overwhelmed you became and realised he would never have the time to sit and listen to all of that.

You began to shiver, partly from your damp hair but mostly from the despair that was taking hold of you.

You felt the mattress dip and you gasped. Then you felt a warm hand on your back and his calm took over you.

You looked up into big blue eyes, full of concern.

‘Do you really believe that?’ Said Chuck softly. ‘That I don’t have time for you?’

‘It’s not... I mean... I’m just a giant waste of your time. I’m sorry,’ you cringed.

‘Please,’ He said. ‘Don’t ever apologise for existing.’ Chuck gave your arm a squeeze. ‘And no, you’re not.’

You wiped your eyes and sat up.

‘You have far more important things and I’ve dragged you here.’

‘With all due respect, y/n, you don’t get to tell me how to spend my time.’

You couldn’t look in his eyes long. They broke you. There was so much love that you just couldn’t handle.

Your shame made you wish you were alone again.

‘But you don’t really want me to leave, do you?’ He stated softly.

You continued looking down at the bed.

After an abnormally long silence you gave the smallest shake of your head and sighed.

‘Is there anything you want to talk about?’ He said, hand resting on your back just below your damp hair.

You shrugged and stuttered. ‘I ... there’s...’

So much, you thought. But I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around it.

You knew he could hear you.

You know what, sometimes I’m just so tired of trying to figure this all out or having to figure out what I mean or where I belong. Sometimes I need you to just tell me! Sometimes I need...

‘Sometimes words are hard. I understand.’

You held your forehead in your hands, as if in some desperate attempt to hide your face. The man was infuriating. You wanted to scream at him, but all you could do was huff out a breath. He could feel you shaking by now.

‘But you know sometimes the best way to figure things out and understand your needs is to talk. Even if it seems stupid or redundant to you in this moment.’

‘You’re God,’ you almost whispered. ‘You know everything. It is redundant.’

This is why you were better alone. You drew your knees up to your chest and buried your face in your arms.

‘Look you can just go,’ you mumbled. ‘I’m sorry.’

He obviously knew what you were going through but was choosing not to help and you felt embarrassed you had even thought about bringing him here.

After a long silence you realised his hand had not moved from your back.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

You lifted your head and chanced a glance sideways at him. Your gaze was met by the brightest blue and a rush of warmth and love flooded you again. You looked away.

‘Ok, here’s a deal. You tell me about one thing that’s on your mind and then no more talking, I promise. Deal?’

You sighed heavily. You spoke as the words formed in your mind, slowly and broken up.

‘I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I feel like...’ you swallowed the lump In Your throat but it didn’t stop your voice from cracking.

‘I feel like I’m not ... not good enough at anything... like I just...’ your voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Take up space.’

Chuck rested his head against yours and pulled you into him closer with a sigh.

He kissed the top of your head and pulled back, brushing hair from your face. His eyes connected with yours and you felt a weight lift of your chest before he had even spoken.

‘Y/N, you matter so much to me. I created you and I have no regrets. I am proud of you every single day because of how strong you are.’

You looked away. ‘I’m not.’

‘Don’t argue with me,’ he said, his voice firm and authoritative now.

Your head whipped back up, surprised by his tone.

Piercing blue charged right through to your soul when he looked into your eyes now.

‘You are strong,’ he affirmed. ‘Strong doesn’t feel easy. You’re stronger than you know.’

Tears began to spill once more, but this time it felt like freedom. For that moment as he held you, you felt truly safe. Loved.

He continued. ‘It might not be clear now. You feel a little lost, I can see that. Trust me. I’ve got you, and you have so much purpose.’

Your shoulders shook as you cried, and he squeezed you once more. Without speaking, he helped you dry your hair, holding you when you shivered.

‘Can you make it warmer?’ you whispered, teeth chattering. He chuckled, pulling the bedcovers back and helping you into bed.

You lay down, curled up on your side and felt Chuck’s warmth move through you as he lay next to you.

You didn’t need to say anything else. You just lay there, allowing yourself to feel safe and relaxing fully for the first time in maybe years. Chuck stroked your hair and said softly, ‘You haven’t been sleeping too good.’

His hand rested on your forehead and you felt a peace radiate from his palm.

‘Goodnight,’ he whispered as you felt your eyelids close and the calm of sleep envelope you.

It was already light when you woke, which hadn’t happened for a very long time. Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. Your mind slowly uncoiled itself and you rolled onto your back to find the bedsheets beside you cold. He was gone. Of course he was gone.

Had he really meant all those things, or was he just trying to get some peace away from your spiralling thoughts?

You breathed in deeply, trying not to let your mind poison the calm you had felt with him and – was that cinnamon you smelled? You sat up. It was definitely cinnamon. Sweet cinnamon, and you could hear music. No, singing. You could hear singing.

Pulling a hoodie on, you stood up and made your way downstairs towards the sound.

And there in your kitchen, pulling something out of the oven and humming to himself, was Chuck.

He turned as you entered and beamed. ‘Right on time,’ he said.

‘Did you make cinnamon buns?’

‘I know how much you love them, but never have the energy to make them.’ He placed the tray down on the heat proof mat on the side. Mixing bowls lay strewn clumsily about the sink. Of all the thoughts you could have had in that moment, you honestly wondered if God was going to wash the dishes.

‘You’ve made a mess,’ you added, nodding in that direction.

Chuck raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.

‘I mean… Thank you,’ you garbled. ‘I- thank you. I love them.’ You surveyed the kitchen once again.

‘But couldn’t you just, you know…’ you pointed your finger, indicating using his powers.

‘Ah, that’s no fun,’ he shrugged.

Chuck leaned across to the cafetiere you had forgotten you had and pushed the top down.

‘I thought you’d have gone. I was expecting you to be gone when I woke up.’

Chuck smiled again. ‘I’m never really gone, you know,’ he said. He poured coffee into a mug and handed it to you, the heat sharp against your palm. ‘I’m always here. Next time you taste coffee, remember this moment.’

You sipped the strong liquid and savoured the taste.

‘Next time you lie in bed feeling alone, remember me there next to you.’

‘Next time I wash the dishes, I’ll remember when you used my kitchen,’ you said with a smirk.

‘Next time you taste a cinnamon bun’- you cut him off.

‘I get the idea, Chuck. So are those ready to eat, or what?’

He chuckled as he divided them onto plates and guided you over to the kitchen table.

And for the first time in forever, the day ahead was filled with hope and the promise that you were not doing this alone.

***

Tags:

(I hope I’ve got my list right, I may have missed a few changes people have requested - if I have I’m sorry. My list is a clusterfuck tbh.)

Everything list:

@afanofmanystuffs

@trashforwinchesters

@yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend

@natasha-cole

@greenappleeyes

@bisexualdolphinthings

@i-dont-understand-that-url

@misszombicorn

@lucerospn1detc

@robjackface

Rob/chuck list:

@tas898

@destielschild

@girl-next-door-writes

@winchestergirl-13

@a-banana-for-your-thoughts

@jelly-beans-and-gstrings

@kocswain

@gettingbywithalittlehelp96

@itsfunnierin-enochian

@rblstrash

@megthemewlingquim

@holamishamigos

#supernatural #chuck shurley #chuck x reader #God!Chuck x Reader #chuck shurley x reader #rob benedict #spn fic #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #god!chuck

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ahgaseda · 5 years

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the hot tea || chapter 02

⇥ synopsis : your best friend, Jackson, never fails to argue against your apathy toward love and romance, but his plan to confess his true feelings toward you is rudely interrupted when you start a blog chronicling your past relationships...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

The moans coming out of your mouth were loud and endless. It was all you could do to hold onto his shoulders as Jackson moved underneath you, his hips colliding into yours. You had expected riding him would be a steady rhythm since you controlled the pace. That was until Jackson sat up with you still in his lap, got a solid grip on your neck and the other on your thigh, and began pounding the shit out of you.

He had the propensity to be rough, this you knew. It was what you preferred in bed with him anyway. There was nothing like coming home after a long, tedious day and being shoved head first into an orgasm. Jackson was good at that, and the two of you fit together perfectly like pieces from the same puzzle.

You bucked your hips into his in an attempt to match his energy, but you didn’t get to do so for very long when release crashed into you. Jackson squeezed his grip on your body as you shuddered against him, one last wail of his name escaping your mouth. He slowed only slightly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched you come undone at his hands.

“Goddamn,” he said lowly, getting off to the sight of what he could do to you and how well you took what he had to give.

As you began to float down from your high, you felt his thrusts turn erratic and you flexed your thighs, tightening your innermost muscles to help him along. With another swear word or two, you felt him filling you up, his fingers sinking into your skin to the point of bruising. You gripped his forearms, stroking them soothingly as a shudder tore through him.

Jackson finally fell back to the bed and you rolled off of him, both of you gazing at the ceiling as the buzzing afterglow of climax ebbed away. After a pause, you were the first to break the silence.

“Well, fuck me,” you groaned.

“I just did.”

“Shut up,” you whined playfully, landing a kiss on the corner of his mouth before rolling to your stomach. Jackson needed a steady dose of affection or he would whine… a lot.

Smug, Jackson asked, “How was it then?”

You scoffed that he even had to ask and replied breathlessly, “So good.” As the words left your mouth, you let your head fall to the mattress, your hair covering your face like a veil. Exhales were still heavy as your heart began to settle again, matching the persistent ache between your thighs.

Though you couldn’t see, Jackson was enamored and kept his eyes fixated on you. Sweat was a glistening sheen over your skin and your nude, sated form on his bed was always a more than welcome sight. The steady movements of your body as you tried to catch your breath had his undivided attention.

Had any man ever left you as satisfied as he did? Jackson felt he knew the answer to that. As it were, your cries of his name had not stopped echoing in his head.

“Wanna go one more round?” Jackson flirted, leaning forward and trailing hurried kisses up your arm.

Giggling, you pushed your hair away from your face and met his eyes, recognizing the fire in his gaze as a mere look of hunger from him set your body into overdrive again. Swallowing to wet your dry throat, you whispered coyly, “Only one more?”

“Woman,” Jackson groaned with arousal, moving to prop himself over you on hands and knees. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“What a way to die,” you countered, remaining on your stomach as you felt his chest rub against your shoulders. A second or two later, his hips were fitting between your thighs, supported by your ass.

Jackson pushed your hair to one side with a swift movement of his hand, exposing your neck for his hot, wet kisses. Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you purred with pleasure underneath him, arching your back and pushing your ass to land squarely on his crotch.

You let him do as he pleased for the next few minutes. His hands roamed your skin and slid beneath you to cup your breasts as he became undeniably hard again. When he pushed himself into your slick folds once more, you sucked in a breath loudly with surprise and the first thrust had you gripping the sheets beneath you in tightly-clenched fists.

“Nice and tight,” Jackson growled darkly in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and steadily picking up the pace. He braced his free hand none too gently on your waist, anchoring you to the bed as his hips smacked into your ass.

“Jack… son,” you managed to choke out between deep and rough strokes of his cock. Damn it, he was thick. You were viscerally reminded of that every time he pushed back in and dragged back out. You lay there completely at his mercy, eyes rolling when he groaned your name and pinched your hip a little tighter.

“Where you going?” he hissed as you squirmed in his hold, trying to give him another angle as the threat of a second orgasm snared your attention. Jackson was quick to tangle his arms through yours, pinning you beneath his weight on the mattress. And once he had the leverage, his pace turned brutal.

On your lips his name was a chant, a prayer - anything that would urge him to never stop. No man had ever fucked you like Jackson did; gave you that perfect mixture of raw and hard, but reassuring and satisfying.

Though you had been repeating his name like a mantra, Jackson didn’t hesitate to get a grip on your jaw to turn your head, his lips on the corner of your mouth as he demanded, “Say my name.”

“Jackson,” you replied without missing a beat, as if it were your natural reflex to give him anything and everything he wanted in that moment if he would just keep hitting all the right spots inside you.

“Louder,” he added, driving his hips to finish you off.

His cock stroked your walls deeper and rougher until you saw stars and you complied, “Jackson!”

Not long after, you were back to the same position as before - limp on the bed as you focused on breathing normally again. Jackson lay at your side looking as haughty as ever, on his back with an arm draped over his eyes.

It was your turn to peek through your disheveled hair to watch the rise and fall of his chest. God damn, he was one fine ass specimen of a man. And he certainly knew what he was doing in the bedroom.

“One more?” you teased sheepishly.

Jackson made a sharp noise of disbelief and you giggled.

“Yeah, give me five minutes... or less,” your partner eventually mumbled.

Chuckling, you rolled over and reached for the nightstand, grabbing your phone and swiping across the screen. “Well, I officially made the blog,” you told your partner after reading your newest email.

Jackson sidled closer and peered with interest at your phone. “There’s nothing there.”

You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t posted anything yet. But I have acquired a URL,” you told him matter-of-factly.

Jackson brushed your disheveled hair out of the way with a gentle touch and asked curiously, “Who are you going to write about first?”

“I should probably start at the beginning,” you mused, then giggled mischievously. “But I’m tempted to go with a play-by-play of the amazing orgasms I just had.”

Jackson wiggled his eyebrows. “Be sure to go into detail about my huge...”

“Ego,” you interjected, without missing a beat. “Yeah, I’ll remember to add that.”

“Very funny,” Jackson deadpanned, landing his palm on your bare ass with a resounding crack.

You wiggled your hips in a taunt and smarted, “Don’t worry, Big Daddy. I will give credit where it’s due.”

“Damn right,” he huffed, grabbing the nearest blanket and proceeding to drape it over your bodies.

You glanced at the cover, feigning surprise, and questioned, “What happened to round three?”

“You plan on working tomorrow, right?” he quipped. “Wouldn’t you prefer being able to walk?”

With a snort, you agreed. “Good point.”

“Goodnight,” Jackson sang, flopping onto his side and yanking a nearby pillow under his head.

For a moment, you studied him, tempted to laugh. You expected that at any moment his eyes would flash open and he would tease you for staring at him. That was what happened the first time you spent the night with him.

Some nights you went home after having sex with Jackson. Other times you stayed. Jackson never pressured you either way, but you could tell by how insistently he spooned you that he preferred when you remained in his bed.

According to him, you made a damn fine pillow.

Returning your phone to the nightstand, you settled onto the mattress comfortably, smiling when Jackson - eyes still closed - pulled the blanket higher up your body to make sure you were warm.

chapter 01 ⇤ chapter 02 ⇥ chapter 03

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 smut #jackson wang smut #jackson smut #got7 imagines #mark tuan smut #jaebum smut #jinyoung smut #youngjae smut #bambam smut #yugyeom smut #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfic

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uniformbravo · 5 years

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me trying to make a gif part 2 (thrilling finale, buildup ver.)

ok good news and bad news: good news being withheld for Spoilers (not that it’s that hard to guess anyway lol), bad news explained first bc, chronologically, it is first

so yesterday i mentioned in the tags of that post that i had seen that krita has an animation feature so i was gonna try importing the frames into that and then exporting it as a gif. easier said than done, as it turns out

i started by opening the file i made yesterday with 62 layers as the frames and importing that into krita, which worked fine (i didn’t know you could actually open .psd files in clip stuido ((this typo is so fucking stupid it made me laugh so im leaving it)) and krita, so that’s pretty neat, i wonder if it works the other way around too) but i ran into problems when i tried to convert those layers into frames in an animation. because, like, the layout of the program has the layers displayed in one tab, and the animation timeline in another, like so:

(do u like how im using pictures now, i thought of that yesterday after i published the other post and realized hey, visual reference would probably make my plight a lot easier to understand!! so enjoy these educational diagrams from now on)

so my goal was to get the frames from the layers into the timeline, and i still don’t know if i did it right bc lbr krita is not very intuitive at all,,.,, i mean i watched a video tutorial abt how to animate in krita which was v helpful (it’s the one by jesse j james on yt fuckin SHout out) but it was about animating from scratch, not importing an animation you’ve already done elsewhere

so like, the way krita’s animation thing works, from what i could piece together as i bumbled my way around w/ it, is that each layer in the layers tab is a separate timeline in the,,, timeline tab

i want them all to be in the same timeline, not separate ones, and there’s no way to combine them in the timeline tab bc doing that just overwrites whatever layer you’re pasting it down onto, and also if you define the number of frames for that timeline (62 for this project) it just puts the single image of that layer for all of the frames instead of just one of them, so you’d have to go through and delete all the other frames you don’t want it to be, which would be such a fuckin pain

so i found a workaround, which is so tedious that it can’t be the right way to do it, but basically i started w/ layer 1 and defined 62 frames & then emptied frames 2-62, like this

(that blue box is the frame, btw, even tho it says 0, which actually kind of annoys me like why doesn’t it start the first frame on 1????)

from there i went up to layer two and selected that in the timeline, but for some reason the frame doesn’t show up automatically?

& i couldnt fuckin figure out how to make it into like, an Official Timeline Layer or whatever tf bc like, u see on layer 1 how theres that little lightbulb-looking icon on the right? that’s for turning on onion skin which only applies when you actually have frames with things drawn on them, so basically layer 2 in the layers tab has a drawing but in the timeline it doesn’t?

i didn’t find out what the actual reason for this is or how you’re /supposed/ to make the frame appear in the timeline, but what i did was right click on layer 2′s timeline & select “create blank frame” which magically made the frame i want appear

but it’s on top of the layer 1 frame, and i want it to be the frame after. also it’s still in a different timeline. this is the only easy fix in this whole damn process, u can literally just click & drag the frame from layer 2 to layer 1 and put it wherever u want on the timeline

and then u just delete layer 2 and that’s it, frame transferred!! then i just had to do that for 60 more layers and after [unspecified amount of time but it was a fuckin while ok] my timeline looked like this!

(the gaps near the end are held frames, to save me time so i didn’t have to copy a bunch of frames that were exactly the same)

krita is great because as far as i know ur animation can have an unlimited number of frames, at the risk of your own pc’s processing power, which is a definite upside to SOME expensive art programs i know (clip studio, i’m talking abt csp) and u can pick the frame rate too (cough photoshop elements 5.0 even tho u dont technically have an animation feature & it’s a miracle u can even make gifs at all) so once i finally got all the frames situated all nice and in order like on the same timeline, playing it was great! played at the right speed, looped perfectly, it was a dream come true right

well, time to export it as a gif

haha

hoooo oo o

so u got 2 options for exporting ur animation, u can either hit “export,” which lets u save it as different file types, one of which being gif, or you can hit “render,” which gives you gif and video options

well

i tried export first, bc that seemed like a good idea, but the “””gif””” it made was distinctly not a gif, despite its claim to be one?? this is what i got:

notice: 1. it is not moving, and 2. the black bars to the sides?? those are supposed to be transparent. they’re transparent in the file i made so why didn’t they register as transparent in the export, when gifs have transparency capabilities??

so That was some real live bullshit but i still had the “render” option, right? export was wrong, so rrender must be the correct option to go to that will produce the results i am wanting to see produced in front of me like a silver dinner platter with a correctly functioning gif under the lid, that’s what i want to see and “Render Animation...” is gonna Give me that silver platter righWRONG ok look at this shit rn ok Look

it says GIF it says it RIGHT THERE right??? right?????? then WHY

?????????????

and it also gave me all This bullshit

like did i ask?? did i fucking ask???? i already have all the individual frames why do i need even M o re i mfjgjgk

((rationally ok yea thats v useful for if ur making the animation in krita and want to export the frames to use elsewhere, but like uhhh 1. again, they’re not transparent & 2. i should have the option of saying i don’t want these??? bc *meme voice* i don’t want these)

so in the end i could find NO correct method of exporting animations as a gif in krita bc every ooption that says gif is fuckign LYING to ur face there are NO gifs in krita, aliens made the progam who looked at gifs and went “hmm i thikng this is how a gif works “ and just made jpegs instead but somehow got on the computers good side and got it to lie for them about it being a gif so thats why it says gif on the file still even tho its not a gif illimati confinr

so what is the conclusion to this? well i said there was good news too, and this is the portion where i divulge that sweet nectar (i type dthis 2 seconds ago and @ me what the fuck)

so after wasting a good 2 hours trying to figure out krita i gave up and watched some good old [youtuber name redacted bc what if it shows up in search & ppl see this dumbass post in there but it rhymes with fjackfsepticfeye] to relax into accepting my fate that i’ll never be able to upload my animations to tungle except in poor quality loopless video form, making me into a laughing stock on my own art blog, but THEN i had a stroke of genius, in my Brain

so if u read yesterday’s post u might remember that flipnote studio, the animation program i use on my ds, to animate, has the option to export files as gifs, both animated and sequential (meaning either as one fully animated gif or each individual frame separately), which is super convenient, but as i mentioned yesterday, any time i tried to open the folder with those files on my laptop, it crashed immediately

WELL today i thought “hey, how about instead of opening the folder in the sd card when it’s plugged in, how about i copy that folder from the sd card to my flash drive, and try to open it there, in case it’s the card’s hardware that’s causing the problem, not corrupted files”

so i tried that and it FUCKING WORKED THANK GOD GLORY HALLELUJAH

so now instead of spedning A THOUSAND YEARS trying and failing to force art programs to bend to my will i can just export the animations straight from my ds and drag them onto my computer Just As God Intended oh GOD im so fucking happy

here’s the gif in the end, i’m gonna post it to my art blog too but this is the Green Version bc i animate in green bc of some default settings in flipnote that i got used to, plus it makes me feel like i’m just sketching so nothing really has to be finalized so i’m comfortable while i work, and also it’s just nice ok it’s a Nice Green

(there’s a few frames at the end that are like the extra scraps from while i was working dw i got rid of those in the final version that i’m posting to my art blog later. also i added my blog url to that one too it’s aaaaaall good)

the only downside to this method is that i can’t change the canvas size to be 540px wide to fit with tumbrl s image dimensions but whatever i can just post them in a text post and fix the html to display it at its original size instead of the resizing bullshit tmurbl pulls constantly ugh. anyway it works great on desktop but it’s inevitably gonna look like shit on mobile no matter what i do *Big Ass Shrug*

anyway thats the end of my success story uhh i can’t make the like comment & subscribe joke again bc i already did that in the last post so like bye i guess thanks 4 watchign & have a great day i’ll see u in my next fvideo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYob4uDjEKI&t=0s

(^that’s my outro music)

#this started out so boring like a tutorial (but made by someone who doesn't know what the fuck theyre talking abt)#& then things derail Real Quick #that's why this is the ''buildup ver.''#retag later #talkin bout stuff #today posts #rieley's wips #(me: i can't mention this youtuber by name in case my post shows up in search #me: *adds a link to the post rendering that effort for naught*#me: *leaves it anyway bc it's funny*)#pls listen to the outro musi c it's rly good & tunmgmldnr wouldnt let me embed the video & idk how to do it thru html & too lazy to look it #up :(

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wardati · 6 years

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FOLLOWERS I’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER

TAGGED BY: NO ONE [HI KaI!]

TAGGING: ANY AND EVERYONE

Name/Nickname: E.

Gender: THE EVIL HAS BEEN ELIMINATED

Star Sign: taurus.

Height: 5′6/5′7

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Favourite Animal: Pitbulls// I have a fondness for sea creatures

Hours of Sleep: 3/4 -15/4-7/1.8

Dogs or Cats: bof.

Number of Blankets: one

Dream Trip: Greece or back home..

Dream Job: stop asking me questions idk the answer to

Time: 5:48.

Birthday: May 16th.

Favorite Bands: The Strokes, Shinee,Sade,Arctic Monkeys [miles + alex being hella bi]

Favorite Solo Artist: Beyonce, KYUNGSO [D.O] -IM SPEAKING IT INTO EXISTENCE

Song stuck In My Head: Too Much Too Late -Sabrina Claudio ??

Last Movie I Watched: Much Ado About Nothing ?

Last Show I watched: I started Naruto Shippuden ;_;

When did I create my Blog: I don’t even remember

I post/reblog: idek, fake shit,

Last thing I Googled: Brawlhalla

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Do I get Asks: from ppl i know mostly thank gawd

Why I chose My URL: its cute

Following: THE BEST MCFUCKIN PEOPLE IN THE WORLD

Followers: THE BEST MCFUCKIN PEOPLE IN THE WORLD

Lucky number: dont really have one

Favorite Instrument: that geetar, a good piece on that pEEann oh

What am I wearing: don’t judge- this pretty tie-dye loose ass dress my aunt randomly gave me to sleep in

Nationality: Egyption

Favorite Song: RN- Dark Skinned Women-GoldLink// Body Talk-Majid Jordan// JOGA-BJORK

Last Book I Read: Finished- Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth-Warsan Shire

Top Three Fictional Universes I’d Like to Join: the one where me and shownu of Monsta X are very close friends, .Naruto Verse without K*shimoto lurking above the skies taking away the gay shit. And Saga Universe- tho…. lemme not.

#mun stuff #i'm about to listen to utopia when my energy is ready to open up just a little bit #i still feel like im in a whirl wind of a mess #kai inspired me #bc she's the perrf height #im going to have to stop doing these out of boredom

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mabel-but-slytherin · 7 years

Text

Connection (6 part 1/?)

I’m late. Super late. So late most of you probably don’t know/remember this fic exists. I’m super sorry and I’ll leave it at that for here because tumblr format sucks for ANs. The total chapter clocked in at well over 10k words so I cut it in half and part two will be posted next week. It’s done and edited and I’m sicced for it just didn’t want to overwhelm people and then potentially disappear again.

Tagging the people I know were super active in following this fic here (if you want to be added to future chapters let me know!): @scrollingdown @sapphireswimming @spookytiffany @seulgi008 (your url’s changed I believe multiple times since the last update and that makes me feel even guiltier)

Enjoy! On ffn and ao3.

Danny packed up his ghost gear in less than a minute.

Soon three claws cut into the air, cutting a green tear between this realm and the next, and then criss-crossed over itself to create a shortcut that the psychic could fit through. Danny sent a grateful smile and a short thanks in Esperanto to Wulf as he passed towards it, gesturing for the ghost (who happened to be named Nathaniel, not nearly as ironic as Nick would've been but close enough that Danny had to stifle giggles) to go first.

After all, Nathaniel already looked like he was starting to fade away without his haunt.

Bobby was waiting on the edge of and into the rift itself, his grizzled face somehow not looking nearly as uncomfortable or out of place as it should leaning on such an unnatural tear between two worlds like it was any old truck or other mortal form of transportation. He reached out a semi-tangible hand and rested it on the teen's shoulder.

"Don't let those idjits get in any more trouble than they need to." Danny gulped and nodded as he understood the weight the statement carried as both an apology and permission rolled into one.

"I won't. And I trust you to be there to pull me out if I do?" Danny pulled his own statement into a question with a taunting smirk, knowing full well the hunter would see its full reciprocation. Apology and forgiveness, for both this and the Leviathan incident, with maybe a hint of permission should the need arise again.

And the grizzled dead face showed it, crinkling with a passion that made Danny oddly think of a grandfather figure he'd never really had. "Bah!" Bobby laughed, "I'm more worried about you getting yourself killed than them. This isn't their first rodeo, kid."

"And you're acting like it's mine? You know I've been dealing with this stuff for a while before meeting you Bobby. Besides, I've hung around enough with death to know a thing or two about surviving it." The teen's laugh stretched to hide a grimace of fear as he focused ahead, leaving Bobby muttering under his breath with concern about N-whatever-that-ghost-who-chased-the-kid-down-here's-name-is as Danny ventured through to the other side.

The kid's heroism, duty, and innocence was almost enough to make Bobby regret that the Winchesters' plan to keep Danny away from this hunt worked out this way instead. Danny deserved to be protected, even if he and his boys did it for entirely different intentions. After all, none of the three young men he looked after now would likely approve of his end goals, even the ghost whisperer who had put the most pieces together.

But that wouldn't stop him. Nothing would. That's why they call it an obsession.

The house Danny stepped out of Wulf's portal into was cold and it was dull.

It wasn't cold as in haunted house cold, or dull as in normal house dull, but it had a drop in temperature compared to the world before passing within its walls and a stark stillness as if some curator had decided that the Victorian home needed to be perfectly preserved. Contrasting that was an atmosphere that suggested that someone had poured a lot of energy into livening the place up, not seeming to realize that the house itself had decreed that nothing lively or even alive should grace the place again.

Apparently it also housed a resident intent on upholding that.

Nearly-Headless-and-everything-else-less-because-he-was-currently-missing Nathaniel was nowhere to be seen, and Danny couldn't help but worry as he turned around to look for his guide. On one hand, the ghost clearly would need to recuperate after two days without the spectral energy of his haunt, and it was all too likely the man was checking in on the family he chased after Danny to protect. But the psychic couldn't help but worry that something happened to the ghost he would need to consult about whatever intrusion made this haunting turn violent, and he couldn't crush the guilt that in the small time he spent talking to Bobby the invader or the Winchesters could've gotten him.

The repeating pound of footsteps creaking on old wood coming from what sounded like just outside the house echoed that thought, and the obvious humanity of the sound informing Danny that the Winchesters indeed must already be here.

Danny thought about how terrible his luck was, but quickly realized it would be a miraculous stroke given his luck to expect anything better.

Then the teen realized he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking out towards the direction the footsteps were coming from, and he quickly bolted to hug the wall before retreating in the opposite direction.

Luckily years of companionship with the dead, as well as a lifetime of trying to sneak past unwanted confrontations with bullies or his parents, gave Danny the advantage of stealth in this mission.

Danny found himself passing into the dining room, and sticking his head around the corner he could see that he was across a main hallway from the living room, with the kitchen covering the room between his end of the hallway and the front door where the Winchesters could be heard picking at the lock. Right by the entrance was a stairway to the second floor, which given the decent size of the downstairs entertaining areas would probably contain a handful of bedrooms and maybe an office, but not much else. If there was indeed a family of ghosts living here, the haunt most likely is centered upstairs.

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply in his core to better sense the energy of the house, Danny confirmed that whatever background energy was coming from the spirits, it permeated the entire building, but the vast majority was on the upper floor.

The continuing wiggling of the front lock and the direct line of sight from the front door to the stairwell made it obvious to Danny he couldn't risk dashing upstairs without being spotted. The Winchesters weren't idiots or amateurs at lock-picking and would likely finish any second. Also Danny noted with a slight frown that he hadn't thought to change out of his favorite outfit of t-shirt and jeans. On one hand at least he wasn't barging in to conflict negotiation in his pajamas, but on the other hand he'd stick out like a sore thumb against the Victorian décor if he tried to hide in the corner of Sam or Dean's eye.

Hearing the sound of rattling increase drastically as the men (Danny could easily envision it as Dean picking the lock while Sam held the duffle bags) moved on from twisting the lock to tugging at the rusted hinges, Danny dashed his way into a dark corner of the linen closet off the dining room, keeping the door open and hoping he wasn't spotted. He'd wait until he could make a clean sneak towards the stairs.

He didn't think the Winchesters would appreciate the mysterious kid they locked in a hotel room two days ago beating them to an undisclosed location that must be at least hundreds of miles away.

"Finally! With a door like that this place must've been condemned for over a century!" Dean's relieved voice carried a booming echo compared to the dead silence of the house only moments before.

The silence carried even the sound of Sam lifting the gun bags off the doorstep as he followed his brother in. "I told you before Dean, town records show this house has had consistent residents up until a couple years ago."

"-when all the families moving in reported this place going from uptown to Halloween town, I got it." Dean finished, looking around the main hallway and the footsteps turning towards the living room.

Danny let out a sigh: all that he needed now was for Sam to follow his brother and Danny would be free to hug the walls of the kitchen across the hall until he could make a break for the stairs.

"Hey, Sammy. You notice something weird here?" He heard Dean call out, followed by a buzz and whine Danny quickly placed as the homemade EMF/Walkman he had seen Dean fiddle with in the motel room before.

It sounded different from the clearly non-responsive it was the night Danny first saw it (which had seemed to almost disappoint Dean, who was clearly trying and failing to subtly wave it around Danny), and this time the teen feared they might take that to go straight upstairs and block him from meeting up with Nathaniel before the Winchesters might get to the ghosts.

Sam must've had similar thoughts regarding the EMF as Danny could practically hear the raised eyebrow. "You mean besides the spectral energy readings coming from almost everywhere?"

"I'm not talking about what spooky stuff we're getting, Sammy, I'm talking about what spooky stuff we're missing." Dean paused, and there was clearly the gap where Sam must've sent him some look or a shrug. "If this place is haunted enough to get condemned and has been sitting here empty for over two years, then why isn't there a buildup of dust?"

Sam's steps had a hint of uncertainty as he followed his brother into the living room. Danny took it as his cue to slip out of the linen closet and back up against the wall between the dining room and kitchen. "Someone's been cleaning."

"Something's been cleaning. We both know that door hasn't been opened in at least a year and there's no back door in the floor plans." Dean cut in. "And I don't know about you, but I don't think we've ever seen a ghost that keeps house before."

"Are you starting to think that this might be a 'maybe Danny has a point' kind of thing?" The phrase made Danny's entire posture go rigid. There was a clear dash of skepticism in Sam's tone when he said it, but the teen could hear that it was a word for word quote that had somehow entered the Winchesters' terminology. What did it mean if Sam and Dean clearly still believed he was wrong about ghosts being peaceful, but were willing enough to debate the idea that they had clearly discussed it out of his earshot, and would look and consider potential evidence in his favor?

"I'm starting to think that someone still died here and this Casper's gonna keep on killing people who live here unless we stop it. If anything, weird ghostly habits are a sign that the kind of ghost Danny's convinced are safe might be plotting to kill people, or worse: using him to do it."

Sam's voice went soft at the anger in Dean's, and Danny found himself so enraptured in his eavesdropping that the ghosts upstairs were all but forgotten. "You're worried about Bobby."

"Of course I'm worried about Bobby."

The emphasis that it was their mentor they cared about rather than him only made the pit of ice growing in Danny's chest go deeper as Dean continued.

"You know he was never exactly stable since he… since he died, but that thing he did to the Leviathan with Danny- to Danny, that was something else."

"You think it was Bobby who did that." Sam's sentence hung somewhere in the middle ground between a statement and a question, between doubt and incredulity. On one hand, the younger brother thought that Dean was wrong. On the other hand, he had no clue what to think.

Danny shook at how strangely perceptive his ability to read people, especially these two, had gotten. He tried to laugh it off as either a lifetime with Jazz or a weird tick from his powers, but neither felt right.

"I think Bobby shouldn't have been able to do that," Dean started slowly. "And I also think Bobby shouldn't have been able to come back again, even if only the kid can see him. But most of all, I think the kid couldn't have possibly done that on his own. You were driving when he woke up in the Impala afterwards, Sammy. You heard me need to tell him what happened. He… there was nothing there at all Sam, and then he started looking so scared. The kid had no clue."

Danny felt shame itch on the back of his neck as he recalled that at least half of that fear was of Dean, but the hunter didn't seem to know that.

Just as the moment of calm settled between the siblings a loud crash came from the upper floor.

"We can have another chick flick moment later," Dean said with a scoff. "Let's take care of fugly first."

Less than a second later he and Sam were bounding up the staircase after the noise, with the few heavy poundings betraying that the giants were taking the old wood stairs several steps at a time.

Danny looked up at the ceiling above him as he quietly paced his way through the kitchen. Regardless of the number of ghosts here, or how happy they were to have Nathaniel home, there wasn't any reason for something that could turn insubstantial to make a sound like that. Which meant that whatever malicious ghost had taken up resident decided to try to scare the humans who had been obviously settling in for a long chat downstairs out of the house.

But then Nathaniel's words came back to Danny and he remembered that the ghosts were all fully aware that the next visitors to their haunt would be hunters, even if they weren't familiar with the Winchesters themselves. For a ghost to be so illogical to make it obvious they were haunting the place in front of hunters who wouldn't be scared that easily, but at it same time it also wasn't so out of touch to immediately Rage as soon as trespassers entered the property. Danny couldn't think of a reasonable explanation based on his experiences, and that in itself was disturbing.

Danny had the sudden feeling that this might not be as simple as just talking down a ghost stubborn enough to ignore his hauntmates warnings for years.

Most worrying, either the intruding ghost was variable enough to need minutes to flicker into reality when disturbed but simultaneously carry substantial tangibility in the real world, or it wanted to lure Sam and Dean upstairs.

Danny waited until the footsteps were at least a room away on the upper floor before he turned the final corner from the kitchen into the main hallway and saw the stairs were clear. He was just about to start making a silent way up and testing how much weight he could balance on the first step without creaking when a blurry figure floated out of one of the rooms upstairs and made its way down towards him.

"Ah, young Daniel! I'm glad to see you're still here to help us out!" Danny urgently raised his finger to his lips to shush the ghost as it spoke in a conversational tone, desperately gesturing towards the upstairs where the Winchesters were clearly still investigating supernatural activity.

"Yes, sorry." Nathaniel stayed parked in the air above the teen and Danny internally sighed at how clueless the dead man was if he thought they could stay and have a chat in the open. Realizing going upstairs would be fruitless now that he found his guide, the psychic turned back towards the kitchen, before having a second thought and realizing the colonial family who clearly still acted as if they lived here in whatever age they were alive in would fuss less if they 'entertained a guest' in the living room.

Just as he was about to turn another figure materialized a foot in front of him. The slight tingle of energy and years of practice pretending to be normal quashed the instinct to jump, and the female ghost looked at him curiously.

"You were right, Nathaniel, he does appear to have instincts beyond merely the Sight." The spirit, clearly Nathaniel's wife and believing Danny had sensed her arrival to this plane, seemed pleased at the assessment and followed daintily behind. Danny bit in the instinctual response to point out that his 'sensing' her was entirely a coincidence.

The teen also noted her feet soundlessly touched the floor with each step she took, which only made it clearer that whatever was upstairs was an anomaly in the household.

"I apologize for the mess everything is right now, I've been worried sick the whole time dear Nathaniel's been away and haven't had the chance to clean. And I hope you don't mind the children," two small, translucent faces watched from the corner of the living room as they entered. "Normally I would have them play upstairs when we have guests over, but I fear leaving them alone in the company of either unwanted danger invading our house.

"Tea?" The ghost mother vanished and reappeared back by the living room entrance, and Danny could hear the rattling of porcelain in the kitchen as Nathaniel floated to get it. "Also, don't mind my husband, he normally can vanish as well but he's been feeling ill ever since he returned. I've never seen it before…"

"-It's ghost sickness." Danny cut in, glad that there was at least something he could say that may hopefully get the conversation serious and on track. He didn't want to be rude but it really wasn't the time for tea. "It's from not being in his haunt-" Danny realized tact might work better, "-the house for so long. Some time here and he'll recover.

"And really I'm good on the tea right now." Danny threw in as an afterthought, seeing the question build on her face. The rattling stopped and Nathaniel floated in.

"Oh, no trouble then. Thank you for the reassurance, Mr… now what is your last name Mr. Daniel?"

Danny flinched a bit at the name again and thought of how to avoid giving out his last name. It was a habit to avoid being identified as a Fenton, and if word about him was already spreading through Ghost Zone gossip here he didn't want to make it worse. "My first name's fine, and please call me Danny." He added with a grimace. Hearing someone, especially so formal, call him by his full name still sent tingles down his spine. Seeing her prim face frown made him scratch the back of his neck, only making the frown deeper.

Danny had never been grateful before for the sound of a destructive ghost attack upstairs. "And I really think I should be getting on to whatever trouble your new neighbor has been making upstairs. Your husband says he's been a problem ever since he moved in?"

"Yes!" The mother cried, and Danny couldn't help but notice the ghost children were shivering a bit in the corner. "He has no manners, or sociability, and is a makes a complete mess every time he-!"

Nathaniel put his intangible hand on his wife's shoulder to cut off her exasperated rant. "Darling, that isn't exactly what young Danny has come here to hear. Now that I can hold a conversation without fading out again I can finally tell you what I should have before you came. It started only a few weeks after tragedy struck the family that was living here, and all of us could feel the energy manifesting from the Ghost Zone the entire time in-between. You see, we had always been companionable but separate from the humans that lived in our house, until…"

Sam could hear the whine of the EMF meter growing louder with each step as he followed Dean upstairs. His brother pivoted at each door at the start of the hallway and heard its beeps grow stronger as he turned to the right, then the lights go straight off the charts as he turned to the left. With only a quick glance into the empty child's bedroom Dean first looked into, Sam followed his brother into the guest bedroom on the other side of the hall.

The room somehow seemed even darker and drearier than the rest of the house, with now noticeable amounts of dust caking the minimal furniture and floor minus an empty space by the window. While the rest of the house had a feeling that could possibly pass as a museum or place the Winchesters might break in to stay the night, this room screamed the haunted house the hunters were used to.

Dean slowly stepped forward towards the empty patch by the window, and stopped a few feet away to look outside. Sam followed dutifully behind to see the clear view of the front yard and the Impala parked thirty feet in the distance.

"So… master of the house decided to creepily watch into the distance as we pulled in. Don't you love it when the fuglies decide to play up the traditional monster movie roles?"

Sam smirked. "You miss that Dracula hunt, don't you?"

Dean turned his head and Sam saw in his eyes the joy that made hunting with his brother worth it. "You know I miss any hunt where we get to save the day and get the girl. Not only was she hot, she was a bartender! The chicks on this job suck."

"Still upset about the waitress?" The dinner they stopped for dinner had a wait staff well over seventy.

"All I'm saying is that there was a Hooters right next door!"

There was another crash a few feet away, but no visible signs of anything on the ghosts' part. Looking around the empty room, most possessions still in boxes, Sam couldn't find anything that stood out as being particularly tied to the haunt besides this empty patch of dust.

"So what do you think?" He turned to ask his older brother. "An entire family died here in the early 1800s, nothing for almost two centuries and then there was a suicide here about three years ago. The first family's burial records were lost in a town fire in 1937 and the most recent death had the body cremated. No remaining body parts, research didn't point out any possible mementos and I haven't seen anything while looking around that might be it. Should we start digging through the boxes here?"

Dean continued to circle the room, the EMF meter staying at a constant full blast but no other sign of the ghost permeating the air. The older Winchester looked over the piles of boxes and wiped the dust off the side of one. A shipping label was scotch taped to the side, any sign of the address smeared by a rough scribble of Sharpie marker.

Examining two other boxes revealed the same, the black lines on each more frantic than before. Scuffing the dust off the floor revealed that one stroke went so wild it stained the hardwood.

Dean stood and turned to his brother. "Nah, somehow I don't think we'll find it in here."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "This is clearly the center of the haunt. Come on, there might be a hair or a fingernail or something in this mess."

Dean shook his head. "Even if that's the case, doubt we'd find it before the spook gets angry again. Besides, you said suicide. Didn't want to be in this world when he died, doubt something that small would hold him on."

Dean sent him a cocky smirk, and Sam felt his face narrow. He hated when Dean did that during a serious situation. "Besides, let's get to the bottom of this. Why'd he suddenly off himself with his whole life packed up? It's a few years ago, bad economy, clearly living in parents' house." Dean gestured around to the room. "Wanted to get out and suddenly couldn't. Offing himself stops a ghost from coming back, but anger like that can lead to something else."

Sam's eyes widened as it came to him. Neither brother liked thinking about the last similar case they took. "You think we're dealing with a-"

Dean nodded. "Let's get started on the blessing bags, Don't really feel like sticking around here longer than we have to."

Hearing Nathaniel speak of the ghost he was dealing with didn't inspire confidence in Danny. The fact that they knew its background helped, but the sad angry boy who lived in this house for his whole life, not even something its original residents could claim, probably wouldn't take kindly to a stranger trying to evict him.

Danny reached into his backpack and pulled out the thermos and Fenton Peeler to have on him. Even though he hated walking into what could be a peaceful confrontation armed, it would be helpful to have defenses at the ready and neither device looked outright like a weapon.

Looking up at the confused faces of the ghosts sitting around the living room, Danny tried to muster what he hoped would be a confident smile.

"I think it's best if you wait downstairs or vanish for now. Nathaniel still needs to recover and there are hunters in the house."

"You're so young." The woman pointed out with a frown. "Will you be alright?"

Nathaniel moved his hand from his wife's shoulder to comfort her back through the chair. "You've seen his abilities, dear. He's the best chance we've got."

"Thanks." Danny fought the urge to rub his neck and felt even more uncomfortable. "And you know, I've gotta say I'm surprised you're all using acronyms and stuff. Thought you'd be more stuffy."

The ghost let back his head and laughed. "Just because we're dead doesn't mean we're frozen in time! We pick up all that newfangled slang the humans who live here use." Another bout of creaky footsteps started upstairs, making Danny realize the Winchesters had paused for a while.

The ghost noticed as well, and sent Danny a final nod. "Just don't forget what those hunters never seem to realize. Even though he no longer acts it, the young man up there was once human too."

Flashes of the times the Winchesters sobered after hunts suddenly flashed through Danny's mind. Sam's face after chasing stragglers from a pack of werewolves and the desperation in Dean's voice when he shifted between anger, confusion, and hope in describing Bobby's possession.

"Somehow," Danny found himself saying, "I think that deep down they know."

In just the twenty seconds it took for Danny to figure out the right pressure to put on the stairs to silently climb them the upstairs went from dead quiet to a battleground. He could hear shotgun shells being unloaded in the room on the left (hollow, with the multiple beats of impact betraying that it was rock salt rather than iron or silver) yet the teen also noted that the brothers must've split up and taken both sides of the upper floor when he heard a crash down the hall to the left and a grunt from the right.

Why the Winchesters couldn't be smart or make this easy, Danny sighed, before freezing as he realized one ghost shouldn't be able to put up a fight on two fronts.

Danny didn't want to go either way and risk meeting a Winchester, but standing like an idiot in the center and by the only exit clearly wouldn't work, so he needed to pick a side fast. More scuffling to the right and a haunting silence to the left made up his mind and Danny quickly darted into a dusty bedroom.

Wow, it was sad when it was just as much the unnaturalness stillness of the quiet that drew Danny as the potential lack of a murderous hunter.

The teen looked about the floor and squinted down at the clearly stolen motel towel laid out in the center of the room with a smattering of herbs, dusts, and other small objects. Investigating closer, Danny almost reached out until he noticed red flower petals and crossroad dirt and froze out of habit. He tilted his head before turning it quickly at the feeling of something materializing behind him.

"Why would those idjits be making hex bags now of all times?" Bobby Singer fiddled with his trucker hat as his eyes skillfully scanned over the ingredients laid out before them, clearly picking out more than Danny could.

"Bobby, what are you doing here?" More sounds of a fight beyond drew both of their attention, and Danny had to reach out to snag the ghosts' wrist before he could be drawn towards the Winchesters. "And I'd rather you not blow my cover after being the one to bust me over here."

Luckily the comment didn't make Bobby angry as he turned back. "I'm keeping an eye on you. There really isn't that much better to do in the afterlife you idjit, and if you haven't noticed at least one of us has gotta stick around to get your butt out of here when you're done." A second later and Wulf was standing on Danny's other side.

The psychic felt himself raising an eyebrow. "And you couldn't have just stayed visible or at least in my sight this whole time… why?"

"Figured you'd focus better having this be a solo thing. That and your friend's not really the most comforting figure to approach the ghost wife and kids, or whatever nonviolent approach you wanted to take."

Wulf was still hunched over in his old torn prison uniform and sniffing the spectral energy in the room.

"Point taken."

Watching the Esperanto speaking ghost veer around the hex bag workshop reminded Danny of what prompted his allies to materialize anyway. "So what exactly are they doing with all this?"

Bobby stared at it for a second before going still mid-float and letting out a curse. "Put those toys back in your bag and get the hell back out of here. Those boys clearly didn't do their homework and are just now figuring this out." He took off his cap to let his fingers trail through thinning hair. "Idjits."

Danny crossed his arms. "Isn't that exactly when I'm supposed to be helping them out?"

Bobby turned around and glared at him. "Yeah, when you're dealing with a ghost ya moron! Go in there trying to talk it down and you'll just get yourself killed!"

"Bobby, I'm not stupid. There's spectral energy all over here, Nathaniel said he felt the Zone manifesting in this room for weeks and I'm pretty sure I can tell when I'm standing less than twenty feet from a Raging ghost even with all of you here!"

"And there's more out there than just your typical ghost, boy! You're not just gonna run in there and try to suck up a pissed-off poltergeist!" Bobby's urgency travelled like a wave of energy that pushed against Danny's sixth sense, and the teen forced himself to breath and calm down before the danger pushed Bobby too far again. Another raging ghost in a nearby vicinity wasn't going to help, and Wulf growling dangerously at the unintelligible to him threat near his human friend reminded Danny that a fight between friends here and now wouldn't end well for anyone.

Luckily Danny didn't even need to talk Bobby down. Unluckily the distraction came in the form of a particularly loud crash from across the hall as the ghost- no, poltergeist - appeared to have grown even stronger with the extra malevolence.

Bounded footsteps creaked down the stairs less than a second after and Danny startled at the thought of the Winchesters separating again now of all times.

"Those hex bags that they've made should be able to banish any hold of ectoplasmic energy over the house," Bobby provided. "But in order for them to work they have to place four of them in the wall on each extreme of the house in the cardinal directions on each floor. Until that the poltergeist's just gonna keep getting angrier."

"What can we do?" Danny's posture set in a determined stance he subconsciously took whenever he felt heroic. The thought of him independently facing down the world and the Winchesters on his own reminded Bobby of that first night they met in the graveyard following the kid's grief.

Somehow he found himself stuck guiding teens who were all too good at acting the soldier.

"Checking on whichever idjit's getting himself tossed around up here's probably best. The poltergeist wouldn't be guarding this territory if the hex bag was placed and knowing Sam and Dean either of them'd be too focused on the poltergeist to see you if you're quiet."

Danny nodded quickly and darted into the shadows of the hallway before poking his head around the corner and carrying on. Somehow the human kid managed to make less noise than the ghosts as they faded out of the visible plane and followed behind him.

#connection verse #superphantom #supernatural #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam winchester #dean winchester #bobby singer #wulf #hope it was worth the weight #nice to finally get to update this fic #and use my fic tag again #akg fic

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