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theserpentsadvocate · 7 months

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I am drowning in half-planned fic right now because I made the mistake of rewatching Veronica Mars (and seeing the new season) and then there was very very little of the stuff I wanted to make me feel better, so I am now writing it myself all at once??? (Yes, juggling like six AUs at once is a bad idea, no I did not do it on purpose.) And I know better than to post unfinished stuff, so give me some feedback, guys:

What are people interested in?

(Relevant information: I am here for Weevil, and I am decidedly not here for Logan. Also, these are mostly not the actual titles, I just don’t have one yet.)

Finish the short ones first!

*The long, sad, bittersweet Weevil/Jade reunion, where she runs into trouble post S4 and has no one else to call. (Pros: As a (long) oneshot, will probably be finished in the next millennium! I’ve also not only started it but made some decent progress. Has a likely sequel which is… maaaybe less sad. Kind of. Jade POV, which is, uh, scarce. Cons: Sequel is less well-planned-out and kind of self-indulgent, this is a ship that like two people are on. Also it’s sad.)

*Five Children Veronica Mars Never Had (Pros: Short enough it might get finished before the heat-death of the universe! I’ve also already started it. Takes a bit of a turn from the typical children-as-a-ship-exploration/validation these things often have (most of these children are not biologically Veronica’s). Novel canon is relevant! Some very solid V/W friendship in at least one. Cons: Tremendously, horrifically depressing; I literally just keep killing people to make the premise work. Very little shipping.)

*The Jade/Eli Chronicles (Pros: Related oneshots so, again, will probably be finished in a semi-reasonable time. Fluffy if you block S4 from your memory. Jade gets, like, lines. Cons: Not a ton of substance, only happy if you block S4 from your memory, this is a ship that two people are on.)

*Five (Or Some Number) Worlds Veronica Didn’t Grow Up In (Pros: Fun crossovers/fusions! All the chapters will be more standalone, so I might even post it serially. A BtVS where Veronica isn’t the Slayer (Lilly was). Animorphs!!! Cons: Fusions are automatically disinteresting if you don’t know the other canon. Some of them are not super well-developed yet. Also, how do you make Veronica Mars more upsetting? Cross it with Animorphs!)

I want longfic, because the literal problem is not enough V/W longfic!

*Veronica Mars, Intrepid Reporter

A Lilly lives AU where canon splits whenever Lilly (doesn’t) begin her affair with Aaron. Veronica copes with Duncan’s sudden cold shoulder by becoming an investigative high school journalist.

Pros: This is my first-concieved AU, and maybe the project I’m most proud of? (Pending completion.) Heavy focus on the death of Marisol Reyes. Features a not-irredeemably-awful high school experience for Veronica. Lilly is still flawed as per canon but she’s not evil and she loves her brother and her friends. Eventual (very eventual) Veronica/Weevil. Meg lives. Lots of Keith and Veronica’s relationship. Probably the most optimistic of all my AUs.

Cons: Spans a long time and will probably be gigantic (these things always get bigger once I’m writing them), so will take approximately forever to finish. Planned out to some extent but not started yet. Somewhat critical take on Logan (I almost put that in the ‘pros’ column but I know how the fandom is about him).

*The Lawsuit Story

An AU where Weevil doesn’t settle as soon as in canon (or maybe Lamb just panics quicker), and an attempted attack on him kills Jade instead.

Pros: Hello to the novel canon! This is probably my favourite of all the universes I’m messing around with. The Weevil/Veronica friendship is so strong with this one that I am legitimately conflicted over whether to actually even have them get together. Valentina has an extremely strong presence and I love her. It's pretty charitable to Logan, considering I wrote it. Carmen makes a few appearances. Celeste Kane goes down.

Cons: This was originally just part of ‘Five Children…’ so the long version probably won’t be written until that’s finished. May or may not contain Weevil/Veronica, but if it does, it is a loooong wait. Does contain LoVe.

*High School Revenge Story

Another Lilly lives AU, where Lilly definitely IS having an affair with Aaron. And also Weevil, but not anymore. And also, Veronica’s (post-Troy) boyfriend. Anyway, Veronica finds out about the last point and decides to get revenge/prove she’s not some virginal innocent sidekick by hooking up with Lilly’s sidepiece, who she imagines wants to piss Lilly off as much as she does.

Pros: Not only is it Veronica/Weevil, but Veronica/Weevil is, like, eighty percent of the plot. There’s definitely smut (plot- and character-advancing, even!). There’s an unexpectedly touching strangers-with-benefits relationship even before the extremely unplanned pining. This one felt the most like the show when I was planning it out, especially with the nature and timing of the twists. Lilly is not evil, she’s just a teenager in over her head who doesn’t want to admit it and coping maladaptively.

Cons: I always feel weird touting porn as a selling point when I wrote it, because I have had zero sex in my entire life (although I am thirty, and I feel like life experience and general knowledgeableness about actual human anatomy count for something here). I have not started this one yet, although it’s more or less outlined. Logan also does not come off well (this is because he is a teenager having a Very Bad Time, but his actions are still not excusable). This was originally two different AUs before I realized they should probably be one (I cannot say what the other one was, because it’s a major spoiler), so there’s the possibility of disjointedness where they meet. Also, I’m not entirely sure I have the chops to pull this one off – there’s a lot of dark stuff going on under the surface (well, there’d have to be, for the plot to work, because otherwise it’s just very OOC), and it’s not the kind of thing that’s usually my forte, but I’m going to give it a shot anyway.

*Platonic Co-parents

AU where Veronica stays at Hearst. She and Weevil have a one-night stand in her third year and end up getting a child out of it.

Pros: It’s just a lot of fun! It’ll probably end up W/V but in the meantime they’ve got a solid, supportive friendship going on, to the aggravation of everyone either of them tries to date. (“What do you mean your daughter’s father is sleeping on your couch because the hot water broke in his apartment???”) I have a later scene planned out where they go to the high school reunion separately and deliberately show everyone the same picture of Mariana to see if anyone realizes it’s the same kid, which sums up the vibe pretty well. There is Keith+Weevil awkwardness and then probably some Keith+Weevil friendship later on. Lots of time given to Weevil’s family. Also, Veronica looks into Susan Knight’s suspicious drowning. I have also (technically) started it.

Cons: Listen, I know it’s a reach for Veronica to be willing to have a child at this point in her life, but I’ve done my best to justify it and I think I did okay. Plus, you know, the entire premise is a junk food trope – it’s not evil, but it’s trite. I love it anyway.

No, I want something else/FINISH YOUR OTHER STUFF

*[Earth’s Children] The story where an adult Durc and Brun’s former clan meet the post-Ayla Lion Camp!

Pros: Ambitious dual narrative I think I’m pulling off well (time divergent; one strand moving forward from the first encounter, one from Ayla’s departure), lots of screentime for supporting characters with wasted potential (Vorn, Frebec, Ura, Brac, not to mention Durc), several chapters already written.

Cons: Extremely ambitious so it will take me forever to finish, there’s basically no one in this fandom.

*[Earth’s Children] The Echozar/Joplaya fic

Pros: Actually develops their friendship into something that makes sense, development of Echozar’s childhood and of the Lanzadonii, I’ve got a rough outline and a few pages written.

Cons: Definitely chaptered so it will take some time, there are even less people in this part of the fandom.

*[The Old Guard] Give An Inch Fall A Mile (Joe and Nicky friendship-with-benefits their way into being Joe and Nicky)

Pros: Lots of sex scenes (obviously) on which I have had positive feedback, several chapters written (probably half-finished), I'm very proud of the writing quality on this one, and I absolutely should be writing this first.

Cons: I have been stalled out on it for more than a year, it may not be finished before the new movie comes out and possibly makes it incompatible with canon.

*[Veronica Mars] The Firebird AU… crossover… fusion… thing

Post-S4, Veronica travels through alternate universes and learns that she needs to get her shit together and apologize to Weevil.

Pros: Um, the Firebird Trilogy is cool but is not required knowledge for entry, alternate universes are neat, and even though this idea is probably dumb I can’t stop thinking about it. It would probably even technically comply with canon.

Cons: Half of the universes I have up my sleeve are from the AUs mentioned above, so it probably won’t get written (if it does) until they’re finished in like ten to twenty years. The actual plot is thin; I mostly have a bunch of scenes. There is a decent chance this idea is self-gratifying and pointless, but I also just cannot stop thinking about it.

*[Veronica Mars] Zombie Apocalypse

Post-S4 zombie apocalypse lands Veronica and Keith on a stolen yacht with a bunch of Weevil’s gang, Jade and her new boyfriend, and this one other guy.

Pros: There’s a lot of compelling (I think) personal drama, which is largely not rooted in anyone being an asshole (except Veronica, but that’s canon and I can’t do anything about it except try to fix it with zombies). Weevil finds out his kid is trans and does his best to speed-run the acceptance ladder despite his personal doubts because he’s extremely concerned about being killed by zombies (and thinks he's dying for a minute) and knows this is his only chance to make them feel supported. Eventual W/V, probably.

Cons: I do not know where I’m going with this. Author is not trans herself and might fuck up.

*[Veronica Mars] The Babysitter Effect

Valentina’s babysitter is still in the truck when Weevil stops to help Celeste, and she witnesses everything.

Pros: Teenage awkwardness, but in a fun way. Weevil gets the justice he fucking deserves. Beginning already written.

Cons: I have no plans at all for what happens after the inciting incident, and even if I did I don’t know how long this would be.

Soooo... if you're not in the Silm fandom you've probably never seen my writing before, but I'm happy to back it up with excerpts! Please ask me for excerpts.

If I keep up the volume of writing I've been doing I can probably get something substantial finished by the end of the year but I need input, please weigh in even if we're complete strangers and you found this post two years from now, best-case scenario I can link you to the completed fic. :)

#veronica mars #eli navarro #weevil navarro #fanfic #fandom misc #earth's children #i seriously keep bouncing between these ideas at the speed of light #give me some direction and i promise i will finish SOMETHING #i just want to keep my momentum up #yes i know this is going to look bizarre to 90% of my dash but hey you can veronica mars AND tolkien #so hopefully i am not screaming into the void #although that's not much different from talking loudly about weevil in my empty living room which i already do #so i'll be fine either way #revenge gambit fic #the jade/eli chronicles

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ruskaroma · 1 year

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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name.

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present.

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow.

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows.

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again.

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her.

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him.

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him.

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her.

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!”

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it.

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women.

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep.

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls.

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off.

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #john wick x you #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #john wick smut #ochl #my works

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occasionally-intelligent · 7 months

Text

If We Never Met- Part 1

hiya!! this is my first @invisobang piece ever!! it's around 25k words in total, but i plan to post in parts, this part being around 1.2k. i'm so glad i got to work with @this-is-z-art-blog and @thickerthanectoplasm to get the wonderful art that's coming with it (plus quite a bit of beta reading)!

Summary: In the episode "Memory Blank", Danny loses his memory and powers to Desiree, the wishing ghost. What if, instead of forcing Danny to go through the portal again, Sam became the new half-ghost protector of Amity Park? She thinks she's the only one who remembers how it used to be, but as she adjusts to her new reality and discovers her new powers, Sam soon finds she's not alone.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh, very cute. I said I wish we’d never met and now you’re pretending we didn’t meet. You’re hilarious.” Sam rolled her eyes, hand on her hip as she waited for Danny to cut the crap.

“No, seriously, do I know you?” He responded in earnest confusion.

Before Sam could respond, Tucker spritzed something minty into his mouth and practically pushed the other boy away. “And more importantly, would you like to know me?”

He held out his hand for Sam to shake, “Hi, I’m Tucker. Tucker Foley. That’s T.F. as in ‘too fine’.”

“Oh, gross!” Sam’s entire body shuddered as she slapped his hand away, “Are you hitting on me?”

As this was happening, one of Casper High’s various nerds was being cruelly shoved into a locker down the hall. Even if it was a regular occurance, this particular nerd had had enough. “I wish someone would give you a taste of your own medicine!” He screamed.

And as if she could hear the calls of Murphy's law, Desiree materialized from the void to make everything worse, announcing– “So you have wished it, and so it shall be!”

Desiree smiled as she zapped the kid, ignorant enough to make a wish around her, turning him into a ghoulish, green monster. He leapt out of the locker excitedly and (deservedly) beat the snot out of Dash and Kwan.

She smiled, proud to display her power and ready to move on to the next victim. But before Desiree took her leave, something peculiar caught her eye. She began moving cautiously towards the moody girl she knew as the ghost boy’s friend, but quickly changed trajectory and headed in Danny’s direction instead.

Once she was close enough to tower over Danny, she smirked as she said, ”Boo.”

“G-g-GHOST!!” he screamed, throwing his scrawny arms over his head.

Desiree was pleased with herself, and before any of the trio could stand up to her, she flew away, cackling and mumbling to herself.

Sam was less than impressed at Danny’s shenanigans today. “That’s Desiree, the wishing ghost!” Sam grabbed Danny by the shoulders, and avoided the temptation to shake him a little. “Danny, you’ve gotta do something. Why aren’t you going ghost?”

Unfortunately there was zero recognition from her friend. Danny shrugged her off and backed away, “Look, kid. I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. All I know is I am out of here!”

---

All Sam could think as she watched Danny run off like a coward was how someone like that could have ever ended up a “fearless superhero”.

Sam was at a complete loss for words. Only two things in her mind were possible; either the boys were playing an asinine prank on her, or they really didn’t remember who she was.

She hoped it was the former, but the fact Tucker flirted with her (weird) pointed, hopefully, to the latter. He’d always flirted with every girl that moved– but was adamant he’d never flirt with Sam. And if he’s gone back on his word, it better be because he doesn’t remember her. No matter how stupid it sounds. Otherwise she’d have to strangle him. Probably.

But that train of thought would have to stay in the back of her mind– she had classes to prepare for, and a locker to visit. Her day, apart from this, should be completely normal.

Or not.

As soon as Sam opened her locker, she was smacked in the face with undeniable evidence that her friends (if she could even call them that anymore) truly didn’t remember her. Her favorite polaroid, one of the three of them on the first day of school, one she had only taken a few months ago didn’t have a single trace of her in it. Only Danny and Tucker standing with an awkward blank space between the two of them, as though she was erased.

This… this isn’t right– There’s gotta be some way to prove I was in the picture– I’m the one who took it!

Sam shook her head and pocketed the photo for later. The halls were emptying and she couldn’t risk being late, or worse– detention.

As she hastily grabbed all the books she needed for the first few periods, Sam’s hand brushed against the spine of something that was definitely not a textbook. Is this where this damn thing had been misplaced for months? She yanked out her old photo album.

Well, it’s not that old, but old enough she gave up on finding it again. Hell, she was close to making a new one the last few weeks, seeing as she hadn’t seen it in months. It isn’t anything special, really. It started out with a few of her birthdays from before middle school Danny or Tucker were occasionally in the background, but once she gets to the pages from middle school onwards, the two become more prominent. The most recent pages were fresh after Danny’s accident and stopped around the time she misplaced the damn thing.

How convenient– this might actually work if she shows it to the bo–

Suddenly, the bell rings shrilly, making her want to cover her ears.

‘Dang– are you kidding me?? My parents will kill me if they find out I’m late again.’

Sam simply sighs, rustling around in her bag and producing a stack of hall passes, quickly forging a signature without a thought.

What? She’s a responsible student. Usually.

---

The fake pass barely works, but Sam manages to slide home to her first period seat unaccosted. Tetslaff has a nigh unreadable signature, even to hawk-eyed Lancer.. She slumps down in her usual spot in the room. It takes her a moment but she notices Tucker and Danny are nowhere to be found.

Didn’t we always have first hour together?

The three are inseparable, both at home and in the classroom– specifically by parental ‘suggestion’.

When the three finally made it to freshman year, Sam offhandedly mentioned her worry of being alone in her classes, very loudly, within her mother’s range of hearing. Not even a week later, her parents made a call to the school to ensure the trio would have all their classes together. all day. Even when they drove each other up the wall.

She smiles fondly as she prepares for Lancer’s blabbing for the hour. She looks at her friend’s empty seats and feels the emptiness in her heart when she realizes there would be no passing notes or sharing whispers.

‘Now is not the time. I need to help Danny get his powers back. Or maybe even convince him to do it on his own. I wonder if the portal has even been opened yet…’

As Lancer drolls on about the book of the week, she finds her mind wandering to earlier that day. Specifically to what Danny said. More specifically, the thing about her being the reason he had ghost powers in the first place.

‘Wait, if I gave him his ghost powers in the first place– that means… all the stress and responsibility,’

Sam frowns at the realization before her train of thought continues. ‘If I did that to him, to my best friend, doesn’t that mean I can do the same for… or to someone else?’

With that heavy train of thought, she starts to make a plan.

---

Stay tuned for part 2!

#invisobang #if we never met #dp #danny phantom #phandom #phanfic #sam manson #memory blank #dp season 2 #au #dp au

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