#And they were glad Danny could hide bodies on his own!

[radiance1]

A 'No one knows' Au and that one au where Danny leaves behind a corpse after death.

With a twist.

Jack and Maddie, not fearing death but fearing becoming a ghost after death have perfected what one would call functional immortality.

Clones.

Which is kind of why they're pretty careless about danger outside of combat, they just, quite literally, cannot be bothered to care less. If they die? Then their souls would just be thrusted into a clone body.

They didn't just cheat death, they walked all over it, spat on it, and continued walking over it a multitude of times.

Which accidently became a plus for Danny and his secret identity.

See, when Danny went ghost to save the day, he came back only to find his body gone. Safe to say, he panicked and looked everywhere for it, or tried to at least, because if that got out he wouldn't really know how to deal with it.

Only to then learn his parents hid and are quite literally experts at hiding bodies, his included.

Jack and Maddie are quite happy that they were the ones who stumbled upon Danny's body and not anyone else, since it would take a quite long amount of explanation as to why their son was found dead yet seemingly walked to school fine hit Monday!

Well, they weren't happy he died really, as any parent wouldn't be, but they're glad they prepared extra bodies for both him and Jazz in case the day ever came.

Danny awkwardly slid himself into said excuse while trying not to externally freak the fuck out. But hey, at least it's a plus that whenever his parents find his corpse they just, hid it no questions asked.

Good, it would be so weird if anyone managed to find either of their multiple corpses.

But hey! At least Jazz hasn't died yet!

[obetrolncocktails]

Deception | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 1

Warnings: This fic will include angst and smut. If those aren't your thing, don't read! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2.1K

Authors Note: I had a hurtful, but oh so deliciously angsty idea for a fic involving Josh and a reader who was a fan, and led josh on to believe that they met naturally in a grocery store.

Summary: Be careful what you wish for. Wishes answered always come with consequences.

His sheets smelled of fresh linen, like fresh clothes pulled from a clothesline, crisp with the scent of sunshine. You’d burrowed yourself into them like a cocoon of welcome warmth, wrapping yourself in the swaths of fabric. 

“For someone who claims to be so hot all the time, you sure look like you’re ready to hibernate,” Josh mused, strolling into the bedroom as he sipped from the lip of a large mug. He was prepared, having made you one as well. You offered him a gentle smile. 

“I’m comfy,” you replied, satisfied with the simplicity of your response. 

“Sit up, silly,” He said, lowering himself onto the bed, carefully handing you your piping-hot cup of coffee. Wisps of steam billowed over the top of the mug and you sipped tentatively at the liquid, feeling it instantly liven your body from head to toe. 

“How does it feel to be twenty-six years and three hundred and sixty-four days old?” you asked him, eyeing him from over the lip of the cup. 

“Geez, when you say it like that, you make me sound ancient,” he chuckled. You loved the way his lips curled upward when he grinned, revealing his brilliant, white teeth. The slight gap between his front two teeth always sent flutters through your body. You caught yourself admiring his delicate, but masculine features. “But I’m excited! I never thought I’d end up planning my own birthday party.” He looked at you with amusement. 

“Come on. You mean to tell me you didn’t enjoy designing your own birthday cake?” You said, taking another long swig of your coffee before lowering it to your lap as you crossed your legs. “Only you would choose that symbol.”

His widening grin told you all you needed to know. “Yeah, that was pretty cool.” His eyes glimmered with child-like amusement, which sent a pang through your chest. “I’m just glad that everyone can make it, you know? It’s hard these days to get everyone in one place at the same time.” 

You nodded, reaching to place the cup on the bedside table. “Sam, Danny and I made sure that everyone could make it.” You ruffled your messy hair with your fingertips, watching him finish off his coffee. “We threatened physical violence if they didn’t.” 

“Okay, but who’s the one throwing the punches?” Josh asked, his eyebrows raised with amusement. 

“Who do you think?” You answered, lifting your fists playfully in front of you. “They don’t want it, I promise you.”

“Put your guns away,” He chuckled. “I bet you Jake is gonna be so jealous,” He continued, setting his cup on the side table before moving back to lay on the bed and prop up his head on his hand. His eyes brightened, his cheeks filling with color.

“Of what?” You asked, taking another sip of your coffee. 

“My party.” He said lightly.

“I mean,  you are the more performative of the two, so…” You admitted. He turned to you, scoffing incredulously. 

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” He asked, gawking. He couldn’t hide, though, that his features were fighting the urge to twist into a ridiculous smirk. His eyes seemed to glitter as he questioned you.

“Nothing!” You said, rolling out of bed with your empty coffee cup. 

“No, no! You don’t get off that easy,” Josh said, pulling at the thin fabric of your sleep shorts, pulling you back closer to him. 

“Oh , you want me to say sorry?” You asked him, biting your bottom lip as your eyes glimmered with mischief. 

“I thought maybe you could show me you’re sorry instead,” he said. “Come here.” 

You obeyed him, leaning closer to him. “Yes sir.”

The intensity in his eyes deepened as his fingertips pulled upward to gently caress your chin and jaw, drawing your face forward to meet with his lips. The feeling of his touch ignited the heat between your thighs. Josh’s boyish features could easily morph in the matter of seconds into something almost siren-like—He naturally honed the ability to unconsciously will you to do anything for him with just a look. He harnessed the power to peer straight through your soul like glass, like he could somehow see all of you at once, including your every thought, worry, and desire. At the beginning of the relationship, it had made you feel extremely vulnerable and unguarded, but now? Now, you found comfort in him knowing everything about you. Well, almost everything. There were certain things that you weren’t ready to tell him yet. You’d wait for the right time to come clean. 

You gave in to the gentle caress of his velvet lips and folded your body into an innate dance, moving in an exact mirror to him as he explored you. “You want me to show you just how sorry I am?” You whispered against his parted lips, your voice barely more than a huff of breath as your instincts began to take over. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you against him. You took that as his answer. 

“Go right ahead,” he purred softly. It was moments like these when you’d often felt most vulnerable in front of a man. In most of your previous relationships, you’d been so reluctant to let your partners in, to see the most vulnerable, insecure, and sensitive parts of yourself. You’d built your walls with an impenetrable defense, constructed by so many years of hating your own body more than anyone else could. Recently, it was becoming clearer to you that there was one thing that you knew for sure about Josh. He silently set himself apart from everyone else. Not once had he ever judged you for your appearance; for the extra curves, the extra pounds, the imperfect folds and creases that were so ugly to you, but so perfect to him. Even so, he didn’t feel pity for you, either. He treated you like a person, not the fragile pane of glass you had let yourself become in the hands of so many past partners’ hands. Not a single interaction was laced with unspoken judgment, because the truth was simple. Being fat meant nothing to Josh. 

You remembered those first days when Josh all but begged you to stop apologizing for the things that you couldn’t and shouldn’t change, constantly reminding you that you were a beautiful woman. “You are allowed to take up space in this world. Stop apologizing for abiding in it, Y/n. You have nothing to worry about when you’re with me,” he had said to you after a few dates, when you’d make it a point to apologize or somehow discount your appearance or importance. You couldn’t help it. It had become the safest defense mechanism that you could create; you’d insult yourself before anyone else could beat you to it. 

You let yourself fall after those first few weeks, and unsurprisingly, it was one of the easiest decisions you had ever made. The loop of his fingers around yours began to feel so natural and reassuring. You could count on him to encourage you to try new things, to leave you in stitches from laughing, and at the end of the night, you could rest assured that he’d leave you thinking about him for every moment he wasn’t with you. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, the corners of his lips twitching upward in a curious smile. 

“You,” you answered honestly, reaching forward to tuck some of his curls behind his ear. 

“Oh no,” he answered, his cheeks flushing. “Should I be running for cover?” He asked, pretending to get up. 

“No, no, come back here,” you said, pulling at his arm. You let the moment settle into contented silence as you both let your gaze linger between each other. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Always. What’s up?” Josh asked, moving to caress your arm softly as you prepared to speak. You pulled yourself upward to sit straight on the bed, and he did the same, sitting in front of you.

“You are–” you paused for a moment, figuring out the next words before speaking again. “You are the closest thing I’ve had to a home in a very, very long time, and I think I’m ready.” You both had agreed that sex wasn’t expected in the relationship until you had told him so, and even then, with Josh, you knew that you wanted it to be special when it was time. 

“Ready for?” He asked, his eyes widening slightly. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. 

“I am ready to be with you. I am ready to have sex, if and when you are.” You pulled your gaze upward to look him in the eye. “I want to be yours completely, Josh. You make me feel beautiful, and I think I am beginning to believe it, too.” The words spilled out of you easily, because for the first time, you believed them. 

“You are truly marvelous,” he spoke, straightening to sit cross legged again on the bed. “I am a lucky man, and I gotta say. Thank God we love the same pasta sauce.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as he recounted your first meeting at Kroger. You had been choosing between pasta sauces, and couldn’t decide whether to stay with your tried-and-true selection or try something new. 

“You want this one,” he had said, pointing to the one in your right hand–the one that was your favorite. You looked up, and were automatically struck by his natural beauty–the mixture of feminine and masculine features which were combined in an almost artistic product. You couldn’t look him in the eye, and you certainly couldn’t talk straight. 

“What?” You said after a long moment, yanking yourself out of your daze. “Oh. Yeah, this one? You said, raising the jar in the air. “It’s my favorite. Don’t break it if it isn’t fixed–right?” You decided to keep your mouth shut rather than fix the saying that you had just butchered so badly. Josh laughed, reaching for a jar of his own off of the shelf. 

“Something like that, yeah.” His dimples were huge, and his teeth were so white they almost seemed to sparkle. Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. For a moment, you forgot how to swallow, how to talk, how to breathe. How are you real? You remembered thinking to yourself. 

“Sorry, I’m just a little–frazzled. I’m Y/n.” you said, stupidly extending your hand to him. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n. Grocery shopping can really take it out of us,” he said, taking your hand. You were grateful for his skillful segue. “I’m Josh.” 

You nodded. “Nice name,” you told him before mentally kicking yourself in the head. You’d wished you’d worn steel toes, and also that you had crazy flexibility so you could kick yourself across the pasta aisle. God I’m so fucking dumb. 

“I’d say yours is far more lovely,” he said, saving you again, and you couldn’t save the heat from filling your face. You were becoming intensely aware of your insecurities as you felt his eyes float over your body and back up to your face. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, feeling anxiety exploding through your system like a disturbed hornet’s nest. 

“Well, I hope your pasta turns out delicious,” he said. “I can tell you’ve got great taste,” he said, putting the jar in his small hand basket. 

“You too,” you said with a gentle smile. “Only losers eat Prego,” you said with a grin. 

“That’s a bold statement, Y/n. We need to make sure that Campbell’s Soup Company isn’t listening to our every word.” You couldn’t help but snicker, accidentally snorting at the stupid joke. 

“Stupid joke?” he asked, reading your mind. 

“Yeah, I gotta admit. It was a terrible joke,” you said, your cheeks aching painfully from grinning. 

“Ah well, I’m known for them, so,” he shrugged, adjusting his basket in the crook of his elbow. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Y/n. If I see  you next time, maybe we’ll compare ingredients again.” 

“I’m ready for you,” Josh said. “I’ve known it’s you for a while now,” he admitted, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “I want to make it special,” He continued. “Let me make you dinner. You already know what’s on the menu, besides you, of course,” he said with a soft grin. 

“Josh Kiszka’s world famous Spaghetti?” You said, eyeing him with a smirk. 

“You know it!” He said excitedly. “Come here, let me kiss you.” 

You obeyed him instantly, leaning forward into his awaiting embrace, letting yourself be truly loved for the first time. 

You heard a buzz from your phone on the side table, but ignored it. 

You’re a whore for going after the celebrities you write such filthy smut about. I’ve found you, and it’s only a matter of time before everyone finds out about your little secret. Could be fun, don’t you think?

End of part 1.

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[spicysourchimken]

So with the DP x DC “Corpses AU” thing, what type of worldbuilding about his corpses do you mean? Like, is it about how he deals with his numerous corpses or about the “why” of the many-corpse situation? I’m curious about both

Also, how long did it take for his parents to find out in this AU (assuming they have)? I feel like the corpses would make things kinda hard to hide, but idk

Oh I'm so glad you asked. The answer is Yes.

Why and How on the Corpses

Danny's corpse is the universe leveling itself out. Its the universe manifesting a counter balance to Danny's death, he's still alive, his heart still beats and he breaths and as Danny that's fine, he's able to tap into his more ghostly side freely while still breathing, still sleeping, functioning as a living person but a little bit off.

But as a ghost there's nothing to keep him human, bada bing bada boom corpse. It's acting as a tether or an anchor, its the thing keeping him stable. The more he transforms the more need there is for the corpses.

But there's also an upper limit on the corpses. Because as much as they are real, they were at one point humans- but they're also the universe fucking around with an anomaly. Normally it taps out at around 10 or 12 corpses, once Danny exceeds the Corpse Limit, the bodies spark and disintegrate (mimicking Danny's death via electrocution)

Also there are two main ways for Danny to get corpsed, either willingly but going ghost and dropping another body or by his human body getting too hurt or verging death where he forcefully gets kicked out. Danny is stuck in a state of liminality, he can't be more dead or more alive so he's gotta even out before he can go back to either form (meaning that Danny can also be forcefully turned into a human when his ghost form is beat to hell and back)

Reveal and Dealing With Corpses

His parents very much did find out and it did not go well. It's very in line with the thinking of 'Phantom is a ghost possessing the body of our son' taken to the absolute extreme. It. Genuinely took longer than Danny thought it would've, he did manage to finish high school or get a good way into 12th grade before he was caught.

Sam, Danny and Tucker upon first corpsing, did what normal teens did and panicked. Then Sam took over, eventually settle on using the old drums that the Fenton parents used to primarily store chemicals, it evolved as Danny needed to transform in different parts of Amity Park so they assigned dump sites for Danny to transform in so that Sam and Tucker could get there and take care of it, or so that Danny would know where to drag his own remains.

His parents found out by witnessing Phantom attempt to hide his own corpse, it went as well as can be expected.

In Gotham Danny is far more sloppy that he was in Amity Park, with his main way of dealing with it being Don't Die or Transform. Problem solved. If he has to actually deal with a body he makes sure its out of site and that at least his hands are frozen down so that nobody makes an attempt to move him before he's got a dump site prepared. He tends to prefer not to deal with the logistics of water burials but dumping them in the river is the best he's got at the moment the au takes place in, too bad the bats are faster than he is.

[spark-my-nature]

Follow Me Down - DRW

Part One

Chapter word count: 6.1K

Summary: The boys are home from tour. You've missed them. Especially him. Friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, alcohol, drunk silly boys. (Next part will be smut, this part is fluffy)

Read part two (Also linked at the end)

The heavy bass of somebody’s playlist vibrated through the wood of the front deck as you hopped up the steps. The door shut, and knowing the party was in the basement, you silently snickered in gratitude for the woods that surrounded Josh’s place, and the prevention of immediate neighbors that it provided. 

You never knew whether to knock in these situations. Nobody would hear you, but you could never shake the feeling of intrusion if you didn’t at least rap your knuckles against the door before barging in, and so that’s what you did. You glanced back at the street lined with cars before pushing the door open. Immediately, the volume of the music assaulted your ears and you blinked a few times, shaking your head as you looked around. A couple of people gave you nods and smiles in the kitchen and entryway, but the basement door beckoned you down into the heart of the welcome-back celebrations. 

Returning friendly hellos to the few faces you recognized as you stepped over shoes, your eyes caught on the pair of black lace-up boots that wedged the basement door open. 

He’s here, then. Of course he is, it’s his own band’s “welcome back from tour” party, you were expecting him to be. Nothing warranted the surge of nervous energy that the sight of his boots kicked up in you, he’s been your friend since middle school. Doesn’t that make it even worse somehow, though?

You hadn’t laid eyes on Danny in the couple of months he’d been touring the states. Texting goes without saying, and occasional postcards got displayed proudly, tucked in the mirror of your dresser, each one signed with, “Love, Danny”. God, you wished he meant that word the way you wanted him to, though. 

Already, your palms felt sweaty, and you inwardly groaned at your ridiculous nervousness. This was so stupid, you were acting like you’d never seen a boy before. 

One as gorgeous as Danny, though? 

You swallowed and shook your hair out, wiping your hands on your skirt as you stepped down into the LED strip-lighted basement. The air chilled slightly, despite the many bodies crammed into the space. Josh had really made the basement an amazingly welcome party space. You’d almost forget it was even a basement, with cozy rugs, groovy lights and various speakers, TV screens, couches and a pool table. Friends of the guys made good use of the bar on the far wall, and as you scanned the room, you spotted all three Kiszka brothers around a newly added air-hockey table. Jake was already slurring British encouragements as Sam and Josh trash-talked each other as they repeatedly slammed the little puck across the surface. You covered your lips with your hand, hiding your giggle as you watched the boys, walking blindly towards the bar when you collided with a firm, tall body. 

“Shit- sorry,” you started, your head turning quickly towards the stranger you’d affronted with your clumsiness, when your heart skipped a beat with both relief and a whole new set of nerves. 

“Oh my god, hey you!” Danny beamed, turning and opening his arms to you. Your heart twisted some more, stepping into him as delicately as you could, giggling girlishly as he squished you against his warm body. “Hi, Danny,” you shyly returned. His cologne gently took over the forefront of your senses, combining with the inebriating feeling of his solid arms so tight around you. 

“I missed you, I hoped you’d be here, I was actually just telling Dave- uh,” he chuckled, releasing you from his bear hug, and your stomach twisted as you noticed his faint blush. “But you’re here! You came, I’m so glad.” 

You playfully nudged his socked foot with your converse sneaker. “Me too, it’s been so long!” You finally mustered the courage to take a good look at his face. 

Oh, huge mistake. 

He was beaming down at you, eyes shining with slight inebriation and affection. His lightly freckled tanned face looked so clear, soft… skin stretched tight around his sharp jawline, and his hair- oh god, his hair, the natural curls he was blessed with were clearly flourishing under his strict care routine. Perfect, shiny strands twisted adorably around his, frankly, kissable cheeks. 

Your face felt hot, even as you returned his wide smile. His infuriatingly long lashes batted as his eyes roamed your figure. You shifted your weight, toying with the hem of your skirt as he analyzed you in return. Clearing his throat, he turned his head, casually scanning the room as his cheeks coloured pink. “You look great,” he offered, seeming almost shy. 

You cocked your head curiously, unsure if he looked nervous or if you were seeing what wasn’t there in your hopefulness. Regardless, you knocked back, “So do you… have you been working out, or is it just killing it on the drums that gave you these?”

You reached up and squeezed his biceps gently, keeping your face light but inwardly screeching. Where did this come from? That was almost… smooth?

Danny’s smile widened again, briefly glancing at your hand on his arm before returning his gaze to your eyes. “Oh- uhhh, drums, I guess. Josh is more of the gym-bro, y’know,” he laughed softly. 

His eyes traced your face as you giggled, an expression you couldn’t quite place shaping his features. Curiosity? …Interest? Whatever it was, you never wanted him to stop. 

Letting your hand skim his bare skin as you dropped your arm, you nodded. “Ahh. Yeah, you can tell him how much the girls on twitter love the payoff from that, then,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. 

Danny blinked, then snorted a laugh, his gorgeous nose crinkling. “Oh, God, no I will not be sharing that with him. Dude’s head would explode,” he shook his head, glancing across the room to the other curly headed band member. 

You followed his eyes, and you both watched the brothers furiously smack the air-hockey puck back and forth until finally Sam sunk it into Josh’s net. Josh mimicked snapping something over his knee in faux-rage as Sam wiggled out his little happy-dance. Jake roared unintelligibly, adding his two cents to the chaos. 

Snickering at the display, you turned back to face Danny, finding his eyes already stuck on you. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, because his face was still turned to the Kiszkas. He was looking at you from the corner of his eye, as though trying to check you out discreetly, and he blushed, bring his drink up to his lips to sip. Butterflies twisted in your belly at the thought, shuffling your feet awkwardly. Bringing a hand up to brush your hair over one of your shoulders, a nervous habit, you caught Danny’s eyes returning to scan your exposed neck. 

“I, uhh, I’m gonna grab a drink-“ You started, flustered, and Danny jumped in, nodding as he swallowed hastily. 

“Yeah, ‘course. I’ll catch you in a bit?” he finished. Nodding, you grinned through the pang of disappointment you felt. 

“For sure,” you answered, making your way to the bar. You hadn’t seen the boy in nearly three months, did you seriously expect him to follow you around the party all night? Shaking your head at the ridiculous notion as you made your drink, you then turned as you heard slurred rambling voices getting louder as the source approached. 

Before you could fully turn around, an eager Sam Kiszka barreled into you at full force. You barely saved your drink as you stumbled, laughing at the barrage of affection from your friend. “Sammyyyyy,” you giggled, letting out a strained grunt as he squeezed your middle tightly. 

“Hello lovely!” His long arms released you as he grabbed a fresh glass from the bar. “I missed you, but you’re here and I don’t have to miss you anymore,” he informed you happily. You giggled, nodding your agreement at his logic. “Indeed, how astute of you. I missed you too, Sammy, you have fun on tour?” 

He nodded, throwing back a tequila shot before answering. “Always,” he swallowed, raspy from the drink. “But,” he started to smirk, leaning in conspiratorially, “there’s this absolute smokeshow I’ve been chatting with for a couple weeks, and she came tonight,” he whispered. You looked around, and Sam discreetly gestured to the, truly, beautiful dark haired girl leaning against a wall by the music set-up. You let out a soft, “Ooooo,” nodding your appreciation. Sam furrowed his brow in emphasis, “yeah.”

You giggled, “D’you show me her for some competition or did you want some wingman support?”

Sam shot his eyes over to you, squinting. “You keep away from her, she’d pick you over me in a heartbeat,” he pleaded. You snorted, shoving his shoulder. “Oh shut up, she’s literally staring at you right now.” 

Sam’s head whirled around to the girl in question and you yanked him back around before he could embarrass the both of you. “Sam,” you hissed, trying to look casual, “You are the least subtle person I know.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well,” he focused back on you. As best his half-in-the-bag self could, anyway. “Listen, here’s the plan.”

You nodded, feeling like you were back in middle school, planning your escape from Chemistry class to go practice some music with he and Danny again. Sam was always your co-conspirator, and it made your heart feel full with affection as that never changed with time. 

“Jake’s gonna suggest we play spin-the-bottle-“ 

His explanation was interrupted by the snort of laughter you let out, quickly covering your laugh with your hand. He glared at you, putting his hands on his hips. “What??”

“Spin the bottle? You’re actually thirteen years old, Sam,” you giggled. “Continue.”

He huffed, “That’s basically all I’ve got anyway. I’m just hoping the bottle gods are on my side tonight.” 

You shook your head with a fond smile, “Alright, alright. What do you need me for then?” 

He shrugged. “Just have my back, alright? Like if it lands between her and someone else, you can like help make the,” he air quoted, “judgement call. Also, everyone is definitely gonna laugh at the suggestion, so I need you to be on board, help convince them.” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking your shoulder into his arm, his few extra inches of height preventing the knock against his shoulder like you meant. “Fine. Tell Jake to go ahead.”

Sam nodded, looking around casually as he pursed his lips into a whistle. You bit back a laugh as Jake’s head turned across the room, a subtle nod following. 

“Friends, family, and ffffucking americans,” Jake ‘Oliver Reed’ Kiszka began, “Anybody up for a game?” A few chuckled agreements from around the room encouraged him, and he picked up the empty beer bottle from the table beside him. “Shall we give this a spin and get inappropriate?” 

One of the boy’s old friends from Frankenmuth High spoke up, “Are you suggesting spin the bottle?” His tone was good-natured as he teased, “Lonely on tour, were we?”

Jake pointed an aggressive finger his way, half-staggering as he retorted, “Nonsense! I would never leave your mum unsatisfied.”

Groans and laughter echoed around, and you snickered, watching the object of Sam’s desires giggle and look down awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ear and glancing Sam’s way. 

Sam smirked at her, out of the corner of your eye, and you caught him winking at her. 

Right about then, realization hit you like a truck. 

Danny was here. He would most certainly be swept into playing this game too. The chances were low but… it was possible Sam wouldn’t be the only one kissing their crush tonight. 

The night was getting more middle school-ish by the minute. 

Several minutes later, about ten party guests sat in a circle around Josh’s fluffy rug, a serving tray propping up the empty bottle at the center. Danny sat not-quite-across from you, Sam and a few others between the two of you. You nervously kept your hands in your lap, weighing down your skirt as you sat cross-legged. Risking a peek at him through your lashes, he was staring at his lap. You were unable to decipher his expression, and you didn’t like it. Taking a sip from your drink, you zoned back in to the game. Jake spun first, the group collectively “ooooo”-ing as it slowed and then rested pointed… at Sam. 

The loudest laugh came from Josh, and for once, that was saying something. The circle was hysterical, falling to pieces as Jake crawled forward with his lips puckered at his little brother. Sam yelped as realization struck, backing away on his hands and knees, but not fast enough. Jake smacked his hands on both of Sam’s cheeks, and tugged his head towards his lips. He planted a wet, loud smacking kiss in the centre of Sam’s forehead, Sam hollering his protest all the while. 

When the boys had settled back into position, you looked over at Danny, eyes shining with tears from the laughing fit. He wiped the corner of his eye, giggling, and his gaze caught on yours. You both shared a wordless moment of mirth at the brothers’ expenses before your attention was pulled away by Sam furiously wiping his forehead and reaching for the bottle. 

He spun it, perhaps way harder than was necessary, but you couldn’t blame him for being riled up. Unbelievably, it came to a stop between Danny and the girl of Sam’s desires. A hushed, “Ohh,” came from the group, sounding straight out of a nickelodeon show, and you watched Sam’s face blow out with shock. You also happened to catch Danny whispering with the girl in question. You shoved Sam forward, disguising it as a pat on the back, and settling back, curiously watching the interaction across the circle. 

Unable to let the opportunity to torment Sam escape him, Danny butted forward as Sam entered the circle, less than gracefully smacking his lips against Sam’s. 

Once again the group erupted in cackles, Danny scrambling backwards out of range from Sam’s swinging arms. Danny fell onto his back in his gap in the circle, laughing at the ceiling as Sam groaned his complaints, wiping his lips. 

Stubborn as ever, fueled perhaps by the persistent little-sibling need to prove himself and the denial of his kiss, Sam refocused on his crush, caving in and laughing along. She leaned towards him tentatively, and the two of them crawled towards each other, meeting in a soft kiss. She went to pull back but Sam chased her lips into another brief kiss, earning a collective giggle and a few whoops, from you included. 

When he settled back beside you, his cheeks were flushed pink, a silly grin painted across his lips. You shoved into him jovially, giving him a teasing smirk, which he chuckled at and shoved you back. 

You looked back over at Danny, who was conversing quietly with Sam’s girl again. Arguing, it seemed. Jokingly, but definitely arguing. As Danny huffed shyly, and crawled forward to the bottle, you realized she had given Danny her turn. Suddenly your heart thudded wildly under your ribcage. 

Your eyes were locked on the bottle as it spun, seemingly in slow motion. You closed your eyes before it stopped, heart sinking at the crash of realization that you were about to watch Danny kiss somebody else. 

The thought felt like a stab to the heart, twisting as the seconds ticked on. 

Then you felt Sams hand slap your shoulder, and his whisper near your ear, “Dude, open your eyes… are you okay?”

Blushing, you opened your eyes, looking at him in vague panic, but following his pointed nudge towards the bottle, you found it pointed directly at you. 

Shut the fuck up. 

Fight or flight coursed through your system, and you looked up at an equally stunned Daniel sitting across from you. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and this time, it felt like time was rushing by. Move, your brain screamed, kiss him for fuck’s sake!

Swallowing, you tentatively smiled at Danny, and your heart fluttered as his lips turned up in return. He looked hopeful, pleased even at your reaction. You pushed forward onto your hands and knees, crawling towards him and he mirrored you. Your face neared his, and you both paused for a moment in front of each other. You grinned, raising your brows at him in what you hoped was a playful grin. He let out a soft breathy chuckle and leaned in, lips parting as he closed in. 

Your eyes fluttered shut. And oh, sweet gods of love, his lips warmly met yours. Your head absolutely spun as you felt his lips press into yours, tenderly moving in the sweetest softest kiss you’d ever experienced in your life. All your suspicions were confirmed, he had the most kissable mouth in the world, and you had to force down the whimper that threatened to bubble up. 

Way too soon, he was pulling back, and you could cry from frustration. Fluttering your eyes open, you faintly heard a couple of party-goers cooing over you two, but your eyes were locked on his. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip slowly, looking just as stunned as you felt. 

Your body settled back into place beside Sam of it’s own accord, and your eyes hardly left Danny’s for several moments. That is, until Sam lightly tapped your knee, breaking your curious gaze. 

“That was… intense,” he whispered, smirking at you. “You got a thing for Danny?”

You blushed hard, peeking at the boy in question, who looked away once he’d been caught staring at you. Suddenly the room was spinning, and you took a deep grounding breath. 

“Follow me?” you asked him in a whisper, standing up before he could answer. You walked on autopilot to the stairs, walking straight up and towards the back door. Sam was scrambling, hot on your heels, following you out the door into the back yard. 

“Slow down, kiddo, where’s the fire?” he panted, falling into step beside you as you slowed down, headed to the gazebo in the yard. 

“Dunno, where’s Josh?” you joked, offering a half-assed smirk. Sam laughed his stoner laugh, turning your half smile into a true one. 

You both opened the screen door to the gazebo, and you sat down on one of the little wicker benches. Edison bulbs were strung across the ceiling, the maple-wood walls glowing warmly in their light. Crickets chirped in the dewy grass, and the fresh air already helped calm you down some. 

Sam knelt in front of you, putting his hands on your own, squeezing playfully as he smiled up at you. “Hey… you can tell me, yknow. Anything.”

You nodded, smiling down at the sweet boy in front of you. You already knew that, Sammy’d been there for you through the good, the bad and the ugly. 

“Yeah, I know man, and thank you,” you chuckled, playfully tangling your fingers with his in a lazy thumb wrestle. “S’ just… didn’t think I’d be facing it tonight.” 

Sam hummed. “Facing… Danny?” he finished questioningly. You giggled, “You make him sound like a video game boss or something.” 

Sam laughed, sitting back on his ass and releasing your hands to lean back on them. “He’d make one hell of a boss level, you gotta give him that. Probably in Donkey Kong. But for real, you like him?”

You look up at Sam, nodding shyly. “A lot.”

He broke out in a wide, teasing grin, “Awwwwwwww, my two best frieeeends,” he cooed, clasping his hands over his heart. “K-I-S-S-I-N- Oof-“

You kicked him back by his shoulder playfully. “Not fucking exactly, dork, he’d have to like me back for that to be a thing.” You looked down, fighting the sinking feeling that loomed over you. 

Sam sat back up, giving you the most offended, confused look. “Uhh… not a problem, dummy. Did you see his face when you kissed him? Hell, when the bottle landed on you?”

You shrugged, “No, not really, I mean, he kinda just looked surprised.”

Sam groaned dramatically, throwing his hands out. “Blind buffoons, the two of you.” He pulled himself to his feet, sitting beside you on the bench. “Look at me.” 

Once you did he gave you an imploring look. “He likes you. You can trust me on that.”

Your heart raced, and you furrowed your brow, “What? He never said a thing, Sam, how do you know?”

He snorted, “Neither have you, dumbass. And I can’t just spill all Danny’s secrets, would you appreciate it if I told him what we talk about?” 

You shook your head no, “Fair enough, but he has talked about me then?” You interrogated, to which Sam only snickered.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he held up a finger to you as he checked the notification. A wide smirk broke out on his face, and he held up the screen to your eyes. 

Dan Wags

11:36 pm Y/N with you? 

11:37 pm Is she okay?

11:43 pm SAM

11:44 pm sam I stg

You lifted your gaze from his screen and met his smirking face, your own face brightening in a shy smile. You bit your lip, letting out a giggle. “He’s uhh… not being very chill either.”

Sam snickered, typing a response. “I’m tellin’ ya, you’re meant for each other. Dramatic fuckers,” he mumbled the last part, sending the text and locking his phone. 

You nodded downwards. “What did you tell him?”

He stood, stretching his back dramatically with an old man grunt, then winking as he stepped to the door. “That you were waiting for him in the gazebo.”

You sputtered, standing up quickly, “Sam- wait, I don- I-I just…” 

He snickered, letting the door close behind him and calling over his shoulder, “Hey, wish me luck with that girl. Have fun!”

Your heart raced, palms sweating again, and you started pacing in the small gazebo. Crossing your arms, you huffed under your breath, “Hope she bites your dick off, instigating little bastard-“ the backdoor shutting froze you in place. 

Looking across the yard, Danny’s eyes met yours as he stepped off the stairs onto the lawn. He paused for a second, smiling timidly, and then making his way towards you. You met him shyly at the door, opening it for him as he stepped in, closer to you than was probably deemed platonic.

He walked in, turning to you shyly as you shut the door and faced him. You smiled tentatively, softly greeting him. “Hey…”

He smiled wider, looking down then back up at you through his lashes. “Hey, back.”

You giggled, purely because he looked so cute, and inwardly chastised yourself for acting like such a moron. You took your seat on the wicker bench, patting the space beside you. 

Danny sat down, and you looked over after a moment. He faced you, holding eye contact as he reached over, taking your hand in his. You weren’t sure if you were breathing as he scanned your face for a reaction, with that timid, enamored look on his face. 

Softly, he broke the silence. “You okay? You looked sorta freaked out back there,” he ran his thumb over the back of your hand, making your heart flutter. 

You took a breath, nodding, “Yeah, just needed a sec,” you admitted, watching his long fingers twisting with yours. 

“Away from me?” came his small response. Quickly looking up at him, your heart cracked at his eyes, wider than usual with nerves. “No, no no, just… away from the group, the party,” you assured, searching his eyes. 

He nodded, letting out a breath of relief through his nose. “Okay… good,” he smiled to himself. “Cause I’d really fucking hate it if I… if all that, um… made you uncomfortable,” he finished. 

You smiled at your fingers, his own still playing with yours. “Mmm, no.” You hummed after a pause. “Well, not the kissing you part. Could’ve done without everyone else watching,” you giggled shyly, blushing as you looked up at him finally. 

His face perked up, surprised and hopeful. “…you…” he cleared his throat, smiling boyishly. “You’d rather kiss me in private?”

Your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could hear it. Unable to quite meet his eyes, you mumbled, “…maybe.”

His head tilted to the side, looking down at you, and you felt as though he was holding you in his hands. “Just maybe?” 

You nervously squeezed his hands, summoning all your bravery and stepping closer, into his body. As you met his eyes, you softly corrected, “No, not maybe… definitely.”

He let out a quiet, slightly shaky breath, and his evident nerves elevated those butterflies swarming your stomach. His eyes searched your face, and he leaned closer. 

“Not sure if you noticed… but it’s just us out here, pretty girl.” 

One of his hands rose and brushed your hair back from your face and tucked it behind your ear, stealing your breath. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, your mind flashing back to the soft fullness of them against yours in the basement. Your hands rose from his, sliding up his chest gently and resting on his shoulders, as his settled on your waist and cupping your jaw. 

Offering him a shy but inviting smile, you tugged at his shoulders. Flashing his heartstopping smile, he leaned down at your bequest, brushing his nose against yours gently, then meeting your lips sweetly. 

Immediately relaxing into the kiss, you snaked your arms around his neck, letting your bodies press together gently. His lips parted, deepening the kiss tentatively, earning a tiny whimper from you. The music thumped distantly, muted through the walls of the house, not loud enough to disturb the romantic ambiance of the evening crickets. Danny’s hand slipped into your hair, holding you so lovingly against him as his tongue traced lightly against your lips. You shivered, happily parting your lips and meeting his tongue with yours. 

He let out the softest, most delicious moan, pressing one more deep kiss against your lips before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. 

You had matching dopey smiles, quickly accompanied by blushing cheeks as you caught each other’s eyes and giggled. His hand in your hair ran through the length of it, sliding down your back and resting beside the other hand at your waist. 

“That was nice,” you whispered, making Danny chuckle. 

“That was incredible,” he agreed. His hand returned to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheek as he admired your face. “Should we do it again?”

You giggled out loud at that, and he joined you, smiling innocently, “What?” 

You playfully shoved at his shoulder, teasing “You’re so stupid,” and before he could get a word in, you tugged him back down into your lips by his t-shirt. He let out a surprised hum, but kissed you back immediately, happily tilting his head further. The hand that had rested thus far on your waist roamed your back. You sighed quietly into his eager mouth as his broad hand explored. Scooching closer against him, your tits pressing firmly against his chest. Danny pulled away with a sharp inhale, looking pleasantly flustered. 

He flushed with a bashful grin, “Could get used to that.”

“Definitely…” you nodded, giggling quietly and looking down shyly. 

You felt him mischievously smiling as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Mmmm.”

The music had shifted at some point, clearly one of the Kiszka’s taking over the DJing duties by the sounds of the Denver song diffused into the backyard. The bass no longer thumped obnoxiously, replaced by sweet melodic guitar and harmonies. You took a second to look around, the absurdly romantic atmosphere making you smile. Danny seemed to follow your train of thought, and he too took in the string of lights, the warm breeze puppeteering the trees to the soft brushing of leaves, the stars that painted the late summer sky. 

He took your hand sweetly, hitting you with that intense, romantic look from earlier, and he stood up and faced you. Pulling you up in front of him, he stepped back away from the furniture. Then his other hand found your hip, and he began guiding you in a slow dance. 

God, he was perfect. He had to know, right? That this was the single most romantic moment of your life? You hoped your expression told him exactly how smitten you were.

Swaying you both gently back and forth, his smile grew, watching your eyes twinkle with joy. He lifted his arm above your head, spinning you playfully before holding you close once more. You giggled, resting the hand that he wasn’t holding out to your side against his warm chest. “You know this one?” You asked jokingly, grinning. He hummed, “Heard it once or twice.” 

He swallowed, and took a breath, listening closely for a second, then joining John Denver’s muffled voice. 

“If I had a day that I could give you, I'd give to you a day just like today.

If I had a song that I could sing for you, I'd sing a song to make you feel this way.”

Your knees felt like wet spaghetti, Danny’s low, velvet voice vibrating his chest under your hand as he sang to you. His eyes bore into yours, and he kept swaying you both, even as he dipped down and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

Biting your lip, your eyes met his again, and he smiled bashfully, looking off to the side. You smiled wide, letting your head turn and rest against his chest. Danny’s arm wrapped around your body, holding you in as his other squeezed your hand gently. You squeezed back, eyes closing as you savoured this moment. 

The song came to a close, despite your fervent prayers that it would never end. Danny placed your hand on his shoulder and rested his across the back of your head. His lips gently pressed into your hair, and you shivered. 

“Oh, you cold sweetheart?” he stroked your arm. 

You smiled into his shirt as the next, more upbeat song started. “No, you’re so warm.”

He giggled, “Y’know, it’d be even warmer inside… maybe in my room.”

You pulled away, looking up at him with faux shock and offense. “Daniel,” you gasped playfully. 

He threw his head back, laughing. “God dammit, I was just gonna show you the records I bought on tour,” he implored, and you nodded, giggling, “Oh yeah, gentleman are you?” 

He playfully rolled his eyes, grinning. “Oh, no, that’s code for ‘I wanna smash’, catch up, wouldja?” Pairing the joke with an exaggerated bite of his lip, you snorted, both of you giggling stupidly.

His laugh trailed off with a contented sigh, and he smiled down at you, “So… you wanna go inside with me? Listen to some music, have another drink…” he smirked, his eyes following as he brushed the back of his fingers down your bare arm, “…maybe kiss me some more…?” 

Taking a breath to calm the swirling butterflies, you nodded. “Yeah,” you blushed, grinning, “Sounds nice.”

He raised his brows, smiling excitedly before turning and leading you by the hand out through the yard. Following him through the grass, you glanced up, and smiled wide, tugging Danny’s hand to stop him. He turned, and you pointed at the sky. 

“Look, Capricorn!” His mouth twisted into a sweet smile, just drinking you in for a moment.

He finally followed your gaze upwards, scanning the night sky. “Oh yeah? …wait, where?” 

You pointed again, but he looked over at you and smiled. “Hold on.” He stepped in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist from the back. Your breath stuttered at the affectionate move, and with a shy smile, you leaned your head back against his chest. Danny rested his chin on the top of your head as he scanned the sky. 

“What am I looking for?” he asked softly, and you felt his throat rumbling against the back of your head. 

“Um… okay, you see that really bright one?” you pointed. He nodded, humming. “Well its sort of a wonky triangle, to the left from there,” you giggled, explaining it more and pointing out stars. All you could focus on was the beating of his heart against your back, and his hands interlaced on your stomach as he held you like this.

“You’re so sweet,” he whispered, once you’d finished. You blushed, straining your neck back to grin up at him upside-down. “What do you mean?”

He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead as you closed your eyes. “Just are,” he mumbled against your forehead. Looking back up at the sky, he softly continued, “You remembered my star sign… and you showed me. Nobody’s shown me before.”

You twisted around gently in his arms to face him. He looked down at you, eyes shining with admiration. It made your heart race. 

“Danny…” you fondly admonished, “Course I remember your star sign. My favourite Capricorn.”

He smiled wider, head tilting subconsciously as he leaned closer. “See? So sweet.” His lips connected with yours once more, and you became so consciously aware of how perfectly right you felt. Like the stars that make up the constellations, you fell into place with Danny, forming something beautiful and bigger than yourselves. 

The thought made your throat tighten with happy tears, but you took a slow shaky breath and pulled away, biting your lip through the bright smile you couldn’t hide. 

“D’you know much about astrology?” 

He shook his head, “Nah, not really. You do, though, right?” He looked proud, like your hours of looking up birth charts and zodiac descriptions were not the waste of time you thought. 

You gave a shy ‘so-so’ of your hand, “A bit, it’s okay though, I won’t get into it.”

He furrowed his brow, “Why not?” 

Smiling crookedly, you shrugged, “Just… don’t wanna bore you.” You giggled at his perplexed expression, and he smirked. 

“Excuse you, I wanna learn. C’mon, tell me something far-out, space girl.”

Suddenly scrambling for any shred of information you ever knew, you giggled, rubbing your neck. His sweet, excited smile once again tossed any hope of rational behavior out the window. “Uhh… well, I um… I did your birth chart once…”

His eyes widened slightly, and his hands on your hips pulled you closer. Now front pressed to front, he cocked his head. “Yeah? What can that tell you? Do you know when I’m gonna die or something?” He sarcastically made a spooky face, earning a playful shove and a laugh from you. 

“Yeah, in about ten seconds if you don’t shut up,” you giggled, Danny miming an arrow through his heart with a smile. “It just uhh, tells you the star signs that correspond to each of your planets. Here, I have yours saved actually-“

You pulled out your phone, opening your photos to the album you’d made of Danny-related images. 

He leaned in, practically cheek to cheek as you brought up the birth chart. “So you’ve got your Sun in Capricorn…”

As you listed off his various signs and planets, giving a brief description of what each one meant, Danny’s smile never faltered listening to your voice. He hummed, nodding along, and as you trailed off with a “Soooo… yeah. That’s about all I can tell you…” he pressed a soft lingering kiss to your cheek. 

Your eyes shyly met his. “What was that for?” you softly asked with a smile.

He bit his lip, eyeing your face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered.

You shut your eyes, grinning wider. “You gotta stop that,” you giggled. 

His smiling cheek pressed against yours, “Stop what?”

“Being all cute like that!” You stepped away from him, turning to face him head on. He rolled his eyes dismissively, waving you off with a ‘psshhtt’. Frowning, you shyly brought your hands to rest on his chest. His eyes rested on your hands, then followed up your arms until his gaze met yours. “I mean it. You are, you’re so cute. Always thought so.”

His face flushed pink, and with a cheeky smile, he leaned forward, brushing suddenly against your lips. “Prove it,” he dared in a whisper.

- Part 2 -

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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 14: Assurance

In which Christopher grapples with his desire to be free, and his desire to do the right thing. Contains: 2.9k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Christopher slowly regained his composure as he sat there in silence for a while longer. Danny didn’t interject—the two of them simply stayed that way until Christopher’s heartbeat had finally slowed down, and he felt that he could speak without tears coming to his eyes.

“Danny…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. 

He heard her sigh next to him, quieter than a whisper. “I’m fine, I told you. I mean, I could use a bath. But I’m fine.” 

She paused before she continued, a little more hesitant than before. 

“I mean…I won’t lie to you, Christopher, it was terrifying,” she breathed. “I-I thought I was going to die. I didn’t know what happened to you, either. I thought, when you started hiding away up here, when no one would tell me what was going on…I thought you were dying. And when I saw you like…that,” she muttered, swallowing nervously, “I don’t know. I was worried you weren’t in there anymore.” 

She looked up at him with a softer expression than he’d seen on her before. “But you were. You told me it would be safe. And—god, it was still terrifying, and I felt so claustrophobic and—I’m sorry, it was pretty gross—but I believed you. I trusted you.” A slight grin came to her face. “I’m just glad I’m out.” She laughed. “Hopefully, I won’t have to do that ever again, though.” 

His face fell slightly at that—the grin he’d been thinly holding up wearing away to nothing. 

After she hadn’t run away screaming, he’d dared to consider the possibility of asking Danny for permission, before the week was over. It was something he hadn’t asked of anyone in such a long time, and for the first time, he’d thought that there could be a different answer. That maybe the curse being lifted wasn’t such a far-fetched idea after all. 

That Sam had been right—Danny could be the one to break it. 

She still didn’t know about the spell that held his human form prisoner, and she couldn’t know about it—even if she now knew about his need to consume people, he still couldn’t divulge the details of the curse itself. For him to ask her to endure something so horrific again, so soon after he’d lost control of himself and violated her trust, would be hard to stomach for both of them.

She’d been terrified. He wouldn’t soon forget the way that she’d trembled in his hands, the way she’d cried out as she thought he would kill her.

Please…don’t hurt me, Christopher.

He could lie—he could say that he needed to eat her, so he wouldn’t become a monster again. She wouldn’t know that it would have no effect, to eat the same person after he’d already consumed them, borrowing their humanity to restore his own. She would be more likely to agree to that, if she thought it would help him. He could make it believable. 

His hand eased itself off of her tiny body, and he slumped back to lie on the bed, barely registering how grateful he was that he didn’t have horns to prevent him from lying back fully. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You won’t have to,” he began, nearly cursing himself as he did so. “I can’t eat the same person twice. I mean—” he hastily corrected himself, salvaging what little of a chance he had left, “I can, but…it won’t stop the transformation.” 

It was, objectively, a very stupid decision to say that to her. He didn’t know why he did. He’d effectively closed off his only option to potentially persuade her to be eaten again, hadn’t he? What was he supposed to say now—that he enjoyed it? That he just liked the way she tasted, and could she please be a doll and let him eat her, as a favor between friends? 

He’d just wanted to put her fears to rest. He didn’t want her to be scared of him. 

She sighed, and he could hear the relief in her tone. “That’s…good to know, I guess.” He could feel her get up and hobble unsteadily across the bed. “Though, that means you have to keep finding new people, doesn’t it? That…” He turned to look at her, and she gave him a strange, sympathetic expression. “That kind of sucks.” 

His smile was paper-thin in response, though he found her sympathy somewhat touching. “It does,” he agreed. 

“How…” she bit her lip as the word left it. “How do you…usually find people?” 

He broke his gaze from her and instead stared up at the ceiling. “I used to write letters to anyone I knew, inviting them to my residence. Eventually I ran out of people. Nowadays, I usually have to wait until someone happens to walk by. Sam helps bring them inside.” He glanced back, giving Danny a sorrowful look. “I…hope you don’t hold it against them, that they did that with you. They’re just trying to help me.”

Danny shook her head. “I don’t. Sam’s nice, and I guess you…don’t really have much of a choice.” She gave him an encouraging, if somewhat uncertain smile. “Maybe if I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing.” 

He just stared back at her for a moment, somewhat in disbelief. He’d never received a comment like that from anyone but Sam—certainly never from someone he’d eaten before, who had seen just how awful he could get. No one had ever stuck around to sympathize with him before.

“Maybe,” he said simply, though he managed a grin.

She sat down a little closer to his face, mirroring his position as she laid back on the giant mattress. A bit of sadness hit him as he realized he could no longer smell her like before. It was more than his stomach being sated for now—he’d eaten her, and therefore his body no longer craved her. That tantalizing, powerful scent was absent—and though it had always been something he hated, something that made him feel undeniably like a monster, he didn’t realize until now how much of a comfort Danny’s scent had become to him. 

It felt like he’d lost something precious.

“So,” Danny began after a while, “what now?”

Now you leave, he thought morosely. What else?

He couldn’t keep her another week—there was no more pretense. She knew why he’d made her stay, and that purpose had just played out. She would want to return to her friend. He’d kept her from him long enough.

“I suppose you’d like to be with your friend again, wouldn’t you?” he suggested, trying to keep the sadness from his voice.

“I mean…yeah, I would. I just…I need to know he’s okay. I haven’t even spoken to him in a month. We’ve…we’ve never been apart for so long,” she admitted quietly. 

Christopher slowly sat up, and as he did, his eyes caught on something sitting on his nightstand, catching the light of the full moon outside his window. 

He turned to face Danny, who’d sat up as well. “Would you…like to see him?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “...yeah?”

He reached out to grab the hand mirror, its intricately carved metal cool against his skin. Another “gift” from the enchantress, though he was sure it was just another way to mock him. A one-way window to the outside world. He never could figure out why Sybil would give him a magic artifact like this, if not to exacerbate his isolation by showing him a world he could no longer be a part of.

“This mirror allows me to view anyone in the outside world—it’s magic. Anyone I want to see, I can see by looking into it.”

Danny’s eyes widened, though she gave the object a somewhat scornful gaze. “That’s fucking creepy.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t use it much at all anymore. I used to try to keep up with what went on in the world, but without being able to leave, it started to get…depressing.” 

“Wait…and you didn’t tell me about this sooner?” She huffed, crossing her arms with a slight pout. “I could have checked up on Nathan this whole time!” 

“I told you he was fine,” Christopher insisted gently. “I…I didn’t think I’d be able to explain why he didn’t have any memories of this place, or why he wasn’t looking for you. I thought it might…complicate things,” he admitted. “But this is how I made sure he was alright, and got home safely. I didn’t lie to you about that.” 

She sighed, though she couldn’t seem to argue with him. “Alright, fine. Just let me see him now.” 

He’d been about to ask for Nathan himself—but he got the sudden, inexplicable sensation that Danny should be the one to ask. He felt compelled to lower the mirror to her, and so he did. “I think you should be the one to hold this, dollface.” 

She looked at him like he’d grown another head. “What, are you crazy? That fucking thing is bigger than me.”

He could almost feel his fingers burning beneath the cool metal, guided along by the ties of magic he didn’t fully understand himself. “Just try to put your hands on it.”

She scrunched up her nose at him, but she complied—and the moment her fingers touched the handle, it suddenly shrunk to fit her grip. She almost dropped it onto the mattress in surprise. 

Christopher grinned, though it baffled him just as much to see. “I did say it was a magic mirror, doll.” He nodded on encouragingly. “Now, just ask to see him.”

Danny stared at the mirror’s surface for a moment before she took a deep breath. “Show me Nathan Hayes.” 

The tiny surface of the mirror swirled before it revealed a familiar face. Christopher had to squint somewhat to make out the details at that size, but it was clearly the man who’d found his way to the mansion before Danny.

Nathan was lying in bed, though what should have been peaceful sleep was punctuated by the sound of raspy coughing. Even from Christopher’s point of view, he could see how deathly pale Nathan was, and how weak he looked. The blankets covering him looked worn and thin, barely holding together. Have Danny and her friend really been living like this? 

Danny gasped. “Nate…” She put a hand over her mouth, struggling to hold back tears. “He’s…he’s sick. He needs me. He can’t do everything alone.” 

Christopher’s face fell, his expression stony and distant. It had been a mistake to let Danny see Nathan. He couldn’t ask her to stay longer now, not in good conscience. The fact that she was still here was a miracle—she hadn’t run away screaming. She was the first in a very, very long time. If he could just figure out a way to ask her, if he just had more time, maybe she could be the one to break his curse. Maybe he could be human again.

“You should go to him,” he murmured softly, his voice weighed down heavily with regret as he did so.

Danny turned to look up at Christopher, completely flabbergasted at the suggestion. “You’re…you’re letting me go?”

He paused, daring to meet her eyes. It felt like something inside of him shattered. “If I did, you would leave, wouldn’t you?”

“I…” Danny tilted her head for a moment in confusion. “Well…yeah. There’s people who depend on me. Nathan needs me.” She laughed slightly, as if in an attempt to ease the tension. “I can’t just stay here forever.” 

Christopher nodded absently, unsure of what he could possibly say anymore. Every selfish word felt like it caught on his tongue, and he was forced to swallow it back down. Stay. Please. Even if you don’t break the curse. Even if I’m stuck like this. I don’t want to be alone any more. I need you too, Danny. I need you. 

She placed her little hand against him again, placing the still-tiny mirror down on the bed, its surface returned to normal. 

“I can’t stay, not if Nathan is sick like that. I have…I have responsibilities back home. But I can visit.” 

His eyes slowly widened, and he sat up a little straighter. Hope pierced through the glumness that had overtaken him, like a single ray of light filtering through the drawn curtains of a window. “...you would…come back?” 

Danny nodded slowly. “It has to be lonely as fuck here, if you can’t even leave. Of course I’ll visit. Listen, just give me a week or two to get Nathan back on his feet again, and I’ll come back to see you. How’s that?” 

He smiled, though the hope that had fluttered in his chest died again as quick as it had come. He didn’t have a week. The deadline for his curse would have passed by then—he would be a giant monster for the rest of his life. He’d never be free from that terrible hunger. He’d never get to taste real food again, or dance with a partner his size, or see the outside world for himself. 

But…if he had someone to keep him company, who didn’t care that he was a giant, or that he had a set of grotesque horns atop his head, or even that he had to consume living beings just to maintain what little humanity he had left, then perhaps the curse wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could accept this neverending penance if he had a friend to bear it with. 

A friend. He could hardly believe it, after what he’d done, that he still felt worthy enough to call her that.

“I…I haven’t had a visitor in a long time,” he admitted.

Danny returned his weak smile with a sprightly grin of her own. “Well then, you’d better get your guest room ready for next time. Maybe help Sam dust off some stuff, they can’t be doing everything around here.” 

He laughed slightly. “That’s kind of their job, you know.” 

Danny rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, well, you could probably stand to do some work yourself. I know you’ve got plenty of time on your hands.” 

She looked up at him, with only the slightest hint of uncertainty in her features. “Can I…can I leave in the morning, then?”

Christopher closed his eyes as he nodded solemnly. “Yes. I’ll make sure Sam prepares some supplies for your trip before you go. And…” he glanced down at the mirror, questioning something in his head. “You should take that with you,” he said, gesturing towards it with a slight incline of his head.

Danny’s eyebrows scrunched together as she realized what he was talking about. “The mirror? Are you…sure?”

He nodded. “That way, you can find your way back. This place, it…it can be hard to find, because of the magic surrounding it. The mirror will help you.” 

Anyone who had previously known about him or his residence and bothered to make their way here had met the same fate—consumed, memories erased, and sent on their way. People who didn’t remember him or his manor never found it again, always getting turned around or passing right by it without a second glance. Danny would retain her memories, but with the unpredictable nature of Sybil’s magic, he didn’t want to take any chances.

He knew from his brief glimpses into the lives of the people he once entertained—Christopher Penn, the human noble, was missing, likely dead. But it hadn’t taken long for people to stop talking about him, to disregard the anomaly that was his sudden departure from society and focus on any other passing topic of interest—helped along by the fact that most of them magically couldn’t recall him at all. He was no more interesting than the state of this year’s crops, or the next lover’s scandal. All that time and effort he’d spent to remain relevant and maintain his reputation had been for nothing. 

It was part of why he’d stopped using the mirror. It had been hard to watch as his entire life flickered out of existence slowly, like the dying embers of a fire fading to nothing and blown away as ash in the wind. 

Danny took the mirror gingerly in her hands again, staring at it in confusion. “And...how is this thing supposed to help me find—”

“You’re going to VISIT?” 

Danny nearly dropped the mirror as Sam’s voice floated out from it, brimming with excitement. She laughed. “You fucking scared me. Yes, I want to come back, eventually.” 

“Um…you’re not going to come back this week, are you?” Sam was trying hard to mask their dejected tone. They couldn’t tell Danny about the curse’s deadline either, but they were skirting quite close to it. “Because that would be, uh, pretty cool.” 

Danny shook her head—oblivious to the reason Christopher and Sam were both hoping she would be back sooner. “No, I need to take care of Nathan, and everything around the house. I’ve been gone for too long. But I’ll be back. I promise.” She smiled warmly first at the mirror, and then up at Christopher. 

He could feel that warmth in each slow beat of his heart.

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. It was clear they wanted to try and convince Danny to stay somehow, but they weren’t going to go against Christopher—not this time. “Well, it’ll be real nice to see you again, Danny. I’m…I’m happy you want to come back.” Sam’s voice, though tinged with sadness, was genuine. “Anyways, I guess this mirror counts as an extension of the house or something, because I can possess it even when it’s outside the house. Which means I can come with you outside! In spirit or whatever, anyways. You just gotta ask, and I’ll be there.” 

Danny tilted her head before she grinned. “Well that’s…handy.” She looked up to Christopher again, bowing her head slightly. “I appreciate it.” 

Christopher smiled, having effectively buried all of his disappointment far beneath the surface. “Of course, doll. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

For once, he felt assured that the person who would be leaving his house would return—not as some unwilling captive, or a means to an end, but as a friend. And with that knowledge, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he thought he knew what it was to feel truly, fully satisfied, even as the beginnings of hunger began to slither back into the deepest part of him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Next chapter ->

I'm going to be taking a mid-story break here, but hopefully it won't be too long! Just gotta hammer out the next few chapters, because we're approaching the climax, baby! Don't worry, this isn't the end...

Let's just say not EVERYONE has forgotten about Christopher.

But thank you for reading, and I'll see you again in another week or two!

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Flower Child

For: @murphy-kitt @a-closet-emo @majorastudios @lovelyunknown @nocturna-starr @dekalko-mania

Maddie’s trying to sort through things, her son be Phantom things, but it isn’t going so well; and trying to figure things out more only makes things bloom into something worse

Maddie was… going through some things right now. On one hand she was immensely thankful to finally, finally, have answers for a lot of her worries and confusions. On the other hand though… finding out your child, the little kid you made and raised and loved, was dead was… unpleasant at best. If he wasn’t okay with it then she’s not sure she would have been able to handle it at all; but he seemed to love it, preferred it even. That was odd to think about all on its own, but she was still glad for it. Hearing how he died had been a hard conversation, one that she still felt rather guilty about, but it really was needed. The rift in the family had gotten pretty bad and her and Jack knew Danny was hiding something; and he was paranoid about them, he couldn’t trust or even like them without knowing they accepted him. And she does, she accepts him, loves him. It’s just… hard. He’s half dead and he fights otherworldly dead powerhouses; the ghosts he picked fights with or even just insulted are ones that would leave any ghost hunter -or human really- shaking in their boots or begging for a quick death. It was hard to watch and hard to sleep knowing he was out there getting thrown into concert and punch literal gods. But he didn’t want them worrying about him and he made it very clear that he absolutely wouldn’t stop; with his protective Obsession she’s fairly sure he would actually get sick if he did stop, but she knows it’s also just his personality and him being far more combative than she had ever realised.

That boy loved to fight.

It was probably for the best for everyone, it gave him a purpose that he truly enjoyed and could handle (even if she had to keep reminding herself of that fact), it kept their ghost infested town safer, and it gave FentonWorks a for-sure future heir. She was still going to worry. She was a mother, how couldn’t she?

Then there was the simple fact that Danny just wasn’t entirely human and acted and thought that way. He had been a bit odd before they knew, but after he told them he kind of gave up on hiding his less human behaviours. Her heart would still sped up a bit when he’d just walk through a wall or pull something out of a wall without a second thought; it was second nature to him to just phase through things. She was also a lot more aware of the fact that he’d usually invisibly stick his head into their room to check on them after his patrols, which was more touching than it really had any right to be; especially since it was partly him being protective and possessive of them in a very ghostly way. The floating and lack of footsteps was not nearly as unnerving as most people would probably think, but she’s a ghost hunter so her perception is probably pretty skewed. At least him ecto-beaming or freezing stuff when he got annoyed wasn’t much different than Jack inevitably blowing something up. The growling, hissing, and inhuman body movements were a lot more unsettling though; it just ticked that part in her brain that recognised ghosts and their behaviour as predatory and dangerous. It was taking a while to unlearn that and not at least wince when he’d be snarling and baring his teeth at the microwave for not working for the millionth time.

She thinks that maybe if she’d know early on and had gotten exposed to each new ghostly thing about him over years instead of months, this would be easier. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz barely even bat an eye at any of it. Heck! She’s seen Danny shoot Tucker in the face and the other teen had merely blinked to shield his eyes. He laughed about it after wiping his face off. They don’t see anything weird or unsettling or disturbing about his behaviour or powers, she couldn’t say the same and she feels like a failure as a mother because of it. It didn’t help that it felt like they were all just… expecting her to instantly be okay and fond of it all. Well, except Danny, which she didn’t actually like. She could tell that he’d have to make a point to not knee jerk cover up or hide or get embarrassed over his behaviour or power usage. The way he’d eye her and Jack before using some particular power the first, second, or third time. Or like his ghostly behaviour was going to get him shot at when he realised they’d seen/noticed it; that reaction was only worse if he actually noticed her unease or that she’d been startled. He was mostly good at just being himself now, even if she was still hung up on things. She’d honestly rather he just yell at her to ‘get her shit together’. But she’d get there, she’s sure of it. Especially because she knows in her gut that he hasn’t told her or Jack everything. It wouldn’t make sense if he had. Danny was starting them off small, that would be the logical thing to do; or at least he was leaving the ‘harder to swallow’ or darker things for later. She’s definitely positive that he’s understated a few of his fights, and outright hasn’t mentioned more serious ones. She had to hear from Jazz that he actually did fight Pariah, one on one, and nearly died. Maddie had half the mind to try and force him to never pick fights alone again, but she knows that wouldn’t work out both because he wouldn’t follow that and because he got into fights that it just wasn’t safe for anyone to tag along with him.

His power alone was worrying and frightening. Because of the fights he fought, the power he had to keep in check, even just the types of ghosts that wanted to talk to him; that and if he went too far or decided he was doing something no matter what, no one would be able to stop him.

Part of her worried a little that he planned on never telling them about anything more dark or dangerous, which she could understand but still didn’t like. That meant she had to take the incitive and try to find out herself; that way she could find out and process whatever it was without her son seeing any kind of reaction that he didn’t want to see/was afraid of. Though snooping his room was probably not the best idea and he’d probably be unhappy about it, that and she knows he stores stuff very literally inside of the walls; reasonably she knows that’s where anything more informative, or horrifying, might be.

So armed with a wall scanner she looks, finding weapons isn’t remotely surprising and she knows there’s a weapon or two in basically every wall of the house. Maddie’d like to argue that it would make more sense to hang them on the wall instead of inside so anyone can grab them, but the reason her and Jack hadn’t already been doing that was the simple fact that someone -most likely Jack- might knock them off of the wall and accidentally fire them; which with a half ghost in the house would be even more risky. There was a very big difference between a human getting shot in the face by an ecto- bazooka and someone who’s half ectoplasm getting shot in the face with an ecto-bazooka.

The… concerning amount of fresh and used medical supplies is a different story though. It was a bit biohazardous and made her insides squeeze at the implications. She knew Danny got hurt a lot and that he usually sorted out his own wounds, but actually seeing the -horrifically mishandled- end result of that wasn’t pleasant. Yes he could regrow limbs and reform broken bones, but he still had to patch it up to let it heal… and he still got the injuries in the first place. She should get him a biohazards bin, so he at least doesn’t destroy the insides of the walls with all of it. Probably the only reason he hadn’t asked for one or just taken one was him trying to not remind them about his frequent injuries. But the last thing Maddie wanted was him hiding a serious injury instead of coming to them for help or even just letting them know; she’s positive Jack’s hugged him when he had a broken rib or two before. She’s not going to try cutting the medical stuff out of the wall to look through it though, she does trust him to tell them if he needs different medical care/treatment than a human… or ghost for that matter. He’s been pretty good about that so far, even if it was clear he had been practically forcing himself to explain core-related and Obsession-related health; ghosts, including Danny, were instinctively afraid to expose that stuff.

What does catch her eyes is the notebooks, she knows Danny and his friends have run tests on his powers and their limits; and their note taking abilities, based on what she saw in their ghost files, were pretty good. And well, him hiding dangerous powers from her was something she was a bit more paranoid about. It would be extremely reassuring if it turns out he hasn't, and if it turns out he has then she’ll just have to assure him that she’s okay with it. It’s not like she wasn’t aware that he was dangerous, so if it turns out he does have one or a few exceptionally dangerous powers then that doesn’t really change anything.

Thankfully she’s able to get at them by just jimmying the windowsill and snaking a grabber tool down; it was almost as if he wanted her to be able to get them out if she just took the time to look. She was probably reading too far into it.

Taking the time to check his bed to make sure there’s nothing hidden under blankets she might accidentally sit on before sitting down. As curious as she is she makes a point to be careful, she’d feel awful if she wrecked one especially since she’s doing this without Danny’s permission. Some appear to be notes on ghost culture, which she’d rather hear from Danny himself. Some are just his general thoughts, opinions, or reminders to himself; which she’s not reading, she can at least respect his privacy that much. One’s a self expirement log, which she is extremely not okay with. She… can’t blame him for deciding to do that, there wasn’t really any other way for him to learn about his body, but it was still not okay. Her and Jack would probably do the same in his situation, but they certainly wouldn’t do it alone or with the level of risk Danny seemed to be okay with. There’s even a little side note about him forgetting a scalpel in his leg after dissecting it… with a (lol) bubble written next to it. If this wasn’t about her son and done to him by himself, she’d be incredibly curious and would want to pour over it. Maybe… she’ll ask Danny if that’s something they can do together. That way he can explain himself, and she can glare at him with enough feeling to get her disapproval across; while also going over his research in earnest and satisfying curiosities. Plus, she knows that some of this might be actually important for him to know.

But she does find what she was really looking for: the notes on his powers. Yes, she knows most of those she’s sure, but she’s looking specifically for what she doesn’t know. It is interesting being reminded just how many powers he has and how strong those powers are. It makes her feel nervous about him all over again, especially seeing how every power he has has grown in strength from whatever it was first recorded as. An 160 m/s flight speed, increased to around 370 m/s; a little baffling still but it still made her smile finally knowing that his flight was how he managed to get around so quickly. She had tried to stick a gps on him when she’d grounded him one time and had thought the thing was broken. Other things were just endurance increases, which was expected; it would be weird if his endurance hadn’t increased. He’d definitely understated how impressive his cyrokinesis was though, he could trap at least half of America in a perpetual snow storm if he felt like it. Maybe she should asking him about the ice sculpting? If it’s a hobby of his then she’d love to see a little; and seeing him use or work with his powers in a very non-threatening and innocent way would certainly make her more comfortable.

Apparently he really needed some help with his duplication and telekinesis, there was an honestly impressive amount of mishaps and utter failures written down. The little -clearly annoyed- side note about how the other halfas ‘stupid ass’ had no trouble with this and that he needed to get his own act together, was definitely surprising. Danny hadn’t mentioned any other halfas… but she guesses him being completely unique would be rather unlikely. Maybe he was protecting their identities? Did she know them? Was he just going to wait for permission from them to say anything? She could understand that. Arguably him having someone to compare himself to and relate to was a very good thing, hopefully they’re nice. She’s pretty sure she’s never even seen him use telekinesis as Phantom before, so he must be really bad at it; which does make her smile a little. It was nice seeing that he wasn’t this perfect all powerful godly ghost, and that he wasn’t alone with the way that he was.

Him being able to create portals and having pyrokinesis is a little unexpected. With how strong he is she’s not really surprised he can make portals, even if it looks like it takes a lot of ectoplasmic energy to do. Maybe he didn’t tell them because he was worried they’d want to take advantage of that to have him make portals for them? Which… she did kind of want to do but she’s not foolish enough to think he’d be okay with that. Besides, if her or Jack want to go to or research the Ghost Zone they’re going to use their own portal; their life’s work. Plus, the last thing she’d want to do is ask him to use up a bunch of his energy only for him to have to run off to a fight on a partly empty tank; she’d feel awful about that and that would be seriously mean of her to do to him. The pyrokinesis seemed newer, so maybe he was still trying to figure it out first; she couldn’t blame him for that.

So far she’s pretty okay with this. What he didn’t mention seemed reasonable and what he’d understated could easily just be him trying to ease them in slowly. It makes her breath a bit easier and smile or laugh more at all the little notes. Danny liked to add little side notes about his general mishaps. From apparently being able to shoot ecto-beams from his butt but refusing to on principle, to the ridiculously vast ways he’s accidentally destroyed his shoes (some how nearly every power had, at some point, destroyed his shoes).

The little section on his ghost zone lair related powers, like being able to manipulate colours or shapes, was a reminder on how he thought different. The notes don’t make a lot of sense and are kind of hard to follow. Even when he’d tried explaining things to her and Jack verbally, it didn’t make a lot of sense; he just couldn’t explain it in a way that made sense to the human mind. Sam and Tucker even left little scribbles telling him the notes didn’t make sense; which had angry faces doddled next to them. That was kind of nice to see. Even Sam and Tucker didn’t completely get everything, and Danny didn’t seem to mind them saying as much.

Then she flips to multiple pages that are all in ghost speak, ominous.

Alright, she’s got a few options here. Either she can leave it alone, it being in ghost speak clearly means Danny doesn’t want it being read… by the living at least. Or she could just ask him to open up to her and tell her, but that would rather defeat the purpose of all of this. Or she could get their translation manual, it wasn’t perfect but she could get an idea. Translating ghost speak was another of her and Jack’s life long projects, the language was very difficult since when spoken it was just scratching, warbles, squeaks, static, clicks, and shrieking; and when written was squiggles, scratches, and dots. No living language was similar and ghosts all naturally knew it so there was no ‘learn to speak ghost’ ghost books to potentially find and study. Danny himself had made comments about attempting to teach Tucker and Sam some of the language with little success… meaning they knew how to swear and that was it. Granted Danny had only tried teaching them to speak it, which Maddie’s pretty sure isn’t actually humanly possible. Reading it was a different matter all together.

… Yeah, she’s decoding this. She’s come this far, might as well see it through. Nodding to herself before going to go get their manual; she won’t be able to figure out any more unique or complicated words but it should hopefully be enough.

Coming back up and setting it down, part of her was excited to see how good she’ll be at this, the other part was just plain ol’ nervous.

…

‘These are things I ____ I ____ ____, as _____________ as it is. I ____ let this, him, _______ me and that ______ with ______ ______ and mine.

__________ One- Limitat____

I have _______ to test the limitat____ of the wail. It’s ______ to me, as ________, so I’m in the ____ with it. It’s an __________ powerful _______ even by _____ ghost _________. I dont know if I _________ it out of _________ or not, or if the wail will ______ more powerful _________ on power _____/ecto-_____, use, or my age. For now, I'm ________ to take some _________ in the fact that it’s not as ______ as his.

______ this experi____, I have done multi___ _________ test_ to see what my wails limitat____ are, each with a ____ _______ for rest and ________; I’m not trying to knock myself out on some ______ _________ island or make myself ______ to fight. Talk about a _______ move.

Test one- body sap

I _______ know I can go for a while _______ air, but the wail makes it __________ to _______ during use. This ________ with the _____ power ________ makes me light ______ after about forty-five _______; risk___ _______________ after three minutes. Minor head____ and thirst, also come into play. My skin starts getting dry and all my _______ begin to ____. If I push it my eyes get ______ and my blood ________ goes low. I _________ to do ________ drawn out wails like this but _____ up need___ an ecto __. Not fun.

(Note: ________ liter. test___ has shown that my wail is not __________ to a ______, the more I use it the more I can ______ it. It _________ makes me feel more ___________ with it but I’d still ______ never use it).

Test two- ecto _____________

_________ it takes about twelve _______ for a ________ ghost above ecto level ______ to _______ from using a _______ _______ power, _________ it takes me four times that and even less if I’m not eat___ or ________ enough. Even with stay___ on top of my bodily needs as much as ________ in order to help __________ my ecto-_____________, it still takes at least three days to fully _______ from using my wail until I ______ pass out. The wail _______ needs far more power than what I’m _________ able to give it and is ________ going past my natural ________ ______; this will __________ ______ as I grow strong__. To be test__ _______ later. (Note: _______ test does _______ that more ecto-______ = short__ ________ time, but it’s still above any ________ time of any of my other powers).

Test three- ___________ _________

As much as I don’t like it, this power is _________ ___________. I need to know the ______ of that and how to ______ I can __________ control my ______ to avoid _________ damage. Even with _______ energy ______ and only using it for one full ______ the wail easily ___________ an acre of trees and tears up the ground. I _______ I will have to active__ suck in some of the ______ I’m out put____ to make this less danger___. At _______ ______ that I can handle I’m stuck reform___ what I can of the ______, and hoping no one saw that with a _____ or something. This is just too danger____. (Note: I’ve since _______ out how to ‘suck in’ some of the ______, it has a ________ to it and my body just wants to let the ______ lose. This power remains ___________).

Test four- Area Of ______

My _____ for _____ of the wail is ______ three ____sand and forty five acres, and will __________ increase more. The ________ destruct___ zone is around seven hundred acres. My small___ ________ area of ______ is two and a half acres.

Test Five - Pig _____

One of the most _________ thing_, I think, is know___ what ______ the wail has on a living body; or would have on a living body pig body if it was still alive. It’s __________ to know that at any point ______ the ________ destruct___ zone the pig is at the least comple____ ripped apart, to vapor____ at the most. If anyone ________ this attack head on they__ die, use in civil___ areas is an ________ no. Even at the ____ of the ________ destruct___ zone the pig ___tains ___v_ ___figure____ and ________ organs are ______ly damage_. Just outside of the ________ destruct___ zone result_ in more minor damage, likely ________ and potent___ for __________.

Test Six - Mental Affect

Sam and Tuck _________ feel___ ______ ______ the battle, so I thought there might be a mental ______ to the wail; _____________ the only way to test this was to ask them to list__ to it. A sound _________ of the wail at max cause_ ______ and a _________ of stomach knot_; mild head____ after a while. A sound _________ at my min____ only causes slight __________ after ____long__ listen___. Nearby enough to hear in person at minimum ______ causes feel____ of terror, stomach flipp___, panic, sweat___, strong ______, and there__ an ___________ ______ to get away from the sound.  Takes at least five minute_ to _______ from. Decide_ test___ at _______ ______ was too risky. Will not be retest___.’

Maddie frowns a little, she didn’t really like the sounds of any of that. It seemed like it actually was about a power that Danny considered dangerous and outright didn’t use for that reason. Some sort of wail from what she can decipher, which likely has a more proper name. From the sounds of it it’s very hard on him physically and uses up a large amount of ecto-energy in a very short amount of time, way more than any powers normally should; which is a little concerning, maybe he was having difficulties with it because it wasn’t compatible with his halfa body? He has issues controlling it or how strong it is, she thinks, and it’s incredibly destructive. Taking out an entire acre of trees and ground with what she’s guessing is his weakest version of it was ridiculously dangerous; and it seems like this power had a range into the thousands of acres. Then there’s him commenting that he’d literally kill someone if he used it on them and it freaked people out to hear it.

She can’t not ask him about this. If he does have something this dangerous, that he doesn’t like and can’t really control, her and Jack need to know about it. Maybe they can help? Either with better practice, pointers, or even just making him more comfortable with the power; emotions had an effect on ghosts and Danny was no exception, his ice was a great example of that since he’d chill rooms when he got moody. The fact that this power had gotten stronger just like all his others only reinforced her opinion.

Should she approach the topic with notebook in hand? Or try to play it off like there’s been rumours about a wail power? Or just ask if there’s any powers he hasn’t mentioned yet along with assuring him it’s fine if whatever power is dangerous? With the first he’ll be upset she went through his stuff and read his notebooks, with the second she’d be flat out lying to his face, and the third would just come off as seriously manipulative if he doesn’t just agree right off the bat. In short, all her options here kind of sucked, but she backed herself into this situation so she’s got to deal with it. Honestly? She was hoping not to find anything out just to calm her mind about him and his halfa everything. Maybe if she just tells him that? If he knows that she’s really genuinely coming from a place of concern and working towards getting used to him as he actually truly is. Yeah that was her best bet.

Nodding to herself, putting back all of the other notebooks before heading downstairs; getting started on supper was a good idea and after that? She’ll wait.

---

But as soon as Danny comes through the door, looking haggard and freaked, she’s immediately second guessing her plan; slipping the notebook under some paper towel as she heads over to him. “Danny? Sweetie? Are you okay?”.

Danny runs a hand through his hair, eyeing her quickly before looking back to the ground and grumbling, “fucking no?”. The swearing makes her frown but she just waits for him to continue, she knows he will. Danny could talk a mile a minute for hours when he felt like it. He doesn’t even give her a chance to chastise him even if she had planned to. “Red freaking found out about me”, and mutters a bit in ghost speak.

Alright. Okay. She definitely understood him freaking out and stressing over someone, especially a ghost hunter, finding out about him. The Red Huntress did tend to be pretty friendly with Phantom him though so maybe it wasn’t so bad. “Is she being mean about it? Threatening to expose you or anything? She’s not following you around is she? Attacking you?”.

He gives her a weird confused look, “what? No!”, before blinking and moving to slump down on the couch, “shit sorry, Red wouldn’t really hurt me, not like that”, he sighs and throws her through a bit of a loop, “I know who she is under the mask and we’re kinda friends, and that’s kinda the problem because holy goddamn Ancients”.

Wait. What? Him knowing who she is isn’t… too surprising. Hiding your identity from someone who could be around invisibly at any given moment and had a very strong sense of smell and hearing, was practically impossible. The ‘kinda friends’ tells her that his human self must be friends with the girl under the helmet, so Maddie could see her being incredibly upset with him not telling her especially when he knew her identity. “So she’s mad you didn’t tell her about yourself when you knew about her? Or Danny Fenton didn’t tell his friend that he knew about her hunting?”. She’s not going to ask who she is, it wasn’t really necessary and clearly Danny wasn’t a fan of revealing others identities based on there being other Halfas he never mentioned.

Danny runs a hand through his hair, nodding slowly, “yeah, yeah. Fuck. She’s really mad about that and maybe shot me in the face and then punched me in the face for it. But, like-”, gesturing a bit ridiculously, “-I knew she was going to find out, since she already knows about halfas and my secret kinda hinges on people not knowing halfas are a real possible thing. So it was absolutely just a matter of time, but oh my Ancients. There is way too much bullshit between us for this to not be insanely complicated and a pain in the ass”, he then gets up and starts pacing, “we’ve basically fought wars together, I revealed her to her dad when she could have done the same to me, and if I had just fucking told her she definitely wouldn’t have done the whole few hour torture session thing, and she wouldn’t have been completely fooled for so long by a psycho, and then there’s Elle. Then of course there’s the whole us thing and shit would have been or currently would be totally fucking different-”.

Maddie crosses her arms a bit and leans against the wall as he just keeps on going, honestly he seemed more upset about Red finding out about him than his own parents. She’s actually a little bothered by that, they were his parents, whom he lived with; and there was the simple fact that her and Jack were definitely more ectophobic than Red ever has been. Yes Red was extremely violent but Maddie and Jack have literally debated dissecting him to his face… which she of course felt really terrible about now. Yes he had been nervous telling them but he hadn’t freaked out like this. “She’s your friend though, why is this so bad? Or so complicated?”, frowning a little, “you weren’t this upset over us knowing”.

Danny looks at her like she’s nuts, which definitely upsets her a bit. “Mom, no. Just no”, shaking his head aggressively, “you guys are so much easier and simpler. Living with you guys I can see your reactions or lack of reactions every day, she just flew off into the goddamn sunset and I have no idea how she’s taking this other than her assaulting me!”, gesturing dismissively, “which yeah, she’s an aggressive person so I’m not really worried about that, but I’d really like to know if I’m going to get bombed in the future as payback or if she’s taking this really not well”, pointing at Maddie, which she tries to not find incredibly rude, “and even though she was violent Red and Phantom had a working friendship and work relationship, which is definitely completely fucked up now. And the whole Danny Fenton is a sweet innocent boy thing is really really fucked now, so she’s definitely feeling horrifically betrayed. You guys have literally known me my whole life, so you’re not out here wildly confused and pissed off over the possibility of me not being me or the me you thought was me or whatever”, rubbing his neck and looking around, “and sure there was the whole ‘we want to dissect and torture you’ thing with you guys but due to a bit of time travel and memory manipulation I knew you guys wouldn’t actually do it and would accept things, don’t have that with her. Plus, and no offence, Red is a far better hunter than you guys and has actually talked to ghosts in a friendly way who have all basically lied to her face about me”, and then he crosses his arms, “and then there’s the whole I kinda ruined her life as Phantom and then just turned around and befriended her as Fenton, which in retrospect was really fucked up to do”.

Maddie rubs her forehead, that… was kind of messed up of him but still, “okay yes you clearly have a history with her here, but Danny”, gesturing at him, “you have way more with us”.

Danny instantly snapping, “not really, no”, and promptly wincing.

Look, Maddie knows her and Jack haven’t been the greatest parents and that they were maybe less involved and attentive than they should have been, by they were still his parents. “We’re your parents, that doesn’t even makes sense. We’ve literally known you your whole life!”.

“I mean sure yeah, but you haven’t been to space with me; the last time you listened to me ramble about stars was when I was freaking ten. Half of the time she’d bring me my favourite drink for tag team hunts because she goddamn memorised it! I’m sorry but as a family we’re just not close as a family like that, and that is not just because of me hiding my bullshit!”, growling a little, “she didn’t know about me because I hid it yeah, but she was actively trying to know. You guys weren’t. You guys don’t get to be assholes to me or be super upset about me, because you didn’t really care! She fucking did!”.

“That’s not true!”.

Danny sticks his hands out to the side, “how?! How is that not true? Yeah sure we went on bonding trips and things where you guys tried to get to know me or be close to me but you weren’t doing that because you genuinely wanted to know me! You just felt like you were being bad parents”, huffing and staring a bit, “it’s the same with you guys pussyfooting around me and trying to not be bothered by me being a freaky half ghost, which while I appreciate, you’re doing that because you feel bad that I couldn’t trust you because you were bad parents. You feel bad because you fucked up! She didn’t fuck up! After the point where we became friends in both my forms she never gave me a reason not to tell her. You guys never gave me a reason to tell you, I just didn’t want our family relationship to go completely to shit”.

Maddie is plain baffled by that, “do you want us not trying to get used to you?! To how you’ve changed?!”.

“Getting used to and pretending to be okay with are not the same damn thing. You can’t just pretend your way into acceptance! Jazz would go on some rant about how repressing things doesn’t work and she’d probably be right!”, huffing and crossing his arms, “be bothered by shit and then work on it. Do you think I-”, smacking his hands into his chest, “-was okay with this at first?! Fuck no! But I had to put up with myself. You guys are tolerating things yes, but you’re not actively trying to be exposed to my bullshit. That’s not trying. And you guys weren’t already all buddy buddy with Phantom, you were tolerant and nothing more. You only like Phantom now because you know he’s me! But she was already accepting! Already friendly with all of me. And I might have just fucked that up! I am allowed to be bothered by that and you being annoyed I’m more bothered by her suddenly finding out is fucking bullshit!”, rubbing his forehead and taking a breath, “look I get that you guys have a lot, like a lot, of bigotry to work through, but that bigotry has always been my biggest concern with you guys. I knew you would still see me as your son and love me and everything. But with her that love and seeing me as a friend is my biggest concern and I care a crap ton more about that. She knows and accepts me as a friend already and I don’t want to risk or lose that. She knows me and likes what’s there!”.

“Like she knows all your stories and opinions?!? Or all the powers I know you haven’t mentioned?!? Your wail and everything else?!? Your more upset over her because you’ve actually told her everything?!? Danny how can we actually accept you the way you want us to if you don’t tell us”.

He throws his hands out again, “you need to initiate it! Not me!After everything, I don’t owe you that! Especially because I’m your son. And-”, he blinks and drops his arms, just staring blankly at her, speaking back up flatly and concerningly calm, “how do you know about that”; the rooms temperature drops a couple degrees.

Maddie glares at him, storming back into the kitchen, grabbing the notebook, and coming back out. Basically throwing it at his chest, “I looked, Danny. Because I knew you went telling us everything! I guess I was trying! Like you want!”. Neither moves for a beat until Maddie goes wide-eyed a bit, realising that was probably the worst thing she could have done here. She violated his privacy, and probably his trust, and just threw it in his face. Putting a hand over her mouth, “oh Danny! I- I’m so sorry!”, bending down to quickly pick it back up and just standing there holding it with a pinched expression.

Danny’s eyes flash green at her and he all but snatches the notebook out of her hands, growling, “that wasn’t for you to read”, but surprisingly he closes his eyes and takes a big breath, when he opens them again they aren’t green anymore and he doesn’t growl when he speaks… his tone’s still harsh and vibrates a little though, “that wasn’t in English”.

Maddie blinks at him and tries to ignore the way the air feels a little suffocating and chilly, it effectively kills nearly all her anger though, “we've… been working to decipher the language”.

“Out of curiosity or to understand me”.

Maddie gulps, “the first”. She knows damn well that isn’t the ‘right’ response.

Danny snorts and rolls his eyes, “of course”.

Maddie crosses her arms and glances away from him, “we started working on that before we knew”.

“Oh”, Danny blinks and she can tell he’s rubbing his neck even if she’s not looking at him, “sorry then. But… why did you have this down here”, the growl comes back a little, “you couldn’t even put it back”.

Sighing, she looks back to him, “I… I was planning to ask you about it, when you got home”. That almost felt dumb now.

Danny groans and facepalms, “and then I came home like an angry tornado, when you were already feeling a type of way ‘cause you found out stuff you probably didn’t like”, grumbling, “I really suck at this stuff”.

Maddie shakes her head and somewhat stiffly but tiredly moves to sit on the couch, “no, no. I shouldn’t have yelled at you”, sighing, “I’m mad you’re more bothered by just a friend finding out about you over your own parents, over us. But I guess you’re right it’s not really fair”, rubbing her legs and trying to give him a little smile, “and I’m glad you yelled at me, I think we both needed it and it’s better than you being awkward and cringing over everything and tiptoeing”.

“Well you guys not pushing sure made it seem like tiptoeing is what you wanted”, and then he cringes and shakes his head, “sorry”.

She shakes her head, “it’s fine, I guess we’ve just never been good at communicating as a family; one of us not thinking and feeling things entirely humanly just complicating things more, not that that’s a bad thing just different”, sighing again, “so you want to talk about it? I’m trying and maybe it can be a distraction for you since you’re upset about Red”.

He blinks at her, and makes a bit of face, “mom. That is the last thing I want to talk about. To anyone. Jazz has been trying for years to get me talk about that, you’re not getting me there in a freaking afternoon”, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes, coughing a little, “and that’s the last thing I want to even think about after Red finding out about me. Oh Ancients”.

After everything she can’t just not try. “Why?”.

He glares at her, “mom. No”.

She gestures at him, “do you want me to try or not, Danny. I’m trying here”.

Danny sticks an arm out to the side, “I don’t even talk to Sam and Tuck about that. Just because I’m opening up to you about all this and you’re trying to learn about me, that doesn’t give you an all access pass to interrogate me about everything and anything you want”.

Maddie opens her mouth but closes it again, swallowing a little, “Sam and Tucker don’t know?”. That… she should be worried about that, right? She… thought they knew everything.

Danny huffs, “they know but not because I told them, we don’t talk about it. Can you drop it now”.

“But-”.

“No”, him growling a little, “I’m not talking with you about it. I’m not showing you it. Nothing. Leave that alone”.

Maddie stands up again, this is just ridiculous and it can’t be healthy. Jazz must not think it was if she keeps trying to get him to talk about it himself. “What if talking actually helps or we can help you figure out better control or-”.

“Mom stop”.

“-didn’t you just say not to ignore things?!”.

“This is different!”.

“How Danny?!? From what I read you have issues with controlling it and it’s dangerous! That makes it even worse to ignore than me and your father not knowing what to do with everything! Maybe you need to talk about it! I don’t know, you won’t tell me! What if you hurt someone or yourself! I know I’m being pushy but come on Danny!”.

And then she feels like she’s said something she shouldn’t have again, and his eyes flash green again. Him growling and baring his teeth at her, “this power was literally used to kill people! You think I don’t know that it’s dangerous! I-”, he cuts himself off, “oh fuck”, Danny puts a hand against the wall and his rings suddenly come out; face twisting up in discomfort.

And now Maddie’s panicking a little bit. Does talking about it active this power? Or is she upsetting him so much that his more combat oriented half is forcing itself to the surface? Or does talking about this actively hurt him? Was it like with his Obsession and Core? Something his body was aggressively and instinctively secretive about? She really should have thought of that! What should she do?! She makes something of a decision when he slides down the wall and crouches on his ankles, one hand on the wall and the other over his mouth; fully in ghost form now while she moves over and down to him. Putting her hand on his shoulder, “Danny! Are you alright?!? I’m sorry”, swallowing, “is this something you can’t talk about? You should have started wi-”.

He interrupts her, gagging a little, “would you please”, gagging some more, “shut up. It’s not that-”; and he starts coughing violently into his hand. Eyes squeezing shut and tearing up, coughing and hacking more; it sounded like his lungs and throat were literally tearing themselves apart.

Meaning that now Maddie’s even more worried and panicked. She knows he has a high pain tolerance, for him to be showing signs of pain like this it can’t be good. She doesn’t even know what’s happening! Or why! She’d get him water if it didn’t look like he’d just cough it up! She hates that she feels like she caused this, even if she thinks he was saying she didn’t. She’s stuck here, with him shaking as tears streak down his cheeks, and all she can do is grip his shoulder in a way that she hopes is comforting or soothing or anything to help; the fact that she can tell he’s furrowing his brows in a way that screams he’s worried or concerned is deeply worrying. She gets why in a second though, as she sees what he’s hacking up. Flowers and flower petals? Why… wait. She’s seen these before.

Blood blossoms.

Jack… Jack’s family used to use them, back before ectoplasm was discovered and made useable for weapons. Flowers used to ward off, hurt, and… and destroy ghosts. Gasping, “Danny why are you-”, cutting herself off and jerking up, running off to get paper towels, anything to help get those things and anything they might secrete off of him; he staggers a bit and almost falls over from her suddenly moving away but she has to get them off of him. Figure out the why later, Maddie, help him now.

As soon as she gets back over she plucks every petal and flower she can see away from him and into an insulated jar, rubbing his jumpsuit off to deal with any oils or pollen or anything. Grabbing his cheeks and forcing him to look at her, “open your mouth”, tone leaving no room for arguments. At least he does as asked, but she doesn’t like the way he’s still shaking and seems weak; eyes barely open and the whites of them are a little red. They should be tinting green from crying right? Not red? Not while he’s a ghost at least. Crap, has he been poisoned?! Wiping out his mouth quickly but thoroughly, “do you need pure clean ectoplasm? Have you been poisoned?”. That would help flush his systems out, logically.

Once he gets his mouth back he coughs a little more, nodding weakly, “that, that would help. I… think”, and coughs a little more. So she nods curtly at him and moves to go down to the lab, barely catching him muttering, “what the fuck body”.

He gladly drinks the vials of ectoplasm she brings back up for him, her getting him to lean against the wall. Her swallowing and eyeing him, he looks like he just suddenly lost thirty pounds! “Danny…”.

He huffs a little, leaning his head back against the wall, “just… just give me a, a sec”, and closes his eyes, breathing heavily. She nods and just sits there, waiting for him. Eventually he opens his eyes and eyes the jar with the petals in it, “blood blossoms. So, ugh, didn’t imagine that”.

She shakes her head, putting an arm around his shoulders and rubbing them, “no. You coughed up blood blossoms”. She’s not going to ask why he knows about the flowers. He could have read about them, Jack could have mentioned them, or he could have encountered them before. Squeezing his shoulder, “why?”.

“Because, my body’s an asshole, apparently. Ugh”; he winces in pain a little. She throws a small glare at him, which he huffs weakly at, “I’m, serious”.

Maddie frowns, he… didn’t sound like he was joking. “Why would a ghost, half ghost or not, cough up flowers that can destroy ghosts?”.

“Why blood blossoms?”, hacking a little and whipping a bit of ectoplasm off of his mouth, “I don’t know. Probably, too much stress”, rubbing his knuckles against his throat, “ow. But the… flower coughing, is a ghost thing”.

Maddie furrows her brows together, she’s never heard of or seen that before. Is it… a ghost illness perhaps? A stress reaction? “I’ve never heard of this before. Are you sick? If you are you should have told me”, she wants to scold him but doesn’t have the heart or the energy to do that right now.

Danny clears his throat a little and it sounds wet, did he actually tear up his throat? “Well, it’s not common. But yeah, I guess. It’s, ah, more like a chronic illness though”.

She eyes his throat and the way his cheeks and eyes still looked sunken, she can feel his ribs. “Do you want more vials?”.

“That’d be nice”.

So she moves her arm out from around his shoulders/neck and goes back down to the lab, deciding to just grab their entire current supply. Handing him a couple, putting the box of the rest on his left and sitting back down to his right; she’s not sure whether or not to be glad when he tilts to lean against her. She speaks up when he seems settled in and has drank a couple of the vials, “did you form with this? Or?”.

He eyes her, “you have a knack, for asking about things, I don’t want to talk about”, shaking his head, “this is, better though”, and swallows a little, “Hanahaki disease, meet the conditions and, you get it”.

Maddie frowns a bit, chronic implied nothing could be done about it. “It’s not because you’re in the living realm so much, is it? Or around humans too much?”.

Danny shakes his head, which she’s happy for, “ghosts get sick from that too, but not halfas. I’m good”, drinking another vial and sighing, he still looked like he was in pain. “This isn’t common, because ghosts usually act on their feelings and emotions, rather than ignore them”. Danny eyes her but she doesn’t say anything, just gives him an encouraging smile. He chuckles but winces from the action, “that was dumb of me, ow”, sighing and shaking his head, “basically, strong feelings of, um, love that isn’t, you know, reciprocated, causes it. Unrequited love. One-sided love. That”.

Maddie blinks, she had no idea he had strong feelings for someone! Especially strong enough to make him physically sick. Sure she’d learned that not only did ghosts have emotions and feelings, but that they tended to affect ghosts stronger than the living, but this seemed… a bit much. “That’s, a bit awful, Danny”.

“Tell me about it”.

“Can’t you just ask this person out? I know you can be a little off put-ish and you’re in a complicated situation, but…”. She can get why he might not want to date, from the secrets he’d be keeping to how dangerous his life can be. But if his body is literally punishing him for not doing that, then he should.

Danny huffs, almost grumbling, “I’m pretty sure she’d, beat the shit out of me, if I did that. Especially right now”. Making her blink and give him a confused look. Danny stares at her before sighing, “we were literally just arguing about her, mom”; and coughs a bit.

Maddie blinks, eyes widening. The Red Huntress? That’s who he’s talking about? Danny was in love with her? No wonder he was so upset then! If he liked her enough that his body was basically attacking itself (with flowers for some reason) he would obviously be incredibly upset over possibly wrecking their friendship (that could maybe be more) or making her not trust him anymore. “You being upset makes a lot more sense then”.

He sighs, glaring up at the ceiling, “could we not? ‘Cause even if there wasn’t romantic feelings involved, I’d still be more upset about her finding out”.

Maddie sighing herself, “alright”. She still didn’t like that, and they’re definitely going to have to have a hopefully calm talk about that. “Talking about her triggered the… Hanaha?”.

“Hanahaki”.

She nods curtly, “triggered the Hanahaki fit, didn’t it?”. That would make sense, especially combined with stress, she really wished he’d mentioned that. “I wish you said something instead of just letting it happen”.

Danny grumbling, “I wasn’t really thinking about it until I felt the itch it causes, mom”, sighing and rolling his shoulders a little, “but yeah, her finding out, the not great reaction she had, arguing with you about her and her reaction, all the stress that was putting on my body, and then you went and brought up my wail-”.

“Which clearly stresses you out to talk about and upsets you”, she eyes him, “I still want to know about it. Maybe not now though”. Which Danny grumbles, “I’d rather never”, at. Making her glare at him, “we’ll talk about it”.

Danny huffs, “well let’s just leave it at that it violently reminds me of an alternate future where I saw her die, alright. Super not good when I’m already upset about her”.

Maddie pales a bit, okay that makes sense… she’s a bit afraid of the implications there, especially since he said the power has been used to kill earlier and the comments in that notebook -that’s now just laying on the ground- about how easily it could kill. She won’t ask though, definitely not right now. Figures she would pick the worst possible time to ask him. Hopefully the power isn’t unique to him, if it was… she’s not sure what to think. Wincing a little before nodding, “okay. I’m sorry about the whole argument, especially since it lead to this or made this happen sooner”.

Danny shrugs, because of course he just shrugs off her doing him harm. “It’s not like you knew, but yeah, same. Yelling at you was kind of shitty, even if you thought it was a good thing”.

Maddie nods, patting him on the head a bit and giving his cheek a peck; which he cringes over. “I still think it was good, me and your father have been tiptoeing around things to much”.

“No shit”.

“Language, mister”, Maddie sighs, “is it usually blood blossoms? Because that could seriously hurt you and you looked concerned, like it maybe wasn’t normal”.

Danny shakes his head immediately, which she’s thankful for. “No, it’s usually poppies, marigolds, alstroemerias, pentas, roses, or dahlias; it’s always red flowers though, just my luck that Blood Blossoms are red. Normally amaranthus’s are the ones that suck, since they’re all long and stringy”, and chuckles a bit hollowly.

Maddie gags at that a little, “that must taste awful”.

Danny shrugs, “yeah, and sometimes I breath out pollen, which ain’t great”. Picking up the box next to him and handing them over, “I think I’m good now. Don’t want to drain your stock dry”.

“I wouldn’t care if you did”.

Danny actually smiles at that, “eh, whatever”; and she smiles back. But then he frowns a little, “and before you ask, the flowers grow in my lungs, and stressors make it go faster”, rolling his eyes, “normally it just grows in the chest space, but lucky me I have lungs”.

She grimaces but takes the box, pushing herself up, putting the box under one arm, and holding the other hand down to Danny. He eyes it a bit before grabbing her hand and letting her hoist him up. “You make sure you get some rest, okay?”, smiling a little, “and I’m sure everything will work out with Red, in more ways than one”, and winks at him.

Danny scowls dramatically, “ew, mom. For the love of everything don’t tell dad, I don’t think I can handle the embarrassment”.

She puts a hand on her hip, he should know better than that. “If you think for a moment I’m not telling him”, shaking her head, “but I’ll make sure to be very clear that if you tell him to cut it out he has to”, frowning, “the last thing me or him would want is either of us causing one of these fits”.

Danny sighs and sags a little, “fine, I’ll take what I can get”, rubbing his neck, “and I know it probably will. I mean, I literally knocked her out in the void of space before and she forgave me almost immediately”, shrugging, “not going to stop me from worrying and freaking out though”.

Maddie nods firmly, Red could hold a grudge but she did seem like a good person; she’d forgive him lying about himself especially since she’s hunted him. And thinking about her… Maddie could see why he’d like her. Headstrong, tough, ghost hunter, was good with weapons and could build them. It made sense. “I can tell, Danny”, smirking a little, “she’s a good fit for you though, can beat some sense into you. A rose-coloured romance”, and she laughs at him when he groans before heading up to his room, probably to rest.

She definitely felt… better about him, like she just got a lot closer to him. They all definitely still had a long ways to go, especially if there was possibly going to be romance in the future; she’s just going to have to hope to get the full story on this wail of his someday though.

End.

Prompts: Maddie crosses a line whilst asking about Danny’s ghostly wail. and Maddie finds damning evidence in Danny's room. and Valerie finds out Danny's secret and Being Phantom makes the fits easier and faster, so when Danny feels the beginnings of an itch in the back of his throat, he quickly goes ghost. When the coughing starts, though, his lungs burn like they never have before, each hacking cough tearing his throat to shreds and each wheezing breath costing so, so much. Once it stops feeling like an Alien is trying to claw its way out of his chest does he carefully look past the tears in his eyes to see what he coughed up: blood blossom petals. (Hanahaki AU! Romantic or platonic works!) and We have a lot of identity reveal fics- how about a post reveal one? What are the consequences (positive or negative or quirky) of danny revealing his identity (accidentally or not) to either his parents, Valerie, or anyone of your choice and Maddie struggles to come to terms with Danny being Phantom.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Corrupted, chapter fourteen: Morphine - a TMA x Malevolent crossover

An injury. A plea. An offer of employment.

Things have gone right off the rails, and Tim needs to make a choice: specifically, what it looks like, right now, to be a good man.

AO3

------

Tim doesn’t have a lot of sex dreams.  He did when he was thirteen, certainly, but after that annoying hormonal phase, sex just isn’t where his sleeping mind goes. 

He knows that would be surprising.

When Tim dreams, it’s time spent with Danny, or his mom’s last birthday party, or some puzzle at work, or something completely trippy like a Tube ride that doesn’t end. 

Well, that’s not happening today.

Some part of him is aware this vision isn’t happening now. That his body is walking someplace, and speaking some words, and what he sees and feels in this moment isn’t real. Except it is real. And it’s not really about sex, is it? 

It’s possession, it’s holding another being so close and so intimately but not with human arms , and somehow it is natural to be moving with dozens of limbs, to be touching and exploring and entering and—

Tim wakes with a start and finds himself in a hospital.

It is jarring . He’s in his own body, just four limbs, significantly smaller than he just felt like he was; he’s sitting in a waiting room, inundated with the astringent smells of a medical institution, with the quiet sounds of a few people watching videos on their phones, with uncomfortable plastic chairs and muffled coughs.

He stares around. He looks to his right.

Elias Bouchard looks back at him, peering, unreadable (and yet somehow so damn smug ). “Well. Welcome back, Tim,” he says softly. 

So he and Hastur will be talking about the dreams later, but this is happening right now, and he focuses. “Uh. Hi. What?”

“All is well. Jon is cared for; the damage was superficial.”

“Damage? What damage?” He doesn’t remember what happened. Not after… 

“You know, there are quite a few cultures in which saving another’s life places them firmly in your debt,” Elias says conversationally.

“Uh,” says Tim, and realizes he can’t feel his left hand.

He looks at it. Tries to flex it; it does not move.  Okay. Okay. So that was the price for saving Jon’s life.

Worth it. This is who Tim wants to be. Someone who saves people, who chooses to do the hard thing and help people. It was worth it , he tells himself, absolutely worth it, and he will tell himself that until it’s true. He blinks a few times, trying to hide moisture. “Don’t suppose I could ask for a recap of recent events?” he says, his voice rough. 

“Well, if I understand correctly,” said Elias lightly, “you successfully navigated the wildness of the Vast, took proper advantage of Simon’s favor—which I had intended you to do, so I am glad—and survived the extraction. Then, you were attacked by the Stranger. Or, to be more precise, Jon was.”

He sounds so gleeful, doesn’t he?

Oh, there you are, Tim thinks, and wishes dearly Hastur could hear him.

“And then,” says Elias, “you saved him.”

“I remember doing that,” Tim says slowly. “But after that…” 

“Well,” says Elias. “It seems you passed out. Not to worry! Your passenger took care of the rest.”

Better not have hurt him, Tim thinks. “What happened?”

“We are in the Chelsea-Westminster hospital,” says Elias. “You helped Jon up, got him home via train, and then got him to the hospital, where I came to meet you.”

“What happened to Jon? How bad it is?”

Not that bad.

“Well, to put it frankly, a bit of… skinning occurred on his legs, from the knees down,” says Elias. “But only a bit.”

Tim stares. Hastur made Jon take a train after he’d been skinned? “Why did to do that? Why didn’t he go to a local hospital?”

“Because—correctly—he realized that to do so would keep Jon in danger. The Stranger, it seems, has deeply infiltrated Penzance, and Jon would be vulnerable. It was not safe to bring him to a medical establishment there.”

“So… Hastur did the right thing?”

“He did, in my opinion,” says Elias. “I am quite fascinated by all of these developments.”

The Stranger pretends, says Hastur pleasantly. It is the fear of the not right, that something is off. Its acolytes often steal the skins of others and murder them to return wearing their form.

Dear gods. Tim has never heard of anything so awful. “How bad is Jon?” he says, because that is the important thing. “Does he need skin grafts, or something?”

“No, just some care,” says Elias dismissively. “He’s more fussy than anything else.”

Tim didn’t like this man. “Well, when can I see him?”

“Probably soon?” Elias’ gaze lost focus for a moment, and it was the freakiest thing in the world. Tim knew Elias was seeing something else. Somewhere else. Something not at all in this room. “Mmm. They’re finishing bandaging him now. I’d say probably within a few minutes, if you are wise about asking.”

Tim sighs. “What did Hastur say? What did he do?”

“Oh, he was quite delightful,” says Elias, absolutely bright as the sun. “The things he’s seen! Ah… conversation with this being is something I don’t believe I can put into words. I could do it forever.”

And deep inside of Tim, Hastur rumbles, a sort of weird non-feline purr.

Oh, for the love of fuck, Tim thinks at him. You want to go into Elias’ body? Would that make you happy?

I cannot, says Hastur. It would be profoundly unsafe to try, and not only because that is hardly his body to begin with.

Woo, there’s a can of worms. A big one.

A can of worms for later. “I want to see Jon.” Tim stands.

“Of course.” Elias says in some kind of new-knowledge-post-orgasmic-chill, and can’t be bothered to do more than smile.

Tim heads for the counter. So you can hear me now?

Yes. It seems you’ve activated some kind of spell. Very convenient, Tim. Very impressive.

And Tim could almost feel the not like Arthur sentiment.

Great. Fucking great. “Hello,” he says to the nurse, leaning into his smile, his charm, his influence . “I’m a friend of Jonathan Sims. I would really love it if you let me see him.”

#

Jon is out of it.

“Jon,” says Tim softly.

Jon beams at him. “Tim! Hastur! Hi! Hi both!” He lay in bed, his trouser-legs cut away, his legs heavily bandaged. He looks like someone stopped partway into making him a mummy.

The nurse looks amused. “He did say this was fine, but…”

“No, no, it’s good ,” Jon says. “Do I need to sign some more things? I can sign so many things . You wouldn’t believe how many.”

“I’m sure,” says the nurse. “Fifteen minutes max, all right?”

“Yes, sir,” says Tim with a salute. “I really appreciate this.”

The nurse smiles (just a touch flirtatiously) and leaves, having been swayed for reasons he does not even know to allow Tim back here, even though Tim has no business doing so legally.

This magic thing isn’t too bad. It really isn’t. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi!” says Jon again, and points to his IV. “Did you know that morphine was developed from opium in 1810?”

“They’ve got you on morphine?” says Tim, horrified, revamping his idea of how badly injured Jon must be.

“Friedrich Wilhelm Adam Sertürner isolated the alkaloid, and called it ‘morphium,’” says Jon happily, doing his best with the German name. “He named it after the god of sleep, Morpheus! Isn’t that something?”

“Sure, it—”

“Oh!” says John. “And he kept experimenting on animals, and then himself, and in 1917, he published, ‘Ueber das Morphium als Hauptbestandteil des Opiums,’ which means, ‘On morphine as the main component of opium,’ and that’s when it really got interest in the medical community.”

“Fascinating,” says Tim, and pats his arm. “So you’re feeling pretty good right now, eh?”

“Oh, it hurts,” says Jon brightly. “But it’s just scars . It won’t matter. Do you know what I learned? Do you have any idea?” He tries to sit up and lean closer and succeeds at neither. “Those things . I got to see those things. ”

“The… the fear-gods?” says Tim, slightly lost.

“Something,” says Jon, his eyes enormous. 

“Well, they won’t get you here,” says Tim. “I’m pretty sure. Lie back, all right?"

“Oh, some of them are here.” Jon looks very serious; his eyes seem to take up his entire face. “But they aren’t interested in me.”

Tim goes still. “Who?”

“Some of the mortuary workers,” says Jon, and smiles. “I think I’m going back to sleep.”

“All right.” Tim is grim.

“Hey,” Jon mumbles. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Take me with you on your next trip. Or… or come with me on mine.”

“Why would… we’re not going to have another trip,” says Tim. “Are we?”

“I think so,” says Jon. “Elias seemed to think we would.”

“Well. I’m going to find out about that,” says Tim. “Rest up. I won’t take you anywhere until you’re well.”

Jon looks like he’s going to cry. “No, I don’t want to wait that long. Please don’t leave me behind. I need to see , Tim!”

Oh, yes, says Hastur, low and eager. I like this one pleading. At last, I see the appeal.

Okay, done with this . “Take care. I’ll check in soon.” Tim leaves. What the hell is wrong with you, Hastur?

Nothing. I am feeling quite well.

Tim sighs through his nose, frustration rising. He heads back to the waiting area with full intent to talk to Elias and find out what the hell is going on.

Elias is waiting for him, standing, with a tight smile. “Shall we?” he says.

“Shall we what?” says Tim, sharply.

“Have a little talk?” Elias gestures for the door.

Oh, good. So Elias had spied in their conversation. “Lead the way,” says Tim, feeling warm with anger, skin buzzing with a simmering, quiet rage, and absolutely disturbed by the fact that he cannot feel that heat in his left hand.

#

The hospital is only a few blocks from the Institute, so they walk.

Elias is in a fabulous mood. He walks calmly with long strides, head high, and as long as Tim doesn’t speak, he hums.

Tim wrestles with anger. There are good ways to do this. Smart ways. Just strangling the guy won’t accomplish any of them. He takes a deep breath. “So did this work? Are the cops off my tail?”

“A good portion of them, yes,” says Elias. “Not all. There is a reason I picked six places, you know—but I think we may not need all six, after all.”

“All right,” says Tim. “What the hell are you doing with Jon?”

Elias looks at him sidelong. “An interesting question. Why do you ask?”

Because Tim knew . Knew, though he couldn’t say how or why, but he’d never had reason to doubt his instinct. “Because you’re using me to do something to him.”

Oh, Tim… Tim’s left hand rose and gently lay on his stomach, as if pleased. (As if substituting for a tentacle, the sensation of which Tim remembers all too well from that dream, or memory, or whatever it was, but will not address now.)

“Really?” says Elias. “Interesting.” He peers again. “Hastur told me you had… some curious abilities.”

The hell did you say to him? Tim thinks, frustrated.

Only that you are to be respected.

“I am given to understand that it is dangerous to cross you,” says Elias, low and pleased. “Though I confess that merely leaves me wanting to see just what you’d do.”

“Burn you, probably,” says Tim, but does not mean it.

“No, I don’t think so,” says Elias, who really misses nothing.

Tim frowns. “So I noticed you didn’t answer me? And while it’s a great little distraction, I’d really like to know what you’re doing to Jon, or… I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be good.”

Lovely, says Hastur, that hand just slightly clenching on his belly.

Why did Hastur have to get a hand? This is not safe. Tim is very aware of where that hand is, and how it feels against him.

Maybe all of this is going to drive him nuts. That would be one way out.

“I accept your query,” says Elias. “And I raise you a proposition: become an employee of the Institute, and I will tell you absolutely everything.”

Tim stops walking and stares.

Oh, that clever beast, says Hastur, thoughtful. He wants you under the auspice of his patron, and is willing to spend any currency needed to do so.

“Hastur is correct,” says Elias, and smiles.

Okay, no. This feels like getting cornered out of nowhere, like being in an open field, and suddenly against a wall, facing a wolf pack. Tim swallows. “What happens if I say no?”

“Everything continues as is,” says Elias. “I don’t believe you would suffer, particularly.”

“And Jon?”

“My plans for Jon will continue with or without you,” Elias says, low and menacing. “Though I am now certain his survival chances will increase with you.”

“You’re leveraging his survival ?” says Tim.

“I think we are beyond deceptive pleasantries, don’t you?” says Elias. “Regardless of your choice, I don’t plan to lie to you. I believe you’d know if I did, anyway—and that is not a good way to burn through one’s personal currency.”

“So you wouldn't lie, but just not tell me things, eh?” Tim growls.

“Yes,” says Elias.

Tim. I feel this is a trap.

“He’s got a point,” says Tim.

“He does,” says Elias Bouchard, always smooth as butter, always ready to respond, to parry, to deflect and answer in such a way that the asker feels stupid.

Tim understands what he sees. This man is, from Hastur’s account, more than two hundred years old; and he is intelligent, and used to getting his way. Elias is good at getting his way. So is Tim; but Tim also knows that his comparative lack of experience is the problem.

“What happens if I work for you?” says Tim. “Be precise. Be clear. Because I swear, if you lie to me, I will burn that building down.”

“Will you?” Elias seems surprised. “Employees inside and all?”

“If you trick me badly enough, I wouldn’t be able to help myself,” says Tim, which may or may not be true, but makes for a beautiful threat.

He sees and feels Elias weigh this, hold this statement in his hand, gauging if it’s true. And he sees the moment Elias decides it’s not quite worth the risk. “If you agree to work for me,” says Elias Bouchard, “I will, of course, pay you.” He names a sum comparable to what Tim made in publishing, which is… surprising. “Full benefits, of course. But that isn’t what you’re asking.”

“No, it’s not,” says Tim.

And Elias decides. “The part you may have issue with is you will not be able to quit.”

Cold washes through Tim, shocking and bad. “What?”

“I can let you go, but you cannot quit—not as long as you can see.”

Tim takes a step back. “Right, so, that sounds like absolute hell.”

Elias raises one hand, as if to say, peace . “Not only am I willing to bet my life that you will not want to quit, but the true benefits will be enough to keep you around by choice.”

“Which are?” says Tim, quite unconvinced.

“Full access to all the knowledge the Institute has gathered over two hundred years,” says Elias. “Well, one hundred and ninety-four, but that is quibbling.”

Go on, says Hastur.

“Also the full knowledge that I have gathered, which does not sit upon the Institute’s shelves,” says Elias. “I will—and am willing to write it contractually—answer any question you have.”

Tim, this is—

“Too good to be true,” says Tim. “I want the downsides. Now.”

“Those enemies the Institute have made will see you as a threat,” says Elias. “It is not unlikely you will be in danger—but the thing is, you already are . They are coming for you, anyway, Tim. This way, you will actually have backup. Resources. Help. Whereas if you are on your own, you and your passenger must rely on your… abilities, whatever they are.”

Amazing, the way this man made everything sound just slightly insulting. “Not really winning me over here.”

“It’s simple, Tim,” says Elias. “Face it all alone, or face it with help. Those are your choices. The cost is caring for Jon, and dealing with me—both of which you’ve already proven quite expert at.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Tim mutters.

“Talk it over with your passenger,” says Elias. “I will be watching either way; and what I have already promised is yours, no matter what you decide. But I will mention…” His voice lowers. “We are being followed. Behind us are three people: two of the Corruption, and one of the Desolation. No matter what you do here, Tim, you will not be ignored. You cannot be left alone. You’ve made too big a splash, and gotten absolutely everybody wet. My offer is aid, with the cost of involvement with Jon, and the understanding that I will send you on information-gathering missions. Those may seem too high to you. I understand, if so. Do let me know, would you?” And, back to humming, he heads on down the sidewalk and to his Institute, cheerful and pleased.

Tim exhales slowly. “Okay, what the fuck.”

Tim. Hastur is afraid. Followed?

Tim looks. “I don’t see anybody.”

Tim. Please. We need to get inside somewhere.

“You know, for a tentacle-monster of gigantic proportions, you spook really damn easy,” says Tim, but walks slowly toward the Institute, too. "Had a weird dream. We need to talk about it."

A dream?

"Not until this horseshit is decided." It doesn’t really feel like he has a choice. He wants to help Jon; it feels like an important thing to do, a good person thing to do, and he’ll make that choice, regardless. But without knowing what Elias is doing with Jon, that will be harder.

He has to protect Hastur, too. Hastur may be a jerk, but he doesn’t deserve to get eaten. Tim doesn’t want that to happen. So that is a choice, too.

And all that knowledge… all that information. Answers to questions, there for the asking.

But he wouldn’t be able to quit. What was up with that? Jon mentioned it, too. As long as he could see? What the actual hell?

I cannot make this decision for us, Tim, says Hastur, low. This is tying us directly to one of the Powers. I have never done this.

“If you were in my position, what would you do?” says Tim.

I would take his deal. At the very worst, I could burn down the Institute and murder him, and thus be freed from his employ.

There was a weirdly comforting practicality in that.

Tim was horrified he found it reassuring, but he did find it reassuring. This was not a no-way-out scenario. And, most importantly, Elias clearly knew that risk—and believed Tim would find reasons not to burn the place down.

He’d have to make sure doing this didn’t… collar him, somehow. Cut off powers. Choke him. But if it did not…

You are considering doing it.

Tim looks, and spots, for just one second, a person on their tail. She is a woman in a red dress, with long dark hair, and nothing should be wrong with her; but something is, oh, something horrible is , and though she is at a distance before ducking into shadow, he swears her skin moves like boiling porridge, as if whatever is inside her bursts and bubbles and drips all down her form.

Bile rises in his throat. “Let’s go find out if it’ll limit us in any way. And if it doesn’t….”

It could be a fair deal.

Tim snorts. “With that guy? No. We’re getting screwed somehow, but it may still be better than going this alone.”

We could always reach out to my cultists.

"That isn’t happening. Let’s go find out the details,” Tim says, and follows Elias inside.

Elias answers his questions.

Elias puts everything in writing.

The only gotcha, as far as Tim can see, is his inability to quit. “You know if you don’t let me go and I want to go, I”ll kill you,” he says, barely feeling like himself, yet meaning every sick and wicked syllable.

“ Yes,” says Elias, as though eager to know what it’s like to die burned and screaming.

Tim knows it’s probably a mistake, but he sees no other path forward. He doesn’t know enough. There are too many monsters after him. They need help.

He signs on the dotted line, and is weirdly disappointed that he feels nothing change.

[little-pondhead]

Oh. Oh.

Oswald Cobblepot was both glad and horrified that he personally picked up the Fenton kids from the airport. While he knew it’d get him on the Bat’s radar since he usually just sent a car for his guests, this was something more personal that Oswald felt needed a more careful hand to deal with. He had worked so hard to get the kids out from under their parent’s noses, coordinating with Jazz for weeks to find the best time. And here they were. Jazz and Danny Fenton-soon to be Cobblepot if he had anything to say about it. 

Visibly exhausted, Jazz stood hunched and shaking, trying to stay upright and not get swept away in the sea of travelers. Her clothes were rumpled as if she’d slept in them. She had huge eyebags, anding red marks going up her arms indicated she’d been scratching herself out of anxiety. Her fingertips were raw, and her nails had dried blood on them. Had she been digging at something? Picking at her nails? Either way, one’s nails wouldn’t look like that without repeated, aggressive action. Jazz also avoided eye contact with everyone who passed, including her brother. She wasn’t hiding something, Oswald noticed. From the way her shoulders kept twitching up towards her pointed ears, she desperately wanted to cover them. If her hands weren’t occupied with clutching her brother’s hand and a white purse, respectively, Oswald didn’t doubt she would be. The girl looked overwhelmed.

Danny didn’t look much better. In fact, he somehow looked worse. Despite Jazz's white-knuckled grip on his hand, the boy showed no emotion on his face. A fresh bruise was growing on his right cheek, and his hair was blown every way. His clothes were practically falling apart, with threads sticking up everywhere and plenty of holes to showcase the various injuries littered across his pale body. The boy was deadly still, and Oswald wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. His chest didn’t rise at all. The only part of his body that was moving was his eyes and left thumb, which was rubbing something in his palm repeatedly. Danny’s blue eyes were practically dead, but they still flickered around, bouncing from one thing to another like clockwork. Or habit. Danny was obviously very mentally checked out from reality but still couldn’t relax even in the depths of his own mind. 

Both of them were overall haggard and carried little possessions. They were at the end of their ropes, and Oswald was the last hope these two children had left. 

He would not be the reason the last bit of light died in their eyes. 

Oswald finally saw a break in the airport rush crowd and purposefully strode forward, never deterring from his chosen path. The two children stood against a far wall and quickly spotted him coming. “Hello, children,” Oswald said, sticking his hand out with his umbrella tucked under one arm. “I’m Oswald Cobblepot. Lovely to make your acquaintance. We spoke on the phone, Miss Jazz?”

The two siblings tiredly eyed him, but the elder accepted his greeting. “Hello,” she replied. Her voice was soft, like she expected him to yell. “Nice to meet you in person, Mr. Cobblepot.”

“Call me Oswald, dear.” He guided them out of the airport and toward his limousine, where the driver was already waiting. “I imagine we have much to talk about. But for now, let’s get you something to eat.”

—

“And this is my home, Cobblepot Manor.” The large iron gate creaked open as the limousine slowly drove on the compressed gravel path leading up to the manor. The two children, his children now, were curled in on themselves in the farthest seat away from Oswald, clutching each other as the manor’s shadow fell across the vehicle. They eyed him, not with suspicion and distrust but with longing and fear. The crime lord could practically see their thoughts. They wanted this to be a new home. Their final home. They wanted Cobblepot Manor to be what Amity Park used to be. 

But because of their blasted birth parents, Oswald and the children would have a long way to go until they felt comfortable with each other. 

The car stopped, and the three headed inside without another word. A small feast awaited them in the dining room, courtesy of Mary, his head chef. The kids wasted no time digging in like they hadn’t eaten in days. Perhaps they hadn’t. A report Oswald skimmed a few days prior came to mind, and he remembered that it was common for them to fight off their food before they ate it. Even now, Oswald could spot the silver glint of a weapon peeking out of Jazz’s purse, and Danny was digging into his meal with unusual aggression.

Oswald sighed, taking one last sip of his drink before speaking. “Children,” he said quietly. The two froze and stared at him, assessing him. Trying to figure out what his following words would be. “We need to discuss a few things before you retire for the evening.”

Jazz straightened, slipping on a mask better suited for negotiations. He mused silently that she’d be a great asset in the business world. “Right, we expected this.” She said. “We understand this is all rather sudden for you, and we’re both willing to help with finances as much as possible. We aren’t expecting any special treatment-we’re already indebted to you for taking us in.”

“Help with finances?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “We want to work to pay you back.”

Oswald cocked an eyebrow. “Those are some dangerous words, my dear.”

“I am perfectly aware of what I’m saying, Mr. Cobblepot. I won’t take them back now.”

“Even though I’m a supervillain?” He waved his arm about, gesturing to the room as a whole. “And as you can see, I’m perfectly capable of supporting everyone here even without my little side hustles. I have no need of your money.” 

Jazz visibly deflated, but Danny piped up for the first time since he’d met the kid. “Still,” he croaked. His voice was thick from unuse. “We-I-need to work. I need to help in some way. You already know about my ghost half, right?” Oswald confirmed this. “My ghost half thrives on helping, fixing and caring. I am a remedy. Even if I don’t get paid, I want to be useful to you. It’s all I’m good for.”

“Or what?” He didn’t say this was malice but was instead genuinely curious. “Will you fall ill?”

Danny grasped his utensils tighter, looking down at his plate. “Sort of. It’s…hard to explain. I’m not ready to share everything, but since I’m a halfa, unfulfilling my role as a ghost can have consequences. Core deterioration is one of them. It’s tough to return from that, just like if a human lost too much blood.” 

“Oh, and there’s one more thing.” Jazz added. “The GIW.”

Oswald leaned back in his chair. “Ah yes, the Ghost Investigation Ward. The sponsors of your parents, if the reports are to be believed.” The kids flinched. “Worry not, children. You two are Cobblepots now; well, you will be once the name change paperwork is filed. Either way, you are legally my heirs. No power in this world can take you away from me; I can assure you that. As for your need to work, I imagine you don’t mean getting into the dirty sides of my business, yes?” Danny scrunched up his nose at the thought. “Well then, I shall have you work at my Iceberg Lounge. This is my most popular and legal place of business, and most of the time, my fellow crime lords and supervillains have a truce about the area. Unless Batman shows up, you should see minimal fighting. You can shadow different positions until you find something that works for you. This offer extends to you as well, Jazz. How does that sound?”

Jazz relaxed just a bit, giving him a genuine smile rather than the forced one from earlier. “That sounds wonderful…Oswald. Thank you.” 

Continuation/blurb/snippet from this writing prompt.

It took less than a week to get custody of the Fenton children.

Oswald expected that it wouldn’t take long with his connections, but even that turn around is faster than what he expected. He’d anticipated pulling strings, greasing palms, maybe making some threats, but before he can even think of getting things moving to do so the paperwork is signed and a social worker is calling him to sort out the travel arrangements for the kids.

It’s all done local, the judge, CPS, the witnesses and lawyers, each and every one calling the town home. Each and every one pushing the case through at a speed that Oswald didn’t think was possible even in the most crooked of situations. He smelled conspiracy, but not - surprisingly - a malicious one.

Amity wasn’t the smallest place in the world, but it was small enough. And the Fentons were public figures, though not in the way that Jack and Maddie Fenton obviously thought they were. How long had the people of Amity been watching things go wrong for the kids? How long had they been trying - in their own, limited ability - to help? Long enough to get desperate, seemed to be the answer.

The only resistance Oswald can find as he reviewed all the information he could get ahold of, was from the Mayor - Jazz and Danny’s godfather, somehow more crooked than even Gotham’s elected officials as far as Oswald could tell - and the Dr’s. Fenton themselves.

The Mayor was summarily denied any influence of the case by the judge on the grounds of the long standing and publicly recorded ugliness of Master’s relationship with Danny - which was something else Oswald was going to have to figure out. Along with all the…ghost stuff.

Oswald wasn’t sure what to make of the ghost stuff.

Honestly he was leaving it for his people to figure out and wrangle into a reasonable explanation to report to him later. It was…something, a big something, and not - as he’d originally suspected upon initial cursory research into the town - a tourist gimmick or an overly high meta population. A later problem, provided he had to co tend with it at all once the children were officially in his custody in Gotham.

The biggest issue had been the kid’s parents. Or really, the biggest issue had been the shady government agency backing the kids’ parents.

The Fentons were the Ghost Investigation Ward’s pet mad scientists. Creating weapons and genocidal plans - against ghosts - and generally tormenting the towns’ living inhabitants just as much as the undead ones. The GIW had been protecting Jack and Maddie from any repercussions of their recklessness, and were willing to butt in on an unexpected custody battle in order to keep their maniacal golden geese happily working away.

From what Oswald had heard, a representative of the GIW had shown up to convince the judge to dismiss the case, but the judge had been faster. By the time the men in all white appeared - garish and tacky in their ill fitted, bulky suits - it had been too late of course. The judge had apparently anticipated their impending appearance and had made their ruling and had everything filed tidily late the night before. Courts did not typically stay running til three in the morning, but apparently an exception had been made.

There were a great many things wrong with Amity Park - wrong in a lot of ways they were in Gotham, wrong in ways they weren’t - but the people that called the place home seemed to have come to a decision on one thing: the Fenton children were not safe, and unknown or not they were trusting Oswald to get them out of there.

It was strange and a little overwhelming, for an entire population that did not know him to see him as some kind of hope. Some kind of hero.

There were many, many things wrong in Amity Park.

He tried to assure himself when everything was said and done and the kids were packed and on their way that it wasn’t his problem. He was officially Jazz and Danny’s guardian, in a city half a country away that even with his - nominally- cleaned up act he held a great deal of power over. He was nearly untouchable within Gotham’s shadow, and no one from some half-mad town was going to be able to do anything to change that.

He made preparations though, just in case. He hadn’t gotten where he was by being stupid. The Bat could use something to chew on that wasn’t one of Oswald’s entirely legitimate business ventures anyway. An ethically suspect government agency that was likely to come sticking their noses in Gotham’s business sooner than later would do just nicely for that, and might even earn him some kind of grace from Gotham’s brooding knight without getting him in hot water with any of the city’s criminal element.

All that was left at that point was actually meeting the kids in person.

His kids.

He ignored the strange, bittersweet ache that touched his heart at that. It was, after all, entirely a means of improving his reputation in the city. The kids mean an end. He’d take care of him the same he did all his people, but not any more than that.

It was just business.

If he reminded himself enough, it might even be true one day.

He suspected though, as he laid eyes on them for the first time - shadow eyed and leery, haunted in a way that ghosts couldn’t manage and looking not much at all like Oswald outside the fear and the pain he did his best to forget from his own upbringing - that the point of not caring had been passed the minute he’d gotten that first call.

*

Apologies if Penguin is out of character, all I know about him is what I vaguely remember from TAS, what I’ve absorbed from fandom and what I tried to put together from a wiki lol.

I did this instead of sleeping last night because I couldn’t get the initial idea out of my head (which slightly defeats the purpose of making it a writing prompt so that I could just read everyone else’s wonderful thoughts and writings on the idea instead of getting side tracked from my other writing projects - again lol - but oh well).

I don’t know if I’ll write anymore, and as with everything else I post this is open for anyone who is interested to run with.

Tag time!

@phoenixdemonqueen @justgray15777 @gin2212 @blankliferain @meira-3919 @lexdamo @hallowsden @derpygirl64 @thewondersoflebanon @amercurio @vythika96 @my-perfect-storybook-love @apointlessbox

[angelic-ish-phantom]

Dannymay26

Overcome

Danny learns fast that his core has an idea of what his body is supposed to look like.

And because of this, Danny also learns that he doesn’t have to worry about any injuries he sustains while fighting ghosts. So long as it isn’t life threatening, so long as he can tough it out, it will heal, and it will be fine.

His core will rend flesh back into the state his body took before the accident. It’s like pulling back time; he regenerates it all. So long as he’s still alive, he can fix himself, so why not take a bullet for Amity. Why not take this bullet, and the next, and every wound after.

A little pain is nothing in the face Amity’s safety. So many people are at risk of being hurt every day, injury that won’t just sew itself back together, without even the barest scar for evidence.

If Danny breaks his arms, that’s one person that won’t have their own stuck in casts for weeks. If Danny breaks his arms, given a day or two, his core has worked it’s magic and it basically didn’t happen.

(He doesn’t think of the snapping sound as bones crunch and muscles tear. He doesn’t think of his own voice screaming in his ears, as he’s unable to silence it. He doesn’t think of pain beyond explanation, because it’s fine. It will be fine. He just has to endure and he’ll be better. He’ll always get better. He just has to live and everybody else can too!)

There’s no permanent damage. Its like it didn’t happen. It doesn’t matter.

oOo

“Oh my God.” Tucker said. “Oh my God.”

Sam hovered over Danny as he hyperventilated, holding his shaking hands down so he didn’t try to touch his eyes again.

(His eyes. his eyes. His fucking eyes are gone. She’d ripped them out, what the fuck.)

“What do we do?” Tucker asked sounding even more panicked, “Gods, his eyes, Sam. What are we supposed to-“

“We just have to wait and it’ll heal!” Sam snapped, as if she had any idea what she was doing. As if she wasn’t just as horrified, because one of them had to keep it together. She could curl up and scream later, right now she needed to be there.

Danny flinched at the sound of yelling, and Sam shouldn’t have looked at his face because now she couldn’t look away from the empty, uneven holes, leaking blood and ectoplasm like a Goddamn fountain.

“Keep your eyes closed, Danny!” She yelled, breaking composure. She wasn’t even sure if that was safe, but less blood loss would surely be bad, even in this situation, wouldn’t it be?

“I’m-“ Danny choked, “I’ll be fine.” He said ignoring her instructions and attempting to pull his hands out of hers.

“What have your- has this happened before?” Sam asked, holding onto him tighter.

“N-no. But my injuries heal. They- they always do. This will too.” He sounded so pained.

“You don’t know that.” Tucker nearly wailed, “What if your- your eyes do heal, and you’re-“ Tucker thankfully managed to cut himself off, but now Sam was thinking of the possibility. What if this did blind Danny? What would they do? How would they explain it away?

She shook her head. One terrible thing at a time. “Tucker get me a towel.” She ordered.

It seemed he was thankful for the reason to be away from all this even for a moment, because he bounded away immediately. Sam knew that he wouldn’t just leave no matter how bad it got. Even if this was a lot for him, he’d stay for Danny, same as she would.

He came back with two towels, having wet one of them, helpfully. As he handed them to her, Sam caught his eyes spasming over Danny’s face.

It was fair, he looked fucking horrifying right now. His blood-streak tears were something out of a horror movie, and as Sam wiped down his face and eye-holes, she wanted only to turn away from that nothing-stare and cry.

She stopped, dropping the towel, as Danny let out a pained howl. She resolved to burn the blood soaked cloths, as Danny yanked his hands back and over where his eyes should be.

Sam was so glad her parents were out, because there was no way they’d be able to hide the sound of Danny’s choked yelling as he started to heal.

Sam felt like she might be sick; they couldn’t see his eyes fixing themselves, but the sound echoed through her room. It was like someone was popping wet bubble wrap, a broken up swelling sound she couldn’t ignore.

Evidently, that was Tucker’s straw, because he bent over her dustbin, retching. He’d definitely grown a tolerance to injury since the started “ghost hunting”, but Tucker was still definitely the most squeamish of all of them. She didn’t blame him for it, but the sound of him throwing up alongside whatever the fuck Danny’s eyes were doing was going to drive her to insane.

Soon, all that was left was the sound of Danny gagging as he tried to breathe. His hands dropped, bloody, but his eyes looked as blue as they ever been. Danny blinked as he calmed down eyes dragging across the room. It was a safe bet that he could see, and Sam really didn’t want to ask so she let it be.

“I’ll go get you some water.” Tucker said with a cough, before leaving to do so.

Danny murmured thanks as he slumped against Sam. “…I really hate Spectra.”

Sam held back a hysterical laugh, only nodding as she held him, masking her shaking with his own as she tried not to break.

oOo

Jazz didn’t know what to do. Nothing could have ever prepared her for one of her brother’s friends dragging an unconscious Danny into the house with one less arm.

She needed to call someone. Her parents, an ambulance. Screw Danny’s secret, his arm was gone!

“It’ll grow back.” Sam said tiredly. “All we have to do is wait.”

And Jazz hated the idea that they had done this before. That Danny might have regrown entire limbs with only his friends to notice what he’d gone through. Jazz cursed herself for not butting in sooner, but at the same time what could she have done. She was helping Danny now and she hadn’t been able to stop this.

She wondered how it happened, and immediately stopped, because if she kept thinking about it that vividly she was going to be sick.

She ran a hand through Danny hair as he grit out pained sounds, screeched and yelped, as the flesh and bone built up from his bleeding stub.

For the first time, Jazz couldn’t complain that the basement was soundproofed. Although this was a prime example of why it shouldn’t have been. Their parents couldn’t hear if one of them needed help or was hurt. Or was growing back their entire arm, what the Hell-

Jazz kept her body relaxed, murmured soft comfort, watching in morbid fascination as Danny’s muscles stretched and twisted over each other, as Danny’s bones built up a horrific baseline.

Sam was still in the room, breathing shaking as she leaned against the wall, eyes closed. She didn’t seem to be ignoring what was happening but she was definitely distancing herself from the moment. Jazz wondered how many times she had filled this roll of support, if she had had to watch flesh rend and bones snap as Danny lay in her arms.

It wasn’t fair. They were kids. They shouldn’t have to be the ones to do this.

Then, if the world were fair, Danny wouldn’t be dead in the first place.

So Jazz, stayed there, until Danny’s arm was back with off-shade skin, and his breathing had evened.

Stayed until Danny was awake and gasping and clinging to her the way he had when he’d scraped his knees when he was ten.

oOo

Tucker tried.

He tried, but he hated this so much. But then, he supposed this wasn’t about him.

Tucker pushed his blanket down on Danny’s wound as Danny hissed, doing his best to staunch the bleeding.

When was he going to start healing? When did his ghost powers think he was dying enough to start working? This was such bullshit.

He didn’t even noticed when Sam came in, vision tunneling.

“What the fuck happened?” She’d screamed as quietly as she could.

Heck if he knew. Danny had crashed into his room apologizing that he’d been closest, as though Tucker’s hemophobia was at all his fault.

“I got impaled.” Danny informed, cheerfully through a gasp as though there was anything funny about this. Tucker just kept pressing the blanket down; Gods, he was gonna have to wash this-

Sam gave Danny an unimpressed look, shutting the door and dropping herself at Danny’s side.

“Do you need anything?” She asked and Tucker tried to comprehend the meaning behind her words, but the initial shock of her being there had worn off and she was fading into the background.

“Tucker’s had it handled, b-but…”

“Right.”

And then Tucker’s hands were being gently pulled off of Danny. His head snapped up and his eyes met Sam’s.

“Take a break, Tuck. I’ve got it from here.” She reassured, putting pressure back on Danny wound, making his breath hitch.

Tucker didn’t know what he was taking a break from. All he’d done was press a blanket over the hole in Danny’s stomach. Danny’s the one who got a freaking hole punched through him! He was being overdramatic.

Regardless of that, Tucker nodded, slowly shambling to the bathroom, unable to focus on anything except the blood on his hands.

If Danny wasn’t still bleeding out in the other room, he might have stayed there longer, letting water run over his stained hands, but Danny was his friend. Even if Tucker wasn’t especially helpful when this stuff happened he still wanted to be there for him.

So he did his best to ignore the itch in his hands. Tried to focus on Danny’s face, holding his hand as his torso knitted itself back together. Helped him stay upright as his breathing steadied. And hoped to all Hell that this wouldn’t happen again.

(He knew it would.)

oOo

He couldn’t see. He could barely breathe.

For an agonizing while, all Danny knew was a seething pain on every inch of his skin, that would spike with the barest movements. It was so much that he almost couldn’t process it, but he still could and it hurt.

All he could do was lie as still as was possible and pray that he would just pass out.

He couldn’t even be tired; he was too overwhelmed. He wondered if he was screaming. He wondered if he was crying.

Then, he wondered if he was having a nightmare, because even if dreams didn’t feel so vivid as this, the way hands pressed into his burnt-bloody skin and made the pain impossibly worse. It hurt too much to be real, and all Danny could do was endure as he was pulled along and readjusted.

Time stretched on and the only thing Danny had to ground him in that whirlwind of paralyzing agony was the feel of his own skin peeling away against well-meaning hands like too-wet dough.

Eventually, thankfully, his skin began to blister and twist and stretch. Danny panted and wheezed as his healing factor began overworking itself. Muscles began to shift and swell and Danny could actually hear himself, could hear someone else, “God, your going to be okay. Just hang in there.” Sam(?) murmured in his ears.

It hurt so much, but he just had to endure. He just had to keep going.

But it hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much, please he just wanted it to stop-

Danny almost screamed, but someone was there clamping a quivering hand over his mouth, shakily shushing him.

“Shit.” Sam muttered sounding downright nauseous, and Danny wanted so badly to comfort her. Instead, he writhed for some long minutes as his crisp-blackened eyes blew up like flesh balloons inside his head.

He opened his eyes, blurry and wet, to see Sam and Tucker at his side. He tried to raise an arm, pushing through the throbbing sensation. As he reached to move Tucker’s hand, still gently clamped over his mouth, he caught sight of the fresh skin that covered every inch of him, pink like a newborn’s.

His hand landed on Tucker’s wrist, unable to flex far enough to wrap around it. Immediately the hand snapped back and Danny let out an sobbing, keening sound at the way his skin peeled with it.

“I can’t- I’m going to be sick.” Tucker said and then that blob in his vision was backed up against the wall, breathing deeply.

Danny wished they never had to see him like this. Wished that he couldn’t just tough it out on his own, but a selfish part of him never wanted them to stop, even if they could only be there.

He felt hair push from his regrown scalp in horribly itchy chunks, and felt his throat contract around nothing a few times, before he finally spit up bile and dead cells.

Danny rolled off his side, stumbling to his knees as he coughed and choked.

Eventually, all that was left were his heaving breathes in the silence of the—his—room.

A hand touched his shoulder and he couldn’t stop himself from flinching. Sam pulled back as though she’d been bit.

Danny offered her a shaky smile, “Sorry about that. I’m good, I just… need a minute.” He reassured, trying not to rasp.

Sam gave him a harsh look, “Danny you got electrocuted!” She whisper-shouted, voice tight with unshed tears.

Danny felt something heavy in his head, felt like he himself was about to break down crying and never stop. But he kept his breathing steady and held those feelings away. If he didn’t think about it, it was like it never happened.

“But I’m fine now, honest. I’m all healed up!” He tried to say the words with cheer or at least nonchalance, but it all sounded so artificial. It was true though; he felt a little raw, but he was fully healed up. Surely they could see that. They would realize it too.

(They never did. That’s why he loved them.)

“No you’re not.” Tucker said, sounding vaguely sick. Despite still being shaken, his friend moved to his side, wrapping him in a hug. His skin was sensitive, but as his walls crumbled he couldn’t bring himself to care, melting into the embrace. Sam joined and Danny found himself relaxing further, tears falling as he returned the hug.

It had hurt. It had hurt so much, but it was over now. For now.

Danny could pretend the the nightmares wouldn’t come, could pretend that it didn’t happen, that it didn’t matter. Because his friends were here. He was healed. And for now, he really was fine, because with them by his side, he could overcome any injury.

[slasherbaby]

Lip Service [read on ao3 or under the cut! ♡]

pairing: trans male reader x danny johnson (dead by daylight)

rating: explicit

tags: period sexxx, hurt/comfort, danny being a sweetheart (he still kills ppl tho) unsafe sex

warnings: blood (reader gets eaten out while he’s on his period soooo), smut, cunt/pussy/cock used for genitalia

“Hello?” You were already on edge before the phone startled you from your thoughts, so you don’t bother hiding the irritation that seeps into your voice. You’ve gotten enough prank calls lately, and honestly, you aren’t in the mood to deal with another one right now. You have enough on your plate as it is, albeit your ‘busy day’ mostly involves plans to lie in bed with a cup of tea and feel sorry for yourself. “Who is it?”

“Hey,” It’s Danny’s voice that greets you, softening the irritation that had built up inside you. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing against the kitchen counter. “What?” He says. “Expecting someone else?”

  “No, I just,” You sigh again, twirling your finger around the phone cord. “I’m having a rough day.”

  “What’s going on? Have you been getting those calls again?”

  “No, I’m-” You pause as a wave rolls through your lower stomach, tight and painful enough for you to bite down on your bottom lip, stifling a groan. Fuck. Whatever excuse you had planned on telling Danny dissolves as tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. “It’s that time of the month. I’m bleeding and it just… really hurts.”

  “Baby,” Danny’s voice drips with sugary sweetness, which does nothing to help the tears in your eyes. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

  You debate brushing him off, the thought of getting out of your comfy pajamas and into something that would make you look cute makes you want to curl into a ball and never leave your couch. But on the other hand, Danny is big and strong and somehow he always manages to run hot- your own personal furnace. Plus, having his arms around you right now sounds close to perfection.

After waiting a few moments, Danny takes the choice from you. “How about this; I’ll swing by Blockbuster, pick up a few of your favorite videos, and we’ll have ourselves a movie night.”

  “Danny,” You whine, suddenly very glad for the static connection from your home phone. “I love you.”

  “I know, sweet thing.” His nicknames for you always make you giggle, and now is no exception. You can practically hear his smile over the phone as he speaks. “I love you too.”

  ~

  It doesn’t take Danny long to arrive at your place, showing up with a crooked smile and a paper bag in his hand. He pulls you in for a kiss the second you open the door, a firm hand on your waist to keep you steady as you fall against his chest. It’s sweet, nothing deeper than the little nibble to your bottom lip he gives you, but it leaves you craving more nonetheless. 

  On most days it didn’t take much to rile you up, but when it was this time of the month, it was like your libido got an amplifier. When Danny releases you, you stumble back, a small laugh tumbling from your lips. He walks forward, closing the door with the back of his heel.

  “Look at you.” He grins, squeezing your waist before letting his hand settle on the swell of your hip. “My handsome man.”

  Averting your eyes away from his, you can’t help the butterflies that flit around in your stomach. You don’t feel very handsome, or at least you didn’t until Danny complimented you. His way with words always made you blush, or at the very least feel good about yourself. Even when you looked like a nerd in your pajamas.

  “Is that my shirt?” He asks, moving the handle of the bag to his wrist so that he could tug at the hem of your shirt. You give him a look, one eyebrow raised, almost like a challenge. Danny only laughs, tugging you back in so he can press a kiss against your forehead. “It suits you.”

  You lead him further into the house, stopping when you get to the living room. He looks massively out of place, but his body language is just as comfortable as it would be if you were at his house. Now that Danny’s actually here, you’re slightly unsure of yourself. He’s only ever been over once before, but that was just to drop you off after a date. Now that you think about it, it’s lucky that he even remembers your address.

  “Sit down baby, get comfortable,” Danny instructs, leading you to the couch and giving you a gentle shove. You fall back onto the cushions with a grin, waggling your eyebrows at him. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a few tapes, plopping them down on your lap before starting to walk away. “Your choice, sugar plum.” He tosses a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving you with pink cheeks and a fluttery heart.

  You look down at the movies in your lap, smiling when you realize what he rented. One of the reasons you two bonded in the first place was over your love for horror, so the genre doesn’t come as a surprise. But they were all movies that you had talked about before, most of the time just in fleeting conversation. The fact that he remembered makes your heart swell up like a balloon. It only takes you a minute to decide, eventually getting up and taking the one you chose over to the VHS player.

  “Danny?” You call out as you wander into the kitchen. You’re met with the sight of Danny opening a bottle of wine, the popcorn on the stove just starting to sizzle.

  “I thought I told you,” He points the end of the bottle opener at you. “To get comfortable.”

  You hold your hands up in mock surrender, a giggle escaping your lips. The sight of him brandishing the corkscrew at you doesn’t exactly inspire you to leave, especially not when the entire situation feels so utterly domestic. You’ve never been too fond of commitment, especially not with the track record of relationships you’ve had. But Danny… he makes you feel different. Wildly different. You know that you don’t have to settle down like your parents expect you to. You could have a career, you could get married, you could have kids. It all depended on what you wanted to do. But never before had you ever actually felt like you would want to ‘settle down,’ not like you do when you’re around Danny.

  “I missed you.” You grin as you walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You feel him freeze under your touch, like you had slapped him instead of hugged him, and immediately start to pull away. Before you can apologize, Danny puts down the cork opener onto the kitchen counter and grabs your wrists, holding you against him. You press a kiss to his spine before nuzzling your cheek against his back, feeling the way his body slowly relaxes into yours.

  “It’s only been a few days… Are you sure you missed me?” Danny murmurs.

  You shrug and give him another kiss. “Of course I missed you.”

  You can feel the shuddery sigh he lets out before he’s turning around to face you. He leans down, cupping your face between his hands, and looks directly into your eyes. His gaze is intense, far too intense for the situation, and suddenly you’re hit with a realization that you might have bitten off more than you can chew.

  “I miss you every second I’m not with you.” He tells you, the words carrying nothing but the honest truth. It’s your turn to shudder, though it’s not from fear. You’ve never been the object of someone’s desires before, not like this. Not in your kitchen with messy hair and pajamas and a man who looks like an angel staring down at you. “It drives me crazy.”

  “Danny…” You breathe, leaning up onto your tiptoes to connect your lips. When you part, you realize that his eyes are still open, watching you with such fervor that you have to force yourself not to look away. “I feel the same.”

  You watch him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing, before his lips part. Whatever he’s about to say is cut off by the sound of loud popping, making you flinch and look in the direction of the stove. When you look back, Danny’s face has gone back to normal, the look in his eye gone in an instant.

  “C’mon baby, let me finish up here and then I’ll be right with you.”

  ~

  By the time you have the movie ready, Danny’s walking back out with two long-stemmed glasses and an opened bottle of wine. He hands you one of the glasses, filling it with a flourish and a wink before putting the bottle and other glass down onto the coffee table. You laugh, grinning at him when he bows. When he goes back to the kitchen, you can’t help but pout.

“Leaving me so soon?” You tease, only to have him chuckle in response. The second time he comes back out, he’s carrying a bowl of steaming popcorn in one hand. You peer at him with a confused smile, looking at the hand he so obviously has hidden behind his back. “Whatcha got there, Danny?”

  Danny puts the popcorn down on the coffee table, careful not to knock over the wine, and sits down on the couch next to you. You put down your glass next to his, pulling your legs up onto the couch as he leans in to give you a kiss. You shut your eyes, ready to have your lips meet his, but as you lean in you realize that it’s not Danny that’s so close to your face. When your lips touch something soft and plush, your eyes snap open.

  It’s a stuffed bear, covered in fluffy gray fur with a satin red bow tied around its neck and a pair of felt vampire fangs sticking out from its stitched snout. “Oh my God, Danny,” You take the bear with gentle hands, immediately squeezing it to your chest. “He’s adorable!”

  "I thought you might like it." He chuckles.

  You move forward, fully ready to give him a kiss, but he stops you before you can. He hands you another object instead, this time a dark red box. It’s shaped like a heart, completely wrapped in velvet, and you know from looks alone that it’s going to be filled with chocolate.

  “Danny, thank you,” You say through a half-watery smile. The movies, the gifts, the wine… All because you were having a rough time. “You can’t be so nice to me, I swear I’ll start to cry...” It’s mostly a joke, but in all honesty, there's more truth to it than you’d like.

  Relationships have never been your strong suit. Hell, more like you’ve never been good at picking men who don’t treat you like shit. But Danny’s so different, caring and sweet, and thoughtful in all the ways previous men haven’t been. Even if he’s secretive about some aspects of his life, he treats you well, better than well, actually. He treats you like he actually loves you.

“Good.” He grins, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “You know I think you look sexy when you cry.”

  ~

  “Nightmare two?” He laughs, settling back into the couch as you pull your legs up onto his lap. “Interesting choice.”

  “What can I say,” You smile, leaning your head back against his chest. “I’m gay and I feel like watching someone else bleed for a change.” 

  You’re too busy focusing on the start of the movie to notice the smirk he gives you, before turning his attention to the film as well.

  It doesn’t take long before Danny’s hand is traveling down from your shoulder, drawing swirls onto the side of your arm. You lean into the touch with a smile, despite it doing nothing to quell the heat in your lower belly. When his hand moves to your waist, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from making a noise. 

  “Can I touch you?” Danny’s whisper comes as both a curse and a blessing, but you find yourself nodding nonetheless. He keeps his touch light, moving slowly over the skin on your stomach, trailing up to your ribs, touching just below your scars. It goes on like this for a while, before in a series of quick movements he’s pulling you over and up, forcing you to straddle him.

  It’s jarring to see him display such strength. Sure, you’re not the biggest guy in the world. Coming in at 5’3, it’s not like you’re exceedingly heavy. But still, sometimes you forget just how powerful Danny can be when he wants to. He’s 6’4 and devastatingly fit, though you don’t know where he finds the time to work out with all the late hours he’s been working recently.

  “Can I kiss you?” He asks, though you're hardly halfway through nodding before he’s claiming your lips. It’s rough and passionate, full of teeth and tongue, and the most delicious amount of pain. You hardly notice when he flips you over, laying you down onto the couch on your back and kissing his way down your neck. He rucks up your shirt, continuing to press his lips against your skin as he slowly works his way down. 

  It’s only when his head finds its way between your thighs that you realize what his intentions are. 

  “Danny wait,” You gasp out, though every fiber of your being is telling you to let him keep going. You grasp him by the hair and shoulder, not wanting him to move down any further. “I’m ble-”

  He cuts you off before you can finish, his eyes are dark and his pupils wide. “I know.”

  Your breath hitches in your throat. “Do you?” No one has ever wanted to touch you when you were bleeding, let alone go down on you.

  “I love you, Y/N.” He says, words scratchy and rough from kissing. He kisses your navel, and while you’re distracted, he pulls down your underwear and sweatpants all at once. You gasp, hands going to cover yourself, but he’s faster than that. 

  One of his hands grabs your wrists, big enough to cover both of them. The other goes to your thigh, lifting it up until it’s high enough that he can easily slide underneath it, letting it rest on his trap muscles.

  “I love all of you.” His voice deepens, turning to something dark, something you haven’t heard before. “And I’m gonna taste you.” He inhales, pressing another kiss right above your navel before traveling down to your already soaked cunt. Danny looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lips already pursed, tongue peeking out in anticipation. “All of you.”

  When he first touches you, it’s gentle. Just a little lick, nothing more. His eyes meet yours, and you have to force yourself not to cover your face. It’s not fair, is it? You’ve never met a man as hot as him, you’ve never met anyone who dances the line between pretty and handsome so flawlessly, and still has room for giving compliments left over. It’s like he was sculpted from the gods, made perfect in physical form and mind. And despite all of his perfections, he still wanted you.

  He releases your wrists, freeing his hand so that he can press it right above your pubic mound. He’s skilled, far more skilled than you would be if you were between someone’s legs, with the way he applies a bit of pressure, making your little cock slip free from your folds. Danny doesn’t hesitate with the way he sucks you into his mouth, making sure to keep his teeth away as he swirls his tongue around you. The whine that breaks from your throat is high and needy, your cunt pulsing on instinct. Danny had gone down on you before, but he usually filled you with his fingers before he started.

  Your hands hover above his shoulders, not yet touching him. You’re hesitant in all the ways that Danny is confident like you expect him to pull away at any second, a mocking smile on his lips and disgust in his eyes. But he doesn’t pull away, instead, he presses forward, releasing your aching cock from between his lips and moving down to your entrance.

  “Danny,” You gasp out as his tongue laps at you. “I’m bleeding.” If he doesn’t mind, then you don’t, but the idea of blood coming out while he’s down there is enough to make you want him to stop. “I can’t-” You aren’t sure where you’re going with the statement, since you hope he knows that you can’t just… control it.

  But before you can finish your sentence, he’s plunging his tongue deep inside you, pressing his entire face against your cunt and breathing in roughly as he fucks you. Your jaw shuts so hard that your teeth clack together, a cut-off moan stuck in your throat. 

  “Danny,” Your hand curls around his shoulder, your other hand moving to wind through his hair when you feel his thumb start to circle around your cock. “Oh God, Danny, you’re perfect.”

  He moves back just enough to look up at you, his lips red and shining and fuck, you’re sure that you must be on fire with the way your cheeks burn.

“You’re fucking delicious.” He husks before diving back in, his tongue working with you twice the vigor as before.

  It takes under five minutes for you to get close, your eyes bulging out as you grip his hair harder. “Wait, wait, stop,” You grunt, tugging him away from your cunt. He groans like a man starved, looking up at you with hunger in his eyes. 

  “What?” He growls, and it’s enough for you to almost let him move back down. But there’s blood on his face, his lips, his teeth. It’s hot in a way that you’ve never allowed yourself to indulge in before, unlocking your arousal like it was a dark secret you had kept under lock and key in the shameful recesses of your mind.

  “I need you inside me.” You gasp, trying to sound demanding but really just coming off as desperate. “I wanna come around you, Danny. Please,”

  Your begging is apparently all it takes to drive Danny over the edge, as he surges up from between your legs. Your thigh stays around his shoulder, with your knee pressed flush to your chest as you’re bent in an almost unnatural way. One of his hands slams down next to your head while the other frees his cock from his jeans. 

  He’s fully sheathed inside of you in a matter of seconds. You shut your eyes immediately, the sudden intimacy of eye contact too much for you to handle. One of his hands finds your cunt, resuming the vigor he used before when working your cock.

  “Open your fucking eyes.” He all but snarls, pulling his cock halfway out of you before going still. “I can wait all night baby, I’m not fucking you until I see those pretty eyes.”

  Something close to a sob comes from your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you follow his order. The lower half of his face is still smeared with blood, a bit of it on his teeth when he bares them at you and grins before thrusting back in.

  You come immediately, thighs shaking, back arching, and teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He keeps working your cock through it, thrusting hard and fast into you, so rough that it makes your teeth chatter. 

  “Keep those eyes on me.” Danny keeps fucking you at a pace that would be nearly painful if it wasn’t for how wet and open you are. “Don’t even fucking think about shutting them.”

  He makes you come once more before getting close himself, his breath coming out in hot pants and a growl rumbling in his throat. 

  “Come in me,” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and using it as leverage to meet his thrusts. “Please Danny,”

  “Yeah, fuck,” He grunts, moving one of his hands to your hair and yanking it back. “Beg. Fucking beg for me, angel.”

  “Please Danny!” You cry out, the last remaining bit of energy left in your body surging to the surface. “Please come inside me, I need you to fill me up, please!”

  “Yeah?” His hips stutter into you, eyes wide as he stares down at you, like he’s memorizing every single twitch of your facial muscles and the way your lips look when you moan his name. “You need it?”

  “So bad,” Your voice is hardly anything more than a stutter with the way Danny’s fucking you, but you force it through anyways. “I always want you inside me, I need your come so fucking bad, wanna feel you inside me for days,” 

  You feel it when he comes, gushing out and into you, filling you up with liquid fire. “Darling,” He groans, releasing the grip on your hair as he rides out his orgasm.

“Love you, love this so much,” You babble. “‘M never gonna let you come anywhere else, only inside me, forever and ever Danny,” 

  He tucks his face into your shoulder, nuzzling up against your skin. There’s a chuckle in his throat, but you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed. How could you ever feel embarrassed when he’s with you, inside you, loving you? It’s simply inconceivable.

  Danny slowly pulls back, but the arms you have around his neck don’t let him get far.

“No.” It’s your turn to growl at him, refusing to budge even when he tries to rub your arms soothingly. 

  “Sugar, I’m not going anywhere. Lemme put your leg down, yeah?”

  You debate it for a few moments before giving it, slowly releasing your iron grip until he has the space to pull back. True to his word, all Danny does is take your leg down from over his shoulder, massaging the meat of your thigh when you hiss in discomfort.

“You did so good, honey. So fucking perfect for me.”

  Looping your arms back into their previous hold, you smile and pull Danny back down to lay on top of you. The idea of moving again sounds terrible to you, and it’s not like either of you have anywhere you need to rush off to. “Thank you,” You murmur, a satisfied smile working it’s way lazily onto your lips.

  “Don’t thank me yet, sweet thing.” Danny gives your neck a soft nip before properly settling down. “We’ve only just gotten started.”

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[phantoms-lair]

Bruce walked in to see Duke holding a sphere of darkness and Danny one of bright green light. It was selfish of him, but he was glad Danny's head had been covered in blood after the accident. He wasn't identical to Tim, but it was close enough that it would have been his son there dying in his arm after being hit with his own car and there likely would have been no coming back from that for Bruce.

Danny immediately banished the orb once he realized Bruce was there, his body language indicated panic.

"Hey B." Duke greeted cheerfully, casually spinning his shadowball. "We were just discussing how much of a fruitloop my sperm donor was."

It was clever, really. Duke was being more casual than he usually was with his powers to show Danny that Bruce really was cool with them, and more to the point, it was safe for him to know. Still, he had to stay in character too, so he merely raised an eyebrow "Fruitloop?"

"Danny came up with the term and man, can you imagine if I called him that to his face?" Duke's grin split his face.

"Indeed." Bruce sat down by the bedside. "How are you feeling, Danny?"

Danny squirmed a bit. "Honestly better than I have in a while."

"That's good." Bruce took a deep breath. "There something I need to talk to you about, if you're up for it."

Danny shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "Sure."

"You didn't have any ID on you, so while you were in the hospital they ran fingerprints and dental records, which turned up nothing. They then ran a DNA test and..."

"Meta-gene. I know." Danny said darkly.

"There was a match." Bruce wished he could think of a kinder way to say this. "Danny...did you know you were adopted?" Danny opened his mouth to argue when several things suddenly clicked into place. Why Jazz was the favorite (even if his parents tried to hide it, they didn't do a great job, but they tried). Why he never could match up academically. Why he was so short when his parents were so tall. "Oh..."

Bruce squeezed his hand. "Danny, I'm so sorry to bring it up. If I could have avoided it I would have but..."

"Where are they?" Danny interrupted. "If you got a match, why weren't they here when I woke up?"

Bruce braced himself. "Jack and Janet both dies some time ago."

"Then why tell me at all?!" Danny burst. "Why tell me I'm adopted and I had other parents when they're gone!"

"Because you have a brother."

And Danny deflated. It was one paradigm shift too many in too short a time. But hey, since when did the universe care what Danny could or couldn't handle. "Older or younger?"

"That depends on your own age. Are you sixteen?"

He'd just turned sixteen a few weeks ago. "Yeeeees?"

"So twins." Duke nodded, as if in confirmation. And Danny just fell back against his pillow. Somehow he felt more overwhelmed by that. "Do I get to meet him?"

"He's here already. And he does want to meet you." Bruce assured him. "We're just waiting till you were ready."

"Tim's great, but he can be a little...intense." Duke further explained. "And we didn't want to overwhelm you." Danny almost said no, that he needed more time to process but a glance at the door showed a single blue eye with a black fringe glancing through. He'd been out for a week. That was a week for this Tim guy to know he had a brother and not be able to see him or talk to him. It felt cruel, somehow, to ask for more time for his nerves when Tim's had to have been on edge for days. "Sure, send him in."

DPxDC fanfic idea: The Back Roads

Bruce was driving around as his civilian self one late afternoon. The sun was barely setting, though one wouldn't be able to tell with all the smot.

He was planning on surprising his children with a spontaneous pizza party and some good family-friendly competition. He was excited.

Maybe it was because he was checking on the pile of pizza in the back, or maybe he was more tired than usual from his long nights as Batman, but whatever the case was he did not see the boy until he hit him.

Bruce swears the boy appears out of nowhere like a ghost. One moment, there was a long road with nothing but trees and his softy playing radio.

Bruce has always loved the long secluded roads that lead to his Manor. It always gave him peace of mind to enjoy a drive without anything or anyone around. Rarely did he ever encounter another driver out here - not since the Drakes moved out.

That's why someone standing in the middle of the road had come so unexpectedly. Bruce hadn't even noticed him until his headlights saw a brief flash of blue eyes just as it was too late.

The boy slammed against his hood, flying into the windshield and sliding off to the side. There was a terrible gagging sound, likely the boy checking on his blood as slid away to the ground.

Bruce slammed his brakes, sitting frozen behind the steering wheel. For a moment, all he could do was sit there in horror, wondering if it was true. Then reality crashes in, and he pushes the car door open, falling out in hysteria.

There on the ground is a boy that could be fourteen crumbled. A boy with dark black hair and - if the wide eye stare before the hit was any indication - blue eyes. He looks a lot like his sons.

Bruce feels sick.

Desperately, he rings up an ambulance, chocking on tears as he tells the dispatcher what happened. Bruce, meanwhile, does his best to check the boy over with his training.

He slowly turns him over, pressing his fingers on the neck as gentle as possible. There is a cold moment before he feels a aodt flutter against hia finger tips.

A heart beat but one that was slowing by the second.

Bruce tells the dispatcher this, who in turns tells him as soothing as possible that help is on the way, but Bruce knows the boy doesn't have enough time.

With shaking fingers, he presses the Bat Distress signal. His children are only ten minutes away in vehicles that can get to the hospital in thirty minutes. The ambulance will arrive in that same amount of time.

"It's going to be okay" He tells the still boy. "You're going to be okay. Please. Please. Be okay"

Nightwing pulls up then in the Batmobile with Robin in the passage seat. Red Robin, Spoiler and Red Hood are not far behind on thier bikes.

They all stop for a few seconds, unsure what to do, before Nightwing shakes himself out of it. "Mr. Wayne we got it from here"

Bruce is only half aware of Damian taking his hand and moving him away as Tim and Dick get the boy into the Batmobile. They speed away to the hospital.

What a terrible night for Alfred to be out.

Later, the cops speak to Bruce and use the dash cam to confirm that the boy really did appear out of nowhere. He's a meta, they say. Likely one that just got his powers.

Teleportation. Or Invisibility.

They weren't sure, but they would figure it out. They told Bruce he was free to go, and there was no need for Bruce Wayne to know further of the case.

Batman, however, was back there that night. He was outraged to find out the boy had been flagged for his meta genes, and some nurse low on cash knew there was a market for meta children.

She was attempting to move the unconscious youth through false discharge papers when Bruce landed on the hood of the car of her associates. They were quickly dealt with, turned over to the police-the good ones- and Batman had made arrangements for the boy to be taken in by Bruce Wayne himself until he awoke.

While that was happening, the attempts to locate the youth's family yielded results. He wasn't in the system himself, but he did match to a brother that was.

A week later, Danny Fenton opens his eyes from the best nap he's had in years, only to find out he was run over while in a ghost version of hibernation and in a different world.

Oh, and apparently, he is being confused as a twin brother of some guy named Tim Drake.

[vampiregirl1797]

All Because of a Jacket

Stiles x Reader

 GIF Not Mine

 Summary: A collection of the times Stiles lends Y/N his lacrosse jacket.

 Warnings: None.

 Word Count: 2,039

 A/N: I have no idea where this came from guys. Actually, I do—I ordered myself a Stiles lacrosse jacket and I’ve been living in it since it came, so that’s most likely what inspired this little imagine. I hope you enjoy it! Leaving a link HERE to the jacket I got off Etsy if you’re interested—I cannot recommend it enough!

 Click Here For my Masterlist.

 It started off subtle, something I didn’t notice at first, and was merely grateful for. The pack had met in the middle of the lacrosse field on a Sunday evening, the location chosen as a way of avoiding any police cruisers who were out enforcing the town-wide 9pm curfew. Still, I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just have met at someone’s house, though I suppose that did run the risk of neighbours ratting us out.

 I’d been trying to listen to what Scott was saying, and the whole reason we were gathered in the middle of the freezing cold lacrosse field in January, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus. It was my own fault, really. I’d assumed we’d go inside the school once we’d all gathered together, which was why I’d forgone grabbing a jacket as I left my house. Now, I was there, scrunching the sleeves of my jumper in a vain attempt to retain some heat and reverse the cold settling in on my bones. I had my arms crossed over my chest, and was seriously considering just wrapping my arms around Derek and burying my face into his back—he wouldn’t have minded and the man gave off more heat than a damn space heater, but I was startled out of my thoughts by a curtain of warmth being wrapped around me. I blinked, surprised and my eyes fluttered closed for a second in complete and utter relief, before my brain registered that the wonderfully warm jacket hadn’t just landed on my shoulders of its own accord. I looked to my left and straight into a particular pair of honey brown eyes that I was more than a little fond of. His eyes were soft at that moment, and when I murmured a quiet thank you, he responded with a bashful smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest.

 As I slid my arms through the long sleeves of Stiles’ lacrosse jacket and buttoned up the front in an attempt to retain the warmth the sarcastic boy’s body had provided, I found myself grateful that Stiles, like me, was one of the only humans of the group. It meant that I’d been able to successfully keep my more than platonic feelings from him. Of course, he was the only one who didn’t know.

 I narrowed my eyes at Derek’s teasing, barely there, smile and discretely flipped him off by scratching my nose with my middle finger. The action didn’t go unmissed by the blue-eyed wolf and he breathed a chuckle before returning his attention to the alpha in front of the group.

 My cold state now taken care of, I was able to concentrate on Scott’s words, subconsciously stepping closer to Stiles as I listened, my body seeking out the comfort his presence always provided me with without my consent.

 That was the first time Stiles gave me his jacket.

 //

 The second time had been during a “stake-out” with Liam and Stiles. The honey-eyed boy was adamant that there was something off with Theo, and honestly I hadn’t got the best feeling about him popping into our lives out of nowhere for one, adding in the fact he was also a werewolf… well it was just too much of a coincidence.

 ‘I’m telling you, there’s something not right about him, Y/N.’ Stiles said, for what must have been the hundredth time in the last four hours.

 ‘Stiles.’ My hand covered his on the steering wheel, and I felt us both immediately relax at the touch, ‘I believe you, okay? You don’t need to convince me of anything. If you say there’s something off with Theo, I’m not going to question it.’

 His usually honey-brown eyes were dark with emotion as his hand squeezed mine, ‘why? Why do you believe me?’

 ‘Because you have great instincts and I trust you and your opinions more than anyone else’s.’ I told him honestly.

 I felt my heart beat pick up the longer his eyes bore into mine, but I refused to look away, even knowing that Liam was probably smiling in the same smug way all the werewolves had mastered whenever my heart misbehaved around Stiles. What felt like hours later, Stiles blinked and bought my hands in-between both of his.

 At my look of confusion, he elaborated, ‘you’re freezing.’

 ‘Huh, I didn’t even notice.’ I shrugged, trying to fight the blush forming on my cheeks at what felt like an intimate gesture.

 He opened his hands a little so he could blow some hot air onto mine, and the warmth generated from the act seemed to travel through my whole body.

 ‘Better?’ he asked after a few minutes of repeating the gesture.

 I cleared my throat and kept my answer short, not trusting my voice, ‘much. Thank you.’

 ‘No problem.’ He released my hands and I slid them underneath my thighs to retain the heat he’d created.

 My eyes moved over to where we’d been watching for most of the night, to see Theo was still playing his video game, like he had been for most of the night. It made me frown; sure video games were what teenagers usually did, but it just seemed too convenient to me. I was about to voice my opinion to Stiles and Liam when familiar cotton was placed onto my shoulders. My arms moved through the sleeves almost reflexively as I offered my best friend a grateful smile, and tried to resist the urge to bury my face into the fabric to inhale his sweet and husky scent.

 ‘Thank you.’

 ‘Can’t have you freezing on me.’ He joked his hand squeezing my thigh briefly before returning it to the steering wheel.

 I couldn’t have stopped the blush that formed on my cheeks if I tried, so I turned my gaze to stare out of the window, my hand resting where his had touched me, and I wondered— if I were to remove the denim barrier provided by my jeans, would my thigh display a brand of his hand print?

 Because the heat left behind by his touch felt exactly like I had been branded as his.

 //

 The third time had been in the cafeteria.

 We were all sitting together, minus Derek and Liam, and all having different conversations in our own little groups. Allison and Isaac were making weekend plans, provided she could sneak out without her father noticing, Lydia, Aiden, Ethan and Danny were talking about something they could all do together on a double date, and Stiles, Scott and I were all talking about collages we wanted to apply to. Well, they were. I was trying not to fall asleep using my sandwich as a pillow; I’d been up late the night before, helping Stiles put together his criminal bored. Nothing had been solved, but we both found it helpful to have everything, every clue, and every detail all in one place.

 Of course, time had gotten away from us, and our party had been broken up by the Sherriff returning from his shift and gently informing us it was past three am. I’d been too tired to drive home and had slept on the couch, but two hours sleep wasn’t enough time for me, unlike Stiles; he was as hyperactive as ever.

 I pushed my tray away from me with a sigh, too tired to eat anyway, and laid my head down on top of my arms. I’d heard a few chuckles from the pack, but I ignored it; they knew how I could be when I was tired so they just left me to it. I was on the brink of passing out, knowing someone would wake me for our next class, when I found myself surrounded by what was becoming my favourite jacket emitting warmth and a scent I couldn’t get enough of. I slid my arms into the sleeves and nuzzled my face into the fabric once I’d returned them to my original position. Had I been fully conscious of my actions, I’d have been embarrassed at my audience, but the chuckles simply faded into nothing as I finally found sleep.

 What I hadn’t noticed was Stiles’ fond smile, or the knowing and frustrated expressions the rest of the pack wore.

 //

 The fourth time had been during a lacrosse game.

 I’d been standing in the bleachers, wearing a jacket that was not keeping me warm in the slightest and discretely trying to huddle closer to Malia—she gave off as much heat as her uncle did—when I’d heard Stiles shouting my name.

 I’d frowned, but manoeuvred my way out of the row I’d been sat in and made my way down to the benches, where he was waiting. He was holding his helmet under his arm and when I reached him, he held out his jacket and I took it, but didn’t put it on in case I’d misunderstood his meaning. Did he want me to give it to Malia? I’d noticed they’d been particularly close since she had joined the pack, and as much as it made my heart ache, I was glad the female wolf had someone to offer her comfort when she’d been without it for so long.

 ‘I noticed it’s pretty cold and figured you could use a jacket.’ He said, seeming nervous.

 I felt a genuine smile form on my lips as I slid the cotton on and buttoned up the front, ‘thank you. I feel like I should rent this from you with how often I wear it.’ I chuckled, pulling my hair out from underneath the fabric.

 He joined me in my laughter, ‘nah, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like seeing you in my jacket.’ He looked nervous again and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.

 Did he mean…? ‘You do?’ I asked, my voice quiet to my own ears.

 ‘I do,’ he stepped closer and I felt wonderfully dizzy as a stronger wave of his heat and scent washed over me, ‘Y/N…I’ve liked you for a while. As more than a friend, and I’ve been too scared to say anything, but Scott practically threatened to kill me if I didn’t admit it to you.’

 ‘You like me?’ I repeated, dumbfounded. How had I missed it? Had I been so preoccupied in hiding my own feelings that I’d been blind to his?

 ‘Yes.’ He looked more nervous now and I found myself reaching out, my hands falling on top of his in an attempt to comfort him.

 ‘Stiles…’ I took a breath, finding the courage to say the words I’d been holding in for so long, ‘I like you too.’

 His honey-coloured eyes bore into mine for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds, before his lips formed a face splitting grin that made my heart warm in my chest.

 ‘So, will you go on a date with me?’ he asked, seeming more confident but not much.

 ‘Absolutely.’ I grinned, my face leaning into his hand as it came up to caress the side of my face.

 ‘Awesome.’ He grinned again, and I was sure that we would both be wearing these giddy expressions for the foreseeable future, ‘pizza after?’

 ‘Perfect.’ I laced my fingers through his and almost jumped a mile when coach blew his whistle. I’d been so lost in him, his touch, his warmth, and his smell that I’d completely forgotten where we were.

 ‘I should get out there before Coach kills me.’ He chuckled.

 ‘Okay.’ I replied, reluctantly releasing his hands.

 He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead that I made my heart melt. Before he could leave me completely, I grabbed his jersey and with a teasing grin told him, ‘by the way, this jacket is mine now.’

 He blinked, and when he’d processed my words a bright, fond grin broke out across his face. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered against my skin, ‘you won’t find me objecting to that, sweetheart.’ He winked, waved, and left to join the huddle in the centre of the field.

 My cheek didn’t stop burning for the rest of the game.

[kinglazrus]

Deep Wounds Ch. 2 - What Now?

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Word count: 4069

It takes ten minutes for everyone to change and clear out. During that time, an invisible Danny floats in one of the shower stalls, his gym bag clutched to his chest, one hand clamped around his mouth. If it hadn't been for Dash's shout of "No!" he might not have hidden in time. Danny only had a few seconds to snatch up his bandages and bag—but not the gauze—before the first person entered.

It was Tucker, thankfully. He gaped when he saw Danny and quickly waved for him to hide. Just in time, too, since Elliot was only a few steps behind.

Now, Danny can only hear a single person shuffling about.

"It's clear," Tucker whispers.

Danny floats through the door of the shower stall, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the empty change room. He drops his invisibility and dumps his stuff on the floor in favour of clutching his side. "Why didn't I stay home today?"

"Because you want to graduate this year and you can't afford another absence." Tucker grabs his gym shirt off the floor, revealing the forgotten gauze pad, and sighs at the new stains. "I really liked this shirt."

"Sorry, man."

"Dude, you are literally bleeding. Shut up. You don't need to apologize. Just be glad I got my shirt off before Elliot could see the damn thing." Tucker grabs the gauze, rolls it into a ball, and tosses it toward the garbage can. "Ten points!"

The gauze bounces off the rim and falls to the floor.

"Zero points," Danny says.

"Rude."

"Hey, I'm bleeding, remember?"

"That only gets you a pass from saying sorry, not common decency."

Danny's shoulders shake as he laughs. It hurts, making his left side throbbing, but trying to hold it back hurts worse. "Ow, ow, ow," he says, gasps of pain interrupting him. Curling over, he hugs his side even tighter, fighting back a sharp cry. The tension in his body doesn't help, but the pressure on his side feels good.

"Sam on her way?" Danny asks.

"She's grabbing the first-aid kit from my locker. I'll fix you up this time. We all know I have steadier hands." That A-plus in home ec isn't for nothing.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles.

"Yeah, dude. We've got you."

After Sam arrives, Tucker redoes Danny's stitches in record time. Half of the lunch hour has passed by the time Danny gets patched up, but he doesn't feel hungry anyway. Tucker takes his and Danny's bloody gym shirts and stuffs them into the first-aid kit.

"I need to refill on some supplies at home," Tucker explains. "I'll get rid of these there."

"Good idea. My mom found a pair of jeans I forgot to throw away after a fight with Skulker. I had a hard time explaining that one away," Danny says. The "I tripped into a window" excuse probably only works once, anyway. "But we have another problem."

"Dash?" Sam asks.

Danny nods. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"He was acting weird when gym ended. Wouldn't let anyone come inside until we pushed him out of the way."

"Huh." Danny certainly didn't expect that. Dash might be a downright bully anymore, but he's still not prone to random acts of kindness. "That's... weird." It doesn't make up for him tearing Danny's wound back open, even if it was an accident, but it's something.

"I think we might not have to worry about him," Sam says.

Danny stares at her, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, actually. He could have done anything when he saw the rest of the class coming, including telling everyone that you were hurt. But he stopped them instead."

"But this is Dash."

"That's surprising coming from you."

"What does that even mean? You guys and Valerie are being so weird today. Come on, Tucker. Back me up." Danny looks at Tucker, fully expecting him to be on Danny's side.

Tucker doesn't respond right away. Biting his thumbnail, he stares ahead at the floor, deep in thought. That alone is enough to send Danny for a loop. When Tucker does answer, Danny's jaw drops in disbelief.

"I'm with Sam on this."

"For real?"

"Yeah, man. We don't even know what Dash thinks he saw, anyway. What happened when he walked in?" Tucker asks.

Danny tells them, sparing no detail.

"Oh, wow."

Sam shakes her head. "I'll say. I can't believe you wailed at him."

"Almost. I almost wailed at him. It was a baby wail at most. More of a hum," Danny says. He was just so surprised when Dash walked in. Danny's instincts took over and all he could think about was getting Dash out of there as soon as possible. He is lucky no one else came running.

"That already will have freaked him out. If we go around making a big deal about it and getting in his face, that'll make things worse." Sam stands up from the floor, stretching her arms over her head. She looks completely unconcerned, so does Tucker for that matter. Both of them are content to let Dash be. "Let's wait to see what he does. If he starts spreading rumours, we'll know right away, and then we can confront him."

"On the other hand, he might go to you, Danny, first," Tucker adds. He takes a bottle of Aspirin from the first-aid kit and presses it into Danny's hand before zipping the bag up. "He might not do anything."

The bottle of Aspirin rattles as Danny twists the lid off. "I can't believe you guys are okay with this." He dumps a couple of pills into his palm and tosses them back. Wordlessly, Sam passes him a water bottle. One quick swig is all he needs to help the pills go down. "He could be telling everyone right now."

"He could," Sam admits. "But he won't."

Sam and Tucker get up to leave, and Danny's forced to follow, or else get left behind. He trails after them, stiff, sore, and aching. The pills won't kick in for a while, and he loathes having to walk now. If he could get away with it, he would spend the rest of the day floating through the halls.

Tragically, he has a secret to protect. One that is very much at risk right now, despite what Sam says. Wherever she and Tucker are getting their confidence from, Danny doesn't share it. He just hopes they're right.

Dash tries to hold it in. He really does. The sound of Danny's anger bearing down on him, reverberating through the change room, hasn't stopped rattling around his head. But as lunch nears its end, the words burst out of him.

"I think Fenton is in a gang or something," Dash says.

The table falls silent.

Kwan freezes in place, hand halfway to his mouth, and a piece of meatloaf falls off his fork. "You... what?"

"I think Danny is in a gang," Dash repeats, softer.

His friends gape at him, equally confused. Mostly. Star doesn't even look up from her math homework. In fact, Dash thinks she's smiling, but he ignores it.

"Kwan, I thought you said Danny was the one who got hit during gym class," Paulina says. She pushes her lunch aside and leans across the table, lifting a hand to Dash's forehead. "Are you sure you got it right?"

"I'm fine, Paulie." Dash ducks under his hand and hunkers low to the table. When no one else moves, he gestures for them to come closer. Kwan does so immediately. Paulina rolls her eyes but obliges.

"I'm good," Star says.

"Okay, so, I checked on Fenton after dropping him off, 'cause he looked kind of bad, and I guess, I don't know. I felt... whatever. It doesn't matter. But like, he had this huge cut."

Paulina grins and leans in closer, finally looking invested. "You felt kind of 'whatever?'"

Dash scowls. "Seriously, Paulie?"

"You're the one who said it!" Paulina smacks the table, a fit of giggles bursting from her. It's her "I've found some juicy gossip" noise and Dash hates it.

"Did you even hear me? Huge cut and all that?" Dash says.

Kwan shrugs. "I don't know. His parents build a lot of crazy stuff, don't they? He probably hurt himself on one of those. Did you see that new gun they were toting around last week? It melted Mr. Lancer's car!"

"Oh, my God. I totally saw that. I felt so bad for him," Paulina says.

Dash frowns down at the table while the conversation plods on. True, everyone knows the Fentons have some crazy inventions. But everything they make, they make to hurt ghosts, not people. Everyone in town has been caught in the Fentons crossfire at one point or another. Dash still remembers the disgusting taste of the Fenton Foamers. Like warm, month-old key lime yogurt. Disgusting, but ultimately harmless.

And Danny didn't just have a little cut. It was huge. Dash only got a brief look at it, but that short glance told him everything he needed to know. Something, or someone, had hurt Danny. Rather than going to the hospital—because no trained professional would do such a sloppy job—Danny fixed it himself or got his friends to fix it. The injury had to be new, too, since it was still bleeding.

But stitches could bleed if you ripped them, didn't treat the injury right. Judging by the placement, Danny's stitches must pull every time he moves his arm.

Could one of his parents' guns have done that?

Now that Dash thinks about it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Danny get hit with his parents' weapons. Not their guns, at least. They have that dumb boomerang thing that he's seen smack Danny on the back of the head. Actually, that one hits Danny a lot.

Dash's frown deepens, etching into his face. Why on Earth would one of Danny's own parents' inventions hurt him so much? Unless...

"Hey, guys?" Dash asks, interrupting Star mid-sentence.

"You found more proof of Fenton's gang activities?" Paulina asks.

"What if, like, someone's hurting him?"

"You mean one of his gang buddies?"

"No, Paulie, I'm serious. What if someone is hurting him?"

The table falls silent once more, but this time, his friends' expressions are serious rather than disbelieving.

Kwan lowers his voice. "Do you really think... I mean, Fenton?"

"Well..." Star taps her chin. "Where was he hurt?"

"Here." Dash taps his ribs on his left side, under his arm.

Star nods. "Okay. Are you sure he couldn't have, you know...." She trails off, but Dash already knows what she means.

"No way. He could hardly see the cut, much less do it himself. And it was bad."

"So he was hurt, badly, in a place that no one else would normally see. He didn't miss any school, so he probably didn't go to the hospital. Was it recent?"

Dash nods. "There was blood. Too much to just be because of the stitches."

Star drums her fingers on the table, nodding slowly. "I think you could be right."

The A-listers glance around the table, meeting each other's eyes. None of them say anything, but the same question lurks in all their minds. Now what?

In the days following the change room debacle, Danny avoids Dash like his life depends on it. Which it might. Any time he sees Dash in the hall, he turns right around and walks away. When they're in class, Danny stares straight ahead and refuses to look Dash's way. In gym class, Tetslaff lets him sit out, finally. Having Danny blackout on her after she forced him to play must have spooked her because she benches him before he can even ask not to play.

"No student of mine is gonna pass out on my watch. Twice," she says.

It won't last forever, but Danny will take what he can get, while he can get it.

But the thing is, Dash doesn't try anything. It's surreal. For the past four years, Danny has grown accustomed to Dash's constant harassment. Even when it dropped significantly in sophomore year, Dash never stopped. He threw erasers at Danny during class, tripped him in the halls, called out teasing names every chance he got.

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?" Danny asks Tucker on the third day.

Already done his lunch, Tucker is thoroughly engrossed by his phone and doesn't look up as he replies. "You think everything is weird lately."

"Because it is."

"Missing your quality time with Dash?" Tucker flashes a quick grin in Danny's direction before returning to his phone.

"Har, har. You are so funny." Danny would have to be some kind of masochist to miss Dash's badgering. It's just... strange, not to have to watch the halls for him in that way. It doesn't make Danny watch any less—in fact, he finds himself looking for Dash more than before. So that he can run away if he gets close. Except Dash isn't even trying, and that annoys the hell out of him.

Tucker sighs, finally putting down his phone, and rests a hand on Danny's head. "Such a hopeless young soul. Can't even understand your own heart."

Danny slaps the hand away. "Says the guy who asked out every girl in school because they all made him feel the same way because it turns out he's super ace and didn't actually feel anything for any of them."

"And what an emotional journey that was." Tucker faces Danny head-on. "Look, Danny. If it's bothering you that much, then go talk to him. Feed him some excuse about what happened. Just remember that there's a reason Sam and I think it will be okay."

Danny ponders Tucker's advice for the rest of the day. The weekend starts tomorrow, which gives him two whole Dash-free days to think about the situation. Maybe a little time to himself as what he needs. He goes for a flight after school rather than walking home with Tucker; being in the air always helps clear his head.

He soars far above the city until he is little more than a pinprick to everyone far below. At the peak of his flight, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it's Jazz.

"What's up?" he greets his sister.

"Taken over my room yet?" Jazz asks.

"When you've only been at college for a month? Of course." It made a great storage space. Danny turns over to float on his stomach and starts drifting down like a leaf, falling back and forth on the wind.

"Well, I'm gonna need it back this weekend."

"Dropping out already?"

"You wish. I got a tutoring gig: two sessions—Saturday and Sunday. I don't want to do the two hours there and back both days, so I'm coming home for the weekend."

"I can't believe someone is actually paying to spend time with you. Hope the loser doesn't rub off on them."

Jazz laughs. "Pretty sure any loser on my came from you. And it's four people. Actually, you know them."

When Danny comes downstairs Saturday morning and sees Jazz's students at the kitchen table, he stops dead.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"Hi, Danny!" Paulina waves, far too perky for nine in the morning. Squished around the table with her, Kwan and Star offer their own small waves. Dash looks straight down at his textbook.

"Goodbye." Danny pivots and marches back toward the stairs. Forget breakfast; he didn't want to eat, anyway. He can still have a nice, relaxing, Dash-free day in the confines of his bedroom.

A cascade of whispers reaches his ears as he hits the first stair. The A-listers murmur too quiet for him to make out what they're saying, although he thinks he catches his name more than once. Maybe they're talking about how uncanny it is being inside his house. Or, perhaps, they're discussing the new school nurse, Tammy. But even as he thinks it, he knows neither theory is true.

A chair screeches in the kitchen, the plastic capped legs scraping against the linoleum. Danny throws himself up the stairs.

"Oh, Danny, wait!" Paulina's silky voice follows him.

He jerks to a stop at the landing, cringing. How mad would she be if he ignored her? It's funny to think that a few years ago his heart would have leapt at Paulina calling out his name, back when he had a crush on her.

His toes curl against the carpet as he hesitates; the pros and cons of ignoring her run through his head. Pro: he won't have to deal with whatever scheme she's up to, and Paulina is most certainly up to something. Con: she might sic Dash on him, and he's the last person Danny wants to see right now. But that's a moot point because Dash is already here. After some humming and hawing, he grits his teeth and turns back around.

Paulina hangs out the kitchen doorway, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Yes, Paulina?" Danny asks.

It should be physically impossible for her smile to get any wider, and yet it does. "You're having trouble in science class, right?"

Danny hesitates. "Maybe. Why?"

"So are we! We came here for a study session with your sister, since she was Casper's best student in thirty decades. You should join us!"

"Isn't Star acing all her classes? And I thought science was your best class."

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but without any malice. It reminds him of the look Tucker gives his little cousins when they are being intentionally obstinate. Danny flushes, suddenly feeling stupid even though he doesn't understand why.

"Yeah, we're good at it, but the boys aren't. Duh." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is. "It's easier to study in a group."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I like studying alone."

Paulina's smile doesn't fall, but it changes. Danny can't quite place what it turns into. Her mouth curves upward and her teeth are exposed; objectively, it's still a smile. But there's a new tension to it, one Danny only notices now, but he thinks might have been there the whole time, lurking behind the bright façade. His grip on the newel post tightens, the wood creaking beneath his finger.

At times like this, Danny wishes his ghost abilities included reading emotions. The look Paulina is giving him is important, he can feel it, even though he can't explain it. But it doesn't mean anything if he can't decipher it.

"If you say so." The moment shatters. Paulina withdraws back into the kitchen, leaving Danny alone and wondering if he missed something important.

Down the hall from him, Jazz's bedroom door opens. She emerges with an armful of books—old schoolbooks, Danny notes.

"Not hanging out with Sam and Tucker today?" she asks.

"Jazz, it's not even noon yet. I don't think Tucker's awake." Danny glances down the stairs toward the kitchen, mulling something over in his head. "I kind of want some alone time today. I know you're tutoring and everything, but could you make sure they don't bother me?"

Jazz frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"There was an... incident with Dash at school."

"Boy troubles?"

"Jazz!" Danny's entire face turns scarlet. "Please never say that about Dash." He lowers his voice. "It was ghost-related troubles."

Jazz's expression goes stony, her teasing smile replaced by a serious frown. "Do I need to take care of him for you?"

"Oh, my God, Jazz! Just keep him away from my room!" He marches the rest of the way to his room to the sound of Jazz's snickers and slams the door behind him.

When Paulina returns to the kitchen, Dash sits up straighter. She shakes her head as she reclaims her seat next to Star. Dash deflates again.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Dash says.

"Don't be so silly. That wasn't even plan A, although it would make things easier. Are you sure you didn't do anything to him in that change room?" Paulina asks.

Dash groans. "Please. Please never say anything like that again. It sounds so wrong."

"You're the one who took it that way."

Star and Kwan laugh at Dash's misfortune, watching him bury his face in his arms. When Star suggested they gather evidence, to confirm whether or not Danny was being abused at home, this wasn't what Dash expected. He pictured spy movie antics with them sneaking through the bushes dressed all in black, peeking through windows until they say something that proved—or disproved—their theory.

Things would go a lot easier if Dash could actually talk to Danny, but ever since that moment in the change room, he can't. He knows Danny has been avoiding him, which is better short term. If Danny walked up to Dash right now demanding to talk about what happened, Dash wouldn't know what to say.

How many times has he hurt Danny (pushed, kicked, body-checked) when he was injured? There's a possibility, however slim, that this was a fluke, the first time Danny has ever come to school injured. There have to be loads of reasons someone might not go to the hospital, such as bad insurance. Dash's cousin broke her nose once and let it heal crooked instead of going to the doctor since it was cheaper. He's heard stories of people sacrificing their health rather than paying exorbitant hospital fees. It's not impossible.

Except Danny's parents are inventors. They do projects for the government and can afford to throw money around for ridiculous ghost hunting contraptions. The Emergency Ops Centre only two floors above them must have cost millions. If that's the case, then surely his parents can afford a hospital visit for such a bad wound.

Dash doesn’t like to think about the alternative, but he has to. The alternative is the whole reason he and his friends are here.

That doesn't help with Dash's other dilemma, though. How is he supposed to talk to Fenton, now? Dash doesn't think he knows how to interact with Danny without some form of aggression. Even when he stopped outright bullying people, he never stopped with Danny. A push here, a shove there. It is instinct for Dash to stick his foot out if he sees Danny coming.

Danny even returns the favour, sometimes, growing bolder the older they became. Dash still doesn't know how Danny keeps getting into his stuffed bear collection, but it's not unusual for him to find one in his locker or sitting at his desk when he returns to class.

It's what they do. Dash can't help it. Any time he manages to trip Danny up enough that he gets a glare or a vengeful smile, it makes him feel good.

But he can't do that now. If Danny is actually getting hurt at home, Dash can't in his right mind keep agitating him. Just thinking about what he did to Danny's stitches makes him pale. He doesn't even want to think about what other wounds he's made worse over the years.

And he has. Dash knows this without a doubt. Thinking back on their interactions this year alone, more than five occasions come to mind where Danny grimaced, or flinched, or clutched some part of his body after Danny bumped his shoulder in the hall. It feels him with an indescribable dread, but the worst of it is he can't understand why.

He never knew Danny was injured; he can't be entirely to blame. Thinking that does nothing to assuage his guilt, though.

"Okay!" Jazz Fenton announces herself with a bright chirp. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest; books Dash recognizes from their classes. The idea that she stole them from the school flashes through his mind, but that's ludicrous. Jazz doesn't have a criminally minded bone in her body. If anything, she bought them, or the school gave them to her for being that amazing. Either option is more likely than her committing a crime.

Jazz slams the books down on the table directly across from Dash. She flashes him a brilliant smile as she sits and folds her hands over the table.

"So, Dash." She tilts her head. Her smile no longer looks kind. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

Previous | Next

[ghost-strawberry]

This Isn’t Going To End Well

Phic for Phic Phight 2021. Prompt by Bird: I think Danny dealing with his parents implementing a new, widespread ghost protection thing would be neat!

“We’ve been working on a very exciting new device for hunting ghosts!” Maddie exclaimed at the dinner table. Danny tried to show an expression of innocent interest, whilst Jazz anxiously glanced in his direction. He was sure his parents wouldn’t notice his sister’s reaction.

“Yes!” Their dad continued, unable to contain his anticipation, “It utilises an ancient ghost hunting technique and actually includes biological agents.”

“I finally persuaded your father to experiment with the tried and tested horticultural approach,” Maddie went on, all bubbly, having forgotten about the rest of her food. “Of course with some technological upgrades.”

“Does it hurt the ghosts very much?” Jazz asked as she collected the plates and cutlery from the table.

“You know we don’t care about that, Jazzy-pants,” Jack responded flippantly, “in fact, it would be great if it did, or at least hurt the ghosts enough to incapacitate them. We could get some good samples to dissect!” Danny felt his stomach churn and hoped his dinner would stay down. Jazz quickly turned to shove the dishes in the sink, hiding the alarmed look in her eyes.

At least the things his parents invented didn’t usually work that well, Danny reflected. Although, the stuff his mum made often posed an actual threat to him. He prayed his dad had contributed enough to this new device to render it harmless.

Danny massaged his temples, elbows resting on the table. He could feel a headache looming out of sight. “So, uh... what’s it called?” Danny asked, hoping to hear some more information. He needed to know if this was one invention he should be secretly sabotaging. Jazz ran the hot water and began washing up.

“It’s called the Bio-ecto-repellent,” his dad announced proudly. His mum looked less than pleased at this. The name didn't sound too dangerous to Danny. "And if it works, it should effect all the ghosts in an area as big as the city!" Now that did sound bad.

"When will it be finished?"

His mum shot up from her seat, "Oh Danny, I'm so glad you're so interested in this work! You should come and see it right now!"

"Mum," Jazz interjected as she cleaned a plate, "Danny's probably got school work he needs to focus on."

"I think I've got time to come check this out," Danny said, rising from his own chair.

"Great!" Jack shouted. He rushed out of the kitchen, surprisingly quick for a person of his stature. Maddie followed suit.

Jazz spoke softly to Danny, "just let me know if you need me, little brother." A warm appreciation for his sister blossomed in his chest.

"I will, thanks Jazz."

Danny made his way downstairs to the laboratory after his parents, a feeling of dread steadily forming inside him. He generally had faith that his parents would love him no matter what, even if they did find out the truth about him being a half-ghost. Experiences like these and whenever they spoke about cutting up ghosts didn't exactly give him the confidence to tell them. It had become a habit now, to hide his double identity from the world, from his parents. It was just easier this way. Although, maybe if he told his parents, they wouldn't be so hell bent on destroying ghosts. Danny couldn't decide what the safer option was; keep his ghost half secret or tell them the truth. He chose to go with the former for now.

Danny reached for the banister along the wall. For some reason his hand was shaking. Was he that scared of his parents? His vision began to blur with a red haze, the stairs starting to swim and morph before his eyes. Each step downwards seemed to become heavier, slower. He swayed, leaning against the wall. His head was pounding, pain blooming just behind his eyes.

He feebly called out, "Mum? Dad?" Danny could hear feet running on the laboratory tiles, voices reverberating, a droplet of sweat from his forehead splashing on the floor. His own breath was too loud and his heartbeat, usually deathly slow, was thumping hard. Warm hands holding onto his body. He could feel himself trembling, he couldn't see anything now. He thought his head must be about to burst. Suddenly, it all went silent.

***

The soft sound of breathing was pleasant and calming. Occasionally, it was accompanied by the rasp of a page turning. Eyes still closed, Danny flexed his fingers. Every part of his body ached, felt like lead. He was in his own bed. The faint scent of pen ink and jasmine flowers told him his sister was here with him. They were alone.

"Jazz," he croaked, barely audible.

"Danny," she whispered back, dropping her book to clutch his hands. Jazz's hands were uncomfortably hot.

"What happened?" He remembered leaving the dining room, trying to go down the stairs to the laboratory, to see what? Somehow the experience had felt familiar.

"Oh, Danny," Jazz sighed. His eyes flicked open and he could see tears trickling down her face. Anger flared up inside him. He hated that she was crying because of him.

"Don't," he tried to reach up and wipe the tears away, but his arm was like stone, he could scarcely lift it.

"I... I think this..." she faltered, her eyes darting around the room, "I think this new weapon is really bad."

Of course. He remembered now. So he couldn't even go near the thing without passing out? This was bad.

"You're gunna’ have to break it for me Jazz."

"I tried... Mum and Dad they... they stopped me going near it... they've taken it to the roof now."

"They're going to use it. We have to stop them Jazz." Danny had no idea what this thing was meant to do, but he couldn't let it go on. For his own sake as well as the innocent ghosts that naturally inhabited Amity Park. His head raced as he searched for a solution.

"Help me out of the house," he asked, his voice stronger now. The expression on Jazz's face told him what she thought about that, but she gently supported him out of bed anyway. The siblings stumbled together from Danny's bedroom, through the empty hallways and out of the front door. They were greeted with a cold, fresh breeze. Danny let out a sigh of relief as the cool sensation washed over him, invigorating him. He looked down the streets for where to go next. He needed to get further away from whatever the thing was, and get a good look at it at the same time. Danny shakily pointed down a road nearby. Leaning his weight heavily on Jazz they continued away from the house. With every step Danny felt a little stronger, a little lighter.

"Let's get this show on the road!" The gleeful shout echoed, coming from the roof of Fenton Works. Danny raised his head to see his parents attending a slowly spinning machine, it's glass sides showing it to be filled with an ominous red.

"Blood blossoms," Danny murmured, his voice low and quiet. Jazz's eyes widened in fear.

"What? Those primitive flowers that ghost hunters in the olden days used?" Danny nodded solemnly. The device on the roof was spinning faster now, a high pitched mechanical whine emanating from it. Danny could see the white flash of his parents teeth, both grinning madly.

"Stop!" Jazz yelled at them, releasing Danny and frantically waving her hands in the air. "Mum! Dad! Stop the machine!" They couldn't hear her.

Danny raised a shaking, glowing palm towards the roof. He had to destroy this thing, now. He really hoped his parents wouldn't get hurt in the process. The energy built around his hand.

Before he could fire, an ear-splitting crack whipped through the air. For a few seconds everything was still.

It was beautiful really. The gleaming red petals drifted through the sky. They looked as though they were dancing.

Next came the pain. The earth-shattering, mind-numbing pain. His senses cut off completely. He could only see a deep, blood red before him. The only thing Danny could do was scream.

[singingaboutwishingx]

the sam/josh/donna we DESERVED

so, as we all know, canon neither confirms nor denies the existence of a josh/sam relationship

this, of course, means it happened.

and so when sam and donna find themselves in bed together at the beginning of year four, as attractive people tend to do, this becomes a problem for both of them

because the two of them had always been pretty close

(they were both individually closer to josh but had formed a friendship in their own right. donna had been sleeping in sam’s guest room at least once a month for a year before it happened)

but anyway, this closeness was partially born out of the fact that they both had feelings for josh

sam, as josh’s ex, would have taken him back in a second, and what began as a seed of a crush for donna soon blossomed into love

it’s nice to feel things with a friend, and they didn’t do it a whole lot, but it was definitely a bonding point for them

anyway they both knew that about the other and went “oh shit” when they woke up the morning after

because like,,, their feelings for josh absolutely had not gone away, but sam’s pretty goddamn, well, pretty, and donna more or less rocked his world

so they keep it up because, hey, josh is doing... whatever he’s doing with amy gardner right now, and it’s pretty obvious that he’s not interested in either one of them for the foreseeable future

(they’re both absolutely oblivious, but they are kind of right—neither of them will get involved with josh anytime soon)

they throw a few real, outside-of-sam’s-apartment dates into the mix

it’s clear pretty quickly that this isn’t a fluke. they’d enjoyed each other’s company before, but donna very much likes sitting on sam’s lap instead of next to him at a respectable distance, and sam certainly isn’t complaining about it, either

it’s a few months before anyone significant finds out

(at this point, the only people who know are donna’s roommate and sam’s doorman)

there’s a knock on sam’s door one saturday morning as he and donna lay in bed

sam reluctantly goes to answer the door (“couldn’t i just pretend i’m not home?” he pulls her closer. “sam, what if it’s important?”)

when josh calls sam’s cell phone, sam doesn’t get a word out before josh starts “sam, come open your door. i’m outside.”

donna and sam are Very Stressed about this

it’s fine, though. as long as donna stays in the bedroom, quietly, josh doesn’t need to find out

and so sam goes to open the door, but decidedly does not invite josh in

“sam, what’s goin’ on? you got someone here or something?”

“um, yeah.”

“oh. you could have just said so.” josh’s eyes wander past sam to the coffee table. “is—is that... donna’s purse?”

sam’s eyes widen. shit.

needless to say, josh did not take it very well.

sam calls donna out of the bedroom, and the way the too-big sweatshirt she’s wearing—unmistakably sam’s—drapes over her goes straight to josh’s heart.

sam and donna sit on the couch while josh paces in front of them

“so, let me get this straight. my—my best friend, and my... other best friend are sleeping together and they didn’t tell me for months?”

josh has been rubbing his temples for so long that donna’s afraid he’ll rub his skin off

he’s not not happy for them, but donna and sam aren’t the only ones with feelings for their coworker and their ex

and that’s just kind of how it is for a while.

donna and sam don’t exactly hide, but they try their best to keep it on the down low for both press reasons and josh reasons

mostly they just order takeout and eat it on sam’s couch because neither of them really has the energy to do anything else

josh never, ever asks either one of them about it. he can’t. the less information he knows, the better.

he genuinely can’t stand it because it just doesn’t feel right to him. sam and donna? really? (no of course he doesn’t have feelings for either one of them he doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t)

unfortunately for sam and donna, the little routine they’ve settled into comes to a screeching halt in november, when sam pulls donna into his office and tells her he might have to move across the country because he’s running for the california 47th? why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?

and listen, cj and leo have simultaneous aneurysms, but that’s nothing compared to the way donna’s and josh’s hearts just shatter

josh doesn’t really talk to sam about it. he’s afraid he’ll just break down, and he really, really doesn’t have time to cry, especially in front of sam. he just... he can’t do it

donna doesn’t really know what to do. she and sam talk about it, of course, and decide to maybe stop seeing each other, but what does she say? “i broke up with my boyfriend”? they were hitting the stops of dating, she supposes, and they would occasionally refer to each other as their boyfriend/girlfriend in public, but really only for the benefit of others

(donna preferred the way ginger would put it, which was “donna, how’s your man?” she liked that better. “boyfriend” felt too formal, too established. she and sam were a little more casual than that, she thinks)

(and she loved him, she did, but there was something (josh) keeping her from really feeling like sam was her boyfriend)

but anyway, they leave it kind of open-ended (which is how sam ends up in donna’s hotel room when the senior staff goes to california)

smash cut to march 2007: josh and donna are a pretty established couple, and sam is two and a half months off another broken engagement

sam’s thrilled for them because, seriously, they danced around that thing for years. they deserve to be together in broad daylight.

his feelings for the both of them never really went away, but he knows they’ve both moved on

(they had not, in fact)

unsurprisingly, it’s donna who brings it up to josh

“so, we both dated sam.”

“...yeah?”

“i don’t know about you, but... now that he’s back in dc, i wouldn’t be opposed to seeing him again.”

“i... donna, are you trying to break up with me?”

“no—no, of course not. what i’m trying to ask is if you would be opposed to... seeing him with me. together.”

“oh.”

josh stares into the distance for so long that donna starts to worry

“josh?”

“sorry, yeah?”

“what do you think?”

“i don’t think... sam’s fresh off an engagement. i’m not sure he would be in the headspace for a one-time thing with two of his exes. quite frankly, i’m not sure i am, either.”

“oh, i didn’t mean a one-time thing. i was thinking more... long term. if that’s something both you and he would be into.”

josh looks back at donna, the smile on his face growing

“oh. well, yeah, i... i think i’d be into that.”

and so they set up a dinner. they ask sam to come over to their place, telling him that the three of them need to talk. it’s nothing urgent, they tell him, just a long-overdue catch-up.

(and really, it is—the transition and first two months had been too busy for the three of them to sit down, regardless)

so they have dinner, and afterward, they send sam to sit on the couch in the living room while they bring down the dishes

when they finish, donna perches on the arm of couch above sam, and josh sits next to him

she starts stroking his hair, and sam, too touch-starved to think about it, just leans into her. they’d always been platonically affectionate (and donna’s kind of like that with everyone, anyway), so he’s not particularly worried.

“sammy,” josh starts, and now sam does start to worry.

josh only ever called him “sammy” when they were dating—why bring it back now?

josh keeps going. “donna and i have been talking for a while now about making a change.”

“we both love you, you know that?” donna picks up, continuing to run her fingers through sam’s hair. “and we know you love us.”

sam still can’t figure out what’s happening for the life of him

“yeah, i know,” he says quietly. “and i do.”

josh smiles at him. “we were talking, and donna reminded me that we’ve both dated you at one point or another. and the funny thing is that neither of us really ever stopped having feelings for you.”

oh, sam thinks.

“and we were wondering,” donna says, “if you might still have feelings for us.”

sam stiffens up a little bit—he’s spent so long trying to find anyone that held a candle to either of them, and now...

donna notices. “sam, honey,” she says gently (and, god, donna calling him “honey” just does something to him), “we don’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable. you’re our friend first. if this isn’t something you’re interested in, short-term or long term, we’ll drop it and we don’t ever have to speak about this again.”

“no,” he says, maybe a little too quickly. “i would definitely be interested. short-term, or long-term, or whatever you guys want.”

josh and donna share a grin that seems to say we got him.

donna stops stroking his hair. “i think we’re both very glad to hear that.”

sam almost can’t breathe when donna tips his head up and kisses him, and when she pulls away, he just stares at her until josh puts a hand on his cheek

when josh then leans in to kiss him, sam is pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven.

and when they go to bed that night, donna’s head lays on sam’s chest, her arm stretched out over his body so she can hold josh’s hand, who’s curled up on his side, his face buried in sam’s shoulder.

the collective love in the room could power the entire city of washington, d.c.

needless to say, this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

bonus:

their first call is cj because, even though she’s no longer responsible for presenting their lives to the press, they know that nobody else but her would really know what to do

when they tell her, she’s silent for a second before she says “josh, i didn’t think you were the type.”

(danny passes by and sees the shit-eating grin on her face and she just mouths “later”)

josh, of course, is very offended

“i—cj—what do you mean, not the type?”

“well, sam and donna, maybe. i can see that for them, but you seem too possessive to share.”

sam and donna look at each other and burst out laughing

“cj,” donna says, “just imagine josh but with two partners to worry about.”

they all have a nice, long laugh at that (well, not josh)

“i’m breaking up with both of you. and i’m revoking your friend card, cj.”

“oh, josh,” sam says, kissing his cheek, “you love us too much for that.”

“i was only teasing, mi amor. i’m very happy for the three of you, and i really can’t say i’m surprised,” cj’s slightly staticky voice comes through the phone.

while she does advise them to keep it discreet, she tells them to just own it if it comes out.

when they hang up, the three of them feel lighter. they told someone and it went fine.

they’re going to be okay, they think.

bonus bonus:

they take turns sleeping in the middle of the bed because equality of affection is very important to them

donna absolutely loves to call them “my men” and josh and sam call her “our girl”

they love each other. they really just love each other so much.