#God was she the worst black phantom to fight hands down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lexosaurus · 3 years ago

Text

Going Angst Week 2021: Family/Friends

Read: [1: Birth] [2: Instinct]

Continuation of the No One Knows AU plotline.

---

Everything had changed since the accident. The biological differences were obvious. He glowed, his hair inverted, his eyes turned green, he had ectoplasm running through his veins, he was cold, he didn’t need to breathe as much in human form—the list went on.

But the psychological ones were easily more terrifying.

And nothing scared him more than the way his friends and family were treating him as of late.

He knew that deep down he would never be able to match the way he acted when he was fully human. But that didn’t mean that his heart didn’t skip a beat every time someone shot him a worried glance, every time someone asked if he was alright, every time he caught himself doing something wrong.

He wasn’t human anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he was now, and Vlad seemed to have too much fun emotionally torturing him to give him a straight answer.

“You up for a movie tonight?” Tucker asked, leaning across Danny’s desk.

“Hell yeah,” Sam said. “My house?”

“Oh, you know me too well. What do you think, dude?”

Danny realized that both teens were looking to him for an answer.

He wanted to stay home. Hanging out with either of them meant there was a chance they would see him slip up, and he couldn’t have that.

“Sure.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too pained.

“Perfect!” Tucker clasped a hand down on his shoulder.

Danny tried not to duck away.

“So we’ll go to Sam’s after dinner. I can bring snacks. Anything you want in particular?”

The thought of eating anything was nauseating. “No. I’m fine.”

“Alright, I’ll just bring the usual then.”

But Danny should have known that something was up. After all, it had been a while since they’d done a movie night. And lately, Sam and Tucker had been acting...oddly.

Well, that was nothing new. Danny thought that as time went on, they’d forgive him for being a bit jumpier than usual and everything would go back to normal.

Except, of course, it didn’t.

The past few weeks had been especially hard. It seemed like they constantly had something to say, but never did. The worried glances had only increased, and the silent conversations seemed to only grow.

Danny had been trying his best to act normal, act human, but it seemed like the more he tried, the worse they’d get.

So of course, in between the first movie and second, the elephant in the room finally stomped all over Danny’s metaphorical floor.

“Hey, Danny.” Sam glanced over at Tucker. A moment passed between the two before Sam nodded and turned back to Danny. “We really need to talk to you.”

Dread pooled in his stomach. He knew exactly where this was going. “I can start the next movie if you want?”

“No, Danny. Listen, can you just sit down for a second?”

His ghostly instincts were begging him to run, but his human side forced him to sit down.

“Listen, we know that...well, Jazz told us about the lab accident.”

Danny could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

“She said it was pretty serious? And she was surprised that you hadn’t told us?” Sam fidgeted with her black rings. “We didn’t say anything to you because we wanted you to be the ones to confide in us.”

“That and we didn’t want you to get upset that we were talking to Jazz about you,” Tucker interjected.

“Right, and Jazz only told us because she was worried. And honestly? We’re really worried too.”

Any oxygen left in Danny’s body was sucked out of his throat like a vacuum.

They’d found out. They knew the truth, they knew he was a freak of nature half ghost and they were going to out him, they were going to tell his parents, they’d tell the school counselor, and Danny would have no one and he’d have to run away to become Vlad’s apprentice and he’d change, he’d be corrupted, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

“I’m just wondering why you didn’t say anything?” Sam asked, her violent eyes brimming with concern.

“I…” Danny’s mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. He tried to swallow, but it was like swallowing sand. “I didn’t want you to worry is all.”

“Yeah, and we get that,” Tucker said carefully. “But, I mean, we’re your best friends. And dude, you’ve been...well…”

At Tucker’s helpless glance, Sam took over. “You just have been acting really off lately.”

“Sorry.”

“No!” Sam nearly leapt out of her seat. “Danny, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I mean, hell, if I nearly died in a lab accident I’d be acting off too. It just, you know, it explains a lot. It must have been really terrifying.”

Danny didn’t trust himself to say anything.

How much of his personality had shifted because of Phantom, and how much had shifted because of the accident? Were his ghostly instincts really creeping up that much into his human form?

Would he ever be the same again?

Did they know?

“Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

“We’re all ears, dude.”

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t say a word. Not without outing himself as Phantom, and that was bound to backfire on him in the worst way possible.

Oh god, he was acting too suspicious. He needed to save this.

“I’m good.”

There was a beat of silence.

Sam leaned forward. “Danny...I don’t mean to sound like Jazz, but bottling stuff up isn’t—”

“I’m fine!” Danny snapped. “I didn’t say anything and I’m sorry, but you know it’s not every day like you’re nearly electrocuted to death in your parents’ ghost portal.”

“Is that what happened?” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, Danny.”

“Holy shit,” Tucker agreed.

Danny threw his arms out. “Ta da! I survived, I’m fine. Nothing to talk about.”

“Danny, I—”

“No.” His tone was final. “Drop it, seriously.”

Another beat of silence passed, and then Sam finally sighed. “Fine, but I’m telling you as your friend that if you ever need anything, we’re here for you.”

He wished he could have trusted those words. But he knew they were nothing more than a farce.

It would have been cruel to hold onto false hope.

Still, he tried to smile. “Thanks.”

Even though he knew he hadn’t fooled anyone.

---

Maddie’s POV

Maddie watched her son from across the kitchen table, just as she’d done every night for the past several weeks. Quietly, as inconspicuous as possible, always watching.

Ever since the lab accident, he’d been….different. Jack hadn’t noticed, but to Maddie the changes were far too obvious. The dropped spoons, the flash of green behind his eyes, his limbs losing visibility without him even noticing, their ecto-inventions that always seemed to go off around him.

One day, she even saw him walk through his bedroom door.

At first, she thought it was just a simple case of possession. But there were telltale signs of possession, one’s that Jack, for all his enthusiasm, always failed to take into account.

Sure, Danny’s eyes flashed green every so often, but most of the time they were blue. Human blue.

And then there was his personality. In cases of possession, the ghost would be completely controlling the body. But in Danny’s case, he was still very obviously Danny. Still the sweet boy she always knew him to be, but he was just...different. Jumpier. Scared.

Like he knew he was living a lie.

And then, just a few weeks after Danny’s run in with the portal, a new ghost appeared.

Of course, Maddie didn’t make the connection at first. The ghost was obviously new, and didn’t seem to have a grasp on its powers. Its fighting was laughable, its ectoblasts nearly always missed, and it seemed to constantly forget about its core powers.

Not to mention, its hair was white. Danny had black hair.

But then the ghost gave itself a name: Danny Phantom. And that was when Maddie decided to take a second look at it.

It was Danny’s height and build, its voice sounded similar to Danny’s, it seemed to know all of Danny’s classmates, it used a Fenton thermos, it wore a hazmat suit that looked eerily similar to the ones in their basement closet—not to mention that Danny’s hazmat suit had gone missing recently.

On its own, one small correlation didn’t mean anything. But when the little similarities kept piling up, then Maddie had to draw some sort of conclusion.

Just what was the conclusion though?

The Danny across the table had gone to school like any other human child, he’d eaten his meals like anyone else, he’d hung out with his human friends, he talked with his human family. On paper, he seemed normal.

Human.

But his grades were in a downwards spiral, Jazz had expressed concern about him and his friends, he’d been breaking curfew, and there were times when she’d peak into his room at night to find him gone.

He could have been just experiencing trauma from the accident. Maybe he was rebelling. There were so many explanations for his behavior that didn’t involve ghosts.

But then he’d do something ghostly or a weapon would beep around him or Phantom would fly nearby, and her red flags would be raised once again.

Maddie learned long ago to trust her red flags.

The Danny across the table took a bite of his salad, and his face immediately scrunched up.

Maddie felt sick.

He swallowed, and Maddie could see his eyes watering. “Is there something wrong with the lettuce, Mom?”

She feigned innocence. “Hmm?”

“I don’t know,” he prodded a carrot on his plate. “Something just seems off.”

“Tastes fine to me,” Maddie said. “I just bought this lettuce today. Jazz, is yours okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

Maddie suppressed a grin. She could always count on her “facts and research only” daughter.

“It could be the dressing? I used a new brand tonight. It’s healthier than the other stuff.”

That, or it was the small amount of blood blossoms she’d blended into the vinaigrette.

“Maybe.”

But it couldn’t end here. She needed to know. She was a scientist, she had to see the experiment through.

“Eat the rest of your salad, honey. I’ll buy the other brand tomorrow, okay?”

Danny carefully put another forkful of salad into his mouth. He gave a small wince, but swallowed.

“Good boy,” she said. “I have fudge in the fridge for when you’re done.”

“Oh, fudge?” Jack exclaimed. He shoveled the rest of his salad into his mouth. With a mouth full of food, he said, “Thanks, Mads! You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome sweetie!”

Jazz made a face. “Gross, Dad.”

Jack laughed and bantered back at his daughter, but Maddie had already tuned out of the conversation. Her only focus was on Danny, whose face was now just too flushed to be healthy. Still, he forced himself to eat.

There was just no question. No doubt about it.

No matter how Maddie looked at it, this was proof enough.

Danny Fenton wasn’t human. The portal hadn’t nearly killed him, it probably did kill him. And now here he was, pretending to still be a part of the family while using Phantom to distract them from the fact that he was a ghost.

It was a truly elaborate ploy. And if Maddie was anyone else, his plans probably would have worked.

But she was Maddie Fenton. She had a PhD in ectobiology. She’d been researching ghosts for twenty years.

Dinner ended, and the children went upstairs to do homework. Although, if Maddie looked, she was sure Danny wouldn’t actually be in his room. And if she went outside, like she’d done in nights past, there was no doubt she’d see Phantom soaring through the skies.

But she knew. She knew. She knew.

She slipped a white business card out of her jacket pocket, grabbed her cell off the counter, went into her bedroom, and dialed the number.

It rang once, then twice, then stopped. A deep voice sounded from the other line. “Maddie Fenton? I figured I’d be hearing back from you. Have you made your decision?”

“Yes.” Her voice was mechanical, as if she’d only called about a malfunctioning weapon. “I have. I agree to the partnership.”

“Excellent. And the terms are to your liking?”

“Yes.”

“Understood. We’ll be in touch tomorrow to sign the official contract. Will your husband be involved in this, or are you working alone?”

Maddie closed her eyes. “The contract will be for my name only.”

“All right, then. We’ll talk tomorrow. You won’t regret this.”

“I know.”

---

#danny phantom #the life cycle of a half ghost #going angst week 2021 #phicc #my writing

118 notes · View notes

violetnotez · 4 years ago

Note

fic or whatever concept: fushiguro is in love w the reader but they have a huge crush on yuuji and it’s just megumi suffering as the reader and yuuji get together and they’re actually really,,, happy??? and in love???

This is the shit I LIVE FOR -also I made a whole playlist for this idea-you can watch the vid here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Megumi x reader (not really?), Yuuji x reader

Songs to Listen to: Treat You Better (but the Kurt Hugo version, seriously, thank me later!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Maybe if he had tried harder, this wouldn’t have ended up like this. He just felt alone, empty, with nothing to show but a broken heart and head full of bitter dreams.

Did he fool himself? That maybe, some miraculous way, he would have won?

Megumi lay on his bed, worn sweatshirt making his skin crawl and his black sweats uncomfortable to wear, his toes curling from disgust.

Nothing could get his mind off of you, even months after you started dating Yuuji.

It almost got worse, now that you were off limits.

Funny how it works like that.

His brain seemed to just always want to think of you-the way your voice seemed to sparkle when you yell out his name, the way you look too damn cute when you’d walk out of your dorm room in the morning, hair messy and feet bare-

Fuck fuck fuck.

Megumi groaned, placing a hand on his forehead and smoothing his hair back in exasperation.

You weren’t his, and you’d never be his-he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were dating his best friend after all-didn’t he have any shame?

Even though he was in so much heart ache, so much pain from the fact he couldn’t have you.....he couldn’t ever hate his friend from taking you away from him.

Yuuji was good to you, and painfully, he had to admit Yuuji was better than him in every way as a boyfriend.

Yuuji was sociable, able to strike up a conversation and make everyone feel like his best friend-Megumi wasn’t like that.

Yuuji wasn’t afraid of physical touch, constantly having a hand on your hip to keep you near him or swinging you around lovingly like he hadn’t seen you in years- he was terrified of physical touch.

Yuuji was strong, powerful, and able to protect you from the world- he couldn’t say the same for himself.

Megumi’s insecurities were infesting his body, gnawing at his bones, squirming through his muscles and into his skin, making his jaw clench and nails dig deep into his skin from disgust within himself.

Why hadn’t he at least fucking tried?

But he had been too placid, too worried of rejection, too worried of ruining your friendship-

But then again....he was just too selfless. He was willing to let everyone around him surpass him if it meant they would win, thrive, and live happy lives- even if it meant he had to suffer the consequence.

Megumi squeezed the white sheets around him, twisting them into tight spirals around his digits.

He let it happen again-he had succumbed to that fear.

Years worth of affection, years worth of admiration and dedication-washed away like it never happened., because of it And now he was dealing with the repercussion with phantoms of what could have been, with the jealousy, and a broken heart.

Megumi shifted in his bed, feeling his sweatshirt stick to his back, his hand reached out to grasp at the white beams of moonlight drifting into his room.

What would have happened if he had said no that day? Would anything have changed-if he had admitted that he did like you, that he had wanted to call you his?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He remembers that day like it was yesterday, that feeling of dread filling in his stomach as if he knew something was about to change, the shift of energy making an icy chill run along his back.

Yuuji has been behind him, leaving training as they usually do with his hands in his pockets.

It was quiet, the hallways empty except for the two of them, the wooden floors making soft clicks as it reacted to their footsteps. It should have felt peaceful, a soft breeze fluttering in from the opened windows as the sun began to set outside. But that errie sensation was still boiling in Megumi’s gut, that gnawing feeling of dread making him unable to enjoy the peace.

“Hey man, I wanted to ask you something real quick,” Yuuji’s voice stopped Megumi in his tracks, his feet halting with an echo in the empty corridor.

Megumi turned around slowly, tentatively, almost too worried to face what was behind him.

Maybe at this time he knew what was about to happen, the feeling of dread settling.

“Sure,” he simply stated, shrugging nonchalantly as the golden sun set the room in a red hue.

“This might be a little personal,” Yuuji began, hands placed in the pockets of his sweatshirt still, “but I got a question about y/n.”

Yuuji looked at him, staring him down like two men in a duel. He was serious, more serious than Megumi had seen him in a long time.

“I know you guys are pretty close...”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Megumi stated, swallowing a ball of saliva down his dry throat.

“Well, I-“ Yuuji sighed, pink hair swaying as he looked down at the floor quickly, almost preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

“I-I wanted to ask them out.....out on a date....”

“- it okay with you?”

Megumi’s eyes widened in shock, the his whole body feeling as if hit by a ton of bricks from Yuuji’s words.

This was it-the worst case scenario, the worst thing he knew was happening but didn’t want to admit.

Megumi tried to recover quickly, his eyes slanting back down to unamused slits in a matter of seconds.

“Why are you asking me?” he questioned, trying to keep the growing panic inside him at bay,” It’s not like I dictate who she dates.”

“I think you know why.”

“I don’t.”

“Fushigoro-“

Megum sighed violently, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight the growing pain in his heart.

“I don’t dictate your life-I don’t dictate them-and you don’t dictate mine. Do whatever the hell you want-“

“I won’t date them unless you say it’s okay for me to Fushigoro.”

Itadori’ voice had none of that boyish, playful tone to it. It was more mature than Megumi had even heard it-but something behind it was different.

It was almost like there was this desperateness to it- Yuuji needed him to say yes. Yuuji so badly wanted to call you his-just like him.

“You can say no-“ Itadori rushed on, eyes intense with anticipation, “-I won’t think less of you or hate you for it.”

Megumi watched as he shuffled uncomfortably, the knowledge that he just admitted his crush making him slightly sheepish as he scratched the back of his head.

“Hell, I know I would-” he said truthfully, “ I just don’t want to ruin our friendship by going behind your back.”

Fuck, Megumi wanted to fight for you. He wanted to so so badly.

Megumi had known you for longer, you two were close friends, he had a connection to you-didn’t he deserve to be yours after being so dedicated to only you?

Fushigoro was there for when you cried over your stresses, rubbing your back patiently as you let everything out of you, summoning his animals because he knew how much they made you happy.

He was there for your late night study sessions, the lighting hazy as the pouring rain pounded on the window, cleaning up your room of the papers and flashcards after he convinced you to go to sleep.

He trained with you when you worried you weren’t strong enough, always making sure to congratulate you in someway, fighting the redness in his cheeks after you had successfully completed a new move, your skin dangerously close to his.

God, he had waited for so long-why did the world have to fuck him over? Why did his best friend, out of all the people in the world he could form a crush on, like you like that?

But looking at Yuuji, he knew he wouldn’t win this war. Him and Yuuji were very similar in their passion and devotion, but the simple difference between them was Yuuji wasn’t afraid to be selfish.

Megumi was accustomed to backing down for everyone, sacrificing himself so the people he loved could succeed. It was an awful habit of his, maybe due to his insecurities, maybe just a routine he learned at this point, he would never know- but the fact was he knew that Yuuji would never stop fighting for you. Even if Megumi screamed at him, cursed at him, told him to fuck off and leave you alone-Yuuji wouldn’t ever stop loving you. Itadori would respect Megumi’s wishes, but he would still protect you, fight for you, and love you with everything in him.

And that much devotion coming from someone as charismatic and kind like that-what person wouldnt fall for that?

Megumi sighed, his heart breaking in two at the sudden realization hit him-he was too weak to be any threat to Yuuji.

”You’re not going behind my back.” He finally said, looking down at the floor as the self loathing boiled in his stomach.

“But you-“

“I don’t. Like them.” Megumi was seething, hating every fiber in his body for doing this to himself. Each word was choppy, the sentence laced with sternness and bitterness.

“-Do whatever the hell you want.”

Megumi needed to leave, and leave quick. He hadn’t felt this emotional in a long time, and he didn’t want Yuuji to start thinking that he was actually bothered by all of this.

He turned on his heel, ready to get out of there as quickly as possible-

“Hey Megumi- you really okay with this? This won’t change our friendship? I won’t do this unless youre okay-“

Yuuji took a step forward, hand reaching out to his friend as a peace offering, a sheepish smile on his lips.

Megumi turned, his chest tightening as he looked down at his hand, too tired to reach out for it and pretend like he didn’t hate his friend at this moment.

“They dont like me. They like you- I see it. You’ll make them happy, and that’s all I want for them.”

Yuuji smiled , seemingly content with his quiet friend’s answer.

“Thanks man,”

Megumi turned again, head hanging low as he quickly left the corridor, desperate to get out of there.

“Tell me thank you when they say yes.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He groaned, letting the painful memories overtake him as he turned his back to the wall.

It just hurt-maybe he would get over all of this one day, but right now he couldnt.

As if on cue to deepen his torture, he heard a giggle from you across his room, the muffled noise of Yuuji’s voice making him cringe.

Thin ass walls-you were probably visiting Yuuji again for the night, staying up all night to watch movies.....

This was destroying him-but he couldnt ever blame you for it, because you were oblivious to his love for you. He had made sure you would never catch on- and now you would never know because he was too cowardly to ever say it.

God, what he’d do to have the roles switched though...with you breaking school rules to come visit him at night, to here that sweet laugh in his room, to feel your head cuddle into his chest, or see you slowly begin to wake up in the morning....

Megumi felt a pain in his chest at the wanting feeling that would never fully be satiated gnaw at his chest, his hands despertedly grabbing at his pillow and shoving it against his ear.

He didnt want to hear you, he didnt want to see you...at this moment he didnt want anything to do with you or Yuuji.

This hurt too much...

Fuck, he really screwed up.

166 notes · View notes

avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years ago

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

52 notes · View notes

thecasperanfamily · 3 years ago

Note

Can we get a sock monkey part two? Maybe taking place in the present?

(Link to Part One)

I am sooooo sorry about the delay on this one. First I had a solid week of ADHD Brain Doing Its Thing, then a dentist appointment, then my bedroom flooded, then a migraine...ANYWAYS I hope this was worth the wait!

~~~~~

They say that behind every great wizard, there is a great witch. Whether or not this was a universal truth or just a nice-sounding sentiment someone came up with to discourage squabbling between witches and wizards, Lin couldn’t be sure. But he did know that it was true in his father’s case, if nothing else. Hisirdoux Casperan was an immensely powerful wizard in his own right, capable of feats of magic unlike anything seen since the age of the great Merlin Ambrosius. But he was also what Lin’s mother liked to affectionately call “a mess. An absolute disaster. Gods, it’s a marvel you’ve survived this long.” To which Douxie would inevitably reply with, “The only marvel is you, my love.” And Lin would always immediately leave the room because he had no desire to witness whatever came after that. But Douxie did have a point, albeit one that felt a bit lost underneath all the sap and sentimentality. The fact of the matter was that Master Wizard Hisirdoux Casperan likely couldn’t be a Master Wizard without his wife. Archie could protect Douxie in battle, Nari could heal and encourage him, but Zoe was their last and strongest line of defense. Be it a desperate struggle against an ancient and horrifying monster or simply keeping the household running, when all others fell, she continued to stand, often pulling them back up and keeping them on their feet with her own strength. Douxie once said that he could face his own fears because he knew Zoe was standing fearless by his side.

In hindsight, he really should have chosen his words more carefully. Because when Lin handed his mother his oldest, most beloved toy from childhood and asked her to repair it, “fearless” certainly wasn’t what came to mind when beholding the look of intense discomfort on Zoe’s face as she eyed the offending object.

“...It looks normal to me,” she said stiffly.

“It....there’s a massive rip on her side?” Lin replied hesitantly. “That’s not supposed to be there. And Comet tore off one of her eyes, too.” The boy shifted awkwardly, still cradling the abomination in his hands, since Zoe had refused to touch it. “I-I mean, I know it’s stupid, but Georgina--uh, I mean, this old thing...it means a lot to me. Been with me for a long time, and all. I just--”

“Fine, fine, I’ll patch it up for you,” Zoe blurted, snatching the cursed thing from his hands. “Now go get ready for school. You’re running late as is.”

“...It’s Saturday,” Lin reminded her.

“Then go bother Archie or something. I can’t fix this thing if you’re breathing down my neck the whole time. Restorative magic requires concentration.”

“...I’ve seen you piece a broken mug back together in five seconds flat while also fighting the endgame boss of War Dudes 7.”

“Out, Lin.”

“Alright, alright!” He raised his hands placatingly and swept out of the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder “Thanks, Mom!”

The moment he was out of sight, Zoe pitched the sock monkey as hard as she could against the opposite wall. It landed on the counter with a sad little flop, looking no less abominable for its current state of disrepair.

“I hate you,” she told it quietly. “I know you know I do. I can see it in your one remaining eye. I’ve endured your mockery of me for the past seventeen years for Lin’s sake, but this...” She raked her fingers through her bangs furiously. “...Oh, get a grip, Zoe,” she muttered. “It’s just a stuffed animal. It’s only ever been a stuffed animal. It will never best me. I’m one of the greatest hedgewitches of my time. I am Zoe Casperan, I am she who remains when the masters have fallen, I am--”

“Introducing yourself to someone, are you?”

Douxie was very fortunate that he did not touch Zoe when he spoke up from behind her, because the pulse of electricity that surged through her veins would have certainly laid him flat on his back for at least a week. As it was, Zoe’s wand was pointed at his throat before he could so much as blink, a few angry pink sparks spitting from the end.

“Woah, woah, okay, nope, bad time for jokes, I got it! Take it easy, love.”

“Don’t do that!” Zoe hissed, stuffing her wand back into her belt as her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I could have hurt you.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Douxie replied, taking one of her hands and pressing an apologetic kiss to her knuckles. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.”

“Stop being sweet.” Zoe grumbled. “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting you from what, exactly?”

“Lin wants me to patch up that...thing that Barbara gave him all those years ago.” She flapped a hand at the sock monkey sprawled pathetically across the counter.

“I didn’t even realize he still had that,” Douxie remarked, taking in the damage with a critical eye. “Mm. She’s certainly seen better days.”

“I want it to see worse,” Zoe seethed. “...But Lin still loves it, gods only know why.”

“Bit of a moral conundrum, eh? Take your vengeance on your worst enemy and break our son’s heart, or grant her mercy for Lin’s sake.”

“This isn’t funny, Douxie.”

“It is, just a little bit.”

“You know I can’t stand even looking at that reject voodoo doll. How am I supposed to cast a restoration spell when all I want to do is douse this thing in gasoline and throw it on a bonfire?”

“Attempting a restoration spell with that mindset would likely end very badly,” Douxie agreed. “My feelings towards the lady in question are far less hostile. Perhaps I should take this one for you.”

“No! No, I-I...” Zoe sighed and ran a hand through her bangs yet again. “...I don’t want this thing to get the better of me. I’ve never backed down from a challenge before, and I definitely don’t want this to be my first time. Besides, you’re pretty sloppy when it comes to restoration magic. Lin will know right away who performed the spell just by looking at it, and I don’t want him to feel like I let him down.”

“With the utmost respect, Zoe,” Douxie replied hesitantly. “I think Lin would prefer a messy patch job over the many ways this spell could backfire if you’re the one performing it. You do understand that swallowing your pride isn’t the same as cowardice, right?”

“Pride or not, I will not let my son experience the shame of knowing his mother was defeated by an ugly stuffed animal,” Zoe countered. She stalked up to the counter and arranged the bedraggled sock monkey carefully, nose wrinkling in disgust as she ran her fingers over the material.

“Zoe, darling--” Douxie tried to protest again.

“Shush. I need to concentrate.”

“I really think you ought to let me--”

“I said shush, Douxie. I know I can do this.” She brandished her wand and, with a few quick motions, guided her aura to surround the sock monkey, which began to float a few inches off the counter. She pushed back against the wave of revulsion that crashed over her as her spirit made contact with the cursed object, and managed to spit the spell out through clenched teeth. “Refectio.”

The moment the spell was activated, Zoe knew she had made a mistake. The feeling of disgust she had tried so hard to stifle refused to detach from her aura. Her magic flowed out of her in a hot, angry rush, and the sock monkey writhed and contorted as though possessed.

“Zoe!” Douxie pulled her back from the counter, arms wrapping around her as his own aura flared defensively. The sock monkey gave one final shudder, then flopped back onto the counter.

“It’s fine!” Zoe insisted. “Look, see? It’s fixed.” Indeed, the sock monkey appeared to have been restored to mint condition. The rip had closed, the missing eye had returned from wherever Comet had hidden it, and the old stuffing had softened and puffed out again. “I told you I could do it.”

“That could have been a disaster, Zoe,” Douxie scolded.

“Any spell has the potential to be a disaster,” she argued. “But I had to try. And I feel so much better now that--”

The sock monkey twitched.

Douxie’s arms tightened around her, and Zoe instinctively brandished her wand again. The toy twitched again. Then it shuddered. Then it flopped over. And then, like a phantom from a nightmare, rose to its feet and slowly turned to face them, black button eyes cold and lifeless.

“...Okay, yeah, this is a disaster,” Zoe breathed. The sock monkey hovered in place for a moment longer.

Then suddenly, it was zooming across the kitchen. Douxie shoved Zoe to the side, but the vengeful toy didn’t seem to notice her at all. It gleefully slammed into the Master Wizard’s head and began wrapping itself around his face. He stumbled back and fell against the counter, sending a few dirty dishes crashing to the floor as he clawed at the soft little demon that was attempting to suffocate him.

“NO!” Zoe screeched, and before she could think twice, there was a blinding flash of bright pink light and the crackling snap of a thunderbolt. The sock monkey exploded into a cloud of stuffing and fibers that fluttered to the floor and dissolved into ash.

Zoe dropped to her knees, wand still outstretched in her trembling hand. Douxie leaned back against the counter, sucking in huge gulps of air.

“...Well,” he wheezed. “At least you finally got your revenge.”

“...No. Oh, no no no,” Zoe whimpered, dropping her wand and burying her face in her hands. “Oh gods, what have I... Lin is going to... Gods, Douxie I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” She emerged from her hands to see him giving her a thumbs-up and a sympathetic smile.

“The only damage done was emotional,” he assured her. “...At least where I’m concerned.” His gaze drifted across the floor, taking in the ashes scattered all over it. Silence hung between them for a few long minutes. “...What do we do now?”

“...Do you have your phone on you?” Zoe asked. Douxie nodded. “Give it here.” He pulled the item in question out of his pocket and tossed it over to her. She scrolled through his contacts list until she found the name she was looking for, then pressed call. Douxie pulled himself to his feet and began searching for a broom. There was a click on the other end of the line.

“Barbara Lake speaking.”

“Hey, Barbara? It’s Zoe. ...Yeah, I’m using Douxie’s phone. Long story short, we’ve had a bit of an accident and I need to know where you got Lin’s sock monkey from...”

*****

“Hey, Lin.” Lin looked up from his sketchbook to find his mother standing in his bedroom doorway. “Catch.” She tossed a familiar grey and white figure at him.

“Wow. She looks like new,” he observed, turning the sock monkey over in his hands. “...Very new.”

“Yeah. That’s...why it took me longer than usual to fix her. Take good care of her, alright? I don’t want to have to fix her again any time soon.”

“Yep. Thanks, Mom.” He watched her leave, then looked back down at the toy. “...Huh. I don’t remember you ever having these tags, Georgina...” The sock monkey smiled up at him benignly. “Weird.” He shrugged and sat the stuffed animal up on his desk before bending over his sketchbook once more.

Meanwhile, Zoe went to brew herself a very strong cup of herbal tea.

A very special thanks to @poetryinmotion-author and @rikalovesrice for helping me with this one, and to @dreamsarelikedragonflies for beta reading. ✨

#tales of arcadia #toa #the casperan family #douxie #toa zoe #zouxie #lin casperan #fic #niki answers

16 notes · View notes

ramblingguy54 · 4 years ago

Text

Escape From The Impossibin!: An Exercise Of Trust & Hope.

So, I was predicting for this episode to have Della & Louie bonding time together, which there were cool moments with them to be sure. However, what I really liked about today’s story was how it focused on the aftermath of FOWL’s reveal to still be very much alive to Scrooge’s horror and Beakly’s greatly underlying concern. A couple of days ago before Impossibin premiered today, I chatted with some others on Discord about what this episode’s story would explore for its overall message, which the more I thought about, the more I leaned on the idea it would be centered around the notion of trust. Let’s Get Dangerous had a consistent theme of deceitful liars being revealed who weren’t whom they appeared to be, as seen with Taurus Bulba vs Drake Mallard & Bradford’s true nature being known to Scrooge at that hour special’s ending.

Escape From The Impossibin is all about confronting the growing tension that’s become a threat to a content family lineage of adventurers, who now have to defend everything they stand for in their legacy, once again. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about DuckTales is even when it doesn’t entirely match my predictions, it finds other new ways to surprise me for what it can do. Della & Louie didn’t necessarily get the bonding time I had hoped for, which did admittedly disappoint me, but they did a serve a purpose in their own right that I’ll get to later. Anyways, the spotlight is on the older mentor figures, Scrooge McDuck and Bentina Beakly, who are all too familiar in dealing with FOWL’s antagonism before in Season 1′s episode, The Confidential Case Files Of Agent 22, that especially applies to Beakly’s past in fighting them as an agent of SHUSH for very much longer compared to Scrooge. With how much is at stake you’d very much expect there to be old feelings being drudged up, regarding Scrooge’s trust and respect for Bradford, as well as Beakly’s strict over protective nature with Webby to keep her safe from losing that optimism that makes her stand out as a beacon of hope to inspire others, which they do. FOWL isn’t like Magica or Lunaris who want to make themselves known flat out to the world with their egos. They’re very cunning and cold blooded with going about executing their plans for control of the Earth. Particularly, Bradford is the serious threat most of all because he’s the brains of this outfit giving precision in each order to those under his command. Combine Bradford’s knowledge with the muscle of Steelbeak, Rockerduck’s underhanded scheming, Gandra Dee’s scientific intellect, Black Heron’s lust for more power, and Phantom Blot’s ability to absorb all kinds of magic that gives the McDucks’ a severe scenario they’ve never faced. FOWL is the right combination to put an end to Scrooge’s adventuring because Bradford has kept a close eye on him for so many years. Bradford has seen plenty of Scrooge at his total best and worst most of all. He’s studied upon every detail of Scrooge’s life, for who knows how many years, and is finally putting all of it to use against him, where we get to see the extent of just how well Bradford can read every one of his moves. Lunaris’ intellect was simply a figurative puddle compared to what Bradford managed to accomplish with his high IQ.

The scary thing is Scrooge knows this reality himself, too.

That’s one of my favorite elements of Impossibin’s purpose. We get to see Scrooge seriously doubt his abilities. In episodes, like The Most Dangerous Game Night and The 87 Cents Solution, Scrooge has always prided himself in being a very sharp individual who could see every angle and any detail that others couldn’t. Bradford, on the other hand, rivals Scrooge’s thinking that puts an eerie perspective on things for the old man. Scrooge always thought to be one step ahead of the game, but then realizes that someone who’s been by his side for so very long played him like a fiddle all those years. Who’s to say Scrooge isn’t probably thinking back on stuff such as Bradford shutting down his rescue operation for Della, controlling his money usage, letting Louie hang around Bradford in The Richest Duck In The World, finalizing Gyro’s inventions, etc? Scrooge realizes he’s had a dangerous character around the family manor all those years, which makes him doubt his ability to trust himself in protecting everything that he holds importantly in life. Scrooge isn’t just thinking he��s been fooled, he’s doubting every aspect of what made him competent to begin with. Doesn’t help among this moment of self reflection Bradford is there to further rub in that harsh reality of how much he knows about Scrooge.

This moment gave me chills because it completely put a spin upon the story’s concept. I figured that FOWL would hack Scrooge’s security system, with help from Gandra Dee’s abilities, and I’m glad it went this route, since it shows how dangerous things are this time. They’re not even safe within the confines of their own manor anymore, considering Bradford knows every nook and cranny of it. Scrooge thought only he knew the security system’s password, given its based on the amount of all money in his money bin, but Bradford covered that crucial detail, too. Bradford isn’t leaving any loose ends toward Scrooge in how he’ll go about using any little thing against him for future reference. That’s what makes the stakes higher here than compared to Lunaris’ invasion. This is a much more personal story between a clash of ideals with Adventuring vs Control. Lunaris lacked that emotional connection here Bradford is making Scrooge have to face that adds another layer of tension to this situation. Bradford wants Scrooge to know, “I have control over you. There is nothing you know that I’ve already figured out about yourself.”, and going about hacking the robotic version of himself is the best way to send home that message to him. It can also be interpreted as symbolism for Scrooge fighting his own insecurities when Bradford takes control of the robot to start attacking.

I need you, the two most cunning individuals I know, to spot any weaknesses.

Now, Della & Louie did serve a big purpose, despite the Plot A point focusing greatly on Scrooge’s existential dilemma, for they were there to remind Scrooge of just how much of an impact his life style has had on them. Della & Louie’s teamwork together throughout the episode is a perfect way to give Scrooge a reality check reminder for how skilled they are as adventurous fighters against unknown dangers. After all, Scrooge passed on his skills to Della, who’d later pass down her intellectual skills to him, too. Again, tying into the whole theme of legacy and what not about how much family can bring out the best in each other. If it wasn’t for what Scrooge had taught them, then he wouldn’t have been saved by Louie’s defining act of being a badass, by willingly diving into the pile of money, which got hit by a gravity changing rosa rune from the robot and ended up crushing it. I wanted to see more mature Louie, so him lifting Scrooge up about how much pride he has in the family lineage was a great nod to it. That in turn, allowed Scrooge to remember why he and their family are strong together. You know, after recent events that have happened in my life, seeing legacy be explored in DuckTales Season 3 means a lot to me now more than ever.

As for Beakly’s B Plot, in terms of how it ties into a neat bow with Scrooge’s story, shows how intense she’s getting at the notion of eventually facing FOWL again. Honestly, I’m not surprised if she’s getting flashbacks of whatever painful or traumatic events happened to her in those Agent 22 days. I mean, for God’s sake, she tells Webby to straight up incapacitate Huey, who was already so scared. Something Webby refuses to agree with as the best course of training methods to better prepare against the greater threat. Beakly’s characterization has always fascinated me with how well she guards her vulnerability, kind of like Goldie in a way, but the difference here is outta great concern for others rather than herself. My mind can’t stop thinking about this scene, as there could most likely be underlying context for why Beakly is getting so worked up over this training. It seems Beakly is carrying a tremendous weight on her shoulders, probably some heavy angst, that it looks like she wants to say, but can’t because of bigger story reasons we’ll find out later in Season 3′s final batch of episodes. Special mention to Donald Duck putting his foot down on Beakly’s very intense training session. Donald knows the trials and errors of what it means to be a parent. He was once very overly protective of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, but learned to let them experience the world for what it is and not hold them back, so I liked how it ties into Beakly’s dilemma of trying to protect Webby from FOWL’s heartless nature.

Beakly’s plot may have not gotten much focus, but it did a very good job setting up more angst to come between her and Webby’s relationship. Things are gonna get very complicated between them when more things come to light. I’m keeping an eye on Huey’s line specifically. When he said, “The one thing we know for sure is that we trust each other, right?”, Beakly did want to bring herself to apologize of course, but I also think she was close to wanting to confess something else to Webby, too. I’m expecting this moment to be called back to when stuff hits the fan with Beakly’s past and whatever Webby’s origins are.

Escape From the Impossibin may have unsettling stuff lurking around the corner with how FOWL managed to distract them with the security system, so they could steal away every missing mystery the family has found so far, but there’s a glimmer of light in all of that darkness. A light that is a reminder of what makes the McDuck family an unstoppable force of trust, hope, and most importantly love. Frank said that things were gonna start going into overdrive with FOWL’s battle against McDuck and he wasn’t kidding around. I’m so overjoyed were getting more episodes in November after this episode finished because that would’ve been a painful wait. Season 3 is gonna start giving things it built up a big pay off and I’m totally here for that!

#ducktales spoilers #escape from the impossibin!#ducktales season 3 #scrooge mcduck #bentina beakly #webby vanderquack #ducktales 2017 #della duck #louie duck

60 notes · View notes

danganronpa-21 · 4 years ago

Text

Naegiri Week Day 3 - Sunset

Happy third day of Naegiri Week! In my personal opinion, this is probably my favourite piece that I’ve written this year. It’s a sweet one with just a twinge of angst. As with the past two pieces, I have no warnings to issue aside from a little bit of graphically violent metaphor. It’s a blink and you’ll miss it kind of thing though, so there’s no need to worry too much. I hope you enjoy the piece, and that I have done our beautiful couple some justice.

________________________

A boy and a girl stood on top of the school building; their gazes turned towards the sky. The day was in the process of dying slowly, the natural cerulean fading away, melting into colours the likes of which they almost never got to see. Life so often dragged them away from something as simple as watching the sky’s transitions. Before, when the times would begin to change, they would spend their time preparing for cram school or going out to do extra work. They nearly never took notice of the refashioning. Maybe, if they were lucky, they’d stop for a second and remark to themselves about its beauty. Their eyes would catch just a hint of the rosy pinks and fruity oranges, and they could smile to themselves about what a nice view they would have during their journeys. Then, just as they always did, they would move along with their day. Never taking notice of the sky again, and missing it turn to something much more beautiful than what they had previously seen.

Getting to ignore a sunset, they quickly realized, was a privilege. A privilege that they could no longer have. When the Biggest, Most Awful, Most Despair-Inducing Incident in human history came to fruition, there was no time for trivial things like watching a sunset. Every day melted into a flurry of rioting, fighting, and danger that could eat them alive if they weren’t careful. The students of Hope’s Peak Academy got the worst of it, and Makoto and Kyoko were no exception to this rule. Walking onto campus every morning was gambling for one’s life as the Parade clamoured for justice at the gates. Makoto’s own parents had been so terrified of him getting assaulted on his way from their house to the school that they’d begged the headmaster to set him up in a dorm for the time being. And since Jin Kirigiri was a slightly foolish, but not entirely unreasonable man, he obliged. In the end, however, it only made things a little better. He and Kyoko still promised to walk every day to and from class together every day, just to be sure that the other would arrive safely.

It was no real life that the two of them were living, but then again, they wondered if anybody’s life was much of anything at this point. This wave of anger that consumed more than just Tokyo. It reigned across the entirety of Japan, and bled even further. Neighbouring countries began to get caught up in the tide, and then their neighbours came in, and then their allies, and then their enemies. Before anyone could so much as breathe a word of soothing nature, the world had sliced itself open and soaked its people with its bloody rage. Now, all anyone could do was attempt to rinse themselves off and stitch up the wounds. There was nothing anyone could do about the fact that some were determined to keep opening new ones. Especially not at Hope’s Peak – as far as everyone was concerned, Jin offered the students as much protection as he could give.

Makoto just wished there was more. Not just on his side of things, but on the side of the Reserve Course students as well. He could have been in their shoes, had he not been so lucky. Hell, he probably would have been one of the students even further on the outside, who couldn’t even breathe the same air as a Hope’s Peak student. If they wanted to send him there on money alone, one of them would have had to fork over a kidney to the black market just to get enough. His family was not financially stable enough for that, and he felt certain that many of the Reserve Course kids were not that financially stable either. Yet there they were, clamouring even as the sun began to drift off to sleep. He wished they would, too. At the very least, he took comfort in the fact that their numbers were dwindling for the day.

“They look so small down there.”

Kyoko’s voice was flatter than soda in the sun. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he might have thought her uninvested in the situation.

“They do.” He muttered; his gaze fixed on a pair of boys picking a fight with the head of security. The sight of their shouting and waving their fists made him cringe. Juzo Sakakura was an alumnus of Hope’s Peak; the Super High School Level Boxer to be more specific. Not exactly the kind of man that anyone should want to mess with, especially on account of his hot temper. Pity stirred within him when he thought about how this would end. “Sakakura-san will crush them like small bugs, too.”

She nodded curtly. “They should know better than to mess with him. He and the others have beaten up more than their fair share of Reserve Course students already.”

Makoto bit his lip, wishing he had it within himself to do something. He was a small fish in a big pond. What could he possibly do? There was no control to be had over this situation, and yet he craved it.

“I don’t know what they think that’s going to accomplish.”

“Well, my understanding is that they think this will earn them some sort of equality or change, but so far their attempts haven’t born fruit-”

“No,” he cut in, surprised even by his own interruption, “That’s not what I meant.”

She blinked at him; her expression unchanging. Not even a twitch of the eyebrow or the lip to tell him what she was thinking. The girl was somewhere beyond neutral at this point, but she didn’t seem keen on showing it. “What did you mean, then?”

“I don’t understand why the school hasn’t given in or tried to fix things. I’m surprised the police haven’t gotten involved,” heart thundering in his head, he continued, “Do you know if the school’s paying them hush money, or something?”

Ah. A frown etched itself into her face within a matter of seconds, clearly the product of dredged up memories. So there was a little bit of emotion hiding behind that iron mask. Her father had had a case for her a few weeks back, after all. Though she refused to share many details, what she did tell him was that he suspended the case rather abruptly. He even went as far as saying that he “wasn’t satisfied with her work”. Her eyes had been glassy when she told him that. Keeping himself from pulling her into his arms had been more difficult than one might have expected.

“I haven’t spoken to my father since the case.” Her eyebrows knitted themselves together as she glared at the students below. “Nor do I have any desire to speak to him again about much of anything.”

Makoto could think to do nothing else but nod. “I don’t blame you. You were pretty upset after the whole thing.”

“Should I not have been?” Her arms folded across her chest. “It was as if he gave me the case just to humiliate me by taking it away later. Not that it matters anyway. He doesn’t really care about the investigation. The one thing I know for certain is that he doesn’t care as much about the Steering Committee as he pretends he does.”

Why would he not do something if that were the case? Was he honestly just sitting around twiddling his thumbs? He definitely tried not to make his impressions on people he didn’t know based on what others told him, but this seemed a little too suspicious to swallow.

“What do you mean?” He dared to ask, shuffling slightly closer to her. Her refusal to meet his gaze remained rather blatant, but her face relaxed slowly.

“He has little impact on the school overall,” she sighed, tucking a strand of hair back into place, “Jin Kirigiri is Hope’s Peak headmaster in title more than anything. They attempt to take his ideas into account, but he is a figurehead first and foremost.”

“So he can’t do anything about the protests?”

Kyoko shrugged. “He probably has been trying to, but the committee will not allow him that privilege.”

His fingers gripped at his hoodie sleeves, as if to beg him to ground them in some way. If it weren’t for the cool air brushing delicately against his face, he might have thought himself to be in a movie scene. If Kyoko’s father really was doing all that he could, what chance did they have against the world? Things were already so close to falling off the edge into a chasm of desolation, and now nobody could do anything? The phantom sensation of a fist squeezed his throat. Part of him ached to reach his hand out to take hold of Kyoko’s own, feeling the smooth leather of her gloves against the palms of his hands. Would it be appropriate? She did still look pretty mad, but… god, he wanted to feel like everything around him was real for once. Throughout all of this chaos, she was one of a few things that reminded him that things were not as bad as he thought them to be.

Shutting his eyes, he turned away from the scene. A few steps away from the rooftop’s chained fence managed to soothe his nerves within mere seconds. It somehow caught Kyoko’s attention, too.

“I… I can’t watch them anymore.” He answered to the question she didn’t ask. Watching the Reserve Course students scream at shout like that is what they did all day in class and all day after. God, they needed a break from it. Regret stirred within him any time he drew himself back to the simpler days, when he took things like getting boba tea with Sayaka or rough housing with Mondo and Taka for granted. He’d give anything to go home and sit with his mom, and listen to those incredibly annoying women blather through their talk show. He missed the brief period of time in which his dad had begun to teach him how to drive, and the two would squabble over the controls and road safety. He even missed fighting with Komaru over who would get the TV on a Friday night, inducing many groans of frustrations from their parents. When all of these people were suffering, he knew was wrong to want it back, but… How could he not? Makoto’s heart was much too soft to comfortably look on as others suffered.

The clacking of Kyoko’s high-heeled boots against the stone tiles of the roof signalled to him that she, too, had found it easier to turn away. “I can understand that. I don’t fancy watching them either.”

“Kirigiri-san, could we…” To this surprise, his voice sounded like it was breaking. “Could we talk about something else? Something other than… whatever this is?”

The clacking echoed closer as she moved to stand at his side; her hand found a soothing spot on his shoulder. One simple movement, and relief crashed over him in a waterfall. Warmth spread through his chest and for one moment, he felt completely safe. After so many weeks of fear and struggling, he finally remembered the sensation. His grandmother used to say that that was how you knew you loved someone. If you could find comfort in their touch during your darkest times. He definitely had it bad for Kyoko Kirigiri. The lovesickness, as his grandfather might say.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” She spoke in a voice that felt like he was running his hand along a fleece blanket, taking in all of its softness. She tilted her body forward to try and get a good look at his face.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t stop himself from turning to meet her. “Anything, really. Preferably something happy.”

“Happy, hmm?” She tapped her chin, pursing her lips slightly. It was rare that one actually got to see the cogs turning in Kyoko’s mind, but it was always a sight to behold. “Umm… Sweden has a rabbit show all about jumping? I heard about it when my grandfather and I were there on a case when I was a girl. I think it might have been called Kaninhoppning?”

Makoto laughed, shaking his head. “That’s adorable.”

“It really is. Come to think of it, I have many happy memories from that trip… Although I never did get to see Kaninhoppning, I did manage to slip out onto our hotel room balcony for a half an hour to catch the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.”

Having the chance to slip away from her grandfather on those trips was a rare occurrence, that he knew well. Though Makoto had never met Kyoko’s grandfather, he couldn’t say that he felt like he would particularly like the man. The manner in which he treated Kyoko as she grew felt strange to him, in the least. She even confessed to being connected to him more by blood than by love, much to Makoto’s shock.

“What did it look like?”

It became Kyoko’s turn to smile as she turned her head to the sky, extending a gloved hand to point at the atmosphere spread above them. “A lot like this one, I found. A smattering of colours.”

He followed suit, breathing in a calming breath as his eyes found a familiar sky. Puffs of pink and oranges sailed across the surface of blue like mystical ships in a vast ocean; sunlight breaking through like the heavens smiling down on them. Almost like proof that someone was still sitting up there, waiting to give this sign.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?”

She nodded, stepping closer to him and sliding her hand to his other shoulder. Oh god, she put her arm around him?! That made his heartbeat skip. He prayed his face hadn’t turned fire truck red. She would most definitely resort to teasing him if she caught wind of his embarrassment. Apart of him wonder if she could sense it, for only a few seconds later she tilted her head as if to rest on his shoulder. Rather than leave her there by herself, he moved his own to meet it.

“It is rather special, I agree,” she answered him with a smile, “Dare I say it, this is perhaps even more special than the one during my travels.”

God. That skin of his had definitely flushed red by now. It was a battle to avoid stuttering while he spoke, and a fight he lost easily. “R-Really? What m-makes this so special?”

Kyoko shrugged her shoulders; her voice pouring from her mouth like smooth molasses. “I’m here with you.”

Butterflies began to beat around his stomach the moment the words fell from her lips. Ack! Don’t think about her lips, he commanded himself internally. The last thing he needed was thinking about kissing those soft, full lips… a pair so perfectly rose in colour and that probably would feel so sweet against his own… Aah! No kissing, no kissing! She wanted to try and be his friend, and he was worrying about kissing. He should have been worried about thinking what to say. Could she tell that he was thinking about that?

A quick glance at her out of the corner of his eye told him no; Kyoko Kirigiri was not a mind reader. Very adept at reading body language, but she could not telepathically tell that someone was thinking about kissing her. However, he had to admit that she could definitely tell that he was nervous. So much so that she started to apologize.

“Sorry,” she muttered, darting her gaze to the floor, “I hadn’t mean to embarrass you.”

He waved his hands around frantically. “No, no! I’m not embarrassed, you just… caught me off-guard, that’s all. I like hearing you say stuff like that. You’re a lot more sentimental than you let on.”

The detective bit her lip awkwardly, doing her best to act like her face was not slowly growing poppy-red. The sight of her made him have to fight to suppress a few giggles. She has no right to be this cute, he thought with amusement. Even stereotypically cute girls like Sayaka couldn’t rival the sheer adorability of his Kyoko.

“I’ve never really thought about myself like that… Would you consider it a good thing?”

Makoto laughed and nuzzled her shoulder affectionately. “It’s a great thing. In fact, it’s something I like about you.”

“I like that about you too,” she murmured, her voice cracking as she continued, “Your sentimentality, I mean. Not mine, that would be… that would be strange, wouldn’t it?”

Oh, how the tables had turned. Now Kyoko was the one standing there, totally embarrassed. Though it had been him only for a moment earlier, he wondered if it were wrong to relish it. Seeing Kyoko flustered was as rare as Shikoku’s glowing mushroom forests; one could barely help wanting to take in all of the charm.

“It would be, yeah,” he laughed, “I’m glad you like that about me, though. In fact, I’d like to ask you something about it.”

Kyoko nodded ever so slightly, careful not to hurt either of their heads with the movement. “Of course.”

“Kirigiri-san, would you promise me something?”

“As long as it’s not to help you cover up a murder, most certainly.”

He laughed. Ever blunt, as always. “No, nothing like that. I just… I want you to promise me that no matter what happens next, that you and I will always be there to support each other. Could you do that for me?”

Though he expected a moment of hesitation, he was met with none. Only a smile greeted him alongside her words. “I’m surprised that you felt as if you had to ask. I would do that for you in a heart beat.”

Makoto pressed his cheek further into her shoulder. “I never doubted you.”

#naegiri2020 #danganronpa #naegiri #danganronpa 3 #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #makoto x kyoko #naegi x kirigiri #despair arc #kyouko kirigiri #naegi makoto #kirigiri kyoko

34 notes · View notes

merryfortune · 3 years ago

Text

Lunacy

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt: 06 Lust

Ship: Eirika/Valter

Fandom: Fire Emblem Sacred Stones

Word Count: 2,941

Rating: M

Warnings: Chose not to use warnings

AN: Big thank you to @seasaltmemories for being my beta :D

Tags: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Forced Relationships, Obsession, Abuse, Murder, Themes of Rape/Non-con

Every night, without fail, the Goddess of the Moon used to light up the night skies, turning every end of the day into a feat of joy and merriment with just her appearance as she danced through the skies, no chariot of her own, just her and her two glass slippers. The nocturnal hours that she lit were precious and safe, completely and utterly free of the fear of the dark.

It’s not like that anymore. Sometimes she is able to grace the world with the whole of her dance, other times she is shrouded in darkness. Worst of all are the nights when she’s not there at all.

Ever since the Goddess of the Moon was forced to wed the God of the Dark, she had been unable to dance like she had in the more innocent days of yore. The gentle, restful night had been transformed due to their union as with his occurrence within the world had caused a new, dreadful fear to become known to the world. Thus cementing the God of the Dark as having a reputation for being the stealer of one of the two most precious lights that resided within the heavens.

The moon had been taken from her twin, the sun, her elder brother.

Ephraim, the older twin, the literal golden boy, was the emissary of the sun. Commanding a golden chariot pulled by golden horses, he lit up the day with his fierce warmth and light, bringing energy to all lit by it. From the people to the animals to the plants. Each and every day, over the course of several hours, Ephraim and his horses would cause the sun to arc over the world. He would leave a blaze in his wake regardless of which season it was but that is what made him and his chariot, the sun, so admirable.

Meanwhile, at night, Eirika would take to the skies in her brother’s place. She had no chariot, only her two glass slippers but her dance was elegant and illuminating. Her dance would lull children to sleep and her rapier would allow for light to gleam off it, revealing safe paths for weary travellers to follow. Where her brother blazed, she was a dew or a frost. Soft and forgiving, soothing, healing.

Both the sun and the moon had their fair share of followers and devotees.

But Eirika had a devout follower like none other. A man by the name of Valter who had been praying to her since he was a child. It was a childhood interaction between him and the Goddess of the Moon that had caused him to become utterly obsessed with her.

He recalled that fateful night with brilliant clarity, when the Goddess of the Moon had come down from the heavens and presented himself to her in the flesh and nectar.

Beaten. Starved. Abused. Just a sampling of what Valter endured as the bastard child of a noblewoman and a rapist. And like many others, the night was the only reprieve from the scrutiny and assault that he faced from the people around him meant to be his family or carers.

He escaped outside, into the cool and into the fireflies that lingered near the pond at the rear of the orchard. Far, far away from the house with the little, battered cot that he had to call a bed. He looked up into the sky, through the treetops and the stars, and saw her. The most beautiful woman a child could ever conceive of: he saw the moon and his eyes filled upon that visage and with tears, too.

He prayed. He begged. He worshipped in the blinding, holy light of the moon with no temple or ritual. Just his brutal feelings and brutalised body. He laid down his body and soul for this and for that, the Goddess of the Moon stepped down from the heavens and appeared before him.

She caressed this child’s bruised face and cradled him, she ran her fingers through his hair and untangled the knots. Valter wept in her arms and so, Eirika gave him a blessing that he would take to his grave: she kissed his forehead and thus, a seal was placed upon him. The mark of the full moon. So long as he was faithful to her, no harm would befall him all the same as any other beneath Eirika’s moon.

Then, once Eirika felt that she had consoled this child, she disappeared into his arms. A cavalcade of moonlit glitter, silvery and blue, and returned to her eternal dance in the night sky. Every twirl of her body, every kick of her long legs, every flick of her hand, another movement of the moon made as it had its own arc over the Earth.

With the blessing of the Moon Goddess protecting him, his parents never raised a hand against him and he realised something. He was not weak anymore. He was not their prey. And so, empowered by the seal upon his forehead, Valter found his hierophilic purpose in life. Looking up at the indigo skies, he watched, entranced by the moonlight, by the goddess herself. Every night, he watched. He prayed.

Admiration and prayer gave way to obsession in the mind of young Valter as Eirika never visited him again, no matter how he pleaded and begged for her to reappear before him. And so, hopes and wishes, no matter how suffocated with his twisted affection, gave way to actions. He would do whatever it took for Eirika to notice him once more amongst all her mortal followers. Whatever it takes.

Eventually, Eirika did notice Valter once more. He became all consuming to her attention, sickening her to her very core.

He had grown into a man, a man like a wyvern. Tall, bulky, and sneering all the same as that heinous, fanged reptile. His prayers had turned to rallying cries of orchestrated tragedy. Each struck reverberating through the goddess whom he showed his devotion to in frigid cold blood. Until she had to cry out to no one at all as the gods had no higher power they could truly turn to.

He was slaughtering innocents, those whom he deemed as unworthy followers of her and anyone else who had the misfortune of crossing his path like a black cat. Every kill, a prayer and as they were prayers, Eirika felt each and everyone of them, even so far flung as into the skies and heavens. Every plunge of his spear against his so-called offerings was felt by Eirika as deep as the pain could possibly go and further still.

She felt the eviscerations that he put his victims through, the way he disembowled and revelled in the resulting viscera, how he desecrated what little was left. Every wound, every puncture. Though Eirika did not spill with a single drop of blood, she felt it as though it were a waterfall. The phantom penetrations left her on her knees as she could only grit her white teeth through it at all, screaming, sobbing, body and soul violated with his weapon of choice. His lunatic devotion.

To the envy of the gods of war and the like, Valter was single handedly causing a disbalance in nature and the aether. All in adoration of Eirika and for it, Eirika would be the one punished by her fellow gods and goddesses. Not even her brother the sun could protect her as Lyon, the emissary of death, made his way to the moon, a tranquil fury at Eirika’s perceived negligence.

He visited Eirika in the wayside of twilight, before her nightly dance would begin and he found her on her sublime abode, of marble and pure white rock, retching, holding herself as she felt more - dozens - killed in her name. Lyon knelt beside her.

“Hark, my friend,” he told her, stroking her shoulder, an embodiment of light such as Eirika was not meant for such darkness, “but you must have courage and take to even your own follower to cease his atrocities. My domain is overflowing with souls who were not meant to be cut down by death just yet, it is disruptive, please understand, dear.”

“I understand, Lyon, I will find a way to cease this madness.” Eirika said, sucking in a breath to sound braver than she was.

“Excellent.” Lyon agreed and in a smog of shadow and dust, Eirika was left alone.

She gazed out across the sky and she felt so, so small before the might of humankind and even all the universe. She had never felt that way before. She was a goddess, after all. So, she found herself seeking the counsel of someone whom she could always trust: her twin brother.

Time was of the essence but Ephraim appeared on her cross path eventually. She hailed out to him and he halted his horses. They whinnied and whined but with Ephraim’s expert command, they stopped and he dismounted from behind the guard of his chariot.

“Unexpected to see you this soon, sister.” Ephraim greeted her.

“I need a little of your help.” Eirika confessed, fidgeting. “I have never had a follower kill in my name, let alone slaughter. I have been told to end him but I do not believe myself to be up to the task alone.”

Ephraim stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I am informed of the situation and believe it is yours and yours alone, little sister.”

“I have never taken up arms against anyone,” Eirika said, “I am not like you brother. I am not a warrior. I am a lover, not a fighter.”

“Then perhaps you ought to use that to your advantage. Fight with words, rather than weapons.” Ephraim said then sighed. “With that, I must dismiss you. As you cannot prolong the night, neither can I prolong the day.”

“I understand, rest well later, Ephraim.” Eirika told him.

She watched as he and his horses left her. She watched the sparks and embers in his trail, they were beautiful but in the right temperature, could ignite the very crops that he was meant to rear. Eirika wondered if the indulgent blessing she had given away so recklessly a few years ago was the same. Her heart wrenched and sure enough, the killing prayers had begun again and her offerings were in the form of heads cleaved from necks rather than trimmed hollyhocks or similar.

It brought her to her knees with indecision and powerlessness. Eirika, a goddess, was left snivelling and sobbing in the wake of the murder in her name. She hadn’t a faintest clue how gods of war and death endured or if it felt different to them.

Desiring nothing more than to at least end her own suffering, let alone the grief of the loved ones of those who had been killed in her name, Eirika found her courage. She would find her own way to fight against this follower of hers. Eirika took a deep, heaving breath and her gloved fists strengthened. She tried to lift herself up but she was struck once more by the sensation of a piercing lance but she endured the pain as innocents were killed in her name. She vanished from the edge of the world where she had met her brother.

Reappearing in a scourged field, Eirika stood, uncertain and she gazed out past the fallen, slaughtered bodies. This may have been a village once and it was as though war had razed it but she only saw the silhouette of one man and his lance in his hand. The one man who had caused this tragedy and his weapon of choice.

Valter twitched. He could sense a cool change in the dusk. His movements were unnatural as he lumbered around, enthralled, that he appeared to be in the presence of someone more than loyalty. Eirika steeled herself. His gaunt face split into a manic grin. A lust for life, a lust for blood, and worst of all: a lust for her, Eirika sensed from it.

“Eirika, my goddess, you recall me?” he asked as he began to amble forward, tired by his slaughter, using his lance as a cane to hobble with, and yet enthused by Eirika’s reappearance before her.

In front of her, he laid down his weapon, overjoyed that his prayers had finally been heard, it seemed. He took her hand and smothered her knuckles with kisses. Eirika remained akin to marble, just a statue, glaring yet neutral. Valter’s passion disgusted her but what really made Eirika tremble was the realisation that he still bore her blessing upon his forehead. It shone like a beacon, completely unmarred from the passage of time, unmarred by the splatter of blood, completely unlike the rest of his face.

“Yes, I remember you, the child that I assisted.” Eirika replied gravely.

Valter lifted his head and Eirika saw a jaundice to his eyes, they were wide, “I was worried my prayers were eluding you, I am nothing but devoted to you, my goddess, your attention is all that I desire.”

“They have been heard, Valter,” Eirika said, firm, “and they must stop.”

Her proclamation shocked Valter to stone. He blinked. He behaved as though he could not fathom her words.

“This killing in my name must stop.” Eirika continued, her voice getting louder now.

Both of them were distraught but somehow, Valter was more so. He gawked, on the brink of anger. His one-sided love betrayed.

“I will do anything to bring a stop to your murder.” Eirika told him.

“Anything?” Valter echoed and disbelief gave way upon his rugged face to something conniving. It made Eirika’s skin crawl.

“Yes, anything, so long as it is within the boundaries of my domain.” Eirika replied, sheepish, already regretting her words but she hoped that so long as his request was per her own magic, then she would be true to her own word yet she dreaded Valter’s reply.

He took a moment to peruse his words and gather what his anything would be but his teeth glinted, “I have my request.”

“Let’s hear it.” Eirika replied, bravely, keeping her chin up even though she dreaded what was about to come from Valter’s mouth.

“I want power.” Valter said. “Power of the gods.”

“I must deny that, I can give you no such thing.” Eirika replied and she tried to step away from Valter but he grabbed her hand.

Eirika’s heart could have jumped from her chest but instead, it sank. Valter came down to his knee, still holding her hand and Eirika realised what he was asking for her.

“I could share in your power, as your husband.” Valter said. “Have me as your mortal lover…”

“But make you a god.” Eirika finished his sentence for him.

He was perversely delighted, clearly thinking it a good omen of her marriage for her to do that. Eirika swallowed a lump in her chest and her expression remained firm. Brave. She took a breath.

“For a dowry, you will receive power over the dark, the home of the night sky and moon, but for the engagement, you will relinquish your killing. Those are our vows.” Eirika scowled.

“As you wish,” Valter replied, his voice a sick caress, “my love.”

Valter kissed Eirika’s hand once more. Just once. And there was a swell of power. The transfer of part of Eirika’s domain into another. She kept herself strong through it as she felt part of her power diminish and was eaten up by Valter.

“You are now Valter, God of the Dark.” Eirika christened him and she could feel a shift in the balance of nature and aether but she didn’t think she was going to be scolded for it.

This shift recontextualised itself and Eirika could feel the new presence of the dark. Not as a time of rest and solace, but as something that could have horrible dangers lurking in. An old fear, from before her time and birth as a goddess, revived and revitalised because of the birth of the new god before her, at her feet.

“Come, Valter, we must make haste. The night must begin, it must go on.” Eirika told him, hurried him.

Valter slowly got up and smiled eerily, “With pleasure.” he replied.

Though she wanted to be let go, Eirika instead took Valter’s hand. To turn the moon, to blanket the world in darkness and sleep, soothed by the gentle light of the moon… unfortunately he now had a place in this as a newlywed dance, no matter how unnerving.

Valter was sharply keen to assist. His hand was large against Eirika’s and despite being defined by her dualism with her brother, she had never danced with a partner before. His hands were stony and so were his movements, he was a warrior, not a dancer, Eirika quickly realised.

He trod on her toes, cracking the glass slippers her feet were adorned with but he was an eager partner, if anything else. Eager but inadequate, he took charge. They danced but it was not the dance that Eirika, or the world, had once known so effortlessly, so innately. As such, the moon was partially enshrouded in a shadow that had never been there before.

Thus, for the first time in all the history so far of creation, earthly and heavenly, the moon began to wane. A shade of darkness, her possessive husband, hid the moon’s face as she tried to dance as usual, beginning a new lunar cycle the world had not seen before but would come to know ever after.

#100ships challenge #writing tag #eirival #otp: both sides of the moon #fire emblem sacred stones #fire emblem #sacred stones #eirika x valter #valter x eirika #valter fire emblem #eirika fire emblem #gore cw #rape cw

5 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 5 years ago

Text

Obstacles

Based on a prompt by @kinglazrus! A Phic Phight Phic! (Yes, I know I already did this prompt. I had two ideas.)

Before Danny even opened his eyes, he knew he was about to have a bad day. This was primarily because he wasn't in his nice, comfortable bed, which was where he last remembered being. No. Right now he was propped up against a cold, hard wall.

He was also gagged, with something extensive that went all the way into his nose and throat and rested uncomfortably against his vocal cords. Not that it was resting comfortably against any other part of his face or mouth. His jaw had been forced all the way open and everything aches.

This lead to a number of conclusions: One, he had, yet again, been kidnapped, and, two, his current kidnappers are probably aware of his ghost powers. Otherwise, they wouldn't see the need for such an elaborate gag.

Danny believed he was also tied up or chained, but, due to sensory fatigue and his general disinclination to open his eyes or otherwise move, he hadn't checked yet.

He really hated being kidnapped. He was also sleep deprived. His kidnappers could wait.

(Or were those the drugs talking? He had to assume he was drugged, to get him here.)

"Hey!" hissed a sharp, male voice. "Hey, kid!"

Apparently, his kidnappers didn't agree. Ugh. On top of everything, he had to get rude kidnappers. Couldn't he get polite kidnappers for once? The kind that would treat him like an honored guest, except for letting him leave? Or who at least would let him have a bed? He'd still hate it, of course, but he'd be more comfortable while plotting his escape.

"Kid!" said the voice, more urgently.

Jeez. Couldn't they wait? Danny wasn't going anywhere. That they knew about, anyway. Since, obviously, he wasn't going to stay here. For long. Hopefully.

Something jangled and the voice grunted. Internally, Danny rolled his eyes. What were they even doing? Worst kidnapping ever. Zero out of five stars. Would not repeat.

Must be a new kidnapper, then. Didn't know the ropes. He giggled internally. It was better when kidnappers didn't know the ropes. That meant they were easier to untie.

Actually, wait. That jangle... That sounded disturbingly like someone else in chains.

Great. So he had a kidnapping buddy. A kidnapee buddy? Whatever. A fellow victim. Yay. Joy. Someone Danny would have to rescue without revealing his secret. At least, the voice sounded human.

The guy had probably never been kidnapped before. Most humans hadn't been. Danny didn't know about ghosts. Ghosts got up to some weird stuff in ghost land.

Ghost land. Wow. These guys had really laid on the drugs, huh?

If he were alone, Danny would would have pretended to sleep until the drugs completely wore off and he could think clearly and move properly. But he wasn't alone. He needed to know what and who he was working with.

He forced his eyes open, despite how heavy and sticky they felt. What he could see, that is, nothing, didn't change. He blinked, several times, then shook his head. This revealed that, in addition to the gag, he had been blindfolded. Also, he had been right about being chained up. There was a collar around his neck. He reached up, but the chains shackled to his wrists weren't long enough for him to reach.

Well, Danny officially hated this.

"Hey, hey, kid, don't panic, don't panic. Breathe in, breathe out, okay?"

Danny rolled his eyes. He wasn't panicking.

"If you can understand me, uh, nod, or something."

Not the best way of communicating, but, whatever. He didn't have a lot of options. He nodded.

"Good, good. So, uh, you're probably wondering what's going on."

Danny nodded, and tried to point at his face.

"Well, they've got sort of a mask over your whole face, kind of like that one movie, you know, with the French king? Except yours has a hole where your mouth is, and I guess you can feel that, because it looks like it's going in to your mouth. Yeah. And no eye holes. And from my side of the room, it looks like it's locked on, from behind."

The man stopped. If Danny had use of his vocal cords, he would have groaned. While he had wanted to know what was on his face, that wasn't all he wanted to know, and, honestly, that should have been immediately obvious.

This guy wasn't very good at being kidnapped.

Danny rotated his hand in a gesture he hoped would be interpreted as 'continue.' His wrist chafed on the inside of the cuff.

"Anyway, the people who have us... They aren't people. Are you from Amity Park?"

Danny nodded. He already knew where this was going.

"Thank god. I was worried you'd think I was crazy. We've been kidnapped by ghosts. Don't worry, though! I'm a GIW agent! We're trained to fight ghosts!"

The guy, the actual Guy, the agent, kept going on about how he'd rescue them, or how the GIW would come and get them and fight off all the evil, kidnapping ghosts, but Danny was too busy trying to keep his heart rate under control to pay attention.

Danny could handle being kidnapped. He had done it before. But escaping with a GIW agent? Without blowing his secret? That was a different story, and he suspected it was one his kidnappers were fully aware of.

His jaw clenched painfully hard around the gag, but he couldn't relax his muscles. He was aware that he was shaking.

A single, presumably tied up, GIW could scare him this much when the prospect of being kidnapped by unknown ghosts hadn't fazed him at all. It was hilariously pathetic.

The GIW agent, judging by his continued reassurances as to the prowess of the GIW, hadn't noticed Danny's panic. Good. Great. Perfect. At least he was oblivious.

Danny felt the ghost coming, icy mist clouding his lungs, long before the agent saw anything. It was obvious when the agent did see something, because he stopped talking in the middle of a sentence about how 'the GIW are looking for us even now!'

Reassuring. Not.

Something creaked, high-pitched enough for him to hunch his shoulders around his sensitive ears. A door opening? A swirl of air seemed to confirm that.

He hated this so much. He didn't even have his go-to coping mechanism: sarcasm. Well, he had internal sarcasm, but that just wasn't the same.

It would also be a lot easier to figure out how to escape if he could see.

The ghost wasn't walking, didn't make any sound or move the air, but Danny could still track their silent presence moving around the room. Just a perk of being him. Well, that and his ghost sense.

The ghost began speaking, but not in English. "Do not be so afraid, little one," she said in a ghostly language that had always reminded Danny of spiders. Ghostly claws skimmed the soft skin beneath his chin, and he tilted his head up, reflexively, away from the touch. "I swear on my own grave and the Black River, we will do you no damage we cannot repair."

Reassuring. Not. Wow. This ghost and the GIW agent were much more similar than one might think on first... listen? Not sight. Well, probably sight, too, unless this ghost was a Walker lookalike, but Danny couldn't exactly confirm that right now.

"You may have deduced by now that the fool is here to prevent you from fighting your way free. We know you are clever." The claws poked him again, and he leaned away farther, pressing the top of his head into the wall.

"Hey!" said the agent. "Leave the kid alone! Pick on someone your own size!"

The ghost ignored him. "While we have no quarrel with you, we require your presence. At the end, we shall return you to your home, and, should you desire it, we shall return the fool as well." She was pushing against Danny's chin with the back of her claws, pushing his head as far back as it could go. The collar pushed sharply against the nape of his neck. He squirmed. "This, we promise."

Then she dumped something down his throat. At least, he really hoped it was something she 'dumped' as in, from a bottle, rather than, say, for example, drool, but Danny couldn't exactly tell, either way. All he knew was that something liquid had hit the back of his throat, and now he was choking and sputtering, trying not to inhale it. He didn't have much choice about swallowing it.

His throat and the back of his nose burned. He wheezed, gasping for breath that, strictly speaking, he didn't need, and tipped sideways. He caught on the collar's chain and nearly strangled himself, but the ghost had mercy and pulled him back upright.

"Cooperate," said the ghost, "this will all be over soon."

There was a tug on his collar from the other direction and a clank. Was there a chain on the front of the collar? He tried, weakly, to twitch away. The chain went taught.

This was not ideal.

"It's okay, it's okay, kid," said the agent. "The ghost- it's just chaining us together, that's all. I think."

Abruptly, the chains attaching Danny to the wall vanished. The chain on the front of the collar tugged him forward, and he almost toppled. Not 'just chaining them together,' then. Why did he have to be stuck with this guy? Why not someone actually useful? Like Mr. Lancer? Or Tucker's mom? Heck, he'd take Dash. At least Dash would have his back if he found out Danny was Phantom.

The chain tugged up, and Danny struggled to his feet which were, predictably, asleep. His knees felt weird. He was tugged forward, slowly, but insistently. It took a few seconds for Danny to register what was happening.

The ghost was using the chain as a leash, leading him, and presumably the agent, out of the room. His shoulder hit something warm and alive, and he almost fell, but a pair of human hands steadied him.

"Sorry, kid," muttered the agent. "I don't know what's going on. The ghost came in and talked in that gibberish before, but this is the first time I've been out since I woke up."

Danny focused on not falling, after that. He didn't want the agent to touch him again.

This was humiliating.

(Also, what had the ghost put down his throat? He'd been thinking 'drug,' but he didn't feel any different. Yet.)

The air grew warmer as they walked down hallways and navigated up stairs. Hisses and whispers of ghostly speech caught on Danny's ears, but the snippets he caught weren't enough to explain anything to him. The few he could interpret were about housekeeping and cleaning.

Then they passed through a doorway into a room where the air was hot, wet, and floral. A greenhouse? A solarium? A garden? A jungle? It didn't smell as earthy as Sam's greenhouse, the odor was... sharper, more chemical, but Danny knew Sam liked to keep her plants as natural as possible. It might not mean anything.

Beneath his feet, though, the floor was tile, smooth and glazed. That didn't strike him as something that would be used in a greenhouse, or even a garden. Definitely not a jungle. Although... ghosts were weird. They often blended natural and unnatural in ways humans wouldn't.

"You know what you must do," said the ghost.

"Yes, mistress," answered a chorus of ghostly voice, both male and female.

He was pulled forward one last time and suddenly there were hands on him. Many hands, tugging at his clothes.

"Hey!" said the agent. "What is this? What are you doing? I'm not going in there! I'm perfectly- I'm perfectly clean! No bath! Back off!"

There was a great tug on Danny's neck and he went sprawling. The ghosts hissed.

"Oh, hell, kid, I'm sorry, I- stop touching me!"

Danny reached up and grabbed a section of chain, giving himself a little slack. The ghosts converged on him again, and he froze, tensing for signs that he was about to get beaten up.

Instead, they started to cut away his clothes, which was bad in a completely different and terrifying way. The agent loudly protested similar treatment.

"For your bath," said one of the ghosts.

Oh, that made it so much better. Except it didn't. What the heck did these ghosts want him for that required a bath?

The bath was- Well, it was a bath. A bath where he couldn't see or close his mouth or nose. A bath where he had to let a bunch of people who had kidnapped him touch him. A bath where he was increasingly affected by whatever drug he had been given. He could feel parts of his mind going soft and docile, feel his ghost-child instinct to submit to adult ghosts unexpectedly kick into gear.

Worse, the bath attendants apparently thought he was funny, or cute, or something. They kept giggling. Danny wanted nothing to do with it.

Except... the drug apparently had yet to reach its full effect, and, gradually, Danny found that he did. He wanted them to be happy. He wanted them to like him.

At least, parts of him did. The rest was furious.

Eventually, he was toweled off and brought back to the GIW agent, whom he had all but forgotten.

"Damn, kid, whatever drug they gave you really did a number on you, huh?" he asked.

Danny couldn't exactly respond. They were led away, back inside the building, where it was dry, and they were dressed. At least, Danny was dressed, and in something that felt thin and gauzy. Then they were moved yet again.

At some point, Danny wasn't sure when, what with the gag and blindfold, the first ghost came back. Danny was starting to have trouble understanding words They all felt like they were underwater, and he was becoming very unsteady on his feet, even without being pulled along.

The ghost, the first ghost, was touching him, tracing over his bones, mumbling things. He tried to hold still. He really did.

Something new was dumped down his throat, and his legs abruptly decided that they weren't going to support his weight anymore. He dropped to the floor, taking the agent with him.

"Follow the lights," said the ghost. "Find the sun. There is a key in the crawlspace."

Then she left. She left him alone.

Alone with the agent. Which was bad bad bad bad bad.

The agent came closer, and Danny hissed, but he couldn't exactly fight back in his current state. Soon, the agent had him pinned, and he was doing something to the gag and blindfold, and it hurt every time the piece in his throat moved.

But then- it was gone. The agent had, somehow, managed to remove it. The blindfold followed shortly after. Danny spent several long seconds just breathing and blinking, adjusting to his newfound freedom and returned senses.

Being able to see grounded him in reality somewhat. He sat up, only vaguely listening to the agent. The room they were in was cavernous and dark, lit only by a dim chain of lights on the ground that incongruously reminded him of the floor lights at a movie theater. They lead into a tunnel at the far end of the room and out of sight.

Well, now he knew where he was. He groaned.

"Kid? Are you alright?"

"No," said Danny, hoarsely. He decided not to ask the agent's name, because then the agent would ask for his. He looked the agent up and down. "They gave you a knife?"

"Yeah," said the agent, frowning at the sleek metal thing.

The reflections made Danny's eyes hurt. This was a bad trip. He never wanted to take drugs, especially these drugs, ever again.

"You should get rid of it," said Danny, recalling some of the 'rules' this particular ghostly ritual had.

"It's our only weapon."

"Do you really trust something a ghost gave you?" Danny said, trying to inject disgust into his tone. It worked too well and almost gagged. "It's probably cursed. Why else would they give it to you?"

The agent, as expected, tossed the knife away like it had suddenly turned into a snake.

Danny swallowed hard, fighting back a wave of dizziness. He could feel his ghost half sparkling under his skin, and the impulse to do what the nice lady from before said beating with his heart. The darkness crawled with herringbone patterns, pointing on.

"Okay," said the agent. "Okay. So, we've got to get out of here, and I don't fancy taking the path they've lit up for us, so let's feel around, see if there's anything off to the sides." He stood up, dragging Danny with him.

"We've gotta follow the lights," said Danny. He swayed. "They're-" he coughed. "My parents research ghost legends, and I think I know what this is."

"Right, you're the Fenton kid, aren't you?"

Danny shrugged. Figures the guy would know.

"Well, what is it?"

"They want us to find the sun." Danny blinked hard as a memory of light blinded him. "A sun. Their sun. They want us, probably me, really, to find their sun. Because it's their new year. It goes to sleep. Beddy-bye." He yawned.

"Stay awake," said the agent.

Danny shook himself. "They want us to wake it up."

"And the bath is because...?"

"Ritual puri-purification," said Danny, stumbling over the word. "The drugs, too, I guess. We need to be clean, or we'll be burnt up and they'll send someone else." He rubbed his eyes. Speaking of ritual purity, would his status as a half ghost keep him from actually attaining that?

It didn't matter. The drugs in his system were driving him on. His bones were practically vibrating with them. He had to go. He had to follow the lights.

He stumbled forward and tugged on the chain. The agent obviously didn't want to come, but just as obviously there weren't all that many choices. He followed.

It was hard to follow the little lights. They hovered, intangible, just above the ground and made all of the shadows weird. Danny wished he could summon an ectolight, but his fingernails hurt and the agent was right behind him. Stalking him. Waiting for him to trip up.

They reached a wall studded with lights. "We have to go over," said Danny, craning back his head.

The agent grunted unhappily. "I'll boost you up, but don't go over the side or we'll both be strangled."

"Uhuh," said Danny. He didn't need to breathe.

It might have tempted him, at the top of the wall, to go over and get rid of the agent. He wasn't sure. It could have just been the drugs talking. It could have been the call of the void. He didn't know, and he felt so guilty that the weight of it bore him into a hunch and turned the agent's words into gibberish.

There were other obstacles, beyond the agent, beyond the wall. There was a glowing river full of skeletal fish. A field of mushrooms with purple-glowing gills. A monster that chased them until they passed through a door to small for it.

The lights led to a tiny hole, barely large enough for Danny to crawl through. A green-yellow light flickered in the depths.

The agent started to curse. "I can't fit in there," he finish, finally.

"I can," said Danny. "That's why they want children, I guess."

"This chain isn't long enough."

"There's a key in the tunnel," said Danny.

"How do you know?" the agent sounded suspicious.

"The ghost lady whispered it to me," said Danny. He didn't really want to see her again. He was fairly certain that the drug was still running strong in his system, and that he would be ludicrously pliant with whatever an adult ghost, any adult ghost, told him to do at the moment.

He didn't want to see their sun, either. They were probably a ghost in their own right. A powerful one.

But he did want that key.

"No," said the agent, shaking his head. "There has to be another way. This is a trap. Like the knife." He started backing away.

Danny dove for the tunnel.

He got about a quarter of the way down when the agent found the presence of mind to haul him back with the chain. Danny grabbed it with both hands and braced himself against the walls of the tunnel. He could see the glimmer of a key, less than an arm's reach away.

He pulled, reaching, trying to get it. Despite his best efforts, the collar dug painfully into his neck. The agent was shouting but he was under water again. Danny didn't care. He wanted that key.

He got it.

Finding the key hole was a whole other ordeal, but he got that, too, and then he was free. He shot down the tunnel, into-

Sunlight.

He froze. There was a giant, burning skeleton in the cave in front of him. Its bones were an incandescent white. It had curled into a ball. Sleeping.

This was the sun.

Danny could leave, now, though. He could phase through the floor, now that the collar was gone. He could go home and forget about the agent. Physically speaking.

Mentally? That was another story.

Besides, he was in the drugs grip again, and didn't he want to talk to the nice adult?

He shuffled closer to the sun skeleton. It felt hot, but not unbearably so. As he drew closer, he had to squeeze his eyes shut against the light. He reached out, and put his hand on one of the skeleton's bones.

The sun woke instantly.

The celebratory feast was one of the most bizarre events Danny had ever attended, and not just because he was high on ghost drugs. An unconscious GIW agent chained in the corner and a living 'sun' as the guest of honor had that effect, he supposed. Not to mention everyone's insistence on feeding him by hand.

At least he would be able to go home after this.

He hoped.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020

174 notes · View notes

saintheartwing · 3 years ago

Text

Breaking Dawn, Part Four: HOLD ON HOPE

The entities of emotion were, to many a race, creation deities. They had beget many a species, including the Irken race, a race born from a union of Intelligence and Will.

And now the species born from Hope was poised to end the Irken race. High above the planet Irk, aiding the Resisty ships as countless others formed a blockade to cut off Irk from the rest of the galaxy, it appeared as though all of Irk's hopes laid in the Wing, the host to Hope, herself an Irken...

"Please." She insisted, clasping her hands together, getting on bent knee before the Meekrob race as the "lighties" hovered before her. The rest of the Resisty stood behind her, Lard Nar frowning slightly. He had had reservations originally about having her join his crew, but she'd proven invaluable, gentle, and above all, considerate. She had owed the Resisty a debt after they'd saved her life...and she'd repaid it time and time again. Now she asked for clemency...

"Can't we give them half a year?" Lard Nar finally asked. "...I don't like the idea of giving the Irkens much time, but just a few months to surrender?" He went on, waving his hands in the air. "It's only fair."

"Would THEY give YOUR race the same mercy?" The leader of the Meekrob growled in its ethereal voice. Sarong was not a kindly being by nature. "DID they give your race half a year to submit before they pitilessly invaded, foul little BUGS that they are?"

"...aren't we supposed to be better than the bugs?" A third voice spoke up, as they turned to see two people stepping off a teleportal pad, dusting themselves off. "The Massive's been moved. Sold. Fresh off the market and on it's way to a very, VERY happy customer."

"Well, THAT would put a smile on my face had I a face!" Sarong laughed. "...alright. I'll give the Irkens a MONTH to surrender to our blockade, to come over to our way of thinking. Get the message out." The phantom-esque glowing being demanded, turning his head to his people as they moved along with the Resisty to the communications relay. "I sincerely HOPE...for your people's sake...they do the smart thing and give in." Sarong told the Wing.

"I have faith that they will make the right choice in the end." The Wing said as she stood up, nodding firmly, moving majestically back to her quarters as she laid down on her bed, noticing her room's communication was going off. She picked up the phone, listening intently. "Yes?"

"...milady, it's me."

The Wing's eyes went wide as the Entity of Hope shimmered overhead. "Turn up the volume, quick." It asked.

"What's happening?"

"The worst, that's what. My friends tapped into your powers with the Exemplar rings. I NEED access to Hope. I need a way to break a hold that Two has over Earth's Avatar of Will, Dilbert Membrane. Otherwise he won't have a fighting chance and...and kids are gonna die."

"I'll be happy to assist, but what of the Entity of Will? Have you contacted it?"

"I don't know where it IS, only you, Compassion and Love are on my speed dial...I don't suppose any others have appeared that could be of help?"

"...the Entity of Corrupted Passion, Rage. He's appeared, but he...he won't help. Not yet. We need to have faith in Sude, who is still bonding with his own host."

"They need to hurry. YOU need to hurry."

"I'll do what I can. I must ask though...you'll need a deputy to assist you. Dib is the Pillar of Will on Earth, is he not?"

"And Gaz is Rage, yes. And you wanna know if there's one for Hope on the Base Planet? Yes. And you know him."

"Who?"

"Skoodge."

The Wing chuckled. "Oh, Skoodge, that dear little soldier. Such a cheery soul. Always looking forward, always devoted. Yes...yes, I don't think we need to worry, Frequency..."

The Wing and Entity of Hope, Psyche, smiled.

"ALL WILL BE WELL.”

Dib paced around in front of his classroom, sighing as he held his hands behind his back, chewing his lip. The Principal had announced that everyone was to leave the school building in an orderly fashion, one class at a time due to a bomb scare.

Naturally, everyone thought Dib or his sister had something to do with it. Mostly because Zim and his weird "cousin", Skoodge, wasn't in class to be pointed and hissed at. M"Alright. I am about to tell you the explanation but if I know you all...and I DO..."

He rolled his eyes at this. "You're all so ignorant you won't believe it. So here goes. A psychotic alien forced a magical kind of ring on me and my sister. He turned us into Manchurian agents that would have decimated the school around lunchtime due to a trigger he put in us. I'm still not entirely sure why. But you aren't buying ANY of that, are you?"

All of the class looked at each other, blinked, and most of them broke out into laughter. Gretchen just sighed, leaning back in her chair, head hung low as Dib sighed and pinched the space between his eyes, chewing on his lip again. "...all right, fine. Nevermind. Moot point, anyhow." God they're all IDIOTS! I'm surrounded by ID! I! OTS!

"Moot point indeed." A voice, filled with snarling rage, a faint laugh lingering in the air called out.

KRUCHA-THROOOOOM! The wall was practically shattered as Two barreled through it, encased in a red energy aura, slamming Dib through the wall on the other side, windows and wall shattering. Soon the class, in fact, the whole school was watching as Dib was sent sprawling across the football field of the High Skool, Two standing tall, fists clenched as red energy rippled from his body.

"Ah, RAGE." Two laughed. "The "Passion" turned dark just like "Diligence" became "Avarice"! A step up, in my humble opinion. See, unlike Miyu, who's off to visit my daddy dearest here in town, I don't "want it all". Nah. I think smaller. I'll just settle for my existence restored to stability as your world is transformed into MINE."

He leapt through the air, fist flying, but Dib managed to roll out of the way, Two growling angrily. "Forgot, I gave you until after lunch to have most of your will back...and I DO suppose stripping any chance you have of fighting back against me would be cheating." Two mused as Dib leaped to his feet, pointing his ring at Two.

"GO!" He yelled out.

Tiny little sparks jutted out, wisps of green slipping to the ground...but nothing. Nothing happened.

"Then again..." Two laughed, his knee going squarely into Dib's gut, knocking Dib to the football field's grass below as he cracked his neck before delivering ANOTHER kick to Dib's side, "I also have kept you from using your ring. So it's hardly a fair fight. I LIKE these odds."

THWUH-THWUCK! Dib was rolled over onto his side as Two knelt down, grabbing his throat. "I...am going to beat you so...so...badly. I'll make this last. And then, after I've stopped by this lovely Chinese restaurant in town for some noodles..." The alien leered, his golden eyes glittering like a dark fire. "I'm going to come back, have you and your sister burn this whole place down with everyone in it, and make sure you're conscious through it all. See, I WAS going to strip your consciousness from your body after this, but frankly...I think me leaving you helpless, trapped inside your own body has a certain poetic CRUELTY to it, wouldn't you say?"

He sniggered darkly, throttling Dib with his clawed hands. "Ooh, I LOVE me when I'm NASTY."

KRA-THROOMP! Two was knocked clean through the air as Gaz lowered the bench she'd carried from the end of the football field, folding her arms down at Dib. "Get up, you idiot. If ANYBODY'S gonna kick your ass, it's me and me alone."

"Thanks, Gaz!" Dib said, laughing with relief as he stood up and made to hug his dear sister, arms stretching wide. I-"

"If you get REMOTELY sentimental I'm feeding you your own nose." Gaz said swiftly, Dib shutting up and turning to face Two as he stood up, nursing a bleeding head as he frowned at them.

"Gaz...almost forgot about you. You know..." He rubbed his chin. "...you look so much like my great aunt, at least, from what the old photo albums showed of her. How'd she die again? Lab accident?"

Gaz turned pale at this. Not with fear, though. This was pure, undiluted grief running through her as Two dusted himself off.

How does he know about Mom? Dib thought.

It had been an ordinary day. Well...as ordinary as life with Prof. Membrane GETS. Peggy Membrane was listening to him speak about his latest invention in his laboratory as Dib, age 7, and Gaz, age 5, stood nearby in the Professor's considerably larger-on-the-inside-than-it-was-the-outside garage laboratory was lighted up.

"How uh...how does...this...um..." Dib asked again as Prof. Membrane strode by him, a strange, bulbous helmet atop his head as he fiddled around with a screwdriver and a control pad in his long, black-gloved hands. He was wearing his large labcoat...he ALWAYS wore his labcoat in the lab, but never in the house, thank God. Peggy always said it smelled too much like plastic.

"Compression technology." The professor laughed. "Shrinking something very, very, VERY big and compacting it into a pocket dimension, I'M A

GENIUS!" He hovered in the air, lightning splitting the air around him as Peggy quickly snatched Gaz away from an accidental bolt that almost singed her hair. "Sorry, I've GOT to be more careful about where I gloat, my dear." Matthew Membrane told "Pegster", taking the helmet off and motioning for his family to come by a table with several vats nearby labeled "DANGEROUS: EXPLODING CHEMICAL COMPOUNDS! DO! NOT! OPEN! SUPER-SERIOUSLY!" written over them.

"What's that?" Peggy inquired, pointing at his latest invention, what appeared to be some kind of mechanical clip for the hair. "You told me your invention was SMALL and unassuming but...you DO know somebody's already invented these Bluetooth things, right?" Peggy laughed.

"My dear, it's a device that lets me speak any language! Even to animals!" Prof. Membrane laughed, pulling on a lever nearby as several cages filled with animals popped up from beneath the floor, all of them looking at the family.

"Ooh, big kitty!" Gaz said, pointing at the tiger as Dib looked at a snake. It began to hiss, it's eyes almost...glowing?

Prof. Membrane quickly led Dib away from the cage, the snake cursing under its breath as Membrane held the strange, segmented clip up, giving it to Peggy. "Put it in your hair. It will transmit signals to your brain, to the part centering around language recognition. All barriers are broken down INSTANTLY! The aftereffects have been odd...something of a shared link...I talked with that bunny yesterday and after that I kept thumping my foot against the ground for half an hour."

Peggy put the clip in her hair and stared at said bunny as it chuckled. "Ooh, have I got a carrot for YOU!" It said, giggling immaturely.

"OH!" Peggy clasped the sides of her face with her hands, gasping. "You little!" She waved her finger at it and took the clip off. "Maybe I should go find a nice CAT or something to talk to." She told her husband. "Here you go, Matt."

She tossed it back to him and he stepped back to catch it...

And he went knocking into a plank that had a small vat of "Exploding Chemical Compounds" placed on the other end. Like a catapult, the small vat was launched through the air at a stunned Peggy as Dib looked up in horror, eyes widening, Gaz's mouth beginning to open in a gasp as Matthew Membrane watched most of his wife become a sloughed pile of flesh...

He never took off the lab coat after that...there was always a tiny bit of Peggy still lingering on the edges of his collar...

A tiny bit of Peggy lingering in his heart.

In ALL of their hearts...

"Do you know what rage TRULY is? The most powerful kind of hatred ISN'T born from ignorance or prejudice or from a perceived threat. Oh no." The alien waved a claw in the air. "Those are Fear in disguise. The real fire that fuels the burning hatred of rage...is personal loss. That's why I wear the red."

Two held his fist up as Gaz and Dib readied themselves, Gaz shaking angrily. "You lost your mother, you must have felt so unhappy, so ANGRY. You didn't understand. Why, why did it have to happen? And I think you blamed your father...and a tiny bit of you blamed your brother, because neither one of them were strong enough to help."

Gaz opened her mouth to say something, but then closed her eyes and clenched her fists, holding them tightly to her sides. "...that's...it wasn't MY fault...somebody had to...somebody had to take the blame. I LOVED...her." She whispered out. "...I LOVED her so...so much..."

"...my own mother is slowly dying. WILL die if my world isn't returned." Two told them softly.

"Then you know how I felt. Then you know that if I had the power...I would have done anything, ANYTHING to get her back." Gaz asked in her dark, accusing tone. "I have that power now...you FORCED it on me, but with you dead and gone, and me with this power..."

She held up her ring, grinning coldly. "I WILL find a way. I'm smart, and I'm tough...and there's not a kid in the world who wouldn't burn it all down if it meant getting back his mommy."

"Oh, Gaz..." Two whispered softly, almost sadly. "You couldn't have described me any better."

And with that, he launched himself at them, claws held high.

...

... "So..." Nick inquired, his county-boy accent thick and homely as he sat down on the pink, fluffy couch with the squat Irken Invader Skoodge at Zim's house, Zim having gone off to the Radioshack to pick up "supplies" as GIR did his own "private thing" in the laboratory. "If Mr. Billingsly is the sleaziest, number one backstabbing lover in all the town, why's he defending this gal off the street? Reckon it don't make no sense." He asked Skoodge, who was, before you ask, NOT in any disguise.

Oh no, Invader Skoodge, short, fat and cuddly Invader Skoodge, was "au naturale", ladies and gents...well, except for the clothes he was wearing, his usual maroon Invader's attire with that mysterious splotch lingering on his stomach.

"It's because before he got amnesia, William Billingsly was the sleaziest number-one LAWYER in Dawson County!" Skoodge explained, waving a gloved hand in the air as Nick passed the chocolate-covered popcorn GIR had made over to him, Skoodge tossing a handful into his mouth.

He liked having the human over. It got so boring, just being stuck in Zim's basement. This way he could talk about human soap operas like "Kissy-Kissy-Boo-Boo" AND wrestling programs like "Skull Squisher" all he wanted and with somebody who wasn't too "busy" or "stupid" to care about either one. Plus, in the event he ever said too much about Irken culture, he'd just erase Nick's memories with a little mini-squid Zim had developed to be attached to people's heads.

...again.

Yeah, he'd tested out a LOT of things on Nick and-oh. Skoodge grimly frowned as Nick took off his cap, scratching at the...

He couldn't bear to look at it. Skoodge looked away, almost puking up the popcorn he'd gobbled down as Nick decided to use the bathroom, promising to come back with soda from the kitchen as Skoodge sighed, turning his head slowly back to the television. Nice kid, that Nick. Stupid, yeah, but nice. Even before what Zim had done to him.

...that had been...

Skoodge was a trained and experienced invader. He did not ever take his job personally, and he understood that Dib had his own duty to save the planet just as he had a duty to help Zim take it over. It was, on an intellectual level, sad. In another time and place, he might have been capable of being friends with the humans. It was somewhat sad he never could be. There was a lot about this world he liked. And he was beginning to fall into an enjoyable rhythm, just staying here on Earth, hanging out.

Maybe...one day...maybe this would feel like his real home. Maybe one day he'd fine that thing he needed to make him want to stay forever. Maybe one day he WOULD be friends, and there wouldn't be a need for this back-and-forth, and they could just...BE. He was fine with waiting. He was good at that...the waiting and the hoping.

Heck, truth be told, even ZIM was beginning to fall into a steady pattern. A new plan every week instead of every day, and there was a faint camaraderie between he and the Dib-human. Sometimes, Skoodge, he could swear Zim LIKED being continuously beaten. LIKED being stuck here, constantly plotting.

Heck, GIR liked Earth plenty, Skoodge thought to himself as he snuck over to the linen closet and pulled it open, a monitor revealing what was occurring in the laboratory downstairs. GIR was dancing around, a disco ball hanging overhead as lights sprayed around, the little robot posing and singing as he strutted his stuff.

Can't read my, can't read my, No he can't read my Poker Face!

"She aint' got to love nobody!" GIR sang out, waving his butt in the air before he whipped around, holding his arms behind his head and shaking his groove thing.

Can't read my, can't read my, No he can't read my Poker Face!

Yep, nothing changed around here, Skoodge thought to himself as he closed the door, returning to the couch and turning back to the television. The state of normalcy: sitting and waiting for something to happen, and usually, it did. In the end. Things tended to work out in the end, Skoodge thought to himself as he popped some more chocolate popcorn in his mouth. He just had to keep where he was. Stay happy. Keep believing...

He stiffened suddenly, as a voice called out to him, a faint accent lingering in it as he slowly turned his head, looking upon a blue-furred being that had stepped into the living room. It wore a blue cap with a strange white symbol on it's head, and blue shorts to match with a special ring in one hand...a ring with a blue symbol upon it that was being offered to him. To HIM.

"Skoodge of Irk." Frequency said cheerily. "Stoic ol' Skoodge. You have the ability to feel great hope."

He put the ring in Skoodge's hand and Skoodge slowly slipped it on, eyes widening. It felt so natural...like he'd been missing a limb all his life, forced to wear a prosthetic but now gaining back his old hand...

Meanwhile, a maroon-eyed, green-skinned being, Invader Zim himself, was walking back from Radio Shack to his house, his arms filled with sacks full to the brim of technical material he needed for his latest plan.

"Brilliant, BRILLIANT! I'll transform pigs into half-human slaves, rounding up humans and overriding their genetic code with my own glorious Irken DNA!" Zim laughed to himself. "Irken and human fused together and at my command, I'll build a new Irken Empire right here on Planet Earth!"

He blinked suddenly, frowning as he put down his bags and scratched his head. "Wait. I'm TALKING TO MYSELF...vrik na tishanti!" He cursed. "I'm becoming too much like the Dib-Stink." He sighed and reached into his maroon outfit, pulling out a small notepad from within. "And have I already done something like this lately? Better check the list."

He took out a pen that popped up from his PAK, flipping through the notebook. "Hmm. Fiddle with gravity in school...launching chickens into outer space...replacing organs with STUFF...launching COWS into outer space...launching GHOST INSPECTORS into outer space...oh. "Turn dogs into dog-people". Ah, DOGS, not pigs. Yep, this'll work!"

"Observation: You always had a knack for such ideas. Insanely brilliant...they called you mad." A metallic, yet distinctly feminine voice rang out, making Zim whip his head in its direction as he saw a robotic female approach him, black-outfit making her look VERY slim, with a red helm over her head and tipless white gloves showing off almost Irken-like long clawed fingers. "But madness is merely genius to a small mind, and when compared to you, most organics have small minds."

"...what ARE you? Explain yourself!" Zim demanded angrily, pointing at her. "Tell Zim!"

"Explanation: I have an offer for you." The woman said. "I am Miyu. I ask this..."

She held up a ring in her finger...a faint orange glow to it.

"Join my corps."

...

...The kids of the school were watching, their teachers unable to get them to leave as they saw Gaz and Dib struggling with Two, who kept flinging them around the football field, kicking and punching them whenever they got close enough. Dib had managed to bust one of Two's cheek bones, and Gaz had delivered, WAS delivering-

"YOOOOOWWW-OOOOOOH-HOOOO-HOOOO-HOOOO!"

Ooooch. Gaz fought DIRTY. Two staggered back, flailing out with his ring as a medieval torture rack attached itself via energy construct to Gaz, trying to stretch her out as Dib struggled to break her free, Two cradling his sore crotch. "Y-you dirty little...GAAAAH..."He muttered out.

"You're just going to stand there and watch them suffer like that?" Gretchen asked the others as Ms. Bitters calmly looked up from her copy of "Beyond Good and Evil", "harrumphed" and went back to reading. The rest of the class looked around at each other, almost hesitant.

"We can't just stand here and WATCH!" Gretchen insisted angrily, waving her arms in the air. "We've gotta DO something! ANYTHING to help them!"

"That thing can shoot finger-beams. What're WE gonna do?" The Letter M asked, scratching his head as Poonchy nodding in agreement.

"Oooooh. He just made a shark." Zita called out as Dib yelled for his life, climbing one of the football poles as Two danced in victory, Gaz being beaten up by a cheer-leading team he'd summoned forth with his ring, Gaz swearing to rip off Two's head and make him eat it later. Somehow.

She could do it, you know! She TOTALLY could!

"GRAAAAH!" Gretchen tugged at her hair, exiting the room and stomping out into the hallway-

Running into a beautiful-looking being who was standing by the Guidance Counselor. Her eyes widened as the Guidance Counselor nodded at the angel.

"This is her."

"I'm surprised you figured it out."

"I spent years around the Entity of Love. I know souls filled with it. And her love for Dib has marked her."

The Beautiful Angel stepped forward, putting something in Gretchen's hand. "You won't remember us. Nobody in this school will remember us, my friend will make sure of that. But when the time comes, you'll know what to do inside your heart." The Beautiful Angel crooned, taking Gretchen's cheek and kissing her on the forehead before leaving, Gretchen moving the ring in her hand to her pocket as the Guidance Counselor took her shoulder.

It was as if a veil that had been placed over her eyes was ripped away. "Wh-what was I doing?" She asked, scratching her head as Mr. Thildari moved her back to the class.

"I THINK you were watching THAT." Mr. Thildari said cheerily, pointing outside the opened-up walls as two forms descended from the sky on blue wings, Dib gasping as a green blaze swirled around him, power coursing through his body. Now he was returned to his once-heroic form, standing tall and proud, his Will reasserted over the ring as Two snarled furiously, turning on Frequency.

"You! And...and YOU?" He gasped, seeing Skoodge as Skoodge smiled over in a surprised Dib and Gaz's direction.

"Power levels at 104%...119%...124%..." Dib's ring called out as Skoodge gave Dib the best thumbs up he could.

"Don't worry, Dib-Thing. Hope's wings have always lifted Will higher than it could ever soar. Trust me...All will be well." Skoodge spoke kindly, comfortingly.

And did he look IMPRESSIVE. A cloth covering the top of his head and forehead, with the white symbol of Hope emblazoned upon it. His outfit was vaguely Shamanic...long robe-like shirt to wear, exposing his arms, tipless gloves, plain, simple...and above all, he looked so peaceful and comforted. So SMUG, almost.

"So you've betrayed us?" Two growled at Frequency.

"What can I say, dude?" Frequency laughed, holding his ring up with Dib and Skoodge. "Except...COWABUNGAAAAAA!"

With that, an ENORMOUS blue wave of energy shot forth from Frequency's ring, formed like a tidal wave that SLAMMED into Zerinim Two Jookiba with all the fury of an ocean, as Dib now launched his OWN shark at Two, the pointy nose JAMMING into Two's chest, making him gasp in pain as he was sent spiraling through the air, knocked around by the wave...

Skoodge leaped forward, forming an enormous pair of hands that suddenly pinned Two to the ground, a pair of hands that rapidly became attached to the energy construct of a professional wrestler.

"And now Rodrick has his evil twin Rodrick in a Leg Hold!" Skoodge laughed, the wrestler slamming Two into the ground over and over before tossing him through the goal posts.

"TOUCHDOWN!" Gaz laughed, racing towards Two and kicking him squarely in the face, knocking him through the air and towards the school, right in the direction of Ms. Bitters.

"Huh?" She looked up just in time.

KA-THRUNCKA!

Everyone let out a simultaneous "Ewwwww" and stepped away as Two stood up, dusting himself off and looking down beneath him at what he'd landed on. He stuck his worm-like tongue out, stepping off and watching as Ms. Bitters' feet curled up, the rest of her body melting away as she let out a final sigh of "What a woooorld".

"It's over." Dib said, cracking his knuckles as Skoodge, Frequency, Gaz and he approached Two, who growled and reached into his vest, pulling out a small capsule-like computer.

"You'll never control Dib again, not with ME here, brah." Frequency proclaimed. "And you ain't gonna get to GAZ, either. We've spoken with the Big Bad behind it himself and he's given the ALL clear. Try to take her over again, you get a wipe out!"

"No. It's just BEGINNING." Two growled out. "EMERGENCY TEMPORAL SHIFT."

With a WHOOMP, he was gone, vanished from sight as the class looked from the wreckage to Dib, who scratched the back of his head. Were they FINALLY going to believe him now about the aliens thing?

"I guess...you're all wondering about all of that, right?" He asked.

"It's a gang war, you see." Mr. Thildari said quickly, stepping forward and waving a hand in the air. "Dib informed me that members of a gang who were INSANELY jealous of our school since it's so amazing, especially the clean bathrooms..."

"Oh yeah, yeah."

"Absolutely.

"Of course." Everyone agreed, nodding their heads.

"So they prepared to carry out an attack and decided to beat up Dib because he was the most noticeable of us all with his big head. Luckily Dib's friends here were skilled enough to fend them off with the fancy technological equipment that Prof. Membrane loaned his son and his friends in the event something strange like this ever happened. Isn't that right, Gaz?" Mr. Thildari wanted to know.

Gaz shrugged. "Yeah. Whatever."

"Oh, yes, YES." Gretchen said quickly. "Oh, Dib and I have talked about this before when we're alone! Some people have mace in their pockets, he's got super-tech!" She lied with a smile, quickly putting one arm around his and grinning.

"Er...yeah! Big, bad, rival gangs! It was all a rival gang." Dib decided quickly, gulping nervously. "DEFINITELY not aliens! And these guys are just in costumes cuz they were going to a party at my house later this afternoon. Costume party. Really private affair and stuff. Right, Gaz?"

"Yeah. Costume party. I mean, you can see the zipper!" Gaz chuckled, pointing at Skoodge's teeth as he grinned.

"Well, I think Gretchen had best inform the principal of our little...predicament...with your teacher." Mr. Thildari told the class. "And I think that perhaps I should drive you home, Dilbert, Gazeline...it's been a long, long day and I think we could all use a break, especially you two..."

...

... "I can't BELIEVE they bought it. I can't believe TWO bought it! One of the worst performances of my career and he didn't doubt it for a second." Frequency laughed, slapping his knee as Skoodge poured everyone some soda using GIR, who opened up his mouth. Gaz then closed GIR up and moved him over her chips, pulling down on an arm as nacho cheese was squirted down onto her snack. "I don't even know what the Entity of Rage LOOKS like! Ha! This is off...the...HOOK!"

"Hope, huh?" Dib inquired, looking Skoodge over as he calmly sipped some Diet-Poopsi, nodding sagely.

"Yes. Our Exemplar Rings gain power from the Entities of Emotions, and I was meant to wield Hope the way you were meant to wield Will, and Gaz was meant to wield Rage." Skoodge explained.

"Meant to? Entities?" Dib asked.

"What...ARE you?" Zim inquired, eyes widening at the ring in Miyu's hand.

"I suppose I should explain." Frequency admitted, sitting in a chair nearby as GIR clapped his hands together, beaming.

"It's STORYTIME?" GIR asked cheerily, hopping up and down.

"Uh...yep."

"Ooh, does it involve monkeys?"

Skoodge snorted, looking over in Dib and Gaz's directions as Gaz growled. "What's THAT supposed to mean?"

Frequency laughed and chuckled slightly, holding out his ring as an series of images began to form for them all, GIR's eyes widening. "Oooooooh. Laser liiiiights..."

"In the beginning, there was just one universe planned for creation. What happened...was something quite different. There was a...change...in the nature of the cosmos." Mr. Thildari explained calmly.

"Instead of ONE universe being made, a multiverse was created." Miyu went on. "Endless parallel worlds, similar in some ways, bizarrely different in others, were formed. All were occupying the same space, but vibrating at entirely different frequencies."

"Like two cars parked side by side in the same parking lot...or sometimes right on top of one another, with nobody realizing." The guidance counselor suggested.

"And there were entities, beings of INCREDIBLE power, that watched over all of this and spread the power of emotions through the universe." Miyu murmured. "The first was entity of Life, Sude, of the Seraphi race."

Zim blinked. "The Seraphi?" Wait, the Irken race had SENT invaders in the direction of the soc-called home of the Seraphi, the planet Allforce. What had happened to them? Had they becme dragon chow? They'd never heard from the fools again...

"I know what you're thinking. The race did not perform things such as that. They were the kind who offered laughter and joy up to their God instead of blood rituals. They simply sent Irken laughter to Sude."

Zim raised a non-existent eyebrow. "...wait...you mean?"

FIVE HUNDRED YEARS AGO...

"WE'LL TICKLE YOU FOREVER!" One brown and yellow-horned draconic being exclaimed as he held a giant feather up from a box, the tied-up Irken nearby gulping as his friends were held in place. "Prepare to enter the unbearable world of COOCHY-COOCHY-COO!"

PRESENT...

"ANNNNYHOW, the next was the entity of Passion, Chulainn. He's turned all nasty and dark when he became "Rage". Frequency went on with a sad expression flickering across his face. "Poor dude. Then we got the pretty lil' entity of Hope, Psyche. She's cute, in a weird way." He added, tilting his head to the side. "Kinda...looks like a butterfly. I think she IS that, a big, alien butterfly."

"And I spent many years conversing with the Entity of Love before I came here." Mr. Thildari explained, putting one hand to his chest. "Jourmungdr sent me here to the Base Earth to keep an eye on the planet and those within. It said this place was too important to be ignored. I've been keeping up a guise, with the Entity taking my place back at my home planet without anybody noticing."

"This world...this MUDBALL is...actually important?" Zim scratched his head. "How?"

"EVERYTHING in the multiverse stems from the material found in this base Earth." Skoodge interjected. "Remember when he talked about the "parking lot" analogy? Think of your world as an original model of car, and every other car in the lot is a rip-off or copy of that original." Skoodge went on as visible models of the many parallel Earths floated around.

"Without this world, there won't BE any other parallel Earths. No more stories of Zim and Dib and Gaz and GIR. This world is the cornerstone upon which the multiverse of Universe I-Z spins..." Miyu went on, gesticulating in the air. "Within this world...there's the POTENTIAL to remake the world that was tragically lost."

"They want to bring it back. If one tried to sacrifice enough of this world, Earth B-S will return. The people of this world will be, well...they get folded into the historical fabric. Become reborn anew, I guess you could say..." Frequency admitted.

"I'll DIE?"

"Answer: You'll become BETTER." Miyu informed him waving a clawed finger in the air. "You will reach your physical and mental peak, and will become a being both feared, loved and admired across the universe. And it is not just you. GIR, Minimoose, they'll be better too. People will respect you, Zim, be amazed at what you've become. I would never not lie..."

She gently took his shoulder, smiling at him as the visor on her helmet lifted up, and Zim's eyes widened in surprise. "To my own father."

"I...I need to...think about this." Zim mumbled.

"Statement: I shall do you one better." Miyu informed him as he pocketed his ring. "I will take you to your wife. I think you'll be more than pleasantly surprised."

Zim's eyes bugged out, mouth flopping open. "Zim has a WHAT?"

#invader zim #Zim #Dib #Gaz #superhero #superheroes #fanfiction #fanfic #science #fiction #science fiction #science fiction fantasy #Frequency #Miyu #GIR #Skoodge #Gretchen

3 notes · View notes

chuckling-chemist · 4 years ago

Text

No One Understands Kingdom Hearts

Okay, I know I make the joke of saying “the stupidest thing I’ve ever written” before I write the second stupidest thing I’ve ever written, but this time I seriously, actually mean it this time. I am not sure we’re going to top this one, lads.

There’s no warnings, but heads up this thing is incredibly rough and is unedited/beta-ed. I just had to write it out after a series of snapchats between @commentisunrelated and myself. About you know. Xehanort. And hearts.

It felt like they’d been running for hours. Hours of white walls and white ceilings, ambushing faceless shadows dressed in black cloaks long before they had the chance to strike. Ren didn’t remember the last time they encountered a safe room. If it hadn’t been for his cooking, the Phantom Thieves’ stamina would’ve been wiped out far too long ago, and they’d be stuck traversing through this nightmare of a Palace another day under potentially different circumstances.

He was fast to jump on the first door that looked different – heart shaped, its pink color almost pulsing against the white. Locked, but not a problem. Ren picked locks for so long in his life he was practically a master at it now, Metaverse abilities or not.

“Readings say it’s pretty important,” Futaba said. “Might have a boss inside.”

“What about a map?” Makoto asked.

Futaba shrugged helplessly. “If he’s got a map, then yeah. Otherwise? We’re on our own still.”

Ryuji groaned. “Goddamn it. I hate this place. This…this effing--”

Ren heard a few taps on something behind him, followed by Futaba saying, “Xehanort’s Kingdom of Hearts. That was the key phrase. Don’t ask me why.”

The hefty, heart shaped lock clicked open, dropping to the ground with a resounding thud. Ren turned back to the rest of the group with a grin. “Showtime.”

Unsurprisingly, the room was painfully white. It was also wide open, with absolutely no cover from the singular shadow standing beyond them – human looking, with gold eyes and long silver hair that stood out against the man’s long black and white coat. He watched, motionless, as the group walked in. Just like Futaba predicted. On the corner of his vision, he saw the fuzzy outlines of what looked to be a safe room. This man, clearly waiting for them, was the only barrier between their goal.

“Welcome, thieves,” he said. If he noticed Ren immediately grabbing for his baselard, he didn’t say anything, opting instead to continue standing there with his arms crossed. “I see you’re after Kingdom Hearts.”

“Are we?” Ann blinked owlishly. “Wait, did this shadow name the Treasure?”

“Oh no. Kingdom Hearts is one thing: Kingdom Hearts is darkness.”

Ryuji scowled. “Wait what? I thought Kingdom Hearts was—”

“Kingdom Hearts!” the man shouted, as if Ryuji said nothing, “fill me with the power of darkness!!”

The shadow transformed, morphing into a black beast not unlike the ones they’d seen at other points in the Palace. Darkness in the form of inky black smoke pooled around them, cutting off their vision as smaller shadows bombarded them. It was only thanks to Captain Kidd’s lightning and the light from Power’s hama the Phantom Thieves saw anything during the fight. By the end, the shadow disappeared into nothingness, leaving the rest of them exhausted.

“That’s a safe room up there. Let’s pack it up for now and return in a couple days when we have our strength back,” Ren said. He wasn’t ready to process the shadow ate up that much of their energy and didn’t even have the decency to drop a map. That was, apparently, asking for too much.

No one argued with him. They were all too tired.

When they went at it a second time, it was the same thing all over again. White rooms. White halls. Black shadows. Pink hearts. Hoping they made progress.

The answer to their question came at the appearance of another Shadow. Like the previous one, he was tall with long white hair. Unlike the previous one, he dressed himself in what Ren swore was a zebra-fur coat, though simultaneously knew it couldn’t be possible since the man in question didn’t technically come from a place where zebras existed.

“Who’re you?” Ren demanded.

“I am Xemnas. I seek to bring Kingdom Hearts,” he said. His voice rattled just as deeply as the previous Shadow, though different. Hollow.

“Oh…kay,” Futaba said. “And what exactly is Kingdom Hearts?”

Xemnas smirked. With a snap of his fingers, white walls gave way to reveal a monstrous, actual heart-shaped thing in the sky past the windows. “Kingdom Hearts,” he said slowly, almost in a drawl, “is how us Nobodies will feel again. It is a heart for all Nobodies!”

“And what does that have to do with it being darkness?” Morgana asked.

“Yeah, the last guy told us Kingdom Hearts was darkness!” Ryuji shouted.

Xemnas didn’t answer. Rather, the instrument of apparent darkness used to make Nobodies (whatever those were) to feel again shot a beam of light through the room.

The fight afterward was grueling. Physical attacks did almost nothing to him, resulting in Ryuji and Yusuke taking a backseat as the heavier magic-aligned Persona users blasted him. Kingdom Hearts – at least, what Xemnas claimed was Kingdom Hearts – proved to be its own problem as well. While Xemnas attacked them with his own laser beams, “Kingdom Hearts” shot at them from afar. It managed to catch Ren’s coat more than a few times, singeing the tail.

Still, they managed to end the fight. Xemnas faded away into darkness, and Kingdom Hearts disappeared from the window along with him. Where Xemnas once stood, a map lay crumpled on the floor in his place.

“Oh thank goodness,” Haru said.

“I was beginning to get worried we’d never find it,” Makoto said.

Ren nodded wordlessly in agreement. He picked it up, scanning it for any relevant details.

“I have good news.”

“Oh?” Yusuke asked.

“One more push and we’re at the Treasure. Looks like Xemnas even had the thought to tell us what it’s called.”

“Really?” Morgana’s eyes shone brightly. He hopped up onto Ren’s shoulder, and Ren swore he felt every excited vibration running through the cat as he scanned the map up and down. “Wait, that’s not the Treasure name! That just says Kingdom Hearts!”

Ren used his free hand to point at the arrow pointed neatly to the big red spot marked in a suspiciously large chamber toward the center of the castle. Above the arrow was the name Kingdom Hearts scrawled in dark ink. “You sure? Looks like it’s pointing to a treasure to me.”

“But he said Kingdom Hearts was a heart for all Nobodies,” Ann said.

Haru frowned. “The man before said Kingdom Hearts was darkness,” she said.

“Perhaps it is both?” Yusuke closed his eyes as if in contemplation. “Maybe all so-called Nobodies have hearts filled completely in darkness, and Kingdom Hearts is a collection of all of those.”

“If that’s the case, all the better we’re changing his heart,” Morgana said.

“But wait.” Makoto shook her head. “Earlier in the Palace, we came across books calling Kingdom Hearts all sorts of different things. Some called it light, others called it a portal, others said it was used to make a sword. How can it be all of those things and also a heart for Nobodies and a representation of darkness?”

“Maybe it’s whatever the summoner of Kingdom Hearts desires?” Haru said.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until after the Palace is completed. Come on, we’ve almost secured a route.”

After the fight with Xemnas, the rest of the Palace was a breeze. Ren tried not to focus on the noticeable physical similarities the grunt shadows shared with Xemnas and the other shadow from earlier, but as their difficulty seemed to melt away, it proved more and more difficult. By the time they reached the Treasure and secured a route, Ren was absolutely certain every single shadow was merely a stand-in for the Palace owner himself.

The following days started as normal: send the calling card (an unusual circumstance, but Futaba made it work), infiltrate the Palace and steal the treasure. Ren sold some of their treasure (hearts, they were all somehow related to hearts) off at Iwai for some extra cash that he immediately traded off for medicine at Takemi’s clinic. He didn’t know what to expect, and after months of doing this he learned to prepare for the worst.

And by worst, Ren meant fighting the Palace ruler.

Needless to say, shortly after they took the Treasure – which had taken the form of, what else but a silver gray heart – ahead of them stood the palace ruler, Xehanort. An old man, balding with a long gray beard and a notably similar outfit to the first man they found.

“You really think you can just come here and take Kingdom Hearts? After all the work I’ve done to bring it about?”

“What?!” Ryuji shouted. Thank God it was Morgana who held the Treasure, otherwise Ryuji would’ve dropped it right there. He marched straight up to the old man, grabbing him by the lapel of his coat. It was almost like their previous conversation about the nature of Kingdom Hearts never happened. “What do you mean this is effing Kingdom Hearts?”

“Skull! Get back here!” Ann shouted.

The man’s lips curled into a smirk. “Yes Skull, return to your friends.” He pushed Skull away with a shocking amount of strength for an old man. With the flick of his wrist, the Treasure morphed from a heart into the strangest, key-shaped weapon any of them had ever seen in their life. Another wrist flick, and the blade disappeared out of Morgana’s paws, moving straight into Xehanort’s hands. “And yield, Phantom Thieves to the true power of Kingdom Hearts!”

As Xehanort’s hands touched the Treasure, darkness surrounded his form. It twisted and shifted around him, the influence of the Metaverse taking over to turn the Shadow into his true form. The first time it happened, back with Kamoshida, Ren had to admit it frightened him. Now? Ren was numb to the change.

At least, he would be, except Xehanort’s form shifted into something quickly becoming painfully familiar to the Phantom Thieves: a twisted, dark shadow in the shape of some sort of malformed heart with eyes and a mouth. Spindly, monochromatic limbs popped out of either side to give it some semblance of arms and legs. It clung onto the key-like blade of a Treasure for dear life. A horrific monstrosity, truly, but not in the way Ren ever expected.

“Kingdom Hearts! Come, consume me with your power!!”

Ryuji sighed. “So what, now he’s Kingdom Hearts?!”

“Perhaps the nature of Kingdom Hearts isn’t important, only what it means to the self,” Yusuke said.

“Yeah right! If it didn’t mean shit this whole place wouldn’t be Kingdom Hearts.” Ryuji grabbed his pipe and pointed it at the giant heart, ready to charge. “I’m starting to think this yahoo doesn’t even know what Kingdom Hearts is!”

And with that, Ryuji bolted forward toward the shadow.

“Skull wait!” Morgana exclaimed.

It was too late. They were left charging in after Ryuji for a fight unlike any they’ve had before.

#my writing #shitpost writing #this is not getting tagged with any fandoms #they dont' need to know about this #hopefully its cursed enough #i have actual stuff i should be working on and i chose this instead

6 notes · View notes

inkribbon796 · 3 years ago

Text

The Emissaries of Death and War Ch. 1 Strike Fast, Strike First

Summary: Some old enemies show up to fight Dark, who has three of his Lost Ones with him.

A/N: Techno and Philza are sworn blood brothers in this AU. There will be no shipping of them here, only the promise of Tommy and Wilbur angst in the future.

Chapters: 1, 2

Dark was having a rare calm day, mostly because as opposed to most days, because unlike other days he had not only Illinois with him but Bim and the Host. So his blue soul was in an extremely good mood and Dark wanted to keep it that way.

The Entity knew something was wrong with his aura and he wanted to make sure his blue soul wasn’t to blame again. But to do that effectively Dark needed both his souls calm so he could thoroughly inspect his blue soul without his red soul flying into a protective fury. She tended to think he was going to hurt her brother.

But for the moment his souls were calm and Dark had one of the Lost One he rarely got to see.

It was a good day, until Dark noticed there were a lot of crows watching them. Too many crows. There had to be well over a hundred.

Dark thought, at least for a second or two, that the birds belonged to King. The young man had more than a couple ravens, crows, and other birds sworn to his service due to being fed and protected by him. These crows were different, Dark realized they weren’t even birds, just manifestations of aura.

“Heya[1] mate.”

Dark turned to look behind him, his aura curling around the three Lost Ones as he recognized the two individuals down the street. One in a green haori and the other in full armor and a pig mask. The second individual was a beast of a person with a long braid of pink hair.

The Angel of Death, and the Blood God.

“Fuck,” Dark hissed under his breath.

“When I first got to this place I thought I smelt the iron fist of a dictator,” Techno gave as a greeting. “Thought you would have learned after Agra. You’re lucky the first thing I came across was a very nice glitch who showed me you don’t rule this entire city. Or else I would have torched this place to the ground.”

Dark braced for an attack, already readying his aura to make portals.

Then Techno moved first, as he tended to, bloodlust boiling in his eyes. Dark had seen that haze come over him in battle before.

“Sic semper tyrannis,”[2] Techno promised as he raced at Dark and his companion drew his own sword and his cloak pulled off of him to show that it had been a pair of dark grey wings.

Dark tried to push his three sons into a portal and move them safely to the Manor but the Host’s aura stopped him.

“The Host has been waiting for this,” the Host told Dark.

“This is not some game, they are older and stronger than all of you,” Dark spat as he split his aura and attention between trying to keep the worst of Techno’s hits from landing on his sons and just keep Philza from throwing himself into the fight and making it harder for Dark to defend his three sons.

“Then the Host fails to understand how the Entity could face both opponents on his own,” the Host informed Dark. “The Host will take care of his brothers, the Entity should deal with the Blade’s sworn blood brother.”

Mostly by force, not by choice, Dark had to concentrate on his current opponent. He did his best to try and keep an eye on the other fight.

“Never thought you’d be the type to have some spawnlings, mate, much less keep ‘em[3] around,” Philza smiled, his sword glowing a vibrant purple as it tried to cut through Dark’s aura. “But yah[4] think they can really take on the Blade?”

“What do you two want?” Dark growled, barely noticing the swirl of black crows and ravens racing towards him in time, and Dark brought his aura up to block as much of the attack as possible. “This is my city!”

“Exactly, mate,” Philza grinned, “you had ta[5] know we’d find out about it eventually.”

After they broke apart again, Phil glanced around, grinning, “Where’s Phantom? Been a while since we all played catch up.”

“He and I are no longer pact mates,” Dark growled, shoving the avian back with his aura.

“Ehh, good fer[6] you, mate.” Philza was all smiles. “Bloke was a shite friend anyways.”

“Shut up,” Dark hissed back as Phil’s smile widened, and Dark charged at him with his aura. The Entity noticed in the strike that some of Philza’s feathers were burned off to the bone, which explained why he hadn’t taken to the sky and tried skewering Dark from above like he annoyingly tended to do in fights.

With the three brothers, Techno was proving to be a more forceful fighter than they were used to. And he had singled out a main target: Bim.

While Bim had an aura that could score marks in just about everything he didn’t exactly have the best control over it. And so Techno focused on taking down the more unpredictable opponent.

Bim knew he was nowhere near as powerful as his brothers. He and Dark had certainly trained a bit with his aura but Dark never wanted to actually train him unless Bim asked first and Bim didn’t want to ask Illinois or Anti because he was so jealous that aura just came naturally to his older brother and he wanted to already be at the stage he could impress people with it. He could only make either one large portal or several smaller portals big enough to fit his hands and he had been warned several times not to accidentally close his hands on them — as Dark had demonstrated with a slab of meat and Bim had watched the thing get cut in half.

Unfortunately, he was not and it was obvious to everyone around that Bim wasn’t as skilled as his older brothers.

“Bim, out of the way!” Illinois shouted and pulled Bim back in time so that when Techno came at the young man the blade slid through Bim’s aura and slashed him across the arm instead of cutting his whole arm off. Thankfully it didn’t cut deep, but Bim screamed in pain and then Illinois was there, putting himself in-between his brother and their opponent.

Several gunshots rang out, and Techno and the trio of brothers turned to see Wilford standing there with his revolver and a huge smile on his face.

“You all having fun without me?” Wilford chuckled but then when his eyes locked with the eyes of Techno’s mask, Wil’s smile began to fade and his ears started to bleed and he was muttering something repeatedly.

The three brothers didn’t know what Wilford was saying, but Techno did: “Blood for the Blood God”. It was a phrase that Techno heard almost every waking moment. The voices that fought for his attention would often repeat it, among other things.

Bim tried to hit Techno but the experienced fighter summoned a shield to knock Bim back.

“Be with you in a sec,” Techno promised him as Wilford turned and immediately started bolting for the nearest crowd, taking out his stiletto knife and shooting and just stabbing people without saying a single word.

“Dad?” Bim whispered in shock.

“Host!” Illinois yelled, reaching out for his older brother.

“The Host is trying,” the Host shouted back at him.

“아빠!”[7] Illinois called out.

“Phil!” Techno called out at the same time and both Phil and Dark stopped fighting to look out at the sea of carnage quickly spreading out in the city. “Phil!”

“What’d you do, mate?” Phil demanded.

The fight came to a sudden screeching halt as Dark ported His three boys to the Manor and raced after Wil, using his aura to dodge bullets as he went, Techno and Phil hot on his heels.

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

Post A/N: In retrospect maybe having someone who can canonically read minds, and someone who canonically has thousands of voices screaming in his head together in the same space is a bad idea.

Accessibility Translations:

1. Hey there

2. Thus always to tyrants.

3. them

4. you

5. to

6. for

7. Dad! (Korean — used informally, phonetically read as: Appa.)

#superhero au #masks and maladies #dream smp #footnotes #Darkiplier #wilford warfstache #illinois the adventurer #ahwm illinois #bim trimmer #the Host #technoblade #Philza #darkstache #Philza and Techno are blood brothers #magic #fighting

6 notes · View notes

dragonheart-swtor · 4 years ago

Text

The Need to Know

Summary: In which Eris wakes up from a nightmare desperately needing to be sure of something she can only trust her husband to confirm.

Tags: No Archive warnings apply, Vector/F!Imperial Agent, hurt/comfort, established relationship, Imperial Agent storyline spoilers, mind control, recovering from mind control, trauma, hurt/comfort, angst

AO3 link here

---

Eris was suffocating.

She was in a dim-lit room, somewhere that could have been anywhere in the galaxy, and she was face to face with Ardun Kothe and she was suffocating.

There was no sympathy on his face, no hint of regret or guilt or anything but cold calculation. Something weighed on her neck, tight around her throat and growing ever tighter, but when she clutched at it instinctively there was nothing there to grasp. She gasped for air, grabbed for her vibroknife because this is his doing, if I kill him -

She drew back to stab him in the chest, between the ribs to end it fast – her hand froze, unable to make the blow. Her muscles rebelled, control of her own body slipping away from her like water through her fingers. She tried to scream, out of rage or panic she didn't know.

She still couldn't breathe.

Kothe was gone, vanished, but her instincts warned her something worse was coming half a second before she heard his voice.

“Now, now, Legate. Don't be rude.”

Ironically, it was only then that she found it in her to turn, to raise her knife before her and -

And Hunter was far too close, and she couldn't focus on anything but his face, filling her entire field of vision as he leered into her face and that hated word fell from his lips -

“Keyword: onomatophobia.”

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

“Eris?”

---

She snapped awake, frozen, unable to move oh gods she couldn't move -

It took her a few seconds to realize the reason wasn't because she'd lost control again, it was because her muscles were so tense she was locked in place. She gulped in air, fighting to rein herself in, force herself to breathe and relax.

“Eris,” the voice repeated, and she sobbed with relief at the sound. Not Hunter. Vector.

The noise must have frightened him more than anything else to this point, because she saw him move then, start to reach for her before stopping himself. “May we touch you?” he asked gently.

Her muscles were starting to relax again. She forced herself to nod, and Vector's hand fell on her shoulder, providing steady, grounding pressure.

Eris sat up in bed, and Vector sat up with her, turned to face her. She couldn't look into his face, just stared at her own trembling hands and tried to regulate her own breathing. He rubbed her shoulders, murmuring, “It's all right. It was a nightmare. You're safe with us. You're in our room on the Phantom and you're safe.”

Safe. Yes. Vector was safe. He would never hurt her, not even in her worst nightmares. Vector would never hurt her.

His hand moved toward her face, slow and careful; when she didn't flinch away, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, swiping away tears. She'd been crying, maybe before she even woke up. She hadn't realized. “Is there anything we can do?” he asked softly.

Eris looked up at him then, suddenly desperate and fierce and filled with dread and fire. He held her gaze, worry plain to see on his face, as she searched his expression, his bottomless black eyes, looking for – something. She wasn't sure what. She found only Vector, only the Dawn Herald of Oroboro, only her husband.

Oroboro. “Swear to me the nest can keep a secret,” she whispered.

She'd asked him about it before, long ago; he'd promised then that no member of Oroboro would betray her, any more than he himself would. For whatever reason, he didn't question her asking again now. “We can and we will,” he promised.

Her tongue was lead, heavy and poisonous; she had to spit it out before she could talk herself out of it. She had to know. “Keyword: onomatophobia. Say it. Give me a command. Anything.”

He recoiled, face contorting in shock and confusion. “We – don't understand -”

“Say it,” she insisted, clutching at his hands. “Keyword: onomatophobia. And a command, any command. Please. I need – I need to know.”

He gripped her hands tight, taking his turn to search her face this time, and apparently whatever he saw there – she was in no state to hide her terror and desperation – convinced him. He licked his lips, uncertain. “Keyword: onomatophobia,” he repeated slowly, and Eris had to swallow a sudden rise of terror in her throat. His eyes darted away from her – a motion probably anyone else would have missed – as if searching for something to prompt him. “...Get out of bed.”

Eris's breath caught in her throat. The words hung in the air, a simple order but a clear one, and she waited – waited for the inevitable dissociation, for her facial expression to lose any connection to her actual emotions, for her body to move without her consent.

It didn't come. She sat, holding her breath, staring desperately into Vector's face as he stared back into hers, as the seconds ticked by.

It must have been half a minute at least before she finally believed it. Just like that, she sagged like a marionette with its strings cut – a horrible metaphor, considering the context, but an accurate one, she supposed – and buried her face in the crook of Vector's neck. He wrapped his arms around her to support her as she let out a long, shaky breath. “Thank you,” she mumbled against his skin, trying and failing to stop shaking. “Thank you. Thank you.”

He shushed her gently, stroking her hair. When she'd settled a bit, he asked quietly, “That was... your keyword, wasn't it? From before.”

She nodded, not lifting her head from his chest. “I had to be sure,” she whispered. “I had to know for sure and if – if I was wrong, if I was still – you're the only one I can trust with it. You're the only one I can trust.”

He didn't protest that, just hugged her tighter to him as he tugged them both gently back down to lie down under the covers again. And they lay alone in the dark together until she finally stopped shaking, as Vector hummed Killik songs to her until consciousness faded and the world went dark again.

This time, she didn't dream, just woke up again in Vector's arms surrounded by his love and his scent and the final, absolutely certain knowledge that she was safe in her own body, that she would never have her will stolen from her again.

#star wars #swtor #swtor ocs #imperial agent #vector hyllus #fanfiction #hark! a wild fic appears #it's short don't worry #erisine #hey tumblr you wanna make the line break work for once? that'd be great #we'll see how that goes

21 notes · View notes

avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years ago

Text

Sound the Trumpets (Death Comes a Calling)

Going Angst Week 2021 | Day 5 - Death

Ft. TUE AU where Clockwork never meddles with the timeline and a lot of character death.

A/N: this was inspired by Memorial by Alice Oswald

[AO3]

On the seventh day, Joshua, leader of the Israelites, marched his army around Jericho seven times. And on the seventh march, he bade his priests to blow their ram’s horns and ordered his men to raise a great shout. At the sound of the trumpets, at the sound of the soldiers’ bellows, the walls of the impenetrable city shook and shuddered, collapsing into nothing on the earth as Jericho was laid bare for the conquering.

For Dan— simply Dan, for God has long since fled him— it took but a single cry.

The barrier around Amity Park, the last bastion of humanity, shattered like glass, as hell screamed from above.

The first to die was VALERIE. Brave Red Huntress, the hope of the world. Strongest amongst them with her suit streaking red as she flew to the skies. Always the first to fight, the first to defend. She died attempting to lead Phantom away from the city, plummeting from the air, weighed down by the hoverboard she rode. You could see the ring of frostbite her ankles from where Phantom froze her feet, dark blue and necrotic black despite the momentary exposure.

KWAN dies from an ectoblast to the back. A gurgle on his lips as he, too, falls from the sky. Blood spills from his mouth as wind whips past the hole in his chest. His parents are huddled together in the bunkers underneath the city, fingers laced together and stone-faced as they worry about their son. They will hear a loud thump above the bunkers— one sound among the cacophony of screams and explosions— and convince themselves that it is simply a tree or a lamp post that had toppled over.

Little MIKEY, who shot up like a tree but still lanky and cowardly in the face of danger, ushers his wife and newborn child into the bunkers. He goes to follow, but stops. Turns. A few meters away there’s a little girl laying on the ground, blotchy faced as debris fly overhead. The doors to the bunkers are slowly closing. He makes a choice. Mikey presses a kiss to his pleading wife, his wailing newborn, and runs to the girl. The child enters the bunker seconds before the metal doors close with a hiss. Mikey dies with a smile, bleeding at the steps of the bunker, legs crushed by the falling pieces of Amity’s skyscrapers.

Everyone knows when PAULINA dies. 1:30 P.M., the sun shining as brightly as it did, reflecting on the ruins of the Resistance’s HQ. Paulina Sanchez has acted as the city’s lead strategist for five years now, organizing supplies and working with others to create drills, providing morale to a city whose numbers keep dwindling with every year that passes. The soldiers she helped train hear her last words on the comms, her harsh breathes marred by harsher static as she continues to issue them orders. Paulina was born to command and died commanding.

STAR, ever her satellite, died protecting Paulina moments before. Activates every single trap within HQ with pinpoint accuracy, all to buy enough time for her best friend to escape. She is buried in concrete. Her signature flower hair clip fell from her head at some point in the battle and lies singed some ways away.

SPIKE is killed when he tries shooting Phantom in the head.

DALE is shot trying to drag Spike’s body to the nearest medic.

Phantom rears his head back to take a breath, and the city shatters once again at his howl.

DASH dies on his knees, arms outstretched and body pierced with glass. Behind him, pushed away, was a newly minted soldier and the rest of his squad. Dash had once confessed to Kwan, in the lonely hours between patrolling their city, that he always feared peaking at highschool. That his glory days had started and stopped as Casper High’s star quarterback. After today, there will be few who remembered Dash the Quarterback or Dash the Bully. They will remember Dash, leader of the fifth infantry division, who fought bravely and died saving his men. A hero at last.

The ghostly wail tears down buildings, but it also cracks the earth. The roofs of bunkers are ripped open with a groan, revealing the shattered blue sky and crumbling buildings.

A child suffocates in her fathers arms. The father trying desperately to shield his child from the worst of the debris, but his back gives out, and so does his breath, and the child is much too weak to crawl her way out.

A mother sings a shaky lullaby to her baby. A vain attempt to coax it to sleep, so at least it might die in its dreams where the world was happy still.

ANITA dies with her brother HARRY in a fire.

TOM is killed while holding his wife’s hand.

LANCE dies—

WENDY dies—

JOCELYN is killed by—

ALEX falls—

ELIJA—

YUI

SAFIYA

CALEB

WILL

CARRIE

HAROLD

PAM

STAN

JOSHUA

ASHLEY

WES is dying with his back on the ground, bleeding from his throat. With shaky breath and fire in his eyes he looks up at Phantom and gasps—

“You’re no ghost. You’re a monster.”

ELLIE is one of the last to die. It’s dusk, and the once vibrant city has quieted. She’s flying overhead, looking for any sign of survivors. She has found none so far but continues, in that childish way all children do, to hope beyond hope that there is someone out there. That she isn’t alone.

She’s not alone. She encounters him, standing above the ruins of their home— her home, arms crossed and a bored countenance on his face. She sees the red creep into her vision, knows it’s stupid to rush in because she will lose and right now, finding what remains of the city is more important.

She knows that.

It doesn’t stop her from screaming at the sight of him. Ellie surges forward with hands blazing green, throwing her everything in a desperate attempt to hurt him. Phantom throws up a shield with barely a glance in her direction. Ellie pushes more energy into her blast, can feel the bottoms of her feet destabilizing, can feel her hair turn to goop, but she does not stop.

She pushes and pushes. The heat from her blasts melts her palms, her fingers leaking ectoplasm, but still she channels all her energy into this one attack.

Ellie destabilizes into ectoplasm, disintegrating like her clone siblings a decade before.

Phantom’s shield never even cracked.

When Jericho fell, Joshua commanded that a few should be spared.

When Amity Park fell, no one was afforded that same mercy.

#the death count of mentioned characters is about 32 iirc #going angst week 2021 #danny phantom #my writing.txt #dp fic #dan phantom #danielle phantom #valerie gray #paulina sanchez #dash baxter #star #kwan #mikey #other dp side characters

26 notes · View notes

ghostsray · 4 years ago

Text

kin assigned fenton pt. 2

(i hope those of you who read my fenton-phantom au fic wanted more because it’s gonna be a multichapter fic now :) this is supposed to be based on @darks-ink‘s phic phight prompt, but while i was writing it i forgot what the original prompt was, so i forgot that they werent supposed to gain each other’s memories...oops. i hope that’s fine)

(ao3)

summary: phantom makes some friends :)

After day 10 of being stuck inside someone else's body, Phantom finally got used to waking up in the human world.

He opened his eyes to be greeted by the now-familiar star-shaped stickers stuck on the roof. He was starting to hate those plastic stars. While he at first appreciated how neatly Danny had placed them in the shapes of constellations, now they only served to remind him that he was still living Danny's life while the real guy's ghost was in who-knows-where.

Phantom sat up in bed and squinted as the rays of sunlight hit his eyes through the window. He had learned in science class that the sun was a star, and Phantom hated it as much as he hated the fake stars on the ceiling. He missed the blissful darkness of the Ghost Zone. Everything was so dang bright in the human world.

Phantom threw back his (really Danny's) covers and got up. After a week and a half of living as a human, he had settled into a morning routine. Get out of bed, ignoring the terrible pull of gravity on your stolen human body. Go to the bathroom, pointedly refusing to look at the mirror to see Danny's face. Do your business without feeling too weird about your nut not being yours, wash your hands and brush your teeth, go back to Danny's room and change clothes. Stop and gaze at the photograph sitting on Danny's desk which you never moved since you found it, showing Danny and his friends, and wonder where Danny's ghost was.

It's been a week and a half since Danny disappeared after their fight with the toilet ghost. The toilet ghost had unsurprisingly reformed in his haunt in the Casper High restroom, which Phantom knew after one startling bathroom break, but he seemed content just to chill without causing trouble. Danny never reappeared. Phantom honestly felt annoyed at Danny for leaving him to handle his life on his own, which felt very awkward when he knew next to nothing about it.

Or maybe not. Phantom hissed and pressed a hand against his temples as an image assaulted his brain. The smell of the wilderness, a dog's fur under his hands, firewood burning while he and the other Fentons sat with their Aunt Alicia around the firelight, the stars shining above them. Phantom pinched his arm and twisted it, and the image disappeared.

He knew a thing or two about human anatomy, and he knew that he currently had Danny's brain--including his memories. The longer he spent in this body, the more memories he gained access to. How much longer until he remembered all of Danny's life? And if he gained Danny's earthly memories, will he lose his own memories of the Ghost Zone? Will he even be able to tell himself apart from Danny?

Phantom tried not to think about it too much.

He went downstairs to the kitchen. Danny's parents (Maddie and Jack, he had learned were their names) were, as usual, tinkering with some anti-ghost weaponry at the table. Phantom focused on anything but those weapons and tried not to feel too threatened by them. They didn't even work on him, not while he was in their son's body.

There had been a few small ghosts that came through the portal since it had opened, but they never lasted long before either Fenton captured them. Phantom didn't know what they did to the ghosts, and he was too scared to peek into the lab to find out. All he knew was that he sometimes imagined hearing echoing screams rise from the basement. He was just glad none of the ghosts had been someone he knew so far.

Jazz didn't seem bothered by the weapons. She was eating her breakfast while simultaneously reading a book about psychology. At first, Phantom had assumed she studied psychology because she still thought he was crazy for believing himself to be an ex-ghost, but he quickly realized that she simply liked learning about the subject.

He sat down, ignoring the tremors that came from being too close to the ghost hunters, and didn't speak as he ate his breakfast--eggs and bacon, which wasn't as sweet as cereal, but not bad. Apparently, Maddie and/or Jack often accidentally got some ectoplasm from their research onto the food they cooked, which gave it the tangy aftertaste of ecto-plasm. That only made Phantom feel more nostalgic for his old afterlife.

Jazz looked up from her book to check the clock in the kitchen, scraped off the remainder of her meal, and stood up. "Ready for school, Danny?" she said.

Phantom tensed his jaw. "Yeah," he said and stood up with Danny's backpack. He tried not to show any discomfort at being called Danny. After all, he had given up trying to convince the Fentons of his true identity after that first day.

Just like the previous ten days, Jazz drove him to school. He watched the scenery that passed by through the window. He used to find it captivating, how different the landscape was from the Zone and how many humans and animals were alive in this world. Now, he just wished once more that he could return home already.

The now-familiar building of Casper High appeared in front of them, and they exited the car after Jazz parked. Phantom let his stolen body go on autopilot as it moved toward class. Honestly, he used to think the Ghost Zone was boring, but the human world was even more mundane. He just went to the same classrooms every day to learn something about the same old subjects.

As he passed by a hallway, he caught a glimpse of a black-clad girl with a black ponytail. He felt his body tense up as he met Sam's violently violet eyes for a brief second. Then they turned away from each other and moved on.

It was awkward, being anywhere near Danny's old friends. Sam and Tucker were the only other humans who really knew about Phantom, and it didn't make things any easier between them. Imagine your best friend was dead and some stranger took his place, which nobody knew about but you...

They didn't talk much.

"Okay, that's it," some girl said next to him. "What is going on between you and your friends?"

Phantom blinked and turned around to look at her. She had blonde hair with a flower pin holding it away from her face, and she was crossing her arms and looking directly at him. It took him a few slow moments before he asked, "Are you talking to me?"

The blonde rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, I'm talking to you, Fenton. You, Manson, and Foley used to be inseparable. Now, it almost seems like you guys are avoiding each other. So what's up?"

Phantom winced and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. How could he possibly describe that the reason they weren't friends anymore was because he was someone else? After failing to come up with a decent explanation, he decided to use the good ol' method popular among ghosts and growled, "None of your business."

The girl blinked, then smirked. "Wow, Danny. You're a lot tougher than I remember."

Phantom clenched his jaw and turned away. Even with him gaining Danny's memories, it was getting harder each day to pretend to be him. He really wished Danny would come back already, if only to give him some pointers on how to live his life.

He barely made it past a row of lockers before a fist suddenly slammed against a locker right in front of him. Phantom jumped back and looked up into the angry blue eyes of one Dash Baxter. He slumped. "Oh. You again."

Dash gritted his teeth and growled, "I've been holding it together for a week, but I really need to take out my anger on someone."

"What is it this time?" Phantom said noncommittally. "A failed test?"

"It's the fucking locker," Dash said, his breath burning in Phantom's face.

"A...locker?"

Dash grabbed Phantom by his shirt and raised him, his blue eyes glaring holes into him. "The fucking locker! Ever since a row of 'em was mysteriously dented, I had to get a new one near the band room. Which, sure, no biggie, right? But god, every Wednesday there's band practice, and those geeks have to come near me with their stupid spittle and annoying loud instruments. And guess what day it is today?"

"Wednesday?" Phantom guessed.

"Fucking Wednesday!" Dash slammed Phantom against the wall of lockers, which made his head vibrate with pain. At least Phantom knew why Sidney hated bullies so much. They really, really sucked.

Dash was about to give Phantom another painful attack, but just then the bell rang, and everyone filed to class. Dash gave Phantom one more shove before letting go and sneering. "Saved by the bell, but not for long. Get ready for a beating later."

Phantom had a sarcastic comment in mind, but he knew from experience that angering someone stronger than you was never a good idea. So he just glared at Dash's back while Dash stalked away. As he did, Phantom thought he saw what looked like a wisp of smoke following after the jock...but when he blinked, it disappeared.

Phantom scratched his head as he glared at the math worksheet on the desk in front of him. Of all the subjects, geometry was the worst. He never thought that it was important for him to know (maybe because shapes continually shifted in the Ghost Zone), so he never bothered learning it. Apparently, Danny's memories didn't do him much good, either.

Tucker sat next to him. When Danny was still around, that seating arrangement was probably awesome--two best friends sitting right next to each other. Now, it was just awkward. He and Tucker did their best to pretend that the other didn't exist...which was why he was surprised when Tucker leaned in and whispered, "Want some help?"

Phantom looked up at him in surprise. He was watching him from behind those thick glasses of his. The human fidgeted and added, "Don't get me wrong, I still think your whole...situation is weird. But no one deserves to be tortured by school material."

Phantom pursed his lips and looked back to his paper. Of the two of Danny's friends, Tucker had always been the more open. Sam, on the other hand...maybe she already wore black daily before Phantom entered the picture, but he couldn't look at her and not think that it looked like funeral attire, worn for the death of her real friend.

"Sam hates me," Phantom whispered.

"She doesn't hate you," Tucker responded. "She just misses Danny. So do I."

Phantom gazed at the printed numbers sadly. "I don't know where he is. The last I saw or heard from him was on the same day you guys last did."

He didn't need to look at Tucker to know that his words disappointed him. There was a tense silence between them for a moment, then Tucker broke it by saying, "You need to find the cosine."

"Huh?"

Tucker tapped his paper and said, "The first question. You need to find the cosine of the triangle to know the missing angle."

"Oh," Phantom said, feeling stupid.

Tucker spent the rest of the period whispering methods to help him solve their geometry problems when the teacher wasn't listening. Phantom kept sneaking glances at the boy. Tucker's eyes were glued to the schoolwork, refusing to look at Phantom, probably to make it easier to pretend that he wasn't inside his best friend's body. Phantom didn't mind. It was more than enough for him that Tucker even considered talking to him.

Class ended, and Phantom and Tucker gathered their things and stood. Phantom waited for Tucker to leave, but he stayed around while everyone else filed out the classroom. Phantom fidgeted.

"Thank you," he said, figuring that was what the human was waiting for him to say. "For, you know. Helping me out."

Tucker pushed his glasses up and scratched his neck. "I figured it wasn't fair for me to judge you for...being you." As in, not being Danny. "From what I gathered, you didn't ask to be in your situation, either."

"Ancients, no," Phantom confirmed. "I hate being alive."

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "I thought ghosts generally want to be alive again."

"Why'd you think that?"

Tucker shrugged. "It's what's always shown in horror movies."

Phantom didn't know what sorts of ghost myths were broadcasted in human-made movies. He almost opened his mouth to argue, but he hesitated.

Did he hate being alive? He hated being thrust here from the Ghost Zone against his will, and he hated having to live someone else's life. But not everything in the human world sucked. It was definitely more peaceful than the Zone.

"I think I just hate being alive as someone I'm not," Phantom said.

Tucker softened. Phantom wished he didn't. Ghosts rarely showed sympathy to each other, and the way Tucker looked at him was closer to pity. Phantom averted his eyes and busied himself with Danny's school supplies.

"Well," Tucker said, "I can't imagine what you're going through, but it sounds like a lot. I know you're not Danny...but that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Phantom looked up in surprise and found Tucker smiling at him timidly. He hadn't thought about how lonely he had gotten since getting stuck inside Danny's body. He missed his friends from the Ghost Zone, and Tucker missed Danny. Maybe befriending each other could fill a hole in both their hearts.

Then he saw the doorway behind Tucker and faltered. There stood a girl with a black ponytail wearing black clothes, like funeral attire, and staring between the two with a look bordering on betrayal.

Tucker followed his gaze and froze at the sight of her. "Sam!" he called out, but Sam had turned away and was walking rapidly down the hallway. He glanced back at Phantom, but Phantom had shifted his focus back to Danny's schoolthings. Tucker hesitated for one second before dashing out the classroom after Sam.

Phantom tried not to feel hurt. He knew Sam felt guilty for inadvertently causing the whole switch between him and Danny. He just wished she didn't act like it was his fault. He looked around the classroom and found himself alone...aside from one other student.

As soon as Phantom caught him staring, the redheaded boy quickly looked away and pretended to pack away his things. All he succeeded in doing was drop his pencil, and he cursed and dropped on his knees to pick it up from where it had rolled away on the floor.

Phantom recognized the boy. He was the only other human besides Tucker and Sam who knew about him because he was there during Danny's ghost fight. Wesley, he'd heard the teacher call him. This was not the first time Phantom found Wesley watching him, yet the human never approached him or said anything. It was unnerving.

Phantom walked toward Wesley just in time for the boy to stand up and come face to face with Phantom. Wesley squeaked and jumped back, dropping his pencil again.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," Phantom said.

Wesley leaned awkwardly against the desk behind him, trying and failing to look casual. "Why? Were you planning to?" he replied.

"No, so you don't have to be scared of me."

"I'm not scared," Wesley said, his voice a little too high. Phantom was unimpressed.

"I'm a ghost."

"You mean Danny is a ghost."

Phantom bit his lip. Right, he wasn't a ghost anymore. One would think he would get used to that idea after spending a week as a human.

He looked at the floor, where the dropped pencil sat. He bent down, picked it up, and offered it to Wesley. Wesley stiffened before warily accepting it from him. Yeah, he was definitely still scared of him.

Phantom held back a sigh and left the classroom, not looking back at Wesley. He wished he had one of his ghost friends to talk to. He turned his head to the side and inwardly groaned when he saw a familiar stocky figure approach...Dash.

Luckily for him, he was not the closest nerd in Dash's path. An unfortunate, scrawny boy with glasses backed away as Dash came near. Dash grabbed him by the arm before he could run, and Phantom winced in expectation of the beating Dash was about to deliver to the poor human.

The beating never came.

"Mikey!" Dash greeted in a--was that a friendly tone? "What are you so scared for? I just wanted to thank you for your help on our chemistry homework."

Phantom could tell from Mikey's befuddled expression that he wasn't the only one who found Dash's behavior odd. "Um...you're welcome?"

Dash grinned and patted Mikey's head. "Anyone ever tell you you're a great guy?"

Mikey was growing outright terrified of Dash's out-of-character action. "Did you hit your head? Aren't you going to stuff me inside a locker? Look, here's an empty locker right here!"

There was a violent twitch in the jock's face at the mention of locker-stuffing, but it quickly reverted to a grin as he said, "Of course not! I've realized my mistake. No more bullying from me."

Mikey still seemed wary, but he started to relax. "Really?"

Dash laughed heartily and slapped Mikey's back, causing the small nerd to stumble. "Oh, just go already. Wouldn't want to miss your next class, would you?"

Mikey sent one last confused look at Dash before fast-walking down the hallway. Everyone who was standing around and heard Dash's conversation was also staring in confusion, but Dash gave them all a bright smile before continuing on his way with an oddly cheery step. As he passed by Phantom, Phantom managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

His irises were gray.

Phantom thought that there was something familiar about the way he spoke, and the eyes only confirmed it.

He wondered if desiree had been reading his thoughts...because it looked like his wish just got granted.

Down a hallway, a student was taking out his anger on a vending machine. "Come on," he grumbled, kicking it. "I just want one soda!"

A shadow descended upon him, and he turned around frightfully to be faced with the infamous star quarterback. "D-Dash!" he greeted with wide eyes. Like everyone else in school, he knew Dash's short temper and his tendency to take it out with violence.

But Dash didn't seem angry in that moment. In fact, he was smiling, the expression strange on his usually sour face. "Hey, there, pal. Let me get that for you," he said and walked forward to the vending machine.

To anyone else watching, Dash used some subtle trick to get the machine to spew out a can. But to Phantom, who stood a distance away watching him inconspicuously, it was apparent that "Dash"'s trick was of a ghostly nature.

'Dash' held up the soda can and offered it to the student generously. "Here ya go! One free egg cream."

The teen raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, you okay, Dash? You're acting...weird."

"I'm acting nice," 'Dash' said, still wearing his warm smile. "No longer do you have to fear me as a bully, because I've put that life way behind."

"Wow, really?" he replied and accepted the soft drink tentatively.

"Of course!" 'Dash' spread out his arms eagerly and said to all the students milling around, "In fact, why bother with one drink? Free egg creams for everyone!"

He stuck his hand into the vending machine again and caused several cans to flow out. The move was so obviously ghost-powered, it amazed Phantom how inattentive humans were. All of them were too busy grabbing a soda cheerfully.

"I have no idea what an egg cream is, but thanks, Dash!" one jock said.

"No problem-o," 'Dash' replied with a grin and a wink, then lifted a can to his mouth for a sip.

Phantom decided that enough was enough. He had watched this ghost parade around in Dash's body for several periods, never approaching him because he had no idea what to say--Should he tell him about his situation? Would he even believe him? It didn't matter. If he didn't make a move now, the school day would be over, and the ghost might still stay inside the bully's body.

He made his way through the crowd gathered around the vending machine and walked up to the person wearing Dash's face. Once he got close enough, he whispered, "They don't have drinks like these in the Ghost Zone, do they?"

'Dash' choked on his soda. He hacked and thumped on his chest to expel the soft drink from his lungs. "Stupid human body," Phantom heard him mutter. Then he looked down at Phantom with a scowl that almost made him look like the regular Dash again. "Who are you?"

Phantom eyed the humans around them. They weren't paying any attention to them, but still... "Maybe we should talk somewhere more private," he said in a low voice.

The ghost in Dash's body grabbed him by the arm, then pulled both of them through a wall. Phantom stumbled as he let go. "Really? Using ghost powers in plain sight?"

The ghost waved Dash's hand carelessly. "Please. Even if anyone did see us, most humans don't even believe in ghosts."

"So it is you," Phantom said, "Sidney."

Sidney, because that indeed was him, narrowed Dash's eyes at him. "How do you know me? You can't be a ghost because I don't sense anyone overshadowing you."

"I am a ghost...or, I used to be." Phantom ran a hand through his hair. "Ugh, this is weird to explain, and I don't even know if you'll believe me, but...it's me. Phantom."

"Phantom? What makes you think I believe you?" He was watching him intently, no doubt wondering how a human could know not only his name but also his missing friend's name.

"Remember when you found out I was going to vandalize someone's lair and went after my ass for that because apparently that's bullying, but when you found out it was Aragon, you changed your mind and joined in with me? You specifically wrote "Aragon is a Mickey Mouse" in grafitti before we had to run away when his guards found us."

The gray eyes widened, and Sidney breathed, "Holy Ancients--Phantom?"

The next thing Phantom knew, he was being crushed in Dash's burly arms. Sidney had never been a physically strong ghost, but he sure as hell was possessing a physically strong human body.

"I can't believe it! Where have you been these past few days? No one's heard from you--I thought for sure you were toast!"

Phantom struggled in his bone-crushing embrace. "Human body," he wheezed. "Have to breathe."

Sidney sheepishly let go, and Phantom was able to take in gulps of air.

"But I don't get it," Sidney said, frowning. "How come I didn't sense you in there?"

Phantom bit his lip. "That's the part that's hard to explain. Somehow, I don't have any of my ectoplasm anymore, but I'm, well...stuck? I'm stuck inside this human body because, I guess...his soul sort of...left the same time my soul went in?"

Sidney tilted Dash's head and frowned. "What are you saying?"

Phantom sighed. "I'm saying I'm alive because I accidentally stole a human's body."

"That's..." Sidney threw Dash's arms out with wide eyes and exclaimed, "That's amazing!"

Phantom frowned. "No, it's not! I can't leave!"

"But, Phantom, you're alive! Do you have any idea what I would do to get a chance at being alive again?"

"But I'm living someone else's life!" He bunched the fabric of his shirt in a sweaty fist and said, "It's wrong. And confusing."

Sidney's enthusiasm died down a bit, and he said, "Right. The human world must be strange for someone who doesn't remember his human life."

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I'm a Zone-born ghost. I didn't have a human life."

"Right," Sidney said again, his eyes darting to the side. Phantom frowned. He was pretty sure that he formed in the Ghost Zone, but the way Sidney acted was almost as if he was hiding something.

Before he could ask anything, Sidney said, "I don't get it, though. How did this happen?"

Phantom decided to file away Sidney's odd behavior to think about at a later time. For now, he answered, "I think it had to do with the portal opening in the exact spot I was in."

"Wait, portal? What portal?"

He could tell from Sidney's (or rather Dash's) surprised expression that this was his first time hearing about the portal, and that confused Phantom. "How did you get here?" Phantom asked.

"Haunted relic," Sidney responded, puffing out Dash's chest. "I left behind a mirror in my lifetime that is apparently still around in this school. I just needed someone to touch it so I can overshadow them." His eyes sparkled, and he added eagerly, "But you're saying someone created a portal? Does that mean I can visit this world in person?"

"No!" Phantom exclaimed. Sidney stared at him. He quickly gulped and said, "I mean...it's being guarded by ghost hunters."

"Ghost hunters?" Sidney laughed. "Come on, those are always fake."

"These ones aren't," Phantom murmured. He absentmindedly rubbed his chest, where the Fenton couple had tried shooting him--only for all of them to discover that their weaponry didn't work on him while he was in Danny's body.

"Then I'll just pass through at night," Sidney replied. "Even ghost hunter humans have to sleep, right?"

That made sense, but Phantom still felt uneasy. Admittedly, it was a little hard to feel calm when the organ inside his chest (his heart) was beating more aggressively than usual. "I don't know. I still think it's a bad idea."

Sidney's gray eyes narrowed at him. "Why don't you want me to come?" He jabbed an accusing finger at Phantom and said, "You decided to make this place your haunt, didn't you?"

"What?" Phantom's eyes widened. "No! You know I don't care about owning a territory. And this school's already haunted, anyway."

"Then why don't you want me coming through?"

"I don't know!" Phantom cried, his heart threatening to burst through. Didn't he know? His head ached as he felt another one of Danny's memories flash before him, which really didn't feel like the right time for this. But he saw what humans thought of ghosts. Danny wasn't the only human afraid of specters. If one suddenly appeared...the humans would freak out. And this was such a calm world.

Sidney's eyes scrutinized him while he clutched his head and winced. Finally, Dash's body relaxed. "Okay," Sidney said. "I won't cross through, but only because you're my friend."

Phantom gave him a grateful smile, which wasn't as pleasant as it could have been without the emotional turmoil. "Thank you."

Sidney seemed disgruntled about his decision, but he straightened Dash's letterman jacket and smirked. "For now, I might as well enjoy my time in the human world while I'm in this Clyde's body."

Phantom had been looking at Sidney, but he shifted his attention to Dash--the body he was overshadowing. His skin had grown pale since that morning. The breaths coming through his nose were slower, or maybe Sidney forgot how to breathe again.

"You can't stay inside him for long," Phantom reminded. "Prolonged overshadowing isn't healthy."

"So?"

That question caught Phantom off guard. "So...if you stay in him for too long, he might die."

Dash's face was pulled into an expression of scorn. "He's a bully. Everyone in school is scared of him. Maybe he deserves to die."

Ba-dump, ba-dump, continued Phantom's heart. He gave a nervous chuckle and ignored the sweat forming on his neck. "You don't mean that, do you?"

But as he studied Sidney/Dash, he realized Sidney did mean it. Why should a ghost care about death? Sidney was already dead, so killing someone wasn't a big deal. And it did put a permanent end to Dash's bullying in this school.

But Phantom had seen grief in humans. He knew how big a deal death really was, at least to their kind.

Phantom gulped. "Get out of his body. You can't let him die."

"Since when do you care what happens to human bullies?"

"Since--" Phantom figured there was only one way to get Sidney to stop. He hated pulling this card with him, but...he pointed at Sidney accusingly and said, "Since hurting him makes you a bully!"

Sidney recoiled. For a second, Phantom thought he would leave then and there, but he recovered with a scowl and said, "This is a special circumstance. It's just like vandalizing Aragon's lair. Some bullies deserve to taste their own medicine."

Phantom threw his arms up. "Then give him a wedgie! No need for anyone to die!"

Sidney was unnervingly quiet for a moment. Then he tilted Dash's head and said, "Being alive has changed you, hasn't it?"

Phantom had no response. He didn't know what to say to that. He didn't have to, because just then someone said, "Dash! There you are!"

He turned his head and saw a group of students in matching letterman jackets approach. One of them patted Sidney/Dash and said, "What are you doing with loser Fenturd?"

"Now, now," Sidney said and wagged Dash's finger. "Fenturd is no loser."

"It's Fenton," Phantom corrected.

Sidney's gray eyes were unreadable as they gazed at Phantom. Then they turned to the group of popular kids, and he grinned widely before saying, "Never mind that! What did you want to tell me? We should go have some fun!"

Sidney did not stop overshadowing Dash. He followed the gang as they went to do whatever Dash's friends normally did for fun besides bully.

As soon as they left, Phantom released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He slid against the wall behind him until he was crouching on the floor. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. He looked at his stolen hands and saw that they were shaking.

He felt scared...of Sidney. Since when did he feel scared of his friends?

The same time he started caring about what happened to human bullies.

Since he became a human.

Phantom guessed there had been a lot of renovating in Casper High since Sidney was alive, but one place stayed the same: Sidney's locker. He followed the path he recognized from Sidney's lair in the Ghost Zone and found the metal cabinet sitting in the same spot as it did in the school's ghostly counterpart.

Since Danny's body was infuriatingly short, Phantom had to stand on tip toes to peek into the top locker through the slits on its door. It was hard to make out anything inside when it was shrouded in darkness, but he managed to see the glint of something reflective. Sidney's mirror. His ghostly relic.

Phantom had considered seeking the toilet ghost's help in stopping Sidney; if the ghost considered the school his haunt, then surely he would consider Sidney an intruder, right? But when he went to the haunted bathroom, he found Sidney--still in Dash's body--chatting him up. Apparently, being both ghosts who died from bullying meant they had a lot of stories to share.

With that solution out of the picture, there was only one option left: getting Sidney's mirror. As his doorway to the human world, he would do anything to keep it intact. Phantom might be able to convince him to leave Dash peacefully if he had it in his hands...if only he could figure out how to do that.

Oh, how much easier this job could have been if he kept his ghost powers in this stupid body. He would just phase his hand through the door and be done. But Phantom did not have his intangibility, and he did not have the key to Dash's locker, which meant he could only gaze at the mirror sadly and plan Dash's obituary in his head. 'Here lies Dash Baxter: died because he failed to follow the school's anti-bullying PSA.'

"What are you doing?" a voice spoke, causing Phantom to jump. He whipped around and saw a familiar redhead. "You again," Phantom said.

Wesley looked at the locker. He was doing a good job of pretending not to be uneased by Phantom. "That's Dash's new locker, right?" the human said.

"Yeah," Phantom confirmed. "Uh, I definitely wasn't doing anything weird, though."

"Did the not-weird thing have anything to do with getting Dash un-possessed?" At seeing Phantom staring, Wesley rolled his eyes and said, "Come on, everyone could tell that Dash has been acting super weird."

"Well...yes. He's overshadowed." Phantom nodded at the locker and explained, "There's an object in there that's connecting the ghost to the human plane. If I could get it, I could stop him from overshadowing Dash, but..." He shrugged. "I don't know how to get it."

Wesley studied the locker. "Could you move out of the way?" he said. Phantom complied. He watched as Wesley pulled out something small from his pocket...a hairclip? A pin?

Phantom couldn't quite see what Wesley was doing over his back, but he was pretty sure he jabbed the pin into the lock and jiggled it around carefully. After a while, the lock fell away, and Wesley stepped back to allow the door to swing forward.

Phantom raised an eyebrow at Wesley. Wesley smiled sheepishly and said, "I get locked out of my house a lot. Single dad isn't always home, and I forget my keys..."

Phantom didn't question him. He looked inside the locker. Behind the messy stacks of books was Sidney's mirror, smooth and shiny in spite of how many decades it had sat in there.

Phantom reached forward and pulled it off the locker wall. Just like in every other mirror, he saw Danny's face stare back at him. Not even a ghostly mirror changed that. Reflection Danny's shoulders slumped.

"So, we break the mirror?" Wesley said.

"What?" Phantom looked up at him. "No! At least, not unless it's as a last resort. I just need to scare Sid--the ghost until he leaves."

"But...it would be easier if you broke it now, right?"

"Well, yes," Phantom admitted. As Sidney's link to the human world, it seemed likely that he would disappear as soon as the link was severed. But he had a feeling breaking something so important would also sever the friendship between him and Sidney--or at least, more harshly than how it would be from him forcing Sidney to quit a human. "But this ghost is my friend. I'm sure I can talk to him."

"So...you're friends with a ghost who possesses people," Wesley said. There it was, the tension in the human's body that signified his wariness of Phantom.

"That--that doesn't mean I'm a fan of possession or anything," Phantom quickly said. "I'm not possessing Danny because I want to."

"I know," Wesley said with a sigh.

Phantom observed Wesley curiously, but the boy's expression was guarded. "Are you Danny's friend?" he asked.

Wesley...blushed? and looked away. "No. We just share a few classes. He probably doesn't even know me."

"Then why are you helping me?"

He shrugged. "My classmate is possessed, of course I would help."

"But everyone hates Dash."

"Then why are you helping him if the ghost is your friend?" Wesley countered.

Phantom turned his eyes away. They landed on the mirror in his hands, and he moved them farther to avoid looking at Danny's face. "None of your business," he uttered.

An awkward silence descended on them, finally broken by Wesley as he said, "If you wanna catch Dash, he's in the basketball team with me. We're practicing in the gym after school."

After school...would Dash still be alive by then? He supposed so. After all, Danny had overshadowed Phantom for almost an entire school day, and he was still (sadly) alive.

"One more question," Wesley said. "What's your name? Your real name, not Danny."

"I go by Phantom--or, uh, I went by Phantom."

Wesley snorted. "Seriously? You're a ghost and your name is Phantom?"

Phantom glared at him and crossed his arms. "I admit, I'm not the most creative with names."

"No shit," Wesley retorted. He was smiling. He...wasn't scared of Phantom?

Wesley cleared his throat and said, "Well, I go by Wes."

"Keen-o," Phantom said, then immediately wanted to ecto-blast himself because Wes was looking at him weird. Fuck Sidney and his infectious 50s slang.

"Yeah, real keen-o," Wes said, and Phantom could tell he was holding back laughter. The bell rang. "Well...I better go. I'll see you in basketball practice, I guess."

Phantom nodded. Wes closed the locker and re-locked it. He hesitated before asking, "Won't the ghost know the mirror's gone?"

Ah. He didn't think about that. "I'll figure something out," Phantom said. Wes nodded and left.

Phantom looked down at the mirror. Again, he saw Danny's face.

Would wes have been as kind to him if he was a ghost? he wondered. Or was he only nice to him because he was Danny? Wes knew he wasn't Danny, but still...

Phantom shook his head. Worry about Danny's relationships later. For now, he had to deal with Sidney's mirror. After a thought, he placed it inside Danny's backpack and carried it with him to class.

If he remembered correctly, his next class was with Tucker. He entered the classroom and found the dark-skinned boy sitting at his desk. Just like in geometry class, he and Tucker sat next to each other--a seating arrangement that was blessed for Danny, cursed for Phantom...but maybe not this time.

Tucker perked up when he saw him approach. "Phantom!" he whispered. "Look, I'm really sorry about ditching you this morning. I meant what I said about becoming friends."

Phantom tried to remain neutral as he sat down, but he couldn't help the twinge of bitterness in his chest. "I thought Sam didn't want you to hang with me."

Tucker winced. "I'm sorry about Sam, but I swear, she doesn't hate you. It's just...it hurts, seeing you in Danny's body and knowing you aren't him."

"Thanks," Phantom muttered.

"No, I mean--there's nothing bad about you, it's just--you know, it's kinda hard wrapping my head around all this, even if it's already been almost two weeks--"

"Tucker, shut up," Phantom said. Tucker shut up. Phantom turned to him and asked, "Do you have a ghost weapon with you?"

"Huh?"

"Danny's parents are ghost hunters, and you're his friends, so do you have a ghost weapon with you?"

Tucker looked guilty. "We don't have anything against ghosts. Heck, Sam normally loves ghosts--before, you know..."

"Just answer the question."

"...I have a lipstick laser. So does Sam."

Tucker was watching him like he expected Phantom to snap. Phantom didn't care. Heck, the weapons won't even work on him so long as he was in Danny's body. Instead of feeling angry, he felt relieved; he pulled out the mirror from his backpack and thrust it to Tucker.

Tucker looked down at the object. "What--"

"That mirror's haunted."

Tucker pushed the mirror away from him as if Phantom just said it was on fire. Phantom barely managed to catch it before it could shatter on the floor. He glared at Tucker and hissed, "What was that for?"

"Why are you giving me a haunted mirror?!"

Phantom shoved it toward Tucker again and said, "I need you to guard it for me until school finishes. If I keep it with me, the ghost will know."

Tucker stared at him in befuddlement. Admittedly, his request was pretty sudden from Tucker's point of view. But there was no time to explain--Sidney/Dash just entered the room.

Phantom quickly hid the mirror under Tucker's textbook. A part of him hoped it wouldn't crack under the textbook's weight (school textbooks were ridiculously heavy) but he doubted a ghost-powered object would be so easy to shatter. As soon as the mirror was out of sight, he sat at his desk, looking casual.

Tucker followed his gaze to Sidney, and understanding clicked. "I knew Dash was possessed," he whispered.

"Overshadowed," Phantom corrected. "But yes."

As Sidney made his way to Dash's desk, his eyes lingered on Phantom. He didn't give any attention to Tucker. That was good.

Phantom's foot tapped below his desk as the teacher droned on about some history subject. He glanced at the clock. There were only a few periods left until school ended and the basketball team's practice session began. All he had to do was wait.

Phantom decided that smell was his least favorite of the human senses. Sure, there were nice smells, like flowers, and freshly-cooked meals. But there is also the horrible reek of sweaty gym locker rooms.

Phantom had to hold his nose to stop himself from gagging. Why did humans need to have such strong olfactory senses?

"Remind me why we're here again?" Tucker said next to him. He must have been used to the smell because he was breathing fine. In one of his hands was Sidney's mirror, and in the other was a Fenton™-brand lipstick.

"Dash has after school practice," Phantom answered. His voice sounded funny with him holding his nose, but he wasn't enthusiastic to let go. He turned to Tucker and added, "You didn't have to come. I can handle the ghost myself."

"Dude, like it or not, you're still in my best friend's body. I don't want to be the one to explain to Danny that you wrecked his body by challenging a ghost on your own."

Phantom ignored the wave of sadness he felt at the mention of Danny. Tucker would only need to explain things if Danny ever returned. Also if Phantom allowed his body to get wrecked. He sighed but did not argue with Tucker.

"There you are," Wes said, approaching Phantom. He was wearing Casper High's red-and-white basketball uniform. Tucker raised an eyebrow at him.

"Tucker, Wes," Phantom introduced. "He knows about me and Danny."

"Aren't you that guy from our gym class?" Tucker said.

"And math class," Wes mumbled.

One of the basketball players in the locker room heard them and came over. "Hey Fenton, Foley, what are you two doing here?" He smirked and added, "You didn't come here for a gay make-out, did you?"

Tucker gagged and said, "God, no, Danny's my best friend. I wouldn't do that to his body."

The basketball player laughed. Wes's expression was...unreadable.

Phantom decided to step forward toward the basketball player. He recognized him as one of the jocks that always hung out with Dash, which must have made him Dash's friend. "Do you--" he began, then remembered this guy was a bully and seemed like he was about to make fun of his funny voice, so he let go of his nose (ignoring the assault on his senses) and said, "Do you know where Dash is?"

"Right here," Dash's voice came from behind, and Phantom turned around to see Sidney/Dash.

Sidney's eyes rove to the mirror in Tucker's hand. His expression darkened.

There was a clap that alerted everyone to the adult human that just entered the room. She was a woman, and Phantom was pretty sure this locker room was for boys, but no one seemed to care. She must have been the coach.

"All right, pansies, enough time getting ready," the coach barked. "Time for practice."

"Yes, Coach Tetslaff," a few boys replied. Most of them followed her command and left the room, but Sidney-as-Dash stayed behind. He went up to her and said, "Actually, coach? I feel kind of sick. Do you think I could sit this one out?" To accentuate his point, he faked a cough.

Tetslaff looked like she was about to argue, but she saw him and paused. The prolonged overshadowing was starting to show its effect on Dash's body. He was pale, sweaty, and had rugged breathing. After a moment's hesitation, Tetslaff grumbled, "Fine. But just this once." She caught Wes standing by the doorway and barked, "What are you waiting for, Weston? You don't look sick to me."

Wes gave Phantom one more glance before he and Tetslaff left the room. That left only Phantom, Tucker, and Sidney-as-Dash inside.

He could tell Sidney was angry at him for taking his relic, but the ghost kept himself calm and raised Dash's hand carefully. "Give me the mirror," he said.

"First, let go of Dash," Phantom ordered. He tried his best to display confidence. Never mind that he didn't have a ghost weapon like Tucker, nor did he know any fight moves that did not include ghost powers he didn't have.

Sidney must have known how powerless he was, but he didn't make a move. He narrowed his eyes and asked, "Why are you sticking up for someone who bullied you?"

"Actually, he has a point," Tucker said. "Why are we helping Dash?"

Phantom glared at Tucker. Sidney chose that moment to lunge forward, but before he could even go two steps, Tucker uncapped his lipstick and pointed it menacingly at him. "Don't try it, demon," he said.

"He's a ghost," Phantom whispered.

"Shush. I know."

Sidney froze at the sight of Tucker's ecto-weapon. It didn't look very intimidating, but it must have given off some ghostly energy to convince Sidney to stay in place. He glowered at Phantom. "What are you going to do?"

Phantom pressed his lips. "Tucker, give me the mirror," he said. Tucker complied. Phantom held the mirror above his head and warned, "I'll smash it."

"You wouldnt," Sidney growled.

"Wanna find out?" He swung the mirror toward the ground, but before he could let go, Sidney quickly cried, "Stop!"

Phantom held the mirror in place, but it was shaking--actually, his entire arms were shaking. "I don't want to do this," he said in a quavering voice. "I don't know why I'm doing this."

He could feel both other pairs of eyes in the room pierce into him. Sidney's gray eyes scrutinized him. After what felt like an eternity, the ghost calmly said, "Okay."

"Okay?" Tucker repeated, surprised.

Sidney stepped back and held up Dash's arms in surrender. "Okay, I'll leave."

"That's it? I kind of expected a ghost fight," Tucker said almost disappointedly, turning to Phantom. "I didn't even get to use my laser."

Sidney scoffed. "A fight would involve violence, which is bullying. I don't do that."

"Wow," Tucker said. "You seem like a pretty nice ghost, actually."

Phantom and Sidney held each other's gaze, and Phantom could tell they both felt a bit of betrayal at the other's action. "He is," Phantom said. "He just needs to let the human go."

Tucker's jolted and tightened his grip around his lipstick when a cloud of smoke escaped from Dash. The smoke was sucked into the mirror in Phantom's hands. As soon as it left, Dash's now-blue eyes rolled into his skull, and his body crumpled against a row of lockers.

Phantom looked down at the mirror and saw its surface glow green before it settled back into a regular mirror, reflecting Danny's face back at him.

A loud snore pulled his attention to Dash, who was lying on the floor in what looked like an uncomfortable position, mouth open and drooling. He snored again.

Tucker snickered. "At least he's alive."

Phantom turned away from Dash and moved toward the locker room's exit. Tucker followed him. "So that's it?" Tucker asked.

Phantom paid little attention to the basketball team practicing in the gym before he emerged into the hallways again. "That's it," he confirmed. "Dash is alive, and Sidney's back where he belongs."

"I still don't get why you helped Dash," Tucker said. "I would've thought ghosts don't care about life and death."

Phantom slowed in his tracks until he stopped. He hung his head. That's the thing isn't it? he thought. I'm not a ghost anymore.

"Just go home, Tucker," he murmured.

Tucker lingered by his side for a second longer, but he must have been able to sense that Phantom needed some time alone, because he evetually left. His footsteps echoed across the empty hallways as he made his way to the school's exit.

That left Phantom alone with Sidney's mirror. He let his lungs expand--a feeling he was starting to get used to and was strangely calming. Then he walked toward Danny's locker.

There was no way he was placing the mirror back in Dash's locker, of course. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sidney to keep his word, but who knew what Dash might do to the relic in a moment of anger (of which he had plenty). So instead, he opened Danny's locker and hung the mirror inside.

Rather than close the door and leave, he kept it open and gazed at the mirror's surface. With his shadow blocking the locker's interior, and humans' poor ability to see in the dark, he could almost imagine himself staring back instead of Danny.

"I'm sorry, Sidney," he said to the mirror. "I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't let you hurt someone."

The mirror stayed quiet. Phantom sighed and leaned against the locker door he was holding. "Being a human is so confusing. I want to be back at the Ghost Zone, with you and the others. I never asked to be here."

There was another moment of silence, and then the mirror glowed. He watched as a fog appeared on its surface and swirled before solidifying into Sidney's face--small and geeky, way different from the one he overshadowed.

"You really can't leave?" Sidney asked.

Phantom didn't admit how much joy he felt at seeing a familiar face. "If I can leave, I would have done so ten days ago."

Sidney looked remorseful. "Right. I didn't think about how tough it would be for someone to return to the human world without any memories of it."

There he went again. His wording implied that Phantom had been alive before. Phantom frowned. "Why do you keep talking like I'm a death-formed ghost?"

Sidney hesitated. He seemed to pick his next words carefully. "You say you're a Zone-born ghost, but do you even have parents?"

"They moved on."

"Who has a core child unless they plan on sticking around?"

Phantom was starting to get irritated. "I don't know, maybe they finished their business sooner than expected."

"But no one knows your parents, if they really are ghosts. And you know how fast news spread in the Ghost Zone. Any ghost deciding to have a core child would definitely have counted as news."

"So, what? You think I died and forgot about it?"

"It's not unheard of. Ghosts who had especially violent deaths often forget their lives at first." Sidney shrugged and admitted, "Maybe I'm wrong and you really are Zone-born. But I find it a little convenient that you managed to learn human processes quickly enough to keep yourself alive for ten days."

Phantom didn't know how to respond to that. True, sometimes he did things in the human world that felt familiar in a way, but he always assumed it was due to him gaining Danny's memories. "If all that you said is true, why wait to tell me now?"

"You know why," Sidney said, his expression troubled. "Ghosts with violent deaths..."

"...are always violent themselves," Phantom completed. Sidney bit his lip and nodded. Phantom glared at the chemistry book in the locker and said, "But you don't think I could turn out like that, do you?"

"Of course not. That's why I'm telling you now. Because--"

"Because I'm a human now," Phantom murmured.

"...I was going to say it's because I got to know you better."

Phantom's eyes didn't meet the mirror. After a moment, Sidney sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to burden you with more identity crises than you already have. If you ever want to talk, at least I'm here to listen."

Phantom glanced up. "You mean we're still friends?"

Sidney looked almost offended as he said, "Of course we're still friends! What do you take me for?"

Phantom smiled, but his expression turned into uncertainty as he pointed out, "But I touched your relic and drove you out of a human."

Sidney grumbled, "To be frank, I still don't forgive you for that. But at least I understand why you did it."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're a human now."

Before Phantom could know how to react to that, he heard footsteps echo his way. He turned away from the locker to see Wes jogging toward him. When he looked back at the mirror, Sidney's face was gone, dissolved back into mist before it disappeared.

"You did it!" Wes was saying as he approached grinning. "Dash woke up after practice. He doesn't remember anything from the time he was possessed. Everyone is assuming he had a really rough fever that made him delusional." He caught Phantom's somber expression, and his smile fell. "Is everything okay?"

Phantom closed the locker door quietly. "I'm fine," he said, though he didn't feel it. "The ghost is back in the Ghost Zone."

"The Ghost Zone?" Wes echoed. Phantom turned his head to look at him, and any amusement Wes felt at the silly name vanished. He shifted his foot. "Sorry. I guess it must have been tough, facing off your friend."

Phantom's hand was still on the locker door. The metal was cool against his fleshy skin. "It's okay. We talked it out," he said.

Wes fidgeted with his hands. "Well," he began shyly, "if you want any human friends, I'm always free."

The tips of Wes's ears had gone pink. Phantom narrowed his eyes. He was beginning to recognize this human's strange behavior around Phantom. It was the same way Ember sometimes got around Skulker, not that he ever understood her infatuation.

He tilted his head and asked, "You have a crush on Danny, don't you?"

Wes choked. His face turned as red as the accents of his basketball uniform as he stammered, "W-what? A crush? No! That--that's ridiculous!"

Phantom didn't bother focusing on how flustered Wes was. Instead, he said sadly, "You know I'm not him, right?"

Wes calmed down, and he looked down at his feet sorrowfully. "I know."

Phantom turned his face away. Not for the first time, he wished he knew where Danny was. The silence between him and Wes grew heavy.

Phantom cleared his throat. "Well, if you do find Danny attractive, at least I know the body I'm in is hot."

Wes snorted, then dissolved into laughter. Phantom smiled. The mood lifted just a little bit.

Once his laughter died down, Wes rubbed his neck and said, "Want to walk home together? Or...I guess to Danny's home, in your case."

Phantom's smile fell. "You don't have to be close to me just because you like Danny."

"Dude, I've had more conversations with you in one day than I had with Danny in my life," Wes said, then immediately blushed and added, "Not that that means I'm crushing on you or anything...but we're friends, aren't we?"

Phantom felt a flutter of warmth at that, but it was small compared to his overall negative feelings left over from his confrontation with Sidney. "We are," he told Wes, "and thank you...but if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for now."

Wes lingered in the edge of his vision before he finally said, "All right. I'll see you tomorrow, then." He turned and reluctantly walked away.

Phantom was left alone in an empty school. He leaned against a row of lockers and closed his eyes. Today should have been a good day. He met friends, both new and old. So why did he feel less than happy?

"Danny! Where have you been?" Jazz said as soon as he stepped foot indoors. She was crossing her arms and glaring at him.

Phantom ignored her in favor of looking around the otherwise unoccupied living room. "Where are Mom and Dad?" he asked.

"Out for groceries," Jazz answered impatiently. "What about you? If you wanted to stay after school, you could have called me!"

"Oh," Phantom said, feeling guilty for having forgotten about Danny's sister. She was the nicest Fenton to him, even if she didn't believe the truth about his identity. He reached a hand into his pocket and found it empty. "Actually, I think I forgot my phone at home."

Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something incomprehensible. "Just--don't make me worry next time, okay? I had to learn from Sam that you were busy with something."

"Sam?" Phantom said, surprised. The two of them still hadn't spoken since the day Danny left. Maybe Tucker told her to tell Jazz.

Jazz shrugged and moved toward her room upstairs. "There's leftovers in the kitchen. You can heat them yourselves."

"Sure," Phantom said, fairly certain he had learned how to use a microwave correctly. Once Jazz left, he made his way to the kitchen. But he didn't have an appetite at the moment.

Sure, he was hungry. But his mind dwelled too much on Sidney and what he had told him, so he doubted he had the energy in him to make himself a meal. Instead, he went to the door in the back that led downstairs--to the Fentons' underground laboratory.

Phantom opened the door and stood at the edge of the stairs. It seemed to lead into nothing but darkness, but he could smell the whiff of sterilized ectoplasm and metal.

He hadn't been down in the lab since he first woke up there in Danny's body. Most of the time, the Fenton couple was there, and they intimidated him too much. But now they were outside.

Phantom gulped and descended the stairs.

The portal was right where he remembered it. He didn't have a chance to get a good look at it last time, having been too busy freaking out over his situation, but he vaguely recalled a glowing green hole in the wall. The hole was now covered by yellow-and-black blast doors, but he was certain it was the same portal.

There were several tables across the lab with various half-assembled and fully-assembled weapons on them. Phantom tried not to freeze up when he passed by them. At least he didn't find any dissected ghost remains.

He walked up to the portal and stopped. On the other side of those doors was his home...his old friends, Sidney included...and maybe even the real Danny. He could step through and be back home, but he knew he wouldn't be able to survive. Ghosts could be a vicious bunch if they needed to be, and he didn't have any ghost powers to defend himself.

He could only hope Danny was faring okay.

Phantom turned to head upstairs, but he paused in his tracks and winced as yet another memory assaulted him. But...something felt different about this one.

He felt someone's hand holding his. It was large, covering his completely--or maybe his hands were small. There was the sharp smell of antiseptic and the steady beating of a heart monitor.

The person lying in the bed in front of him was horrible to look at. His skin was covered with green blisters that almost seemed to glow. He gripped the hand holding his own and hid behind the standing person's body, trying to form a barrier between himself and the hospital bed.

The human holding his hand--a woman, he remembered--said something muddled through his memory and urged him forward to the person in the bed. He didn't want to get close. The bed towered above his small form, but the woman carried him and set him down on the bed next to the prone, blistered body.

The prostrate person--he was hesitant to call him a human--was breathing ruggedly. The green bumps on his skin seemed to glow with every breath he took. His eyes were closed, but as he watched with terror, they opened to reveal completely red, glowing eyes.

The last thing he remembered was crying and attempting to flee--then the memory ended, and Phantom was thrust back into the Fentons' lab.

Phantom gasped and fell onto the ground. Sweat poured out his body, and he shivered. Those red eyes were still lingering in his vision when he heard hurried footsteps descend the stairs.

"Danny? What are you doing down there?" Jazz's voice came.

Her red hair and concerned teal eyes appeared in his sight as she tried to help him up. Phantom weakly slapped her hands away and said, "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Jazz argued.

True, he wasn't fine. But he didn't want to talk about it, least of all with Jazz, and he knew she would prod. He grumbled again, "I'm fine. I don't need your help."

He tried to stand up and immediately fell back down. Jazz raised her eyebrows at him. He sighed and accepted her help.

He leaned against her, shaking all the way, as she carried them up the stairs and back into the kitchen. She kept her mouth shut. Phantom was grateful for that.

She set him down on the nearest chair. He leaned his fists against his lap and breathed.

"Do you--"

"I don't want to talk," Phantom answered before she could finish.

Jazz reluctantly left him alone. He had to admit, Danny's sister wasn't a bad human.

Phantom finally got his breathing down, though his heart still thumped against his chest. What was that? None of Danny's memories he experienced had ever left him so shaken.

He thought back to what Sidney told him. He had been alive before, but he had forgotten all about his life. Now...

Phantom closed his eyes and gulped.

He had experienced a memory, but it wasn't Danny's.

#phic phight #danny phantom #au #fic #fanfiction #danny fenton #wes weston #tucker foley #sam manson #sidney poindexter #writing #fanfic #mine #separate fenton and phantom au #long fic

26 notes · View notes