#especially when they scream about tearing him apart molecule by molecule

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 81

Danny is on the run.

From both his parents/GIW and supporters of the previous king. They do not want a child as the new king.

So Danny is on the run.

Going from town to town. In each and every town he ends up befriending homeless kids, those in bad homes and everything in between. He uses his resources as king of the realm to help as much as he can.

He can’t every stay for long. It’s only a matter of time until one of the group finds him. Especially since he has to open a portal to get the items to help the others.

It’s in Gotham when his parents end up tracking him down. Specifically while in red hood’s territory.

[mysticshadows13]

Ok. This is for the @dp-crossover-angst-week-event . July 7th: GIW experiments

I def went off course, but y'know what, I had fun.

TW/CW: references to torture, electrocution,

Day 1: Experiment

Danny groans as he tugs at the metal around his wrists. He tries to go intangible and screams as he's shocked, panting.

Doors open from to the right and muffled screams fill the room. Danny pauses from trying to escape and watches as the Scientists (can you hear the sarcasm) roll in another gurney. There's a girl on it and she's glaring around as she tries to escape too.

He reaches out with his Core to calm her down, meet her Core and…Danny's eyes widen. He can't feel her Core. He was annoyed when it was just him, but now that they've gone and brought someone else to experiment on, all bets are off. Danny closes his eyes and sinks into his Core, they're about to find out why no one messes with Phantom.

Kitty struggles against the metal, twisting and turning and trying to escape. She tries to go through the gurney and screams as it shocks her, again and again and she can't keep control anymore. Her eyes catch on another mutant across the room and narrows her eyes. Professor X hadn't mentioned another mutant already being caught, but these government people had just appeared. They didn't even have a good name: Guys in White, couldn't they have been more imaginative? Kitty looks over the boy, noting his white hair, black suit, and…there's liquid dripping down his side.

Jean, another mutant is here. He's hurt, bad, and the restraints are tailored to me. Move up the timetable.

Understood. Storm and I are on the way.

She tries to signal to the boy that everything will be fine. He opens his eyes, looking at…through her, and his eyes are toxic, bright, neon green. They're glowing, and the glow is flowing from his eyes, covering his body and Kitty feels terror fall over her.

Danny opens his eyes, a green haze covering his vision. He smiles, wide, and glances at his restraints, firing a beam from his eyes. It slices through the metal easily, slices through the table and the floor. He floats, ignoring the screams of the Guys in White. Something fires at him, hitting him and he fires back, not paying any attention to whether he hit or not (Danny doesn't miss.)

Danny floats over the girl, and he claws apart the restraints, nodding at her, then the door. The girl slips off, looking at him, then behind him, and she reaches out, grabbing him and sinking below the ground to avoid the firing guns.

“We should get out of here!” The girl says, and Danny blinks, his vision turning normal. He grabs her, and flies out, not sure which one of them is making sure they don't hit the walls.

Kitty keeps them both intangible, as the boy flies them outside. Just as they pass actually outside, Kitty notices the ground is rushing up way too fast. She glances up and sees the boys eyes slipping closed.

Jean! Storm! We're outside and falling, help!

“It looks like you could use some assistance.” Storm says, the wind catching and slowing their descent.

“Thanks, Storm! Jean, can you look at him, he's hurt!” Kitty says as they land.

“I will, once we're in the jet. Did you see anyone else there?” Jean asks, looking the boy over.

“No, just him. I hope no one else is there, it hurt!” Kitty says, shivering as Storm pulls her close.

“You're getting checked out too, Kitty.”

“You don't want to dissect me, right? Or tear me apart molecule by molecule?” A voice cuts through. They turn to the boy.

“Of course not! We would never do that!” Jean says, frowning.

“Hello there. My name is Storm, she's Jean, and this is Kitty.” Storm says, nodding.

“I owe you a thank you.” Kitty says. “You saved me.”

“Couldn't let the GIW hurt anyone else. Especially since it's my fault they went after you.” He sits up, stretching, and Kitty sees now that the suit is torn up and he's covered in marks. “Names Danny Phantom.”

“Mr. Phantom, may I see your wounds? I would like to take care of them. Patch them up.” Jean says, eyeing the cuts with concern.

“What, these? Barely a scratch, they're already healing, don't worry.” Phantom says. “And please, just Phantom. Or Danny.”

“What powers do you have, Danny?” Kitty asks. “I can go intangible!” Kitty shows off by waving a hand through the box next to her, wincing as her other hand spasms.

“I control the weather.” Storm says, a peal of thunder following her words. Danny laughs, clapping. “Or more accurately, I can manipulate the weather.”

“I'm telepathic and telekinetic.” Jean says. Danny shifts away from her. “I don't read minds without permission, of course.”

“Good. You wouldn't like what's in here anyway.” Danny pauses. “What's telekinetic?”

“I can move things with my mind.” Jean says, waving a hand. A bottle of water floats in, stopping in front of Danny. “Water?”

“Thank you. I haven't had a drink in…days, at least. Maybe longer.” Danny grabs it, opening it up and taking a drink. “Ugh, room temp.” He points a finger at the water, something blue firing out and hitting the bottle, and he takes another drink. “Ah, much better.” Danny sighs.

“Wait, days. How long were you there?” Storm asks. “Do you have a safe place to go?”

“Um. What day is it? Or month?”

“It's July 7th.” Kitty answers.

“Huh. I guess it's been a little over a month since they've captured me, then. As far as a safe place…once I heal, sure.” Danny frowns at Kitty. “I see why they took you, if you can go intangible. They didn't realize you're alive.”

“Phantom, are you saying you're not alive?” Jean asks.

“Is that why you're called Phantom?” Kitty asks.

“Professor X, we're on our way. Phantom, would you like to come with us?” Storm offers.

“To where?”

“Professor X is the headmaster of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. A safe place for mutants to come and grow into their powers.” Jean explains.

“I'm not a mutant.” Danny says. “But if he's okay with me coming…yeah, I'll go.”

[wordstro]

omg okay so here are yeosang’s and wooyoung’s more indepth backstories in the hero/villain au because in between working on my wips I���ve been thinking about this universe as a whole a LOT lol. this also includes everyone else's powers (the backstories aren't as in depth yet) as well just a little worldbuilding establishment:

yeosang’s powers are persuasion. he was always a quiet, shy boy who liked to keep to himself. he wasn’t always quiet though, not until the day he activated his powers. when he was 13 years old, he’d been upset about something he didn’t even remember, that’s how insignificant it was, and he screamed and shouted at his parents. his mother sighed, and his father crossed his arms over his chest and said stop being a brat and tell us what happened. ironically, yeosang hated being told what to do. he stomped his foot in anger and shouted, “leave me alone! go away!”

then he turned and stomped up the stairs and slammed the door shut. when he emerged from his room hours later and tiptoed to the kitchen in search of food. the apartment was eerily quiet, the tv still running and the lights still on. he’d gone to sleep peacefully that night, unknowing that his parents would never return.

to this day he did not know where they were.

he’d lashed out a boy prodding at him during gym class, still reeling from his parent’s abandonment. he remembered the boy’s insult. you’re so useless and ugly. no wonder your parents left you, he’d spat. yeosang saw red. he hissed, “go jump off a bridge, asshole.” the boy’s eyes went blank and he turned away. yeosang stared after him in confusion but the bell rang and he was herded back to the school. the next day he learned that the boy jumped off the highway bridge still dressed in his gym uniform.

that’s when yeosang knew what he could do.

he did not speak and kept to himself since then, festering in guilt, always on the look out for his parents. in high school, he met a boy with a big smile on his face and mischief in his eyes. he witnessed one of yeosang’s bouts of anger, when he cornered some bully behind the school where the CCTVs were broken and kids came to smoke and skip class and he told him to forget about his victims and leave them alone, to focus on his grades and family and stop bullying innocent people. he’d owed one of the bully’s victims for her help with keeping him from failing math. jung wooyoung witnessed it all. the boy’s blank eyes and listless nod, yeosang’s test afterwards, everything. before yeosang could persuade wooyoung to forget, wooyoung flicked a finger and blue flames sparked to life at the tip of his fingers.

yeosang suppressed the relief and a sudden onslaught of tears at the sight, the knowledge that he was not alone anymore.

wooyoung used it to light his cigarette and wordlessly offered it to yeosang. yeosang grimaced.

i hate smoking, he’d said. me too, wooyoung replied with a grin, tossing the cigarette to the ground and grinding it with his heel. he swung his arms over yeosang’s shoulder and the rest was history.

yeosang spoke again and wooyoung helped him control his powers and outbursts. yeosang promised he would follow wooyoung to the ends of the earth. and he did, to the hero-villain alliance where he acted as a villain, to the underground meetings, to the coup, to his fights with a team he’d come to love just as strongly as he loved wooyoung. he followed wooyoung through everything and he would do it again and again. still, why did he feel so guilty? why did he feel so much regret?

wooyoung can control fire. his backstory was nothing horrifying. it was kind even compared to the others. he’d simply lost control one day, overwhelmed by emotions as teenagers are, and he burned down his house with his family still in it. he’d left severe burns on his mother and brother, but no one died. when the police came to investigate, his parents covered for him.

his mother reminded him that she loved him and stroked the tears from his face, reminded him that he’d made a mistake and she forgave him for it.

his brother said he forgave him too, but the fear in his eyes remained and wooyoung saw it. he worked to remove it but he saw it. it stayed with him. the fear changed him. not death nor hatred, just the way people looked at him when they found out what he could do, even when he played a hero.

when he and yeosang joined the hero-villain alliance, he’d basked in the kindness in their eyes and though he told himself that he would stop being soft, that he only cared for the people he cared for and that’s it, just his parents who were too old and exhausted and his brother who feared him and yeosang, the team wormed their way into his heart. he loved them. he really did.

they taught him to embrace his softness. they taught him to care. he’d been chosen as a hero by management. but he saw the injustice done to his kind. he despised the fear the public felt towards his villain counterparts, his best friends. it angered him.

because it wasn’t fucking fair. though wooyoung was soft he never agreed with peaceful protests. he believed in fighting and sacrificing for the greater good. peaceful protests rarely changed anything. the ends justified the means. always. so he staged a coup. he had to. for his people. for the world. for the greater good. he betrayed the people he loved most in the world and he would do it over and over again. for the greater good.

jongho’s powers are invulnerability/absolute durability. he has indestructible skin. it’s said he could withstand a nuclear bomb, but no one lets him try it no matter how many times jongho asks. jongho likes danger. it’s the only thing that keeps him entertained and gets him through the numbness he feels every single day. they made him a villain and jongho wondered if they knew that he feigned his optimism. he wondered if they knew how much he despised himself. he wondered if they knew that he used to beat people up just to feel something.

san’s power is intangibility. he can phase through objects by vibrating his molecules to pass through objects. recently he learned to phase his body parts so when someone tries to attack him, they fly straight through him. he tries to learn the science behind it but frankly he doesn’t care. jongho asked once if he could make his molecules turn into a nuclear beam, eyes alight with hope. san would always scold him, but he could see the sincerity in jongho’s eyes. san joined the hero-villain alliance last, plucked from jail for petty theft and given a second chance.

he loved too deeply, and he grew attached too quickly. it was a fatal flaw of his.

so when they betrayed him, yeosang and wooyoung especially, he grew so angry, he was terrified of the force of it. he never knew he could hold so much resentment, but he figures that if he could hold so much love, he could hold just as much hatred too. he fought with a vengeance with anger, but more than anything, with deep, deep hurt.

mingi’s power is light manipulation. he can manipulate light, blind people, create burning heat from it, and even create entire illusions by fracturing light particles. he’d blinded people with his power and he casted an illusion of himself, forever living in his hometown, suffering the consequences of a crime he should have been, and he fled. he’d met yunho on the streets before the hero-villain alliance and they quickly became best friends, brothers even.

hongjoong’s power is dimensional storage. he can store objects and people away for safekeeping. he’s been told that if he trained hard enough, long enough, he could advance his skills. he could manipulate space itself, erase people from existence, create wormholes and paradoxes, warp reality. it would be hard for him.

wooyoung spoke of the possibilities with twinkling eyes.

hongjoong couldn’t admit that his powers terrified him. he still couldn’t bury the guilt of what he did when he couldn’t control his powers. he still didn’t know which dimension he placed his hometown in, whether they were still alive, and it’s nearing twenty years since the accident.

that’s why hongjoong advocated for peace, for treaties and regulations. he hoped for the best in people because that’s all that kept him going. he didn't want to fight. he advocated for his team every single day. he loved them.

that’s why he ignored the signs that wooyoung was up to something until it was too late. every day since then he fought to bring them back, to right his shortcomings.

bonus:

technically this ateez hero/villain au takes place in the same timeline as the astro hero/villain au i have on here on AO3. so the juxtaposition between how fluffy and how much of a fun time astro/the ioi unit/etc are having vs ateez shows how much public opinion of people with powers changed over such a short period of time. especially as super powered people began emerging in droves.

astro’s stories take place when people with superpowers just started emerging. and villains and heroes hated each other but it wasn’t ever as serious as it now is. superheroes were a commodity. no one was extremely afraid of ppl with powers to the point of murder and villains only stole for the paycheck. that’s why they were all best friends. but as the government began to start regulating people with superpowers and ppl began to protest their existence, more government-run academies opened up and all of astro joined the hero-villain alliance as a team. that’s when they joined the biochemical weapons sector. at first it was fine - they didn’t work out on the field often but they hoped with their research they could help their kind and learn more abt themselves. until the experimentation got worse, more invasive, forced. eunwoo was the sole survivor. he lost his shit, but they managed to contain him at a high security facility. when jongho broke him out, eunwoo swore he would avenge them.

[writingfromkitchenator]

Logan ~ Fate

Alphabet Challenge Masterlist (700 Followers)

Masterlist

Sequel to To Break Reality

Words: 1,939

Warnings: Neutral Reader, smidge of fluff, supportive Logan, mentions of fight, loss of control, angst

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You’d fit it so easily with the X-Men, had taken it in your stride even though you weren’t raised in this world.  It was such a relief to find others with special skills and talents, that they could also understand your own, and you felt more at home than you ever had.

Charles quickly offered a teaching position, something you’d been studying before everything had gone wrong in your life, and you took it gratefully, although not without some further study of your own.  This world was still slightly different from your own after all.

He also offered you private lessons, to help learn more about your own ability, this reality split, and apart from what you’d already taught yourself, you started to be able to focus on it more, without the headaches.

Logan had also taken you under his wing, neither of you could explain it, but something about when you got to be together, it felt right.  He was a little protective, especially after you told him about what had happened to you with your family, but he kept it in check most of the time.

It was three months on when he’d asked to kiss you, and while shy and nervous, you had agreed. From that moment on, the two of you were practically inseparable though, and you had a feeling that a few of the senior X-Men around were glad to see it.

After six months, the two of you more or less shared a room together, and you tried to get out of the mansion at least once a week to have some proper time together.  It was a little strange, seeing the world and just how normal everyone else seemed, but Logan always made sure you were as comfortable as possible.

Soon, a year had flown by and you were just starting to think of what sort of future you could build here when you noticed the first problem.

You were teaching, and while your power was within your control most of the time, there was still the odd happening that seemed to appear, although now they just seemed to be of anywhere and everywhere.  This particular one stopped you mid sentence, the children staring at you, some following your gaze across the room, wondering what had suddenly distracted you.

The world beyond wasn’t of any sort of particular interest, there wasn’t even anyone around to draw your attention.  No, it was the barrier between that had stopped you.

Approaching with caution, aware of a lot of stares on your back, you carefully raised your hand to the barrier and the long silvery crack that seemed to running along it.

Your fingers ran over it, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary apart from what you could see. It was as you dropped your hand away though, that you quickly realised how wrong that assumption was.

It was like a sledgehammer hitting your chest, sending you flying backwards, the children screaming.  You watched through fear filled eyes as the barrier began to shatter.

"Everybody get out!"  You barely remembered screaming it, focusing on your power to try and stop the shattering, not even wanting to think about the consequences of what this happening could do.

Your ability strained more than what it ever had before, hurting even more as you struggled to suck in air.

The others hurried into the room, drawn by the screaming children and Charles's warning.  Quickly, they stopped Logan going to you, the room around you beginning to flicker and shake.

You weren't sure why, but as you barely held the barrier together, stopping two worlds becoming one, you couldn't help but feel like something or someone was testing you.

Finally, the barrier sealed and disappeared, allowing you to collapse, blood dripping from your nose. Logan was quickly there, but you only held onto consciousness for a moment longer.

There was no way of explaining things when you awoke, because you had no answer.  You all instead just hoped it wouldn't happen again.

It was another six months before it happened again.  Then four. Then three.  A month.  Each time you were just left feeling like you were less prepared then the last, and that it was somehow your fault.

"We'll get this sorted," Logan said quietly to you one night in bed together when you voiced your concerns.  "This isn't your fault Y/N.  We're all working to figure this out for you.”

"I'm the only one with that gift Logan.”

“That we know of.  There could be many explanations.”

You sighed, exhausted, curling up tightly into him, remaining unsettled.

Then more started appearing, taking everyone by surprise.  You couldn’t keep up, you were sure that even if you were stronger, you still wouldn’t be able to.  It scared you that this was happening.

“The world is shattering because I don’t belong here,” You broke down one night.  “This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t try and come through.”

Logan pulled you into his arms as you wept, holding you close.  “We don’t know what’s going on, but I promise, with all of my heart Y/N, this isn’t your fault.”

Then things started to break through the barriers, the peace you had found here was shattered as everyone tried to find someone to blame, no matter how many times you all turned up to save the day.  You barely slept anymore, and each barrier seemed to get harder and harder to close.

Then, it all went seriously wrong.

The largest opening yet had appeared and shattered, creatures pouring through, and as the others fought around you, protecting you, you tried to close it once again.

Your hands were shaking, blood dripping from your nose as your head throbbed from the effort. Something about this one was different.

Then, you felt it, something latching onto your power, making your whole body shudder, but you were too weak, too exhausted to put up any sort of fight.

Instead of closing, the barrier began to shatter further.

You’d never felt so helpless before, even as the others called to you, trying to understand what was going on, but the sensation of being controlled was too much.  Your mind shut down, your body going limp as whatever it was controlled you, and once it was done, it threw you aside like a rag doll.

The damage was done, more of the other world was pouring through.

Logan fought his way over to you, you could just make him out through blurred vision, your eyes filled with tears, and you felt completely unable to move.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice broke as he reached you, his eyes concerned as he took your hand, something you could barely feel. “We're not going to make it.”

“Don’t you think like that,” He said, giving your hand a squeeze.  “Don’t you dare give up Y/N.  You didn’t to get here so you aren’t to now to fix your home.”

It felt strange to hear him say it, but you knew he was right, only, you didn’t currently have anything left.  How were you meant to protect everything you knew and cared about when you had nothing left?

Cold laughter got all your attentions, Logan supporting you to get you seated at least, your body leaning heavily against his.  

A tall figure came through the shattered barrier.  You couldn’t really focus on him, it was like he was made from the shattered pieces himself, each part of him reflecting something different, but you knew that he was the one that taken over you.

“All you had to do was stay where you were and I would’ve never known of you,” His voice rang out clear.  “But now, you’ve made this all too easy.  I can hop between any worlds I wish and do whatever I wish.”

You shuddered, not wanting to believe it, but the power you could feel from him telling you everything you needed to know.

“Fate is such a fickle thing,” He continued, drawing closer. “And you set yours the moment you broke through here.  You weakened the barrier between the world’s, started the first pieces in motion, and I thank you for it.”

A sob left you, your chest aching, knowing he was right.

“Don’t go blaming your psychotic nature on others pal,” Logan growled, still holding you tightly.  “The only one that’s at fault is you.  I’m going to give you one warning to back off.”

The laughter sent a chill through you and you gripped Logan as tightly as you could.  “And what is it that you think you can do to me?”

Logan’s claws slid from his free hand, a growl rumbling through his chest, making you grip him harder.  “Don’t.”

He continued to approach.  “See, I have an opportunity here, one I intend to take seeing as they are just so weak.”

Logan let you go carefully, and you were a little stunned you could stay up by yourself, but your grip was still far to weak to stop him from stepping in front of you protectively.

“You’re going to have to go through me to do it.”

“Logan no!”  You screamed, even as you knew it was too late.

There a ripple of power, your power, through the air, a barrier shattering around Logan, who didn’t even have time to make a noise, before he was gone, the barrier closing behind him, making disappear.

The figure had barely moved, but you knew he was smiling. “Now then, shall we get this over with? Your power is going to be mine now.”

Anger filled you, an anger like you’d never felt before, your blood boiling in your veins, heart pounding in your ears as tears rolled down your cheeks.  Somehow, you got to your feet, facing this being, hatred and rage coursing through every molecule of your body.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

The man took another step forward and every bit of strength you had left filled you, your power bending the very world around you, and he had enough time to pause before you launched it forward.

A struggle between the two of you ensued, as he used his own ability to try and grip at yours again, to try and manipulate it once more, but your anger made it impossible.  Your gripped him in your powers, the simmering shards around him starting to fracture and break, making him scream.

Layer by layer you broke them free from him, the pieces landing, leaving small openings into other worlds, but you didn’t care.  This thing had to die.  He had to be destroyed.  It was the only thing that mattered.

It was the only way to get Logan back.

His shriek was ear splitting, light spilling forth, but still, you gripped him tight within your powers and pulled, sending pieces of him to different worlds, as far from you as possible, and once the last piece had vanished and sealed behind him, the barriers around the world began to close.

You stood, sucking in air as best you could, your body buzzing, everything feeling surreal as the world around you settled and the others began to appear, staring at you.

Your knees buckled under you, sending you hard to the ground as you tried to focus, tried to find where he had sent Logan, but you realised in quiet horror, that you couldn’t sense him.  A sob left you, everything too much, unable to say anything, and you collapsed, darkness quickly taking you, feeling very much alone.

[ladylynse]

Implications: [FF | AO3] Jack doesn’t intend to be fooled again, especially by blatant ghost trickery, and it’s high time this ghost learned not to underestimate him.

For @cryptidloids as a thank you for donating to my ko-fi. They wanted an angsty reveal fic, so I wrote one that includes ambiguous character death. No one dies, but it’s a distinct possibility, if action isn’t taken.

-|-

“Leave my son alone,” growled Jack.

The ghost glared at him and spat some ectoplasm in his general direction, but even he wasn’t strong enough to get out of that containment unit now that Jack had finally gotten him into it.

Well.

It was more than just a containment unit.

Jack had made some modifications on it just this morning, after the kids had gone to school.

But it was clear enough from the ghost’s cocky attitude that he didn’t know that.

Not that Jack would expect him to.

“I have no interest in your son,” the ghost hissed, and Jack didn’t bother to bite back his laugh at the obvious lie. He’d seen them in the same area, albeit rarely together—had he ever actually seen them together? Maybe once?—too often for it to be coincidence alone. He knew his son. Danny wouldn’t willingly seek out this ghost. He wouldn’t seek out any ghost, really—he actively tried to avoid their hunting trips—but he wasn’t foolish enough to go after one this powerful on his own if he’d changed his mind.

And Jack knew very well why Danny might draw a ghost’s interest. He was even less experienced at ghost hunting than Jazz. He was the easiest target of them all. True, Jack doubted this ghost was foolish enough to try overshadowing Danny and expect them to not notice that their son was a ghost, but—

“I’m not threatening your family,” the ghost insisted. As if that weren’t exactly what he was doing—or, rather, planning, before Jack had intervened.

This ghost had underestimated how much he cared for his family.

“I’m going to make sure of that,” Jack said, and he reached for the giant red dial on the side of the containment unit. The ghost’s eyes went wide, and Jack saw fear settle there. He wasn’t sure if it was real—he and Maddie were still trying to determine whether or not that emotion might remain, if only to explain the Fright Knight’s power over other ghosts—but it didn’t matter right now. If it was real, all the better. If it wasn’t, he was used to ghosts attempting to fool him, anyway.

He didn’t bother to acknowledge the implications in the ghost’s desperate assertions that he’d be free soon enough anyway, that Jack might as well let him go now and save them both the time and trouble. He ignored the carefully controlled panic lurking in the ghost’s voice, behind a plea not quite disguised as a command that Jack stop, when his words had no effect. Jack didn’t blink as the ghost’s voice rose a fraction and demanded to know exactly what he was doing.

He just turned the machine on.

The screams were startling real, even though he knew perfectly well that ghosts didn’t feel pain. Against his better judgement, he turned the machine down to low and waited. He expected the ghost to take the opportunity to direct his power at the machine and try to break free, that desperation might push him past his façade of innocence.

Instead, the ghost dropped the floor, gasping as if he really needed air to breathe.

“I don’t take threats to my family lightly, ghost. You should know better than to underestimate me.”

The ghost might have whimpered. Or Jack might have imagined that. Either way, the ghost didn’t face him.

“Do you understand me?”

“What—?” The ghost’s voice was raw, raspy. “What—what was that?”

Jack turned the machine back on. He couldn’t see the anti-ecto-radiation that was flooding into the ghost, but he could see its effects. The way the ghost’s suit started to shift and melt like wax. The way his skin, though more resistant, began to bubble and blister and burst as if burned.

And, of course, the way the ghost promptly gave up all acts of defiance and whole-heartedly turned himself over to the act of screaming and writhing in pain.

Jack stopped when there was a distinct shimmer of ectoplasm on the floor of the containment unit. The ghost looked up at him. His features were still defined, still distinctly humanoid, but now he looked as if he’d gotten a face full of caustic chemical. It was….

It was unnervingly similar to something Jack had seen once before, back when he was in college.

“You imbecile!” the ghost shrieked. “You absolute buffoon!”

That was familiar, too. The way pain and rage seemed to be what motivated the ghost to force the words from his throat, the way—

“What are you trying to do to me, you blundering oaf?”

The ghost struggled to his feet, ectoplasm smearing the glass as he pressed against it to push himself up.

The way his suit hung on him now, it reminded Jack of a lab coat.

Even his hair had been shocked out of its stylized horns, looking more like—

“Do you really want to finish what you tried to do the first time?” the ghost snarled. “Do you really dare try?”

There should be no way for the ghost to break out of the containment unit, but Jack turned the dial again anyway. Just in case. He didn’t…. He didn’t like that this ghost knew enough about his past to make those implications. Those accusations.

Especially when those very thoughts haunted Jack’s darkest moments.

Vlad had been his best friend. Vlad and Maddie. But after the accident with the proto-portal—

The ghost fell, its knees buckling as the radiation hit it and once again began to destroy the cohesion of the ectoplasm it controlled. Jack ignored the screams. It was easy, especially now that the ghost was past the point of words.

Ectoplasm oozed from its form, but it was still maintaining its shape. An indicator of its strength, no doubt. Jack didn’t relent. The anti-ecto-radiation…. It should be strong enough to destabilize a ghost entirely. And Jack wanted this one gone. It had no business threatening his family, trying to find a way to destroy it and use his son in the process.

Besides, it should have never been able to follow them from Wisconsin.

Wisconsin.

Where they’d met up with Vlad at the reunion after years of silence, after—

The ghost’s skin didn’t look as blue as it had moments before. It looked…redder. But a distinctly human red, like someone who’d been sunburned, or—

The cape dissolved into bubbling ectoplasm entirely, and the rest of the ghost’s costume melted away to reveal a dark suit that was quickly becoming stained with the ghost’s ectoplasmic remains.

Jack wasn’t sure when the hair had lost its dark colour and become matted grey.

He didn’t know when the ghost had stopped screaming, either.

He didn’t notice the silence until he realized that all he could hear was the high-pitched whine of the machine, the hum of a computer fan, and the deeper drone of the portal—all interspersed with the occasional beep that warned that they’d need to change the ecto-filter soon.

Jack shut off the anti-ecto-radiation and powered off the containment unit entirely.

The ghost maintained its imitation of his best friend.

Former best friend.

Jack knew he shouldn’t open the door, shouldn’t give in to an obvious ruse and allow the ghost to escape, but he still did it.

Ectoplasm squelched underfoot.

It was unpleasantly sticky.

Jack knelt in the mess anyway.

It…it looked like Vlad. He could give the ghost that much. It looked so much like his old college buddy. He hadn’t known shapeshifting was one of Plasmius’s abilities, but ghosts had surprised them before.

Jack prodded the ghost’s arm. Still solid. Surprising, given how much ectoplasm it had lost. It should have been reduced to goo. It should—

“You always were a fool.”

Its voice was weak, more breath than anything else, but Jack reacted immediately, pulling back and drawing an ecto-gun. The ghost’s lips twitched into the briefest of smiles—or perhaps a grimace; Jack really wasn’t sure if it could be called a smile—and it focused its blue eyes on Jack’s face.

It looked too much like Vlad.

Even shifter ghosts tended to get things wrong, and eye colour was a common mistake.

“But you were right.”

Ah, there was the mistake. The ghost had betrayed itself with its whispered words, and Jack found it that much easier to prime the ecto-gun and hold it steady. As much as Jack knew Vlad was surely be proud of all his accomplishments—they spoke for themselves—he had never heard Vladdy admit it. Vlad had always preferred to defer to Maddie’s judgement and acknowledge her skills. She was the one to double check all of Vlad’s calculations. She was the one with whom he had always compared notes, the one he complimented and praised, even to this day. Never Jack.

“I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

The ghost closed its eyes instead of attacking.

Jack wished he could close his, too, and wipe away this image of Vlad, but he knew better.

Knowing better couldn’t keep his usually steady arm from shaking, though.

“I’ll tear you apart, molecule by molecule,” Jack said, resorting to an old standby in an attempt to keep the threat in his voice. “For what you tried to do.”

The ghost’s eyes opened. This time, it found the strength to grin at him. The expression looked so wrong on Vlad’s face. It was humourless. Cold.

And it showed off impossibly bloody teeth.

Jack didn’t realize he’d dropped the ecto-gun until it hit his knee and bounced into the ectoplasm all around them.

“You already have.” Even weak, the response held the telltale note of a taunt. Jack no longer found it so easy to explain away the similarity between Vlad’s voice and Plasmius’s. He’d always ignored it before, because ghosts could only imitate humans, but—

But there was too much ectoplasm on the floor of the containment unit for any ghost to still retain its form so solidly, even one as strong as Plasmius. And it knew too much, looked and sounded and acted too much like Vlad. And…the blood. Ghosts didn’t have blood.

But humans….

If humans were exposed to enough ectoplasm, then theoretically….

No. This was a trick. It had to be.

Except the ghost wasn’t taking advantage of his lapse in judgement, and the illusion didn’t waver.

Because it wasn’t an illusion.

And the ghost in front of him…. It wasn’t a ghost. If it ever really had been. If he ever really had been. And Jack knew he should do something about that. Help him. Call Maddie. Follow their protocols for isolation. Deal with this. Do something.

But he couldn’t move. He wanted to. He knew he should. But he couldn’t.

I’ll tear you apart, molecule by molecule.

He just stared at the ghost.

You already have.

At Vlad.

He watched as his old friend’s ragged breathing got slower and slower, remembering everything Plasmius had ever said or done to threaten his family. To threaten him. Pieces that he’d never realized were missing were suddenly falling into place. He didn’t know everything, but he now knew enough.

And he knew this wasn’t something that he could fix.

He really had been a fool.

(see more fics)

[herstarburststories]

You left me ✘ Barry Allen Imagine ✘

✘ A/N: I'm not even gonna talk about my delay because y'all know me. School's last year is busyyyy. Also, angstttt. Tbh I do not consider this one too much angst. But well. I'm having seconds thoughts about the result but let's see it!

Beta: @lyss-91.

CHECK MY MASTERLIST (bio).

✘ Request: Can you do a Barry Allen X reader and Barry comes home from work and Y/N is gone because she got powers and she couldnt control them so she Avoided Him bc she didnt want to hurt him.

3 HOURS AGO

You looked around with a helpless smile. Every molecule of your body aching, trying to make yourself stop at that exact spot in the middle of the room and wait for him, not just walk through the door and run away.

But you knew that this was the closest act of doing the right thing you would ever do. It wasn't your wish to leave, it was an altruistic need.

You held the piece of paper with her trembling hands while stared at your unique calligraphy in the tough words written there. A single cold tear slipped down your cheek, landing on the letter; proof that it hurt as much as you'd demonstrate into words.

You sniffed and shook your head, pushing these feelings away from your rationality. Doing this was necessary.

Your scarlet boots echoed on the wooden floor as you walked toward the door.

A thump, the door closed.

And there was no love left inside the apartment.

                                ×××

CURRENT TIME

Dear Barry, 

No. That could not be happening. It wasn't possible, not even an imaginary option. Someone had tampered with this, right? He was a forensic scientist, he could grab it, take it to the lab and- 

Oh Jesus. That’s so cliché, huh? Dear and blah, blah, blah. Not exactly my cup of tea - I always wanted to say that-, the only romantic cliché that I ever experiencied was those annoying butterflies in my stomach everytime you touched my skin. 

No, that wit sugary could not be simulated. It was you, his girl. 

See? I mean, read? You, even when not by my side, make me act like a chick-flick romance. Bleh. 

But that’s not the point. The point is... God, how do I say it without breaking our hearts? 

Well, I don’t think there’s a politely way. Even though I'm a writer, I can't make it look softer.

I’m leaving you, babe. 

Or the girl he thought that was his. 

I’m so sorry, I really am. As much as I know that you won’t believe me, I beg you to do so: I love you. Deeply, desesperatly. Pure as the angel that you are, strong as the devil that I am, I love you. Always did, since the first time that you saw me. Or should I say stalked me on Jitters? Boy, that was creepy.

Barry Allen's first instinct was to laugh softly, as he always did when it was something about you. (Y/N), the love of his life, the incarnated affirmation of such a theory like love at first sight when he rolled his eyes at something Cisco spoke at Jitters - mission: coffee and brownie for Iris and Caitlin - and looked to the side, accidentally laying the green orbs on you, not many months ago. Unfortunately, any sign of happiness or lightness was braked in the deep of the Flash's throat. 

You were leaving.

(Y/N), abandoning him. 

Something happened. You know how that blue-haired metahuman, who Iris wrote about could control water molecules? I can control fire by myself. 

I have no idea how it happened, if anything exploded again or some anomalie inside my blood made BLOW. The thing is, if you look inside our room, you’ll notice that some places are burned. I tried to cover it as best as I could. I wish I could say that is what it is, just this small accident. 

But, of course it’s not. 

His heart was racing faster than his feet ever could, almost exploding. The air in his lungs was scarce, Barry could feel his throat closing as he gasped in opposition. 

It felt like having a panic attack, just as he had when he was a child after his mother's death. 

Once again, someone Barry loved was leaving. And he could not do anything about it. Not even now that he was Flash.

He was still that impotent eleven-years-old boy. 

Our postman, Mr. Charles, that old, gentle old man? He showed up today while I was home. As aways, he was really atencious, asking about me and you. When we’d get married. But when he extended his arm to give me the mail, I accidently burned his hand. 

Holy hell. He tried to process it, though only more questions came to distance the answers, just like his worry about you. You must be feeling so bad, so scared, so... Alone. And Mr. Charles, how was he? Was he still alive? Barry wanted to run. Either with his eyes to finish reading it or with his feet to go away, to you. Yet, there The Flash was paralyzed.

He is okay. Alive, at least. 

Reading it was, at least, a relief. Charles was a good man.  Unfortunately the good news was attached to a catastrophic thing, as always. After all, Barry Allen did not win, only The Flash did. 

He wondered why. Why (Y/N) would do this? He could have helped you, the whole Team Flash could. They dealt with similar things, even worse; they could train you until you found the power of self-control. They would have everything in hand.

The ugly answer came hard and fast, like a punch in the face.

Barry didn't tell you that he was The Flash. In his mind, for noble reasons. Protection. He loved you more than anything and wanted you to stay alive to love even more. The hero did not think that would have such brutal consequences. You screaming when you'd find out? Breaking something? Sleeping with a friend for a few nights? All this was understandable. Painful, but fleeting.

But that? That was fatal. 

I love you with every piece of my human being body. You’re the blood in my veins, the happiness in my smile. My sun to the Moon that I am. And that’s why I need to leave. 

With the powers of his persona, Barry no longer had to worry about some trivial things. His mind taking too long to understand something was one of those. But at that moment, his brain was in a chaotic loop, which would leave a wound open for a long time.

If he'd gotten home two minutes faster, maybe it would not have happened. If he had been honest with you from the beginning, he could be comforting you now. So many 'ifs' and only a reality.

If I hurt you, I wouldn’t survive. Neither would you. 

Barry's body was burning. What an irony. It was like he was about to vomit, hands shaking. The tears did not come, too frightened to see the outside world that called them so persistently. Was it his system trying to save himself by noticing that his heart was deteriorating, his senses were already leaving him?

We could just be sleeping and suddenly you'd get a burn. Or worse. I can't deal with that. I can't be okay with being around people while I am not able to control it. Me.

How strange. I always saw metahumans as people and not its. Clearly, because they are. No matter how bad they've become. Yet, right now all I feel is like an it.

I became a it.

I wonder if they felt like that. If I'll ever feel as powerful as some of them seem to.

I need to go, Barr. To far away, to find answer.

The forensic scientist knew he could faint anytime, he was giving up his own mind. 

Keep being everything this worlds needs, my nerd. 

Always yours, 

(Y/N). 

You were out there. Alone, scared. Of course, you could handle yourself. He was fully aware of that. Still, Allen knew how hard it was to deal with such powerful things. Especially when your contact time with the new part of yours was so horrendous.

And it was his fault. He felt it. 

All of it.

Barry ran away and checked the city countless times, that only took a few seconds. (Y/N) wasn't anywhere to be seen, she had probably even left the state. He went back to the apartment, grabbing the letter again. Rethinking and oscillating between his human and heroic speed to do so.

He'd lied to you for months, and still had the audacity to kiss you and promise things that he clearly could not keep up. Barry Allen let his bright star melt and trickle down his pale fingers, hurting both him and you in the process.

And (Y/N) was gone.

His mother was gone.

His father was gone.

Finally, his body forgot that foolish resistance, surrounding to its breakdown. The Scarlet Speedster, Barry fell to the ground in a thundering noise, the tear-stained letter crumpled in his right hand while he put his head between his legs and cried as hard as he could.

He was gone.

[thecrains-hillhouse]

The Haunting of Hill House - Fanfiction Luke/OC

Faded

Anna Spencer was no stranger to the horror of Hill House and now it was calling her home.

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two - Current] [Chapter Three - Coming Soon]

Faded

Chapter Two

Sun filters through the trees like waves of sunlight breaking onto shore. The grass is a luscious green, the flowers in bloom and beautifully fragrant and the picket fence that surrounded the property sat proud like a pristine white halo. The picture perfect house in front of me had a porch that wrapped itself around the walls like a safety blanket, with a swinging chair hung towards the left hand side of the large wooden door. Blue shutters adorned the windows and the faint smell of apple pie drifted through the warm breeze.

This was my home… Or at least the one I had created for myself in the deepest most sacred parts of my mind when I was nothing but a child. Everything down to the garden path and the oak tree that shaded the yard was perfect and right now, so evidently real.

“Momma!” An angelic voice sounded bringing me out of my dreamy gaze. A mousey brunette girl bounded from the house, her curls bouncing as she skipped towards me. “Momma, come on!” She shouts and I instinctively reach out for her, pulling her close to my chest.  “Momma?”

“Yes, baby?” I ask, planting a kiss on her forehead as if it was the most natural thing in the world. This was my daughter, of this I was certain.

“Daddy said that dinners ready!” She tells me excitedly, pulling me towards the house, her little hand fitting perfectly in mine.

I follow her in wonder up the garden path, she leads me up the stairs, across the porch and through the large wooden door and I’ve never felt more at home.

“There’s my girls,” a familiar voice sounds from inside the kitchen and the small girl lets out a perfect laugh.

“Daddy!” She calls releasing my hand to launch herself in to his arms. “I got momma like you asked.” She tells him, and I take a step forward to peer round the corner.

“Hey baby,” He says to me and my heart almost stops

Like Crain stands before me, holding our daughter in my childhood dream house. Pictures begin to adorn the walls and I watch our perfect life play out like a fairytale. Tears sting my eyes and I breathe a sigh of relief. This was exactly where I was supposed to be.

“You okay?” Luke asks, his rough hand gently caresses my face, his expression full of concern. I nod and offer him a tearful smile.

“I’m perfect.” I tell him as I lean into his touch. “For a second there I thought I had stepped into a dream.” We laugh together and it’s magic. We spend the afternoon eating apple pie, playing hide and seek and laughing together. We’re a family and it feels so good.

As it gets late, and the sun begins to set, we curl up on the couch. Luke holds our girl close and my legs are slug lazily over his, with his hand resting naturally on my knee. I pitch myself to make sure this is real and as I feel the sharp pain against my skin, I find Our daughter fusses in Luke’s arms but as I reach out to touch her, she turns to me with dark eyes.

“It’s time to wake up momma. It’s time to go home.” Lightening sounds from outside and I stand quickly from the sofa. I watch as everything that was once picture perfect turns into the perfect nightmare. Mould creeps up to walls like vines. Rain and hail slammed against the windows and a silhouette of a red head clouded the door.

I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can’t do anything other than stand and wait for whatever fate has is store for me.

“Anna?” Luke calls to me and suddenly he’s ten feet away, and she’s there in place of our baby. The lady with the fire hair. And she’s holding something... A needle.

No.

I scream out for him, but no sounds pass my lips. The redhead slams the needle into Luke’s chest and the ground swallows him hole.

I can feel the tears streaming down my face, I want to run to him, to follow him to whatever abyss he’s fallen into but I’m frozen in place.

“Sleep never helped you before, honey.” Red says, her charismatic smile firmly in its place. “You can’t escape,” She tells me. “Now I won’t tell you again.” She lights a cigarette and strolls over, taking long, slow drags as she does. Red stops a few feet away and flicks her cigarette in my direction. I watch helplessly as it hands but inches away from my feet.

“It’s time to come home.” She demands before I’m engulfed in flames.

I wake up with a start gasping for air, the smell of cigarettes still lingers in the bedroom, to a faint banging on the front door downstairs.

04:02

What the fuck?

“Anna!” A voice calls me as I stumble clumsily down the stairs. I fumble around with the lock and the door swings open.

“Steve?” Steve Crain stands before me, his eyes bloodshot.

“Anna, I’ve been trying to call you for two fucking hours.” He half shouts at me, hitting the brick wall with his palm.

Something’s wrong.

“What’s happened?” I ask, and I can already feel the hairs on my body stand on end.

“Have you heard from Luke?” My heart drops.

“You know I haven’t seen him since dinner, Steve.” I answer defensively. Luke and I hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while now and Steve knew this. It was a sensitive subject and I was half offended he even had the cheek to ask. I move to the side and let Steve move into my home. He makes a sarcastic comment about ‘still leaving the light on for him’ and I ignore it effortlessly as I had done for the past 25 damn years.

I cross my arms over my chest, and ask “Now tell me why the hell you’re standing on my doorstep at four in the morning.”

“Are you eating?” Steve asks innocently.

“Yes.” I snap and he doesn’t push me any further.

“It’s Nell.” Steve continues slowly and as hard as I try not to see the tears gather in Steve’s tired eyes, they are more than evident. My stomach churns as I await the news that tastes so bitter on his tongue. “She... She went back to that damn house.” Fuck, Nellie. You promised. “She’s dead Anna. She killed herself.”

Time itself stops and everything good in this world falls apart molecule by molecule. Steve and I stare at each other with broken glances, and behind him a flash of red. I can feel hot tears fall down my cheeks, and Steve presses the sleeves of his jacket firmly into his eyes. Steve Crain; logical strength.

“No,” I shake my head. Pure denial crossing my entire being. It didn’t make sense. Especially after Olivia. Nell wouldn’t hurt the ones she loves like that, not after the damage it had done to them all when we were kids. “There’s no way. She wouldn’t do that to us, Steve.” I tell him and Steve scoffs at me, like maybe he believed that just a few short hours ago.

“Yeah well she did. She’s gone.”  He tells me, and I feel heavy with grief. We do not say anything for a while, we stand in silence taking solace in each other’s presence.

“What do you need me to do, Steve?” I ask quietly.

“I need you to help me find Luke, he voluntarily left his rehab last night and no-ones seen him since.” Fuck. “Following that junkie girl like a lost puppy... He’s 90 days clean, did you know that?”

“I did, actually.” I nod and Steve rolls his eyes at me. Of course I damn well knew, I called that centre so many fucking times, the actually picked up by saying hello Anna. I give Steve one of my infamous looks and he holds his hands out in surrender. We both sigh in defeat. “Does Luke know about Nellie?”

“Not yet, that’s why I need you.”

“Give me five minutes.”

---------

The night is dark and the air feels as heavy as my heart. I watch the outside world pass by and it’s hard to contemplate that Eleanor Crain, my best friend and soul sister no longer walks this world with us. She doesn’t breathe this air, she doesn’t see the blackness of night or the light of day. She doesn’t do anything, she doesn’t feel anything... She’s just gone.

Luke’s sober coach talks aimlessly at Steve and I can see it goes in one ear and out the other. I look at each and every individual that we pass, taking the time to register if they are strangers or Luke, the first boy and only boy. Their faces blur together and I wonder if we’ll ever find him in this ocean of beings.

I can feel the emptiness of my stomach churning once more, the gold necklace hung around my neck feels unusually heavy. My hand instinctively reaches for it, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I find it exactly where it should be. The necklace sits just above my heart and from there hangs a  diamond ring. An old promise made in another life.  A different life.

Bile rises in my throat and I have to close my eyes for a moment and remind myself to take a breath. I count to myself and I can feel my heart slow, my fingers in a death grip around the white gold promise.

I can hear Steve swear to himself, cursing every addict in this dead-end city and as I open my eyes to cuss him right back, there he stands... Like an angel in the darkness.

“There he is, I see him.” My voice is quiet and the tension in the car hits its highest. Steve pulls the car over and I hesitantly step out. I watch as Luke Crain takes seven steps. He waits for a moment and then counts seven more.

“Luke,” I call to him.

“Anna.”

There has to be seven. That’s what keeps you safe.

-------

Thank you for reading, please do let me know what you guys think and whether I should continue. Apologies for any errors, I have a bad case of tonsillitis so I’m 100% blaming that! Until the next chapter :D

TAGS: @iamthemaskhewears @currentlythinkingofacoolusername @inhumanhacker @southernmistake @coolyoungbouquetdestinylove

[v4shthestampede]

Till It’s Over

Rated T (for swearing and violence) | Just Shapes and Beats | Fresh/Square | tw: graphic descriptions of violence, bodily injury, and death | JSAB ending spoilers

Square was nothing.  Less than nothing.  Just a blip in his otherwise perfect plan, an inconvenience.  Insignificant.  In any case, how could something so small affect him in any way?

When he took the treeangle, squeezed out its now infected energy and felt it burn down his throat, the effect was delayed, but god when it came.

He could feel every single molecule around him.  His senses were a mess, hyper-aware and yet, still dulled.  At that moment, he was on top of the world - every doubt, every negative emotion melted away, leaving him both relaxed and manic.  He celebrated, performing his dance for no one but himself, leaving a trail of destruction as he went, barely even registering the wind blowing against him - let alone the minuscule shape witnessing this, barely dodging him as he went.

In fact, he didn’t really notice until an unfortunate piece of blue got stuck in his windpipe and got coughed out.

So when the same piece of blue was actually making a dent in the security at HIS factory, he was only a little bit bothered.  Only a little bit.

Okay, okay, this was fine.  Nothing to worry about!  If they wanted to try and stop him, let them.  There was nothing they could do.  Let them try and get past the woggles.  Let them flail around and try to escape their inevitable doom.  This was nothing to worry about.  He had already won.  Everything was fine.

Or at least, everything was fine… Until they managed to weasel their way past him and grab the last piece of the treeangle.

He panicked.  Was this it?  Was this the end of his short-lived dream?  Would he be defeated now, and by this...this… Cockroach? For just a moment, he had all the power in the world, and it STILL wasn’t enough.  And now that he had tried all his options, he might as well accept his defeat with grace, and watch as his future slipped out of his grip.

Unless…  He hadn’t exhausted all his options.

Filled with desperation and adrenaline, he pushed the measly shape out of the way, grabbing the treeangle.

Holding it in his grip, he shuddered.  But…  There was nothing to be afraid of.  He had absorbed its energy, the object itself shouldn’t be too different…  It might just hurt a little, for a bit.  And then he would have it all, he would finally have the power to rule all of Paradise.  So he braced himself, and he shoved it firmly into his skull.

At first, he didn’t feel anything - he was quite surprised.  He thought there would at least be a sting.  And then he realized that the screaming he was hearing was his own.

And then, the pain.  Oh god, the pain.  It was unlike anything else he had ever experienced.  It pulsed through him, devouring his entire being until there was nothing left but the hurting - it felt as though he was being torn apart, atom by atom, only to be mashed together again with no regard for the original composition of his body.  And for all he knew, that could be accurate to what was happening to him.

When the pain faded to a dull ache to nothingness, he was relieved.  However, the relief was only there briefly - in a way, feeling nothing was worse, as the creeping realization that his body was moving of its own accord filled him with horror.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, no, not at all…  He watched with sympathy from the newly made prison of his own body as the tiny shape became more and more panicked with every hit.  He wanted to win, yes, but this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.  But as much as he willed his body to stop, his brain to startle him awake from this awful nightmare, it just kept going, even when there were shards of teal scattered on the floor.

It was funny, he almost felt like crying as he repeatedly smashed Square into the ground to keep them dead.

This was it.  This was the end.  This was what he wanted.  He couldn’t even be happy about it, and to top it all off, it wasn’t even really him who accomplished it.  He was a foolish king who had reached his foolish end.

He was well resigned to his fate when his nemesis reassembled, ready to end this.

He welcomed the pain that came from the blasts of pure light with open arms, tearing open his defenses and bringing him ever closer to death.  Still, this body that was only remade to destroy, kept going.  It was a sort of sick irony, cheering for this insignificant creature he had been battling up to this point, but he was too sick of this - longing for it to be over - to care.

The last thing he saw as his consciousness fell into darkness, melancholy in his heart and a tired fog on his brain, was Square, cheering.

Days later, Fresh pulled himself out of the empty husk that might have been his body one, bloodied and broken.  I’m alive, he thought, joyfully.  I’m alive, he thought again, this time woefully as pain pulsed through him.

It felt as though his head was being split in two.  He was too afraid to check if that truly was the case, but he could tell that the rest of his body was just as he imagined - ripped apart, still healing the wounds he had brought upon himself by means of being an utter idiot.

He resisted the urge to curl up in the fetal position, his entire body shaking from exhaustion and aches.  “This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he stated at a mere whisper, voice cracking.  He tried to repeat it, but all that came out was a choked whimper.  He tried now, desperately, to stop the sobs that wracked his body from spilling from his lips, and cried anyway.

Paradise was back to normal, now, lush as ever, as if nothing had happened.  He ignored it as he dragged himself back to his cave.

---

Someone had reported seeing Fresh going back to his cave.

Of course, no one knew how that was really possible.  Many had seen him be brutally shattered at the hands of Square - good riddance.  But no, he was alive and well - well, well was a bit of an overstatement.  But either way, an air of anxiety hung over Paradise.  What if he came back to corrupt everything again?  What if he stole the treeangle again?  And even worse, what if he succeeded this time?

So when he emerged from his dwelling once more, Square was there, and he was ready.

Even so, he tensed when he saw the pink.  Not that he would tell anyone that part.

Something seemed off.  Fresh was moving sluggishly like he was made of concrete, and if it weren’t for his size, he would look almost pathetic.  They ignored the feeling in their gut that this was all somehow wrong, and instead prepared themself for battle.

“Hey, Fresh! It’s hard to believe you’d show your face out here again! Bet you didn’t expect to see me here, did you! But here I am, so you better -”

“Just stop it.”

Square paused at the weak, gruff sounding voice.  What the fuck did he say, and more importantly, did he have a cold or something?

“Just...stop.  I’m too tired to deal with this, so shut up.  I’m not here to fight or anything. I’m just here to...to..”

There was an awkward silence as they stood off, Square waiting for whatever this douche was gonna say so they could kick his ass already.  They were almost ready to say fuck it and start the fight already, when -

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?  What? What did you just say?” Square squeaked out, incredulous.  They could not be hearing this right.

“I’m sorry, okay!?  I’m sorry for taking the treeangle, and I’m sorry for hurting everyone, and I’m sorry that I almost killed you. It won’t happen again.  And don’t make me say that again, this is a one-time thing!”

Square blinked.

They took a moment to take it in.  This wasn’t at all like the Fresh that popped out of nowhere, took his place as king and beat the everloving shit out of anyone who opposed him. That Fresh was upfront about his intentions.  That Fresh looked so confident and angry, but this Fresh…  This Fresh just looked tired.

“Okay…” Square started, nervously.  “I’m honestly not sure what to make of this.  I mean, you seem genuine enough, but this could just be a trick!  I’ll take your word for it for now, but I swear to every treeangle in the world that if you try to pull anything, I’ll be there to beat you again.”

As he finished and looked up to Fresh, there was something in his eye that they had never expected to see there, especially not directed at THEM.  It was a sort of affection and gentleness that was so intense, they had to look away to hide their blush.  

“Whatever you say, pipsqueak.”

And with that, Fresh was gone.

They later recounted the encounter to Cube, who was equally puzzled.

“Well, that certainly is...weird.  You said he sounded like he meant it, so maybe we have nothing to worry about…  Still, all we can do is wait and see.”

Square nodded, only half paying attention.

There was something in that gaze they didn’t want to acknowledge.  Something they didn’t want to think about, and yet it was all they could.  A question.

“Promise?”

[rickfallsforgravity]

Heart of the Storm

(Older Dipper x Reader // Trigger warnings: violence and some swearing) Foreword: Not a 100%  sure I’m happy with this but here it is anyway. The monster is kind of base of Sirens…? Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The morning haze drifted through the trees as I listened to Dipper’s heavy footsteps along the dirt path. Everything was still, stagnant, silent other than us and the sleepy morning mist. I looked towards him, the ragged journal tucked into the crook of his arm, the sunlight breaking through the canopy in rays that turned his hair a brilliant golden. I took a deep breath; the air was so heavily laced with moisture it was almost suffocating. I glanced through the leaves and noticed the clouds gathering, clustering…

“A storms brewing,” I said breaking the silence. Dipper’s head turned slightly, glancing at me, “and it’s a big one. Whatever you’re planning to do you better make it fast.”

A small smile entwined into his lips as he nodded but didn’t say anything.

 It wasn’t normal for him to be this quiet. Yeah sure, he was shy and adorably awkward in most social situations however, just like his sister, he was a talker. Especially with close friend. Normally, he would be babbling on about something science related or a new monster he discovered. I felt my heart rate increase a little, anxiety setting in. It just wasn’t like him to be this… quiet.

Suddenly he stopped and opened the journal, flicking through the pages until he found what he was looking for. I twisted myself to face him, to see whether I could guess what he was thinking but his eyes where hidden under his cap, shadowed and dark. I couldn’t read a thing.

“Dipper… what exactly are we out here to do?” I asked cautiously. It was stupid for me to even get worked up like this, I mean this was Dipper! And it wasn’t like this was the first time going on walks with him… But, it was just me and him, deep in the woods, alone…

He had changed over the last year too; grew a lot taller, put on a little muscle, became rather cute- I shook my head vigorously. What was I thinking, I’ve known Dipper for years! Being in a relationship with him would be wrong (no matter how many time Mabel tried to set us up together). It would never be ideal.

Plus, there was no way he liked me back. He’s obsessed with Wendy, always has been…

“You’ll see,” a wry smile on his lips. It was almost like he was mocking me… My anxiety rose like a mountain lion waking from a deep slumber as we started to walk again. I fell silent, trying to tame my heart, coaxing it into submission. Maybe it was the atmosphere. The air heavy with water molecules, so much so that it clung to my skin. It was claustrophobic. It was unbreathable. And it seemed to get worse the deeper we went into the forest but maybe it just my anxiety building and building and building-

Suddenly there was a break in the trees. I gasped, partly from amazement, partly because my lungs were on fire. As we edged into the clearing the mist parted to reveal a lake. Crystalline. Tranquil. So still and undisturbed that it reflected the sky, it’s water shimmering silver. The air here was so dense it was almost like I was drowning. The oxygen deprivation made my head spin and I clasped onto Dipper to steady myself. But it didn’t take away its beauty.

Without the leaf canopy hiding the sun, its light rained down, reflecting off the water dense mist to create fragments of rainbows in every direction I looked. Millions of colours. Everywhere.

“Dipper…” I breathed, my voice hardly audible. I felt his hand slip into mine and I realised that he too was struggling to breath. “What is this place?”

“I found it, once. A few months back. And I thought it was beautiful… I’ve been trying to look for it ever since; almost obsessively. It appears in various parts of the forest before the biggest storm of every month and then complete disappears.” He muttered, “I’ve not told anyone else about this yet, I- I wanted you to be the first one I showed it too.” But as I look out over the lake again… there wasn’t a single breath of life. Not a breath of wind. Not a single minuscule ripple of the water. Not a sound. It was like everything was drowned, dead and wilting; an uneasiness settled into my gut. Everything about this place was… off.

“Dipper… let’s leave” I glanced to the clouds, they had gone a grey so dark they were almost black. This couldn’t be good. I tugged at Dipper’s hand but he only stiffened, unmoving as his eyes locked onto metallic pool. As the dark clouds rolled over the edge of the trees into the clearing, the fragmented colours started to fade, shadowing us in the grim. In the oncoming dark, the perfectly circler lake started to glow. I watched, intrigued, as ripples broke the surface of the mirror and a body started to emerge from the middle of the lake.

Dipper took a step forward, mesmerised, nearing the water’s edge.

Then it started to rain. The storm unfurled, blossoming from a light English drizzle into an Asian monsoon. The droplet so heavy they bruised my skin like hail. The body unfolded into a beautiful lady, her eyes closed, perfect and still. Her skin the colour of death, pale and fragile. Her dark wet hair slicked to her back. Her blue dress clinging to her wet body, the water making it practically transparent, revealing… everything.

But she was beautiful.

Dippers hand slipped from mine, my fumbling fingers unable to grasp any friction with his. He fell onto his knees as if in prayer. Like he was seeing god-

Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open and I wanted to scream… but only silence was granted by my terror. Her eyes were abysses of oblivion- for she had no eyes, only a blackness that engulfed where they should have been. No iris, no pupil, no whites of the eyes- only nothingness.

And then she started to sing…

I felt my conscience dance to the hymns. Entrapped by its beauty. My mind was compelled towards her, making me want to throw myself into the lake, to give her all of me. My mind flooded for the sudden desire to become one with her. Suddenly, I was just another string on her harp of souls, just waiting for her to use me and my body for whatever she craved. The whole universe now revolved around her, silent and waiting.

I staggered lake wards, squinting through the pelting rain. Water stinging my eyes, everything turning into blurry visions. Suddenly, my foot caught on a rock and I tumbled forward, catching myself moments away from plunging head first into the dark murky depths of the lake. I froze, staring into the water, my face inches away from its surface.

Thousands of black eyes stared up at me, their faces ugly and deformed, contorted into looks of hunger and desire. Their skin wrinkled and grey. Their hair sparse and thinning.

And as they saw me they started to surge towards me, claws outstretched, yellow with age. Their mouths opened in anguish, showing rotting fangs. I threw myself backwards in a mad panic. This was a trap! All of it! I looked towards the maiden and what I saw horrified me. She was the worst of them all once the facade had fallen, spell broken. She was a rotting carcass, her skin grey and decaying, broken by maggots that had stripped the flesh to the bone. Her mouth agape, no longer singing but screaming…

Animals of all sorts were now emerging from the bushes, completely enraptured by the spell. Like zombies they stepped into the water, their eyes never leaving the maiden. Violently, they were dragged into the depths of the lake. The army of monstrosities tearing the poor things apart. Claws ripping apart flesh and fur. Teeth sinking into helpless throats. The blood of the deer, squirrels and foxes tainting the pure lake, the horror living on as the animals thrashed, calling and squealing as they were literally torn apart alive, the fear glinting in their eyes as the witchcraft fractured all too late.

Everything just a blur of red and silver; screaming bodies thrashing, drowning, dying in front of me. The silence before the storm now long gone as I found myself caught in its craze, the rain crashing down so loud, so brutal- this was the epicentre. This was what lurked at the heart of the storm…  

Suddenly I remembered Dipper and my eyes darted franticly. Momentary relief flooding through my veins as he was still on the grass. But I fell back into terror’s hold as I remembered that he was still trapped in the magic-

With eyes still glued to the woman, he carelessly casted the journal aside and started to strip, slowly pulling off his hoodie. He was falling for it! I needed to pull him out of the enchantment, I needed to find a way to bring his mind back into reality-

He tugged off his shirt, revealing his bare chest, his skin illuminating in the darkness. He stood up, moments away from meeting the water…

I lunged at him, pulling him onto the grass, sending us both tumbling away from the lake. I straddled him, my weight pinning him down as he squirmed underneath me. His pupils still dilated; searching for her, the maiden of the lake. He should have snapped out of it by now, why did he-

An abrupt snarl escaped his lips, the enchantment turning him into an animal, a wild thing, making him mad with desire. His nails dug into my skin, drawing blood as he tried to get me off him.

“Dipper…” I whimpered, struggling to keep hold of his slippery body. Why was their effect so strong on him? Why didn’t he just snap out of it when he broke eye contact like I did?

Suddenly, an outburst of shock escaped my lungs as a white-hot throbbing bloomed across my face. I was violently thrown to the side as Dipper’s fist connected with my cheekbone, the blood rushing to my face as it already started to swell red. My hand gingerly lingered over my cheek, the initial shock subsiding as the realisation hit home… Dipper had never hit me before.

As quick as lighting, he was on his feet again. My existence completely erased from his mind as he solely concentrated on her, stumbling forward, slipping in the mud, muttering something under his breath. He was blinded by his craving for her, who was in his mind was more beautiful than I ever could be… it made my stomach twist in jealousy. It hurt to see him like this…

Gritting my teeth, I staggered into a standing position. Hurt turned into hatred faster than a flutter of butterfly wings, igniting a fire within me that I didn’t realise I had. I advanced towards him, every scrape of my bones sparking new anger, new envy, new loathing. This was going to stop. NOW.

My hand clawed his shoulder as I spun him around to face me. His feral eyes darkened with insanity, his body preparing for a fight he knew he was going to win. A fight that would leave one of us dead. Preparing to end me. I growled, returning the hostility, returning the aggression- Then I did something that neither of us expected…

I kissed him.

I felt him stiffen with shock as my lips met his. He was soft, gentle, a scared animal lost within layers of incantations created by evil. I wrapped my arms around his torso, his skin electric against mine-

Then I felt him kiss me back.

His hands caressing my waist as he pulled me into him, deepening the kiss. The fire within me exploded with passion, taking over whatever sense I had. All dangers forgotten as we were lost in the heat of our bodies in union. My finger entwined into his wet, curly, locks of hair; never letting go, never stopping, never going to let him slip through my fingers like that again…

We finally pulled away, our lungs screaming for oxygen. Our pants releasing wisps of steam into the atmosphere. I glanced around us, noticing the stillness that had again overcome the forest, only fragmented by the rusting leaves in the wind. The rain had stopped…

“(Y-y/n),” Dipper stammered, his eyes large and curious, his fringe pulled back to reveal his birthmark. He was back to his normal self, good old dipping sauce. I brought a finger to his lips, hushing him gently as my own lips went to rested on his collarbone. I looked past him, into the clearing and saw that the lake was gone… like it never existed. Just grass and undergrowth.  

I sighed, relieved and finally let Dipper go, laughing when I saw how ridiculous we looked. Dipper’s clothes scattered on the floor, both of us covered in bruises, dirt and scratches, soaked in rain.

“Ford is going to throw a hissy fit when he sees us like this,” My laugh echoing through the trees, a deep blush blossoming on his cheeks as he looked around. I could just imagine it: Ford’s deep, steady, logical voice telling Dipper that we ‘were not kids children anymore’ and that we really should not go fooling about in the forest alone. Especially not during a storm. Stan would be standing behind him, adding on that he was a young man once and knew what it was like. When asked if anything did happen, Dipper would give everything away with a stuttered denial and the blood rushing to his cheeks. Mabel would then lose it; squealing ‘I KNEW IT’ before running off screaming ‘OTP’ or ‘Omgomgomgomg’. Ford would come to the conclusion that we were into some really kinky shit, judging by the state of ourselves, and Stan would pretend to be disappointed but secretly wink at Dipper, letting him know that he was totally onboard with the whole situation…

And I would get up from where every I was sitting, walk up to Dipper as I take his hand and plant a deep sensual kiss on his throat. Then continue in a flirty tone, ‘I’m going to take a shower, I’ll be waiting for you so don’t be too long…’ before winking at him and walking off. Probably escalating the situation by 1000% to then leave him to deal with the aftermath.

I grinned and turned to Dipper who had finished putting his soggy clothes back on. I cocked my head to one side and gave my most innocent smile.

Today was going to be interesting.

Written by M.S.T

[ladylynse]

Here, have a Jack- and Jazz-centric almost-reveal Danny Phantom ficlet.

Phantom’s Capture: Jazz was too late to stop it, but she had to try.

“Dad, no!” Jazz screamed.

Jack Fenton jumped and turned, but the damage was already done; the Fenton Bazooka’s trajectory had altered when she’d startled him, and instead of stopping him from shooting, she’d corrected his aim.

Jazz was out of breath even before the tiny body dropped out of the sky like a stone, but she kept running long after it crashed into the fountain. She stumbled down the grassy knoll to the path, using gravity to keep her feet moving even as the stitch in her side burned. She had to…had to get….

“Jazzy-pants, what’s gotten into you?” Jack asked as she careened past. He reached out to catch her arm, and she couldn’t evade him quickly enough. She sagged forward, but he held her upright. “You’re not carrying a weapon.”

She didn’t need a weapon. She just needed to get to Danny. She tried to break her father’s grip, but he wasn’t about to let her go. He might want his children to be interested in ghost hunting, but he also wanted them to be safe.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or weep at the irony of that.

“Just stay behind me,” he said, pulling her back. “You don’t want to give the ghost any more opportunities to trick you than it already has.”

Than he already has. But it wasn’t the time for that argument. Not now. “Dad—” Her voice cracked as he pulled out the Fenton Ecto-Cuffs. “Dad, you can’t.”

“Nonsense! I just need to slap these babies on that ghost before it recovers enough to fight back.” He brandished the handcuffs and grinned at her.

And then he ignored her protests as he turned to capture his own son, her brother, just because he thought she was misguided in her belief that Phantom was the good guy.

But this was her dad. She knew he had let ghosts go before—let Phantom go before—when he felt the situation called for it. He would almost be easier to convince than her mother. “Dad, please, stop.”

Jack Fenton picked up the unconscious Phantom like he was a sack of potatoes, completely oblivious to the way his body dripped water or the way his hair was plastered to his skin, just like it would be for any normal human. He said nothing about the slight rise and fall of Phantom’s chest, didn’t comment on how odd it was for blistering skin to be shown beneath the burn in Phantom’s suit or how ectoplasm flowed steadily from his wounds like blood, not a bubbling froth erupting from within at the merest breach in its containment. If he even noticed, he either didn’t acknowledge it or chalked it up to Phantom’s power, his ability to mimic humans. Both of her parents refused to see the truth. Didn’t want to think about it. And they were going to make a terrible mistake because of that if she couldn’t stop them.

Jack was cheerful, completely unaffected by her stricken expression. “Don’t you worry, Jazzerincess. Ghosts can’t feel pain.”

Yes, they can. Especially Danny. “No, you don’t understand. Dad—”

But he wasn’t going to let her finish. “You’ve seen what it can do, Jazz,” he said in a softer tone, a more serious one than he usually used. “Your mother and I can’t let this continue, especially since it’s managed to hoodwink you, too. Maybe, once we finish this, you’ll be able to see clearly again.”

“Finish—? Finish what?” But she knew the answer. Jack Fenton was famous for shouting it out. I’m going to tear that ghost apart molecule by molecule! She suddenly felt like she was going to be sick.

Something must have shown on her face, because Jack stopped and gripped her shoulder—which might be the only reason she was still on her feet. “You can’t,” she whispered, and then she looked at Danny’s pale, still face, and tried to will him awake.

He didn’t move.

“Please, for me, just…let him go.”

She saw sympathy and concern on Jack’s face, but it was for her, not Danny. “You know I can’t do that,” he said. “Your mother and I have an obligation to protect this town.”

But Danny’s taken that obligation upon himself, and you’re only making it harder on him! Can’t you at least work together? But she couldn’t say that. “So does Phantom.”

“It’s just trying to lull you into a false sense of security,” Jack said dismissively. “You should know that, Jazzy-pants. I understand if you don’t want to watch your mother and I work, but we need to figure out what makes this ghost tick if we’re going to figure out how to keep it down.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. Please, Dad, just trust me on this.”

“It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of safety.”

Yes, it is. Danny’s safety. Which you’re threatening. But he thought her judgement was compromised. “If you love me,” she tried, “then free him and walk away.”

“Jazz—”

She pulled away and forced herself to stay standing. She’d never win if she tried to physically force Danny away from her father; she had to convince him to give up Phantom. “I’ll never speak to you again if you do this.”

“Don’t worry, Jazz. No matter what it’s done to you, I’ll see that you’re right as rain by this time tomorrow!”

He would never hear her out if he thought she was only speaking words put there by Phantom. “It’s not me, it’s Danny.”

She saw him stiffen. “What about your brother?”

She wondered how much of the truth she could tell. Danny would never forgive her if she gave up his secret like this, but— “Phantom’s the only reason he’s alive.”

“Jazz, what do you know?”

The sudden intensity in Jack’s voice made her take a step back. She wasn’t scared of him, not really. He would never hurt her. If he realized what he was doing, he would never hurt Danny. But he was fiercely protective of his family, just like Danny was, and he would be harder to fool because of that. She took a careful breath. “The Ghost Zone and our world are connected,” she said. “It’s like two sides of the same coin. One can’t exist without the other. Danny and Phantom are kind of like that.”

Or maybe, now that she thought about it, exactly like that.

“So you’re saying Phantom took the name Danny because of our Danny? That it’s using our Danny to survive here?”

“Not exactly,” Jazz said, though she didn’t want to correct him too much because if she did, he’d invariably steer her closer to the truth. “I just mean that you can’t destroy Phantom. If you do, you’ll…you’ll destroy Danny, too.”

“Because of what this ghost has done to my boy?”

She didn’t like the way anger was creeping into his voice. “No, Dad. Not because of something Phantom did. Something Danny did. It’s not Phantom’s fault.”

“But it—”

“Just forget about Phantom! Focus on Danny, Dad. For Danny’s sake, let Phantom go.”

He was shaking his head. “I can’t. Not until Mads and I figure out what Phantom—”

“You can’t!” Jazz burst out. “It’s right in front of you, Dad, and you can’t see it because you refuse to see it! Let Phantom go, and then talk to Danny.” She wasn’t going to promise him that Danny would say anything, and she wasn’t going to promise him that it could all be sorted out, but she could promise him that much.

Jack hesitated. Then, finally, “You’re confused—”

“I’m not confused!” Jazz yelled, balling her hands into fists. “I’m just not blind! And I care about Danny!” Her vision was starting to blur. “Please, just…let Phantom go. If you care about Danny, you have to let him go.” She felt her legs give way this time, and she collapsed to the ground in tears. They weren’t forced, weren’t fake, and she hoped something in her voice was enough to convince Jack that she meant this. “Please, don’t hurt Danny.”

“Don’t worry, Jazzy-pants. I’ll see that this ghost never hurts him again.”

Jazz looked up, the denial leaving her lips—that’s not what I meant!—but Jack was already jogging to the Ghost Assault Vehicle. She scrambled to her feet and ran after him. She knew Maddie was at home, prepping the lab and supper (meaning they’d be ordering in from the Nasty Burger again), so if she couldn’t stop her dad now, she wouldn’t make it home in time to save Danny. “Dad, wait! Stop!” She reached the GAV just as he started it up. “You don’t understand!” she yelled over the roar of the engine as she fought with the door handle.

He’d locked her out.

He thought he was doing her a favour by keeping her from seeing this, by severing whatever connection Phantom had with Danny and freeing them both from the ghost’s influence.

She pounded on the window. “You don’t understand!” she screamed. “Danny’s Phantom! You can’t—!” But the GAV was already pulling away, and trying to hold onto the door handle just left her on the ground, bruised and battered and without breath.

With a screech of tires, the GAV pulled onto the street and roared out of sight.

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