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hello-im-not-a-possum · 1 year

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Shattered Identity

Chapter five: Pizza party at Vlad's! And gross horrors, lots of gross horrors.

Chapter one. Chapter two. Chapter three. Chapter four.

"Jeez, you two almost gave us a heart attack!" Tucker halfheartedly scolded the half-ghosts in the hallway as he texted Danny the message that the two broke off their fight on their own. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad things didn't get uglier than this, but next time, at the very least, yell for us if something happens instead of just turning the office into a haunted confetti storage room."

"Sorry Tucker, I didn't know you and Sam were here in the first place."

Danielle sheepishly twiddled her thumbs while her new little brother tapped on the bandages on his neck with an annoyed huff in response.

"Oh.. right, no vocal chords, my bad..." The geek winced. "Maybe we can get you an airhorn later."

"Or he could just scream without words." The technically older clone offered. "You two heard the ghost speak, right?"

"Huh, I always figured that ghost speak would sound... creepier and less like random animalistic noises?"

"♓︎♐︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬥︎♋︎■︎⧫︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ ♍︎❒︎♏︎♏︎◻︎♓︎♏︎❒︎," [if you want it to sound creepier,] Jack cracked his neck at an unnatural angle, the sickening sound followed by the squelches of wet ripping noises reverberated through the mansion and the action left the bandaged head dangling limply, giving the impression it was only attached to his body through the bandages on his neck themselves... "♓︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎ ❍︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬧︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ ♍︎❒︎♏︎♏︎◻︎♓︎♏︎❒︎..." [i can make it sound creepier...]

"Gah! Never do that again!" She shivered and punched the older halfa's arm, who let out a raspy chuckle as he reattached his head and opened the office door.

An uncomfortable silence fell as the destroyed state of the office was discovered, much worse than how the sparring spirits left it, large globs of bright magenta ectoplasm had grown(?) all over the office, globs that weren't just the messy aftermath of the brawl, they were writhing and squirming as if they were alive, some of them even had developing eyes and teeth..

"❄︎◆︎♍︎🙵♏︎❒︎, 💧︎♋︎❍︎, 🙵♏︎♏︎◻︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎■︎♍︎♏︎..!" [Tucker, Sam, keep your distance..!]

The two humans, while they didn't understand what the ghostly host said, understood the unknown nature of the threat at hand as well as his body language and backed away from the scene while the mansion's owner took a slow, hesitant step into the infested office, trying not to catch the attention of the strange creatures, their unfocused eyes instead drifting over the room itself as the bandaged ghost gingerly searched through the rubble looking for the most important items to salvage from it.

"...What are these things..?" Danielle's voice stayed small to not catch any unwanted attention from the unknown ghostlike entities as she followed him, her fist alight with a charging ectobeam as she kept an eye out for sudden movements from them.

"I_D-O-N-T_K-N-O-W" He spelled out on the recovered Ouija board "I-V-E_N-E-V-E-R_S-E-E-N_A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G_L-I-K-E_T-H-I-S_B-E-F-O-R-E"

Sure, from their perspective, 'Jack' not seeing anything like this was a given, he hadn't existed for very long, but Vlad had genuinely no idea how he had done this. A failed copying attempt that he didn't think through during the fight? Maybe a mishap with etco-barriers? ...Something else entirely..? All he really knew was that this was his ectoplasm everywhere and that it was alive.

Cheese curds! He should've known that he was biting off more than he can chew!

How was he supposed to handle this on his own?!

His powers were useless like this at best and detrimentally unstable at worst,

he couldn't get across how important this was to Danny without telling the truth,

but he can't tell Danny the truth!

Let alone Dani!

If they know that he's the real Vlad and he has all his memories but almost none of his powers,

they're going to take advantage of his weakened state and kick his butt!

and

at this rate all of Amity park is going to be enveloped in whatever this horrific ecto-gunk was before he even had a chance to carry out his plan-

and

Maddie is going to see it-

and

use it as a reason to make MORE of those horrible guns-

and

use them on the gunk as well as every single ghost in her sights-

and

she'd naturally set her sights on the ghost zone itself-

and

there wouldn't be a war between humans and ghosts,

and

except that it would be a genocide that he couldn't stop-

and

and-

Snapping out of the downward spiral of negative thoughts, Vlad felt the familiar lab coat being draped over his shoulders as well as two people touching him, one hugging him from behind (the person in question being small enough that people might mistake it for a piggyback ride), and the other who was awkwardly patting his shoulder.

Ugh, was he crying..?

Well, now he had another reason to keep his true identity secret from Danny and the others.

He would die of embarrassment if they knew that he wasn't a clone, still had his memories intact, and yet was still reduced to this weak, pathetic, over-emotional wreck, either they'd find it hilarious or worse, still pity him despite everything.

Part of him wanted to break off the hug to preserve the tatters of his pride and dignity while another part of him just wanted to stay like this a bit longer.

As humiliating as it was for him, it was also kinda nice to be held, to be reassured (albeit clumsily), to be comforted, to be loved.

"Uh, guys, hate to interrupt something but I just wanted to let you know Sam's ordering pizza, what flavors do you want?"

Both saved and damned by the pizza orders, the three halfas broke it off and Vlad put the lab coat on properly.

"Uh Pepperoni?" Danny shrugged.

"Also Pepperoni" Dani nodded.

"E-X-T-R-A_C-H-E-E-S-E_P-L-E-A-S-E"

"Got it" Tucker gave them a thumb's up and turned to head back to Sam before popping his head back in. "Will the cats try to attack the pizza guy?"

"NO_I" He fumbled with the planchette in an attempt to cover up the slip. "V-L-A-D_D-I-D-N-T_O-R-D-E-R_T-A-K-E_O-U-T_O-F-T-E-N_E-N-O-U-G-H_T-O_W-A-R-R-E-N-T_T-H-A-T_T-O_M-Y_K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E."

"Okay, thanks!"

The tech geek left for real this time, leaving the three to their own devices.

"So Danny, have you met my new little brother?" The physically youngest ghost gestured to the tallest.

"Jack? Yeah, he showed up at my house and named himself after my dad."

"You named yourself after someone you just met?" Dani snorted in amusement.

"T-H-E-R-E-S_W-O-R-S-E_N-A-M-E-S_T-O_G-I-V-E_Y-O-U-R-S-E-L-F_A-N-D_B-E-S-I-D-E-S_H-E_S-E-E-M-E-D_P-R-E-T-T-Y_N-I-C-E" Vlad shrugged nonchalantly.

From the dishonest ghost's actual perspective, it was something done because he named himself after the first thing he saw (that being the giant oaf) and he stuck with it because in foresight, 'Vlad naming his son after him', would break Jack Fenton that much more during both the reveal of Vlad's death as well as the funeral, in which he and Maddie would either figure out on their own or he'd tell them in his speech that he never had the chance to meet his father before his untimely tragic fate. And Maddie would feel all the more guiltier when she finds out that her horrible gun has taken a human life, one that, while she didn't care very much for, was important as well as cherished by many...

"So how did you know how to find Danny's house so quickly? Or did he bring you there?"

"H-E_F-O-U-N-D_M-E_I-N-J-U-R-E-D_A-N-D_T-R-I-E-D_T-O_H-E-L-P" The bandaged spook explained, being honest yet vague. "A-N-D_I_C-A-M-E_B-A-C-K_I-N_T-H-E_M-O-R-N-I-N-G_T-O_P-R-O-P-E-R-L-Y_I-N-T-R-O-D-U-C-E_M-Y-S-E-L-F."

"Well that's my super-cool cousin for you!" she playfully punches her gene-donor's shoulder. "Always willing to help!"

"Heh, yeah..." Danny gave a nervous smile to his clone and a concerned to 'Jack'. "Hey, speaking of which, you and I need to talk about your... 'issue' in private."

"G-I-V-E_M-E_A_S-E-C-O-N-D_T-O_G-R-A-B_M-Y_T-R-A-N-S-L-A-T-O-R"

Danny nodded and waited as the lanky spirit visually followed the charger to the discarded aid and cleaned the non-living ectoplasm off of it before putting it on his neck and giving him a thumb's up which Danny gave back.

Following the fourteen-year-old out of Dani's presumed ear shot, the lab coat wearing specter nervously picked at his hand's bandages wondering what 'issue' Danny was talking about, his mind almost imminently racing towards him asking 'did you get your memories back?' or something similar.

"Okay, so, don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you and Dani aren't fighting with each other anymore, but right now, we're playing with fire with this cover up. You might not remember, but she's been through a lot because of you- er, Vlad, I could not care less who else does and doesn't know the truth, but she needs to sooner rather than later."

Unbeknownst to the two of them, the clone was eavesdropping out of their sight. Her concern for her new little brother turning into intrigue.

"I know." he nodded somberly. "I plan on telling her everything after the funeral itself. I agree that she does need to know soon, but right now there's too many moving parts to keep track of and I don't know how she'll react to it."

Danny crossed his arms as he frowned at the taller halfa.

"Look, I might not know what I've done, but I get that I've done a lot before waking up and that there's no amount of verbal apologies that would undo all of it. However, this is for her safety too. Like it or not there's two problems that take top priority: Your mom's gun that will cause ghost zone genocide if nothing's done with it, and the power vacuum Vlad's death will inevitably cause. If you think that it causing genocide is just a hyperbole, think back on it, all it took was one hit to reduce a fully-grown, powerful halfa down to just a damaged core desperately clinging onto life, a core that would've shattered if left on its own, so tell me, what do you think would happen if you or her got hit with it?"

"...We'd instantly die..."

"Exactly, and your mom, a competent ghost hunter, knows how powerful that thing is and if it doesn't have any drawbacks from her end, she most likely wont stop using it until every ghost in her sights is dead, yes, even the good ones as well as the not as good but still likeable ones. As for the power vacuum, there are a handful of ghosts who know Dani's origin other than us, ghosts who would be more than happy to kill the only known heir to Vlad's estates while she's none the wiser. But if I handle the funeral *just* right, I could kill two birds with one stone, keep your mom from using the gun ever again and seal up the power vacuum. I know that she'll hate us-"

"Us? Where did you pull 'us' from?"

"Danny, she'll hate me for obvious reasons and hate you because you knew this big secret about me this entire time and never told her. But it'll be okay because she'll still be alive when she hates us, alive and safe. Which in a messy situation like this is the absolute best possible outcome."

"...Right..." Danny sighed.

"Hey," Vlad put his hand on the teen's shoulder reassuringly "she might hate me forever, but not you. Either someone she knows and trusts other than you will talk some sense into her or she'll cool off on her own and realize that you're not the bad guy in this. That in some cases, there isn't a bad guy when there's a bad situation and that sometimes, bad things just... happen and good or neutral guys are bad at handling it."

"Yeah... Thanks, I needed that..." he softly smiled.

Assuming that the conversation was wrapping up, Dani flew back to the office with new secret information to chew on for herself as well as keep hidden from her cousin and brother.

She already knew about Vlad's death and some things were self-explanatory, like the new gun being a big problem, but just how much did Jack Masters know? What dark secrets did the clone of Vlad hide that he shared with Danny and yet were so horrible that she'd never forgive him if she knew?

Was his original purpose not to tie up the loose ends Vlad's death left behind like he said but instead he was made with some of his gene donor's memories intact so that Vlad had pseudo-immortality only for Jack to betray his 'father' by living a different and new life?

Did he try to hunt down Danny and his parents just like how she originally tried to capture him?

Maybe even something worse..?

At the very least, they weren't worried about his malnourished frame meaning something bigger than it was, or Vlad's disease being fatal for Jack, or even the living ectoplasm he created was dangerous like she originally assumed the talk was about, and she could find some comfort in knowing that he valued her safety and well being over their bond as family. Her new brother might be shady, but he had a heart somewhere in those shadows.

"Oh hey guys! How was the talk?" She innocently greeted them as they approached the office.

"It went well."

"Yes, it was rather... informative." Jack picked at the bandages on his forearms while looking around the destroyed office for a distraction. Wait, where did the living ectoplasm go?! "Oh right! I can't believe I almost forgot the records!" He blurted out to keep the two from panicking as much as he was.

"...Records?" Danny raised an eyebrow at the pair.

"Yeah, fake marriage certificates, divorce paperwork, birth certificates, Social Security Numbers, school documents, passports, a not-fake-but-still-legally-questionable death certificate, maybe a fake death certificate for a woman who doesn't exist or two..." Jack listed off on his fingers "My job's more than writing the death certificate and will and calling it a day."

"Woah, woah woah! What do you need all that for?"

"Daniel, the days where someone can just pop into existence as the ages we are without any records of existing prior without drawing suspicion are long behind us. Sure, we could get away with not having them if we intend to live as a state-crossing nomads for a couple of weeks or months if we're lucky, go feral in the woods and let the public come to the conclusion that we were raised by animals while our bio parents abandoned us, or live in the ghost zone where there's a lot less organized existence trails, but we can't live like the average human person without this stuff, not in the long term in the human world. Sooner or later, the government is going to catch up to us and when that happens, we at least have something to shoo them away."

"Huh..."

"Wait, going feral in the woods is an option?" Dani asked her two-day-old physically older brother.

"Yeah, but it's not a good one. Trust me, I tried." Vlad waved off without further elaboration and shuffled the documents.

"Guys, pizza's here!"

Saved by the pizza yet again, the three changed back to their human forms and followed the geek back to the Mansion's foyer, where Sam was waiting for them along with several boxes of pizza and cans of soda were set down, almost enough to feed a frat party rather than a small group of teenagers who happened to have different diets. ...He had a strong feeling that they paid for all of this with one of his debit cards.

"Here you go." Tucker handed the bone-thin halfa five boxes. "I figured you could use it."

"Thanks..." Vlad stared at the boxes in his hands and gestured with his head. "...I'm just gonna, eat these in the other room..."

"No! No! You can stay, we won't judge!" Dani tugged on his sweater sleeve while giving him puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, but all of you get ONE question each, so use it wisely." He set the boxes down and sat on the floor next to them, crossing his legs while opening the top box

"What makes you think we're going to ask questions?" The goth raised an eyebrow "Everybody but Danny already saw your gross ecto-oozing fa-OH MY GOD!"

Everybody but Dani stared at the sight of Vlad's scarred, almost mangled-looking face in horror as the eldest teen just rolled his eyes at their terrified expressions, pocketed his face mask and munched on a slice of cheesy pizza while the others gawked at him like he was some sort of monster.

"...Does it hurt?" Dani was the first to break the awkward silence. "To eat, I mean..."

"Nope, I don't have any working nerves in my face." He lied nonchalantly between bites, not wanting them to know how much pain he was actually in. "Regardless of if its supposed to hurt or not, I can't feel a thing."

"..So if I punch you in the face, you wont feel it at all?" Sam was the next to ask.

"Yes, and you wasted your one question on that, so now you can't ask if you can test it." Vlad immaturely stuck his tongue out at her while she rolled her eyes out of annoyance and took a slice of her cheeseless mixed veggie pizza.

Tucker sat down near Jack and subtly studied his face while opening up the box of meat lover's pizza, if he was only going to get one question about this clone of Vlad's abnormal medical condition, he wanted to make it count.

From what he could tell, the marks on his face were less like acne scars like he assumed they should be (given that the clone probably had ecto-acne at one point, just like his gene donor with a chronic condition) and closer to... either really severe chemical burns or someone pouring boiling acid on his face. Closer, yet not identical to.

He couldn't tell how damaged the upper half of his face was due him having band-aids covering up some of the damage, but even then it was clear that the disfigurements around the clone's mouth were the most intense.

Whatever was used to scar his face ate off his lips and chunks of his cheeks, giving his left-side profile a ghoulish, too-toothy grin regardless of if its owner felt like smiling or not while the right side had a half-inch wide strip of flesh ending the 'smile' while also creating another hole in his face, and if he looked closely enough, he also seemed to be missing a part of his tongue in a way that made it look like there was a bite taken out of it...

"...Can I help you?" Jack asked without bothering to hide the irritation in his tone.

"O-oh uh... I just wanted to ask..." Darn it Tucker, think! You can't waste this question! "I couldn't help but notice that the lower half of your face seems more visibly damaged than the upper half, and that part of the inside of your mouth was partly eaten too, I don't mean to sound insulting but was that just random chance or was your... ...illness on the top half of your head focusing primarily on eating chunks of your brain instead of your face? Again, I don't mean this in an insulting way..."

Sam burst out laughing while Jack's expression went from annoyed to mildly intrigued, he opened his mouth to answer, paused, thought it over, and his mild intrigue turned to dawning horror...

"I... I might have to get back with you on that because I don't know either." Jack cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his nervous voice crack. "Oh Calzones, if he's right and I really am physically losing my mind... Oh Bread Sticks..." He muttered under his breath while holding his head between his hands. "...It explains so much, too much..."

Danny lightly tapped the older teen's shoulder. "Have you ever tried to eat by sticking food through the hole in your cheek?"

Vlad let go of his head and stared at him blankly, seemingly gone through the five stages of grief in five seconds and left so perplexed by Danny's question that it seemed his mind was catching up with the second halfa's words.

But you know what? He hadn't tried before, before, his time was too swamped with hospital trips and robberies to afford the hospital trips to mess around with the odd yet neutral characteristics of his condition. He should fix that while he could, for science.

His index finger idly traced part of the hole to make sure it wasn't bleeding while his other hand picked up and rolled up a slice of pizza, and he stuck the entire slice through the hole, chewed it for a bit and swallowed it.

"I have now, and the experience isn't different enough from eating normally to warrant switching to the hole."

Danny blinked at him, processing what he had just witnessed. "...Okay, I know you said one question but now I have to know; do you have two sets of jaws?!"

"I'll... Also have to look into that." He nervously smiled while screaming internally.

#danny phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #danielle phantom #body horror #fanfic #Shattered Identity

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a-vast-horizon · 9 months

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In early 1990, research continued into both the Backrooms as a whole and Daniel Fenton’s unique abilities, but an exploratory mission revealed that ASYNC personnel were not the only ones that had found their way into the Backrooms.

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, The Backrooms (Kane Pixels)

[Read Previous stories here first!]

Testing log: Experiment KV31-DP002

Participants: Daniel Fenton, Simone Richards

Research goal: Expanding on the results from Experiment KV31-DP001, determine the limits of Fenton’s control over his phasing ability and whether he can trigger his phasing at will.

Experiment procedures: Fenton and Dr. Richards will conduct a series of trials in ASYNC experimental labs in an attempt to prompt Fenton to phase. Fenton will attempt to intentionally trigger his phasing ability when prompted by Dr. Richards. In addition, Dr. Richards will attempt to trigger Fenton‘s phasing ability with a variety of stimuli including loud noises, disorienting visuals, and other input.

—

Recording of experiment: The following is a transcript of various trials conducted as part of the experiment, each labeled with the date and trial number. Full video recordings of the trials are available upon request.

[Trial 1: January 3, 1990]

[11:21:34] Daniel Fenton, speaking: Are you sure this is a good idea?

Simone Richards, speaking: We need to know what you’re capable of, Danny.

Fenton, nervous: But what if, once I start doing it, it keeps happening?

Richards: You’ve gained remarkable control over unwanted phasing in just a few months. I don’t think you’re going to lose that progress if you phase intentionally. If your phasing ability is like a muscle, then using it regularly, in the ways you want to, gives you more control over it.

[Fenton laughs.]

Fenton, jovial: I’ve never really been one for working out, Doc.

Richards, speaking: Still. We’re all on untread ground here, Danny, but we want to help you figure this out.

Fenton, speaking: Right, right, I know.

Richards, speaking: Whenever you’re ready.

Fenton takes a deep breath and is silent for several seconds.

[11:25:17] Fenton, speaking: Okay. I’m ready.

Richards nods. Fenton closes his eyes, apparently concentrating.

[11:31:46] Fenton, speaking: I’ve got nothing.

Richards, speaking: You said before it felt like a sneeze; is there anything you can do to imitate the feeling?

Fenton, sarcastic: Right, let me just imitate falling through the floor.

Richards, speaking: No need to be upset. I don’t have the same understanding of how it feels as you do. But we did have some theories about how to prompt the response, if you’re alright with me trying them.

[Fenton sighs.]

Fenton, speaking: Yeah, whatever, let’s get it over w—

[11:33:07] Richards interrupts Fenton by clapping her hands together a few inches behind his head, creating a loud noise and startling him. Fenton reacts with alarm, stumbling forwards, and falls through the floor. Daniel was retrieved from the Backrooms 20 minutes later.

—

[Trial 2, January 7, 1990]

[14:37:23] Simone Richards, speaking: Are you still mad at me?

Fenton, speaking: Yes.

Richards, speaking: I am sorry for startling you, but you have to admit it gives us some valuable data. If your phasing triggers in response to being startled or in an attempt to avoid perceived danger, it’s important to avoid situations where those circumstances might come up. And that might give you an edge for triggering the phase intentionally.

[Fenton sighs.]

Fenton, speaking: I guess you have a point.

Richards, speaking: Now, I want to see if we can distinguish whether the phase response is triggered by fear or being startled.

Fenton, speaking: They’re kind of the same thing, aren’t they?

Richards, speaking: Not necessarily. Being startled does typically lead to some temporary fear, but you can have a fear response without being startled—maybe if you know you have a test coming up that you didn’t study for. Hmm, on that note, it may also be worth testing if stress could have an effect.

Fenton, speaking: So, what, you’re gonna have me watch a horror movie and see if I phase?

Richards, speaking: Possibly. For today I thought we’d try to focus on the startle reflex, and see if we can test it with the element of fear more removed.

Richards opens her briefcase and pulls out several items, which she sets on the table: empty balloons, a pincushion, party poppers, and some popping rubber toys.

Richards, speaking: I’ll let you see it coming this time, so it shouldn’t be as frightening as last time, but hopefully enough to startle you.

[14:42:17] Richards inverts one of the popping toys and sets it on the table.

Fenton, speaking: I don’t think this is going to work.

[14:42:51] The toy reverts to its original state and pops up into the air. Fenton jumps slightly, but does not phase.

Richards, speaking: Okay, that’s a good sign.

Fenton, dubious: It is? How?

Richards, speaking: Well, it means you’re not going to be phasing at every slammed door or dropped plate. It would be pretty hard to get you back out into the world if that was the case.

[Fenton pauses, looking down.]

Fenton, muttering: Right. Because they’re definitely going to let me out.

Richards, speaking: Danny, I do want to help you get out of here and back to your life. We just need to make sure it’s going to be safe first, for you and everyone else, and that means understanding your new abilities.

Fenton, muttering: I know.

Richards, speaking: Are you ready to continue?

[Fenton nods.]

[14:45:06] Richards uses a small air pump to fill a balloon and holds it above the table, in Fenton’s line of sight. She picks up a pin and holds it behind the balloon, where Fenton cannot see. After several seconds, she uses the pin to pop the balloon. Fenton jumps but does not phase.

Richards, excited: Oh, excellent! Did you feel the impulse to phase at all during that?

Fenton, speaking: A little, right when it popped, I think, but then it died back down right after.

Richards nods, reaching for the party popper. She holds it above the table, letting Fenton see it. About a minute later, she activates it, and confetti shoots out. Fenton has no apparent reaction.

[14:49:02] Richards, speaking: How was that?

Fenton, speaking: There was a little impulse, but it was tiny.

Richards nods.

Richards, speaking: It’s a small data set, but it’s looking like just being startled isn’t enough to trigger a phase impulse. We can run some tests with isolated fear responses next.

Fenton, excited: Does that mean horror movies?

Richards, amused: It might. You seem awfully attached to the idea.

Fenton, speaking: My parents never let me watch that kind of stuff. If I’m gonna be stuck here, I might as well get something out of it.

[Richards chuckles.]

Richards, speaking: I’ll see what I can do, then.

—

[Trial 3, January 20th, 1990]

Daniel Fenton was shown a variety of horror movies while his response was carefully monitored. At certain points throughout the movie, Dr. Simone Richards asked him about his impulse to phase.

For the sake of brevity, results are consolidated below. The entire 6-hour recording is available upon request.

Film 1: The Shining

Results: Fenton did not phase throughout the movie, though did report heightened impulse to phase during latter portions of the movie, specifically during Jack’s rampage. Fenton described the impulse as “not very strong, but I can’t quite get rid of it either. Sort of like being in bed and having the feeling I left my bike outside, and I can’t stop thinking about it until I check.” Fenton jumped and appeared nervous at several points throughout the movie, largely coinciding with periods of high tension in the movie, and reported higher impulse to phase during these moments.

A rest period was given after the movie, and after twenty-three minutes, Fenton reported that the impulse had subsided to normal levels and testing continued.

Film 2: Jaws: The Revenge

Results: Fenton did not phase, and reported that his impulse to phase did not deviate from normal levels throughout the film. He did not appear to be significantly scared or unnerved by the movie.

A break of fifteen minutes was given before starting the third film.

Film 3: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2

Results: Fenton seemed frightened throughout most of the movie, and reported a strong impulse to phase throughout, especially during scenes of high tension in the film. Dr. Richards suggested ending the trial early 40 minutes into the film, but Fenton protested this and insisted on continuing. At one hour and thirteen minutes into the movie, Fenton startled at an onscreen jumpscare and phased through his seat and the floor.

Fenton was recovered from the Backrooms twelve minutes later and the trial ended for the day.

–

Conclusion: Initial results suggest that Fenton’s impulse to phase is triggered by a combination of fear and being startled rather than by either element on their own. Protocol for researchers working with Daniel Fenton has been updated to include announcing one’s presence to avoid startling him when possible.

This also provides a potential avenue for testing whether Fenton can phase intentionally, which could further open possible testing into whether he can phase out of the Backrooms as well as into them. The logistics of such an experiment are complicated, since it is impossible to determine where in the world Fenton might emerge, but once he has sufficient control of phasing into the Backrooms, it may be more feasible. Experiment design discussion is ongoing.

On February 3, 1990, a team of researchers mapping out the Backrooms found what appeared to be a human corpse. Autopsy found that the corpse was infected with a mutated strain of hay bacillus bacteria, very similar or identical to the strain found in samples from Daniel Fenton.

It is not yet known whether the bacteria was the cause of death. Until there is conclusive evidence that the bacteria is not lethal, quarantine measures on Daniel Fenton have been revised to be more rigorous. All tests relating to Fenton’s phasing ability have been suspended to minimize recontamination risk, and he has been instructed to resist phasing as much as possible.

Fenton has also been started on a course of antibiotics as was initially advised following his accident.

On the morning of February 9, 1990, Daniel Fenton was discovered unresponsive in his room. Initial evaluation found he had a fever of 101.4 Fahrenheit, and he was quickly taken to the facility’s medical department. However, before significant care could be administered, Fenton phased through the floor. Unlike in previous incidents, where Fenton has phased through furniture, the medical cot and IV stand also phased with him, as though a section of the floor became momentarily intangible.

Search began in earnest to recover Fenton before his illness became fatal, but no trace of him was found, and it was considered unlikely he could navigate back to the threshold in his current state. Regular patrols continued to keep a lookout for Fenton in case of a time distortion involved with his phase, but exploratory search missions were called off after 3 days.

On February 21st, 1990, Fenton approached one of the regular patrols on foot, disheveled but in apparently good health. Fenton was quickly taken to medical and given a full checkup, where he was found to be fully recovered from his fever.

Fenton was interviewed about his experience from his cot in the medical department once his condition was determined to be stable. Interview log follows.

—

Simone Richards: Well, you’ve certainly given everyone a scare this time.

Daniel Fenton: Hi, Doc. How long’s it been this time?

Richards: Eleven days. Do you know how long it was on your end?

Fenton shakes his head.

Fenton: All I can remember at the start is blurry. I remember falling in, but after that it’s just flashes of yellow for a while, whenever I managed to wake up. Then I know it was a few days where I could stay awake, but felt like trash, before I could get up and make it back.

Richards: And how long did it take you to make it back?

Fenton: That was a couple days too, I think. Hard to tell since it’s not like there’s nighttime in there, but I was way farther out than I’ve ever been before.

Richards appears lost in thought for just over a minute.

Richards: Overall, this seems to be a much more intense phase than those you’ve had in the past. Unfortunately, without more testing, I’m not sure what might have brought it on, your illness or the length of time since your last phase. For that matter, we don’t know what caused your illness; that and the intense phase might have both been the result of resisting your phase impulse for such a prolonged time.

Fenton: What, so I have to phase now?

Richards: I’m not sure. Like I said, it’ll take some additional testing to know for sure. But whatever it is, we’ll figure it out and find some way to keep it from happening again.

—

Following the incident, Daniel Fenton was given two weeks to recover without restrictions, and phased three times. At the end of the two weeks, when Fenton was apparently back in good health, the strict restriction on phasing was reinstated and Fenton was put under close watch. Fenton successfully went without phasing for three weeks, with the only negative side effects reported being more frequent phase impulses and difficulty concentrating. At no point did Fenton develop a fever, become unresponsive, or fall ill in any way, suggesting that disuse of his abilities was not the cause of his illness. This leaves the other significant change in Fenton’s care over the weeks preceding the incident, the course of antibiotics he was placed on, as the most likely cause.

While the exact nature of Daniel Fenton’s bacterial infection is unknown, the fact that this episode was preceded by consistent antibiotic administration suggests that the bacteria may now be essential for Fenton’s continued health. Moving forward, antibiotics are not to be administered to Fenton unless absolutely essential, and his current infection level should be treated as a healthy baseline for him. Research into the nature of the bacteria to determine its infectiousness and potential harm is now top priority; until conclusive results are determined, quarantine procedures for Daniel Fenton are to be strengthened.

[Read on AO3 and follow the series if you have an account!]

#the backrooms #danny phantom #kane pixels backrooms #backrooms found footage #backrooms phantoms #crossover #zen talks #zen writes

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ebonyslasher · 11 months

Text

Tremble: A terrible hesitance

Wrote a drabble from an art post inspired by the artist @champuraddo. I fell in love with their art style, especially how handsome Daniel was. Couldn't stop thinking about it. Please check it out and give them love!

There's a twist at the end~

___

With controlled shallow pants, Daniel runs into the safety of the shadows. Ironic considering many were scared of the dark. For Daniel, he finds comfort. His back makes quick contact with a random wall, near a corner, and stands still.

This was hell.

Yet again, he was hiding and killing. Something that was beginning to become an unwanted routine. Something completely opposite of who he was....he thinks. He still wasn't sure of who he was. This time, he faces against one of the worst hunter types he's ever experienced. A thrill-seeker. One who loved the chase, the danger, the probability of losing their life in a gruesome way. Thrill-seekers were astoundingly aggressive, capturing the essence of a dangerous knucklehead. Adrenaline compounds relentlessly through their body.

'Their synapses have to be exhausted by now,' Daniel thought bitterly. Although foolish, they were incredibly intimidating. They struck fear into Daniels' soul.

Hearing his excited stomps, terror takes over Daniels' body. Anxiety causes him to sweat and his throat constricts. His body feels cold, but hot. His zenith blue eyes observed the dusty ground.

"Here, kitty kitty!" activates his body to tremor. The only way to end this was to kill him. But, he just couldn't!

The faint sense of rough, sturdy hands softly clasps his jaw. The touch is familiar, which causes him to calm marginally. Still looking down he hears, "Come on, Danny. It's you or them."

Daniel wishes to comment on how Leo says that all the time but doesn't. Can't. Instead, he brings his soft and shaking hands to Leo's wrist. He squeezes. The feeling of frustrated tiredness fills his heart. Eyebrow scrunched, he quietly declares his hesitance.

"I- I can't do this anymore, Leo. I can't.. I can't..I can't." He continuously chants, each whisper more painful than the last.

With hard eyes, Leo stares at Daniel. This breakdown was ill-timed. Daniels' (and Leos) life was on the line. When Daniel became like this, Leo had no idea what to say or do. Being too harsh on him doesn't work. Yet, being a comfort doesn't seem right either. So, Leo opts for the most neutral response he can muster.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it? Hold your hand while you kill them?"

Daniel finally looks up, hopeful that Leo would do just that. Tears flowing down his face, his eyes gleamed at Leo's suggestion.

'This guy really took me seriously. He really must be scared shitless,' Leo thought.

With exasperation, Leo stated," I'm joking Daniel."

Daniel hangs his head in disappointment as he continues to cry.

'So dramatic........this dumbass!'

Before Leo gave in and took control, a resounding boom forces them to duck further into the corner.

A cloud of debris hovers through the air as the image of the burly hunter cleared through. His stubby muscular legs contorted painfully over the recess of the broken wall. Blood splatter glosses the debris, the floor, and the wall.

What the-

Before the duo could investigate, the image of snow white hair floats in their vision. As more of the air clears, they could make out a short figure standing over the corpse.

Who was this person?

#daniel lamb #leo kasper #manhunt 2 #my oc #based on art #champuraddo #thank you for drawing this

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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year

Text

Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: See you in March!! -Danny

Words: 1,746

Phase Five Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Phase

Listen to: ‘Shampoo bottles’ -by Peach Pit

xxxv: Cliffhanger

"What's in your bag?"

Cat snatched the satchel out of Kate's hands. "You don't wanna see that."

"What is it?"

"Your head."

"What?" Kate tried to take the bag again, but Cat moved it out of reach.

"Don't! I don't know how strong the spell is, better to leave it alone..."

"Oh! Before I forget..." the archer searched in her pocket: M.O.U.S.E. "You took it off and Sergei didn't bother to take it."

"You kept it!" Cat grabbed the earpiece and gaze at it with adoration. Sergei had taken her suit and her spear, but Tony's gift was still hers.

"Mouse, give me a flea."

The A.I. dropped a miniature drone on her palm, she put it on the sole of her shoe.

"Grant access to Kate Bishop," she pointed the earpiece at the girl's face so it could scan her. "Say your name."

"Kate Bishop?"

"Access granted."

"Why can't I get access?" Peter asked in hurt. He was now in the backseat, wearing his mask.

"Because you have Edith, don't be greedy."

"So now what, you kill me?" Kate asked.

"We should wait for nighttime," Cat looked out the window. "So we don't get unwanted attention."

"And once that's done then what?"

"You track down the flea I have on," she explained. "You'll see where Russo's taking me every time I hand in my homework. Spider-man will be wearing my old suit— you know where the sonic grenades are?"

"Yeah I remember, you used one on me once," he huffed.

"Alright. You do that, and then you get the remote," Cat pointed at Kate. "And we free Kurt. Easy."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'll release myself with Wanda's powers," she explained vaguely. "If that doesn't work Webs here can release me."

"Okay," Kate replied.

Cat could feel Peter staring at the back of her head. "What?"

"What do we do about Russo and Sergei?" He questioned.

"They're mine," she said shortly.

Peter hummed, looking out the window. "They are your bad guys..."

"You're not coming to L.A. with me, are you?" Kate asked her as soon as Peter left them alone.

Cat avoided her eyes. "Do you really think now's the time to talk about this?"

"I might not know you as well as Spider-man does, but I can tell when you're avoiding a question."

"I'm not avoiding it."

"Then answer me."

Cat stopped what she was doing.

"I can't leave. That city's the only home I've ever known— and I know I could be happy elsewhere," she added before Kate could. "But I don't want that. I refuse to be chased out of my city."

Kate stared at her hard. Her fist clenched around nothing. "You could be happy if you wanted to. I would love to be enough for you..."

The mutant approached her and held one of her hands.

"You're way better than I ever was, Kate. You deserve more than the crumbs I can give you. Yeah, I could be happy... I might be happy after this. But only after this is done."

Kate hugged her. "Why do you have to be so freaking difficult?!"

Cat chuckled, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I've always been a Stark at heart."

Kate's acting while pretending to kill her had been a bit dramatic, but now they had Peter doing background noises, so it sounded like a formidable fight that the archer eventually lost. Cat went as far as to say very loudly that she would kill her own parents to save Kurt's life. Although she didn't know if that was such a big deal considering she'd never met them.

As soon as the show ended, the trio shared a silent look. It was time. Cat grabbed their hands, and teleported them to the rooftop of her building, her collar activated right away. Kate signed "GOOD LUCK" and Cat's only response was "LOOK AFTER MOUSE."

Spider-man didn't move, he was acting strange, so she just waved at him briefly before going to her apartment.

Sergei blindfolded her, she was once again thrown at Billy's feet with her bloody satchel in her hands.

"Let me see."

Cat drew out the head with shaky hands, she looked at it, and gently placed it on the floor. She crawled away as soon as it was in sight.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Russo asked mockingly. "Such a well-behaved kitten..."

"Are you going to release Kurt?" She questioned boldly.

Kraven laughed. "He's mine."

Kurt groaned above them, he wasn't speaking at all and she worried he might've fallen back into a feral state, the one they'd both been in when they were children. Cat looked at the men with annoyance, but she didn't argue.

"Finally, she learns to be quiet!" Billy smirked. "I feel merciful, Kat. You won't kill anyone else this month. But that means you'll have to do twice as much next time. Any ideas, Kraven?"

"I think Stark's daughter and Mr. Keener are next."

"Great choice! What do you think, Katrina?"

She saw a shadow on the rooftop, Cat tilted her head.

"I think you've been in control for long enough."

Spider-man threw the grenade between her and the men. The lights and noises startled them as it was supposed to, and Kate, who was held by Peter on the roof, was wearing M.O.U.S.E so her ears remained safe and she didn't lose focus.

The young archer shot an explosive arrow at Kurt's cage, right on the lock. Peter shot a web at it and pulled it toward them. He and Kate seized it as quickly as possible. Russo reached for Kurt and Cat's remotes. Feeling disoriented and in pain, but still able to move, Cat charged against him. Kraven roared like a madman and captured her by the back of the neck.

Kate shot a sonic arrow and they got thrown to different sides. The mutant stopped hearing. Spider-man came down in stealth and they watched as the remotes lifted themselves up in the air and away from Russo. Kate had released a half-blind Kurt from his enclosure by the time Peter came back to the roof, he carried them out the wide window with almost no effort.

Cat waited until they were out of reach, her collar beeped as it deactivated, but it didn't open. She didn't hear it but she felt the vibration against her neck. Then she grabbed the sonic grenade and closed her fist tightly, breaking it with her bare hand.

"If you're going to keep your pets on a leash," she spoke, struggling to hear herself. "Make sure they don't chew it off."

She reached for her inhibitor knowing it would blow up as soon as she tried to rip it off. Her fingers had just wrapped around it when a blue blur appeared in front of her, grabbed her by the waist, and teleported her out of the building.

Kurt fell on top of her.

"No!" She pushed him away, and Kurt rolled over coughing blood. "They have to die!"

"Edith, activate Scooby-Doo protocol," Spider-man walked away from them and back to the edge of the building, she wasn't able to hear what he was saying so far away.

"You're an idiot," Kurt said weakly, but she could read his lips. They were on the rooftop of an old building. "You really thought Spidey wouldn't pick up on what you were trying to do? He told me as soon as he got me out."

"I was going to die so you didn't have to keep fighting them!"

It felt like all they'd done was for nothing. Sergei would go missing again, and the next time they would kill all of her friends themselves.

Kurt was in a terrible condition but he managed to sit up without help. "Where you go I go, and I really don't feel like dying yet... though I feel a little dead right now."

Kate knelt next to him to check his injuries, Spider-man following close.

"We should take Kurt's inhibitor first," Kate said, her voice sounding like she was behind a wall. "Jesus, look at his neck— all the fur's been scorched..."

"Have you ever minded your own business, Webhead?" Cat asked in a bad mood.

Peter barely reacted to her question. "Yeah, for almost two years. Then my ex-girlfriend tried to kill me, then she tried to kill herself, and I had to go back to my bad habits."

"How did you know?" She pressed.

Spider-man stopped and looked at her. "How could I not know? Every time things get hard your first reaction is to jump off a cliff. You got all your memories back, you should've known better than to do what you always do."

"Honestly I'm starting to understand why Clint can't stand her," Kate muttered.

"Oh yeah, she loved being a bully for the older Avengers—"

Cat groaned, she let her head fall back against the ground and stared at the sky in annoyance. "They're getting away..."

"No they're not, my spiders are following them," he pointed at the glasses he was wearing over his mask. The hero groaned in frustration then, lifting the remotes. "These control the on and off and the shocks system... I don't know how to deactivate the explosives."

"Get out of the way," Cat sat up, nudged them aside, and did what the witch had advised her to do: She messed with magic she didn't really understand but could control out of instinct.

The inhibitor was there, but in the blink of an eye, it looked... different. Cat snatched it off Kurt's neck. Kate and Peter swore loudly, and Kurt hissed, but Cat lifted the broken item triumphantly: She'd turned the collar into ordinary plastic.

"Remind me to send Wanda a thank you note," Kate breathed, looking at the broken inhibitor as Cat threw it aside.

"That was awesome!" Peter laughed. Cat smiled a little, at heart he was still the same boy she'd known at fifteen.

A loud beeping startled them, Kate shielded Kurt and Cat looked around in confusion.

"That's— is that your collar?" Kurt tried to get closer but he was too weak to push Kate away.

She looked down, but the noise wasn't coming from her. She and Peter recognized the sound at the same time. "Who's got my bag?"

"I figured you'd want it back," Peter had it hanging on one shoulder. He placed it on the ground in front of her. "That beeping... I lost mine years ago!"

"You didn't lose it," Cat stuck her hand inside the bag, pulling out her beeper. The object was blinking and making loud static noises as if someone were trying to reach out. "I gave it away... to the other you."

"Who?" Kate asked in confusion.

Spider-man understood what the mutant was saying.

"He's here?"

A new beeping initiated, this one coming from her inhibitor: A countdown had appeared on the side.

Next Phase—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic

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phoomwhoosh · 11 months

Note

#Let Me Get That For You

Your latest chapter… My gosh I love that Mr. Miyagi is stepping in and much quicker this time…. Smart move on Terry’s part to have him escorted out because

1. Ha Ha! He’s afraid of the Keebler Elf!… and he should be.

2. This has all the feels of a Father confronting the unwanted suitor and he absolutely cannot handle Mr. Miyagi in Father mode.

Kick his ass again Mr. Miyagi!!!

And I love that romantic shit goes right over Daniel’s head.

The one thing I’ve always wanted to see in your fics is Terry’s POV. What is going on inside this madman’s head that he thinks Daniel would be so willing to forgive him and give a relationship a try?

I think Terry wants him willing, but knows he’ll never have that (yet at the same time is unable to face that), so he settles for Daniel’s fear. As much as he gets off on hurting him, he ultimately wants him willing.

Somewhere in all this he blames Daniel for his feelings and wants to punish him for it. Which is why ends up hurting him.

One stalker in a movie told his victim “if you won’t love me, then you’ll fear me.”

I feel like that’s Terry’s mentality in most of your fics.

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic so much! I'm putting my responses under a cut for length:

Mr. Miyagi doesn't want Daniel to have to deal with Terry's antics anymore. He really is going into Father Mode and it kills him that he can't legally do anything yet. (I don't think Miyagi's willing to do prison time......yet. XD)

Daniel being oblivious to anyone's feelings is honestly fun and a little sad to write. Like, he can love with all of his heart but does not often expect that from others.

Writing Terry's POV is something that I've been tempted to do in the past.....maybe one day hehehe

But you definitely hit the nail on the head with this Terry! He really does want Daniel to be willing but, since he isn't, he starts going for the fear factor. After all, Danny boy does look so pretty when he's frightened. But then he sees that somebody else has hurt Daniel and the urge to see him afraid is replaced by anger that he's been hurt by another person.

I've always believed that a part of Terry really liked Daniel (romantically or platonically, whichever is your flavor) but his loyalty to Kreese was unshakable so he stuck with the plan to betray Daniel. However, once that loyalty is shaken...

Also, apologies for taking so long to answer this one. I've had it in my drafts and just haven't had time to respond properly until now.

#in which you ask and i eventually answer #let me get that for you

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fruggo · 3 years

Text

the boys x tough f!reader (part 2)

requested by : @dranonymous

i love this idea and i hope you all enjoy part two! :D here’s part 1 with the original request.

warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, dwight is really cute, danny is an asshole, jake is that cute “stoic man who is actually caring and thoughtful” trope because i say so

𝐃𝐖𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

you are so cool. like ,,,,,so cool

dwight admires you so much. you just got here and yet you are breaking pyramid head’s ankles—dodging his trail of torment left and right, the killer just can’t touch you.

and how did you feel about everything? terrified, honestly, but nobody would ever be able to tell because you didn’t let it get to you. it was like you had already been here before, because the second you learned how to do something, you had it down no problem. fixing generators came naturally, and you could also run the killer for the whole trial if you had to. teammates could easily rely on you to do whatever needed to be done.

that was what made you and dwight such a powerful duo. from the moment you met, you knew you felt comfortable around this guy. he was sweet, maybe a little timid sometimes, but he knew how to step up and be a leader for everyone despite his fears.

you both knew what to do, and you fit together like a glove. your minds worked in very similar ways, which made communicating that much easier and efficient; the second a decision needed to be made, dwight was on top of it, encouraging the teammates and helping them get on their feet. you were already ahead of them, so dwight would just nod to you, knowing you could do your job well.

of course, there were times when dwight’s anxiety got the better of him, and you had to be the one encouraging him.

dwight hated the hag. despised her. he could not stand her jumpscares when a trap was triggered, he would swear he was about to have a heart attack. he couldn’t admit this at first, but you figured it out when feng min was hooked and dwight stuck to the generator, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. he always went for the saves, so something was obviously wrong.

“dwight? why don’t you go save her?” you asked, eyeing him from your side of the generator.

he didn’t respond, looking over his shoulder again.

you decided to rescue min, but when you got back, you were going to chew dwight out until he gave you a straight answer.

you crawled up to the hook to avoid triggering a trap and gently lowered min to the ground. the two of you inched away carefully until you were far enough away to patch her wound.

“dwight, get off your ass and answer me,” you demanded (affectionately) once you were back at the generator, which was nearly finished. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes conveyed nervousness in every sense of the word; they darted all around, searching for any incoming danger. this was your first time seeing him like this, so you were confused. was he alright?

“it’s just…the hag,” he started, still fiddling with the wires. “her traps, i can’t…”

oh. was he anxious about the traps?

“i just can’t deal with them,” he finally said with difficulty. that was understandable; when they caught you off guard it definitely made you leap out of your skin.

“dwight, listen,” you said. “you’ve dealt with every other killer in this realm, haven’t you? you’ve bested the nurse, the huntress, micky myers, and even the spirit, who’s a bitch. i know hag’s traps are fucking terrifying, but you’re dwight! you are a leader, and you are good at being a leader. you can get out of here, i promise. and besides, with me here, you have nothing to worry about. i’ll kick that witch’s ass, got it?”

your very inspirational speech got him to smile. you were right, anyways—you could definitely kick the hag’s ass. what could go wrong?

nothing, actually. genuinely nothing went wrong. you took chase for the rest of the trial so that dwight didn’t have to worry about a thing, and everybody escaped with no problem. he didn’t understand how you were so good at evading capture—but perhaps you would tell him about your past eventually. you hadn’t yet decided.

back at the campfire, you and dwight comfortably sat side-by-side, patiently waiting until your next trials.

“thanks,” he said.

“for what?”

“for that very motivational speech you gave me,” he laughed.

you wiped imaginary dust off of your shoulder, giving him a confident smile. “i got your back. and man, that hag lady really is a bitch, huh? i can see why you hate her.”

that comment unintentionally caused one of dwight’s long, angry rants about his least favorite killer, and all you could do was watch him and listen with a soft grin on your lips. you’d never seen him angry before—it was adorable. made you wonder if you should just piss him off for fun sometimes.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊

this guy has hella respect for you

you’re independent and easy to teach, and that’s everything he could ask for.

now and then, the other survivors basically gave newbies to jake to teach them everything about the realm—they considered him the expert on all things survival. you were one of those newbies he was forced to take care of.

jake normally hated teaching new survivors more than anything, because it was never his choice and they were all so difficult. but you were different. you were responsible, reliable, and smart, and it made his job so much easier. as time went on, he grew to be quite fond of you.

word eventually got out that the new girl had managed to charm jake out of his “hermit ways,” but he insisted that it was not true (he also disagreed about the “hermit ways” part). it was never spoken of between the two of you, but it definitely floated around in the air waiting to be addressed.

it really couldn’t be ignored any longer. anytime you were seen anywhere within 24 feet of each other, the other survivors would give you looks and wiggle their eyebrows or shoot you a thumbs up—all of which were unwanted. it created a weird tension between you and jake that wasn’t there before, and you really didn’t like it.

you missed when you were first starting out, and jake had just realized how competent you are. those days were fun—he respected you a lot; you could see it in his face when he looked at you. you always knew when he was pleased and when you did stuff right, because he would have the tiniest, most subtle grin on his face, but you could see it, and it made you feel accomplished.

you knew he still respected you, but you had basically jumped the learning curve of the realm and quickly adapted to every killer, every challenge, and every task. how you did it, nobody could ever know. but you were almost sad, because there was kind of no reason for you and jake to spend a lot of time together anymore. if you did, then everybody would freak out for the wrong reasons, and it would ruin your friendship.

so what if you had a few small feelings for him? no one gave a shit—you knew jake probably wouldn’t give a shit. to him, you were just another annoying survivor he was forced to teach. besides, you didn’t have time for that kind of thing.

man, were you wrong, though. he really, really wanted to be around you, but you already knew everything, so he didn’t know what to do to spend time with you. his way of initial bonding was sharing knowledge, but that had already been done, so…what now?

then came the one trial that changed everything.

it was normal at first. the killer, blight, was doing well, so you had to step up your game. one generator was completed and he had 4 hooks on three different people—you were the only one not hooked yet.

he was after you, and you were expertly dodging every rush and swing he threw your way. unfortunately, you accidentally ran to the generator that jake was working on, and things got a little complicated.

when the blight rushed at the wall, then at you, jake ran towards you while you ran towards him—you were both looking over your shoulders—and alas, bonk. you crashed into each other.

oh, no!! how terrible!! looks like jake fell on top of you :/ what an unfortunate situation to be in /s /s /s /s /s

wowwww near proximity ! you’d never been so close before and it was awkward but nice (?)

then you remembered there was a crazy drug addict or whatever over there and he was chasing you, and the moment was ruined. jake quickly rose and pulled you up with him, and you went in opposite directions, both nervous and wide-eyed now.

lol

after that, the trial went quite south. everybody was sacrificed. perhaps the loss could be partly attributed to you and jake avoiding each other like the plague. but who knows, right?

back at the campfire, you began feeling overwhelmed by all the weird stuff happening lately, so you excused yourself to the edge of the woods to have some quiet time to yourself. a few minutes later, jake came to check on you bc he is a fucking gentleman and yes i will die for the “stoic man who is actually caring and thoughtful” trope. fuck you

it’s slightly awkward at first, but then you start talking like normal and things feel a lot better. a little bit of the tension eases away, but not completely. what the fuck do you do with feelings like this?????

you simply composed yourself as best you could. it would have to do.

now that you felt a little more normal (lie), you trekked back to the campfire to wait for your next trials side-by-side. there was no one you felt more comfortable with or more respected by than jake. he appreciated you for your competency, and that was one of the best things you could ask for.

and to your surprise, jake actually took your hand and laced your fingers with his own. and it felt nice. never in your existence would you have thought he would be okay with displaying public affection, but you smiled up at him and gave his hand a light squeeze.

maybe the entity gave him drugs.

or he just liked you that much. either one would make sense.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny hated you. he really did.

you were so unbothered, so calm, so good at knowing what to do. it really pissed him off.

you got so much attention from the other survivors for your skill and that really pissed him off too. it’s not like you cared or wanted it or anything, but how dare they even touch you when you so clearly belonged to danny?

…who knows wtf that even means. so anyways-

when you realized how much time danny spent chasing you in trials when he should have been patrolling generators, you began to get suspicious. especially when he would take you to the hatch and then close it in your face, watching you die to the entity. he obviously had some kind of beef with you.

you were determined to find out what he had against you, so you began to tease him a bit in chases. your favorite and most frequent phrase was something like, "can't catch me? lil baby man? lil baby? lil baby man gonna cry?" you were really testing your luck with that one, and that's why you loved it.

once, you told him his fly was down, and he actually fell for it, making you nearly keel over in laughter. you got moried without even being hooked after that.

despite the horrors that frequented this place, you were never in a crisis about it. you simply learned what had to be done, and then you did it, much to the chagrin of danny. you had skipped the big "useless baby survivor" phase, and that one was his favorite :( he loved trials with new survivors because it was so easy and fun!

but alas, from the beginning, you were always on top of things, always slamming pallets onto his head or saving teammates with a flashlight.

oh, don't even get him started on your flashlight usage. you were the absolute worst to go against--every pallet stun, boom: danny's eyes fucking burned out. every time he picks up a survivor, boom: danny's eyes fucking burned out. you were a bitch with that item.

he finally began to get so fed up with your behavior that he decided you must be taught a lesson. somehow, countless mori and tunneling and camping incidents had not even managed to bother you. you literally did not care. but he had something different in mind this time.

the realm was haddonfield, of course. all of the killers despised this map, and for good reason--you ran danny around the entire neighborhood for three generators. did he have to chase you? no. but he needed to for himself.

he finally caught you in a dead zone, rejoicing to himself as you fell to the ground in defeat. "wow, that was a good chase," you mumbled under your breath, feeling accomplished. one of your best against danny, probably.

you were expecting him to pick you up, but instead he snatched the flashlight from your grasp and chucked it as far away as he could. and before you could protest, he pulled you up to stand again and yanked you towards himself, gripping your wrists so tightly you swore it left bruises.

"what's wrong...lil baby man?" you said with a pout, trying not to laugh. "is baby man angry?"

you were slightly scared if you were being honest, but you couldn't let him know that.

danny sighed. you really didn't know when to stop, did you?

"bitch," he spat, voice dangerously quiet. "cut that shit out."

"what shit?"

he squeezed your arms tighter, provoking an "okay, okay, i get it!" from you.

"do you?"

"sure. what's the worst you could possibly do to me anyways?" after those words left your mouth, you got a weird feeling that the killer was smiling behind his mask.

"listen, uhh, danny, is it?" you said, putting as much nonchalance into your voice as you could. "i just wanna know why you hate me so much. remember that time you closed the hatch in my face? the fuck was that for?"

he frowned at the use of his name but responded regardless, "you're a little bitch, and you deserved that."

you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. "ouch. that one hurt."

"i can make you hurt a lot more," he said darkly. you probably should have been scared, but you just really couldn't take him seriously.

so you laughed. it shouldn't have been funny, but it just was and now you couldn't stop. "you're just--you--i can't--" you wheezed, shaking from the laughter. "i'm sorry, it's really not funny."

danny didn't understand you. anybody else would have been sobbing if he so much as touched them, and here you were acting like it was a joke.

what could he do if you truly were not afraid of him?

perhaps it was time to let it go.

while his guard was down, suddenly you reached above his head and plucked his mask off, revealing his face and continuing your bouts of laughter at his shocked expression.

you threw the mask in the same direction as the flashlight, composing yourself and putting your hands on your hips. "you look pretty nice," you said, nodding.

wow. what the hell was danny supposed to do with you? perhaps the only completely unbothered, completely unserious survivor? he knew you were smart, and you knew what you were doing. he didn't even want to kill you anymore, you were just that fascinating.

that trial ended in you standing at the exit gate, your finger and your thumb in the shape of an L on your forehead. danny couldn’t care less at this point--he was done with your shit. but somehow he still liked you, and this definitely would not be the last time you saw him without his mask.

#requests #fruggo writes #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #jake park x reader #jake park #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #dwight fairfield #dwight fairfield x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd headcanons

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Uncertainty in the Household

Picture Perfect Series

TW: talk and action for miscarriage, slight manipulation

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: I wanted to explore the reader and Danny’s relationship in this chapter, so i hope you like it, first part is p rough with the whole miscarriage, so you're free to skip to after the second - if you're uncomfy with that

Tears fall into your palms as your fingertips dig into your scalp, your belly- while still early in the pregnancy, still feels as if it’s protruding, and you sit on the shared bed, a faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingers in the air and you’re alone. For now, at least. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were Danny who was the father. You want to kid yourself, to tell such lies that he could be the father, that sleeping with- that being forced into whatever sick game Ghostface has with you- that he didn’t impregnate you. You blame yourself. You should have taken the morning after pill, you should have purged yourself of everything and anything to make sure that you didn’t let yourself have his child. Your stomach twists and turns, a thin veil of acid on your tongue and you wonder how to explain this to Danny. If you even should. It’s still early, maybe you could get rid of the child before anyone has to know. Your eyes widen and you sit up, your eyes scanning the room and you let out a breath, nodding to yourself.

You can get rid of the child. No one knows. You made sure to throw away the pregnancy tests in a dumpster at a park and rip the receipts before anyone could ever see. No one has to know.

Loneliness, while always being your aggressor, has finally worked in your favor. You rush to put on your clothes, ignoring the burning desire to cry, your purse in your hand, you walk to the front door, pausing to leave a note to your partner.

“Went out, I’ll bring dinner.” Something short and simple. Marked with a little heart at the end that makes you feel a bit sick, like it’s something like a lie that you’re telling him. You place the pen down and grab the car keys, rushing down the steps. Each step down the stairs is something that feels heavy, chains around our ankle and the child- no, you can’t call it that. You know you’ll get attached. You’ve heard about the tactics that are used to pressure vulnerable people into keeping their unborn children, and you won’t be one of those. You can’t. Not now and you’re sure not ever. The car purrs to life, the steering wheel a bit too hot from being under the sun and you wait, letting the cool air fan against your already hot body and you reverse out of the parking lot.

You return with tuna, alcohol, fenugreek, a peppermint and aloe vera plant, a thin bag that is filled with peaches, different varieties of caffeine that you can already taste, and pineapple. Your hands ache, the base of your fingers sore from the heaviness of the bags that you stubbornly carried up to the apartment. You were not going to make multiple trips, that much was certain about your day. You hear his voice before you see him, a greeting cut off as he realizes just how much you’re carrying. Danny’s eyes widen, and he rushes off the couch, taking bags away and your palms are redden from the indents of the bags.

“Are we having a feast?” His hands are inside a bag and he pulls out wrapped fish, and he stops, turning to you, a tight smile on his lips that you don’t recognize. “I didn’t know you liked fish.” He places it down and watches as you carefully place a clinking bag down onto the table. “Alcohol too, huh? What-” he turns to you, a nervous chuckle filling the space of his words- “Did I forget a special date?”

You shake your head no, already biting into an unwashed peach, trying to ignore how many hands and bacteria have touched the fruit before you. “Just-” you speak with a full mouth and turn your head, covering your mouth with your hand and taking another bite. You swallow and take a gulp of air. “I was just craving fish is all. Why? Do you not like fish?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I- I just wanted soup, and-” your smile falls and he shakes his head. “I can get soup tomorrow. How long until the fish is down?”

“Actually-” you reach into another bag and pull out two containers- “I was able to buy some sushi on the way home.” You pull out a pack and slide the container to him. You spare him a glance as he stares at the sushi with an odd, angry feeling. “Oh, I’m uh, I have tomorrow off, by the way.” You meet his eyes for a minute and he gives you a nod, allowing you to continue.

“You’ve been throwing up lately,” he adds, taking a bite from his plate. Your heart sinks and you try to mask your emotions, turning around to grab a bottle opener from one the drawers. “I’ve been worried, you know. Maybe-” the chair squeaks and when you turn, he’s sitting down, an unopened beer beside his plate- “I should take tomorrow off too and we can go to the doctor. Just to see if you don’t have the flu or-” he tilts his head, his lips twitching- “if it isn’t anything else.”

A part of you wants to tell him your fear. You don’t want to be pregnant, and you hope that if you manifest it enough, it’ll be true. But you also fear that he wants a family and you’ll be the one ruining it for him. Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s just needless worry over a few faulty exams, but you can’t risk it. Not now. Not if it has the chance to be someone other than Danny’s.

With a bottle opener in hand, you walk towards Danny, his eyes on you the entire time. You place the bottle opener beside his drink, a hand on his shoulder and the other brushing back his hair, combing it to the side. His hands leave his meal and rest against your hips, his gaze up at you and there’s a hint of a smile at his lips, and you lean down, pressing your lips over his scar that adorns his forehead.

“We have bills to pay Dan,” you mutter, “at least one of us should be responsible.” You close your eyes tightly to avoid tears spilling over, the hand on his shoulder tightening and when you pull away, he looks unbothered for a moment before giving you a forced smile. “Let’s eat, okay? You can tell me about your day.”

All it takes is one doctor appointment to confirm that you are not pregnant. It was just a scare. And as if life and everything else in control of you wanted to laugh, you bled through your underwear on the ride home. The vomiting in the morning was your body simply pretending to have the signs, your mind so strong that it created a falsehood of pregnancy, just because you were so scared and sure of it.

Life is odd for the moment. You tried so hard to get rid of the unwanted child and they were never there to begin with. You had to go through with the nervousness that consumed you. The call to the doctor, the waiting, the glances that Danny gave you as if he knew something. You wonder if he did know. He isn’t dumb, a bit dense when it comes to your feelings, but he’s smart in a way that matters. You hope that he doesn’t know, for both your sake and his. The little scare will be something that you take to your grave, hoping that it’ll remain just that.

The fan is turned on with a simple swipe of your hand against the light switch, the room filling with white noise. You sit on his couch, your body stiff as if it were the first time that you had visited his home. You still remember how it was. Dirty. You hadn’t expected that from him. There was trash all over, a sort of musty smell and an empty fridge. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed, but rather mildly inconvenienced even though he was the one to invite you over. However, now the place is as clean as it can be, the musty smell now replaced by a slight twinge of alcohol and tobacco, but with an overlapping floral scent from one of your candles. You can’t help but wonder if he minds that you added bits and pieces of yourself into his home. He calls it your home too, almost too eager to make sure that you know that you belong here, but even so, it doesn't feel like your home. It’s too empty, too devoid of your touch. You still feel as if you’re a guest, waiting and cleaning, tending to him when he needs it.

The simple fact of the matter is, this isn’t your home. Your stuff, your personal items that you decorated your home are still in boxes shoved under the bed. You miss your home. “I miss my home,” you say to yourself, tears pricking in your eyes. The rent was cheap, and the landlords were kind enough, but it’s gone. The place scooped up by some stranger and the thought has your stomach rising.

You’ve thought about leaving here. Perhaps not Danny, but maybe that would be a consequence of you leaving. It was too rushed. You were too scared of Ghostface invading your life again. You made a rash decision that the both of you now have to pay for. He lost his space, his privacy and you can tell he holds some resentment, the way he slams the doors close, how he locks the rooms and won’t speak to you until he needs something, until he’s pressuring you to kiss him with a half-hearted apology on his tongue.

You glance at the coffee table, old and cracked, the paint on the wood chipped and revealing the unfurnished finish. The photo frame is cold, a slight layer of dust over it, concealing your nervous smile and Danny’s wide one. He isn't happy, but he’s smiling. You both only have a few pictures with each other. It isn’t much, and you’re surprised that the photographer wouldn’t want more, but it can’t be helped.

The photo is placed back on the table, and you lay down on the sofa, grabbing at the throw blanket that you added. Your arms act as a pillow underneath your weary head, and you stare at the photo, training over how his arms are wrapped tight round you and how close that he holds you.

Daniel walks into his shared apartment with you, and he immediately spots your shoes in a different position than when he left. He frowns, walking further into the apartment, his eyes scan the room, his eyes landing on a crumpled bag of fast food on the table, the drink creating a water ring on the table. It isn’t like you to be so careless.

The drink rattles in his hand, nothing but cold liquid is inside the container. His bag is heavy as he leans it against the wall on the floor, and he finally finds you. You’re asleep on the couch, your body curled with the decorative throw blanket covering your body as the fan spins above.

He lowers himself to watch you, your soft breaths and the way your face is relaxed. You’re asleep and it brings him back to a time where you were under him, where night concealed him and he was able to hover above you. It’s much different now, you’re still scared but he’s able to kiss you, to have you rake your nails down his back and hold his hand as if it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

A calloused hand cups your cheek, your skin soft and blemished with faded scars that he’s studied meticulously night after night. You wake up with his fingers tracing over your face and he doesn’t make a sound, everything about him is stoic and he wonders how you are seeing this situation in your eyes. Are you scared? Do you know? Are you pregnant? What are you thinking of him at this very moment? You blink slowly at him and he’s reminded of a cat, watching and tired, and there’s a burning desire in him that wonders what you would do if he strangled you right now. Slowly, his hand lowers, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbones and down your jawline, touching against your pulse on your neck and he feels it quicken. Your eyes never leave his and he doesn’t look away. He’s sure that he could convince you that it was a joke or that maybe it was just a dream that you had. It’s been a while since you had such a vivid dream.

Your hand creeps from under the blanket and you hold the back of his hand, moving it back to your face, letting your lips press against the side of his palm in a soft kiss. “Danny,” you say in a sleepy voice as your eyes close. “How was work?” Your hand that holds his becomes limp and he watches as it slides down his hand, catching on the cuff of his sweater until it dangles off the couch.

It wasn’t smart of him to invite you to live with him. He was too reckless, too needy and desperate to have you beside him that he just wasn’t thinking. Even if you are naïve and easily pulled into a false sense of security, he can’t just explain his costume, he can’t explain the knife and all the careful cleaning kits that he has. This is all too risky.

But he can’t throw you out either. He’s become attached. You’re like a pet to him now, and as every disgruntled man says on television, don’t name something or else you’ll get attached. And now he’s fallen victim to it. It’s nice to have such an easy fuck around, to know that he cold do whatever he wanted to you and you’ll stay here with him, because the other option is much scarier. The corners of his lips pull upwards and he pulls his hand away, fixing the blanket above you and he rises from his knees with a sigh.

“Another dead body,” he says with a chipper voice that he can’t seem to hide. “All signs point to our residential serial killer.” It’s much too risky to have Ghostface visit you, you thought this as your safe haven, you have to know and think that it still is, but fuck does he miss your fear and how pitifully you cried. “You never told me why you hated him so much.” He has to bite the inside of his cheeks when your brows knit together. “I know he’s a killer, but did he ever hurt anyone close to you?”

Your eyes shift and you pull the blanket closer to you, the folds stretching across your frame and showing the curves of your body. “I’m not sure, I just-” you catch his eyes and he sees you visibly shrink away from him- “I’m scared of his mask.”

His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks about just how frightened you are. “What a shame, I was hoping to get into roleplay.” He could think about you know, how you'd hit and scream, how he could pretend that it was all part of the act and just hold you down, thinking about how you would put the pieces together and sob.

“That isn’t funny,” you say in a high-pitched voice, already cracking and sitting up to lessen the distance between the two of you. He rolls his eyes in response, standing up from his crouch with a hiss between his teeth. “People are dead,” you whine, as if he hasn’t been keeping up with the news with you. “He killed people.” You’re much more emotional than he thought, but you’ve held your mouth for so long, suffered in your silence and in your vulnerability; it's only natural you would have such strong emotions.

“Relax, it was a joke.” He takes off his jacket and tosses it beside you, watching as you pull yourself closer, further away from his jacket and only staring at it with confusion, as if he dared to have the audacity to throw something your way.

“A dumb one,” you say with with a pout, gripping tighter onto the blanket.

“I said relax,” Danny says in a stern voice, already done with the conversation. He may have been the one to start it but he was hoping for a more playful one, or rather one where you go along with him rather than try to fight him.

“Whatever,” you huff, and he sees you bundle the blanket in your arms, pushing yourself to the further end of the couch, looking at the wall with furrowed brows as your hand tries to discreetly cover your pout.

“Great,” he says sarcastically, turning around and walking towards the fridge. “Now, you’re angry,” he says loud enough for you to hear.

He rises back up with a bottle in his hand, toying with the cap, letting the ridges play against his fingertips. You don’t respond and he can feel his anger start to rise, something thick that lodges in his throat and makes it impossible to swallow. You aren’t answering him. Usually this would be a good sign, something that means he still has you wrapped around his finger, but it feels different. You aren’t moving from your spot, and you aren’t apologizing to him. He puts the bottle down, and runs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

“I think,” your voice is small, and he can barely hear it, but he can, “we both rushed into this… relationship. We should have taken it slow.” When you turn to him, he sees that your eyes are wet and you try to take steady breaths but to no avail. “I’m happy with you, but I don’t think we were thinking clearly when we chose to-” your eyes glance around and you look away from him- “to do this.”

His jaw twitches and he watches you, anger boiling inside of him, white-hot that makes it impossible to think and if he could, he'd grab the knife on the counter and stick it in your back but he can’t. Copper fills his mouth and he turns on his heel, the bedroom door slamming behind him, loud enough that he can hear your yelp and loud enough that it makes his ears ring. He wonders what the neighbors would think of it, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’ll find an excuse, he always does.

His name is muted through the door and he rummages through the closet, pulling out a worn backpack and knocking a few clothes off the anger that he steps on. You enter the room just in time to witness him opening your drawer and throwing your things inside without a care.

“Danny?” Your voice sounds so fearful and it makes him stop for a second, and when he looks at you, your foot slides back out of the room. You’re terrified of him right now. “Danny, what are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, as you take a tentative step inside the room.

“You want to leave right?” He asks in a condescending tone, stepping closer to you with the back held tight in his hand. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you pack.”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t you say that we rushed into this?” With every word he stalks towards you and he tosses the backpack onto the bed, only to miss and have it slide down, the contents inside spilling onto the floor. You look away from him and that only adds fuel to the fire that is tarnishing him from the inside. “Didn’t you?” He shouts, slapping his hand on the dresses, rattling your bottles of perfume and creams. He stares at you, his nostrils flared and jaw tight as he tries to keep a sense of composure. “Did you or did you not?” He asks, his voice eerily calm as he lets his nails drag along the wall. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry, Dan,” you cry, your eyes spilling over with tears. “I wasn’t thinking. Please, I promise, it was just a long day and I’m sorry.”

You’re pathetic and not in the way that he wants you. He turns around and you grab his arm, latching yourself around his forearm. His name is on your tongue and before you have a chance to finish it, he turns around, his hand raised, and mouth pulled into an ugly snarl. You let go of him immediately and try to shield yourself, but he aims for the wall instead. His palm stings and you let out a choked sob.

He can’t think. Not with you here. Not with his emotions running so high. Not when his palm stings and there’s something dark brooding inside of him. He takes a deep breath and he forces himself to look at you. You stare up at him with worry creasing your features.

“It's okay,” his words are still tense, but your body lowers its defenses slightly, and he knows he’s on the right track. “I was angry.” He pulls his hand away from the wall and rubs it with his other, the palm of his hand a light shade of pink. “Why don’t we have dinner, huh?” He tries to give you a charming smile, but it falls flat. “We’ll talk about it over dinner. You know-” he reaches for your hand and grabs it in both of his- “like couple’s therapy or some shit. How does that sound?”

You break away from his gaze, glancing at the floor, and he knows your habits and tics by now. You’ll scan the floor, and look up at him and smile and nod. You play your part so well, and if he had to be honest with himself, he can’t lose that. Not yet. Not when you’re so dependent on him and him on you. He waits for our smile, to give you his own to show that he’s okay, that his anger has subsided for now, but you never give him that. Your mouth parts open and there are tears in your eyes, your hand shakes and grows clammy in his. He calls your name, but you don’t respond. Your breath is ragged, sharp inhales and shaky exhales, and he follows your gaze to the floor under the bed.

In the corner of his eye, he spots white and his nails dig into your skin. “Go get me a beer, I’ll-” he looks down at you and your eyes are stuck, glued to the floor where you can see the face that has haunted you- “I’ll clean up, okay? Just give me a moment.” It isn’t enough, you’re still looking where the mask lays, the bottom half of the face peeking from under your undergarments. Your mouth opens in a silent question and when you look back at him, you’re scanning his face. His body runs hot, his mouth going dry and he says the only thing that can come to mind. “I told you I wanted to try roleplay.”

“I thought you were,” you hesitate, and your tongue peeks to wet your lips, “I thought you were kidding,” you say breathlessly, your words slow as if you were hypnotized and the truth of the matter is, is that you are. You’re ruined by the mask that lies on the floor, the mouth of it the only thing that you can see. You peel away from him and have your back turned to him, your arms coming up to give yourself a hug. “I’ll go get you a beer,” you say in a daze, and when you turn back, your smile is weak, and you can’t look at him for long, your eyes magnetized to the mask on the floor.

He’s left alone in the room, his nails digging into the palm of his hands and red in his vision. The worst part of it all is that he can’t go out tonight. Not when you saw his mask. You’re naïve, and easily spooked, but even you could put two and two together. Even your suspicions would start to rise as you questioned why there was a murder the night he went out. Why Ghostface hasn’t come back for you. You’d suspect him and he can’t have that, not when you’re already so fearful of him.

#ghostface #dbd ghostface #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #danny johnson imagine #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #dead by daylight #dbd #i really like this one #mainly the ending #of the chapter

187 notes · View notes

lewdbabies · 3 years

Text

~The neighbor ~

part 2

nanami kentox reader smut

warning: MDNI, 18+, Raw sex , praising kink, Language, Rough sex, Breeding, smut

Part 2

Work was slow as usual, after morning hours the cafe tends to slow down lunch and dinner were served but it wasn’t very popular. Judging by the way Nanami was in a rush earlier it seemed he didn’t have time to stop by for his regular Black coffee. You lean against the register catching up on the latest novel you’d been reading. Your boss is in the back doing “Inventory “ which really meant taking a nap in the office. You glance at the clock perched on the wall, 1:30 pm, you sigh time was dragging on today. You turn your attention back onto your book engrossing yourself in the literature.

“Hello may I see the lunch menu please”

You jump.

You’d been so enraptured by your book you hadn’t even heard the door bell ring.

“Y-yes W-welcome let me grab that for you one second” you slam your book shut and quickly squat down grabbing a laminated lunch menu.

You look up and you’re met with brown eyes.

He smiles grabbing the menu, your hands brush lightly. You’re panicking, this is the first time he’s ever came to the cafe for lunch. He nods walking to A booth furthest from the entrance, you watch in awe admiring his physic. You grab a towel and begin to buss tables giving him time to decide what he wanted. Your eyes keep darting over at him blushing every Time your eyes meet. He doesn’t seem to mind he gives you a small smile in response.

After a while you walk to the register to grab your note pad and pen. You reach in your pocket for your lip gloss dabbing some on before making your way over to his table. He’s looking down, his brows scrunched in focus.

“Is anything looking good” you call out cheerfully.

“Yes you are” his tongue slides across his lips.

“Pardon?” You asked unsure of what you heard.

“I said yes it is” he rubs his chin staring directly into your eyes.

You ignore it deciding you’re just hearing things, He points to a item on the menu.

“This will be fine “ he states.

“The eggs Benedict, Alright and for your drink?” You scribble on your note pad.

“Black coffee should suffice” he nods to himself in approval.

“Alrighty I will have that right up” you rip the paper from your pad and start towards the kitchen.

“Order up!” You call back, sticking the ticket up.

You were in charge of making all the coffee related orders, came with being a barista/cashier. You didn’t mind though, you learned to Create lots of different foam patterns. Coffee making was fun if you made it, you even created a couple secrete menu items of your own.

You reach for a mug, pouring the freshly brewed coffee inside, steam swirls from the cup. You set the mug ontop of your silver serving tray and make your way back to his table. He’s looking through a stack of papers, his briefcase sits open on the table top.

“Here’s your coffee” you grab the glass in an attempt to hand it to him unaware of how hot it is. The glass burns your hand causing you to drop it out of reflex. It crashes down spraying all over Nanami’s suit and paper work.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” You grab a fist full of paper towels frantically trying to clean off his suit. You pat the spilled coffee from his lap, He shifts in his seat.

“Uhn-“ he makes a soft noise catching you off guard.

You bolt up your face is red hot, you look away in embarrassment.

“I-I can pay to have this dry cleaned! Ugh I’m such a klutz-“

He interjects “no it’s fine you don’t have to do that”

“Please allow me too I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t” you bite your lip in guilt.

His eyes darken at the sight of you standing there looking so remorseful and innocent. He looks away for a second debating his next move.

“If you insist, the jacket only will be enough I assure you” he says slowly, sliding his coat off. His arms bulge through his white button down shirt.

He hands you the jacket hesitantly You’re dying of embarrassment.

“I’ll have this back to you tomorrow I swear it” you blurt quickly walking away.

“That coffee was a nightmare to get out kid” The dry cleaner complains.

You give an apologetic look as you sign the ticket finalizing the payment.

“Thanks again For getting it done so quick Danny”

“Yeah yeah yeah next time tell the guy to make the coffee land in his mouth got it” you laugh as you wave goodbye walking out the door. You check your phone , 6:10 pm, Nanami asked you to be there at 5:30 but work held you up today.

Luckily the dry cleaners is around the block from your apartment like most things. Before you know it your apartment entrance is in sight, You push the elevator button. It takes forever as usual, when it finally arrives you walk inside. Nanami lived on the same floor as you just opposite sides. You walk down the hall that connects your building’s searching for unit 12.

Your phone lights up, it’s a text from nanami ‘having trouble finding me?’ You laugh to yourself stopping to type back.

‘Closer than you think’ just as you press send the door in front of you swings open.

You jump with a fright, he sure had a way of scaring you. He’s standing there dressed completely different from how you were use to seeing him. He wore a green long sleeve top, Casual dark jeans , his eyes were covered by strange glasses.

“Come on in” he smirks.

You step over the threshold laying the jacket across his cream couch. His apartment was clean, not regular clean, everything was perfectly in its place. Despite all the lighter themes there wasn’t a spec of dirty anywhere in sight.

“I’m sorry I’m late work-“ you explain

“I understand, would you like a drink “ he disappears into the kitchen, returning with two wine glasses and a bottle of an unknown expensive looking champagne.

“Uh-uh yeah sure”

You sit on the couch crossing one leg over the other nervously. The space beside you dips as he sits next to you. You watch the muscles in his hands twitch as he pours your glass. You squirm in your seat, squeezing your legs tightly together.

‘Is he smirking’ you think to yourself watching him out the corner of your eye.

He hands you the drink before pouring his own. He watches curiously over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip, His stare sends a twitch through your clit.

“You like Austen as well?” He asks, you give a confused look.

He continues “ The book you were reading earlier” you realize he must have caught a glimpse at it earlier.

“Oh, Yes I do she is one of my favorites actually” you admit.

He reaches over tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry im kind of a neat freak I hope I didn’t offend you-“ he doesn’t move his hand away.

“N-no it’s okay” your body is warm, the alcohol creeps up on you slowly. Before you can stop yourself you nuzzling closer into his palm, his thumb strokes your cheek. He slides his hand to the nape of your neck gently pulling you closer as he leans in.

“Is this okay?” He breathes parting his lips.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you glance down at his lips inches from your own.

“Y-yes...” he runs his tongue gently over your bottom lip before capturing them in a hungry kiss.

He briefly breaks away removing his glasses setting them on the coffee table. In one swift motion he grips your waist hoisting you onto his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck in surprise. You lean into him pushing him into the couch cushion his hand travels up your back to your neck pulling you to his waiting lips. “Mmm Uhn-“ He moans slipping his tongue between your lips.

You grind against him the clothing between you becoming an unwanted barrier. His skillful hands slide up your back release your bra clasp, he pulls away flustered and messy hair’d. You lift your arms as he slides your shirt and bra above your head tossing it into the far corner.

“Keep your arms above your head” He orders.

You obey holding your arms up, His tongue attacks your strained nipples. He sucks gently, Using his hand to tease the other, it’s too much to take and your arms drop.

“Arms up or I stop, Little one” you whimper raising your hands above your head.

He sucks your hard bud into his mouth giving it a soft nip sending lighting between your thighs.

“Ah Ah Please mmmnh-“ you plead for more. His hands travel up your skirt pushing your panties aside invading your soaking folds.

“Mmmm so wet already” he brings his fingers to his lips tasting your excitement.

“You’ve been dreaming of this haven’t you, watching me stroke my cock through your drapes at night “ he plunges two fingers inside your slippery hole. You gasp holding back a scream as he finger fucks you slowly.

“Take it out” he demands.

You waste no time unzipping his pants and freeing his pulsing member. You stroke his length admiring how big he is.

“Sit on it” he grips your waist positioning your entrance with his tip. He strokes your slit teasing you making you beg for more.

You grind against him pushing down desperate for him to fill you up. He lets out a feral growl slamming you down on his cock mercilessly.

“Fuck yeah take it, Ah you like the way I stretch your little pussy don’t you” he slaps your ass bouncing you up and down.

He rails into you at a feverish pace, your hips colliding relentlessly.

“ Look at me, Look me in my fucking eyes, show me that pretty face while I fuck you” he groans.

You look at him tears of pleasure staining your face as you get closer to your climax.

He grabs your hair crashing his lips to yours entangling your tongues.

“Ah Ah I’m gonna cum” you cry out, he Drills harder into you biting the soft skin of your neck.

“Cum for me princess, yeah just like that, good girl” he moans.

“Look at me, Look at me, show me how you cum baby, Ah fuck” it sent you over the edge your walls clench around him juices washing over his twitching cock. His eyes roll back as he messily pumps into you filling you with cum. You fall forward, he wraps his arms around you holding you together. You’re both sweat drenched and fucked out depending on each other’s bodies for support.

“You should have spilled coffee on me sooner” he states seriously.

You look at each other in silence before breaking into uncontrollable laughter.

“I agree” you say smiling like a idiot.

~the end💗 comment please tell me who you’d like to see next 🥵🥲

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #sukuna smut #smut #jjk fanfic #nanami fanfic #fanfic #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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flutteringdreams-matw · 3 years

Text

Out of Time 2/?

Sam closed her locker forcefully, spooking the poor freshman down the hall. Her parents had tried, again, to put her in some stupid beauty contest with a ridiculous amount of pink on the poster. Apparently, entering a beauty contest (even if it was to make a statement) and then winning meant more exposure for 'someone in her social standard.' She tried to argue her case, but apart from telling them it was all a ploy cooked up by an evil ghost trying to find a wife (which she couldn't do), she had to promise to at least consider it. Besides, it did have a decent scholarship that she could donate to Jazz if she managed to win (rather…. participate). Some good had to come out of her wearing that unholy colour. One thing was for certain… if this happened… the secret was going to her grave.

"What's got you in a mood?" Tucker joked as he walked toward her. A lot had changed for the trio in the past year; Tucker now stood a good few inches taller than her, but still quite lanky. His love of technology had evolved into more than just hacking, even creating a few hologram machines and working directly with the Fentons on new technology. She herself was a little taller, still very much interested in black apparel, but did try to change her wardrobe up a bit. It did irk her a bit that the boys now towered over her; she had to go to more extravagant lengths to mess with them. Tucker leaned against the lockers smirking, waiting for the Goth girl in front of him to answer.

"Parents," she said, shrugging. "Finish the homework for Lancer?"

"Which one?" Tucker asked drily. "History, English or Science?"

Sam scoffed. "Still can't believe Lancer is teaching 3 out of 4 courses this semester. Let alone having him last semester and most of last year."

Tucker sighed dramatically. "Well Sam, when you live in the most haunted city in America, people tend to pack up and leave. I still can't believe Ishiyama is teaching the Juniors now that most of the teachers quit."

Sam hummed in agreement as she looked down the hall. "Any sign of the clueless one?"

"Why, anything important to confess?" Tucker asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam. She frowned as she pushed the teen into a set of lockers, looking slightly red. "Geez Sam, I'm only kidding. He texted saying he'll be here soon – something about emptying the thermos." Sam nodded absently as they moved down the hallway. Tucker followed her with a frown. "You know I'm not pushing you to do anything right?" he asked, uncharacteristically genuine in his teasing. "Tell Danny whenever you want, but you can't just repress your feelings forever, no matter how Goth you think it is. I just want you guys to be happy."

Sam smiled gratefully at her friend. "Thanks Tuck." They walked in silence, observing Dash and his football cronies tag team putting a couple freshmen into lockers.

Tucker rolled his eyes as he adjusted his beret. "I definitely don't miss that," he said.

"Shame, I'm sure it would be a fun experiment to see if you still fit into one of these little metal boxes," Sam joked darkly. Tucker elbowed her.

"Hey! I'm just glad Danny's ghost fighting muscles made Dash wary about picking on us. I mean, it still sucks for them but I'm glad I only have to worry about ghosts beating us up now."

Sam rolled her eyes at that. "Your priorities astound me," she said sarcastically.

"Sam! Tuck!"

Both teens whirled around to see Danny bounding down the hallway, backpack half open as he ducked past some students. They watched, half amused, as he tripped slightly, regaining his balance and came to a stop in front of them, breathing heavily.

"Morning," Tucker said flippantly. "Good to see you made it before the bell. Long night?"

Danny smiled wryly. Standing to his full height (which Sam only vaguely noticed was almost the same height as Tucker's), he grabbed his backpack and brought it forward, zipping it closed. "Yeah, I overslept and needed to empty the Box Ghost and Skulker into the zone. I can't believe I made it in on time!"

"I'm sure Lancer will say the same thing," Tucker quipped.

"I resent that!" Danny retorted. "I've been on time 4 out of 5 times a week this school year. Gonna end the year on a high." Danny had been grateful to his parents on taking most of the ghosts during the day while he was at school to avoid the amount of absences he racked up. He still handled most of the big ghosts or attacks nearby, but it was nice to have a backup that didn't involve someone trying to waste him.

"So why'd you oversleep anyway – ghost trouble?" Sam asked. The trio used their lack of popularity to speak openly enough in the halls.

Danny shrugged, not quite meeting her eye. "Just a nightmare," he said as they started to head for homeroom. "Didn't get back to sleep for a while so I did Lancer's homework instead."

Sam and Tucker both frowned worriedly. "Another one?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah," Danny said. Sam noticed that he was trying to push through the topic; her brow furrowed as she recognized his tell. "I remember bits and pieces mostly, but nothing concrete." Out of nowhere, Sam grabbed him by the collar and put him up against the lockers. Bewildered, Danny looked down into the accusing violet eyes of his best friend. "Sam!? Wha-"

"Liar," she accused, pointing her finger threateningly. "Was it like the others?" Danny started to make excuses, but she moved her finger in front of his nose and poked him. "Don't play hero right now. Was it like the other dreams?" Some passers-by stopped to watch the commotion, but once seeing it was Sam and Danny, they shrugged and walked by.

Danny looked at Tucker for assistance, but found that he got no sympathy from his best friend. Tucker was also watching him carefully, concerned but fully supportive of Sam's current interrogation technique. Tucker tilted his head, silently repeating the question.

Danny sighed heavily, making Sam release the boy from her vice grip. "Different images this time," Danny admitted, "Felt the same when I woke. Didn't feel like a dream."

"Dude, you need to tell Ethelwulf," Tucker told him.

Danny shook his head. "Not yet," he said, confusing his friends. "It was definitely just a dream. I'm just thinking about it too much and it's making it worse. I'll tell him eventually."

"Once is a dream. Three times is a coincidence."

Sam looked at him worriedly, before sighing in defeat. "If this happens again, I'm telling Ethelwulf myself," she said, walking into Lancer's English class in a huff.

Danny frowned at her demeanour as he watched her go. He glanced at Tucker who shrugged in response. "She's just worried," Tucker told him. "We both are. The last time you thought you were facing him, you almost exploded with power- literally. These dreams- it's starting to be a pattern Danny. It isn't like you've had dreams that predicted battles before."

"Yeah, but that was planted by Fear," Danny said frowning. Tucker gave him a pointed look. "Okay, I see your point. If it gets worse, I'll let him know."

Tucker smiled. "It's all we ask," he replied. Both boys walked into the classroom and headed to the back of the class where Sam was sitting with crossed arms. "Besides, best not to worry Sam. Her fury is enough to give us nightmares for eternity."

Sam's eyes narrowed darkly, but held a bit of humour to them. "And don't you boys forget it," she said menacingly.

:-=-:

Danny floated in front of a darker part of the Ghost Zone, frowning. He was sure this was the way to Clockwork's tower – now, however, it seemed to have distorted, not having a clear sense of direction. "Weird," Danny muttered to himself. He looked down at the map he was currently holding, trying to regain his place. "I'm definitely in the right area." He floated down closer to the Far Frozen, staring at the large swirling vortex in front of him. It shifted again, showing part of Pariah's Keep and Walker's prison instead of the Observant's Headquarters.

Crossing his arms, Danny sighed. He didn't want to admit how much his dreams were bugging him, but Tucker was right. He couldn't ignore them anymore, and if he was worried about his future self escaping, there was really one ghost to ask before he talked to Ethelwulf. Rather… attempt to ask – Clockwork was never one to come out and say anything directly.

"Great One?"

Danny turned at the voice. Frostbite was floating behind him, worry etched in his features. In his thoughts, Danny had floated close to the edge of the Far Frozen's mountainside, where the yeti leader could easily see him from the main gates. "Hey Frostbite," Danny said in greeting, floating towards him.

"I sensed your core as you approached," Frostbite told him, "You've been floating here for a while."

"I had hoped to visit Clockwork," Danny said, looking back at the darker part of the Zone. "Do you know why that area keeps changing?"

Frostbite frowned, looking to the area that Danny was indicating to. "I see you've noticed," Frostbite said seriously. "While the Ghost Zone is constantly shifting, Clockwork's realm shifts more frequently. It's to ward off any unwanted guests."

"But it's always shown the same path for me," Danny argued. He showed Frostbite his map and pointed to where they were. "Past the Observant's Headquarters, through the valley of gears and then his lair."

Frostbite frowned, looking at the map before turning his attention to the young ghost. "Then perhaps the Time Guardian does not wish to see you, Great One."

Danny frowned at that. Clockwork never prevented him from visiting. Annoyingly refuse him help, sure. Perhaps there was something more going on.

"You seem uneasy, Danny," Frostbite probed. Danny looked at him quizzically, recognizing his name rather than the titles Frostbite usually called him. "Our cores are kin; born of a frigid cold that generates from our birth. I'm able to tell when something is bothering you."

"Is it that obvious?" Danny asked drily. They floated for a moment, staring out into the Ghost Zone in silence. "I've been having dreams," Danny admitted. Frostbite said nothing, giving Danny the invitation to continue. "I faced this ghost – an alternate version of me – who was by far the worst ghost I've ever fought. Worse than Pariah Dark even. For a long time, I was afraid of… well… a lot. Facing him. Becoming him. Sometimes, I catch myself checking if I look like him as I get older."

"These dreams you speak of… do you dream of becoming him?" Frostbite asked.

Danny shook his head. "They don't feel like dreams," he said softly, before he could stop himself. "They feel like glimpses of the future."

Frostbite was quiet for a long time before responding. "What do you see Great One?" he asked.

"Battles mostly; at least three different ones. But last night, I saw him. Or I was him? Either way, he was escaping." Frostbite nodded. Danny shifted in his stance, waiting for Frostbite to say something. "It's probably nothing," he added half-heartedly, not wanting to worry his friend. "The last time I really gave him any thought was over a year ago. I'm probably just stressed or worried or something and it's bringing this back up."

"Perhaps," Frostbite mused, still looking out into the Zone. The larger ghost turned to the teen beside him. "Do you remember what I said to you when you were worried about facing Undergrowth?"

Danny nodded. "Fear is natural and charging into battle despite it is what makes you a hero," he summarized.

"It's alright to fear your dreams," Frostbite continued, "But you should not let it consume you Great One. Dwelling on the unknown has caused many a ghost to fall."

"So, you think I'm overreacting?" Danny asked, a tad hopeful.

"It doesn't matter what I think," Frostbite responded quickly. Danny looked down, crestfallen. "It matters what you think. You're discovering new powers daily, focus on the here and now, not the could haves or what will be. Charge into these battles – these dreams – and see what you find. The answer lies with you."

Danny sighed, frowning. "And if they turn out to be just nightmares?"

Frostbite chuckled. "Then you have your answer." Frostbite's small smile fell as he observed the boy in front of him. "Though, I have a feeling you already know the answer."

Danny at looked at him, confused. "What makes you say that?"

"Would you be looking for Clockwork if you truly believed they were only dreams?"

:-=-:

Papers scattered across the Fenton's kitchen table, making Jazz frown in thought. She only had a few more weeks before the deadlines to accept and she still had no clue where she wanted to go to college in the fall. She had no idea how popular her ghost envy paper would be when she wrote it, but to get accepted to all the schools she applied to? She couldn't believe it. Then again, with the appearance of ghosts in the last year and a half, she assumed there were a lack of applicants in the field. Add her last name into it? Yale, Wisconsin, Cincinnati, Fort Eerie, Harvard came knocking at her door.

Jazz turned her attention to the one in her hand, the modest logo of Amity University staring back in the top left hand corner. It was the obvious choice – close to home, she could help out with the ghost fights, study with two pretty amazing scientists and would probably learn more about a ghost's psyche through her brother and his friends than any professor.

"Make a decision yet?" Jazz turned at her mother's voice. Maddie watched her daughter proudly from the top of the basement steps, a small smile on her face.

"No," Jazz whined, shaking her head. "I thought it would be easy to have all the choices laid out in front of me. It's pretty overwhelming."

Maddie nodded knowingly as she walked to the table to join her. "I remember that feeling. You know Jazz, there's not a wrong choice here. Each one of these schools will give you a top notch education. The question you should ask yourself is if you're really choosing the school that's best for you."

Jazz frowned. "Of course I'm picking the best school for me. I'm the one choosing!"

Maddie raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Then why do you have all these letters on the table, but one in your hand?" Jazz looked down at the letter in her hand with wide eyes. "Sweetheart," Maddie said gently, "While I'd love for you to stay here with us, you need to do what's best for you. You're smart, capable and all of these institutions want your brilliance. Don't choose what you think is best for us. We want you to be happy. Danny included."

Jazz sighed. "I know," she said softly. "Danny's said the same thing. I just… I don't want to miss anything. I worry."

"Didn't you argue that your brother is more capable than we give him credit for?" Maddie asked skeptically.

"Well… yes," Jazz agreed.

"And wasn't a large reason you didn't want to leave was cause you were worried about Danny not confiding in us readily?"

"Yeah, I mean, he usually keeps things close to the vest-"

"And that you're just making all these excuses because you're trying to avoid how scared you are to leave?"

Jazz sighed. She looked at the letter to Yale and then back to Amity University, conflicted. "What if I deferred a year? Learned a bit more about the family business?"

Maddie sighed, then smiled gently at her daughter. "Choose your own path Jazz; we'll support you no matter what." Jazz smiled back and engulfed her mother in a hug.

They broke apart as Danny flew through the floor and landed on the kitchen floor with a soft thud. "Again?" Danny joked, looking at the table full of acceptance letters and mirroring the tone she had used the day before.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," Jazz said deadpanned. Danny transformed into his human self and walked over to the table, looking over his sister's and mother's shoulders. "Where were you anyway?"

Danny shrugged, eyes darting across the table. "Fort Eerie too? Wow Jazz, that's amazing!" he congratulated. Jazz beamed at her brother. "I was in the Ghost Zone."

That got the attention of both Fenton women. "I didn't know you were going there today?" Jazz said.

"Did something happen?" Maddie asked, confused. "Your next training session with Ethelwulf is next week isn't it?"

Danny shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he assured with a smile. "Went to visit a friend, but he wasn't home. Stopped to chat with Frostbite instead."

"How is Frostbite?" Maddie asked. She had only met the yeti ghost once, after Jack insisted on doing an ice training session in the basement. It took a week for everything to defrost.

"He's good, didn't chat much about him though," Danny said, frowning slightly in anticipation. "I mentioned the dreams to him. Wasn't much help but he gave me something to think about."

Jazz turned to him expectantly. "Which was?"

"Just to trust my instincts," he told them. "Said it wasn't good to dwell on what could have been or what will be and just trust myself. Gonna mention them to Ethelwulf next week if I can't see Clockwork." He turned back to the table full of paper. "Speaking of could haves, have you picked one yet? The suspense is killing me."

Jazz simply glared at her little brother. "No," she retorted, choosing to ignore his pun. "But I love the pressure you're putting on me. A real motivational speech."

Danny picked up the letter from Yale and handed it to his sister with a sigh. "I would have thought it was a no brainer," he said, giving her the piece of paper. "It's always been your dream to go to Yale. There's nothing stopping you! Just say yes."

Jazz smiled softly at her brother as she locked eyes with Maddie. Their mother nodded encouragingly at her as she looked at the two sheets of paper in front of her. "Thanks," she said to both of them.

Danny hugged his sister tightly before transforming back to his ghost half. "I promised Sam and Tuck I'd meet them after I visited Frostbite – you mind if I miss dinner Mom?"

"Just don't be out too late Danny," Maddie reminded him. With a small wave indicated he heard her, he went intangible, flew up and out of the house. Maddie chuckled softly and shook her head. "That boy never sits still."

Jazz watched her brother go with a smile, before looking down at her hands once more. She was ready to make the decision. She looked back to the table and sighed as she glanced at her choices again. Maybe.

:-=-:

He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about – it was lovely and warm - but he was very aware when it shifted. Danny fell with a thud, ungracefully hitting the ground face first. Groaning, Danny looked around in the darkness around him. "Ow," he muttered, picking himself up from the ground. It was pitch black…the only other light source coming from…

"Phantom?" Danny asked, spotting his ghost half sprawled out in front of him. The ghost in front of him opened his green eyes quickly and scrambled upright, staring back into the blue eyes of Danny Fenton.

"Fenton?"

"What are you doing here?!" they asked at the same time. Phantom groaned in annoyance.

"Here we go again. Mindscape?" he asked, looking around.

"Looks like it," Danny agreed. "But why now? Last thing I remember, I was very much asleep."

Phantom nodded. "Could be a dream?" he speculated.

Danny shook his head. "Doubtful, I definitely feel awake. So why are we here?" Fenton waited expectantly as Phantom looked around. The white haired ghost sighed exasperatedly as he crossed his arms.

"No idea."

"Great," Danny replied drily. "Just what I need; you annoying me while I'm awake and while asleep."

Phantom scoffed. "Like we have any time for that," he said with a frown. Phantom lit up a hand with green ecto-energy, trying to illuminate their surroundings a little more. There was nothing else there. "Our core must have split us for a reason," he said. "The last time we were here, we were using too much raw energy on the shields."

Danny frowned. "But we aren't using any energy now," he said. "Raw or otherwise. We're asleep. We're not using-" Danny trailed off, realizing what he was saying. He turned to Phantom, deadpanned. "Oh hell."

"What?" Phantom asked. It took him a second before he realized it too. "Damn," he swore. "I guess Frostbite was right."

The world lit up around them, various images and battles swirling around as if they were in the eye of the hurricane. When the images settled, both teens found themselves in a large tower, with many clocks and gears hanging from the green castles. Viewing screens with similar images of the battles they had just witnessed danced across it, giving a more ominous presence to their new setting. The sounds of many ticking clocks worked overhead.

"Clockwork's tower?" Danny questioned, looking around the room. Phantom walked around, observing their surroundings. Danny followed suit, exploring what he remembered from the last time here was here. The walls were bare; where many time medallions hung now was empty at the top of the tower. "The medallions are gone."

"No sign of Clockwork either," Phantom called back. "Wonder where he-" Phantom cut himself off, gasping. "Fenton, back up. Slowly."

Noticing the quick change in tone, Danny turned to Phantom in confusion. The ghost was staring at something in his direction with a hard glare. His body was ridged, almost on edge; Danny could feel the anxiety building up within him. Turning back, he gasped as he saw it; the old thermos, battered, dented and most noticeably - cracked.

Danny took a couple steps backward to be side by side with his ghost half. "This can't be real," he whispered in horror.

"Can't it?" Phantom quipped back. "We knew Clockwork had the thermos; Clockwork never told us what he did with it."

"But he just left it there. All this time?"

The thermos rattled, making both boys jump in response. Another crack appeared, this time going down the centre of the thermos. It hissed as a blue light shone from within.

"No," Phantom whispered in dread.

"We gotta go," Danny said, worriedly. "Dream or not, this isn't going to end well if we start fighting."

"We need to know," Phantom argued back. "Frostbite said to trust our powers; we need to know if this is real." Danny felt the onslaught of emotions coming from his ghost half and realized that he was right; if this was a new power, they needed to know if they could trust it.

Danny swallowed as the thermos crackled this time. After a few tense moments, the thermos exploded in a whirl of white and green flames. Phantom quickly put a shield around the two teens, still waiting in anticipation for what was to come.

Danny?

The light from the explosion was blinding even through the shield. By the time it died down, Danny blinked back stars to see the figure in front of him.

Danny!

His white and black cape billowed around the flames as white boots touched the ground. Flaming white hair ignited menacingly as Dan Phantom walked out of the flames, laughing. His red eyes turned to the two wide eyed teens under the shield, a sadistic grin plastered across his face.

Danny, wake up!

"Hello Danny," Dan drawled, raising his hand toward the shield, lighting it with green ecto-energy. "And goodbye." The ectoblast hit the shield and the world exploded with pain. A scream… or was that his scream? The pain was getting almost unbearable. It was almost as if his core was imploding…

They were fighting now, the wails colliding bouncing off each other as they were locked in combat. He felt himself fading but there was no way of knowing for sure…

Son! You need to wake up!

He was tired… run ragged from the battles before. Whatever he managed to heal was definitely not healed anymore. The raw energy in front of him flowed through his veins as it battled against the dark red eyes of his worst enemy. It intensified now, all consuming. He couldn't take it….

:-=-:

Danny sprung upright, eyes shooting open and gasping for air. He's out. He's back. There was a loud clattering noise around him and jumped, hitting whoever was shaking his shoulders in the chest. They put the arms around him tighter. Thinking he was still in danger, Danny tried to transform, but nothing happened, his panicked breathing getting quicker.

"Danny it's me," his father whisper shouted, trying to get Danny to look at him. "It's okay, it's just me."

Above the sound of his breathing, Danny relaxed slightly as he heard his father's voice. Jack breathed with him, trying to get him to calm down. They sat there for a few minutes before Jack spoke again.

"I came to check on you," Jack said quietly, watching Danny apprehensively as he continued to stare wide eyes at the wall gasping for air. "You were making things float around the room, kiddo. It took me a while to wake you. Must have been some dream."

Danny shook his head and swallowed. "That," he said breathlessly, "Was no dream." He pushed away from his dad's grasp as he got out of bed. He was halfway across the room when he tried to transform again. It failed again, this time sending a series of white sparks through his form, causing the boy to fall with a shout.

"Danny!" Jack yelled running to his side. "What's wrong?"

Danny shook his head again. Gritting his teeth, he focused his energy and finally transformed through the sparks into his ghost half. He heard his father yell for Maddie and Jazz, but Danny could only focus on one thing. He's back. Protect the town. He flew up to the Ops Center, ignoring the cries from his father as he left. Protect your home.

Standing at the edge of the Ops Center, Danny stood firmly in place, ignoring the sparks coming from his core. Protect the town. Focusing on the energy within him, his right eye turned blue as an emblem of light appeared at his feet, his logo shining brightly beneath him. The light turned green as energy shot out from the circle. His body glowed as energy flew straight up out into the air. Hitting its mark in the sky, the energy started to encase the town, creating a large dome overtop. The dome continued, widening to the limits of the town. The circle at his feet connected with the dome overhead, trapping the town inside. Danny continued to pour as much energy as he could into the shield, until finally he faltered backwards and collapsed onto his knees, panting from the effort.

He's back. Dannyheard his family shouting for him as they reached the top of the Ops Center. Stamina finally giving in, Danny reverted back to his human self as they came around him.

His father came in front of him, kneeling down and locking eyes with him. "Danny," he said with concern. "What is it? What did you see?"

Still panting, Danny turned to his sister, who looked at him with fearful eyes. "He's out," he whispered hoarsely; dread pooling in the bottom of his stomach as the reality of his words finally sank in.

Jazz gasped, their parents looking at their children in alarm and concern.

"Who's out?" Maddie demanded. "Danny what are you talking about!?"

"Danny, are you sure?" Jazz asked worriedly. "Couldn't this all be a-"

"No," he grunted. White sparks again awakened at his chest. He closed his eyes tightly as he tried to weather the overuse of his powers to explain. They were all in danger. "He's back Jazz. He's coming." More sparks went through the boy's frame making Danny groan in pain. He tried to battle through it, but eventually Danny pitched forward into Jack's arms, unconscious.

First

Read on AO3

#cartoons #danny phantom #fanfiction #danny fenton #split!danny #Fenton bonding #action #adventure #cross posted on ao3 #friendship #no phantom planet #But his parents know #Updates on Sunday and sometimes Wednesday

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lovethestars1966 · 3 years

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STEREK, FBI/Falsely accused fic. CH. 9

Chapter nine… It’s up!

Come on over and check it outttt (I sang that in my head and no one can make me feel ashamed of it!! Getting some really good reviews on this. Admittedly I’m considering having them drug tested because I’m nowhere near good enough for the credit they give me but I’ll take it…(did you catch that little self compliment there 😉)

For real though, I’m really proud and I think you should all give it a go. I am genuinely getting some awesome compliments so thank you to all of those people!!!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31853854/chapters/82002844

Excerpt:

“Really?” He asked stepping fully into the room, “Bit early in the day for moody asides don’t you think?”

Derek looked unimpressed. “It’s mid afternoon,” he corrected and Stiles waved a hand in dismissal.

“Semantics,” He said, then leaned over to see who exactly he had fixated on. “Chelsea?” He questioned sitting down next to him.

Derek nodded. “She’s the only victim that was genuinely murdered just because of her interactions with me. If I hadn’t asked her out…”

Stiles startled at that. More surprised at his own surprise than anything. Of course that would be the depressing, self deprecating, train of thought Derek would jump on. He sighed sadly and took the photo away. It’s not like he could judge. He was still convincing himself that he wasn’t to blame for Derek’s whole ‘accused of murder’ debacle, and failing at that.

“Is it going to help at all if I tell you that it isn’t your fault?” He asked hopefully.

Derek turned his hardened glare on Stiles. “I know it isn’t my fault,” he answered, voice thick with resolve. “I didn’t kill her, I didn’t ask anyone to kill her, but they did. And all because I wanted to get laid so I’d stop pinning over my brothers sixteen year old best friend.”

“So you’re saying you know this didn’t happen because of you, but also that it…did?” Stiles questioned confused. Derek sighed and Stiles ached. He hated when he couldn’t help. When Derek was hurting and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Which was becoming an all to constant theme over the last week.

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted, “I just, feel bad about it.”

That Stiles understood, “I get that,” he assured, “you wouldn’t really be you if you didn’t.”

Derek looked curiously at him then. Eyes sorrowful and yearning. Stiles wanted them bright and happy like this morning again. “You aren’t going to tell me to buck up. There was nothing I could do. Don’t let it get me down, then he wins?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Well clearly I don’t have to since you’ve already nailed the basics,” a small half smile flirted at the corner of Dereks mouth. “Besides,” Stiles continued, “I don’t think you should. I think it’s a fairly logical response to someone murdering innocent people because of some mystery hatred for you. It should make you feel sad. As long as you use all that determination to stop them from doing it again.” He reasons. “Not every emotion needs to make sense, some are just instinctual. Just go with it, let it help you.”

Derek contemplates his words and then smiles fully but softly. “Anyone ever tell you you’re wise beyond your years Stiles Hale?” he asked teasingly and leaned in to peck Stiles sweetly on the lips.

Stiles smirked in response. “Only every day my whole damn life Derek Stilinski.” He shot back without missing a beat. It was enough to pull a full belly laugh from his husband which was the ultimate goal so Stiles would call it a win.

Derek moved in to drag another jarring kiss from Stiles but was stopped by the sound of a fist on wood.

They both looked up to see a very irate looking Isaac and eager looking Erica in the doorway. “So do you guys just do that shit all the time or what?” Isaac grumbled annoyed. Stiles felt an eyebrow shoot up at his tone but noted that Derek seemed less than shocked.

Stiles should say something right? Isaac had been grouchy and facetious all day and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. He should say something.

Derek beats him to it. “What do you have?” Okay, not what Stiles was expecting but let’s see where he goes with this.

“Boyd and I called everyone still around and Danny sent over all the ME reports. There are some inconstancies we want you to have a look at.” Right, he was talking to Erica, that made sense.

Derek nodded and then looked over expectantly at Isaac. “I was just showing her where you were. I didn’t realise it’d be a peep show.” He said and then stomped off.

“What the fuck?” Stiles asked and Erica seemed to agree. “Do you know what that is about?” He asked his husband.

Derek looked skeptical, “I have my suspicions,” he answered and Stiles waited for him to voice them, which he apparently wasn’t planning to do.

“Care to share with the class?” Erica asked for him but Derek shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said and motioned for Stiles to get up but left to follow Erica without him.

“I hate when you do that!” Stiles yelled at his back as he walked away. Derek just looked over his shoulder to smirk and kept going. Asshole.

“Trouble in paradise?” Came the epically condescending tone of his father.

Stiles sneered. “Yeah, we’re on the brink of divorce. You were right all along,” he puts a special effort into making himself sound as sarcastic as possible. With the decisions his father has made over the last five days he needed to make sure that the man knew he wasn’t serious or he might take it as fact and run with it. “Do you just lurk in the shadows all day long waiting for an opportunity to jump out and insert your unwanted opinion?” He asks and annoyingly his father doesn’t rise to the bait. Just smiles knowingly and melts into the background, heading towards his office. “Yeah that's right,” Stiles shouts to his retreating figure, “Slink back into the shadows from whence you came!”

#Sterek #sterek fic #Team Sterek #sterek fanfiction #stiles stilinkski #Best friends brother #Stiles/Derek #Stiles Stilinski #Derek hale #derek and scott are brothers

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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Ash/Athena AU: Unwrapping

In the Honor Bound / Daniel Michaelson’s AU with @whump-tr0pes , Danny sees Isaac for the first time since Corrine took him... and realizes what his mother did

CW: Threats of torture/noncon, nonconsensual touching (not sexual), referenced past torture and noncon. Dehumanization and pet whump.

“If you hurt him, I swear to God, Mom-”

“He’s fine.” Corrine waved one hand dismissively as she met a furious Danny in the driveway. She was already dressed for the party in a short black cocktail dress and a triple-strand of pearls resting lightly against her dark skin, black heels that she walked in with perfect grace. She looked every inch the pure power of the Michaelson group she was. “Oh, you look lovely, Daniel. You and your plaything will complement each other so well.”

Danny shifted, uncomfortable in his Syndicate suit. This one was new, and tailored to adapt to the weight he'd never regained after he came back, but part of him always felt the collar when he had to wear his suits now. Abraham and Ashley had made him wear the one he was abducted in to the parties, so that he’d look more like what he was, until someone paid extra to cut it off him while he was tied to the floor in front of all the guests cheering and screaming and he was bleeding and-

Stop. Focus on Isaac. You have to see Isaac, have to make sure he’s okay. He has to be okay.

“Mom hasn’t done anything more than get your new friend ready for the party,” Patrick said, standing beside Corrine in his own tux, salt-and-pepper hair cut close to his scalp. He leaned in to kiss Danny’s cheeks, one by one, and Danny met the kisses absently, his eyes still on his mother. “I promise.”

Patrick’s voice was low and melodic, with the same charming singsong quality that Ryan had. He and Ryan were the spitting image of each other, from the strong jaw to the sparkling amber eyes to the black curls - although Patrick’s had plenty of gray in this particular iteration of his appearance, and more than a few distinguished wrinkles besides.

“He’s got to be terrified,” Danny said, his stomach twisted in awful knots. He hadn’t been able to eat since he’d thrown up all over the floor, feeling the collar around his neck all over again after watching his mother order Isaac dragged away.

Nate had fed him broth; it was the only thing he could keep down.

His nerves were strung so tightly, singing with constant panic that he damped down through sheer willpower. “You could have let him stay with Nate and I last night, he-... he was probably so scared you’d, you’d kill him or something, Mom-”

“Why ever would he think I would do that?” Corrine raised an eyebrow, and when Danny just stared at her, she laughed - a soft, warm sound. “Oh, because I put a gun to his head. Honestly, Daniel. He’s fine. Mrs. Verona fed him a lovely charcuterie with cheese and fruit for dinner, plus plenty of wine. He was reluctant at first, but…” Corrine shrugged carelessly. “He came around, eventually.”

"... Did you get Isaac drunk, Mom?" Danny asked, blinking rapidly, trying to keep himself from getting angry and upset, fighting back the bite in his words.

Abraham got him drunk all the time. He was so fucking miserable and in so much pain, it was easy to just open his mouth and let it burn down his throat, lap bourbon from bowls they put on the floor while they laughed and said you like that, puppy? and then said he had to earn it-

Stop. This isn't about you. This is about Isaac. Nate has a plan. You can do this, Nate has a plan. Just pretend you want this, like you said. Just pretend you want him as a plaything.

Act like Abraham used to. You can do this. You can be like them to get him out. You can do this.

"Oh, hardly. He needed to loosen up, anyway." Corrine held her hand out to Nate as he walked up, wearing his own deep green suit, and he kissed the Michaelson family crest on the heavy ring she wore. "Any news, Nate?"

Nate nodded, straightening up and smoothing his suit jacket with his good hand. "Yes, ma'am. I m-m-may need to skip out early if m-my lead pans out. We have some r-reports - nothing c-c-conc-... Conc-... nothing that's a sure th-thing, but…"

"Of course. Go as you need to. I want them back." Corrine smiled, licking at her thumb and reaching up to wipe at Danny's cheek.

"I'm twenty-seven, Mom, quit it," Danny said, batting her hand away, stepping back uncomfortably.

"You're twenty-eight, as of today, sweet boy. Happy birthday, Daniel." She smiled warmly, affectionately, and Danny managed a small smile in response despite the nerves still tap-dancing all over his skin. "Would you like to see your new boy? Ryan has been overseeing his final prep for tonight."

The sun was starting to set, lighting everything the peculiarly beautiful golden tinge that made the house seem faintly laced with magic. Danny used to feel comfortable here, at home.

He wondered if Isaac had thought the house was beautiful… or just hellish. Maybe they'd be alone long enough for him to tell Isaac about Nate's plan, to ask…

"Yes, Mom. I want to see him. I've…" Danny hesitated, trying to think of how Abraham would say it if he were here. He forced his voice to sound stronger, more certain, even as he felt ghostly cold fingers card through his hair, and had to hide his shiver. "I had him for five days. I didn't like having to go without. The whole point of having one to keep is that you don't, right?"

Corrine smiled at him - it was such a loving, proud smile, and it hurt Danny to see it. He had fought his whole life for their approval and pride, and had only received it after he had been held in captivity for four years. He had only seen this kind of pride now, now that his mother assumed he was done hiding from what he was and had begun to embrace it.

The thought of what she expected him to be - the very thing that he had been beaten for being, the reason people paid Abraham and Ashley money for time alone with him, for chances to hurt him - made him sick.

But it was what he was, what he’d been born - or adopted - into. Power, and control over their territory. People who did what he said, when he said it. The assumption that he would dehumanize and break down anyone he wanted if he wanted to keep them.

They wanted him to be Syndicate - but Danny’s mind had been broken and shredded alongside his body for the crime of his Syndicate name. He didn’t want to be what they accused him of being.

He didn’t want to be what he was.

He would have given anything, in the moment he looked into his mother’s loving eyes, to have been in the car with Isaac’s team driving far away from here.

He could live with getting Isaac into the car with Isaac’s team. He had to play his part, and keep it up for a while… Nate had a plan but he had to buy Nate some time.

“Then I won’t keep him waiting on you,” Corrine said gently, reaching up to pat the side of his face. Danny stilled under the unwanted touch, but Corrine had never understood or accepted that he did not like to be touched, since he came back.

Not by anyone but Nate, or… or Isaac.

Danny swallowed.

That didn’t matter. That was ruined, too, now - like the rest of his life had been ruined and wrecked. There was no version of what he was that could not be used to break some new hope he’d had to fight so hard to feel.

Nate fell in beside him as they walked towards the house, his right hand sliding warm against Danny’s back through his suit. “It’s going to b-be okay,” Nate whispered into his ear, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his hair. Danny closed his eyes and nodded, fighting the heat that built there, the hint of tears.

He fought the urge to whine, to collapse, to whimper it won’t be okay, nothing will ever be okay again. He was a grown man, and he wouldn’t be weak, not today. Not when Nate needed him to play his part.

Not when Isaac needed to get out of here.

Corrine had Isaac waiting for him in a side room off from the main living area, where the party would be. There were already servants everywhere Danny looked setting up the hors d'oeuvres table, laying out the first platters of food just so, setting up the wine fountain in the corner along with the other loose bottles the guests could choose from. Danny felt trapped in a kind of terrible deja vu - this was his childhood, parties like this.

It had once felt natural.

Now, he kept searching for hooks in the floor that he would be tied down to.

Mrs. Verona popped her head out of the kitchen to wave hello to him and he bent himself nearly in half to reach her tiny height for the kiss to each cheek. His smile was more natural, for her, and the tiny ageless woman’s face was a starburst of cheerful wrinkles as she pinched his cheek, just lightly. “Your young man,” She said softly, “Could use a bit of reassurance, I think.”

“Couldn’t we all,” Danny whispered back, and she winked at him.

“Reassurance and fresh air. But he’ll have plenty of air later on, won’t he?”

Danny straightened, turning to look at Nate, who gave him a perfectly innocent, beatific smile in return. Mrs. Verona is part of the plan? Nate only shrugged and kept him moving through the room, Corrine ahead of them and none the wiser. Patrick veered off to speak with some of the guards, giving them their positions along the walls.

“So many guards,” Danny whispered.

“They’re w-w-worried Isaac will r-r-run, or his t-team will try to come b-back for him,” Nate murmured, keeping a hand on his back. Danny forced a false smile, pretending he was just enjoying the gentle affection, that they were just murmuring the sorts of things to each other they might normally say, on a night like this.

“Will they? Do they… do they know the plan?”

“Some. I t-t-told them where to w-wait, and when I’ll g-get him back to th-them. We have to hope they t-t-trust me. If they c-come on their own…” Nate frowned, picking up a little shrimp puff off the food table as they passed, ignoring the glare from one of the servants in return as he popped it into his mouth. “They’ll be slaughtered, and w-we can’t stop that.”

“They can’t be killed, or hurt,” Danny said, insistently. “We have to get them out. They trusted us, they were so nice to us, Isaac-” His voice broke, his whisper cracking apart, and he swallowed back the guilt that might eat him alive. “Isaac trusted me.”

“I know. I’m s-s-sorry it happened this w-way. But maybe w-we can make it up to him,” Nate said gently, reaching up to push back a bit of wavy red hair. It made Danny think of Isaac, tucking a little bit of hair behind his ear before the first time they kissed-

His knees buckled, just a little, and Nate effortlessly caught him around the waist.

Corrine glanced back over her shoulder, and saw only Nate nuzzling into Danny’s neck, whispering into his ear - a soft, shy smile on Danny’s face. She smiled to see them together, with a warm maternal affection.

Her eyes flashed a brilliant purple before she turned back to walk into the other room. “He’s in here with Ryan, darling,” Corrine called, and Danny took a deep breath, lifted his chin, and walked into the formal dining room to see Isaac.

Danny came to a stop in the doorway, staring at his first view of Isaac since yesterday, as his heart… snapped. It was the only word for the sensation he felt, pulled tense until he broke at the sight of a man who had trusted him with himself and his scars and who had been betrayed in return.

Isaac looked gorgeous.

And terrified.

He was standing with a guard on either side of him, his hair neatly combed and shining clean, hands folded in front of himself, eyes on the floor, his chin bent nearly to his collarbone. He wore a perfectly tailored suit that was so close to Danny’s, and Danny had sort of wondered what Isaac might look like all dressed up (or more accurately, how it would feel to see him dressed up and peel that clothing off him piece by piece), and now he knew.

Ryan was standing against the wall, arms folded, with a face like a stormcloud. “Say hello,” Ryan said, his voice oddly harsh and grating, and Danny’s head jerked to the side only to see Ryan’s eyes glowing a light yellow in the dim dining room light. Ryan wasn’t enjoying this - he was angry about it. “Danny, fair warning, you’re not going to like-”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Nate standing next to him, and Danny turned to look at Isaac again. He’d looked up, to meet Danny’s eyes with him, and his mouth - God, that mouth - was stretched in a tremulous, frightened smile.

There was a thick band of black around his neck, and when Danny’s mind allowed him to understand what he saw, he felt the collar wrap around his own neck, too, the constriction that dug into his skin and rubbed it raw and bloody over and over until the scars made the skin too rough to break so easily again.

Then he saw the reddened fresh brand - the M with its intertwining vines - on the side of Isaac’s neck.

“Oh,” Danny said softly. Fury came instantly, a fire he couldn’t even vocalize around, burning him too deeply to speak the words. He barely managed a whisper. “Mom… y-you, you put… you said you, you wouldn’t-”

“I know, darling, and I’m sorry,” Corrine said, with a tone that suggested she absolutely wasn’t. “And it won’t be for long. But we had to ensure he would be on his best behavior for your birthday party, and I knew you wouldn’t want to lead him. Isaac has promised to be very good for us tonight, hasn’t he?”

She shot a look at Isaac, and Danny watched him look at her with open fear before looking back to Danny and quickly nodding. “Y-Yes, I, I can… I won’t, won’t try anything.” Isaac’s voice shook so hard his words were barely speech at all, and Danny wanted nothing more than to walk across the room and rip the fucking collar off his neck.

He settled for being able to do one of those things.

He stepped forward, feeling like he was floating on numb legs, and moved up to Isaac - who cringed away and then caught himself when Corrine’s eyes cut at him again. Danny reached up to put a hand to either side of his face, and looked into Isaac’s frightened eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, just for him.

“Y-you didn’t have to do this to me,” Isaac all but whimpered, and Danny’s heart ached, a nearly physical pain he could feel slowly radiating out, right to the palms and the fingertips that touched a man he would never, ever have wanted to hurt. “You didn’t have to-”

“Stop mewling,” Corrine snapped, and Isaac’s mouth shut all at once with a click.

“Wh-why did you brand him?” Danny asked, and bit back the wail to turn his words into something closer to anger than the grief he felt welling up inside. With a brand, Isaac wouldn’t be safe. Everywhere he went, even if they got him out of here, everyone would know he was a Michaelson plaything.

Everywhere he went, they’d think he could be tortured for Michaelson intel or sold back to them for a reward. Even with Nate's plan, it was a matter of time before Isaac was sold back to them, back into Danny's bed at best or Corrine's tortures at worst. He couldn't hide it, or forget it.

Corrine had trapped him in the lie Danny had told to save his life.

He glanced sidelong at Nate, who was looking at it, too, with that empty stillness he was so skilled at. He met Danny's gaze and gave him a small smile. "Just as l-l-lovely as y, yesterday,"

The plan is still going. Don't falter. Stay strong. Danny knows how to read the words Nate doesn't say.

Danny shook his head, trying to say with his eyes what he couldn’t say in front of his mother, not and have any hope to keep up the charade, to get Nate the time he needed to get his plan in motion. He couldn’t say it if he wanted any chance of getting Isaac out of here. “You’re beautiful,” He said instead, and his voice stayed even, and strong.

Oh, puppy, you look beautiful tonight. Let’s take a ‘Before’ photo, the guys coming over really don’t like your fucking family. Bet you give me one hell of an ‘After’ later on, huh? Smile for the camera, Red.

“You’re beautiful,” Danny repeated, and Isaac closed his eyes, lowering his chin again, shivering under Danny’s touch.

“Thank you,” Isaac whispered.

He hates me, Danny thought, and felt guilt crash into him like a wave. He’ll hate me now, forever. I just wanted… “Take the collar off,” Danny said in a low voice, without looking away from Isaac’s face. “Take it off. He’s already branded, you don’t need to collar him, too!”

“Not an option,” Corrine said lightly. “He will stay in line better with it on.”

“Mom, I said take it off, he doesn’t need a collar to control him!” Danny let go of Isaac and turned to face down his mother, but even glaring down at her and towering over her much smaller frame, he knew he wouldn’t win this one just from the way her jaw set, ever so slightly, and her eyes lit up.

“I am the matriarch of this family, Daniel Michaelson,” Corrine said firmly, a warning edging her voice. "You are my son and you will show me the respect I am due.”

“Mom.” Danny fought to calm himself. “I… I like the suit, you, you did a good job, but I can’t… I can’t, not with him wearing that! Not with our mark on him!”

“I told you not to do it, Mom,” Ryan growled from the wall. He was glaring at the guards on either side of Isaac, and they shifted uncomfortably under his glowing yellow gaze. “You know he hates this shit. You know it. Branding people is all your generation, we don’t fucking brand people anymore!”

“Don’t act like you’re any better.” Danny glared at his younger brother, usually wide blue eyes narrowed to furious slits. “You wanted to do the same fucking thing to him!”

“No, I didn’t!” Ryan snapped back. “I wanted to make you happy and having him stay is one thing, but I wouldn’t have stuck my fucking ring on his neck! I’m a Michaelson just like you, but I’m not a Michaelson like that and this fucking dog-and-pony-show pisses me off just as much!”

“Don’t say ‘dog’,” Danny whispered, feeling blood drain from his face.

Some of the anger left Ryan, and his eyes went back to their usual honeyed yellow. “I’m sorry,” Ryan said, sincerely, putting both hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, Dan. I didn’t-... I didn’t think.” He swallowed, hard. “You, you know that I wouldn’t…”

“No, I know, I just-... shit, fucking hell, Mom, you can’t do this to him!” Danny spun back to his mother, who watched him evenly, with one eyebrow raised.

“Do you want him like you said to me yesterday, or not?” Corrine asked, her voice very low. “Darling, did you lie to me, yesterday? I would be very disappointed with you and upset if you lied to me.”

“I… I didn’t. I didn’t, Mom, I definitely want him,” Danny said, swallowing hard, trying consciously to calm himself even as his hands began to shake. Be Abraham, be Abraham, be Abraham. “He’s fucking gorgeous, and nobody else should get to enjoy the, um, the-the sounds he makes but me.”

“Oh, fuck,” Isaac said, his face somewhere between ash-pale and greenish around the edges. “Oh, fuck no-”

“What did I tell you about language, Isaac?” Corrine said coldly, and Isaac flinched, jerking his eyes back to the floor.

“S-sorry,” Isaac whispered. “I’ll be good.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “What… what did you tell him about language? Is he… did you-... punish him?!”

“Not really. He has agreed to abide by the rules for tonight’s engagement. If he behaves for you, darling, he won’t have to wear it again. The decision is made and my decisions are final.” Corrine clapped her hands together. “If he is not acceptable exactly as he is, perhaps we will simply declare this whole thing a loss and move him to my basement-”

“No!” Danny and Isaac shouted at the same time - one with rage and one with terror.

“God damn it, Mom!” Ryan joined in. The impassive expressions on the faces of Isaac’s guards never changed, and the soft bustle of servants never ceased. This wasn’t the first Michaelson fight any of them had witnessed, and it would almost certainly not be the last. “Don’t fucking threaten to torture Danny’s new man right in front of him!”

“Right in front of Daniel, or the plaything?” Corrine asked, with a hint of a smile that suggested she thought the question very funny.

Ryan rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall. “I’ve read Danny, Mom. He wants Isaac. That’s the honest truth. Come on, give them a minute before the guests arrive.” There was a pause, and then Ryan said, “Nate, you’re with me for now.”

Nate frowned, eyes narrowing. “M-Michaelson, I’ve said it b-b-before, I don’t w-work for you-”

“For right now, you do. I need to talk to you about this tip you’ve got on the runaways.” Ryan and Nate met eyes for a second, and Danny could feel the tension in the room rising, the way the two men always sparked against each other unpleasantly whenever they interacted directly. “I want to know what information you have on them, Vandrum.”

“Not your b-b-business, Michaelson.”

More silence, and Ryan said in a tone of deadly certainty, “I am making it my business, Nathaniel. So get your ass with me or nothing goes the way you want it to go tonight.”

“Wh-what the fuck does that mean?”

Ryan smirked. “I think you know what it means.” They stared at each other for a few more long, drawn-out, tense moments.

“Go on, Nate,” Corrine waved one hand dismissively, already moving back towards the doorway. “Go with Ryan. Daniel will speak with his plaything privately. Guests will be arriving soon and they really should get a bit of time together.” She smiled over her shoulder at Danny. “I know you’re angry at me for this, darling, but please… it’s your birthday. Be good to the guests. This gorgeous boy is your gift.”

“I could never ask for an… anything better,” Danny replied, mostly honestly, watching Nate's back longingly as he left walking behind Ryan with his annoyance and anger all but radiating off of him. Danny's voice was thin but he covered it, he thought, as well as he could. Fury still boiled under the surface, the temper he’d once had that Abraham and Ashley had broken and beaten and bashed out of him day by day. “Thank you… thank you, Mom. He’s a wonderful birthday present.”

“You’re very welcome, dear.” Corrine smiled. “Oh, and plaything…” Isaac slowly raised his eyes, not quite meeting hers, cringing slightly back against the dining room table. “That’s good. Learning to keep your eyes down when speaking to your betters. I want you to look right at this.” She held up a small rectangular disk with a few buttons and a dial on it, waggling it back and forth in her hands. “You will behave.”

“I will,” Isaac whispered, staring at the thing in Corrine’s hands with pure fear written across his face. “I will. I’ll behave.”

“Good. Bring your new toy out in about… oh, ten minutes or so, Daniel. The first guests should arrive right about then, and I’ll want you and the plaything in the receiving line to greet them. Everyone should get a good long look at my baby boy coming back to himself, finally, after all that’s happened. We’re a strong family, Daniel. I need you to be my strong son tonight.”

“Of course, Mom,” Danny said, nodding quickly, shifting himself minutely so he was blocking Isaac from Corrine’s direct gaze.

“Family first, Daniel,” Corrine said firmly. “Never forget that. We are Michaelsons first.”

“Michaelsons, first,” Danny agreed, readily enough. He met his mother’s cool, appraising eyes, and kept his face calm even as the muzzle scars ached, phantom pains and fire that wrapped around his face and made it hard for him to force his jaw open enough to speak.

There is no life before-

“Perfect. I’m sorry about the collar, darling, but it really is necessary. Just for tonight. You can take it off him before you take him home.” Corrine gave him her warmest, most loving smile, and he managed one, although thin and small, in return.

He held it until she was gone.

With the two guards still standing at Isaac’s elbows, Danny didn’t dare drop the act, or tell Isaac about the plan. That there was one, that he wouldn’t have to live this way, that Danny and Nate were going to get him out of here tonight.

He couldn’t tell him anything.

All he could do was step up, and take Isaac’s hands in his - the other man’s fingers felt freezing cold. Danny’s fingers were rough and numbed from his years with the mercenaries, but he held Isaac’s hands slowly up, rubbing gently at them, trying to warm them. “I’m so sorry,” He whispered, lips grazing Isaac’s knuckles.

Isaac jerked, like he would try and pull away, but stopped himself, staring at Danny with wide, frightened eyes. The thick black ring around his neck made Danny feel dizzily sick, and he tried not to see it, not to look. “Please don’t do this,” Isaac said back, weakly.

“I know, I know. It’s… it’s not all night,” Danny said, pulling Isaac to him. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t say a fucking thing to actually make him feel better. Not even a real hint. All he could do was put his arms around the other man, feel Isaac stiff and tense and frightened but apparently threatened too well by Danny’s mother to pull away. “It’s not, um, not for the whole night, Isaac. I promise. It’s… just a little while.”

Just a little while before I can save you.

Just a little while before we get you out of here.

Nate has a plan.

I wish I could tell you.

Isaac’s head dropped slowly onto Danny’s shoulder, half-collapsed against him. He’d dropped his head like this after the third time, Danny thought, swallowing against a rush of guilt and worry. Dropped his head on Danny's shoulder but from behind him, laughing, whispering nonsense in Danny's ear until it tickled and he laughed and tried to wriggle away-

Stop thinking about it, she ruined it, you'll never have anyone like him ever again. No one but Nate, not ever, no one she'll see or know about. Don't even look at anyone else ever again.

He couldn’t come back from what his mother had done, what Isaac had heard him say, just to save him.

“Please let me go,” Isaac said into the skin of Danny’s neck, and there was a sense of dampness - tears against his Syndicate suit. “Please, please just let me go-”

I’m going to.

“I can’t,” Danny murmured into Isaac’s hair, pressing a kiss there. Isaac was shaking, and Danny rubbed at his back with one hand, staring at the wall on the other side of the room, trying to think. There was nothing he could do to warn Isaac that the guards wouldn’t pick up on. There was nothing to do but let Isaac think this was real right up until Nate gave him the signal. “By tomorrow, it’ll be better,” Danny said softly, kissing into his hair again. The guards were staring - Danny could feel their eyes, and he slid his hand up to tip Isaac’s jaw, tilting his head back up, to look right into his eyes and press a soft kiss to trembling lips. “By tomorrow, you won’t have to wear that collar again.”

“I don’t want this, Danny. I don’t… I don’t want this. I don’t want to be this.”

“Ssssshhhh, I know, I know.” Danny kissed at the damp tear tracks on his cheeks, at his forehead. He tilted his head to look at the brand on Isaac’s neck, watched the other man clench his eyes shut under the scrutiny. “I’m sorry she… hurt your neck, and put that on you. I would, would never have wanted-”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you just… ask?” Isaac asked, pulling back just to look into Danny’s eyes. “How can you do this to me, after… after what happened to you? Why didn’t you just ask me to stay?”

It was Danny’s turn to drop his eyes and look away. If he looked into Isaac’s eyes a single second longer, he wouldn’t be able to keep up the act, he’d just tell him and the guards would hear and it would… all be over. Corrine would drag Isaac into the basement, torture him for information, Danny couldn’t keep him safe from that…

“Didn’t know it was, um, an option,” He muttered, and pulled back. “Come on, Isaac. Let’s go get in the line for guests.” He pulled Isaac with him, the two guards right behind them, and he kept his hand resting lightly against Isaac’s back the way that Nate would have done for him.

Isaac didn’t lean in or pull away - he walked with slow, purposeful footsteps, and kept his eyes miserably on the floor in front of him.

I’m going to save you, Danny tried to think as loudly as he could. Nate and I are going to get you out of here, and we’ll save you, and you’ll be free and safe and far away from me.

Out loud, all he could do was lean in and say, gently, “You won’t have to stay at the party for very long.”

The way Isaac turned red and closed his eyes against tears told Danny that the words weren’t reassuring at all.

#whump #captivity #caretaker forced to be whumper #Daniel Michaelson's au #honor bound au #whump-tr0pes #shock collar #tw: shock collar #pet whump #dehumanization #broken whumpee #rescue plan #nonhuman whumper

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triggeringthehealing · 4 years

Text

Happy New Year

Derek/Stiles || PG || ~2k || AO3 Summary: Once upon a time, the loft was where Stiles was asked if he liked boys. Now, years later, he knows he does. A/N: Written for the @fullmoonficlet challenge - prompt #361: kiss

For the first time since that one blacklight party, the loft is filled with the sounds of electronica and more noise than it has heard in years. Stiles didn't even know that Derek still owned the building until he got the text message from Scott about the party that was planned in it for New Year's Eve this year.

They're all back, the whole pack, for the first time in years. Until now, every holiday there was someone missing, someone who couldn't make it back to Beacon Hills for some reason. Stiles himself only barely made it back while he was in college and then in FBI's training academy. Now that he's working, it's not easy to get time off either but since he's been assigned to the California office as a liaison for all things supernatural, it's been a little less complicated to visit his dad and meet up with everyone else.

The pack being what it is and scattered across the world as it is, they're all involved with the Bureau in one way or another -- Lydia consults at the HQ in DC, Scott's holding down the fort locally, Jackson and Ethan work with MI5 in London, even Isaac has helped a few times in France after Chris suggested him to Interpol. Stiles doesn't hear from Cora or Peter much but he knows that at least one of the Hales has their fingers in cases involving creatures of the night. He's not even trying to guess what Peter is up to though.

The younger pack members are not permanently in town anymore though they do visit more often. Kira's parents moved back to New York but she's nearby since her training with the Skinwalkers continues now, though no longer on a permanent basis now that she's better able to control her inner fox. Mason and Corey went to the east coast for college but Liam stayed home, following in Scott's footsteps into the veterinary career.

Tonight, they're all here though, along with friends they've made since on their varied paths. When Jackson and Ethan showed up with Danny in tow, Stiles refused to ask questions lest they prompt ones about his own father and the relationship that Stiles tries really hard not to pay attention to. The older generation is here tonight too, from the pack's parents to Jordan and even Coach who hasn't moved from Natalie Martin's side.

Stiles is still taking in in, though he's been here since early afternoon as everyone started arriving and the music started. The building is vibrating with the bass line and the lights are off, letting the UV paint glow on everyone's faces and bodies as they move to the rhythm. A lot of those who can be drunk are definitely getting to the limit of what they can handle -- not Stiles's dad or Melissa, who seem to be content to be the holders of keys and unofficial chaperones, not that this is a high school dance -- and those who don't feel the effects of alcohol are following the others' lead to keep the pretense.

There are enough strangers that the pack is keeping their supernatural side under wraps. Stiles figures that once it's a little past midnight, only those in the know will stay and the claws and fangs will be more likely to come out. Especially since the next full moon is not too far.

But there's one person Stiles has barely seen all night, even though it's his building and his loft. And they're all here with his permission, unlike during the previous party that happened here, the one that Stiles remembers all too clearly. This one is not likely to be interrupted by Oni, at least.

When he's had his fill of catching up with everyone and his eyes begin to blur from the strobe lights, Stiles decides that it's time to get away from it all. Instead of leaving altogether -- midnight is close and he figures at least some of the others will be looking for him then -- he heads for the balcony where he knows the glass will keep the noise away.

It takes him a moment to realize that he's not alone out there. He spots a dark figure leaning on the half wall on the far side of the balcony, looking out at the town's warehouse district, now rebuilt into an area filled with shops and office spaces, even some residential buildings. When he was driving to the loft earlier, it took Stiles a while to process how much this part of Beacon Hills has changed from the place he knew and how little resemblance it has to the derelict space where they've fought more fights than he can count.

"You hiding?" Stiles asks quietly, knowing he'll be heard.

Derek turns his head and light hits his face, revealing an amused expression.

"Just looking for quiet," he answers. "Guess that plan didn't go too well," he adds and the corner of his lips twitches.

"I can leave you be," Stiles says, though something in his chest twists uncomfortably at the thought of being unwanted, especially right here and now.

"No, don't," Derek tells him, a little faster than Stiles would have let himself hope. "I was kidding."

"Okay."

Stiles walks closer though he keeps his distance still, leaning on the balcony a few feet away from Derek and looking down over the edge.

"Looks different down there."

Derek hums in agreement, mirroring Stiles's position.

"So, how's the academy going?" Stiles asks a few moments later.

It's not that he can't deal with silence, he's learned to master it, especially in his work -- interrogation isn't always about rambling, he realized during his training -- but this one feels different. Loaded. Tense. Like there are words that want to be spoken, words that should have been said before. It doesn't feel wrong but it doesn't feel completely right either. And then, he's also genuinely curious about Derek's progress at the police academy because Stiles is still a little amazed that his father managed to pull the necessary strings and got Derek enrolled.

He's even more amazed that Derek agreed to going through the full training and becoming a fully trained and licensed officer.

"It's fine. Final tests are coming up in a few months and then I'll have to get some experience done," Derek answers easily, with no hesitation.

"Don't you already have hours clocked here?"

"Those count for some of it," Derek says. "But I'll need to do some work in a different station. Probably to prove that I'm not skating or being given favors."

"Ha. Like Dad would ever let anyone get away with that," Stiles replies, chuckling.

"You know that, I know that. Jordan knows that. But the rules are the rules and to get my badge I'll have to work elsewhere for a while," Derek says, his shoulders rising in a shrug.

"Got any ideas yet where you'll go?"

"Six months in Sacramento. Another six in Baltimore"

"Oh wow, do they hate you so much?"

Derek lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

"Those were my choices, actually," he says as he turns to Stiles.

"Why there? I mean, I bet there were places that would have been easier. I get Sacramento, it's not too far, but Baltimore?"

"It's close to Quantico and DC."

Stiles's head turns before he can think about it and he stares at Derek, trying to read the expression in his face. It's not easy, there's light but it's not bright and even if it was, Derek's never been one to give away his thoughts or emotions. There's something there that Stiles knows he's not seeing, something he probably should know. Something that he maybe just doesn't want to think about, lest he lets his hopes rise up.

He wants to be at least part of the reason for Derek's choice. A moment of quick math in his mind tells him that the timing fits, he's in the California office for the upcoming year but he'll be back at HQ right about when Derek's in Baltimore. Not for all of those six months but most of them, as they're going to be working on a full department for investigations focused on the supernatural. Stiles has been talking about it with the pack for months now, excited about being given the lead on the projects even though it means mountains of paperwork.

"Derek."

The name slips from Stiles's lips easily but it's barely a whisper. It's a plea and a wish rolled into five letters, a question and an answer all in one.

"If you don't want me to be around, I can request New York," Derek says, his face flashing with what Stiles can only see as disappointment.

Stiles doesn't hesitate. Doesn't let himself think about a response because there's only one.

"I do," he blurts out. "I mean, if that's what you want, I definitely do want you to be there."

"For the job?"

Now, Stiles pauses. Then he takes a breath and lets his thoughts flow right to his lips.

"I won't lie, you have connections that anyone in the Bureau can only dream about. Only Deaton's better linked to the side of the world that we'll need to reach," Stiles says but he doesn't give Derek a chance to look any more disappointed before he continues. "But that's not the main reason. Not why I'd want you to be in the area. As long as it's not permanent because I will be coming back to this side of the country once the department is up and running."

"Your father said that if Jordan's in office by the time I'm ready, he's under strict orders to give me a job," Derek says, grinning. "I have no doubt that I'll have a position here whenever."

"Good. Because I hated being across the country."

"From here?"

There's something in Derek's face now that Stiles allows himself to read clearly. Something that he himself feels and doesn't want to ignore anymore. It's hope.

"Not the town, no."

Stiles moves along the balcony and the distance closes fast as Derek moves too.

It's been years coming, a long time of Stiles pushing down hope and trying not to wonder whether Derek felt the same. Years of no relationship feeling right. It feels like a dream and because of past experiences, Stiles lifts a hand up and automatically counts his fingers like he used to do.

"Five," Derek whispers and reaches for Stiles's hand, then links their fingers together.

"Huh?"

"Five fingers. Mine too."

"Oh."

Stiles reminds himself to breathe as they stand face to face, barely any space between them. Then, as if on cue, voices come from inside, shouting numbers in unison, one after another, starting from thirty. For a few of them, up to twenty five, Stiles wonders how they're coming through the thickness of the recently installed glass but then all thoughts vanish from his mind as he sees the look in Derek's eyes.

"New year," Stiles whispers.

There's a question in the word and an answer and more information than he knows how to put in words. Derek's looking the way Stiles had hoped to see him for years, expectant and hoping, close enough that Stiles can feel warm breath on his own face. Without thinking, he leans in and closes his eyes for a beat, then opens them again and finds Derek's eyes only a couple of inches away.

"Okay?"

It's Derek who asks permission. Stiles nods and then holds his breath as their lips meet with one last movement closer. From inside, the countdown shouting continues, five, four, three, two, one, then a chorus of wishes for a happy new year. It's all white noise to Stiles though, blood rushing through his ears as he moves his lips against Derek's, their fingers linked and Derek's squeezing like he doesn't want to let go. Stiles moves his free hand to Derek's waist and his fingertips dig into the soft fabric of the T-shirt's thin layer separating him from Derek's skin.

When he feels Derek's tongue on his lip, Stiles can't fight the low moan that builds in his chest. He doesn't want to pull away, wants to stay in this moment forever or at least as long as they can. He's afraid to let go, to break the silence and the moment they're having. But his lungs eventually scream for air, unsatisfied with what he's getting into them. So with reluctance he stops kissing Derek and slowly pulls away, closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths as he processes what just happened. He feels Derek's forehead against his own and the warmth of a palm on his cheek, then a thumb moving in a gentle stroke.

Another moment later, Stiles opens his eyes and looks into Derek's.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey."

"So. This happened."

"Yeah."

"What now?"

Neither of them has a chance to say anything anymore because the balcony door bursts open and when Stiles turns away from Derek and toward the noise, he sees Liam in the doorframe, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, looking apologetic.

"Whoops, sorry, interrupted something, you do you. Or each other. Don't mind me," Liam blurts out and backs away, closing the door again.

Moments later there's whooping from inside, loud enough again to reach them through the glass.

"This there was betting going on?" Stiles asks when it's quieter again.

Derek pauses and closes his eyes, obviously listening to the others, the corner of his lips curling as he does.

"Definitely. Your dad's not happy. Lydia won."

"Naturally."

"So, do we want to brave the wolf's den?" Stiles asks.

HIs fingers twitch against Derek's T-shirt when he's pulled in closer, Derek's palm just above his waist.

"I think we can wait another while. Maybe they'll leave us be," Derek says, smiling.

"And then pigs will fly," Stiles answers. "But I'll take what I can get. Tonight."

He leans forward and kisses Derek again. They might not have much more of this private moment, of the magical bubble where it's only them and no interfering or curious pack members. It's enough for now though because it's only the beginning and if Stiles has anything to do with it, it's the start of forever.

For right now, he's done worrying and done thinking, done wondering and hoping. He's got everything right here. With the way Derek is kissing back and holding Stiles close, Stiles knows that he's not the only one. It's a new year, a new start, and it's good.

#sterek #sterek fic #eternalsterek

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nocturna-starr · 4 years

Text

The Happiest of Birthdays

Prompt: Someone takes Dani to Build a Bear

Prompter: @currentlylurking

Length: 3097

Warnings: None

Today was one of the days Danielle regretted ever being adopted by wealthy parents. Her parents were gone, once again, on another business trip. Usually, that would mean she could travel anywhere in the city she desired, but her parents had increased the bodyguards watching her. The ghost girl couldn’t give the slip to ten bodyguards! She was stuck in the mansion.

It was her birthday, though no one knew. Danielle had claimed she didn’t know the day she was born to hide from Vlad. They were definitely not on talking terms and Danielle was doing everything in her power to avoid him. When she was adopted, her parents decided that her adoption day would be her new birthday.

She couldn’t blame them for missing her birthday. If she called phoned them now, they would be on the next flight home. Danielle couldn’t do that to them; they had spent years trying to get this contract. She would never forgive herself if the company lost a once in a lifetime opportunity because of her.

That was why she chose to spend the day locked in her bedroom and away from prying eyes. She didn’t have to wear anything elegant to impress anyone. She could put on her own sweater and red beanie. Her hair was allowed to be in a ponytail. Danielle could be her old self for a day.

Her old lonely self…

At first, Danielle had tried to occupy herself with the television. You could only watch so many episodes of The Waltons before one became bored to tears. Video games never interested her as much as they did Danny. The only thing left to do was a doodle, and she just didn’t feel inspired.

“May I come in Miss Danielle?” Casey asked, gently knocking on the door.

Danielle cringed. Casey was one of the only people in the household staff that wasn’t afraid to reprimand her for manners. She had already been the victim of a lecture in table manners earlier that morning. If Casey saw her now, the older woman would very well have an aneurism

“I’m sorry Casey but I am in the middle of something important. May you come back at another time?” Danielle hated how small she sounded.

“Very well Miss. Perhaps you could check under your bed for any misplace objects? It would make tidying the room easier.” Casey was also the only person who would order Danielle to do any cleaning up. The girl had tried resisting once, but after the hot sauce event, she just did what the woman wanted.

Danielle sighed but got off her bed then went on her hands and knees. She pulled out dirty clothes and a few books that had made their way down there. Then she noticed an old cardboard box. Originally, Danielle hid it underneath the bed to hide her freakiness from her new parents. She had forgotten she put it down there!

With a little effort, Danielle pulled the box out from beneath. It was heavier than she remembered. Perhaps she was too far out of practice. Delicately, Danielle unfolded the top. Part of her was curious to see what she deemed so important to hold onto from her old life.

The first thing she saw was her Fenton Thermos. The thing seemed to be operational if the full light was still working. Oops. She pulled out her old journal. Flipping through the pages reminded her about how much her handwriting had improved. She smiled when she spotted her favourite old t-shirt. How could she have forgotten it? It was the first gift she had ever received for her birthday…

“Happy Birthday to You!” Phantom and the Red Huntress sang as Phantom presented her with a birthday cake. Danielle beamed at her closest friends.

The three were currently sitting on a picnic bench in Amity Park’s only park. Their only company were the stars above them. Only Dani was in her civilian form. From what she understood, Danny and Valerie were in a tentative truce, neither was comfortable with the other. Still, the clone was touched that they would put their rivalry aside for her.

Both her closest friends stared at her. Dani looked back confused. What did they want her to do? She wasn’t going to grab a piece, there were flaming candles on that cake! The trio stood for a moment before Phantom was hit with a revelation.

“Make a wish,” He told her, green eyes twinkling, “Then blow out the candles!”

Blow out the candles? Wasn’t that unsanitary? Who knew what diseases she could accidentally give to Phantom or the Red Huntress! Still, a tradition was tradition… She closed her eyes and silently thanked the stars for friends like Danny and Valerie. She took a deep breath and blew out all the candles.

“What did you wish for?” the Red Huntress said. Danielle could almost hear the grin in her voice.

“Valerie! Don’t you know it’s against the rules for the Birthday Girl to tell her what she wished! Then it won’t come true!” Danny childishly reprimanded. The three sat in stunned silence, before bursting out laughing.

“You sounded like a four-year-old!” the Red Huntress giggled.

Danny only grinned in response. Dani had never seen her cousin like this before. It was awesome to see him so free and know he was a superhero. She thanked her lucky stars that she managed to live that long.

“In my family,” Valerie began, “It’s tradition to open one gift before cake.” She presented a prettily wrapped box. Phantom pulled out a gift bag from beneath the table. Both looked at her expectantly. They wanted her to choose?

Dani reached for the gift from Phantom. The Red Huntress nodded as if she expected her decision. Carefully, Dani took out all the blue tissue paper. Hidden among the flimsy paper was a t-shirt. It was gray, with the NASA logo on it.

“I heard you liked space.” Danny winked.

She tackled him in a hug, “THANK YOU SO MUCH!”

She always felt a little guilty for liking the exact same things as Danny. She often wondered if he resented her for not finding her own path. The shirt was a reassurance that he was not angry with her, rather he was encouraging her. It meant more than anyone would ever know.

“As sweet as this is, I think it’s time to cut the cake!” Valerie called.

Part of her felt guilty for forgetting Danny’s gift. She still wore one of the various necklaces Valerie gave her. She took off the sweater and put on the NASA t-shirt. It still fit her like a glove. The next time she went to Amity Park she would wear it.

Danielle turned back to see the rest of the contents in the box. She still had the credit card that she stole from Vlad. Did he even realize he was missing it? Danielle highly doubted that the billionaire noticed the few hundred taken every once in a while. Without a second thought, Danielle snapped it in half. Her collection of random Pokémon cards was haphazardly thrown in there. Then Danielle’s eyes caught on a photograph from her fourteenth birthday…

Danny, Dani and Valerie were standing in line for the biggest roller coaster in the entire state of Illinois, ‘The Raging Bull’. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement, and Valerie was keeping herself just as calm. Danny, on the other hand, was looking almost as pale as his hair.

Valerie noticed this and took it as an opportunity to tease the ‘Great Danny Phantom’. “What’s wrong? The hero of Amity Park afraid of heights?”

“I don’t like roller coasters,” Phantom replied, not taking the bait.

Dani barely paid attention to them. It was almost their turn! She could feel her heart flutter in anticipation. Valerie said that going on a roller coaster was just like flying but with no control. The phrasing intrigued Dani, so she begged to go to an amusement park for her birthday. Valerie was willing to grant the wish and guilt a reluctant Phantom to come along.

“Maybe I should get out of line. I don’t think I want to do this.” Phantom decided. Valerie was having none of it.

“Chicken. Look, even Danielle is excited. You’re a ghost! There is nothing you should be afraid of!” Valerie whispered the last part so that only the trio could hear.

“I don’t like roller coasters.” Danny reiterated. He tried to leave the line but the huntress grabbed his arm, “Please Val…”

“It’s our turn!” the birthday girl shrieked. The line pushed them towards the ride. Danny was practically shaking yet couldn’t phase out of Valerie’s grasp without getting some unwanted attention. He tried to convince the girls to sit in the middle, but they dragged him to the front.

“The only way to get the full experience is to sit in the front.” The older girl’s smirk was a bit too malicious. Dani didn’t care. She was finally going on the ride!

The ride was almost everything she hoped for, if only it were a little faster. Valerie was totally right; it was just like flying! She threw her hands up in the air and screamed. She was pretty sure her cuz was screaming profanities beside her. Good thing the screaming was loud enough that the kids behind didn’t hear him.

The ride was over way too quickly. With wobbly legs, she got out of her seat. Danny had to be helped out. She watched Valerie guide Danny to a nearby trash can. Maybe it was a bad idea to pressure him on the ride after all.

She looked away and tried to ignore the sounds of the boy trying to calm his stomach. She noticed a group of people around a kiosk. She wandered over there to see what they were selling.

“Do you want to buy a picture kid?” The guy in the kiosk asked.

“We’ll take three!” Valerie answered behind her.

A while later, Danny had been able to laugh about the event. When his friends found out, they refused to let him live it down. The picture hung proudly in his room, the last time she was there. Valerie was rather fond of the one piece of evidence that Phantom had a weakness.

She tried to figure out why Danny hated that ride. He didn’t seem to have any fear of the other rides. The only answer she got from Danny was “Clowns and Jell-O”. When she asked Sam and Tucker, they told her that it was a really complicated story.

The box still had other treasures she had not yet unearthed. She pulled out a bunch of keys she had put in there. What they were for, she had forgotten. Maybe her diary could remind her? An old bar of chocolate from Dubai was surprisingly intact. Seeing the chocolate made her long to go travelling again. She wondered if chocolate ever went bad…

At the very bottom of the box was a gift for her most birthday a year ago. Its blue button eyes looked up at her. Danielle pulled out the teddy bear she had gotten from Danny and Val.

“Shopping Spree!” Valerie cheered, “With a chauffeur to carry our bags for us! Are you excited or what?”

“Haha. You know I’m just as much a part of this as you.” Danny retorted. For the first time, he and Valerie were in civilian clothes together.

A few months ago, they told each other the truth. Danielle needed to mediate between the two for a while before they calmed down. They were at the point of calming down. It was awesome to finally not have to be careful what she said to her cuz.

“You and I both know that if you had it your way, we would spend all day at the arcade.” The older girl rolled her eyes.

“I think you have me confused with Tucker again.” The teen sighed, “Where do you want to go first, Dani?”

The pressure was all on her. She needed to find a place that both Danny and Valerie would be able to tolerate. She was curious to try the hair and nail salon. Danny wouldn’t enjoy the pampering. The comics shop looked awesome as well. Valerie didn’t seem to be interested in comics. She had no interest in going to the gloomy occult store. Finally, she spotted a store that she hoped everyone could agree on.

“Let’s go there!” She pointed at the brightly coloured store.

She gained two different reactions. Danny was unphased in the slightest, almost excited. Valerie gawked at her, then shook her head. The huntress headed towards Build-a-Bear with the two ghosts following behind her.

It was no surprise that the store was filled with little kids and their parents. The trio earned suspicious glares from some of the parents. Danny sweetly waved at them. He had been treated worse by those very same people before. It must have been downright friendly by now.

She followed her friends to the area filled with unstuffed animals. Her eyes widened. There were so many to choose from! Did she want a cat or a dog, a dragon or a pony? She spotted a plain white bear. Perfect.

Danny had chosen a sky-blue bear. Valerie got one of the black dragons. Once they were finished choosing, they headed over to the stuffing station.

The three friends joined a crowd of kids and their parents. Each of them was given a red heart and instructions not to lose it. Danny was also snuck a scrap of paper with a number on it.

“Okay, we need to wake up the heart. First jump on one foot.” The lady in charge of the area began.

Each step, Danny and Dani followed almost religiously. Valerie was more halfhearted. The instructions became more and more bizarre as they continued. Why did they need to rub their stomachs and stand on one foot? Some of the kids joined Valerie in barely trying. Seeing that she was losing her audience, the staff member decided to end the waking ritual.

“All bears require a wish for them to be brought to life. What do you want most?” the woman’s whisper was barely audible. She was trying way too hard to make it suspenseful.

“I with for ma tof ta grow bac” A little boy said sadly. The children around him snickered.

“I wanna be a pilot!” A girl yelled beside Dani.

“I wish that I could be as cool as Danny Phantom!”

I wanna be a ghostbuster too!”

“I want a pony, but mommy always says no!”

“I have to pee”

“I hope that my friend will go on a date with me!” Danny said just as cheerfully. The glares from before paled to the ones Danny was getting now. Even the lady with the instructions looked mad. Valerie subtly kicked him.

“EWWW!” one of the kids whined.

“You’ll like it when you’re my age.” Danny retorted, “Great. I sound like my dad!”

“I wish for more happy birthdays,” Dani said, hoping to ease the building tension. A few parents nodded, happy to get the attention off of Danny.

Once everyone had finished, they stood quietly in line while the poor worker focused on stuffing each individual bear.

“Hug it. Now is it perfectly stuffed for you?” She asked Dani.

Dani smiled, “Yep.”

“Give me the heart I gave you so, I can finish sewing your friend together.”

Dani watched her finish at lightning speeds. She must have been working there for months, if not years. She looked older than Danny and Valerie, and they were almost eighteen. It made it all the weirder that she gave Danny her number.

“Head over to the clothing section over there to get your bear some clothes. Then head over to the naming station.” The woman instructed. “Hey, cutie!”

Dani started to head over. She turned around to see a clearly uncomfortable Danny trying to avoid conversation. Served him right for bugging the kids! Valerie seemed to agree. She looked like the cat who caught the canary.

There were so many clothes for the bears, it was actually kind of weird. The price tags were just as confusing. Some of these things cost just as much as the darn bear! She ended stuck between a pink dress and a blue dress. Danny and Valerie joined her.

“The pink one is more in style,” Valerie told her.

“But the pink one is more expensive. I’m afraid I’ll lose it while travelling.” Dani explained

“Then get this! It’s always in style!” Danny sang.

The girls looked to see Danny holding up a white t-shirt with a strawberry in the center. Above it was the phrase “Berry Best” in cursive. Dani giggled at the pun while Valerie looked unimpressed. Unfortunately, his outburst had attracted a lot of kids.

“I want one!”

“Mr. Date, can you get me one?”

“Mommy! The man won’t let me have that!”

Neither of the trio ended up buying any clothing for the stuffed animals.

The naming station was the most uneventful part of the trip. Danielle secretly named her bear “Snowball”. Neither Danny nor Valerie would tell the names if their new “furry friends”. After paying for the bears, the three exited with their dignity barely staying intact.

“So, where do you want to go next?” Valerie asked.

Dani thought for a moment. They HAD done something everyone would like or at least be the same amount of embarrassed… “Why don’t we go to the salon?”

The only boy in the group frowned in resignation. “I guess you guys can go ahead. I’ll meet you in an hour?”

“I don’t think so, ghost boy. You’re coming with us!” Valerie laughed.

Danny paled.

Danielle started to put the things she pulled out, back where they had been kept. The only exceptions were the t-shirt, picture and the teddy bear. Those she decided would have a permanent spot in her room. She briefly wondered if Danny and Valerie had expected her to show up. They were in college now and knew she had been adopted.

A knock drew her out of her thoughts. She opened the door and saw no one was there except her guards. They gave her quizzical looks. She gave a small awkward wave and shut the door. That was really embarrassing…

She turned to see the two heroes of Amity Park waving at her from the window. She brightened.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom #valerie gray #danielle phantom

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kochampierniki · 4 years

Text

John Brannox x male, cardinal! Reader

Okay, I thought I won’t post it, because it’s my first fanfic and that’s like totally new, undiscovered “land” for me and I don’t feel confident, but I really like final effect. So I will just see, what will happen, lol.

Fandom: The New Pope Backstory: It all happens, when you with other cardinals arrive to Brannox’ manor to ask him, if he wants to become pope. You’re a bit frustrated, because it was supposed to be short trip, but he don’t give you easy answers. Notes: John Brannox x male, cardinal! Reader (or you can read it from ex: Gutierrez’ perspective), angst

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I was lying in bed with eyes closed, waiting for impulse to finally get up. My fingers were a bit cold, I could feel that fire died at night and the day is propably (again) foggy and cold. Rome was much warmer, milder. When will we get home? Maybe today he will tell us his answer? Sir John was constantly misleading us, keeping us in doubts, even when most of us was determined to already go back to Vatican. I'm not sure, if I was so excited to come back without him.

I got up with silent sigh and dressed more casual and functional - I kept my cardinal's suit for better occasion. In high, leather boots, khaki pants and long, dark coat I went for small breakfast and walk. At least I could enjoy some fresh air and landscapes, when it's not raining, right? I was sure most of cardinals are sleeping, because manor was truly silent. So I was quite astonished seeing sir John sitting in saddle and talking to his butler. Well, his mount wasn't most suitable choice - a bit too heavy, not royal at all, but with elegant and classy nobleman in saddle. I hadn't opportunity to get in saddle for years, so before I've stopped myself from asking unwanted questions, I said:

- May I join you, your Eminence?

He looked surprised, but accepted with short nod.

- Danny will prepare your horse and tell you, how to find me.

Find him? Now I raised my eyebrow, because he surely won't wait for me. A small doubt got into my heart, questioning if I should ride after him, because maybe he was just too polite to reject my company?

- Of course, thank you.

I followed Danny to stables, turning away to watch sir Brannox becoming smaller and smaller spot on sandy road. Butler was - as always - polite and gentle, smilling all the time, so I can't guess if I should follow his lord. - Do you think that his yes was honest?

- I believe so, your Eminence. I think he will be pleased by your company.

Danny showed me stables and much younger stable boy helped me choose and saddle up horse. My mount was more classy - energetic, young mare. She barely could stay in one place, was so focused on going forward. I followed Danny's instructions, at first just in walk, so this bay beauty could warm up a little. Then with firm impulse I ordered her to trot, she reacted even a bit too enthusiasthic. After few minutes of riding down the road, I began thinking, that I've lost way or was too slow, so sir Brannox was already home. Then I finally found him standing by riverbend, watching gray water flowing over the rocks. His horse was drinking and he surely wasn't in hurry. I stopped my horse next to him.

- I hope you I don't mind me interrupting your loneliness, sir John.

He smiled a little, but his eyes remained sad.

- I'm never alone, even now, your Eminence.

For a short while, he was just watching river...

- I used to ride with Adam, my twin brother. So he follows me also here... But that doesn't change a thing.

You should read beetwen the lines, to understand this man and his ambiguity - his honest laugh followed by tragic remainings of the past, melancholy and sometimes shadow of his parents disappointment.

- Well, I thought there are ghosts only in your manor, not by your side. And do you enjoy his presence?

- As a man of church, we shouldn't believe in ghosts and presence of shadows of the past. Don't we?

Another rethorical question and blind alley, he mentioned his brother few times, but never want to talk about it. He took reins in his hands and lead his horse back to the sandy road, I followed him trying to keep my overexcited mare in right pace. We both agreed, that our horses would enjoy some running, so we warmed them up in trot and then allowed them to stretch legs and a catch a bit of wind in canter. That wasn't easy to stay in saddle in trot, because my mount was so energetic, but her canter was much kinder for me. Then we gradually got back to walk and I recognized road - we were heading back to manor. A man with such strong personality as sir John won't answer, if he don't want to talk, so after longer pause I admitted:

- Astonishing landscapes. So simple, but also quite overwhelming. Fog was like gentle curtain covering soft, curvy hills. There are few small bushes with almost naked trees. Whole landscape was emanating with distance and melancholy.

- Overwhelming? Interesting choice of words.

- There are two ways to make human feel overwhelmed. First, when it's too much to handle - when everything is like waves slowly covering you and making breathing impossible. Second is just emptiness. It's just landscape, but right under your skin and maybe just by your heart you can feel, that this space is too empty. It's lack of what? I can't tell, but when we meet emptiness, we try to cover it by ourselves and that's often not comfortable...

He was listening carefully, I could tell even without looking at him. No interrupting, no polite smiles.

- ...because we are the hardest company for ourselves.

That touched him deeply, so he remained silent. In his manor he often ended conversation at such point and run away, but now? There was no escape and there was no chase, because I didn't continue this topic. I focused on the ride and long minutes later looked at John with surprise, when he asked me:

- What make it so difficult? - his eyes darkened with eyeliner met my eyes and I was sure, that his question wasn't just curiosity - To meet yourself, your Eminence?

- For me? I'm rarely enough for myself. It's hard to look at my mistakes and sins, when I know, I can be better, more succesful or loving. I can't accept my imperfection, even when I see, that others see me as a bright star on the sky and as mentor or guide. It's vanity, because I almost believe than I can be perfect as only God can be. And it's hard to live your whole life with person, that doesn't allow you to fail and make you feel guilty for it. Of course, you can ease this feeling, try to accept yourself, but it's long process.

He gently touched my arm.

- You shouldn't be so harsh for yourself. Such vanity could lead you to moral perfection, because you try to follow highest standards - god himself. And as his servants or maybe rather listeners, we know glory of sacrifice and living for others.

- Thank you - I barely replied with lump in my throat.

We were riding home in silence. I felt that I couldn't leave it like this. For the last few days I was watching him suffer, fighting with something only on his own - he won't allow anyone to help and my heart was just breaking. I wouldn't admit it loud, but I was ready to do almost everything to soothe his pain and make him smile - without this shadow of irony or sadness. But he was like well defended castle, we saw only, what he allowed us to see. Nothing more. I don't have to say, that this were rarely something personal. Manor was almost in front of us, when I looked at him with tenderness and said:

- I don't know, what make it so hard for you, sir John. But I know, that there is always way to get over the past and find peace for ghosts haunting you.

That was only hipothesis, that his problem is his brother or maybe barely living parents - he mentioned Adam too often, it was like open wound and like yelling for help without allowing anyone to get closer. He wanted change, but was he ready for this? Voiello was seeing this only as his deppresive side, oversymplyfying and ignoring his family issues, which can be obstacle in taking responsibility as a pope. And what's more important: in being good pope. One of previous pontifs Pius XIII showed us, how you can use papecy to deal with your own family issues and act as a little kid on most important position in roman church. At least he became more mature at the end, but I still wasn't convinced to him. For me he was too concerned on dogma, forgetting about people and also too focused on himself sometimes. Will John Brannox be good candidate? He was looking too much to the past, but was also great theoretist of middle way and charismatic, gentle material for new leader. I could feel, that he just have to open himself to become great pope.

- Thank you for company, your Eminence. I felt a bit less lonely at least for a while.

He shooked my hand with gentle smile of gratitude and strong gaze. Maybe he was defeated man, but not broken yet.

- That was pleasure, thanks to you.

My heart was wildly pounding in my chest, when I was watching him leading his horse back to stables. Well, now I was sure, that I'm not thinking about him only as a candidate for a pope.

#the new pope #new pope #john brannox #john malkovich #paolo sorrentino #fanfic #john brannox x reader #reader x john brannox #romantic #angst #john brannox imagine #young pope

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