#probably sounds stupid but i was having the shittiest day

[heartowan]

★WINTER VISITOR: jason todd x reader.

( first part here !! ; afab!reader, cuss words, smoking, sexual content ) ────────── ★

"It's you again." You murmured, your voice sounding extra quiet now that it was past midnight. You could see the tired look in his eyes as he sat down on the wooden floor of your porch, his legs stretched out in front of him, reminding you of the position he was in that day you found him bleeding right there, at that same spot.

It had been a few weeks, maybe two and a half... and there he was: the Red Hood, back at your house, looking up at you with those white shining eyes of his ridiculous helmet.

"Yeah, it's me." He said, and before you could even process or think about the modulated voice, he removed the helmet. Now, only the area around his eyes was covered by that little domino mask.

You didn't like smoking inside, so you often went out to the porch for this sole purpose. To smoke a blunt. It calmed you down, though you didn't enjoy the actual action of smoking that much. It was... er, alright.

You exhaled the smoke slowly, and that was when he noticed what you were doing. "Can I be really honest with you right now?" He murmured, still looking up at you. You offered a soft grunt as a response, and he continued: "I would never, ever, in any possible circumstance ever, guess that you were a stoner." He said, a light chuckle following his words.

You furrowed your eyebrows, something that you seemed to do a lot in his presence, but you weren't offended in the slightest.

"Well... uh, thanks?" You mumbled with little interest. "I do it mostly for the buzz."

"I guessed you'd say that." He teased, a little stupid grin on his lips, and you glared at him.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" You inquired, a faux-offended tone in your voice.

"Nothing, nothing." He snorted, leaning his head back against the wall.

"What are you doing back here anyway?" You asked, now moving to sit down close to him. Honestly, you didn't really mind that he was who he was right now. You were stoned, tired and... didn't give a shit. You'd probably still sit in the same spot if you were sober.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Was passing by and saw you out." He looked over at you, watching as you sat down beside him as he spoke. "Can I have a drag?"

"Sure." You mumbled, handing him the blunt. Woah, now you were gonna share saliva with him. Where the hell was your life going?

You mimicked his position, leaning your head against the wall. The night was freezing. You two probably shouldn't be outside, but you were covered in your warmest clothes, and he didn't seem to be cold, so you brushed your own concerns off.

"I looked you up, by the way." He murmured, handing you the little joint back. "Not much out there."

You arched one eyebrow at his words. Oddly enough, this time you weren't weirded out. "And you're admitting it?"

"Uh, yeah." He shrugged, letting out a soft huff. "Trying to make conversation or something." You laughed at that. What the hell was this guy's deal?

You didn't seem to be angry at him, so he kept talking to you. The whole thing was unusual for both of you. Talking to strangers (sorta) and being comfortable while doing so wasn't something that happened often in your lives.

You two spent hours and hours talking, even after you finished the blunt. It was nice, and even though it was still freezing, you two weirdly didn't bother by it. Maybe it wasn't that cold.

When you woke up the next day, you were in your bed, all tangled up in your sheets. You didn't even know how you got there, but you felt light, like you had a good night of sleep. Also unusual, because every time you smoked, you had the shittiest sleep of your life, but it seemed like this time had been different.

You picked up your phone, and as soon as you unlocked the screen, there was a text notification from a contact that you didn't recognize.

It was a red heart emoji, just that, and the text said: "If you're wondering, yes, I was the one who put you to bed. And yes, I snooped around your room 😝"

You rolled your eyes at that and tossed the phone down on the matress.

★...

More often than not, your few friends noted how affectionate you were. Always giving them little touches, brushing hair back, playing with the strands, fixing their clothes, stroking their arms with your fingers, even tying their shoelaces. It was all so you.

You didn't have many people close to you, and not because you were a loner, simply because you valued your hodiernal connections enough and didn't feel the need to look for anything else at the moment. You liked your friends, in fact, you loved them.

So, when that guy in the red helmet started showing up at your porch at ungodly hours at least three times a week, you started to consider adding him to your circle of friends. It wouldn't harm anyone, he was nice, and your friends wouldn't know anyway.

He was surprisingly talkative with you. You always expected those harsh and violent vigilantes to have harsh and violent personalities even when they weren't doing their job, but he was cool. He talked about a lot of things with you just to keep the conversation going, and you thought it was cute.

"... so... hey, did you get a new lamp?" He asked as he flopped down aggressively on your couch, interrupting his own line of thought. He was asking you about the neighborhood cat before.

You nodded at that, standing across from him while you fixed the little Christmas hat that had fallen off your bookshelf. "Yeah, the other one I had broke. I kinda bumped into it."

He hummed at your explanation, and you recognized the sound of his helmet being taken off. Always, as soon as he got comfortable in your house, he removed it.

While you had some trouble getting the Christmas decoration to stay in place, he stared at your back. Taking in your little green and red pajamas, your slightly messy hair, the dark green socks on your feet, and the way you seemed to be struggling terribly to get the Christmas hat to stay up. Adorable.

He stood from the couch and walked over to help you. "Let me try." He said, gently nudging your hands away. You sighed and let him.

You watched his concentrated face as he tried to put the little red and white hat in a position where its own weight wouldn't make it tumble. He looked nicer up close.

"It's Jason, by the way." He mumbled, eyes focused on fixing the hat. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Huh?"

"My name. It's Jason." He explained.

He already knew yours. You had told him a few weeks ago when you shared a blunt for the second time.

"Ah, alright." You mumbled back to him, trying not to sound surprising. Jason. It was a cute name, and it seemed to fit him. "Fits you."

He finally got the hat to stay up, and he turned to you with a big, proud smile. You found it quite adorable how much he smiled around you. You didn't know if he was like this all the time, but you chose to believe it was a unique thing.

You two just stared at each other for a moment, him proud of his achievement, and you thankful for his help.

"Do you know how profound your eyes are?" He blurted, making a stupid face at you. Truly, he was gazing deeply into your eyes.

"If this is you trying to hit on me, you're failing." You retorted, a little smile appearing on your lips.

"Just saying." He shrugged, stepping back a bit. "I fixed your hat. You're welcome."

You watched as Jason walked back to your couch, flopping down onto it once more and letting out a lazy groan. His eyes closed, and he let out a tired sigh.

"Rough night?" You murmured, sitting down beside him. Your couch was comfortable and fit up to three people. Most of these nightly visits were spent in it, talking away. It was all too cozy.

Recently, he had started placing his arm around you when you sat closely, that and gently caressing your hair. And, this time, it wasn't different. As soon as your head touched his shoulder, his arm was around you, and his fingers started threading through your hair.

When you got closer, spending time with Red Hood Jason became something like spending time with yourself. Despite the absurdly different lifestyles, you two had a lot in common.

Like physical touch as a love language, liking sweet tea, reading, staying up until dawn, and, of course, being each other's secret. Nobody knew about your midnight visitor, and nobody knew where he went when he became unreachable past midnight.

"Yeah, rough night." He said, his voice becoming softer as he steadied himself with your help, the help of your presence, of your proximity. "Just, like, lots of stupid people making my job even harder."

"I get it." You murmured, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He was to your left, his right hand playing with your hair while you half-rested your back on his chest. It wasn't awkward anymore. You weren't even sure it ever was. "It used to be like that at my old job, and then I got a job at that little bookstore close to Gotham U."

"Mmm." He nodded, tilting his head a little in your direction, but his eyes remained closed. "You think you'd recognize me if I went there in my normal clothes?" There was a faint smile on his lips as he muttered those words.

"Probably." You said smuggly. "That little mask doesn't hide much."

"True," he chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering open to look down at you. They still look tired, and you had no idea if you'd ever see him looking not-tired. Maybe cause you've never seen each other after a good night of sleep. "But, they hide the most important part of my face. You can see the color of my eyes, yeah, but you don't know what's the shape of them or anything."

"Makes sense. Yeah, I think I wouldn't recognize you at first, but I'd recognize your voice, for sure." You said.

"What? Is it special or something?" He smiled at you, his fingers giving your ear a light, playful tug. "I bet you wouldn't recognize that either."

You gasped dramatically, hand cluching chest as you looked at him with the dumbest smile on your parted lips. "How dare you doubt me?" You inquired, your tone dripping of sarcasm.

"I mean..." he mumbled. "I guess you might recognize it. I don't know... we'll- we might see it one day." He fumbled over his words, his cheeks reddening. You got him flustered by making fun of him.

You wondered if that guy snuggled up with you on your couch, mumbling and fumbling over his words because of you was the same guy that beat and killed criminals in the deeps of Gotham. How could he be so... him? People have layers, yes, but this man is unbelievable.

Everything went quiet for a few minutes, only the faint sounds of your breathing and the soft hum of the heater could be heard, but those were muffled by the pull of your gazes on each other. He couldn't stop staring at your face, at your nose, at your lips, at your forehead, at your eyes. Like he'd never seen something so flawless, so polished, so complete ─ all he needed.

And you stared at him, at his mask, at the paint around his blueish-green eyes, at his chapped, but rosy pouty lips, at his straight nose, at his cheekbones, his chin, the white and black locks that fell on his forehead, his ears and the small earings on them. Like you'd never seen someone so unique, that seemed to be right there for you. Just for you.

You sighed when the staring contest became too much, but neither of your gazes strayed. His eyes focused on your lips, and you'd recognize that look in any light.

"Can I be really honest with you right now?" You murmured, and you could see a little smile creeping on his lips when he registered your words. Or, his words. He offered a soft "mhm" in response. "I want to kiss you so fucking bad. I think I might die if I don't."

"You might die?" His tone was soft, slightly mocking. "I don't think I'd like for that to happen."

"It'd be all your fault..." you taunted, giving him ridiculous puppy eyes. But, he was ridiculous too, and they worked so well on him.

He simply chuckled at you, and in half a second, his hand in your hair was used to push your head closer to his face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in the softest kiss you've ever shared with someone. It was lazy, he wanted to adjust to your pace, to let you guide, and you kept it deliciously slow and delicate, your heads moving and lips touching each other in a way that was simultaneously so tender and so sensual.

His hand slid to your cheek, holding you closer and caging you in his embrace while you raised a leg and placed it right on top of his, draping it over his lap, almost to mimic his hold on you. He used his left arm to pull you even closer by that same leg, your chests touching as the kiss became more intense and your tongues met.

He parted his lips to invite it, and you gladly accepted, sliding it inside of his mouth and caressing his own languidly and in a pleasant way, earning a hum from him that you swallowed in your kiss.

The feeling of your lips on his, his hands on you, his tongue on yours... way more satisfying than you'd ever imagined. You didn't think he'd feel so good on you.

His hand on your leg pulled you on his lap, the kiss becoming sloppy as you both shuffled on the couch to get you into a straddling position, each one of your thighs beside and squeezing his, your knees digging into the soft cushions of the couch as the kiss started getting a little more intense.

After all this time knowing and wanting each other, even if the attraction was suble, you'd expected wildness, despair, hands clutching clothes, teeth clashing, lips being biten, but that wasn't happening. What was in the air was need, tenderness, longing, and comfort, almost like it was a normal Thursday.

But it wasn't, and the both of you knew that. It was something new, something that you had yet to explore with the other. You were, of course, stepping into uncharted territory, a land which you knew nothing about. How would it be from now on? He'd still come almost every night? You'd still text constantly? Would you still call him in between your breaks to gossip about your boss? Would things get difficult and complicated?

These thoughts made you pull back from the kiss. Fucking anxiety. The pleasant and wet pop of your lips parting would've made you smile if you weren't so preoccupied. "Sorry." You mumbled into his lips. "Thinking too much."

"Don't worry, I get it." His nose brushed yours, and his heavy, warm fingers slipped under your shirt. He was panting a little, his cheeks, lips and neck flushed. He wanted you so bad. "If... you just want to chill and hang out like we usually do, we can just try to go back to that. Don't overthink it, okay? This doesn't doesn't have to be complicated."

You furrowed you eyebrows at him. "I don't see how this would not be complicated." He smiled at you, at your words, at whatever. He was, honestly, just glad to have you there, on top of him, speaking to him with your pretty voice after he had your tongue down his throat.

"I mean... like, don't think too much. I know it's easier said than done, but I think we'll figure it out anyway." He explained, his words sounding so sweet as he obviously spoke in a way that you just knew was an attempt to comfort you. "I don't wanna sound stupid and mushy, I really don't, but... yeah, I want with you... whatever you want with me. As long as you're happy and satisfied."

"Jason, what the hell do you mean?" You mumbled, narrowing your eyes at him. He laughed at your tone.

Saying his name felt weird. Until some time ago, you only called him Red Hood. But it also felt right, felt closer, deeper, maybe even made you feel warmer inside. The both of you.

"That I like you and I'm happy to be here, doing this with you." He said. "I don't know if it's too fast, maybe it is, but I'm in for it if you are."

Jason squeezed your waist, his eyes glued to yours as he waited for your response. His fingers caressed your skin, the palms of his hands heating up your sides while the pads of his digits squeezed your soft derm.

"I like you too." You whispered, almost afraid of your own words, but he was just marveled about how sensitive and sincere you sounded. "I'm in."

He offered you a gentle smile, warm and inviting, and you smiled back, your eyes crinkling at the corners. That sight reminded him of something.

"Take it off for me?" You looked confused at his request, a little curious pout on your lips. "The mask." Oh.

Carefully, your fingers reached for the black domino mask around his eyes. Even though you were excited to finally see what was under there for so long, you weren't hesitant. It peeled off easily, and you caught a glimpse of his temple once you started pulling it away ─ in five seconds, there he was. Jason.

He had black paint smeared around his eyes, but you could see him clearly even under the dim, warm lighting of your living room. You two were so close that you could see almost all of his lower eyelashes, but the top ones merged with the paint. You couldn't take that.

You wiped the oily paint away with the bottom of your shirt, just hoping it was washable. He simply let you. And in a minute, you finally had him there. All of him, all of his face.

"Your eyes are pretty." You murmured, hands now coming up to craddle his face. "Like, the shape."

"You think?" His voice was low and soft as he asked, and he received a nod in response. He loved when you complimented him, and you didn't do it often. "Kiss me?"

You just nodded again. You'd never dare refuse him. Your met him in a more certain kiss this time, now used to each others lips. He squeezed your waist once more, pulling you closer to him as the kiss intensified. Your clothed cores rubbed and chests pressed together with the movement, and you two grunted at the contact.

Your hands slid down to his shoulders, then to his biceps. You just had to grasp at them. And his own went up to your back, making you tingle. It was already too much, yet not enough.

You moved your hips against his, searching for more of that sensation from just a few seconds ago, and in no time, he was guiding the movements, his hands on your waist, moving you back and forth. The friction was delicious, and it made you both moan in each other's mouths, the sounds making everything so much more pleasant.

His mouth left yours only to press at your cheeks, going up to your temples, and then back down to kiss under your ear, then all over your neck. He just wanted to swallow you whole, but while he couldn't do that, he'd have to settle for kissing you all over.

He painted your neck with red marks, his lips sucking and leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach. Your hands went to his hair, sometimes tugging at his locks, sometimes caressing his scalp. He couldn't get enough of your touch, of your body against his, of your skin. He needed you.

You kept moving against him, rubbing yourself on his crotch to try and soothe the want you felt inside. You couldn't feel that much through your pants. They were thick to keep you warm, but you felt hot enough already.

Jason's hands around your waist lifted you up from his lap with ease, then guided you down to lay on your back on the couch, and you pushed some pillows to the floor on the process so you could fit better. He straddled your hips and pulled his shirt off all while you stared up at him with your pretty eyes.

You didn't hold back when you felt the urge to touch him, your fingers tracing his abs so carefully, caressing all of the skin you could reach without sitting up. His skin was littered with scars, and the ugly gash from before was healing slowly ─ it was still a red, long scar on his chest, its color showing that it wasn't fully healed yet, but much better than before. It wasn't that deep of a wound, but with him constantly having people beat him, neither of you expected it to heal quick and gracefully.

"I want you." You murmured quietly, a little embarrassed of your own words, but they were the ultimate truth. You wanted Jason and anything he could offer to you at that moment.

His eyes followed your hands, and he placed one of his on top of yours, pressing your fingers against his skin. "I'm yours." He whispered, and you wondered if he meant right now or from now on.

You looked back up in his eyes, and you felt heat pooling at your lower belly when you noticed the look in them. Like he wanted to consume you, and you wanted him to. Right now.

His hands lifted your shirt, bunching it up past your chest as he leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth while his fingers softly grazed the other, caressing it. You slipped your fingers in his hair again, pushing his head against you, and you felt him move his hips against yours once more.

With that, you could feel how much he wanted you as well, as the bulge in his thick pants pressed against you even through the heavy layers. You wanted those heavy layers off.

"Jason," you mumbled his name, hands gently squeezing his shoulders. "Take your pants off."

You heard him let out an amused huff at your request, and he went back up to his previous position, looking down at you. He guided your hands to his belt, and you knew what to do.

Swiftly, your fingers unbuckled it, pulled it out of the loops, and tossed it to the floor of your living room, you both heard as it landed on the mat with a soft thud. You went for his button next, then for the zipper. You caught a glimpse of his black boxers, salivating at the mere view of them.

He helped you push his pants down and then tossed them to the floor as well. When he was free of his, he yanked yours away without warning, making you let out a surprised yelp, in which he delighted himself.

He laughed at the sound you made while he removed your green socks, and you glared up at him for surprising you. "Not funny." You muttered, but he shrugged playfully at you.

He leaned down to nuzzle your neck after he removed your shirt as well, the gesture reaking of the affection he felt for you. His hands splayed on your stomach as his lips and nose caressed your senstive skin, and you squeezed at his arms, your legs sneaking past his and wrapping around his hips.

His hands went for your ankles, caressing the back of them as he dived back into your chest and then down to the valley in between your breasts, then to your stomach, and then to the place where you wanted him the most.

His hands went back up to your sides now, but he brought one down to caress you through your panties, brushing a finger over the damp spot in them, and then one over your clit. He smiled at how your thighs pressed on his shoulders and then at you when his eyes found yours.

He kept rubbing that same spot through the thin fabric, stimulating your clit, but not too much. He knew you wanted more, both of you did, but he wanted to savor that moment, and you appreciated that, even if you were dying for him to just pull those panties off and have his way with you.

Jason hooked one of his fingers onto the waistband of your underwear and finally pulled them off. Unlike the rest of his clothes, he didn't toss those on the floor, placing them on the beside you instead so you wouldn't have trouble looking for them later.

He looked down at you, exposed to him for the first time, his mouth salivating at the sight of you wet, swollen, and flush all because of him. He didn't have the strength to tease you anymore in that moment. He just dove in.

His hand that was toying with you before went back to your empty side, pulling your body closer to him so he could properly burrow his face in your pussy while he ate it, and then it moved to press at your lower stomach, urging your orgasm on. His tongue lapped at you, into your soaked folds and at your swollen bud, which he sucked so carefully to make you feel pleasure and only that.

He kept a steady rhythm, using your moans and gasps as a guide for his pace. Your fingers played with his hair while you rolled your hips against his face, rubbing your cunt on him, using his mouth for your pleasure. He was so good at that, at making you feel good.

He slipped his tongue inside of you once or twice to test the waters, and you whimpered at that. He couldn't wait to bury himself in you. He pulled away from your weeping cunt, only to slip his boxers off, revealing his flushed length.

You pushed up to your elbows to have a better view of him, and he looked divine from head to toe. The messy hair that you had been toying with, his flushed face, neck, and chest looked so good under the warm lighting of the room, his hard and leaking girth that looked like it was made to fit you, the pathetic needy expression on his face, and yours probably looked the same too.

He let you take your time, let you stare at him. Your eyes were hungry, and so here his. You looked all perfect down there, looking at him, with your cheeks flushed, lips parted, messy hair spilling on the pillow, your beautiful body and legs spread for him. God, he wanted you more than he ever wanted anything.

Jason licked his lips, and once he'd had enough of your staring contest, he pulled you closer again by the legs. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated, needy kiss, each one of his hands being placed beside your head to support his body while it covered yours.

Your hips were aligned, and he purposefully let his throbbing cock brush your soaked heat, giving you a little taste. It all felt so good, so right. Your arms went around his neck while they could, tugging him close, pressing your chests together, squeezing your breasts against him.

"Pull out, right?" He mumbled into your mouth, his eyes looking hazy. You nodded lazily. "M'kay."

He reached down in betwen you, not wanting to separate his body from yours, he wanted to feel the heat of your chests together. Carefully, he slid the head of his dick in between your folds, dipping it in your juices and rubbing it on your clit to make you even more needy for it, and then slowly, he slid the tip into you, a satisfied groan leaving his mouth. It was surreal, it already felt so good and he wasn't even all the way in.

You sighed in satisfaction, your eyes closing and your head tipping back against the pillow. You scratched his back gently, the slow scrape of your nails on his skin matching the languid rhythm he used to slide into you, stretching out your channel with ease. You were so fucking wet. He was met with no resistance, you wanted him there.

Despite being your first time together, it didn't feel awkward. It didn't feel confusing or complicated. It was him and you, just like always. Comfortable.

He let you adjust to his size, his lips peppering your jaw with tender kisses as you got used to the stretch and waited for the mild burning sensation to cease. Felt so easy with him.

Jason felt you move against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock, and he smiled on your soft skin. He pushed up again to look down at you, his arms still on either side of your head. With your legs around his hips, he started moving, meticulously thrusting into you, searching for the most sensitive spots, feeling every inch of your gummy, warm walls hugging his length.

It felt like heaven, finally being inside you. Everything with you was so good.

He picked up the pace as you started breathing heavier, your eyes closing as you let yourself enjoy every single thing about this moment, about him in you. Pistoning in and out of you in a needy rhythm, he grunted and groaned so deliciously, blessing your ears with his sounds.

You felt yourself nearing the edge even more with each thrust. It all felt so intense. He mirrored your feelings, his eyes squeezing shut as he held back his own release, trying to hold up so you could come together.

Neither of you could speak at that moment, not even to mumble words of praise, the pleasure consuming your minds with equal intensity, taking up every space in your brains. You couldn't delay it anymore.

Your walls clenched around him, and you gasped, whimpered, and moaned at the sensation. You couldn't control the sounds coming out of you. Your eyes closed once again as your lips stayed parted, heavy breaths coming out of them.

As you squeezed his cock in pleasure, Jason had to muster all of his self-control to be able to pull out of you before he spilled all of his seed inside of you and fucked everything up. He couldn't break your trust like that. He pulled out, and in less than a second, his white, hot, and thick cum spilled all over your stomach and pelvis. He'd never cum like that before, so desperately. The sounds he made while he let his liquid pour over your skin without even having to milk it out with his hand were ungodly, so fucking lewd.

"Fuck," Jason gasped, his head slumping forward as he panted on top of you. "S'good." He mumbled.

You cracked a small smile at that, fingers going back to scratching his back when you could finally concentrate on something other than your orgasm taking over your body.

"So good." You echoed, eyes closing as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in the mixture of your scent with the smell of sex in the air.

"I'm not moving from here." He warned in another lazy mumble, his arms snaking around your waist. You chuckled at him.

"Okay." You muttered softly, one of your hands going to play with his hair. "We'll stay here."

"We'll stay here." He echoed your words as well, letting out a tired yet satisfied sigh.

Your eyes drifted up for the window for a second, and you noticed it was snowing again outside. It was all so magical, even if you were feeling sweaty and sticky.

You sighed, the sight of the snow falling relaxing you as well as Jason's body on top of yours, warming you up.

Wait, was the window open all this time?

☆

a.n: hello! I hope this is cohesive enough and not too too fast. it's my first time ever writing smut, so i really wanted to focus on that. thanks for reading!

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - “Harder, Daddy”. “Son?!?” “🤨”

@bubblegumbeech @library-of-cronos @ghostboidanny @ecto-mochi @miss-nov @thegayonthemoon

Danny always knew that it wouldn’t always be as easy and stuff the Box Ghost into the thermos, but maybe facing his most dangerous threat would turn out to be the best kind of ‘threat’. After all, Danny never really looked like Jack and Maddie, and they were never great parents. It’s said that a parent will always recognise their child, no matter one; and they didn’t recognise him.

:Chap. 1:

The Past’s Now With Us

Danny was expecting a lot of things when he went to pull the sword out of the ground, everything that happened after was not any of them. He didn’t expect Vlad to be shocked and horrified. He didn’t expect to suddenly have all of Amity in the ghost zone. He didn’t expect to be beset by skeletons. He didn’t expect the Frightknight’s sword to fly out of his hands; yet again, he should definitely expect that to happen by now. He didn’t expect the giant of a ghost to shout about surrender and then try and goddamn ghost tazer him and Vlad. He also didn’t expect for the giant ghost to apparently just drop him and Vlad then up and leave. The fuck kinda ghost just smacks you around to then leave you on the ground in a heap?

Even Vlad was weirded out and confused; enough so that he completely abandoned his apparent most recent psycho plan. Also, what was up with Vlad and stealing peoples shit? And why did he ever think stealing from the king of all ghosts and the literal personification of fear and Halloween was a GOOD IDEA??? He also lost the ring so, suck on that dumbass; he deserved to have the shittiest of days.

Either way Danny’s still got a fight to face, Vlad’s fucked off, Valerie’s hurt (because of him), and Sam and Tuck are worried about him doing stupid reckless shit. Not too weird but still, Pariah was still confusing him though.

“YOUNG ONE! HEAR MY DECREE!”.

Ah. Danny feels like he might be getting singled out here.

Tuck blinking, “dude, you didn’t even get to talk to him and he’s still targeting you?”.

Sam frowning, “I still don’t think you should do this”.

“FACE ME IF YOU DESIRE DEATH!”.

Danny glances at the red clouds then down to Sam, “I don’t think I have much of a choice, Sam. Plus, I’ll be fine. I can totally do this”.

Sam grumbles, “idiot. But fine, just… don’t be stupid”. Tuck adding, “stay safe, dude”.

“I think I’ve already fucked both those up”.

They glare but still stand by the shield to lower it.

“GO INVISOBILL!”.

Oh he hates that so much. “IT’S Phantom! DANNY! PHANTOM!”. By the zone, let them remember that!

The literal army is a bit much, there’s skeleton dragons! The suit is awesome though, he’s blasting and tossing around skeletons like this is a goofy game.

Then his friends drop all his enemies off, that have apparently decided to fight as his own personal army apparently.

“THE BUBBLEWRAP! OF DEATH!”.

Danny’s surprised the bubble wrap attack actually works. “Huh. That actually worked, go Boxy”. Johnny chuckling, “hey, I’m surprised too”.

Skulker nearly snarling but sounding too desperate to really have any threat to him, “now go! Defeat him! So I’ll be free to hunt you for another day!”. really? REALLY? That’s what the guy goes with?

Danny turning to Ember, “he’s your boyfriend”, she smirks at him, “I’m just saying, you do know what standards are, right?”. She smacks him over the battle suits head with her guitar for that; fair enough.

Either way he’s now got to face the king… the king of all ghosts… probably half-ghosts included. He knows he said he’ll be fine, but really? Probably not a chance. Nope. Hello full death for him. That’s not gonna stop him from trying though.

His entrance is dramatic.

Pariah greets him dramatically in kind, he has a fucking mace of all things, “little ragged ‘round the edges, eh my child”.

Does this guy just think that all ghosts belong to him or something? Talk about egotistical, at least Vlad pretended he didn’t think Danny was ‘already his son’. still Danny jumps forward and more or less asks to cut the witty banter bullshit and just fight. Partly because he’s already kinda tired and partly because he expects to get his ass kicked; he’d rather not beat around the bush on that one. He’d prefer for his second death to be far less painful than the first. He vaguely wonders if Skulker legit believes Danny stands a hairs breath of a chance.

“I think not, I reject your terms”.

What? Why? Is this some ‘I’m going to demand you kneel before me’ crap? Or like does this guy want an ‘official’ duel? “And why not?”, if Danny can talk his way out of this then hot damn, he might actually be fine, his mouth is his best weapon after all.

“You shall see soon”. And then the guy launches at him with the mace. Talk about mixed messages. Danny obviously deflects the mace, like duh, it’s… a massive drain on his energy though. To say he does not feel good is an understatement.

But instead of looking insulted, or angry, or just annoyed; the ghost looks… concerned? Danny’s also fairly sure the guy let Danny’s echo-beam hit him and push him back.

Danny gets thrown into a wall.

Danny gets blasted into the ground.

Danny blocks a thrown sword. Then ten thrown swords.

Danny tries to avoid fire.

Danny is tired.

Pariah is not.

Pariah gets thrown into a chair.

Pariah gets smashed by an orb.

Pariah doesn’t seem to be taking actual damage.

Pariah is not taking actual damage.

Danny is screwed.

“You can’t possibly win”.

Danny is pretty aware of that, but Danny is also a tricky bastard that doesn’t fight fair nearly as much as Vlad seems to think he does. Pariah plus coffin is all Danny actually needs.

Danny’s about to have a duplicate blast Pariah away when the ghost picks his real self up by one arm, when, “this suit is a burden on you, my child. It is pointless to test you with this, we are wasting our time”.

Great, now the guy’s playing games with him again. “You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m falling for that one”. Danny’s clone blasts him, but Pariah creates a shield and it bounces off easily.

“Enough of this”, with a finger snap all of Danny’s duplicates are just gone; crushed by pure ectoplasmic power. Okay yeah, beating up your own king with items of ‘unlimited power’ wasn’t really a winning fight. He had been planning to just… shoot off the guys crown, which would be kinda stupid if it actually worked, wouldn’t it? Then, like, kick him into the crazy guy coffin jail, which was also probably a pretty fucking dumb plan. Eh he’s worked with stupider. It was less stupid plan than ‘guess I’ll die’, which was the current trend. So Danny says one of the stupidest things he’s ever said on the possible brink of double death, of death two point oh, of the full big flop, “squeeze harder, daddy-o”, fuck if he’s gonna die or be ended, he was gonna do it on a really fucking dumb joke. Tuck would be proud, maybe his full ghost ass will get to tell him.

“My aim is not to break your arm, son”.

…

Is Danny being taken seriously? What does he do with this? How old is this guy??? Should… should he play along?

Pariah drops him unceremoniously, huffing, “leave behind that foolish contraption and follow”, and just stalks off. Guess Danny’s playing along? Or playing nice? He doesn’t know. Danny abandons the suit before the king decides to try beating him around again and follows behind very awkwardly, the two passing The FrightKnight, who gives Danny a confused look, Danny shrugs exaggeratedly back. He didn’t know either okay! This king guy was crazy crazy! Pariah’s voice rumbling in his knights general direction, “any who enter, end them”.

The FrightKnight bows immediately, “as you desire, my liege”, and goes to stand guard by the doors that Danny brutalised.

Another thing Danny didn’t expect? For him to be walking after a psycho king into a throne room with a strange age shifting ghost that just screamed powerful. Pariah’s voice booming out, “care to explain? To me? To him?”.

The cloaked ghost doesn’t so much as turn around, “It was for the best”.

Pariah roaring, “you let me believe him ended!”.

Danny has so many questions and not only are they not getting answered, they’re getting added to instead.

At least the cloaked ghost turns around this time, “and they would have ended him, there was no other future wherein he survived”.

“And you couldn’t tell me!”.

“No”.

Danny standing here awkwardly watching too clearly super old and super powerful ghosts bickering, wondering if he should try and take a cheap shot. See this? That train of thought? Is why he gets himself into so many messes. It’s also why so many jerks liked to pick fights with him.

Okay think, Danny, this place is huge right? There’s gotta be something he can use to, like, disable Pariah or at least annoy him enough to give up on his mass domination plan. These two are distracted by their bickering match.

“-I was going to take everything away from them!”.

“They wouldn’t have believed him gone otherwise”.

“I still shall take everything from them”.

“Do you believe I do not agree with that?”.

Danny has tried to ‘slink off’ as subtly as he can, considering he was still short and skinny -which was often annoying as fuck- that wasn’t too hard to do. This king’s got scrolls, a lot of random skulls, fur pelts, really old looking jewellery, a weird stack of chairs, baby clothing? Weird-

“If you did this all so I would seek to strip them of some power-”

“I can assure you it was not, Sæti”.

Danny side-eyeing the two, that was said with some, uh, very specific kinda fondness. Was this, like, a couples bickering match??? Why is Danny being dragged into this? Yes Johnny and Kitty considered him, unfortunately, to be their go to for ‘couples counselling’, but come on! And the size difference between these two ghosts must make things interesting. Tuck would have some choice words, Danny’s choosing not to think about that; considering it would probably be the same shit Tuck said about Danny’s own folks and their height difference. Oh hey! A really big hammer! Danny absolutely can’t pick it up. Damn. Because if the ‘knocking off his crown’ plan was going to work, doing it with a comically large hammer would have been totally awesome.

“We never even got to name him! You could not have had the sense to wait that long?!”.

“Kjært barn har mange navn, Pariah“. (A beloved child has many names, Pariah)

Great, now there’s an entirely new language getting involved, Danny will question why the hell he can understand it later. At this point he’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, their kid he’s guessing, but why is he involved in this shit? He ain’t no goddamn ghosts kid! Is ghosts -half ghosts included- trying to adopt him just going to be a theme in his half life? Why! Hey look, a podium with an ominous sword on it. Score! There’s little images of some other guy with the same green crown getting stabbed with the sword by the Pariah guy all over it. A king killer sword? That is exactly what he needs! Look mom! He’s actually got a plan now!

“What of him now? Has he been alone? Could you not have released me yourself if you knew? ClockWork!”.

Oh cool, Danny got a name for the guy with a goddamn clock in his chest. He totally should have figured it would be clock-related.

“He had the upbringing that was needed, that did not include us”. The Pariah ghost actually throws something at the ClockWork guy. Clocky avoiding it easily. “I do not regret what I did”.

Pariah’s, “you never do”, is weirdly gentle; way too much like when Danny’s dad was trying to down play being a giant of a man.

“And think, what does it mean if we’re seeing him again now?”.

“…”.

Danny manages to get himself up on the podium, why did it have to be so long?, crouching for balance since he was frankly still exhausted.

“I would recommend against touching that, Skatten” (treasure).

Danny stills and goes wide-eyed, side-eyeing the Clock ghost who was now staring at him looking amused. Danny is tempted to hiss like a cat and try to knock down the sword. Pariah following Clock’s line of sight, eyeing Danny, and sighing tiredly; did that mean Danny was succeeding in at least maybe annoying the guy out of world domination? Danny blinks, “and why not?”

Clock guy just looks more amused, “because you do not want to end Pariah”.

Danny looks at the sword then back to the ghosts, “I don’t?”. Danny did. That was kinda the point. Or at least make the guy go back to his forever sleep.

Clock shakes their head, Pariah glares at clock, “You have been watching him this whole time”.

“…”. The clock ghost doesn’t respond.

“I haven’t received such a privilege”, Pariah then looks to Danny, “no, you do not. There are many things we have to talk about”.

Danny is still confused, but he’s going the hedge his bets or whatever, “we do?”. Danny is still on the podium, he currently has no intention of moving; since he might be able to move fast enough to grab the sword and at least throw it at the king… so long as it’s not stuck in the podium anyways. “And are you gonna keep trying to beset my town with a whole ass army?”.

That question apparently pleases the king, “so you have already claimed some lands as your dominion”. Clock grinning and nodding, “his approval rating amping the citizens has gone up”.

Danny makes a face at the clock ghost, “how do you know that?”, thank fuck his approval has gone up though. You’d think after playing hero for this long everyone would already be on his side by now. But noooooo, he was a ghost and there was still all this bigotry bullshit.

Both ghosts seem amused now, Clock ghost tilting their staff a little dramatically, “I’m the ancient of time, I have seen everything you have ever done, could ever do, are currently doing, and will ever possibly do”.

Ah. Wow. Ha. Danny is so fucked. Well… they’re were playing nice, now at least anyways. Or well to be fair, the clock one never actually did anything, that he knows of. “Congrats on having the most excessive power set I’ve run into yet?”. What else is he supposed to say to that?

Clock eyes Pariah, “reminds you of someone, no?”. And Pariah actually laughs -how is this going well for Danny- back at that, “I believe I was far more aggressive when we first met”.

Danny shuffles, moving to just be sitting lazily on the podium, he’s still not getting down, “well Clocky here hasn’t tried to fist fight me yet, or lay siege to my town, or taser me for that matter”.

Clock smirks, “you and I both know that if you thought you could win, you’d try”.

“That’s not a lie”. Danny was a combative mother fucker alright? It didn’t help that basically every ghost he’s ever met has wanted to throw hands with him….

Pariah huffs, it’s almost a sigh, “I suppose it’s better you have more caution than I”.

Clocky’s, “it most certainly is, though it is by only a fraction”, is scolding.

Danny blinks, okay, um, he’s not sure what to do here so, “are you two like, a thing? Are y’all having just the most dramatic couple problems ever, or something? Is abducting towns a romantic gesture?”.

“Yes”.

“No”.

Danny makes a face, “ah so I’m not the only confused one here. Gotcha”. Is Danny fishing for answers? Obviously. Because he’d really like to have some.

ClockWork makes a ‘well go ahead’ gesture with their hand and floats back some. Pariah looking from Clocky to up at Danny on the podium, “did you or did you not recognize me as your father earlier? For you are undoubtedly my son”.

“I was making an, admittedly, really stupid joke! ‘Daddy’ has, other, meanings”. Oh zone, this guy thinks he’s actually, like legit, his actual father. What the hell? Danny’s used to Boxy’s delusions of power, but this was a whole different kind of delusion; and one Danny was far less interested in encouraging. “You, ah, got proof for this shit though? Cause last I checked I already have parents”.

Pariah looks back at Clocky, “explain”.

“I wasn’t about to allow him to be left unattended or grow up isolated”.

Danny sticks up a hand, “uh yeah, explain that a little more, what the fuck”. Is this clock guy claiming that he, what?, dropped Danny off with the Fenton’s and they either didn’t notice they magic-ed a son out of nowhere or just never told Danny????

…

Okay considering they hadn’t noticed he died that made more sense than it should. Or that Vlad hated dads -Jack’s?- guts. Or that ghosts definitely had actual emotions. Or a lot of things.

Danny pointing at Pariah, “and haven’t you been in a coffin for, like, whole ass centuries?”. Danny’s questions are only growing.

Clocky hums, “time is but a suggestion, one I have no difficulty twisting to my own desires should they be preferable”. Great. Is this guy claiming Danny’s a damn time travel baby??? What has his life come to. Danny did not sign up to be part of this soap opera!

Pariah floats up to be more on even eye level with Danny, “there is no doubt you are my son. None”.

“And I’m supposed to take your word on that?”. Like sure, Danny didn’t exactly look like his maybe parents, Jazz definitely looked like mom, but how the hell would two ghosts have a human child???? His ghost form doesn’t even look like theirs either! Okay fine Clocky has bits of white hair hidden in their cloak but that’s all Danny’s picking up on.

Pariah shakes his head, “that would be quite foolish of you. Can you not tell?”.

Pariah glances down at ClockWork, who moves to float up to them as well, “he is young still, Sæti. His core’s not matured fully”.

For whatever reason both the ghosts look happy over that. Danny just has yet another question, “and what’s a core? You guys suck at answering questions”.

“As is often the case with my ClockWork”. The clock ghost just nods acceptingly. Pariah continuing, “a core is our source of might, the whole of our existence. And as they have explained in their way to me”, eyeing Danny, “The Observants, pathetic creatures, attacked ClockWork and you when you were a mere lille venn (little darling)”.

ClockWork interjecting, “they meant to harm us both, to destroy a god-prince and god in their folly for power. The young are so much weaker after all”.

Danny is putting the ‘prince’ thing and the ‘god’ thing on a shelf for now. The nice neat little shelf where ‘dealing with being dead’ also sat, right next to ‘mom and dad kinda wanna dissect me’.

Pariah scowls but looks at ClockWork, “Where are the Observants? Surely they know of him by now?”.

“You truly believe that any child of mine would by watchable by their eyes? Restricted and weakened as they now are?”.

Danny sighs to himself, “and the Observants are?”. Have these guys answered even one of his questions? Like actually answered? Besides the core thing, which sounded kinda like a heart and brain.

ClockWork actually answers him this time, it’s a miracle, “all seers, watches of the universe. Fools who believe all they see is all there is to be seen”.

“Gods. Gotcha”. Fuck Danny so much. When did he go from just dealing with fame hungry pop idols to literal fucking gods?

“Almost”, Clocky holds up a toddler-looking finger, “but not quiet. And they’ve fallen in might since. I merely allow them to continue to believe they have any say over me”.

Pariah moves closer and looms over Danny some, Danny is taking a huge fucking gamble by staying put but Danny has definitely learned the art of ‘never let them see you sweat’ even if he actually still kinda sucked at it. But… they were being nice enough he supposed. So when Pariah holds out his massive hand -not unlike Jack’s/dad’s- and says, “a child still or not, you should still be able to tell with physical contact”, with ClockWork following suit. Danny doesn’t refuse.

It’s like being struck by lightning that was oddly fluffy, like fuzzy yarn winding around his insides and chest, like being swaddled by hands the size of his entire body, like being wrapped in feathers while being fed liquid gold. It’s a lot all at once and there’s a part of his brain that just dings with right and belong and home and mine. He wants to be touched by them, held, to slip into sweet dreams surrounded by them. It felt brutally safe in a way that Jack and Maddie never did. Felt a part of him. Danny believes them in an instant and almost wants to cry. A comfort and protection he’d never known rushing all over and around him.

He slips, falls really, off the podium immediately, floating and pulled closer by their hands that felt oh so right. He absolutely passes out from all the stress and exhaustion and being overwhelmed, passes out right in both of their arms. Pariah’s size allowing him to cradle both him and ClockWork.

--

“He’s been through a lot, hasn’t he. amoung the living no less”.

“Indeed. But he is better and stronger for it. And neither of us will be changing that”.

“I want my son home, ClockWork”, pariah sighs, “thought I suppose one shouldn’t abandon their subjects”.

“The Fenton’s have long assured he’ll come around often, worry not Sæti“.

Chap. 2: The Dopamine That Was Robbed Of Me

Danny wakes up in, of all places, the ghost kings lap; the Clock ghost looking to be polishing their staff while siting on Pariah’s shoulder, ghostly tail wrapped lazily around one of Danny’s hands. Should Danny be embarrassed or not? He felt like… well like a little kid.

The Clock ghost -what the Hell is Danny going to call either one of them?- grins faintly down at him and winks for some reason. Pariah noticing and looking away from the stone tablet he was apparently reading off of to look down at Danny as well, “I see you’re awake”.

Danny just nods slowly, he still felt like there was soft yarn winding through him and pillow stuffing in his mouth or like he’d had a ton of super sweet sugar. Cranning his head to look around, they're raised up on some platform, there’s carpeting leading from where they are to a door that isn’t beaten up, the FrightKnight is still there standing guard and is practically bleeding awe; they are totally sitting, or Pariah is sitting, on a throne, aren’t they? Glancing around a little more, the place looks way more spruced up than before, there’s tapestries on the walls, stained glass, a potted plant or two; weird. Looking back up at Pariah, who’s still watching him, “what happened?”.

Pariah hums, “as it stands I have no further reason to reign my fury and iron fist down on this realm’s, or another’s, denizens, as such there’s much I am in need of catching up on”.

Did Danny just stop a war? Apparently. By finding out HE WAS FUCKING ADOPTED AND THE CHILD OF GHOSTS! Yet he just… doesn’t really feel super freaked out about it. He’s almost comfy with it. Is this the way people normally feel with their parents? Comforted? Secure? Open? Supported? It’s… a bit strange for him, good but strange. His parents, or not parents he guesses, were the last people he ever felt that way around. Even before the whole ‘we want to dissect half of you’ bullshittery. so Danny blinks instead of freaks out, “what… kinda stuff?”. Clocky- ClockPops? looks pleased with that response.

Pariah glances back to the stone, that thing must weigh a ton, humming, “seems two harpy clans are at war over wine again”. Danny glances away, oops. “A prison warden for the barren lands wants to make ‘force feeding someone confetti on their wedding day’ illegal”. Danny makes a face, oops again. “There’s a rampaging dragon on the lose”. Okay that one might not be Danny’s fault, maybe. “Multiple complaints from Blackbeard about a child fake pirate stealing his ship”. That ship was Blackbeard’s ship? Crap Danny totally confiscated that. “And the denizens of the Far Frozen wish to have an audience ‘as the prophecy foretold’”. Okay Danny knows nothing about that last one.

Danny chuckles awkwardly, “uh. If it’s anything getting the harpies to compete to get me wine was supposed to be a joke, Walker hates my guts, I’ve only beaten up one dragon but he does also hate my guts, and I didn’t know that ship actually belonged to anyone. The yeti thing ain’t my fault though”.

ClockWork smirks meanly at him, leaning down and patting Danny’s head, “actually it is”.

Fuck. Danny’s making a terrible impression here.

Pariah raises an eyebrow, “you stole Blackbeard ship while dressed up as a pirate?”.

Danny sputters, oh that would be so embarrassing, “what no! This toddler did that! I just stole it from the toddler”.

ClockWork holds up a finger, “meaning instead of stealing from a strong adult, you stole from a weak child, how very noble of you”.

“Hey! He abducted all the adults in town, he had it coming!”. Danny swats at ClockWork’s hand without any harm meant behind it, doing that makes Danny notice that something’s… changed. His gloves are black! And clawed??? Holding his hand in front of his face, “huh?”. Pariah leaning back a bit father to allow for Danny to jerk up into a sitting position to look down/over himself.

His suits changed! Like completely! His gloves, now black, are actually gloves now, like, not just part of a jumpsuit anymore, the ends of them going up to his elbows and coming off in a point. His sleeves are white now but his shoulders and chest are still black but it looks more like armour, the white of the jumpsuit showing on the sides of his torso and looking to going underneath the black almost v-shaped armour; he’s gonna bet the black ‘armour’ goes down his back too. His belt and black pants look the same at least, his boots are still white too but like his gloves they aren’t actually attached to the suit anymore and come off and over his knees in points.

He has a cape!

A cape!

Oh Tuck is gonna mock him relentlessly. So is Vlad.

It’s simple at least, black on the inside and white on the outside, completely smooth at the bottom. It seems like it’s attached or part of? his white neck part.

His DP symbol’s still there. Nice. He actually likes that thing, regardless of it being a pain to get. His chest was definitely a bit wider, all of him seemed just a bit more… muscley. Like, no one’s going to be doing confused double takes, but it definitely looks like he’s actually been fighting ghosts in hand to hand combat for months.

Cool.

He’d been kinda wondering about the fact that he’d gained literally zero muscle. But still, what? Looking up at the two ghosts and quirking an eyebrow, there’s no way they don’t know what’s happened with him.

ClockWork seats themselves down on the thrones arm rest, Pariah putting down the stone tablet. ClockWork nodding, “you were meant to be hidden, your appearance couldn’t be exactly as it was supposed to be”, grinning, “at least not until you returned to us, stronger”. Danny points at his face, he couldn’t exactly look at that without pulling some body horror shit. Pariah grinning, “you already had my face, more slender I suppose, but it is more defined now. I suspect you’ll start seeing facial hair in a year or two-”.

Oh Danny is totally here for that! He kinda thought he have to give up on that since no one on… on well Jack’s or maddie’s side had good facial hair. But DarkDaddy had a solid goatee and Clockpops had a full beard sometimes!

“-you have ClockWork’s skin, paler, but the same blue-”.

Something else for Vlad to bug him about. Cool. At least ClockWork looks smug.

“-your fangs are less pronounced than my own but you are young still-”.

Man all those vampire jokes were really coming back to bite Danny in the ass; licking his tongue over his teeth, yup fangs.

“-your eyes remain the same green, though you have red pupils now. The pointed ears are all your own though, as is the fire hair”.

Danny moving a hand up to grab his ear tips, well at least they weren’t any longer, and yeah his hair definitely felt like it was moving on its own way more than normal. Okay, so his face changed, like, a lot; people were so going to comment on that. Ugh. The pr was gonna suck.

ClockWork leaning over, “make no mistake, this is how you were always meant to look, you will get used to it”.

Danny chuckles at that, “I mean I’m pretty good at being adaptable”, at least this voice sounds the same, which would obviously change as he got older… hopefully, it would suck to sound like a fourteen-year-old forever. Looking from ClockWork to Pariah and back, “but… since my uh, you guys, are ghosts I’m gonna guess I’m not actually human at all? Am I?”. Like, that would make zero fucking sense and Danny has zero clue how he feels about that. Another thing for the mental shelf!

Pariah damn near cackles, “I am the god of death, child, I am fully capable of defiling life all I please! If I desire a mortal flesh baring child, I’ll have it! My desires are just reality to be”. ClockWork nodding in kind, “reality is just a mass of threads to be toyed with or blown away. Impossibility doesn’t mean anything to me”.

“That really doesn’t answer my question”. Was it always going to be this way with them? It was kinda funny though, Danny loved confusing people himself.

ClockWork rests their chin in a palm, tilting sideways, tail swishing though still holding onto Danny, “does it truly matter?”, waving their other hand, “You’re closer to a full ghost who possesses the ability to change into a truly living human body. Fully alive and fully dead, far more impossible than merely half and half”, humming, “though your accident made the two sides of the coin intermingle more than was meant at the time”.

So he's even more not dead and even more not alive, cool. That’s going on the shelf, but he’ll absolutely laugh about that later. Zone Danny can’t help but laugh now, “fucking nice”. Earning himself two fond grins. He kinda wants to go find a mirror but he’s also frankly comfy and not interested in leaving either of his parents right now… there was probably some kinda reason for that knowing his luck.

Pariah raising an eyebrow at ClockWork, “accident?”. Making the smaller ghost sigh, “the Fenton’s like to play god with the connections between life and death”.

Wait this totally means the portal didn’t kill him! He was already fucking dead! He’s definitely going to be explaining that to Sam, since she blamed herself a lot about it. Groaning a little, “man, Sam’s gonna be so relieved when she finds out she didn’t accidentally half kill me. wow”. No wonder all the other ghosts always found it weird that he didn’t actually care about them going through the thing that ‘killed him’, because if it had killed him he should have been bothered.

Pariah curls in a little to have his face closer to Danny’s, “you intend to return to that mortal town?”.

Danny blinks at his… should he use dad or father? Pops is definitely going towards ClockWork, ‘cause Clockpops flowed too well. Father seemed… too formal for Danny to put up with, like that’s what Vlad would want Danny to call him. Ew. Dad it is for sure. “Well I mean yeah? My friends, my fraid, are there? And it’s my town, I’m not gonna stop protecting it just cause my parents are totally different people than I thought they were and from a different realm”. He absolutely will not just abandon Amity, humans, his friends and family, Val. Zone, even Dash and his jerk squad. Mr. Lancer and that one barista that didn’t give him shit over his unhealthy orders. Though… he’s not sure how he’s gonna be with Jack and Maddie. Like… they did raise him, sorta, sure Jazz did most of it but still.

Pariah shrugs, “that town can very well stay in this realm-”.

Danny points at him, “absolutely not. That screams stupid. Wait. How long has it been? How long was I out!”. Oh zone, everyone must be freaking out! Even the ghosts that came to aid him are probably freaking!

ClockWork ruffles his hair, “relax, I convinced your dad to send the town back to its own realm long before you awoke, and, though I know they’ll still worry, sent word you were fine to your fraid”.

“Oh thank fuck “, Danny flops backwards, head dangling down over DarkDaddy’s knees, that nickname was too funny not to use. Danny blinking at the FrightKnight, the guy is beaming but clearly trying to keep a straight face. Danny puffs out his cheeks, “oh you’re just loving this aren’t you, you old ass knight”. The FrightKnight tries to control his face more.

Danny can hear ClockWork leaning towards Pariah and explaining a little, “they’ve fought before. He’s taken his sword multiple times”.

Pariah laughing, addressing his head dread knight, “did he really?!?”.

The FrightKnight looks like he’s debating if it’s okay for him to approach, before just deciding to, “he’s young but capable”. Danny has a distinct feeling that Pariah became a bit of an ass, clearly, during his whole ‘tyrading because my son’s gone’ thing.

Pariah laughs again, grabbing Danny’s cape to yank him up into the air before setting him down to sit on Pariah’s knee, Danny eyeing the large ghost. “As a prince of the dead should be!”. ClockWork holding up a finger, “and a young god”; Pariah nodding.

The FrightKnight nods himself, “he could use further sword training of course, I’d be more than happy to-”.

Pariah cuts him off harshly, “do not overstep your place”. Making the knight wilt and bow, “my apologies, your highness”. But Danny pouts, tilting his head back to glare at Pariah, “hey be nice, if you do that to every ghost that pesters me or tries to teach me things you’re going to be doing that for years. Just look at Vlad? That guy has issues and eighty-two of them are me snubbing all his apprenticeship attempts”.

Pariah growls, “that one, the one who stole from me”, scowling, “at least I found you out of his foolishness”, eyeing the FrightKnight, “stand up, tell me, what is that one up to now?”.

Now Danny would actually like to know that as well honestly. Vlad always had a million plans and no way he’d take this shit well.

“After returning to Amity and the mortal realm alongside it, he agreed to ‘watch over’ Valerie Gray and… your son, while the Fenton’s helped with clean up. Your son’s fraid snuck in, weakened him with an invention of his own making, and hog tied him”.

Danny snorts, go them, “nice going guys, wreck his shit”. The FrightKnight actually nods respectfully at Danny, “Vladimir Masters Plasmius had planned to let you wear his majesty out enough for him to take the crown and make me his knight”, huffing, “as if such a thing was possible”.

Pariah laughs loudly, ClockWork simply shaking their head in amusement. That plan sounded exactly like the kind of underhanded, make someone else do the work for me, shit that Vlad would pull. But that meant that Vlad legit thought Danny could win? Just how powerful did Vlad think Danny was??? Or was he just underestimating Pariah that much? Well, it was probably the second option, since Vlad was awful for underestimating people.

Pariah looking down at Danny, “that one is one of yours, punish him how ever you like. As it seems your fraid has already done themselves”.

“So I should blow is house up again, is what you’re saying”. Danny has a feeling Sam and Tuck just earned some positive points with his dad. Nice.

ClockWork holding up a finger and leaning at Danny, “you may want to at least call Ms. Manson though”.

Danny groans, “oh Zone, is she trying to force fed him nightshade again”.

“Indeed”.

“Damn it, Sam”. Danny digging into his impossible pockets, that he thankfully still had, pulls out the little cell Tuck modified to shit so that it would actually work across dimensions… it usually worked anyways.

“DANNY!”.

Yeah okay he saw the shouting coming, still loud though. “Ghost ears guys, I am fine. But put down the fucking nightshade, Sam. I have, like, twenty boxes of fruit loops in the closet, just pelt him with those”.

Sam: “How do you even know! Fine”.

Tuck: “Danny dude are you okay? Not any deader?”.

Danny shrugs to himself, “one, because I know you, Sam. Two because god told me, that is not actually a joke. And yes, Tuck, I’m okay just..”, glancing up at Pariah’s face, ClockWork’s as well as they’ve settled back on the larger ghosts shoulder. “Just got some shit to figure out, turns out I have dead family? Yeah, I’ll explain later”.

Sam: “and what have you been doing while we’ve been worried?!? Yeah we got an ominous letter saying you were fine but like Zone we’d believe that”.

Tuck: “what she said. Does god hate your guts too?”.

Sam: “have you met him? Of course god does”.

“Sam, I’m hurt. I’m not that annoying, unless you ask Vlad but he deserves it. Especially because he is, yes, one hundred percent responsible for this shit, tell him he’s a dumbass, and the next time he thinks pissing off death god is a good idea he should drink himself unconscious first”.

Tuck: “ha!”

Danny nods to himself, “yeah so, no clue when I’ll be back, I’ll try to be quick-ish, promise, okay? And you better put that nightshade back, again, Sam”.

Sam: “damn”… “you sure you’re good? Danny?”.

Tuck: “I’ll eat everything you own if you’re not, man”.

Sam: “did you even win? How?”.

Oh man, what should Danny even say to that? Well he could just fuck with them? Yeah okay they’ll try to kick his ass later but it’ll be worth it. “Yeah didn’t even really fight actually, turns we’re related. Bye”. And promptly hangs up to the sound of shouting. ClockWork smacks him on the head with their staff, “that was mean, son”. Danny only pouts in response.

Pariah waving ClockWork off, “oh let him have his fun”; ClockWork whacks him one too. Leaving dad and son rubbing their heads.

…

The FrightKnight speaks back up against after a bit, “may I inquire about the young prince’s name? To inform the legion and the people?”.

And now Danny’s confused again, did Frighty really seriously forget his name? “Really, Frighty?”.

ClockWork laughs to themselves while Pariah quirks an eyebrow, a judgy one, at Danny. Making the boy squirm a little, “I like nicknaming people, usually to their annoyance”, rubbing his neck and asking, “what does he mean though? My name isn’t exactly unknown”. He literally shouted it as he thought he was flying to his death death for fucks sake!

ClockWork hums, “he means that the name you have is not one we, your parents, have given you”.

“Well I mean, no one decent actually calls me what they named me…”. He still hated being called Daniel, maybe that was because his actual parents didn’t name him that? Danny and Phantom were definitely his names though, even if Danny was technically more of a nickname.

Pariah tilts his head, “something similar perhaps, I refuse to not name my own son”. ClockWork nodding agreeingly, “Dane, Dean, Dayne, Dagny, Denny, Danhy…”.

Danny? gets positively bombarded by D names.

…

It takes a while but they finally, finally, agree on ‘Danhy’ which sounds nearly identically to ‘Danny’ in his opinion, but whatever, at least they’re happy. Danny is just laying on his stomach, on the ground now, while the two ghosts had floated off arguing about the naming thing, were parents normally this heated about baby naming? Ugh. He’s decided that if he ever has a kid he’s called them either Elle or Dan, gender pending. Did that spell out danelle? Yup. Was that maybe a little egotistical? Also yes. Does he care? No. He’s fourteen for fucks sake! He’s not having kids now! (The future would prove that was a lie, fuck you Vlad). At least it was agreed that Phantom was absolutely his name, especially since chosen names were more important than given ones with ghosts, hence why so many ghosts called him Phantom exclusively.

At least the FrightKnight looks like he’s suffering too, Danny pushing himself up off the floor and dusting off his knees. The pointy boots were still surprising to see. The FrightKnight looking him over, huh Danny-Danhy thinks he might have grown a little too. “So it’ll be Phantom Danhy then, am I correct”. Him and Frighty looking to Pariah and ClockWork, both nodding.

Pariah crossing his arms and looking down at them, “so it will be, I’ll smite any who call you that other name”, and scowls. ClockWork actually rolls their eyes.

Danny holding up a finger, “Vlad gets a pass, because that’s a thing with us. I call him Vladdie or V man insultingly, he calls me Daniel insultingly. I call him a fruitloop, he calls me little badger. I call him vampire ass, he calls me hero wannabe. It’s a whole thing”, frowning, “and no smiting Lancer, he’s my favourite teacher”.

Pariah actually sighs, the FrightKnight seems spooked by this, “very well. They are your subjects, I suppose”. ClockWork smiles fondly at the large ghost.

ClockWork floats down and around Danhy, gesturing around, “you should at least familiarize yourself with your castle, no? For it is yours as much as your dad’s, unlike my Clocktower Citadel”. Pariah nods, “indeed, you are irreplaceable as the Guardian of Time”, looking very specifically at Danhy with meaning, “while I can be succeeded”.

Danhy is distinctly reminded of that sword stuck in that podium, rubbing his neck, “yeah okay, I’m not gonna try to stab you anymore”.

“Good”.

Danny, and ClockWork, float up to be more on level with Pariah as the ghost begins what’s effectively a tour.

…

To say there’s a lot of rooms would be an understatement, and it looked like some of the place was rebuilding itself to its former glory? Neat. Pariah seemed annoyed that that even needed to be happening at all, fair, it was his castle that got its ass destroyed. Danhy’d be petty annoyed if someone beat the shit out of his town to this degree too. There’s a tapestry room, treasury, maybe a meeting room, servant rooms, dressing rooms, ceremonial rooms, banquet hall, Pariah’s bed room, ClockWork’s bedroom, a… couples room (little weird to see that), and… his bedroom.

His bedroom.

As in a room, in this giant fuck off castle, that was for him.

It was still so weird, but also felt… really right. This place already seemed more like home that FentonWork’s, especially because it didn’t suddenly attack him at all. Sure sometimes the ceilings felt too tall or the rooms too big but that also meant more room to fly around in. ClockWork even told him a space observatory was already forming! How cool was that!?

His room though? It changed the second he stepped foot in it. Went from looking like it was definitely intended for a toddler to… well to his.

Glowing stars patterned the roof, walls painted in ecto green galaxies, a fluffy night sky dark carpet the kind that Jack and Maddie always said was too difficult to clean ectoplasm out of so why bother, the bed is HUGE and covered in soft thick comforter after comforter perfect for a cuddle pile, there’s random ass weapons and medikits and a Fenton Thermos with a DP on it of all things, the closets full of baggy clothes and nasa print and pun shirts, there’s an entire box of spare shoes since he destroyed his so often, a milkshake machine! Espresso too!, a little laptop that Tuck can definitely mess with to get it to work cross realm, there’s a little dog bed for Cujo even. It’s awesome really.

Danhy turning his head to tell them as such, “this is so freaking cool!”. That earns him some hair ruffles, Pariah looks a little judgy but whatever. It was probably because Danhy wasn’t, like, a tough bad boy, or whatever, like him. Besides, Danny can absolutely see a mini bomb or two, he got menace privileges some times okay? And bombs were really easy to make.

… maybe Danhy can spend at least one night here before heading back. And seeing the grins on Pariah and ClockWork when he tells them as much kinda makes it worth it all the more.

Yeah, this place was definitely a home of sorts. He was totally gonna have to drag Sam and Tuck over, and give very thorough introductions and convince them that no the giant scarred horned Viking ghost was not tricking him and would not kill them or try to.

Waking up in the morning is fucking blissful because his new bed is fucking heavenly on sore muscles and bruised bone. He calls Sam and Tuck immediately to let them know he’s up and awake before going about getting up. He’s human again, and has a mirror…

He looks…

Not that different actually. His jaw is a bit sharper, hair’s a bit more fluffy and scruffy, he has a tiny amount of stubble!, his eyes have a sharpness to them that wasn’t there before he thinks and they’ve got that black ‘evil eyeliner’ shit that so many ghosts had, his canines are a little longer but not outright fangs ditto for his finger nails, he is definitely more physically filled out, still really pale… Other than that he looked exactly the same, and with throwing on some of the clothing he looks even more the way he always has.

It’s kinda weird… not looking much different for how much has just inherently changed. But…

Looking back and shifting forms.

Oh yeah, different big time. PR nightmare for sure. The armour does one hundred percent go down his back and into his belt just like the front. Pale blue skin? Check. Pointed ears and fangs? Check. Lazily flaming white hair? Check. Red pupils in green eyes with that evil eyeliner? Check. Man he’s gotta stop calling it evil eyeliner now. Damn. Still got the little, now white, stubble though! Awesome!

Running a hand through the flames, which moves like it is actually hair, weird, “alright. Okay. I looks badass at least. I definitely can’t let Sam and Tuck see this form first though or they will have heart attacks thinking I’m fully dead or something”, cringing, “which, well, I am. But also am not”. Well they’ve been cool with his half dead shit, full dead and full alive was barely different.

Shaking his head and changing back human to pop out, nearly smashing into The FrightKnight, “Zone fuck! Dude what the Hell?”.

“I was instructed to wait here for you to wake, my prince”.

“Do you want me to stab you? I will stab you?”.

The FrightKnight shakes his head and leads Danhy to a feasting hall. ClockWork was off in a corner looking at mirror screen things that had seemed to form out of nowhere. Pariah was still looking through stone tablets, oh fuck that guy probably has centuries of shit to go through. Please say Danhy won’t have to help with that, please. ClockWork making him jump, “I wouldn’t fret, it’s a prince’s job to fool around and make a mess, until it’s their time to deal with all the fools and messes”.

Danhy putting a hand to his chest, “way to give me a heart attack, pops, damn”.

Pariah huffs from his chair, “you can not get heart attacks, Danhy, you are immune to such mortal weakness”, then eyeing ClockWork, “ancient one, lonely one, come rest your head, our son is up is he not”. ClockWork does send away the screen things at least.

Danhy tilting his head as ClockWork gives him some cereal, fucking booberries nice, “what are the screen things?”.

“Time and all that’s contained within it”.

“That explains nothing, thanks”. Zone damn it. Danhy’s decided he definitely likes this cheeky bastard. Then having to tilt his head back, spoon in his mouth, at Pariah just suddenly being behind him looming over him; Danhy blinks and smirks up cheekily.

“I believe I know where you got most of your personality”.

Danhy will take the compliment. Danhy then proceeds to swallow before spitting a spoon out at Pariah Dark god king of death, overlord and warlord of all of the Infinite Realm itself. ClockWork turns away barely containing laughter.

“Since it appears you’re rested, we will spar again”.

Oh it seems Danhy has made a mistake. A fatal error.

…

Danhy did, in fact, make a mistake. As he gets bodily tossed into a wall. He guesses it makes sense his dad, a ghost king, would want to see what his missing son is made of. Especially with Danhy having been living/existing surrounded by squishy humans and fighting more average strength ghosts. You know, instead of fucking gods and entire armies; which yes, he was somewhat expected to somewhat deal with now.

Also though, Danhy was stronger than he was before. He’s pretty sure ClockWork did more than just restrict his appearance. ‘Cause when he blasts his dad it actually pierces the shield Pariah makes; at least the ghost looks pleased.

Danhy still gets bashed with a mace though. He manages to kick him into a wall back at least, not that that seemed to do any actual damage.

Pops meanwhile was just reversing time around things to fix damages. Danhy pouting at them when he breaks another chair trying to avoid a sword, ClockWork only smirks at him; jerk. Danhy throws the sword back, also glaring at Pariah just mentally catching with telekinesis.

Danhy thinks he has telekinesis but ain’t about to count on that.

“You are still young”.

“I’ve noticed”. Danhy absolutely takes the very next cheap shot he can, smacking Pariah with a broken pillar before ClockWork gets to fixing it. he also successfully avoids multiple thrown weapons.

Pariah grinning at him, “you’re battle harden enough, not as far as you would have been under me but it will do”. Danhy’s not sure if that’s a compliment. “You don’t hesitate to use your environment to your advantage or your size in comparison to mine”.

Danhy’s up on the ceiling in a Spider-Man pose sticking out his tongue, at least now he knew this wasn’t ’fuck imma die’ kinda fight. “I fight a lot of different ghosts, of shape, size, and location. I might not do wars or gods or whatever but I still have a combat skill set”.

ClockWork sticking up a finger, fixing a chair, “and Maddie did teach you multiple mortal fighting techniques”. Making Danhy rub his neck, dodging an axe without having to look at it, “yeah, one of the few things she actually would praise me for”. The Fenton’s didn’t care about space or art so those skills didn’t matter to them; and he didn’t have good grades and didn’t agree with them about ghosts, so the fighting techniques was all he did good in their eyes. They… still did love him though, which was weird to think about now. Should he tell them? It would be kinda mean not to, but it was also kinda mean to want to dissect sentient beings.

Danhy flipping and twisting inhumanly around Pariah’s fist, smacking the guys wrist with his ghostly tail, Pariah shaking it off as he flies backwards, grinning impressed, “it takes a great deal of force and power to deal damage with one’s tail”.

“It does?”, danhy did it all the time!

Pariah nods, “I believe this is enough”, letting Danhy relax, “I believed you want to return to that town of yours, correct?”; he’s clearly still none too happy about that but Danhy nods anyways.

Danny rubbing his neck as he lowers himself enough to be on eye level with his dad, “though, like, obviously I’m coming back often, duh. But, like, I definitely want to finish human school and hang out in my town, you know? And being in Amity is kinda needed to protect it and shit”.

ClockWork smirking gets Danhy’s attention, “I think you’ll find that to not be the case now. You are my son after all, I hardly need to be somewhere to see or sense what is occurring there”. Danhy absolutely gasping, if Clocky was implying he could sense if a ghost was starting shit regardless of where Danhy was that would be awesome! Especially since FentonWorks wasn’t actually a super safe place to stay ever really. Pariah crossing his arms, “I could merely decree the citizens stay out-”.

Danhy butting in immediately, “hey no bad, I’m a big believer in personal freedom. Plus I’d be sad if Boxy ever got over his weird masochistic desire to fight me”. ClockWork smirking meanly, “I’ll make sure to remind you of that when you complain about him fighting you twenty plus times in a day”.

“Hey, be nice to me, I’m baby”, glancing around a little, “but since you’re the one that put me with the Fenton’s, do they know? Should I tell them?”.

Pariah apparently has opinions on that, “I have no interest in them believing nor claiming themselves my son’s makers”. Danhy can’t really blame the guy for that, he just found his kid again! Of course he wouldn’t want someone else calling his son theirs.

ClockWork looks unimpressed at Pariah, “he can hardly be open with his relation to us, as a human or ghost, with the humans”, then tilting their head and humming. Pariah just waits so Danhy’s going to take a wild guess and say they ‘saw’ something. ClockWork’s grin is nearly ear splitting, “or he could be, as a human at least”. Danhy knows that smile is absolutely meant to encourage him to go along with this, probably because it will cause chaos; Clocky seems to like chaos.

Pariah smiles back, “I care not if the truth torments anyone, if it’s well for him then he should”, and looks at danhy.

Okay so… then Danhy should? Obviously he’s telling Sam and Tuck, he basically already did. But this was free range to just tell fucking everyone. Just ‘oh yeah, freaky Fenton? Not actually a Fenton! Actually the child of a god and death king!’ which yeah, chaos. Something tells him Dash will still try to give him swirlies and shit. But… this would give him a good excuse for any power usage or other general weirdness. Like if he, say, looks more ghostly even while human in the future. Plus will Jack/kinda dad actually be able to keep this to himself if Danhy tells him? Danhy will tell Vlad for sure, that guy won’t tell anyone. Shrugging, “eh fuck it, why not”, plus he legit feels like Maddie or Jack calling him son now is going to actually bother him. More of a ‘rubs him the wrong way’ rather than making him wanna punch them like with Vlad.

He gets a pair of matching grins, one mischievous and one vaguely cruel; Danhy giving back a cruel mischievous smile.

ClockWork holds up a finger, “as for how you wound up with the Fenton’s, since this will be relevant, young Jasmine found you in a haunted forest. The Fenton’s believed you to be spirited away by ghosts and insisted on keeping you. ‘For your safety’”.

Danhy snorts, “well I guess I was spirited away in a sense”. Pariah glares at ClockWork over that, clearly still none too pleased.

Danhy eyes the FrightKnight, “why are you following me, Frighty?”.

Pariah crosses his arms, leaning down at Danhy, “you are his prince, you are to be protected at the least for your first return trip. It is the least of his duties”. What a nice way to say Frighty had to do this or else.

Danhy groaning and sagging dramatically, “but whyyyyyy?”. ClockWork scolding him, “let your dad pamper you some, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the out come”. That feels more like an ominous warning instead of comfort.

Danhy squinting, “suddenly I don’t trust you”. The FrightKnight actually picks him up and carries him over his shoulder to fly away from the castle, “you are going to be the end of me”.

“Awww, come on now, why would I end my new pet?”.

“I am hardly a pet”.

“I think I could convince dad to decree otherwise”.

“I humbly request that you do no such thing, your highness”.

“Beg me more, peasant”.

The FrightKnighr doesn’t dignify that with a response. But hey, Danhy is obviously not going to actually get Frighty’s title change to ‘pet’, Danhy wasn’t nearly that much of a dick.

…

Danhy shoves himself off of The FrightKnight’s shoulder when they get to the portal, Danhy floating and human dusting himself off, “you are not shoulder carrying me in, gosh”.

“That would be rather undignified, yes”.

“Fuck you”.

Danhy sticks his fingers in the door crack and just yanks the thing open, so long as it’s not locked that’ll work; especially with his newer strength. It is not locked, nice. Leaving Danhy nodding at the swirling portal, shouting, “BARREL ROLL!”, and summersaulting in; The FrightKnight sighing after him.

---

Pariah watching on one of ClockWork’s time screens, ClockWork sitting on his shoulder, “that boy is appropriately a menace. I almost pity my knight”.

“Oh it gets worse, one day he’ll terrorize Nocturne within their own domain within their domain. Best Votex with his own might. He’ll mount an Observant like taxidermy. A ViralHelm has even taken a liking to him”.

Pariah almost regrets having a child, he absolutely does not though. That boy was precious, precious and merciless. When he first fought the boy, the boy truly meant to do away with him; as unready as he was to do so.

ClockWork seeing something that’s not on the screen, “he could be the best or the worst thing this realm has ever seen, I’m afraid. He has suffered and he will suffer more; there is nothing for it but the worst out come is no longer possible”.

“… Thank you”.

“Of course, and may the Observants fall”.

“They will, no matter what, they will; for they are the ones who have done wrong, not I, and I have no interest in providing second chances”.

Chap.3: Life’s So Far Complicated

Jazz jumps up from the chair she’d practically slept in, blanket falling to the ground, “Danny!”.

Danhy blinks at her, he didn’t actually expect anyone to be here, fuck. Why does he do this to himself? He should have checked first! “Jazz?”, eyeing the blanket on the ground, “did you sleep in the lab?”. Even Danhy had never done that! The FrightKnight walks in through the portal, all tall armoured and threatening; making Jazz tense and try to move for a weapon. Danhy holding up his hands, “hey woah it’s fine, he’s cool now. So why were you sleeping down here?”.

She blinks at him, “mom and dad are out and Sam and Tuck are watching Vlad so I told them I’d wait for your return”.

Danhy blinks, “my… return?”. Okay now he’s confused. He’d expect that from Sam or Tuck but, like, Jazz shouldn’t know he was in the gz.

“I know Danny, okay”, she glances around awkwardly, smiling a little though, “I’ve known for a while, I told Sam and Tucker because they tried to go looking for you”.

Danhy makes aggressive disbelieving hand gestures at her, screwing his face up a bunch, “the fuck, how?”.

“You should check doorways better when you transform in alleyways, Danny”, her smile is soft at least, “I’m glad I know though, even if you keep worrying me. Which please stop”.

Danhy pouts, “okay fine I guess that’s on me”, well at least it was Jazz who saw, not like a G.I.W. agent or something.

The FrightKnight shakes his head, arms crossed, “you are far too relaxed and inattentive, your highness”. Danhy huffing and sticking his arms out to the side, “dude! You gotta let me explain shit before you start using royal titles holy shit!”. The ghost is absolutely not apologetic.

Jazz looks deeply concerned, “Danny… did you dethrone a king?”. Which fine, that’s exactly what he had technically gone to do.

Danhy facepalms, “okay I know why that would make sense and that would be less weird, but no”. Fucking FrightKnight and his stupid mouth. Dropping his hand from his face and rubbing his neck, “so, I now know I’m adopted and how?”. Jazz practically collapsing back into the chair, wheezing. Danhy walking after her, “and like, no hard feelings about not telling me or anything, ‘cause that woulda probably bothered me and been yet another thing on my mind all the time, so you’re good, and I also know that you pretty much brought me into the family? Also that theory about me being ‘spirited away by ghosts’ is actually correct, surprise?”.

Jazz bends over and wheezes, “oh I hate that, please don’t tell them that part”, her sitting back up, “if you’re going to bring this up to them at all, you don’t have to. But… how did you find out? Is that why you were gone so long? Are they… ghosts? Were they trying to protect you from the afterlife since they couldn’t stay with you?”.

“Fuck you for being freakishly close to the truth. You are too smart for your own good, Zone damn”.

She beams at him, “I’ll take the compliment, little brother”, pointing at him firmly, “you’re still my brother no matter what”.

Danhy putting up his hands, “yeah yeah, of course, Jazz. Being related doesn’t mean shit, I mean you basically raised me”. She smiles sadly at that while Danhy moves to sit on a desk, “the only part you’re missing or got wrong I guess, is, uh, apparently I was never really human. Born a ghost, just apparently my, you know, parents are extra and decided to defy reality and defile life and death, their words, and have me as also a fully living human. Or ghost able to be human”.

She buries her head in her hands, whining, “Danny”.

“Yeah I know, I’m a handful. You know the guy who just abducted the town? Yeah”.

She doesn’t move for a beat, looking up at him with almost disgust, “the giant horned Viking? That threatened to kill everyone? The one Vlad implied is the king of all ghosts? That one?”, scrunching her face up and glaring at the FrightKnight, “that’s why you called him ‘your highness’! God, Danny”.

“My other parent is, in fact, a god, yes”. She throws the blanket at his stupid smirk. Fair enough. Danhy shoving the blanket back to the floor, “to be fair, he was doing that because he lost his shit over his kid suddenly going missing as an infant”, rolling his wrist, “my other parent just didn’t tell him they took me to the living realm to protect me from some other god assholes”. Jazz looks like she wants to cry and hit him.

Danhy swings his legs a bit, “so”.

“Oh my Zone your life is a nightmare, Danny”

“I think ectoplasmic soap opera is more accurate”.

“Go see your friends before they kill Vlad, you jerk”.

“They haven’t already?”.

She throws the blanket at him again, he does move to head upstairs while finger gunning at her though; leaving behind a groaning sister. It was… kinda nice that she knew about him actually; and she’s clearly been able to sit with it for a while so he shouldn’t fret about it too much.

…

Danhy sticks his head into his room, Sam’s and Tuck’s backs are to him, Vlad’s unconscious, Val’s asleep. Cool. Okay. Danhy pulling his head back and pointing at the FrightKnight, “you. Stay put”. The ghost rolls his eyes and huffs, but does as he’s told. Danhy pushing his way in fully.

“DANNY!”.

Danhy can’t help but grin at the fond overly worried way the shout at him. Both tackling him in a hug… it’s a lot easier to stay standing than it used to be.

Tuck pulls back and squints at him, holding his shoulders, “you are Danny, right? You look off”. Sam also pulling back and squinting at him suspiciously.

Danhy puts up his hands as much as he can, “yea, Tuck, man. Like I said, got some weird ass shit to explain. It’s one part a power upgrades though”; that gets him a high five.

“Awesome dude! You better explain though, you look all kinds of off”.

Sam frowning at him, crossing her arms, “agreed, your eyes look more like Vlad’s”.

“I take great offence to that, ouch”, Danhy rubs his neck before pointing at his bed and moving to flop down on it, they join him is a sorta cuddle pile at least. “Okay, so when I said I’m related to Pariah, I meant that shit. See apparently these two ghost gods had a kid, some other ghost gods were assholes trying to basically kill me so the one god sent me to the living realm where Jazz found me and thus I got adopted by the Fentons”.

It takes a while to get a response, Tuck snorting, “so basically you’re not human at all and never were? How the heck, dude”.

Sam hums, poking Danny’s side, “I’m not so sure about that, he’s way too human to not be human-ish”.

Danhy chuckling, “I mean, I did grow up around humans, Sam. But yes, I am human. My two actual parents are crazy-”. 

“-wow, you find out your crazy parents aren’t actually your parents only for your actual parents to also be crazy, fuck you I guess”.

Danhy jabs Tuck one, lightly because he’s pretty positive his strength is outta whack, “I know right? Anyway they decided fuck it, let’s have a kid that is utterly impossible and both a hundred percent dead AND a hundred percent alive. So I’m not half alive, half dead any more; just all dead and all alive”. They both laugh mercilessly. “Oh and Sam? No one and nothing actually killed me, all the portal did was apparently weaken the seal or whatever my apparent pops put on me so I’d stay hidden with humans”. 

The sigh of relief is very audible, Danny’s frankly just glad that she’ll hopefully finally stop blaming herself for something that was never her fault now. He knows Sam’s biting her lip, “well the accident still could have gotten you found I guess”. 

“Sam no, it’s seriously fine. Also pops literally knew it was gonna happen, they can see the future and I’m thankful I did not inherit that, holy shit”. That would have been such a headache and he honestly would have a hard time not constantly trying to fix future problems. Clocky seemed amoral enough to stay neutral on most things. 

“... wow. What did you inherit then?”, Tuck chuckles, “I’ve always kinda wondered what the hell you even got from your parents- the Fenton’s, I mean”.

“That’s fair”. Even Danhy kinda noticed the lack of similarities. Sam only hums in agreeance. So Danhy continues, “what’s also fair is you laughing at me when I transform next, the changes are a lot more noticeable in ghost form. My skin is blue, guys. And now my hairs made of fire”. 

Sam grumbles, “that’s going to blow up online”. 

“I know! I’m not looking forward to that”, sighing, “and my suit is less biohazard jumpsuit, more armour with actual clothing and boots and gloves and, ugh I know Vlad’s gonna be a pain, because I also have a freaking cape now”. He, once again, gets laughed at mercilessly. 

Tuck, between laughs and snorts, “in short”, laugh, “you look”, snort, “like a proper”, laugh, “proper hero”, laugh, “now”, snort, “underwear on the”, laugh, “on the outside now?”. 

“Ew no! And I’d show y'all now but I don’t feel like playing chicken with Val’s sleeping habits”.

Sam jabs him, “look at you being smart for once, also, you have stubble”. Tuck shouting, “damn you!”, and punching Danhy in the arm. 

Danhy cackles, “sucks to suck, Tuck! But literally both of them have solid facial hair so it ain’t weird, though Clocky’s is only sometimes there? Cause they’ve got a weird constant age changing thing going on, also glad I didn’t inherit that”, and shudders to himself, “also glad I’m not, like, twenty damn feet tall like dad”. 

Tuck pushes himself up to stare down at Danhy, quirking an eyebrow, “you have adjusted weirdly quickly to calling them your, dad and pops? Two guys? Whatever. Ghost thing?”. Sam grumbling, “it’s not like the Fenton’s really deserve to be called parents to begin with”. 

Danhy wincing, they weren’t exactly wrong about that. Jack and Maddie had never really treated him or Jazz super well. Eyeing Tuck, “yeah, ghost thing. Apparently ghosts can just feel family, that’s partly why I know they’re telling the truth. Besides the sudden changes in my appearance and Pariah doing a sudden one eighty from murdery to ‘son?’”, humming, “it’s sorta a soft, safe, yarn feeling; kinda hard to put into words”. 

Tuck shrugs down at him before flopping back down partly on top of him, “eh that tracks for ghost shit, dude”, jerking back up, “wait Pariah’s the ghost king right?!?”.

Sam jerking up too, “oh yeah, you said you were related. Seriously though? One of your parents is the literal king of ghosts? Is that why he basically demanded you to come to him? Oh that jackass!”. 

“Sam the guy was locked in a coffin for centuries thinking his kid was fucking dead dead, I think he’s allowed to be a bit of a jackass”, shrugging up at them, “but yes, that Pariah. I basically said ‘harder daddy’ mid fight and dude went ‘I’m not trying to break your arm, son’, I was very confused”. Tuck wheezes and smacks the bed a few times, Sam just glares at him murderously; she’s calling him a moron in her head, he knows it. 

All three still at a soft groan, looking down to the corner where Val is stirring. Danhy pushing himself to be sitting upright with his friends, “well good morning sleepy head”. That gets Val awake immediately, her jumping up “Danny! Where have you been! And why does your hair look like you fluffed it to death with a towel?”. Danhy can’t help wheezing and bending over at that; Sam and Tuck joining in and even Val eventually, who flops back down onto the floor. 

Danhy wiping away a tear, “ho, I needed that, thanks Val”. She rolls her eyes, Danhy continuing, “and I’ve been finding out I’m fucking adopted, hows your day going?”. Sam and Tuck give him slightly worried looks so he leans over whispering, “it’s fine, I’ve pretty much been told I gotta be open about it as, you know, good ol’ human Danny not-a-Fenton”. They sigh at him, clearly thinking this is dumb but not fighting him on this. 

He can’t blame them, it is actively pretty fucking dumb. But the pros out weigh the cons, causing chaos for one and of course covering any ghostly shit he might do and covering Frighty maybe following him around and getting him out of ‘being a Fenton’ kinda and letting him go back home to the castle more. Lots of things really. 

Val blinks at him, “what? Since when? Like the Fenton’s aren’t your parents or someone literally just randomly adopted you and you had to go deal with it”.

“The first, Val. My life’s weird but the universe doesn’t quite hate me that much, zone fuck”.

Tuck snorting, “if anyone accidentally adopted Danny, it’d be Vlad”. 

“Do not temp that fate, Tuck”. Danhy ignores the huffed, “as if Pariah or ClockWork would allow such a thing”, from the other side of the door; at least the guy was quiet enough to avoid being heard by normal human ears. 

Val grimaces, “I hate that you sound like you have a point”. 

Danhy grimacing, “he’s tried. Buuuuuut, apparently my real parents hid me in a forest to stop gods from killing me, because the universe does actually hate me that much, the Fenton’s found me and now here I am? Tada?”, shrugging exaggeratedly, “also I may or may not owe the town a slight apology since my dad is the guy that just abducted the town into the gz”.

Val stares at him disbelievingly, “... the giant Viking ghost is your dad? What the fuck Danny”. 

“Yup, apparently him and a literal ghost god wanted a living kid, ninety percent out of spite towards life and death itself apparently. Some overseer asshole ghost gods did not like that apparently”. 

Val throws her hands up in the air, “it’s official, I give up on actually making any sense out of you”, pointing at him, “you are human though, right?”. 

“Yes, Val. Just a little weirder than should be possible. Technically my existence is an affront to nature and completely impossible”. 

“Can you use your parent rights to make all these ghosts fuck off?”.

“Fuck you. I stand for free will”.

Sam huffing and crossing her arms, “I second that free will. What, in any realm, would make you think Danny’s the type to strip that away from people? Dead people or not”.

Val sticks her arms out to the side, “they’re being a problem!”.

Danhy sticks his arms out right back, “maybe I like problems! Just be glad me not being totally fucking dead solved one problem. Since dad was only being murdery since he thought I’d been smitted out of existence by floating assholes!”. 

“You’re seriously calling a ghost dad?!?”.

“Yes! Fuck you! He’s dad!”, shrugging, “other’s pops even if they’re a they them”.

Val geistiges wildly, “they’re ghosts, Danny!”.

“I have decided I do not care, and it ain’t up to you if I care or not, so there”, and Danhy sticks out his tongue at her. 

Val groans loudly, let her be upset, this ain’t her choice. His actual parents were great! Val glaring, “you’re a dumbass”.

“That’s not new news”. 

Val stares at him. He stares back. Eventually she sags, “whelp, guess I’m sorta friends with a dumbass and a guy with ghost family, fuck my life”, blinking, “wait is this why you’re sorta ghostly?”.

That gets three, ‘what’s in response. So she shrugs, “your eyes flash green when you’re angry, you give off the sorta creepy danger vibe that ghosts do, you bare your teeth a lot”, and rolls her wrists.

“People actually notice I/he does that?!?”.

Danhy throwing his hands out, “why does no one bitch at me about that shit?!?”. 

Val looks amused, still clearly annoyed but also amused, “Everyone just thinks the Fenton’s messed you up”. 

Danhy flushes, “well to be fair they did feed me ectoplasm, so they probably would have”. Why they did that he still doesn’t quite get, scientists sure but if you’re gonna test shit like that then test it on yourself not on your supposed kids. 

Tuck snorting, “well I guess we know how the heck that didn’t kill you, or mess you up”. 

Val grimaces, “yeah that’s really messed up, I thought you were kidding all the times you mentioned them basically experimenting on you”, huffing, “I guess I can understand not wanting the Fenton’s as parents. Taking ghosts over them is still ridiculous. And I am absolutely not calling you, ‘your highness’”. 

The FrightKnight has apparently gotten bored, sticking his head in through the door, “you should, the Prince is above you”. 

Val damn near launches herself into the ceiling, and twitches; Danhy groans, “you were doing so good at staying, like a good little doggie”. The FrightKnight almost looks insulted as he just walks through the door entirely into the room, ugh. 

Val growling, “what the hell”. Danny would bet money that she’s seconds away from trying to throw hands with the FrightKnight... again. 

Danny jumping up and off of his bed, standing between a pissed and startled Val and Frighty, “don’t start throwing my stuff at the dude that’s technically my body guard now”. The FrightKnight is busy glaring down at the somehow still unconscious Vlad. Danhy continuing with trying to pacify the trigger happy huntress, “yes, Pariah basically stuck him to me ‘cause of, you know, people maybe wanting to kill me for my relations and shit”. That was some believable bullshit, right? Right.

She smacks him, which he fully expected, at least The FrightKnight doesn’t react; because Danhy’s friends and sorta friend are absolutely allowed to hit him. Thing is Val just kinda keeps hitting him, until she seems to tire herself out; Sam and Tuck are just laughing, since it was kinda obvious she wasn’t actually trying to hurt him here. Danhy, with arms covering his face for protection, “you done?”; he wasn’t even so much as bruised but still, he is definitely more durable now.

She hits him once more just to be able to say, “no”. Then flopping back down onto the ground, leaning backwards on her hands and glaring up at Danhy, “you suck, that thing was literally terrorising people and now it’s just following you around? Seriously?”. 

“He’s the fucking personification of fear, what the Zone do you expect? For him to not scare people?”.

Sam getting up and brushing off her pants, “as fun as it was to watch Valerie beat you, we should probably drop Vlad off before he wakes up to a knight ghost ominously staring down at him”. The FrightKnight sighs, picking the old man up and throwing him over his shoulder, definitely bruising the guys chin in the process, “I’m well aware of his residences”. 

Val glaring, “and whys that, ghost”. 

“He attempted to request for my assistance before”. 

Danhy puts a hand to his chest, “and what? You’re just gonna leave poor, weak, defenceless, me here alone. The audacity. How could you”. Sam smacks him over the head for that one. The FrightKnight just shaking his head before flying off out the window... at least Val doesn’t try to follow him or some shit, even if Danhy’s positive she wants to. 

Annnnnd then Jazz opens the door, sticking her head in, “okay so, I noticed the very unnecessary and noticeable, Danny, guard is gone. I feel the need to point out that you are absolutely going to have to explain this to mom and dad if that Knight ghost is just going to follow you around constantly”. 

Danhy rubbing his neck then looking around the room, “so who feels like helping explain that their adopted kid is the child of ghosts, ghost royalty and gods specifically, to the Fenton’s?”. 

Val puts her hands up, “nope. I’m out. I was out before you even asked. I’d offer a place to stay if me and dad had the room though. Also, you still suck”. Tuck adding on, “my place is always open to Danny-dude, don’t worry about it”. 

Sam laughing at him, “I’m pretty sure no one can actually help with that, Danny. You’re screwed”.

“Ha! Don’t I know it”, Danhy shrugging, “advice though?”; Danhy’s open to pretty much anything here. ‘Cause there was no way this was going to go remotely well for him at all, even kinda. 

“Don’t tell them at all?”.

“Hide all the weapons before they get here, remove the weapons vault doorknob, and stand very far away”.

“Don’t die”.

“Don’t outright reject them as parents, I get that you might not see that way now, but do they really need to know that?”.

Danhy scratching his head, “well not dying is kinda the main goal, Val, and I’m telling them, Sam”.

Sam huffs, “I don’t know why you think they deserve to know anything ever”. 

Danhy rolling eyes, “at the least they gave me family till I found my actual one”, pointing at Val, “ghosts or no”, then focusing back on Sam, “and not telling them when I fully intend to be more or less public with this sounds super stupid and hard to do”. 

“Why would you do that?”.

“Even I think that’s stupid to do, Danny”.

“I mean at least I’ll get some cred for being a prince’s friend? I also think this is a dumb idea though, man”.

Danhy leans away from them all, “hey, literally all three of you immediately noticed I’ve changed, for one. For two, I need some kind of explination for inevitable accidental ghost-like shit. For three, I honestly would rather sleep in Pariah’s Keep than here; I have a room that’s super comfy with a very cuddle pile worthy bed. For four, they, Pariah mostly, really want it public and as it stands I like them”.

Sam smirks at him, “aw look at you actually trying to make a parental figure proud for a change”. Danhy pouts at her, yes Pariah did… probably end A TON of ghosts and all the ghosts seemed to view him as a horrific threat but Danhy’s positive he’d take losing his own loved ones just as poorly if not worse. The guy was old fashion but he seemed nice enough! Sure he shot Danhy into a wall and a bunch of other things but that’s just ghosts for you. Plus! Danhy not being good at fighting would definitely be a problem, ‘cause he’s one hundred percent going to get into fights purely because of who he is now rather than just what or because he was protecting humans or because he was fun to fight. Now there were gonna be ghosts who wanted to test ‘their prince’ -still weird that that meant him- and ‘Pariah’s spawn’. Danhy’s got no clue how well known clockpops is so he can’t say for sure if anyone’s gonna fight him over being related to them or not.

Jazz sighing, walking over more and smiling at Danhy, “I guess they really must have made a good impression then”. Val scowling, “since when do ghosts ever leave good impressions”.

Danhy snickering, “oh I don’t know, Val. Phantom leaves pretty big ones in the road all the time”. She scowls at him but jumps from her phone going off, “shit dad”, and scurrying out of the room shouting about how she ‘has to head home’ and to ‘not be stupid Danny! They’re ghosts!’. Honestly, Danhy’s more cautious with ghosts than most since he actually knows what he’s actually dealing with, sure the bond thing is definitely making him lower his guard to a weird degree, but screw her, they were safe and home and his. Danhy shaking his head then looking back to his friends and sister, “I guess I should have said this already, but seeing as everyone just keeps saying my name-”.

“It’s a very easy way to scold you, Danny”.

“True”.

“It’s also kinda funny”.

“Hey at least we’re not like Dash”.

“Ugh, don’t remind me”, Danhy sags a little before straightening out, “anyways, they totally changed my name”.

“What!”.

“No! I object”.

“… your face tells me they changed it to actually be Danny”.

Sam and Tuck both blinking and relaxing at realising Jazz is probably right. Danhy grinning, “pretty much, it’s Danhy, with an h, now. It’s Nordic I think?”, and shrugs. All three just laugh at him, Tuck googling a little and yup it’s Nordic.

Sam patting Danhy’s back, “have fun telling Lancer and Vlad that, do you care if we just still with what we know?”.

“Naw, it’s basically the same. And Lancer gets a free pass, Vlad though I’m gonna have fun with. Though I think I convinced dad to not beat them up for calling me ‘Daniel’? he really doesn’t like that someone else named me”.

Jazz shaking her head but tapping her chin, “well, being your actual parents that makes sense, parents often put lots of care and thought into names. And even mom and dad-”, eyeing Danhy a little, “-don’t ever really call you that”.

That was probably really for the best, even if the nickname he gave himself was based off the name they gave him, which of course basically chose his new actual name for him. Pariah was probably never going to actually forgive pops for letting someone else name him. Shrugging, “which I’m very glad about, it not being a name my actual folks gave me is probably part of why I never liked it”, rubbing his neck, “and I’m still not sure on what to call… Jack and Maddie, Jazz. ‘Cause they’re definitely not mom and dad now”, and grimaces, “which is hundred percent partly a ghost thing”. Again, them being ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ felt very wrong now, it made his spine crawl almost as much as it did with Vlad. She doesn’t look happy so he sighs, “it’ll definitely depend how the talk goes”.

Sam huffing, crossing her arms, “if they kick you out or ask if you can give them your parents for experiments, then all they’ll get from me is called ‘the Fenton’s’ with fucking venom”. Danhy scowling, “Sam, if they do the second one I will throw hands”. She clearly agrees with that plan.

Tuck moving to sit back on his? bed, “figured out what you are gonna tell ‘em?”.

“Honesty? Minus any ‘I’m Phantom’ stuff”, rubbing his neck, “Zone I’ll probably explain things better to them than y’all just to get it all out on the table at once”. At least they all nod at that.

Jazz pointing at him though, “do you actually know everything about it though?”. Of course he didn’t? When did he ever know everything about whatever was going on with him? He just laughs meanly at her, making her roll her eyes, “you know if you can’t actually answer all their questions they’re not gonna believe you really”.

“Well then that’s on them”, shrugging, “sure pops could absolutely explain everything, they know literally everything about everything pretty much, but Maddie and Jack probably won’t believe a ghost and ClockWork will definitely mess with them. They gave me my goblin energy”.

“Oh Zone no”.

“There’s a god with your goblin energy? We’re all doomed”.

Jazz just smiles and laughs at him a little, at least she wasn’t freaking out on him. Especially since she knew about the whole ‘your brother is a dead ghost that fights ghosts in the streets all the time’ thing. He’s got some serious questions about how much she knew about his bullshit but that was a conversation for another day and time, especially considering he can hear the front door opening. “Oh shit, I think I just ran out of planning time”.

Jazz quirks an eyebrow but Sam crouches and scurries out of the room quietly and back in, nodding at him, “yeah it’s them. Want us to hide out in here in case shit goes south?”.

Danny crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow, “will you actually stay up here if they do say something messed up?”, she pouts at him making him sigh, “just, only come down if I actually ask you guys to? Please?”, pointing at Jazz, “and we both know you’ll talk over me and try to explain things yourself”.

She doesn’t deny it, because it’s true and she knows it. “I’ll be in my room, but I’m going to talk to them first”, at Danhy’s face, “not to explain anything, just to prepare them. You being ‘surprise I know I’m adopted’ is not a great ice breaker, Danhy”.

“Well it’s all I got”.

“Exactly”, she huffs and walks out of the room. “Oh! Glad you guys are back!…”.

Danhy blinking at the closing door, did she always have to meddle so much? Like yes he loved her, very much, but ugh. Sisters. She also had a point which was so annoying. Sam and Tuck both pat his back supportingly. Sam pointing at him, “know that both of us will throw hands if they hurt you”. Tuck lifting up his pda, “ready and waiting to strike”.

Zone damn it, he loves these stupid assholes. Queue one quick-ish hugging session.

Jazz eyeing her folks, she seriously hoped this went well. Danny would be upset if it didn’t regardless of them ‘not being mom and dad’. And she doesn’t want to have to choose between her brother and her parents, even if she knows who she’ll pick without a doubt. She loved her parents but they… weren’t great parents or great people.

“How’s holding down the fort been, Jazzy-pants?”.

Mom smacking him lightly, “she didn’t call, so well”, eyeing Jazz, “or it better have been going well”.

Jazz putting on a smile, “it’s been fine, mom. But there is something that’s come up, you remember how Danny was outside the shield?”, hopefully Danny’s hearing is good enough to hear what she’s going with, since he can’t tell them about intentionally flying off to ‘fight Pariah’ as Phantom.

Both nod, mom immediately looking worried, “oh no, did he get sick? Exposed to too much ectoplasm or hurt?”. Dad making a fist, “if any ghost did then they’re meeting Jack Fenton! And his guns!”.

Even if there was a concerning amount of bigotry behind it the statement that he’d defend her brother still makes her feel warm inside. They weren’t great parents, but they weren’t terrible ones either; they had their moments. Smiling a real smile at them, “no he’s fine, mom, dad. Rather, you remember how you guys said I found Danny? Your theory was nearly completely right about what happened”. Sadly she doesn’t think there’s anyway to explain to them without them knowing Danny actually was in that forest because of ghosts. There was no other actually truthful way to explain that. And if Danny was going to be honest about what his real parents were, the only way that would go well is if her and Danny could convince them that at least his parents didn’t mean him harm. Would protect him.

Dad going wide-eyed, smacking a fist into his hand, “I knew it!”, then deflating, “wait, did the ghost or ghosts who spirited him away come back for him?!”. Mom frowning immediately, “how do you know this? Honey?”.

Jazz gestures at the table and gets them to sit down, her following, “I know because he’s been explaining what happened. The conversation with, yes dad, the ghost who did that. They were protecting him from another ghost or ghosts”.

Mom frowning, “are you sure about that? That doesn’t make sense with ghosts, Jazz”; dad just looks concerned and confused. Which is actually good.

Jazz nodding immediately, “Phantom and that vampire ghost make it really obvious ghosts do weird things to spite each other. It’s not that weird. Plus-”, frowning, because this is when she should frown, “-they were, or are, his parent. The ghost left him there with the intent of us finding him, raising him, protecting him. Because they couldn’t anymore”. Are they going to misinterpret that? Yes. But starting with Danny being born from two ghosts was not a good idea. Let them think Danny’s parent died for now.

Mom looks genuinely sad, knitting her fingers together over her mouth, “I suppose if there’s one thing a parent would remember, even as an impression, it is to protect their child. Especially an infant. Or remember enough to do some ounce of good with their existence”.

Dad nodding readily, “perhaps they were so focused on him that it affected their ghost impression? A parent’s love is one of the strongest things there is after all!”. Jazz isn’t sold on that one, especially with how they’ve treated her and Danny. Dad humming, thinking, “so he was spirited away by a ghost, just away from other ghosts!”.

Mom looks at him fondly before eyeing Jazz, “it sounds like this ghost… still remembers him? And he’s sure about that?”.

Now that’s definitely something Danny’s better off trying to explain himself. “You should ask him that, the ghost doesn’t sound like a normal ghost, mom”. Jazz kinda wishes that didn’t get them more interested in this. “I’m just giving you guys a heads up that he knows he’s effectively adopted and he wants to talk about it but it’s very weird”.

Dad and mom exchanging looks before nodding at her. So she gets up to go get her brother… she hopes they don’t notice he looks a little different. Because that? She can’t explain in any way they’ll take well; especially when her own understanding of how and why that happened is so limited.

---

Danhy quirking an eyebrow at the door as Jazz sticks her head back in, “I’d say you’re good to go, you heard all of that?”.

“Yeah, way to confuse them. Now I have to definitely explain that they were ghosts before I was even a damn idea. Heck, I’m pretty sure ClockWork was born a ghost and just kinda popped into existence”.

Sam rolls her eyes, “gods”, but moves to shove Danhy out of the door. Tuck giving him a thumbs up, “we’ll be here, dude”. Jazz nodding, “I’ll be in my room while you guys have your talk, just, remember they have been parents to you”.

Danhy wincing and nodding as she walks off to her room, leaving him hovering at the top of the stairs a bit, not literally hovering at least. Okay so… for now he thinks he should at least try to leave out that his dad is the king of all ghosts and that his pops is a literal god. That might be too much and they might not even believe him, and Pariah didn’t exactly make a great first impression on anyone. Shaking his head and heading down, this was gonna suck.

Chap.4: Don’t You Want To See A Bit More Of A Better Me?

Danhy tilts sideways to have just his head in the kitchen, eyeing… Jack and Maddie at the table. They smile at him and pat him over, a good sign? Nice. Okay, Jazz’s plan hadn’t been totally shit. Swallowing a little and walking in, shit Jazz didn’t explain that he looked different at all did she? Well they hadn’t noticed more noticeable bullshit. Danhy’s gonna pretend he doesn’t look any different at all. Rubbing his neck as he sits down, “so. You guys adopted me from a random forest, huh?”.

Maddie laughs a little, “I doubt the forest was your parent, sweetie”.

… well at least being called ‘sweetie’ didn’t bother him, cool. So Danhy laughs too, “that would be very confusing”.

…

Jack sticks his arms out, apparently done with the silence, “so you got ghost family! You sure about that one? How?!”. Maddie nodding, “I’d like to know that too. What proof this ghost had”.

Okay. Suspicious but not too suspicious, he can deal with that. Danhy had been more suspect himself, “oh trust me I didn’t believe them at all at first even slightly and was trying to sneak over to something I could use to defend myself”.

“Atta boy!”, Jack smacks him on the shoulder, it hurt a lot less than it used to. Jack was never gonna get better with his strength, Danhy had to not copy that. “A Fenton by brith or not, you were still raised one! Ha!”.

Danhy can’t even say no to that, they did try to ‘make a Fenton’ of him for sure.

Maddie grinning and nodding, “good”, frowning a little, “you’ve always been strangely ghost friendly, so you can understand us being worried right?”, smiling and leaning over to ruffle his hair, “and you’re still our son, if you want to be”.

Danhy making a point not to cringe, that would just be mean and they wouldn’t understand currently or ever maybe, who knows. He’s trying to have this conversation not go to shit and cringing over being called ‘son’ was not the way to get what he wanted. “I mean, I definitely would like to still be family, but they’re definitely my parents?”. Wow he sucks at this.

It’s not remotely surprising they look a little hurt, Maddie frowning, “are… both ghosts? You want… ghosts as parents?”; he can see she’s struggling to not get upset with him. Jack frowning too, “so… not son?”; he looks like he might cry.

Damn it.

Danhy refuses to make Jack? Not-dad? Cry? Fuck he needs something to call them that isn’t just their names. Oh shit Jack’s gonna cry if he hears Danhy call Pariah ‘dad’. It feels way too right not to though? “I mean, yes? No? I’m still thinking on things I guess”, and rubs his neck; at least Jack brightens up a bit. Danhy eyeing Maddie, “definitely yes to them being my parents though, um, it’s not just because I don’t really agree with you guys about ghosts though”.

She sighs, nodding to herself before going back to watching him, “could you explain that then?”. And Jack starts muttering about ‘if this makes the ghosts his family too’ and what to do about that which is baffling to hear? What the hell? Even Maddie looks a little thrown.

Danhy shrugs exaggeratedly, “where to start?”, crap he’s not used to being honest with them, “um so, the reason I was in that forest was because my one parent was protecting me from other ghosts right? Well, that’s ’cause the- I wasn’t, like, a baby who’s parent died”, rolling his wrist awkwardly, “they were ghosts before I was born”.

Jack sputters, “that’s impossible”; Maddie’s just opening and closing her mouth. So Danhy kinda rushes to continue, “that’s kinda what I said”, how the actual shit is he supposed to explain this actually? Well… he could just give the explanation that was given to him? Was that basically telling them he was a ghost? Yeah pretty much. Was doing that kinda dumb? Definitely. Was it all he can think of? Yup. Rubbing his neck, “but like ghosts are mostly an unknown so it’s not that weird to run into something new right? They pretty much called me a ‘living ghost’? Ghost with a living human body that’s entirely theirs and stuff”. Danhy mildly wants to crawl in a hole. “And I can definitely feel that I’m related to them”, now he’s rambling, cool, “it’s like a fluffy safe connection? Yarn in my chest? It’s really hard to explain”, not to mention kinda embarrassing, “and yes I know for sure they didn’t, like, actually put anything in me or whatever. It’s feelings and stuff”. Ugh this sucks. “And I mean I’ve always been kinda weird, I know that. And maybe I should have mentioned a while ago I can understand ghost speak and sense ghosts? And is not exactly new news that all the anti-ghost stuff hurts me-”, he is talking himself into that hole he wanted to crawl into.

Maddie thankfully interrupts him, maybe picking up that he is officially panicking, this was supposed to be a calm! controlled! conversation! It wasn’t! Maddie patting his head, “hey woah, it’s okay. It’s not, but it’s okay”. Jack also scooting his chair closer to Danhy without being looming about it, Maddie taking a breath, “so what you’re saying is you’re not… really human but are? An alive ghost should just be a normal living creature but that can’t be the case if what you’re saying is true”.

Danhy can’t help glaring a little, “I’m positive it’s true”. If they don’t believe him or doubt everything that comes out of his mouth then this conversation is totally pointless and stupid and he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up at all.

Jack humming, tapping his chin before tilting his head at Danhy, “Where are you feeling all that confusing stuff?”.

“I was told in my core. Which, fine, I have basically no idea what that is”. Did ClockWork explain? Yes. Did that explanation make much sense? No.

They exchange a look, a look Danhy’s not sure if he likes or not. Maddie nodding and staring down at the table, “its something we’ve hypothesised ghosts having as the central part of their being”, her humming again and eyeing Danhy in that scientist way that he definitely doesn’t like; it takes a bit of effort to not shrink away.

Fuck it, Danhy’s calling them on it, he doesn’t want them thinking his okay with that, “don’t stare at me like I’m an experiment”, he cuts himself off from calling her ‘Maddie’ he’s not trying to hurt them. As it is she flinches, giving a quiet, “sorry, Danny”.

Jack looking between Danhy, who’s trying not to come off as angry, and Maddie, who’s glancing down at the table. Eyeing Danhy, “so you’re sure about this, kiddo?”.

Danhy winds up almost growling, okay so the more ghostly stuff about him is definitely more on the surface now or whatever, “yes”. It’s just questioning his parents, his real parents, about this just feels insulting. At least kiddo was fine with him though, it was less ‘your my child’ and more ‘you’re a child’.

Jack gestures a bit stiffly and not really looking at Danhy, “and it’s not from like, being influenced by being close to these ghosts?”. Maddie bitting her lip, “if ghosts were that influential, we’d have bigger problems. This is… still strange though”.

This is not going super great. He kinda doesn’t want to be here anymore. Now they’re talking like he’s not right here.

“It would make more sense for ghosts to steal a human and infect them over time to become ghostly”.

“A ghost fused into a human permanently maybe?”.

No. Danhy’s not dealing with this. Ugh.

“Cannibalism would make more sense than fusion, Jack”.

Nope. He’s out. He did not cannibalise anyone or thing, or fuse, or get corrupted, or whatever else. Pushing himself up.

“Danny?”.

“Danno?”.

Danny stuck his head up the stairs, “you guys can come down and deal with this shit! I’m going for a fucking walk!”. Why did he think this was going to be a good idea in the first fucking place? God damn. Stupid fucking ClockWork for encouraging this shit and his dumbass. He needs to get out.

Sam and Tuck pop their heads out before Jazz does. Tuck quirking an eyebrow at the annoyed to possibly pissed off sorta-halfa, “you good, man?”.

“I just need to not be here for a bit. I need out”.

The two get down lightning quick and basically block Maddie and Jack from trying to stop him. They’re still upset of course but whatever.

“Wait!! Danny why?!”.

Danhy rubbing his temples, “I’m not dealing with this, with you debating me commit freaking cannibalism like I’d ever do that even as a child, what the hell?! My days been weird enough”, and stalks out of the house, slamming the door.

Danhy can see through the window that Jazz has come down the stairs partly, her arms are crossed and she doesn’t look impressed. Him just able to hear Maddie, “it just don’t make any sense, Jazz!”.

…

Yeah okay that didn’t go well. At all. He kinda just wants to go home, the Keep home not FentonWorks. Or maybe he’ll stumble upon Boxy and kick his ass a little bit. Of course as soon as he thinks that, a ghost shows up, it’s just the FrightKnight though.

“I don’t know why you’re putting yourself through this”.

Danhy rolls his eyes at the ghost, not stopping his walking, hands in his pockets, “because I’m not an ass and they do actually deserve to know? Fuck you. They might be a little stupid and bigoted, but I didn’t see your sorry ass looking after baby me”. Granted he wouldn’t have know if the guy had been but Danhy seriously doubts it.

“Daniel”.

Danhy snapping his head to the side at Vlad, “not you too, fuck off. Also that’s not my name, you piss-ant”.

“I’m not the type to change, regardless of a name change”.

“Yeah I figured that, you moron. Wait how do you know that”.

Vlad looks unimpressed, “you know I’ve been bugging your house repeatedly, use your brain for once”.

Okay fine, Danhy should have seen that one coming, “jerk”.

“Know that you have finally succeeded in giving me the worst day of my life. You actually fouled my plan, sweet Maddie isn’t related to my preferred child, I can’t steal a kid from that psycho, you have that what was supposed to mine, and I’m absolutely going to take that out on you”.

Danhy grins, “wow, thanks for actually cheering me up, fruitloop”. Vlad shoots him with an ecto-beam immediately.

The FrightKnight just stands on the sidewalk watching the two sorta rivals beat the shit out of each other. Phantom lets himself get thrown into a wall, like he wants to feel pain which was actually the case a little. Plasmius gets punched in the face and looked a little worried about that.

The FrightKnight is just pleased that Phantom is clearly stronger. He’d been confused and maybe worried about his kings child being so weak, looks like that was for nothing. There’s a small explosion, Phantom doesn’t take any damage; good. Even if the child does get ganged up on by duplicates, he just starts grabbing their feet and smacking them at stuff. Phantom hasn’t even changed forms, almost impressive; not that The FrightKnight is so easily impressed.

“Why are you even trying in that form, boy?”.

“Because I’m not dealing with you mocking me for having a cape now, shut up”. The boy digs in the trash pulls out sauce packets and starts throwing them at Plasmius angrily.

They explode.

Sometimes the FrightKnight believes this town would make good horror material. An entire town happily eating highly explosive sauce was inspired and vaguely insane. At least his majesty would be pleased to hear that one of the first things his son did was torment the one whom was foolish enough to try and steal from the crown high king.

Plasmius does flea after that, in a very annoyed manner. Phantom still attempting to pelt him with things from the ground, the boy setting down a bench he’d debated on throwing; the FrightKnight approaching, “you done”.

“Piss off, oh my Zone”, the boy huffing and glancing around, “I’m surprised no one noticed that shit”, and rolls his shoulders out.

… has he really not noticed? Sigh. This child was going to be the end of him. “This place is your domain, your more direct lair, yours, you didn’t want to be noticed so you were not”.

“That’s worrying”.

The FrightKnight still does not understand this child in the slightest.

By the time Danhy decides to go back to FentonWorks he’s more or less worked through the fact that he apparently unknowingly has control or influence over the town, which Frighty thinks is a good thing, and has decided to just shove it up on that mental shelf he’s got going. That thing was going to give out eventually and it would not be pretty. Oh well. It’s not collapsing right now, is it. Later him’s issue.

Danhy pointing at the ghost, “stay put, seriously”, and grumbling at the ghost seemingly disappearing into Danhy’s shadow, before pushing his way back into the house. He probably looked like shit.

He did look like shit.

Tuck raises an eyebrow, “dude, what the hell kind of walk did you go on?”. Sam shaking her head, “really? Danny?”.

Jack’s looking at him awkwardly while Maddie worries her hands, “you okay, sweetie?”.

Danhy grumbles, “got attacked by a dog, it was a very stupid walk. I’m fine, but possibly more annoyed than before”, meaning: ghost picked a fight. Sam and Tuck sigh at him. Jack and Maddie wincing in unison.

The grown ups exchanging looks before both look back to him, oh Zone, what now? He only came back because he wound up walking into a pole and just gave up on the whole relaxing walk thing. Jack grinning in that nervous but trying to not seem nervous kind of way, “so we’ve decided it doesn’t really matter how you are they way you are, we know you and raised you, you’re you and you’re family”, the smile looking more real, “can I please still call you son?”.

“Oh my Zone, dad! What did I say about that?”, Jazz pops out from the kitchen.

Danhy has no clue what she’s talking about, “Jazz… what did you talk about?”. She looks smug, “just that mom and dad calling you ‘son’ would piss the possessive ghosts off and that would make you sad because you don’t want any fighting, nothing much”.

Danhy should have thought of that himself, damn. Because yeah that wasn’t even a lie, Pariah would fight them… ClockWork maybe not, they seem more the pranking type. Danhy rubbing his neck, “okay, yeah. That’s true”, rubbing his neck, “at least one of them would definitely throw hands, which I think I got them agree to not do just because someone calls me ‘Daniel’”.

Sam nodding at him, crossing her arms at his… uh he still doesn’t have a word and he’s frankly still too annoyed to come up with one. “They renamed him Danhy, with an H”. The goth relaxes at Maddie actually smiling at her over that, “yeah, guess Daniel never really fit”.

Danhy shrugs, “I don’t know if it’s because my, well actual, parents weren’t the ones who gave it to me or not”, and shrugs again, more apologetically this time.

Jack rubs his neck, which Danhy guess is something he picked up from him, “the connection yeah? Speaking of that, if you can sense ghosts, did you sense them and that’s why you went outside the shield? That was very dangerous!”, and laughs a little. Maddie nodding readily, frown at Danhy, “you worried us a lot with that stunt”.

Danny moved to the couch flopping down, Tuck giving him a thumbs up, “well if you’re done being dramatic, which I definitely know where you got that from now, me and Sam should probably check in with our own folks”. Danhy waves them off, “hey, I’ve got nothing on, uh, dad?”. Oh zone yeah Jack looks a little crushed, oof.

Danhy rubbing his neck very awkwardly at that as the door opens and shuts, “sorry? Um, the term really fits him okay and feels, like, super right? Sorry”.

The man pouts, “can I at least be uncle?”.

Damn it. Now Danhy feels like an asshole for something he kinda can’t help. Shit. “Of course! If that’s okay? Father’s kinda too stuffy for me to use for anyone”, tilting his head and looking up at the ceiling, “I guess faðir fits him the same but I think that’s dad in Viking or whatever”. Still weird he knew another language just randomly. Looking back to his.. uncle? Vlad was gonna be pissed. “And yeah they sense differently to me, not that I knew why at the time”. Danhy had thought it was just because both of them were stupidly powerful, far more than any other ghost he’d ever met before. But nope! They were surprise parents!

Jack grins, “it’s not as good as dad, but I’ll take it. And Viking language?”. Maddie nodding, “aunty is okay, I agree it’s not great but it’s better than you calling me ‘Maddie’, mister. Still not impressed you went to check out random ghosts on a whim without telling us, even if I know you’re a curious kid”; somehow that was both fond and scolding. Ugh.

Yeah even Danhy would feel like an ass just using their names to their faces, but the auntie and uncle thing was probably just going to be an ‘around them’ thing. He’s been calling them by their names for years with his friends and as Phantom. “to be fair everything was a little crazy and you guys had a lot on your hands”, eyeing Jack, “and yeah, one of them is a Viking and somehow actually taller than you; which explains why your height has never ever bothered me”.

Jack laughs at that, “true! Even Jazzy has moments being bothered by that! Never you though!”.

Maddie gives Jack a fond look, which Danhy can understand, he pretty much never met people taller than him or people who were used to people that were as tall as him; now he’s got a sorta nephew? who’s just naturally cool with huge ass people. Maddie looking back to Danhy, “I don’t care how ‘busy’ we were, you kids are important”. 

Jazz grumbling, “you don’t show it often”, before getting up and moving back towards the kitchen, “I’m going to get tea, considering this was supposed to be a more personal conversation”; Danhy rolls his eyes at her. 

Maddie and Jack nodding at her but Jack’s still focuses on Danhy, “though question, why were you unconscious when V-man found you? If you were just, meeting, ugh, ghosts that were basically, uh, family to you?”, and tilts his head. 

Shit okay... well Danhy could just be honest again. Because well, he did basically pass out on DarkDaddy’s lap right after the whole establishing a proper connection thing. “Oh, uh, pops kinda put this seal thingy on me to hide me and it broke when I met them again, passed out”, rolling his eyes, “it wasn’t anything bad”. Granted he’d also been exhausted from using that stupid suit and basically fighting an army and mock fighting -even if he didn’t know it was a mock fight at the time- his dad. So like, it definitely wasn’t just the bond, heck it might not have even been that at all. Danhy’s had a fucking day, multiple days. 

Maddie blinks, “wait, are both of them guys?”, and shakes her head to herself before talking to him again, “I suppose that’s not too bad then, so long as this bond and broken seal isn’t hurting you”. 

Danhy shaking his head immediately, “they are, ones more genderless though. And no, don’t worry about the seal or bind thing-”. Jazz butting in, like he knew she would if she was around for all of this conversation shit, ugh, “outside of the fact that the seal was tramping down on some more ghostly behaviours and appearance”, and gives Danhy a bit of a ‘tell them, idiot’ look. Which fair, again, the more he gets out now the less he’ll have to re-explain himself later. Her comment of course results in them squinting at him, looking for changes. 

Danhy isn’t sure if he should be happy or disappointed or annoyed or just amused when it takes them a while to actually comment on a difference. Man, they could be so oblivious. Maddie humming, “your eyes do look a little different”, which she doesn’t sound happy about, “other than that all I can tell is your hair’s messier”. Then Jack goes wide-eyed and is practically vibrating in joy, “you! Have stubble! You’re becoming a man! Yes!”; and does a silly jig. Danhy buries his head in his hands in embarrassment, yes he was happy too but the jig is just too much. Jack wiping a tear from his eye, “I can finally teach my boy how to shave”. 

Danhy doesn’t have the heart to even be mad about the ‘my boy’ thing. Besides, Vlad says that shit constantly, so it was a little less annoying somehow... heck Danhy’s pretty sure Lancer’s called him ‘‘my boy’ before? 

Jack rounding on him, “you will let me teach you, right?”, and gives Danhy a pouty puppy dog look. Maddie looks like she’s has no clue if that’s a good idea or not.

Does ClockWork know how to? Obviously. Pariah? Maybe? Do either of them ever shave? What no of course not! They’re ghosts. Honestly Danhy probably actually doesn’t need to either, it’ll grow to whatever length it’s supposed to be and then just stop. But, even if he’s still slightly annoyed he’s not going to say no to the man just because he might not need too. Though there’s also the chance that even if he does shave the hair/stubble will just insta grow back. Cool, since no one -Dash- can prank him then. Jazz’s glare also screams ‘say yes or else’. Danhy smiling at his kinda uncle, “I wouldn’t dream of saying no, uh, uncle”; man that was going to take some getting used to. It didn’t come naturally like with his dad and pops. Jack cheers and continues with the jig, Jack teaching him was gonna be so embarrassing, wasn’t it? What has Danhy singed himself up for?

Maddie shakes her head at the man, “I doubt some ghosts would know how”, then eyeing Danhy, “are you… going to stick with considering yourself a ghost?”.

Jazz slipping back further into the kitchen with a sigh, Danhy frowning some, “it’s more of a both thing. I’m still alive, human, obviously. But also, all ghost too”.

Jack glances around, “a new term would be better though right? Like, not ‘ghost’, something else”, trying to sound excited, “we could totally come up with something cool sounding!”.

Oh zone no, sure there was another term for what he was but he was still a ghost. Danhy crossing his arms, “no. I’m a weird ghost but I’m a ghost. I’m not a one hundred percent different freaking species than my parents”. In what world would it not be stupid and mean to reject his actual parents species??? One that he’s definitely part of??? Especially since he knows this shit was just Jack’s goddamn bigotry. Fuck, technically the ghost species had more claim to him than the human one since he was actually related to ghosts and not to humans; even if he did grow up basically human and surrounded by humans. “And I’m absolutely letting them teach me about ghosts, what they think of them”; the ‘and humans’ goes left unsaid but it’s pretty fucking heavily implied. Jack and Maddie look less than pleased, no surprise there; since that obviously meant Danhy was never going to ‘fall in line’ with their bigotry crap. Plus they probably also thought that his parents were going to try and fill his head with anti-living shit; since the two ghost hunters were so sure about ghosts hating and wishing harm on the living and shit.

Maddie frowning, “that’s not a good idea-”.

Danhy scowling, “I don’t care or agree”.

The three of them all just kinda stare at each other for a bit then Jazz shouts, “guys! The casserole is alive! Or dead and walking!”. Danhy wheezing into a hand and losing almost all his tension, as Jack and Maddie run off into the kitchen to wrangle the sentient food. 

Danhy getting up to stare at the thing snarling in the net, “remind me again why you guys keep leaving food next to samples?”. 

“Convenience! Danny-boy!”. Jack’s cheer is a little forced but it’s still there.

Maddie smiles a little before humming and eyeing Danhy, Jack taking the net away as she gives him an actual answer, “though there did used to be an actual reason”. Jazz looks shocked, “since when!?!”. Maddie waves her off kindly, “I used to experiment with cooking with it, dear”. 

“Why?!?”.

Even Danhy makes a face, “I second the why”, sure he can eat ecto, it even tasted pretty good and tingly to him, but still. He wasn’t interested in trying to eat something that could run away from or stab him; and he’s fairly sure you can’t cook with ecto without that happening. 

She frowns a little, a bit awkward, “because of you actually, which in retrospect should have been a little more concerning”. 

Great now they’re confusing him too, “oh?”. Why were they trying to cook him ecto food, like yes they fed him just plain ecto more than once but how was food cooked with ecto any better of an ‘experiment’. Jazz still looks baffled and annoyed. 

Maddie hums, “when we first brought you home you constantly kept getting into the samples and consuming them”. Jack popping back in, “oh yeah I remember that! You made a lot of messes, a very messy baby”. It is goddamn impossible not to blush at that, this is not what he wants to hear about. Jack continuing, “we just figured you got, like, super contaminated from being spirited away that you were addicted, like a crack baby or something”.

Jazz face palms, “guys, ectoplasm crack baby is a completely insane thesis. Completely. Insane”. Danhy sticking up a finger, “Jazz, that’s probably legit though. Like it makes sense, I probably need the ecto”. He was literally a full ghost, although maybe the full human thing cancelled that shit out? Fuck if he knows and Clockpops would definitely not give him a straight answer purely to be confusing. Would also more explain sticking a sorta ghost with freaking ghost hunters. Blinking and looking at Maddie, “so making me eating and gargling ectoplasm and sh-stuff wasn’t just you guys being kinda immoral scientists?”. 

Jack rubs his neck, “I mean, we were definitely curious what would happen?”.

“That is stupid, full offence”, shaking his head a little, “no wonder that whole weird ecto-contamination thing was so easily accepted, geez”. 

Maddie ruffles his hair stiffly some, which he glares at her hand over, especially cause she almost seemed like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to touch him at all; he absolutely noticed her glancing between her gloves and his hair. Maddie nodding, “it wasn’t really surprising a massive dose of ectoplasm would make the way you were already, worse”, frowning and humming, “now I’m not so sure. And your hair is definitely different”. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine; that basically just weakened the seal some”, shrugging, “and like with that whole contamination thing, I’m basically just being open with this whole child of ghosts thing. You know, at school and stuff”. Danhy can’t be assed to try and keep yet another secret, especially when not keeping this one could help him keep the far more important one. That whole ‘weird ecto-contamination’ was only going to go so damn far. Being weird, creepy, eye fashes, and whatnot could apparently be shrugged off, but inhuman strength and like actually looking more ghost-like was pushing it. 

Maddie nodding, “if that’s what you want, Danny. Even if I don’t really like you… ‘owning’ this ghost idea”, shaking her head a little, “we’re going to get some strange calls then”.

She clearly still didn’t buy him seeing himself as a ghost, but there was legit no point fighting her on it. “So same ol’ same ol’?”.

Jack laughs loudly, smacking Danhy on the back, which he doesn’t nearly fall over from, “true!”... “so feel like trying to shave?”. 

Danhy snorts, figures, “sure, uncle, sure”; he ignores the slight hurt look with Jack basically pulling him up strairs. 

Is Danny surprised they never asked to ‘met’ his actual parents? Zone no. They were ghosts, of course they didn’t want to play friendly with them. That was probably for the best though, since both of his parents were a bit much and Jack and Maddie definitely will remember Pariah, considering what just happened. 

Maddie shakes her head, frowning a little as the two boys disappear into the bathroom. Jazz walking up next to her, “if you guys mess this up I’m going to be pissed”.

“I know. It’ll just be, a bit hard”. 

“Of course, but you can work through it. Let him be accepting of himself even if you don’t agree, or else. And if the ghosts mess up, we’ll beat the zone out of them, I’ll get the creep stick”. 

“Absolutely, honey”. Jazz nodding and moving to go check on the two boys. Maddie frowning after a bit, “those ghosts… they’re going to completely corrupt him, aren’t they?”, and sighs, “all I can do is try to minimise the damage”.

Danhy does stay the night at FentonWorks, he was pretty positive that if he didn’t it would completely destroy whatever relationship he had with Jack and Maddie; even if he absolutely was paranoid they’d do something in his sleep. Though with it feeling like Frighty definitely was still chilling in his shadow he wasn’t really worried, weird that the ghost could do that but that’s probably what made him acceptable as a guard or whatever.

Either way breakfast is awkward. Danhy’d bet money there’s ectoplasm in his morning cereal, which Maddie made for him for the first time in a while; he already knows his bet’s a winner since he can fucking taste it… it is a very good thing he actually likes ecto, damn. Jack’s reading the paper, Jazz has already run off to help some teacher set some whatever up, and Maddie’s staring at her coffee. Like he said, awkward. If he was at the Keep dad would probably be looming over him still adjusting to the fact that Danhy’s not dead dead, and pops would be pretending to answer Danhy’s question by giving non-answers; maybe they’d both be working, which is probably what they’re doing now. Is it wrong of him to rather be there than here? And not just because there physically felt like home in a ghostly way.

… Maybe Maddie’s waiting to see if he’ll comment on the ectoplasm? Or maybe trying to work up the balls to ask him if he preferred it with ecto or not? That was probably being a little hopeful of him, it was more likely that she just didn’t know what to say to the literal ghost in the room. Swallowing more cereal, “so”. Maddie jerks. “Any problems with me going to school today?”. If she wants him to stay home for ‘tests’ then he’s fucking done. He’s leaving and not coming back.

She breathes a little before shaking her head and giving him a sorta smile, “no. You seem fine and still don’t really look different”. Jack looking away from the paper to give Danhy a bit of a shove, “you’re not getting out of school that easy, Danno”. Danhy pouting, pretending that was why he asked that. Jack chuckles at him, while Danhy goes about finishing his cereal.

Danhy’s not really surprised when they basically push him out the front door with very firm ‘stay in school’s, which fine he’s earned but still. Ugh. Eyeing his bedroom window from the street… he doesn’t really trust them to just do their usual, to leave his room and whatnot alone. Humming to himself, glancing at his shadow, “can I totally have someone or something keep watch here in case they do something fucking dumb?”.

The rumbled, “of course, my prince”, isn’t even remotely surprising. The little purple fire bats disappearing into his bedroom window isn’t quite what Danhy was going for but guesses he couldn’t get rid of his little babysitter that easily. “They are fools if they dare do wrong by you. Mortal’s are horribly ill-informed”.

Danhy shrugging as he begins his walk, that becomes a fly as soon as he’s out of sight of FentonWorks, “I know. It’s a pain but whatever. And I guess I get the joy of being the ghost royal, still weird, with contact and influence and shit here”.

The FrightKnight takes a bit to respond, “I suppose there’s some added power in such a thing. Power you should prove, your subjects should kneel, use your fangs on those who don’t deserve your grace”.

Danhy stomps on his shadow as he lands by the school, even if that probably did nothing to the jerk ghost, “I’m not a killer, you dick. Dad might have gone all mass murder genocide shit but I’m not him”.

… “Ancient ClockWork has ended far more, entire timelines of existence”.

Okay Danhy’s not sure what to make of that one. “And I’m not them either, wow”. Congrats self! Your lineage is super fucking murdery! Yay! Another thing for the mental self! Those Observant guys were probably worried their kid would be like them or something, or just hated the idea of a prince, or the alive and dead thing, or were just assholes. Or option D: All of the above!

Is Danhy gonna have to watch himself for murdery desires? Cool. Great. Not loving that thought. Might be part of why he’s such a combative motherfucker though, he liked shit kicking and liked getting shit kicked to a degree.

A huntress frowns at Danhy’s bedroom door, walking in, “I need to at least know how strong these ghosts are, where they are, if we can deal with them”; and begins moving to shove little tracker beads in his shoes.

“I wouldn’t do that, if you want to keep any connection to him”.

She jumps, whirling towards Danhy’s bed, tensing, “how did you get here, ghost”, frowning, “what did you do to the security system”. Neither are questions.

“Ghost. God. Not so separate things. Security that works today once did not exist to function at all. The security right now is that of yesteryears. I can be anywhere, any-when, I desire to be”, a clock-themed ghost seems to clean their staff, barely paying any mind to the huntress.

The huntress balls her fist, “you’re one of the ones claiming to be related to him, aren’t you”.

“Hmmm. Reality and claims aren’t the same thing, I reside within the former alone. Whereas all you have in your grasp is claims”.

“Why did you leave him to us”.

“I desire not to see my child bleeding out in front of me. He is yet mortal, forgive me if I am well too aware how fragile mortals are sometimes. I am fine being the Prometheus to the Observants standing as a version of Zeus, but I have no tolerance for their punishments; I reject death, in the true sense, as his fate”.

“And his… other parent?”.

“The representation of death itself has no reason to allow a death that is unwelcome. Whether by his own choice, or another’s choice for him and in his place”.

A few small bats of purple flames squeaking from a corner of the room, blinking glowing red eyes at the huntress as she slowly turns her head to look to the sound.

“I’d take your creations with you when you leave, before smaller hands grab them up to show off your betrayal to younger minds”.

Danhy shoving the school doors open, waving at Sam and Tuck immediately.

Tuck grinning, “dude, I’m shocked they didn’t try to keep you home!”.

Danhy laughing, “same! Anyway wanna watch me freak Lance out? I figured I should be nice and give him a heads up”.

Sam rolling her eyes, “by ‘nice’, you mean terrorise him personally”. Danhy grins devilishly. “Really doing your parents proud, there”.

The FrughrKnoghr adding his two cents, “he should be feared”.

“Dude, if you talk my ear off all day I’m gonna lose my shit”.

Sam and Tuck snapping their heads down to Danhy’s feet. Tuck blinking, “bring your ghost to school day?”. Sam smirking, “we should make that an actual thing”.

“Sam that is a terrible idea, oh my zone”, Danhy shakes his head but starts walking off to Lancer’s little office. All three of them sticking their heads inside, Lancer spotting them and quirking an eyebrow.

Sam and Tuck gesturing ridiculously at Danhy, “we present to you the problem child, turns out he was born in another dimension, have fun”; they promptly ditch his ass, jerks.

Lancer looks very worried, Danhy facepalming, groaning, “guuuuuys, you dicks”.

“Language, Daniel, but yes, that was very confusing”.

Danhy’s shadow/the FrightKnight scoffs. At least he doesn’t try ‘to smite’ his teacher. Danhy holding up a finger, “okay first, my name is actually not Daniel and second, I’m adopted”.

Lancer sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “do you have proof, Daniel, because name changes are a legal issue and will need to be updated in the school files if you’re actually being serious”.

Oh shit, yeah. Wait, did Jack and Maddie even legally adopt him at all???? It really doesn’t sound like it. “I was apparently found in a random forest, I might not actually have been adopted legally, I didn’t think to ask”.

“You… didn’t think to ask?”; Lance looks very disappointed in him and reaches for the phone, “I’m calling home”.

Danhy shrugging and just moving to sit down in a chair, his first class was home ec anyways which he was banned from cooking in due to incidences with sentient food. “That’s fair. The other dimension thing was not a joke, by the by”.

Lance’s less than impressed, but doesn’t get to respond as Maddie’s picked up, “Danny told you?”.

Lancer’s sigh is tired, “so I’m not being pranked”, eyeing Danhy, “I know you and your ways”. Danhy whistles, playing at being a sweet innocent angel. Lancer returning his attention to the phone, “though he doesn’t seem to know if he has legal proof”.

Things being up to legal human standards wasn’t exactly where his focus was, okay? He had other shit to think about and deal with. At least his ghost ears made it easy to hear Maddie.

“We… don’t actually have legal papers for him”.

Lancer blinks, “what”.

Oh wow, Danhy should have figured this. When had they ever been fully law following? They drove a modified mini military vehicle for fucks sake; he’s pretty sure they didn’t get that legally either.

“He is telling the truth, though. Even if I don’t know what in all he has told you. We hadn’t intended to adopt some ghosts child but apparently we’ve missed a few things with our general research”.

She… totally doesn’t realise he can hear her, does she? At least she sounds more awkward and concerned than scientific or cold.

Lancer puts his head in his hand, sighing loudly, “alright, I’ll let you go then”.

“Oh no problem, Mr. Lancer. It’s better he explains things anyways”.

Lancer stares at the phone for a beat when she hangs up, looking at Danhy, “are things alright with them?”.

Danhy shrugs awkwardly, “it’s weird, I guess”.

Lancer frowns at that, “and this ‘different’ dimension is where all the ghosts are from? The ghost zone?”; him leaning forward on his elbows.

Danhy rubs his neck, “got it in one”, shrugging, “my, you know, actual parents showed up during that invasion thing. I am apparently a human ghost, do not question it, it’s weird and according to them an ‘affront to nature’ and ‘defiling life’, which was kinda the goal”.

… “your parents called you an affront to nature?”.

“I have really weird luck with parental figures”. Or attempted parental figures, in Vlad’s case.

Lancer sighs yet again, “alright. I’m to assume this, and not the ecto-contamination, is why you’re a bit different from your peers?”.

“It’s kinda impossible for a ghost to have ecto-contamination, Lance. So yeah. Pretty much. I’m still, like, alive though. Hence the defiling life thing”.

Lancer rubs his temples, whispering to himself, “my favourite student is a paradox, figures”, then looking up at Danhy, “and that won’t be a problem? For you, here or at home? What’s going on with your living situation? I’ll be very sad if you’re pulling out of schooling”.

Danhy holds up his hands, “no, no, I might not love school but I plan to see it through, no worries. So long as the government doesn’t try to, like, abduct me or something”. Oh Danhy hasn’t even remotely mentally addressed that shit. He probably maybe doesn’t have human rights in any shape, way, or form now. Especially if he was not even legally a citizen, what the Hell. Blinking, “you know, I’m probably an illegal Immigrant. Should probably do something about that”.

Lancer’s looking at him like he’s giving the guy an aneurism, “I’m sure I could help with that if need be”.

“Lance, I’m pretty sure there is no way for someone from another realm to get legal citizenship anywhere”. Either Jack and Maddie or him will have to go commit crimes; unless they did actually have citizenship for him… and maybe forged birth records. “They probably do have papers for me, just forged ones”.

Lancer nods acceptingly, tired, but accepting, “and how are they being at home?”.

Lance ain’t gonna drop that, is he? Eh, understandable. “Um, we kinda agreed they’re more aunt and uncle now, ‘cause my parents are definitely my parents. Weird ghost connection thing, don’t ask. And I have no clue with the ‘living situation’ thing”, and shrugs. Like he absolutely wasn’t leaving Amity but he also definitely was going to be at the Keep a lot of the time, he can’t just not stay at FentonWorks either though. Ugh.

“Well as much as I believe a child should live with their parents, I do not believe that would be in your best interests, at least not permanent residence there. Especially as I doubt the school could send your report cards to another realm, physically or online. I also don’t feel comfortable listing a ghost or ghosts as your emergency contacts”. Okay that would be a horrible nightmare, calling in a freaking warlord god king or literal time god because Danhy started another food fight, would not go over well with anyone. Lancer continuing, “now, are you going to need any accommodations? Whether because of home environment or species?”.

Okay, Lancer is baffling him a little with how okay he is with this shit. “You are weirdly good at taking things in stride, you know that right?”, Danhy shaking his head at the smile, “I don’t think so? I’ve always been weird so. Just maybe change my name on the records, my parents really don’t like anyone calling me by a name that they didn’t give me or I didn’t give myself or whatever. Nicknames and shit”.

Lancer nodding and writing that down, “what should it be changed to?”.

“What? Oh, uh, Danhy with an h; it’s Norse. Dad’s a Viking I think”.

“It’s good that’s similar, easier adjustment. One that will still take time of course”.

“Yeah I expected that, I did tell him not to smite you or whatever”.

“That’s… appreciated, Danie-Danhy. Are you remaining a Fenton, though?”.

Now that Danhy’s really not sure about. Obviously he has to have a last name ‘as a human’, but calling himself Danhy Fenton felt a little insulting towards his own actual parents. Sure he was still ‘a Fenton’ cause that was more a ‘part of the family’ thing; like Sam and Tuck were ‘honorary Fenton’s’. “I have no idea”.

Lancer nods, “no pressure, I doubt the system will let you not have a last name though. I’ll look into it, your parents aren’t going to assault anyone for using it?”.

“Maybe”. Danhy’s barely resisting snickering at that, was that a little mean? Yes. “My sorta body guard will probably glare at them though”.

“Body guard?”.

Danhy pointing down at his shadow, at least all Frighty does is makes his eyes visible. Lancer jerking a little, going wide-eyed, “is there a ghost in your shadow”; he looks very done with Danhy.

Danhy giving a cheery, “yup!”, then standing up and stretching, “some ghosts were trying to murder me as a baby, hence why I wound in a forest in this realm, or whatever. And pops might have not told dad I wasn’t dead dead, so a little over protective now”.

Lancer shakes his head disbelievingly, “I suppose I can understand that”, eyeing Danhy’s shadow, “is the ghost going to behave itself?”.

“Hopefully?”, Danhy looks down at his shadow/The FrightKnight, “be a good doggie”. He can absolutely feel the glare and scowl.

Lancer actually smiles a little at that before shooing Danhy off, “you have classes to go to, are you alright with me informing your other teachers of this?”.

Danhy gives him a thumbs up as he heads out the door, “that’s kinda the point, I can’t be arsed to keep this to myself”.

“Language”.

Has Danhy missed all of his home ec class? Of course, sure he could maybe hit up the last few minutes but naw; why bother. Instead he’s just gonna be lazy and wander off to math, even if that was a stupid subject. Basically no one was going to use that shit outside of class. In fact Danhy’s so lazy about it that he actually winds up late, because of course.

Ms. Emily sighing at him, pointing to his desk without even bothering to give him shit. Danhy shakes his head though, this class has, like half, of the A-listers so it was perfect for the gossip mill. “Naw, I have a speech to give”.

Todd snorting, “if it’s an apology on behalf of your parents, shove it”.

“Todd”.

Todd rolls his eyes at her.

Danhy waves a hand around, “kinda, different parents though”. Nice. Now he’s got everyone’s confused attention, pointing at Dash, “turns out I’m adopted, I’m not a Fenton, my parents are ghosts. I am still alive, don’t worry. I am also dead, so worry. That is all”, and Danhy sits his ass down, smirking the whole time; the teacher is glaring at him.

Dash spins around in his chair, glaring at Danhy, “well what’s your actual last name if you’re not a Fenton?”.

Danhy rolling his eyes, “of course that’s what you care about. Ghosts don’t have last names, Dash”. Sure Ember did but that was kinda all that he knew of… well Pariah did have the whole ‘dark’ thing, which might? be a last name? maybe?

“I need something to work with, Fen-“, Dash cutting himself off then gesturing wildly at Danhy. 

Then someone finally actually shouts at him, “what the hell! What do you even mean?!”. Which opens the floodgates apparently.

“Are you trying to say you’re a ghost?”.

“Of course the Fenton’s would steal a ghosts child! wait! Ghosts can have kids?!?!”.

“It sounded more like being that box cat thing?”.

“No wonder you’re a weirdo! Ha!”.

“What is YOUR LAST NAME!”.

“How the hell was that an apology from any parents?”.

“So just how wrong are the Fenton’s about ghosts?”.

“Is this why you have that dangerous aura around you!”.

“Are you leaving Amity for death land then?”.

“Is Jazz stolen from ghosts too then? Do the Fentons’s even have actual kids?!?”.

“Are your parents as pathetic as you?”.

“Everyone quiet down”, Ms. Emily standing up, “I have a class to teach, save this for after class”, sighing, “you know what you did, Danny, but for once I’ll let you off the hook”.

Danhy snorting, speaking very sarcastically, “gEe, ThAnKs. HoW vErY nIcE oF yOu”. Danhy standing up, “but I have the masses to appease”, looking at everyone before she can kick him out, “one, I mean what I mean. I’m ghost, hence the dead aura, and living person and my parents are ghosts and while my adoption has no legal standing or whatever at least one of my actual parents approved it”, shrugging, “sure the other never knew and may have gone into a murderous fit of rage thinking I’d been offed, but eh. And no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily”, holding up a finger, “Jazz is their, the Fenton’s, bio kid though”.

Dash is not done with him apparently, “does she still call your brother or can I finally get with that?”.

Danhy gapes at him, what the fuck dude. Ew! “You said the quiet part out loud, what the Hell Dash”.

“I said what I said, loser. She hot”.

“Oh my Zone! Ew!”, Danhy shakes his head, “no. I’m still her brother, keep your hands to yourself, I will hit you with a baseball bat too”.

“I’d like to see you try!”.

James muttering, “what does he mean ‘too’?”.

“Do not temp me, I also can and will sic a ghost on you”; if Danhy’s going to have Frighty harass anyone, it’s gonna be Dash. “And dude, I think ‘Dark’ might be a last name but don’t quote me, you idiot”.

“Whatever, Darkie. Ha! Guess I know why your friends with a goth weirdo now”.

Danhy stares at him, Casey hits Dash with a pencil for him though, “that is a slur!”. Danhy facepalms, “if you want to get kicked off of the football team, go right ahead, Dash”.

“I did not know that!”, Dash makes a few faces, “dank? Dunk? Daftpunk?”, he scowls, “Fenton is a better last name”.

“I’m not sticking to Fenton just because you find it easier to make up insulting names with!”.

“Whatever, Darkside”.

Danhy blinks, wasn’t Darkside, like, a tyrannical god king? That was trying to eliminate hope and free will? Sure at least his dad had, like, a legit reason, but still. “Dash, my dad kinda is a real life Darkside; that’s more accurate family descriptor than insult”.

Todd snorting, “so that’s what you meant by ‘went a little murdery’”.

Ah fuck it, whatever. Shrugging, “I mean, he did just abduct the entire town so, yeah”.

“Is that why we all just suddenly were back in our world?!? Because he found his damn kid!”.

“How do you cause so many problems!”.

“Your dad is giant?!?”.

“Didn’t he have a fucking skeleton army?”.

“How are both your dads massive men!”.

“Did the town get abducted because you’re here? Or was that just a really suspicious coincidence?”.

Ms. Emily snapping, “that’s enough!”, pointing at Danhy, “you! Out!”.

Danhy puts up his hands in surrender, “the people want what they, and they don’t want math, Ms. Emily. That’s hardly my fault”, moving towards the door as she points to it, him looking at everyone though, “he wasn’t here because of me but he did leave because of me!”; and slips outside.

Nice.

No math class for him.

Danhy chuckling to himself, “well that was fun”; he hadn’t really meant to reveal his dad was the guy that just abducted them but that ‘Darkside’ comment was just too good to resist. Should he just start popping into random classroom doing that? He’ll definitely get detention doing that shit. Doesn’t stop him from being tempted though.

Then Kwan pops out of a classroom, a teacher clearly yelling at him, “sit back down!”. Kwan looking right at Danhy, “is your dad a warlord ghost! Dude that is awesome! Why are you so small then!”.

Danhy blinks at the guy before laughing, smooth Dash, smooth. Danhy giving a thumbs up, “yup! And shut up, I just haven’t hit a grow spurt yet, you jerk”. Kwan laughs but gets knocked over by pretty much a whole class crowding the doorway.

“Did I hear that right?!?”.

“Way to get weirder! Holy shit!”.

“If your parents are ghosts how old are they!”.

“Isn’t time weird in the zone? Or something? How old are you?”.

“How the hell are you alive if you’re dead!”.

“How do ghosts have babies?”.

“Did ghosts intentionally have a freaking human child? Who does that!”.

“Is your dad gonna try and enslave us again?!?”.

“Wait if your dad’s a war lord then what the hell is your mom!”.

“How pissed are the Fenton’s!”.

“Are they gonna fight these ghosts!”.

“Why are you even still here if you’re a ghost!”.

Oh wow this is hilarious, all the shouting is basically melding into one mess of noise. Danhy kinda doesn’t want to deal with it actually; it was like getting fan girl mobbed as Phantom… putting up his hands, “heh”, chuckling, “I’m not a ghost, I’m alive. I’m not alive, I’m a ghost. I didn’t ask how they had a child! Ew! And one of them might be older than humanity, maybe”, smirking at Kyle, “and no mom, other be genderless, fuck the gender spectrum”.

Kyle cheers, “wooo! Hell yeah!”. While their teacher hurls an eraser out of the doorway at Danhy, “sit! Back! Down! And you! LEAVE! You menace!”.

some of the teens scurry back as they’re told, Danhy standing on his tippy toes to eye the pissed teacher, “you know that’s probably bigoted to say to me, considering what gets shouted at ghosts all the time”. Basically half the class turns on the teacher shouting, “yeah!”. But the teacher stomps over to the door, gets the remaining teens in and slams the door hard.

The FrightKnight hums from Danhy’s shadow, “seems you’re more a ghost than I may have previously believed”.

“Is that how you’re gonna try saying you thought I didn’t having an ounce of fearsomeness in my body?”.

“You summoned me to help your pathetic attempt at a haunted house…”.

Okay that was fair, “hey, I don’t do terror well but I do do confusion and chaos well. There’s a reason I’m banned from cooking, carrying fragile shit, having both lunch meat and batteries on me, bringing Nasty sauce to school, or putting my personal coffee in the teachers lounge; which to be fair to that last one, someone did almost die”.

The FrightKnight actually seems impressed, meaning Danhy as his Danhy self has impressed the ghost of fear itself somehow. Cool? Cool. Then one of the seniors on a spare walks over, sticks a sticker to his shoulder with a, “you are now the Casperhigh ghost mascot”, and walks away. Leaving Danhy blinking, looking at the sticker, it’s a toast cat, then wheeze laughing, “my point stands, oh wow!”.

Then the bell rings, apparently he was right outside Sam’s class now. Her looking at him with his hands on his knees wiping away a tear, “what did you do?”.

Danhy snickering, “got a sticker”, and pushes himself to stand up straight, “got kicked out of class, and a second class that I was never actually in”.

“So you told everyone, huh”.

“Yup”.

“Dumbass”.

Danhy shrugs as they head to his and her next class, “eh, it’ll cover any weird ghost shit about me. Especially if more of it crops up”.

“Like the eyes?”.

“Like the eyes”; he’d almost been tempted to steal some of Jazz's or Sam’s concealer but fuck that, he’s owning his actual parents genetics. At least Maddie noticing that meant it was the most noticeable thing… until he gets actual facial hair instead of just tiny now shaved off stubble. Or until hits a sudden and probably ridiculous growth spurt; he’s seriously hoping he doesn’t wind up super super tall. Even when he believed Jack was his dad he didn’t want that height, Pariah was worse. At least ClockWork was barely taller than Danhy now… depending on form.

Her nodding as they get in to their seats, “yeah, it’s more noticeable in the crap school lights than your room. Legit eyeliner”.

“Hey there’s a reason I nicknamed it evil eyeliner, which I still don’t have a new word for”.

She smacks him, “stick with it! Show your evil side! You dad is definitely evil”.

“What no, he was just, having issues, being a little funky guy”.

“Is that what you call mass murder these days?”.

Danhy pouts at her, she rolls her eyes; but everyone else is coming in now so…

1.

2..

3…

4….

“I thought you were dead!”.

And there it is… wait what? “I’m a ghost and alive! Who told you I was dead or dead dead!? Double dead? Dead squared? Death double down? The big flop part two?”.

“Why do you even look human? Do your parents look human?”.

“Are you going to bring your parents to school?”.

“Where are you even living?”.

“How do you survive without ectoplasm?”.

“If I die can you turn me into a ghost?”.

“How many wars makes a ghost a war lord?”.

“By war lord is he, like, royalty?”.

“What is wrong with your life?”.

“This should have been a school assembly!”.

“So that ecto-contamination thing was bullshit huh?”.

“If ghosts can make babies with ghosts can they make babies with humans?”.

“Are you a contamination?”.

Danhy is having mild regrets; Clockpops is probably laughing at him right now. Danhy shouting, “I can’t answer half that shit!”, throwing his hands up, “all of y’all just make a questionnaire, bitches loves questionnaires, bitches like me!”.

Jesse pouts, “your fault for being weird”, sticking up a finger and looking at the others, “but I thought everyone knew Danhy ate ectoplasm? Like the Fenton’s fed it to him?”.

“What!”.

“Oh that’s nasty!”.

“Oh right I forgot about that, too weird”.

“So he hasn’t been surviving without ectoplasm?”.

Danhy huffs crossing his arms, “considering they put some in my breakfast this morning, no I haven’t been. Apparently I used to raid their samples as a little kid, they thought I was an ecto crack baby instead of a ghost”.

“That is completely insane”.

“I thought the Fenton’s were supposed to be smart!”.

“It’s not really wrong though…”.

“So instead of ‘oh hey! Human looking ghost baby!’ They went ‘ECTO CRACK’?”.

Danhy shrugs, “to be fair, I am alive. That’s basically the opposite of being a ghost, not guessing ‘ghost baby’ is normal”.

“Aka you’re a fucking weirdo”.

Lancer comes in and sighs at everything, “Danhy, the next time you want to relay mind breaking news to the entire student body, we’re having an assembly”.

Danhy tilting his head with a smirk, “getting complaints?”.

“Many. But I am still holding class today, leave your questions for the boy till lunch”.

But Danhy’s smirk only grows, “is this when I should mention that my dad is definitely royalty? And my pops is a god?”. Even Sam smacks him as the room erupts into incoherent shouts. Lancer massages his temples with feeling. Danny’s tempted to shout ‘hail Satan’ just to make the chaos a little worse.

…

He absolutely does get multiple questionnaires at lunch. Zone, he’s pretty sure one was from the damn janitor… since the only question on it was if Danhy was the one leaving ecto-bio-hazard messes and if he was going to keep doing that. Okay so maybe Danhy wasn’t the best at not getting his red green blood on things. Oops. At least it was unsurprising that the most common question was ‘are you dead?’, which was also the most confusing one to give an answer too since the answer was BOTH… the jury’s out on that one… yes and no… you decide for yourself… debatable… a drawing of a box with an arrow pointing to it attached to the word ‘cat’.

Lancer actually set up a google survey for him to fill out and just mass send the responses out. Cool, less effort for Danhy.

Lancer shakes his head at his computer, scrolling through the pages of a very peculiar survey. “That boy, this is absurd”.

Did your dad abduct the town? Yes, but like he had reasons. Wouldn’t you be upset at the world if you thought some gods went and offed your kid??

Is your dad royalty? Tots.

Did you say you’re other dad’s a god? Yup. Time daddy. Chronos. They hit me for calling them that so you suck.

You have two dads? Eh? Ones more genderless.

Are you a contaminate like ghosts are? I am a ghost. Obviously

Are you human? Yes, no, maybe so

Are you a ghost? Yes, no, maybe so

Are you royalty? Yes, no, maybe so

Are you a god? Yes, no, maybe so

Do you eat ectoplasm? Not intentionally, meaning yes.

Are the Fenton’s still your parents? No. Aunty and uncle.

Are you moving to the ghost zone? No, I call visitation rights and frequent flyer points though.

How were you born? Ew.

Were you born in the ghost zone? obviously.

Did the Fenton’s steal you? Surprisingly no

Are you illegal? Yes, no, maybe so

Why don’t you look like a ghost? I do though, y’all just don’t notice. I’m also, like, young and shit

How do ghosts have babies? EW.

Are you sure Jazz is still your sister? YES DASH I KNOW THIS WAS YOU

Are you going to take over the town in your dad’s place now? NO! Besides, he already thinks I have apparently. I did not correct him.

Is this why you feel like a dangerous threat? Yes, no, maybe so

Are you the one leaving red green blood all over the place? Sorry

Why do you look human? Because I am?

And on and on it went. Lancer sighing, “some of this is far too invasive, at least mine got answered”.

Are you okay? As I ever am, so yeah.

“School is going to be incredibly interesting and painful for the next while”, shaking his head, “and I’ve gotten three reports of him breaking things, again”.

Chap. 5: Show Me To My Wonderland

Prompts: Pariah doesn't really believe in second chances so much as believe he's still on his first one if you twist the entire situation around enough Danny finds out he's adopted. It goes surprisingly well.: Danny is Clockwork's and Pariah Dark's son, but when Clockwork was attacked by the Observants, he sent a newborn Danny to a random time in the future to keep him safe. His disappearance triggered Pariah Dark's madness. Centuries later, Danny is found by the Fentons. When Danny fights Pariah Dark, he immediately recognizes his Son. Clockwork time-fight. That's the whole prompt, I just want to see clockwork being badass in a fight. It can be against someone else with time powers, or not! go nuts. Vlad is having the worst day ever. Ghosts have this aura around them, something that makes the human hindbrain say /danger/, gets a heartbeat racing, makes gooseflesh rise on the skin; But of course this is normal for dead things. So why does it happen to anyone around Danny Fenton?

[dannystattoo]

august

chapter 1 - "i can see us lost in the memory"

you didn't plan on spending your summer fixing up your family's old cabin, but you also didn't plan on reconnecting with your childhood crush for the summer. based on august by taylor swift

Pairing: Danny Wagner x fem reader

Warnings:  Some language, but that's about it

Spending the summer after your senior year of college helping maintain your grandparents’ cabin was not what you’d anticipated upon graduating. While you wouldn’t say you were ready to tackle job hunting just yet, you would have preferred to have at least been able to stay in the college town with all of your friends for a couple more months. You’d have loved to at least have a last hurrah before you all inevitably moved on to whatever was next. Life had a way of happening though. Your grandfather passed away in the winter and a lot had changed. Your grandma wasn’t able to live on her own, so she had moved in with your family for the time being. Your parents were also trying to figure out what to do with the cabin your grandparents had purchased decades ago. It was your grandpa’s pride and joy, and he would never let anyone sell it even if he’d barely been able to use it in the last few years. The rest of your family, grandma included, couldn’t care less about keeping the property in the family, Since you and your siblings all moved out of the house and didn’t have the opportunity to visit much anymore, they decided it was best to sell the house. However, it needed a lot of TLC before it could go on the market and you’d gotten roped into spending your summer taking care of the property. You cursed yourself for learning so many DIY skills in college when your friends had insisted on renting the shittiest house possible your sophomore year, as well as for being the golden child who couldn’t draw boundaries with your parents no matter how hard you tried. 

…and that was how you found yourself looking around this house, wondering how the hell you were going to have it ready to list by August, in three months. Your dad offered to come up and help when he could on weekends and you did have a list of contractors your grandparents had previously used who could help with the things you weren’t able to do, but you were mostly on your own. You tried to remind yourself that his would give you the opportunity to save up some money since you weren’t paying rent and your family would be paying you for your work on the house. This would also give you time to polish your resume and work on perfecting your design portfolio, hopefully allowing you to move somewhere better than the sleepy midwest town you grew up in or the slightly less sleepy city you went to college in. Your ultimate goal was New York City, but you were aiming for Chicago right now. All things considered, though, the thought of a summer spent more or less by yourself doing a stupid amount of manual labor made the thought of living in the city in cramped apartment with multiple roommates and eating ramen for every meal sound appealing. 

It had probably been about five years since you’d spent any sizable amount of time here, and that was around the same time your family started doing the bare minimum maintenance on the place. They’d also done the bare minimum when it came to cleaning, so you spent the entire morning making one of the bedrooms and one of the bathrooms clean and comfortable enough to get you through the first few days. Once you finished that, you started trying to make a game plan, but you became overwhelmed pretty quickly. Realizing it was nearing one in the afternoon, you decided to drive into town, pick up some fast food and take a break. You weren’t able to find much, but there was a Taco Bell within a reasonable driving distance. You returned home with your Nachos Bell Grande and a massive Baja Blast, hoping that would push you to have a productive evening. It was a beautiful day out, so you took you lunch out to the dock. The gate that led down to the water’s edge was a bit rusted and hard to open, but once you got it, you remembered why you loved coming here so much as a kid. Admittedly, once you looked past the state of the house and the yard, it was gorgeous out here. You were steps away from the lake, which had a tiny private sandy beach at its edge. Trees and plants in full bloom surrounded the lake, and you always loved the glow of the sun off the water. You told yourself that if you got through a clearing the clutter in the rooms you, your siblings, and cousins had shared as kids that day, you’d reward yourself with a glass of wine and a night spent on the patio with your designs. The change in scenery was inspiring you in a way you hadn’t expected. Looking at the nearby houses, you tried to remember all the kids you’d met here over the years. They were all fleeting friendships, lasting for only one week in the summer over the 4th of July and picking up the next year, depending on who returned and when. You’d met these kids well before social media, and you had no idea what happened to any of them after losing contact. You start thinking about them, wondering where life had taken everyone after those golden summers. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that someone had appeared from the cabin next-door and they were walking down towards the water. 

“I had no idea they sold this place,” the voice said as it came up behind you. Startled, you turned around to see a man approaching you. He looked like he was about your age, maybe slightly older. You could tell from his tan skin he probably spent a lot of time outside, giving the impression of someone else who might be spending the summer here. Based on appearances alone, that was something you could get on board with. You couldn’t overlook the fact he was gorgeous - you were immediately drawn to his intense eyes and radiant smile, and the fact his was absolutely ripped didn’t hurt matters.

“Because they didn’t,” you laughed. “Granted, it’s barely been used in at least five years, but yeah, haven’t sold yet.”

“Well that’s good, I always like the people who lived here.”

“You knew them?” you were taken by surprise. 

“Oh yeah, my family owns the place next door. I’m Danny, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said. The longer you looked at him, you began to think he looked vaguely familiar. “This is gonna sound weird, but we’ve met before haven’t we?”

“You have two older sisters and your family was always here the week of the 4th of July, right?”

“Yeah. You have a younger sister and you were also always here for the 4th of July?” As Dnny confirmed this, it all came flooding back to you. 

He was part of the group of about a dozen of you who lived on this street that you’d just been thinking about. He was, in fact, a few years older than you, but you seemed to remember his younger sister was around your age. You also remembered you’d had a hugely embarrassing crush on Danny that resurfaced every year. God, you’d forgotten about him completely, as it had been ten years since you’d seen him, more since you’d seen him with any sort of regularity at the cabin. You remembered it all with clarity now. 

He was three years older than you, and by the time you were eleven and he was fourteen, he started hanging out with the group less and less. Fair enough, he was a teenager, but it didn’t hurt any less. You’d always thought he was cute and he was the only boy in the group who was always nice to you. Looking back, he treated you like a little sister, but you didn’t see it that way then. You remembered the summer you were twelve and he was fifteen when he and another one of the older girls in the group stopped hanging out with you as frequently, only showing up at events where the entire family was present. You’d been devastated when you’d accidentally stumbled upon them making out in her room at a barbecue you’d all been at. By the next summer, you were convinced that because you were thirteen and a full fledged teenager, he’d finally be interested in you. Much to your dismay, he hadn’t even come up north that year, opting to stay home in order to spend more with his friends instead. It was only a couple more years before you stopped spending long stints there in the summer. You realized how much you’d forgotten about your time here.

“So what brings you back?” Danny’s question brought you back from your nostalgia. 

“Well, my grandpa passed away over the winter -“ 

“Oh shit, i’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It wasn’t unexpected, but still. Anyway, my family is actually planning to sell now and I somehow got roped into coming out here for the summer to fix it up and get it ready to put on the market. You live in one shitty house that forces you to learn handy skills and they use it against your for the rest of your life,” you laughed.

“What, by yourself?”

“Not entirely, my dad is coming up to help me out when he can and we will need to hire people to do some of the more complicated projects. But yeah, mostly.” You were kicking yourself the moment you said it. Way to go, Y/N, you thought to yourself. You don’t know the first thing about this guy anymore and he could be a crazed serial killer for all you knew. 

“Anyway, I could ask you the same thing,” you shifted the attention back to him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Getting away, I guess? I’ve been so stuck with work lately and I thought a change of scenery might be good. Don’t ask why my first inclination was to come here, but it was.”

“By yourself?”

“For now. Three of my friends, more like my brothers actually, are planning to come up in a few weeks and spend most of the summer. They may be going back and forth between here and home a bit more than me though.”

“Where do you live?”

“Nashville.” 

“That’s so cool, I unfortunately didn’t get to go far for college and I was so lucky to move back to my hometown in Michigan after graduation. I’m hoping to save up some money over the summer so I can start looking to move. Enough about me, what is it you do for work?” You were intrigued when he said he was “uninspired”, wondering if he did something creative too.

“Uh, musician,” he said running  his hand through his dark curls. You could tell he assumed you’d react a certain way.

“No shit, that’s sick! What kind of music?”

“I’m in a rock band, drummer. I know it probably sounds kind of lame, but we’ve actually released a few single, and EP, and we just got a contract for our first full record. As exciting as all of that is, I’m having a hell of a time getting anything written to contribute to it. Decided I’d come here for a little bit first by myself, and then the guys are gonna join me in a couple weeks. I thought maybe getting out of the city would help. Plus the lease on my place was up last week and the house I’m set to move into isn’t available September 1st.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s lame at all. I’m trying to break into design, so I kind of get it.”

“Oh really, what kind?”

“My dream would be fashion, it was my main area of focus in school, but I’ve also been building by graphic design portfolio to have something more ‘practical’, as my parents would say.”

“I get that, I’m sure you can imagine my parents were just thrilled when I said I had no desire to go to college right after graduating high school.”

“Sounds like you’re doing great anyway,” you shrugged. You guys talked comfortably for quite a bit longer, catching up on the past ten years. It was nice to have found a friend so early on, at least you hoped you’d found a friend. Danny was so easy to talk to and you felt an effortless connection, even if you hadn’t seen him in a literal decade. Eventually, you picked up your phone, sitting abandoned on the table, and you didn’t like the time.

“Oh god, how is it already three? I’m so sorry, but I should probably go, I have so much work to do,”

“Honey, you have all summer,” Danny said. You wouldn’t admit that your stomach flipped when he called you that. Fuck, were you attracted to him now, still? 

“You’re right, but you have no idea how much I have to do.”

“Can I help with anything? I know I didn’t come here for home renovation projects, but you could persuade me, I think.” 

“I would actually really appreciate that, if only for the company. Tell you what, my main goal for the day was to start cleaning out some of the bedrooms, if you’d want to help? When we make some good progress, maybe we can grab dinner? Like I said, even if it’s just for the company and an accountability buddy.”

“I’d love that. Honestly, I’ve only been here like two days and I’m going insane in my own company. I was so hung up on the idea of taking a solitary trip to work that I forgot I’m an extrovert.” You smiled at him, grabbed your Taco Bell remains, and led him into the house.

“Not to be rude, but you weren’t kidding,” Danny said, looking around the house. 

 “Yeah, it’s so, so bad. We’ve hardly been up here since like, 2017, what with life and school and work, and that was around the time my grandparents weren’t able to come up here by themselves anymore. I think my parents did just enough maintenance so that the neighbors wouldn’t lose their minds.” 

“Gives me an excuse to offer my services around here a lot then?” 

“I think that sounds perfect,” you smiled, leading Danny to the bedroom you and your sisters shared years ago. Before you could stop yourself, you caught yourself thinking that you’d love to be taking him back to your room under much different circumstances. You couldn’t believe that you were down bad for this guy yet again, hours after seeing him for the first time in a decade.

To be continued

[sixstepsaway]

right, so, here are my Thoughts about that whole thing now i've slept on it. probably won't be super coherent but here we go

i feel bad for stede. he got shoved, somehow, into the weird love interest role so many female characters find themselves in, where they are truly completed by a man and a romance not the things they've been striving for throughout the series so far. he's shown no sign of wanting to give up the pirate lifestyle he's just finally got back, and to accompany him giving that up with izzy's gorgeous "piracy is about family and somewhere to belong" speech from earlier just feels cruel. we joke about how episode 2 stede wouldn't care if lucius died but that changed, he got attached, his crew became his family. they were loyal to him and followed him even when they were just working at spanish jackie's for pennies. they respected him and loved him enough to let him talk them into letting ed back on board. this was, at least at this point in stede's arc, his happy ending. in fact, you can even argue he was happy without ed for a while at the start of this episode. his relationship with ed is important and it's icing on the cake, but it isn't something to complete him, or his only source of happiness -- nor should it be!!! and then for some reason ed shows back up, fishes up his leathers, kicks ass to save him, loses izzy and now they're leaving stede's ship and crew and found family to... run an inn made out of the world's shittiest fixer-upper? stede? stede twirly fancypants bonnett??? in that place? maybe at the end of a full run this might have felt like a good conclusion to his story, him realizing he wanted belonging, not necessarily to be a pirate, and maybe them bringing some of crew along to have their home somewhere safer and happier than the piracy they don't really enjoy but turn to because they have no other choice, but right now it just feels like... honestly like either he agreed to it to keep ed with him ("AITA for convincing my boyfriend to run an inn with me after leaving him two days ago because we were moving too fast? little backstory: this involved my boyfriend leaving everything in his life for me and no i did not apologize for running off to become a fisherman") or like, as i said up there, a matter of "actually all he needed was a BOYFRIEND all along" which... ngh. stede is more than his relationship.

idk why we bothered establishing that frenchie, jim and even archie were willing to put their lives on the line and lie to ed's murderous face to save izzy's life just for them to be stone-faced and have no feelings about his loss. like, okay, ed and he's stories are tied together and him dying in ed's arms makes more sense narratively than him dying in anyone else's, but also ed hadn't earned that and izzy deserved to die in the arms of someone who hadn't tried to kill him and shot him in the leg not to mention we went from fang's squishy hug and frenchie holding his hand to just... nothing? not a thing? roach, the ship's surgeon, did nothing to try and save him? it's just ed slapping his gunshot wound pathetically?

it strongly feels like they swapped izzy and ed's roles in his death scene sounds stupid but hear me out "you're my only family" would make so much more sense coming from izzy with ed dying in his arms. izzy's desperation to keep hold of ed, right down to accidentally pushing him down the kraken path at the end of season 1, being rooted in the feeling that ed is all he has in the world? ed responding that no, the crew love izzy. he's earned their love. he has a family outside of ed now, can't he see that? that makes so much more sense, considering izzy nearly died for them multiple times and spent the first few episodes trying to protect them and then being protected by them in kind he was their new unicorn!!! meanwhile ed said sorry to fang, izzy and lucius, and no one else has been shown to give any fucks about him since that whole thing, and like... rightly so? because he hadn't earned them back at all? and he fucked off on them too last episode lol dont forget he didnt JUST leave stede

we should have known better than to trust djenks when he broke jim and olu up for no reason ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk

nothing worth a damn happened this episode it was all running around and waving swords. idk how anyone got to where they were at the end. it was just poor writing.

the pacing has been off all season but they really shoved three episodes into one and hoped it'd work

i'm getting flashbacks to the timeless ~finale~ ugh

they spent so much time one ed's stupid fishing boat monologue instead of on ANYTHING ELSE

i ran out of thoughts

oh, here's another: the show walked a line between muppetry and things that were taken seriously lucius' finger, izzy's toes: serious ed getting bonked by a cannonball: emotionally serious, but not physically serious ed and stede both getting stabbed: not serious and what was treated as serious and what was treated as handwavy was dictated by what the storyline and the emotional needs were izzy getting shot to make it so they all had to run away yapping would have been hilarious, especially if he got back to the ship and went "nah eddie it's my left side, remember what i told you about the left? nothing important on the left" "your liver" <- roach, horrified but instead weird death scene because this was treated as physically serious, even though it...should not have been, really? and that is bothering me a lot too, because when lucius was thrown to his death, we looked at stede finding the crew on the island and went, "aha! lucius will be fine, because that's what the show logic is" and we were right, because the show had taught us that but that didn't extend to izzy for this and that's just weird

[simcardiac-arrested]

Whats wrong with predator 2018?

it’s been like 10 days i’m tired but i CANNOT stay silent anymore The world deserves to know. you will not believe how awful this movie is

1. the moment the movie starts you just understand that it…is not going to be good. it was made in 2018 so of course it has that edgy self aware marvel humor of Uhmm he’s right behind me isn’t he ? (and then you check shane black’s other works and he directed iron man 3 and everything suddenly make sense) LIKE IM SERIOUS there’s just a scene in the first 10 minutes where this Woman In Stem character goes Lol why did we name this thing The Predator? it’s more like a Hunter or a Huntsman it’s more like a Bass Fisherman LIKE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? WHAT AM I HEARING RN? it’s so fucking stupid and i hate this type of humor so much like CAN U BELIEVE WE’RE IN A MOVIE? ABOUT THE PREDATOR (DUMBASS NAME (LOL))????

2. i mention the Woman In Stem character specifically because she is. also not good. i’m not going to act like the predator movies have always been the best with female characters (even 1987 has its issues) but at least they were actually BEARABLE. The girl character in this movie is just like. this annoying 2010s smartass quirky girl archetype that we put in our movie because you wanted Women(tm) right? there she is we even made her quirky!!! we’re not going to give her a single likable quality though. we’re going to write her Bad . is this what u wanted ?

3. which is not trying to imply that the other characters are written Good . they’re all written Bad they all fucking suck. none of them have any charm or likable qualities and there’s nothing to get invested in. AND THEY DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING DYNAMICS BETWEEN EACHOTHER!!!! it’s like they just exist in the same space and that’s It . they don’t get any interesting relationships or interactions . they’re all just so nothing

4. like halfway through the movie it just turns into unapologetic US army propaganda—which is fucking ironic if you know what the original predator was made for (commentary about american terrorism in central america in the 80s under reagan)—the main character’s wife just starts suddenly going off about how he’s so cool and doing so much for his country and he’s in the army waowww wowww We need to shoot everyone who’s worked on this movie and im serious.

5. i…..do not know who this movie was made for. like who is it supposed to cater to? one of its main things is autism and mental illness and yet it has the shittiest portrayal of both. But especially autism. like what if we made a movie about how autism is the next step in human evolution (?!) and autistic people are like superheroes basically (?!?!!!?) and the entire plot hinges on the fact that The Predator wants to become autistic by stealing the autistic character’s autism dna (?!?!?!?!?!?!?? WHAT? WHY ARE THERE EUGENICS IN MY PREDATOR MOVIE? IS ANYONE ELSE SEEING THIS?) (and then the autistic character in question like. actually has unironic superpowers. look he gets overwhelmed by sounds but he can instantly understand and translate predator’s alien language!!!!!!!!) And then the next minute one of the characters says Lol isn’t it crazy how we can’t say the r slur anymore? Fucked up world. LIKE SERIOUSLY WHO IS THIS MOVIE FOR? I FEEL LIKE THIS MOVIE WOULD PISS OFF BOTH THE “WOKE” AND THE “EDGY ALT RIGHT” AUDIENCES EQUALLY . shane black probably thinks autism speaks is a charity i dont even know

6. too much predator in this movie. When i say that they should make a predator movie where every scene has the predator in it YOU SHOULDNT FUCKING LISTEN TO ME IM JUST AUTISTIC. a predator movie is a THRILLER The Fucking Predator himself should appear like. a few times at least until the climax. but nooo this 2018 ass movie just has the predator running around in every scene (btw this predator moves really fucking weird in a human way. Like they usually at least make him move semi alien-like and uncannily, but this movie didnt even bother with that) (also their design is uglier than the original) (also it suffers from the same problem as the 2010 movie by adding a Bigger Cooler Buffer Awesomer Deadlier New Predator LIKE WHO ASKED FOR THIS. WAS MY OG WIFE NOT ENOUGH FOR U) Anyway yeah if you didnt get it yet: this movie doesnt understand what impact or subtlety is. at all

7. the worst thing is with the finale. you see every predator sequel loves to reference the original 1987 movie because well, it’s iconic! it has a lot of meaningful moments and lines! Specifically in the ending of the original movie, where the main character asks the predator “what the hell are you?” and the predator echoes it back at him. Supposed to symbolize us army = monsters who kill without meaning yadda yadda u get it. anyway so in the 2018 movie finale they start to reference this moment too. the main character asks And what the fuck are you (ooo f bomb we’re SOOOO edgy and 2018core) and when the predator starts asking it back the main character just goes SHUT THE FUCK UP😂 and shoots him. it’s like. my hatred for this movie was indescribable at that moment. I’ve never actually genuinely watched a marvel movie so i just took people at their word when they said it was a genre of movie that fucking hated movies. but after watching the predator (2018) which is basically a marvel version of predator? yeah i get it. What if they made a movie that hated its source material and had 0 respect for it. and also hated its audience. and hated being a movie

8. they made the dogs ugly

[berenwrites]

WIP tag game!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was tagged by the lovely @katyawriteswhump and, for once, I am not madly chasing my tail, so I have time to join in the fun! The word I was given is TOAST.

I'm afraid I have not been keeping track of who has already been tagged in the game, so no pressure to: @steddiecameraroll @steddiealltheway @rogueddie @lexirosewrites

Your word is: TRIALS

Onto my excerpts:

💖From my currently posting SteddieBang fic Wolf In the Light:

“They also know I’m usually carting the gremlins around,” Steve agreed. “Maybe that can work in our favour?”

“What are you thinking, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I’m thinking that it won’t take all of us to break out Max,” he said, thinking it through as he went, “so how about I take the kids and make it very obvious we are not at the hospital?”

“How?” Nancy asked.

💖From a WiP tentatively called Too Late?:

Omegas that only blossomed when they found their perfect match of an alpha, or the other way around, were a thing for romance novels and syrupy sweet movies. Going through life thinking they were broken, only for the perfect mixture of chemistry and circumstance to bring them hope and love.

Only Steve’s romance was a tragedy.

💖Another from Wolf In the Light:

After the powwow at Hopper’s cabin, everyone had gone home. It had been just over a day and a half since then. Dustin had filled Steve and Robin in on how El had tried again with Max, but not had any luck when they met up at the school to help with the relief effort the next day. Steve hated leaving Eddie, but they were playing a game with the army and local police, trying to make everything look normal.

💖From a WiP as yet untitled with A/B/O dynamics:

“Steve,” he called, deciding to go simply with the other man’s name given what he was here to do.

He shut the door behind him, locking it and moving into the dark vehicle. Robin appeared to have closed all the blinds. The only sound that came from inside was a quiet whimper. He moved without thinking as his alpha instincts fired, pushing him towards the omega in distress. Honestly, he’d never felt anything quite like it. There had been the odd time he’d had the urge to put his fist through someone like Billy Hargroves’ face, the shittiest most cliched alpha to ever alpha, but it hadn’t been like this.

💖From another untitled WiP this one about soulmates:

“They still have him on strong pain killers,” his mom said as Steve carefully gave Eddie a once over with his eyes to make sure he was fine. “The doctor warned us he would probably be in and out for a while once he woke up.”

For some reason that was the moment it hit him. He’d spent three weeks sitting there watching Eddie barely clinging on, praying for some good news from the doctors and now he had it.

“He woke up,” he said, feeling ridiculous and stupid, but totally unable to stop the tears that came with those words.

[babydollmarauders]

no bc i literally want to start writing here on tumblr but then again i’m scared cuz like it’d something new in life for me and it’s js scary but like any advice?

omg i’m so excited for you! i know it can be scary, but i promise the hockey writing community on here is one of the nicest i’ve ever been apart of <3

as for the advice, my biggest piece of advice is to start writing for yourself first! if you have an idea? write it! take inspiration from songs and books and anything you come across in life that makes you think of a story and write it out! it sounds so stupid and you’re probably thinking “duh!” but it really does help.

i personally started my writing on here by taking inspiration from taylor swift songs and writing fics based on them and within days i had requests and such.

also, don’t think too much about readers and whatnot. trust me, you’ll get plenty of love on your fics! i’ve written quite a bit on here in my past few months and literally never had any bad feedback (even on my shittiest of stories).

i probably didn’t help much, but i hope i could ease your worries even in the slightest <3 i look forward to reading your fics, love! happy writing!

[brokenheartedbabe]

Dear D,

April 24, 2024

Dear D,

Since you won't respond to any of my messages, I've resorted to writing down yet another letter in my notes. First of all, I want you to know that for you to ghost me out of nowhere with no warning or anything is quite possibly the shittiest thing you could have done to me. You know I didn't deserve that. I've been nothing but kind to you. I've listened to all your problems and I've never once judged you or talked bad about you. I've been nothing but supportive about your plans for the future and you quitting vaping. I've been understanding about your situation with your ex and I've let you treat me like shit and made excuses for you because I knew you were having a hard time. So for you to turn around and toss me to the side and ghost me like I meant nothing to you just shows me what kind of person you truly are.

I'm 99% sure you got back with your ex again and honestly I don't know why I'm so surprised. A blind person probably could have seen this coming but I was so stupid and naive that I actually believed you when you said that you were done with her. I actually believed that you would see that you deserve better and that you would move on and maybe even hopefully realize that I could be everything you wanted, but I see now that that will never happen. I don't know what it is about her that keeps you running back over and over even though you know nothing has changed, but honestly I hope she's worth it and y'all work things out.

And I know I sound bitter and honestly I am because you used me. You never cared about me, you only kept me around because you knew how I felt about you and you knew I would keep letting you come back even after you did me dirty. You just wanted someone to sit there and listen to your problems and then let you hit afterwards.

Honestly, I'm more mad at myself than I am at you. All of my friends told me what you were doing, but I really wanted to believe that you were different. But you're not. I had this image of you in my head and sure, you weren't perfect, but I truly liked and accepted everything about you. But I never really knew the real you. I only knew the shit that you told me and clearly a lot of it was lies. Or who knows. Maybe you do honestly believe all the shit that you say, but your actions don't align with your words.

You're right, you do need to work on yourself. Because a good, stable person would never play with someone's feelings like this. A good person would never make an innocent girl cry in her room wondering what she did wrong or why she's not good enough. A good person would have the decency to explain to the girl he's been fucking for a month why he no longer wants to talk to her. A good person wouldn't pretend to care about someone just to toss them to the side at the first chance they get. So maybe you're not the good person that I thought you were.

And I meant it when I said I didn't want to talk to you anymore if you ghost me. You will never get the chance to treat me like this ever again because I deserve better. I am one of the kindest, sweetest, most genuine people I know and the love that I have is so pure that it's hard to come by. So for you to do this to me? Well, it's more of your loss than it is mine. I was willing to give you everything I had. I would have done anything to make you happy. And I hope one day you realize what a loss this is for you.

Honestly, yeah, I am petty and spiteful, but I want you to feel the hurt that you caused me and think about what you did to me for a long time. Wishful thinking though. You probably haven't thought about me at all since you unadded me. Because, again, you don't care about me. You care about what I can do for you. I should have believed you when you said you were selfish cause it's true.

And despite all of this, I know that I'd take you back again if you gave me a good enough excuse. You're pretty good with your words so you could probably talk yourself out of this if you tried. But I'm trying to stand on what I said. The hurt is raw right now so I'm not really thinking straight. I wish you would just talk to me. I don't even know where you are right now. If I had to guess I'd say you're with her but I don't like to assume things, even though most of the time I'm right.

I still don't understand how you could do this to me. I mean, you really made me believe that I meant something to you. I mean, we've known each other for a month. Did our time together honestly mean nothing? How can you confide in me the way you did and hold me the way you did and kiss me the way you did and still feel nothing? I don't understand. Nothing at all? It doesn't make sense to me. I guess I'm just not wired that way.

I'm still hoping that this is all some misunderstanding. Maybe you accidentally pressed the unadd button and are wondering why I haven't reached out all day? Yeah right. I know you saw my message request on Instagram. The only reason I didn't send one on tiktok too is because you said you'd block me if I ever found your page, and that's the only way I know you're still alive at this point.

I'm debating whether I should try and go to your job or your apartment. Would that be crazy? Yes. But would it be justified? I think so. I feel like you owe me answers, even though you might not think you do. You owe me D. You owe me the same consideration and respect that I would give to you if the tables were reversed. I would never do this to you, and I think you know that. So, again, how could you do this to me?

And now it's almost 4am and I've slept for approximately one hour. I can't fall asleep again, I've tried. All I can think about is you. All I keep wondering is why you're doing this. I've never pretended to know what you're thinking, but I really wish you would just tell me. Do I not deserve honesty? I feel like I do.

Everything in my room reminds me of you. I keep thinking about your shoes on the floor, your keys and phone and wallet on my desk, your body in my bed, your head laying on that pillow you hate. You're everywhere. You've been everywhere. Even in my living room and in my kitchen. Everywhere has a memory of you in it.

And then I think about how you never really let me in. Didn't let me come into your apartment. Didn't let me meet your dog. Didn't even talk about me to your family. You let your dad say I was trouble, even

though you know that's the farthest thing from the truth. The signs were all there. You didn't care about me, didn't want me to get too close. You gave me just enough to keep me around even though you always knew I wanted more. I saw the signs and ignored all of them. How stupid of me.

Even last week, I should have known something was wrong when you went all day that one day without talking to me. And you would have done the same the next day had I not reached out. And even after that we didn't actually talk. Just send pictures back and forth all day. That shit gets old quick. And when I told you I wanted to see you and you said you were too busy. No one is too busy for the people they care about. And apparently you're not too busy to go and see other people. So it's just me.

Not a day has gone by since I met you that I haven't thought of you. You're the only one I want. I don't even want to talk to anyone else. Loyalty. Isn't that what you said you wanted? But then again you also said you wanted someone who was willing to talk things out whenever there was a problem. And here I am. Sitting, waiting to talk. And where are you? I don't know.

I just keep coming back to the same question. Why are you doing this? I wonder how long it will take you to come back this time. A week again? A couple days? Well, I'll still be in the same spot. And I'll probably respond. Mostly out of curiosity. Probably out of hope. But I can't do this with you again. I think we're done for real this time. I can't keep getting played. I can't keep looking stupid. I can't keep crying. I just can't do this anymore.

I tried so hard to be what you wanted. I tried so hard to show you that you can trust me. I tried to show you that I had all the qualities you're looking for. I tried to be patient and wait for you. I just tried so hard. And look where that got me. Up at 4 am typing out an embarrassingly long letter that you'll probably never read.

And I know it's not me, it's you. There's nothing I could have done to make you want me the way I want you. No amount of listening or kisses or cuddles or sex will make a person fall for you. I know that. I've always known that. And yet I still tried all of it. I wish you were here right now. I just want to hear your voice. I want to look into your eyes. I want to hold your hand. I miss you so much. I just want to be close to you. Why don't you want me the way I want you?

[starrystar]

Alt:

20

Light gray background

Oddly enough, I don’t think I was ever scared I’d die.

SB: No, no, I’ll be fine. It’s just gonna be a really shitty few months.

Caption: For the first time in human history. People online offered me useful medical advice.

Quotation: The snail mucin moisturizer works on radiation burns. Ginger beer is your friend. Buy a bunch of really soft oversized men’s shirts. This is like having the world’s shittiest temp job. Take claritin when they give you the one shot.

21

Blue background

She was very right about the temp job.

I needed tests and more tests and even more tests before starting chemo

Spiky speech bubbles: MRI, C-T Scan, Labs, Bone Scan

Fortunately, they made all the appointments and just told me where to be.

SB: Otherwise my ADHD ass would still be navigating a phone tree.

22

Dark teal background like being underwater

Sound effects in bold take up the background: Clang clang clang clang clang whang whang whang bang bang clang clang clang bang

Caption: The MRI was…interesting. Since I had to lay facedown, it was like booking a massage and getting industrial music instead.

RN: You’re doing great, sweetie!

SB: What?! I can’t hear you!

23

Pink and fleshy background

The MRI showed that Bob had not metastasized. He was, for now, contained within the boob.

MD: It’s very good news!

SB: Oh thank God.

MD: Uh, it did show a cyst on your thyroid, though.

SB: …You’re shitting me.

MD: Thyroids get a lot of random lumps. We’ve scheduled an ultrasound.

Really? Really? Just…really?

24

Orange and red background like a tequila sunrise

SB: Is it even possible to get two completely unrelated cancers simultaneously?

MD: …yes. But I wouldn’t worry.

SB: You know, the last time I wasn’t worried about a lump…

Fortunately by then, the ten days were up

DR: Thank you for agreeing to a phone appointment. My daughter brought home pinkeye and…well…

SB: It’s fine! It’s fine!

MR: Oh God! No!

25

Pink and red background like pinkeye

Pinkeye aside, the oncologist was awesome. She laid out the schedule, the type of chemo, everything. I was getting the chemo known as the red devil. Yes, I would be nauseated. Yes, my hair would fall out. But on the bright side, my blood would become so toxic it could kill mosquitos. Also I might cry red tears.

MR: Oh, that’s metal as fuck.

SB: I know, right?!

26

Teal background like water

My husband would also have to wear a condom during sex once the chemo started.

SB: Wait, stop, hold the phone. Why?!

MD: That’s really a question to bring to the chemo education class.

SB: But what’s gonna happen to his jun-

MD: Chemo education class.

SB: …

MD: I bought one of your children’s books to read with my four-year-old daughter.

SB: I hope she enjoys it very much.

27

Lavender background

Before we could start anything though insurance had to approve it. That could take weeks.

SB: Oh. Joy.

My friends proved, yet again, that they were awesome.

SB: You wanna talk about it, great. You don’t want to talk about it, great.

SB: I think I want industry gossip and stupid memes today.

SB: Great.

My publisher sent me wine and told me the schedule could go hang.

28

Lime bubbly background

People I knew came out of the woodwork who had had cancer or were having it right this minute. They just weren’t telling anyone, a tactic that hadn’t occurred to me.

SB: You’re brave to talk about it in public!

SB: What, and keep all these tumor jokes to myself?

I wasn’t actually brave. Bravery is doing something that scares you.

Caption: Social media doesn’t scare me. Well, except for the healthy fear one should probably have at all times. The cancer scared me, but I live online. My pocket friends are part of how I navigate the world. Otherwise I’d just be shouting into the void. Not talking about it was a much scarier prospect. That’d be like looking into the void and not shouting.

End.

The Saga of Bob, Part III!

Part I

Part II

(Seriously, shout out to the UNC hospital system—once you’re in, it runs completely on rails.)

Friend of mine who was in the Navy falls asleep instantly in MRI machines because he says it’s like being back in his bunk in the bowels of the ship.

(Dr. Pinkeye has since made a full recovery.)

Part IV will post quite soon, but we’re getting through the backlog I hammered out in some kind of crazed fugue. Then it’ll be less drinking from the firehose, I promise.

You people transcribing this are heroes.

[apples-nle]

I remember when Twitter was cool (a eulogy to a website I used to love/hate)

In the next few weeks, I’m likely going to be trying my hand at various different social media sites, figuring out where my new posting home is going to be. My sister recommended Tumblr (which here is my first attempt), Instagram launches it’s much anticipated “Threads” today, a BlueSky code is heading my way very soon, and i’ve been posting nonsense in what is affectionately being called “the drilcord” (a discord server run by twitter icon Dril). All of these things are ostensibly lifeboats being launched from a sinking ship. The death of Twitter has been slower than anticipated, but the Titanic has officially cracked in half and Elon’s takeover seems to be nearly at its inevitable and predictable conclusion: Twitter will die.

My first time logging onto twitter was probably around 2011/2012. I can’t be sure because I’ve deactivated, been banned and started new accounts multiple times over the years. So this telling contains no hard historical data. I am only a single witness to the chaos. But it wasn’t always chaos. I started using the website as a sort of diary... or maybe more accurately an online “whiteboard” where I would post fleeting ideas I could use in my weekly movie reviews that I posted for a small website at the time. I had little intent of really gaining followers or making connections, but the early algorithm tended to push many of us with similar interests together. Most of the conversations would be playful ribbing regarding what movies we loved/hated. Talking about our movie-going experiences that week, posting small capsule reviews of the newest blockbuster. All that sort of junk. I think by the end of 2012 I had something like 150 followers. But I considered a significant chunk of them to be “friends” on some level.

Most of these people would form the bedrock of what came to be known as “Film Twitter”. This experience probably sounds familiar to anyone who had been using twitter at the time. “Book Twitter”, “Weird Twitter”, “Sports Twitter” and many other circles around the website would form similarly. All neatly compacted in their own little echo chamber that didn’t really have much effect on the outside world. And it was fun. These were the early years. Over time, these echo chambers would come into clash with one another and spirited debates would become a dominant event on the website. Often these arguments would spiral in to toxic “i’m right/you’re wrong” that instilled a lot of anger in myself and others. But it also produced an intense high of calling someone a “fartknocker” and watching them “slowly shrink into a corncob”. It also, more importantly started to form a lot of the modern vernacular that would come to define what was cool/not cool on the site. As these different “twitters” converged, one of them really reigned supreme above all: Weird Twitter. I can’t definitively say this was Twitter at its best, but I can say this is when Twitter was at its most original and innovative. The shitposting was incredible. The brain rot had set in and everyone began to post nonsense onto the timeline with little regard for decency or thought. Sarcasm and insincerity ruled the land. It was glorious. And hilarious. The best days were when the Villain of the Week would reveal themselves, with a tweet so dubious, and more importantly, intensely sincere in its stupidity, that the entire site would dogpile on them with such ferocity that it would send people running and screaming from the platform.  Twitter became a mean place and bullying became the norm. Even to this day, this is the one constant that remained among the changing ecosystem over the years. It result in some spectacular displays of roasting. My personal favourite of this was when polls were still a novel tool on the platform. A grandiose “shittiest twitter account of all time” bracket in the style of March Madness took place yearly. In 2016, some of the highest ranking personalities came in the form of Arthur Chu and Mike Cernovich (remember him?). But against all odds #12 ranked Kurt Eichenwald made a cinderella run after posting some truly terrible political opinions around the same time as he posted a picture outing himself as a Hentai enjoyer. This was not really a crime in it of itself, but his attempts to deflect it as  he “was showing my kids/wife that this is a real thing” (paraphrasing) made him look spectacularly dumb. He ended winning that year. God that was so funny. Around this time of course though, one posting personality had emerged that would change the world online and offline: Donald Trump. I won’t recount much of the 45th President’s time in office or his politics. We all know how that went. His role on twitter though was much more complicated. One thing that you need to understand though is that Donald was one of the best shitposters of all time. He was so funny. I’m sorry if this angers you, but all the way back in 2012, all the way up to his eventual twitter ban following the January 6th insurrection, he was glorious. He was a lighting rod for those dogpiling sessions referenced above. But Donald relished in being the villain, and as a result his villainy was suddenly become to be appreciated, because at the end of the day Twitter Is A Mean Place. And those who were among the top tier of shitposting couldn’t help but appreciate the unabashed way he did not give a shit. Game recognized Game. His ascendency to the White House came with a lot of baggage and made a lot of the humor come with an asterisk. It was still very funny, but it was also incredibly terrifying. And the dogpiling became something closer to a crusade in an effort to halt his stampede to the highest power in the Western World. This had the effect of unifying twitter under one large umbrella. It didn’t quite change the website from all the differing chambers into one amorphous blob, but it came close. Politics was the order of the day and nearly everything on the site became an extension of Donald Trump’s candidacy and Presidency. This fixation on politics more and more was already sort of happening way back in 2014 when GamerGate had kicked off, but Trump was the straw that broke the camels back. His contribution is really what turned twitter into what it is today. The echo chambers did inherently still exist, but they overlapped much more frequently now. And ultimately this is also where the decline started. See the thing about politics is that it’s impossible to not be sincere. Because things aren’t really trivial when it comes to all these hot button issues. But because Twitter thrived on chaos and controversy, the loudest and most extreme voices often ended up getting pushed by the algorithm. And unfortunately that often meant suddenly things didn’t seem so trivial anymore. It stopped being fun. But getting the dopamine from those likes and retweets so was intoxicating it didn’t matter. The endless scrolling provided us with spectacular displays of idiocy and god awful posts that we couldn’t look away. We were already addicted. It was impossible to log off.

There is little positive to say about the 7 years since then. Obviously some comedy still had come about, and even twitter’s funniest arcs occurred during this era when Trump caught Covid as well as Jan 6th. But those things were the result of our crumbling society. The site just happened to be there to witness the fall of Rome. More importantly the anger and animosity which was once funny and novel started to become exhausting. Things got pretty real when Nazis and Communists started having more of a voice on the site (not that i’m equating the two ideologies; Fuck Fascists). Radicalization happened at a much larger degree. During this time I deactivated my account twice just to get away from it, because Doomscrolling had become so pervasive it was damaging my mental health. I eventually returned, but I made sure to keep my toe out of the politics pool. I focused more on engaging with experimental artists and tweeting about hockey/football. Things started to calm down after Trump left office but the scars of his time in office remained. It was just a slightly more muted version of this political era. The shitposting would never really return to it’s golden days. No one wanted to say it, but the website wasn’t the same. It was on the decline, and the algorithm had changed so much to reflect the Trump years that came before, that it damaged the once novel user experience. Eventually Elon Musk would step in. He was a big fan of the platform, but he was also one of the worst posters of all time. It didn’t matter much though as he amassed a pretty big following resulting from all his media attention surrounding his business ventures. The news would often portray him as the next Thomas Edison (they were right, but not for the reasons they intended) and many people sincerely looked at him as a genius of the modern era.  That obviously disappeared with time but for some reason Musk was as brain rotted as the rest of us and considered himself an elite poster, likely using his engagement metrics as validation. Unfortunately he’s a stupid billionaire and decided to buy the aging website out of some misplaced desire to enshrine himself as perhaps a holy figure among the masses. It didn’t work. All it ensured was that the slow decline of the site would speed up dramatically. In the era of TikTok, Twitter has begun to show its age. 

It’s probably for the best that twitter ends this way. Instead of quality fading into obscurity, blowing itself up in embarrassing tech blunders run by an incompetent poster is probably the funniest way for the site to die. Everyone jumping ship looking for a new home that fits their preferred communities and posting styles. I’m not sure which one I’m going to land in, but I’ll bounce around until one of them really sticks with me. Maybe it’s tumblr? Maybe Threads? Or maybe I’ll just go back to the Something Awful forums (which is inexplicably still running in 2023).  I don’t know what the point of this eulogy/essay is. I don’t think there’s much of a lesson here. But Twitter was a big part of my life, it outlasted an entire 8 year relationship, multiple jobs, my graduate and post graduate education life, 5 different apartments and numerous friends that have come in and out of my life, I’m going to miss it. And I can’t wait for it to die. P.S. Can anyone teach me how to use this website?

[hederasgarden]

Okay, obligatory ask for a fic with Rooster x Reader x Hangman.

I'm normally not a sucker for "competition"-type fics, but oh my god, these two would constantly be sizing each other up or one upping the other. Like Hangman gets you flowers one day and smirks over at Rooster, but the next day, Rooster gets a bigger bouquet and winks at Hangman as you go in for a hug. Just like, a constant subtle dick-measuring competition. And like, they try to keep it subtle, but Reader knows this is happening and finally says something after one of them goes too far, and the boys placate Reader with a steamy NSFW session that's all about "teamwork" (if you know what I mean 😏).

Like, tell me that's not perfect????

Hello new best friend! I like how your brain works. 

I started writing this as a headcanon, but it got away from me. It’s now over 2.5K and going strong. It will probably take me a while to finish. I don’t want to leave your ask hanging so I hope you like the preview below.

I did switch things up a little. The reader runs Admiral Simpson’s office and due to a misunderstanding thinks Rooster and Hangman aren’t actually into her and are instead playing a game at her expense.

Let me know if this is something people want to read more of!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin Word Count: 1K Rating: Mature (There is some cursing and sexually suggestive language).

You’ve heard rumors about pilots running games on unsuspecting women, competing for bragging rights like being the first to sleep with a girl or get her number. You never expected to be the subject of one, wrongly assuming no one was stupid enough to mess with the woman who managed the admiral's office. Except apparently for these two idiots. At first you’re too mad and embarrassed to address the issue, sitting with the revelation for a few days until a life-size stuffed bear arrives from Rooster. That’s when you know you need to do something and do it fast. The last thing you want is for your boss to catch wind of this. 

You send Rooster and Hangman a meeting invite from the admiral when you know your boss will be off base. Both men show up with Starbucks in hand for you and although it physically pains you to dump out good coffee, you relish the look on their faces when you drop the cups in the trash can. 

“This stops today,” you tell them, arms folded over your chest. “Whatever game you’re playing, I want no part of it. No more gifts or flowers.”

Both men exchange a look. 

"It's not a game ma'am," Hangman says. 

Your eyes narrow and you purse your lips. “Then what the hell are you doing?”

“Wooing you,” Rooster offers rubbing the back of his neck, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“Wooing me?” You repeat back, allowing them to hear how dumb they sound.

“We are interested in you,” Hangman adds, surprisingly earnest. 

“Sure. You both want to date me,” you say sarcastically. To their credit when you stand up they both take a step back immediately. “Here is what’s going to happen. I will oh so kindly not tell Admiral Simpson that his two best pilots are behaving like a bunch of 12-year-olds with nothing better to do than play mean games and you’re going to leave me alone.”

“Ma’am, it’s not–” Rooster starts, looking almost a little panicked. You cut him off with a raised hand. He glances at Hangman who watches you with a blank expression but then you see a muscle in his cheek jump.

"Moving forward I am the ark of the covenant to you. You do not look at me or touch me. If you do, I will make sure the admiral sends you off to the shittiest carrier in the pacific. Also if I hear that you’re playing this little game with someone else, the aforementioned threat will become a reality. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” they respond in unison. 

Rooster almost looks a little hurt. Hangman’s jaw is set and you catch him shooting his friend an angry look. They both linger for a moment after you sit back down at your desk, only leaving once it’s clear you have nothing more to say.

✥

For three days you don’t hear a peep out of either pilot. Then the admiral calls for a joint meeting that involves both of them. Hangman doesn’t greet you but you feel his eyes on you during the meeting. He’s got a toothpick in his mouth, working it hard enough it actually snaps in half while he’s staring you down. Rooster seems a little more cowed, giving you a quiet ma’am as he passes your desk. He looks forlorn enough that the admiral asks if someone shot his dog. 

It makes you feel a little bad about the dressing down you gave him. At least until the next day when you find him and Hangman waiting for you in the parking lot. Hangman’s leaning against your car looking completely unbothered, wearing a pair of aviators with his arms folded across his broad chest. Rooster’s standing at what you assume is his lax version of parade rest. When he spots you approaching he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“We come in peace. Just give us one minute and if you don’t like what we have to say we’ll go.”

You press tonight against your cheek. They were persistent, you’d give them that. “You have 30 seconds.” 

“To be blunt…we fucked up ma’am,” Rooster starts.

“You fucked up,” Hangman says pointedly. “I told you this wasn’t going to work from the start.”

“Well, you didn’t have any bright ideas at the time, did you hot shot?” Rooster fires back.

You clear your throat, tapping your wrist. Both men return their attention to you.

“Let me handle this,” Hangman says, pushing Rooster back and stepping into your space. He flicks his glasses down far enough to look at you over them, his green eyes uncharacteristically serious. “We are interested in you. It wasn’t a competition. Well, not a mean one but we got a little carried away with it.”

“You expect me to pick one of you to…what? Date? Sleep with?”

“Either, both if you like,” Hangman tells you confidently enough that you're a little impressed by how stupidly self assured he is.

“But then we got to thinking, maybe you don’t have to choose,” Rooster adds, clapping Hangman on the shoulder. “A two for one deal if you will.” He smiles at you, that trademark charm on display. 

You say nothing for several seconds, blinking rapidly. Whatever you were expecting from them, this wasn’t it. They’re both watching you but your expression is frozen. They couldn’t possibly be serious. 

“I think we broke her,” Rooster whispers, the corner of his mouth turned up under his mustache.  

“Nah, she’s imagining us all together,” Hangman says, winking at you. 

You actually weren’t until he suggested it but now you can feel heat creeping into your cheeks. That would certainly be a sight. All those tan muscles on display...the two of them working together for your pleasure. You just know Hangman would be the type to run his mouth during sex and something tells you Rooster is eager to please. 

“Think on it,” Hangman suggests, leaning in close enough that his breath tickles your ear as he moves past you. “If you’re interested we’ll be at the Rusty Monk tomorrow at 7.”

[bisexualcacti]

Summary: your life in Hawkins has been pretty normal so far, but things get a little complicated when one of your friends, Chrissy Cunningham, is found dead (if by little you mean literally entering another dimension to save the town from a murderous monster with freaky powers)

Pairings: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2540

A/N: Hey!!! This is my first time writing a fic and also, English is not my first language, so apologies for any sort of grammatical mistakes or if anything sounds weird. I finished s4 and had the urge to write something for these two dorks so I hope you guys like it. The fic will probably go through the span of the season so the last chapters will probably come out by the time s4 is over. Happy pride month!!!

Edit: if someone would like to be added to a taglist for the next part, dm me ;)

PART 1 - THE LAND OF MAKE BELIEVE

It’s funny when you think about how a group of people can come together just to get the worst out of everyone. Steve Harrington, Tommy H., Carol Perkins, Nancy Wheeler, and you. “Friends” you’d call yourselves. As if.

Out of the bunch, you only ever really knew Nancy and Steve, mostly since you never felt like they belonged there with you, and you meant that in the most flattering way. Tommy H. was an asshole, simple as that, and Carol was basically a trash can with a mouth, just full of garbage. Steve was more of a special case. You didn’t like him, but you knew that wasn’t really his fault. It’s just that looking at him felt like looking at you, and every time you saw him you saw the same fucking image that haunted you daily when you’d wake up and look at yourself in the mirror. A loser who’s so fucking scared of being cast out that she’d rather be a miserable idiot with no opinions or thoughts of her own than to be herself.

Most likely ‘cause who you were scared the shit out of you.

Lastly, there was Nancy. Sweet, smart, good ol’ Nancy Wheeler. She wasn’t like you. You could tell from a mile away that she had a soul, unlike the bunch of you. Maybe that’s why you treated her the shittiest, hoping that at some point she’d have enough of your vicious digs against her and would tell you all to go fuck yourselves. Turns out, you didn’t even need to try that hard. The moment she left Steve for Jonathan everything started to crumble. It was soon after that that Steve got tired of Tommy’s shitty attitude and sent you all packing too, which you admit made you a bit jealous, but also happy for him if you were being quite honest.

Your happiness didn’t last though, since as soon as he left came Billy. He would flirt with you relentlessly, but you would shut it down every time. It didn’t discourage him, though. Quite the opposite if you were being honest, as it just made him try harder. Only after the mall fire did he finally stop. Since he was, y’know, dead. That year, Tommy and Carol graduated and that marked the definitive end to your little gang, but you wouldn’t let yourself be a nobody after all the hard work you put in to fit.

So, you made new friends, joined the Hawkins High cheerleading squad and started to hang out with the basketball team. Chrissy Cunningham became your new bestie, and you were once again at the top of Hawkins High food chain, officially untouchable.

None of them compared to her though.

Not thinking about her was hard. Being honest with yourself, there hasn’t been a day you haven’t thought about her since you both went separate ways. Robin had that effect on people. It was especially hard now, though, since you saw her every single fucking time the team had a game. Her and that stupid little red head she kept smiling to.

The both of you used to be thick as thieves once, in middle school, when you were still a huge fucking nerd and Robin was the outcast that completed your little duo. But then, by the end of middle school, you started to feel... different. Your feelings towards Robin started to change in ways that shouldn’t be possible, ways that weren’t natural. Girls didn’t feel this way about other girls. There was something wrong with you, you... you were broken. So, you freaked out, shut yourself off to her, and the moment the both of you started high school, you became a totally different person.

Yet, Robin had another version of the story.

“Hey,” someone waved their hand across your face. “earth to Y/N. What are you staring at?” Chrissy followed your gaze towards Robin, who made awkward conversation with Vickie Whatever-the-fuck-her-name-is, and you turned to look at her, realizing you were staring.

Clearing your throat, you responded. “Oh, um, it’s nothing.”

Now, one thing you knew is, Chrissy Cunningham, contrary to popular belief, isn’t stupid, so the moment she looked at you with a cocked brow you knew you were about to be called out unless you redirected the conversation right at that moment.

“So, um, are you coming to the party after the game?”

Apparently, that put her on edge, since she tensed beside you and avoided your gaze. “No, I–um, have to go home, y’know, get changed first,”

You thought about asking, but it truly was none of your business, lest it be she start questioning you about why the hell you were looking at Robin.

“God, I sure do hope they win something for once. It gets kinda embarrassing always cheering for the losing team,” you sigh rubbing your neck. 

Chrissy laughs in that all too charming way that reminds you of why half the basketball team trip over themselves to even get a word in with her. Big shiny smile and a cute tiny nose all scrunched up. Man, if you weren’t so hopelessly in love with someone else you’re sure you would’ve gotten a thing for her right away. “Don’t be mean, they’re… trying. I think.”

Nudging her elbow and wagling your brows, you reply, “You just say that ‘cause your loverboy is there,” a smirk on your lips.

The intention was to make her laugh, but at the mention of Jason, all she seemed to do was tense, a forced chuckle falling from her mouth. Once again you got the urge to ask, to see if she was okay. You noticed something seemed amiss a few weeks ago, but decided to brush it off. Now you’re kinda wondering if you should say something, but even if you did, you doubt Chrissy would actually tell you anything.

This was the nature of your relationship with her. To everyone else, you were best friends. You’d have sleepovers, go shopping together, gossip about guys, and whatever else girlfriends would do, but in reality, you probably knew about Chrissy just as much as everyone else did. There was no place between you for deep conversations or actual intimate talks. Not that anyone knew though. That was you, your life a carefully arranged act.

The game was thrilling, or that’s what you would say if you actually cared about sports, although you do have to admit it was more exciting than the previous one, with freshman Lucas Sinclair scoring and bringing the victory to the team, not a single second left to spare. The moment the game was over, you walked as quickly as possible to where you agreed to meet your supplier, but to no one’s surprise, he was late, so there you stood in a deserted hallway waiting for him to show up.

Man, Hawkings High was kinda creepy when there was no one around.

A few minutes later, you heard your supplier's annoying voice announce his presence.

“Aww, if it isn’t my favorite prissy princess,” Eddie Munson greeted teasingly, a big smile on his face as he saw you.

“Yeah, yeah, you got my stuff?”

“I missed you too, honey,” he said sarcastically. You raised your eyebrow and stuck your hand out, and at seeing your deadpan expression, he rolled his eyes and put his arms up. “Alright, alright. Yeah, I got your weed. Gee, I might get diabetes if you keep being this sweet,” he muttered.

Now, maybe calling him just your supplier was kinda mean. Against your better judgment, you couldn’t help but like the weirdo. You don’t really know how he went from being your dealer to your… friend, but you couldn’t be more glad it happened. You and him started to hang out occasionally since you lived in the same trailer park, and by the time you realized, occasionally turned into once a month, then once a week, then twice a week, to the point you’d always hang out if he wasn’t busy with his band or his D&D club. Hell, you would even go to his concerts sometimes, and help him plan his campaigns. Of course, you would never be publicly seen hanging out, and less of all dream of actually admitting that you care about him, but he– the way he was so unapologetically himself and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought… you admired it. It reminded you of her.

Everything seems to remind you of her nowadays.

“So, how did the campaign end?”

As he looks for your weed in his little metal box, his brown eyes seem to light up. “Ah, so you do care!”

His enthusiasm was adorable, but you tried to play off your interest anyway. “Pfft, you wish. I’m just interested in what you did with the amazing world I built,”

The look he gives you is skeptical as he hands you your weed. “Sure,” he draws out, “As much as I’d love to tell you, my fair maiden, I gotta meet another client so I’m in a bit of a rush,”

“Someone’s busy,” you remark handing him his money.

“All in the day of a devil’s work,” he says, arms open theatrically as he walks away from you. Before turning around completely, he shouts. “Ey, if you get shit-faced tonight save some for me, alright angel?”

“First of all, I won’t. Second of all, don’t call me angel if you want to keep your dick, Munson,” you shouted after him with a small smile on your face. He laughed and once again, you were alone.

Shaking your head, an amused chuckle left your lips. He acted all tough but at the end of the day he was just a nerd. A cute nerd, even, if you said so yourself. You were about to exit the building when a strong pain in your head made you dizzy, and you had to lean against the lockers in order not to lose your balance. Feeling a warm liquid drip down your nose, you lifted your hand up only to find blood

“Hey, you alright there?”

Fuck. Oh fuck. Shit. You knew that fucking voice, of course you knew that fucking voice, you’ve been hearing it in your dreams since middle school, fuck! Having a mild crisis, you questioned what to do, but before you could decide on anything she spoke again.

“Can you, like, speak up, please? Unless you’re like mute, in which case like I totally understand but if you aren’t um, like, it’d be appreciated. You don’t have to, but you don’t seem okay. Although if you’re not okay and want to be alone I can totally leave you alone y’know, I hate it when people don’t understand that, but also if something is wrong you can tell me, they say it’s bad to bottle things up and–”

You feel a fond smile slowly creeping up to your lips and can’t help but snort. “You talk a lot,” more than you remember.

As you turn to look at Robin you can immediately see the change in demeanor. She’s still in her band uniform, which makes her look a bit ridiculous, but you gotta admit she makes it work all the same. “Oh, it’s you,” the way her tone changes slices through your heart like a knife, but fuck if you don’t deserve it. She’s annoyed, you can tell, arms crossed, dismissive look; you think she’s about to leave until she gets a good look at your face and her eyes seem to zero in on your nose, eyebrows furrowed.

“Is that blood? Are you okay? What happened?” she leaned forward, as if to move towards you, but thought better of it and stayed in her place, although the look of concern remained.

“Yeah, just a nosebleed, don’t worry. Probably from all the spinning around,” an awkward laugh escaped you and you rubbed your neck, wondering how you’d get out of this situation.

Robin wrung her hands together, conflicted, as if she wanted to question you more, but refrained herself from it. “Sure, just… be careful,”

Placing her hands in her pockets, she turned around to leave but before you could stop your stupid mouth, the words had already escaped you. “You still care?”

That stopped her in her tracks and when your eyes connected again you could see a thousand emotions crossing them at lightning speed. Confusion, surprise, hurt, disbelief, before finally settling in anger. Fuck, that was a mistake.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t the one who willingly stopped hanging out with you,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s–it’s not like that. I–”

“Yeah, well, you never bothered to explain anyway, did you? Just, ditched the loser and got a fresh new batch of cool friends,”

“Robin, I–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Patrick McKinney interrupted your conversation, jogging down the hall to where you were, smiling at having found you. As he went to put his arm around your shoulders, he finally seemed to catch on to the palpable tesion in the air, and looked between you and Robin confused.

Shit, you forgot. To prevent people from getting suspicious, you accepted a date with Patrick, one of the jocks from the basketball team. Morally, you know what you did was wrong, but out of the bunch, Patrick seemed sweet, and you know that he wasn’t as pushy as some of the others. He was the perfect candidate, and he liked you, you just, didn’t quite like him, as more than a friend at least.

“I’ve looking for you everywhere, you ready to go?” he sounded unsure, words trailing off and eyes drifting from Robin to you.

You stood there troubled, not knowing what to do. In truth, you wanted to explain the situation to Robin but really, what was there to explain? You weren’t about to say ‘Hey, Robin! So glad to see you. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, but I just had the hugest crush on you, y’know. Been in love since forever and couldn’t stand having to be with you without being able to kiss you or without imploding every single time you got close to me, and I would rather die than have to be there for when you got a boyfriend and came to talk to me about how much you loved him and how cute he was. But I’m cool now so everything’s okay, let’s be friends again! wanna have a sleepover?’.

As you pondered on what to do, Robin decided for you and sighed irritated. “Have fun with your lil’ boyfriend,” she muttered as she left, head downcast.

“You know her?” he questioned.

“Just– just an old friend. Let’s go,” ´Patrick looked hesitant, curious to know more, but he knew you, and the fact that you even gave him a chance at all was too big of an opportunity to fuck it up by being nosy, so he just smiled, trying to diffuse the tension by making idle chatter with you about the game.

Not that you really listened though, watching Robin leave from over your shoulder as you exited the school, headed to the party, and on your way out you could’ve sworn that you heard a clock ticking.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Interlude I | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Interlude II

Robin’s route: Part 9 | Part 10

Eddie’s route: Part 9 | Part 10

[ultramaga]

“ Do you think writers rule the world? “ I do think you are stupid for saying that I do. Seriously, you might as well start screaming about penguins. So let’s pretend a child asked that innocently. They genuinely do not know. No. I think writers rule what they write - outside communist countries. They don’t have to write garbage. They could choose to write good material, or, if they can’t write well, start working elsewhere, like everyone else has to do. If you are saying that the only way to get a gig in Hollywood is to write tripe, that’s not even true. 

Someone had to write this. 

This. Hell, I grant you Season 3 of Picard. 

So that’s on one side. Everything else for Star Trek is garbage. Star Trek used to be written by professional science fiction authors. I don’t know who has been writing it but I assume lead paint chips were used as snacks.

Almost all Star Wars has been garbage. 

With brief exceptions.

The choice was there. Writers could walk away, do other gigs, but they don’t. They write garbage, then they go onto twitter, and screech IF YOU WON’T EAT OUR GARBAGE, THAT MAKES YOU A NAZI. If they kept their damn fool mouths shut I might be persuaded that Kathleen Kennedy had their families hostage, but no, they use the same anti-customer rhetoric that came out of the mouths of the comic book writers who crashed the western comic book industry. “ also, I’m a Dane “ So you have no argument, you knew you had no argument, but still you just needed to argue because ....

I’m guessing you are a Leftist, and like the rest of the pack, you heard a sound in the distance and had to sing along as well, even if it is a police siren and it’s 3am in the morning.

“ A24 actually agreed to the terms of both the actor and writer strike “ Capitalism wins again! They have the right to offer better terms and the writers and actors have the right to compete for better jobs. THEY ALWAYS DID. Nobody held a gun to their heads and forced them to work in Hollywood. Again, outside of communist countries, that doesn’t happen. Capitalism means you can demand a million dollars a second for garbage, and the employer can agree or tell you to take a hike. That’s how it works. Now because they are paying a union, that means the shittiest worker gets the best pay, and there’s no incentive for excellence. Why bother? I think this company is very stupid to pay the buggy whip makers who have a track record of spending their days abusing customers, but it is their choice. However. Every other company in the world doesn’t work that way.  A24 is going to have to compete with companies that will be using automation. You can steer how that happens, but you can’t stop it, any more than striking stopped the automation of the car industry. Fast food workers are going down without even a struggle. That’s reality for you. So if A24 wants to hire untalented people and use outdated methods, so be it. They are probably going to do a 180 in a few years, or go under.  Change is coming.  Adapt or die. https://hackaday.com/2020/08/12/the-ever-accelerating-automation-of-fast-food/

[animeyanderelover]

Finally was able to catch your request box open!

May I request Sebastian with either prompt 9 or 25? Thank you very much and hope you have a happy holiday!

Here we go!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, sick s/o, abduction

Prompt 25: “This might sound weird but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.”

Long fingers were gently smoothing out the knots in your tousled hair, skilled to disentangle them without hurting you even once in the process. In any other situation you'd have refused such an intimate act of affection from his side but fortuna had clearly turned her head away from you. You had come down with what could only be described as the shittiest cold you've ever had in your life at the worst timing in your life. Your body was tired and weak, your muscles were aching and you had a persistent cough.

A headache had been tormenting you for a while now, a feeling as if someone was hitting you harshly against your skull. Somehow the pain seemed to lessen with his fingers running through your hair, allowing you to relax just a little bit. You weren't giving in to him but you'd be a fool to neglect his treatment as of now when getting out of the bed to the toilet felt like you were putting a huge strain on your body. The sooner you could be fit again, the sooner you could stop giving him the pleasure of dependence.

Dehydration and starvation would have put you out of your misery days ago if it wouldn't have been for the demon coaxing everything down your aching throat. Your appetite had decreased as well as your consum of liquid since it was a pain to swallow something and dwindled down the enjoyment of eating and drinking. To your own pity you realized that you probably wouldn't have taken good care of yourself if Sebastian wouldn't have been. He fed you soup and coaxed you into drinking the sometimes bitter herbal tea, forced the very unpleasant medicine down your throat and straightforward just coddled you.

Somehow he had even grown a bit clingier and you assumed it was because of the stupid mate thing that led to his need to be constantly near you. You accepted most of it though you drew the line when he suggested to take a bath, unwilling to let it escalate that far.

"Just endure it for a bit longer..." you thought to yourself silently, allowing your muscles to relax and sink further into the mattress as you were lulled into a slumber. Somehow his presence was surprisingly more comforting during a time of sickness from your side and maybe it was because you knew deep down that he was capable of nursing you properly back to health and attending to your needs.

Besides a small and annoyed grumble from your side when you felt him shifting closer to you on the bed, your back feeling the outline of his body pressing gently against you, you hadn't the energy to complain more. Not with that hoarse voice of yours and your cough. There was this weak flinch of your body when you felt his hands moving down but you fell back weakly when he started massaging the stiffness out of your shoulders and neck.

You were partly embarrassed by how putty you were right now but convinced yourself that you were just selfishly using him to get better soon to fight back once again. You were only human after all, it was fine for you to be weak once in a while. He was a demon.

There was a satisfied hum slipping from his lips when he took your relaxed form in, drifting in and out of slumber at this point.

"You should sleep a bit, dear. You need all the rest you can get." he hummed softly, adoring how needy you had gotten ever since you had fallen ill. Normally you were feisty and stubborn but now you relied on him and didn't rebel against him. Even if he didn't wish for his mate to be sick, he couldn't deny that he would miss this more needy and submissive side of yours a bit as soon as you were healthy again. You were so sweet right now, willingly leaning closer to him since something about his demon side helped you with the chills in your body and the pain stretching from your head to your toes. Even his voice right now was rather pleasant, inviting you to completely pass out from your misery.

You barely registered his little confession as sleep was shutting your system down.

"This might sound weird but I like it when you're sick because then you let me take care of you."

Your reply was uttered out meekly and maybe even unconsciously before you sank down into a silent darkness.

"Just for a little bit..."

[no-droids]

Out of a Trillion

gif credit: @bestintheparsec​

Part Fifteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.6K

Warnings: uhhhh so there is a bit of SMUT in this one, not too much and I imagine if you’ve made it this far then that won’t be too big of a deal LMFAOOO uh some ANGST and my attempt at HURT/COMFORT and also violence/blood/injury description, so look out for that!

A/N: I started writing this before the season finale aired and I know we all want a bit of goodness and softness after it, but hopefully this will be okay!  I’ll start working on the next part tonight

***

Everything changes and yet somehow nothing does.  

From that point on, it’s like… like you’re both just suspended in this perpetual state of wondering, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  You know he said it’s up to you, but what the fuck?  Look whenever you want?  That’s way too much fucking pressure, he’s out of his mind.  You’re not equipped to handle that, who does he think you are?  Someone that can just… decide things?

And it’s not like you’re afraid of the commitment, or that you don’t want to look.  You do, but every single time a moment comes, it just never… feels right.  You don’t know what you’re waiting for, what feeling or meaning you’re expecting to magically present itself to you, but you can’t shake the idea that there should be more to it than just randomly deciding to open your eyes at some point, shouldn’t there?  Din said there was no ceremony, nothing fancy, and he gave you permission to look because he said he’s not allowed to ask outright, whatever that means.  It’s a standing offer because you guess he isn’t allowed to prompt it for some reason, but unfortunately, that leaves you in just about the shittiest position possible.  Now everything falls to you—initiation, execution, and consequence—and Maker knows you’ve never been that great making decisions under pressure.

But you do want to look.  Sort of.

Sort of.  Because… well, this probably won’t make that much sense, but you’re afraid.  Mostly for him.  What if he’s making a mistake?  It sounds stupid, but you’re afraid of what this means for him, the sheer perpetuity of this decision he’s now expecting you to make for the both of you.  This isn’t your creed, not yet, and you feel like there’s still so much to learn.  Not only about the Mandalorians and his culture, but about him.  To know is to love, and so you’ve taken to asking any nonsensical question you can think of whenever he’s around.  Though you weren’t expecting it at first, you’ve learned that he’ll always give you some sort of an answer.  Some of the highlights include:

“How old are you?”  (“I don’t know.  Probably mid-forties, but there’s no way to tell anymore.”)

“You don’t know your birthday?”  (No, I… think it was in the winter.”)

“What’s your last name?”  (“Djarin.”)

“Do you have any freckles?  Or moles, or birthmarks?”  (“No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”)

“Do you cut your own hair?”  (“Yes, but it’s been awhile.”)

“Do you have dimples?”  (“I don’t smile in mirrors.”)

“Are your earlobes attached or detached?”  (“What kind of question is that?”)

And so forth.

He also gives you so many fucking opportunities to look.  One right after the other.  You used to think Din was incredibly trusting with how often and voluntarily he decided to take his helmet off around you—he didn’t wait a single day once he first felt your hands on his skin to take it off in your presence.  You remember being blown away by his unexpected willingness to part with it after hearing so many tales of the Mandalorians from Kuill; stunned by the ever-present ability to just open your eyes at any moment and that’s all it would ever take.  One simple movement—life-altering, and so easy.

Now you find it nearly impossible, muscle memory just won’t allow it to happen naturally.  And yet somehow, avoiding it is like stepping around land mines.  He doesn’t trick you—he doesn’t set it up, he doesn’t surprise you or anything, but he’s… less careful.  When the kid is awake, Din acts normal—he walks around fully armored, he goes on hunts and returns a few days later with a quarry, teaches you more self-defense techniques in the cleared out hull while the kid watches and giggles at your pain from the safety of his floating crib.  But when the baby goes to sleep, he’s taken to lounging with the helmet off.  He only used to remove it to eat, sleep, or… do other things with you, but he never used to take it off just… because.  Now he does.  Now he’s less careful about darkness, less strict about how much light he allows to touch him.

Now he shares every single meal he can with you, sitting just off to the side so you’ll never see him on accident but providing the free exercise thereof should you ever decide to seek it out purposefully.  Now he interrupts you in the middle of your complaining about the bruises on your knuckles just to lift the rim of his helmet the slightest bit, lean down and give you a quick kiss, and then lower it back into position again before you can even catch a glimpse of the lips you only recognize by touch.  Now he keeps the light on when he goes to take a shower, he leaves the door cracked.

It’s starting to give you heart palpitations, you swear.  At one point, he lets you to see the entire back of his head and it nearly launches you into a fucking crisis.

It’s the middle of the night and he just got up from bed to use the restroom.  He’s quiet enough not to wake you on the way over, but then across the hull and with his back to you, Din flicks the light on in the small bathroom without closing the door.  Immediately rousing you after being so accustomed to the pitch blackness, you lift your head from the warmth of your shared pillow just enough to blearily make out the sight of him leaning a hand up against the wall and dropping his head down, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s actually him.

Soft, dark brown locks ending at his collar but somehow looking longer than you ever imagined when you’ve run your fingers through them.  Cascading in shaggy, natural curls—tall, broad shouldered and trim waisted, naked as the day he was born.  Your heart starts to squeeze in your chest and it just never stops, and for the second time in your life, you feel like he woke you up in the middle of the night just to show you one of the most beautiful things the universe ever decided to hide.  There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have ever seen a sight that would compare?  He’s just a man, you don’t think a single person would bat an eye.  But to you, he’s… his own monument.  Constructed in honor of everything dazzling that happens to lie just underneath something else.  A breathtaking view, even from this angle, that could only ever mean something to you.

Would you ever be able to know him?  No, that’s not phrased right.  What you mean is that… over the course of all your time together, you remember thinking that if he ever took his helmet off, he could walk right by you and you’d never be able to tell the difference.  He could be anybody.  There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have the same features?  Brown hair, brown eyes, sunkissed skin that only one person is allowed to kiss, not even the sun.  Would you ever be able to know him?

Staring at his back in the blissful silence of hyperspace and feeling like the Maker himself is letting you in on one of his proudest secrets, some wild thought suddenly occurs to you that… you think you would.  Somehow.

You can’t explain it and you’d never be able to prove it, but you feel like if you lined up every single person in this galaxy shoulder to shoulder, all however many trillions of them there are, then you could walk the entire length of it and somehow come to a stop right where he’s standing.  Every single time.  You feel like you could do it in the pitch black.  You could do it with your eyes closed.

And, he must just be so gorgeous.  Maybe not in a traditional sense (or maybe in one, you’d have no way of knowing), but mostly in just… the rawest sense imaginable.  Not like how symmetry and straight lines are gorgeous, but how a mountain is gorgeous.  Rocky, dangerous, steep, the product of constant conflict between two immovable sides.  He’s got scars littering his body, one of which you remember giving him yourself with a cauterizer on his lower back.  He holds himself like his shoulders could tell their own story if anyone ever asked them; built to endure, weighed down and made strong with a collection of burdens he chooses to strap to them, steel or otherwise.

You don’t want to close your eyes once Din slowly turns around to look at you, but it happens anyways and you’ve never been so disappointed in your own cowardice.

But then, in a way, it could just be your own self-preservation instincts taking over.  No matter how stunning and life changing the spectacle would be, why would anyone ever stare directly at a supernova?  For so long, you’ve told yourself that his face is something you shouldn’t ever see on principle, but in a way, you suppose it’s fair he put this decision on you because he always has, even from the very beginning.  He trusted you to keep your eyes closed for months on end and you never had a problem with it, so why is it so hard to open them now that he’s given you permission?

A couple weeks of that, and you start to worry that you’re unintentionally rejecting him.

It’s the last fucking thing you want, but how can you avoid it?  Din is… different, he notices.  He’s made a living off of finding things that inherently don’t want to be found—he knows all too well what secrecy looks and sounds like, he’s quick and observant and you don’t stand a single fucking chance against him in all the years of his practice.

But strangely, for as often as you feel like you can figure out what he’s thinking without ever seeing his face—realizing what his intentions are ahead of time and not feeling slighted when he phrases things a certain way or just chooses not to speak at all—you never truly realized how much that extended back to you.

He knows you, too.  He told you so.

For some reason, you didn’t even consider the possibility of it working just as well the other way around.  That you could choose to stay silent, and he’d know why.  You feel like the mystery of him just eclipses you in every single way that you don’t consider even yourself much of anything, much less something else to be contemplated and understood.  While you wouldn’t necessarily qualify the conflict as not being ready to commit, he seems more than willing to respect it regardless and nothing about the way he treats you or interacts with you changes.  Normally you’d say it’s like he forgot the whole thing ever happened, but it’s almost the exact opposite.  Like he was just naturally expecting it from you.

Are you truly so predictable, you wonder?  He said you’d say no.  Was he right?  You’re not saying no, you just… can’t remember the word for yes right now.  It’s right there on the tip of your tongue and the harder you work for it, the more frustrated you become with your own inability to find it.

But, instead of waiting, you think Din just decides to continue the conversation with the promise to come back to you when you finally figure it out.

Sometimes, especially when he’s gone, you find yourself thinking about what moment you’d choose, if you could.  Since you can never seem to find the right one naturally, how would it all go if you could construct everything yourself?  Where would it be?  Naboo?  No, that’s too cheesy.  One thing you and Din both have in common is your practicality, your respective propensities for wanting to tackle one thing at a time and not needing frills attached to something in order to find a deep connection to it, a personal value to it.  You weren’t even bothered when he didn’t claim you as a girlfriend to Peli, that’s how reasonable you used to be about labels.  Now you’re your own antithesis, trying to conjure meaning where there isn’t any just so you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s ripping it away.  You want this decision to feel as permanent as it is.  You want it to be a happy thing, something that happens when you’re both so in love that you can’t bear to have metal separating you any longer.

You think… you’ll just know it when the time comes.

***

“I have to leave,” comes Din’s hushed voice through the darkness, and even though it’s the first thing either of you have said in hours, it sounds frustrated.  Like it’s been bothering him for awhile and he’s just now finally telling you.  “I… fuck, I can’t stay here, I should’ve left a long time ago.”

You whine softly into the pitch black, turning your head into the pillow and curling your fingers into his hair.  “But it’s still so early…”

“It’s mid-afternoon,” he groans back, dropping his forehead down against your skin and breathing hot air along it.  “We’ve been parked here for hours, I don’t know how you can sleep so long.”

“I’m not sleeping,” you pout, before gently dragging your nails down his scalp and feeling his whole body shudder with it.  “Earlier I was.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you one last long, slow kiss.  You sigh when his tongue comes out and glides soft and hot against your lips, tightening your grip on his hair.

But soon he pulls away, lifting the covers from over his head and pushing up from between your spread legs.  “This one shouldn’t take long,” he gruffs, planting both palms next to your head and kissing you once more in the darkness, dipping his tongue into your mouth this time.  You moan softly and taste yourself on him, moving to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, but he breaks the kiss and leans back before you can, preemptively avoiding the possibility of getting lost in it.  “I’ll be back around dawn.”

You’ve known it was coming for hours now, so you’re able to play it off way better this time around.  “Okay,” you breathe softly, dragging your palms up his bare chest as he lifts himself tall over your body.  The slight disappointment underneath is so masterfully hidden, you’re almost positive you’re going to get away with it.  “Be safe.  Please.”

But then… well.  Bounty hunter.

Din pauses for a moment like that in between your open legs, letting you slowly slide your hands down his ribs and over the lines of his stomach.  You wait for him to move, find his clothes so you can get around and make some food, wake the kid up from his nap in an hour or so.  Can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much you wish you could.

Only, he still hasn’t moved and you start to become concerned.  “Din?”

But then he suddenly groans like he just can’t help it, grabbing both of your spread legs and easily lifting them up.  You make a sound of confusion as he maneuvers them until they’re pressed together and draped over one of his shoulders, and then his hips drop and push forward to slide himself thick and perfect into your blazing hot cunt.

Still drenched and swollen from cumming in his mouth so many times earlier, you gasp and he just groans louder, a ragged thing scraping out of his throat while you struggle through blind and unexpected euphoria to reach him.  But you can’t—Din hugs your legs tight to his chest and settles in just like this, turning his head to drag soft lips and a hot tongue over your ankle before he starts fucking you.  Right up against your g-spot, with your whole lower body in the way and preventing you from slowing him down.

You just have to clap both hands over your mouth just to keep quiet since you can’t reach him.  You feel his teeth sink into the meat of your calf, hips pistoning far beyond your reach and it feels so fucking good that you almost don’t hear his gritted words against your skin.

“I have to go,” he groans, repeating it over and over until his voice begins to pull tight and it just sounds like a plea.  “I have to go, I have to go, I h—have to… h-have to go, I have to, I have to, I have…”

*** 

When Din finally steps foot out of the ship, fumbling with his rifle and cursing quietly through the modulator, it’s the middle of the night some twelve hours later.

***

Steady…

Steady………

Fire.

—and… you blink as bark splinters.

Did you…?  You look down at the blaster in your hand and then back to the ginormous charred tree trunk for a few seconds, wondering if you’re just seeing shit.

No, it’s real.  You actually fucking did it.  You…

… hit the target.

All of a sudden, your ecstatic giggle echoes loudly throughout the foresty autumn wonderland around you, reds and oranges and yellows crunching under your feet while you start to dance.

“Hey!  See that, bug!?”  You call out, shoving the blaster into your waistband and shimmying up to your enthralled audience of one, who just so happens to be smiling as wide as you are as he’s scooped up into your arms.  “I hit the target, I hit the target,” you sing, beginning to sway the baby back and forth as he squeals, laughing while you bounce him.  “No demon powers necessary, little man!  I figured it out, I just have to use one hand instead of two.  You can retire now, you’re the right age for—”

A twig snaps in the distance somewhere to your left, and you quickly spin around while reaching for the blaster behind your back.

Except all you see is a blue Twi’lek standing out amongst all the fall foliage, his hands cuffed behind his back and stumbling a few steps at a time while a considerably taller suit of beskar shoves him forward.  You relax and immediately turn to look down at the ground, trying to bite your lip so you don’t smile too hard while they both approach.  You did it—finally, you did it, you’re on top of the fucking universe right now.

You wait for them to pass by and move up the open metal ramp to the carbonite chamber, but then Din apparently decides to pause when he’s directly behind you, yanking the quarry to a sudden halt.  

You know you should probably turn around to address them, but you can’t hide the happiness from your expression, it’s way too obvious.  Though, after a moment, you decide to shyly turn to face the two men while continuing to bounce the baby in your arms, hoping that his and your matching expressions of excitement aren’t too terribly inappropriate right now.

Din looks from you to the splintered bark on the tree, and then back to you again, before slowly tilting the helmet up in a way that feels… proud of you.

“Congratulations,” he finally says, and you can hear the genuine smile hidden in the modulated drawl.

“Thank you,” you beam up at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.  “Was pretty awesome.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he tells you, and you don’t know why, but the tone of his voice makes you go so warm.  It’s not like he’s openly flirting with you, but coupled with your giddiness and sounding like that in front of a bounty he caught in record time, it just makes your heart fucking throb for him.

“It’s alright,” you murmur, shuffling your feet through the crunchy leaves below and trying to play it as cool as possible.  You have company.  “I’ll be able to do it again.”

“Let’s see it, then.”  He tips the helmet over at the tree, and you look between him and the unfamiliar quarry for a second, not used to Din just… ignoring their existence entirely for you.  It’s not like the Twi’lek has said anything or inserted himself into the situation at all, but still.  Din has one hand latched onto the cuffs behind his back to prevent him from booking it, but other than that, it’s like he’s pretending he’s not even there.

“Uh…”  You immediately feel yourself get nervous.  “I can… try.”

He nods one single time in silent encouragement, and you slowly turn to face the tree once more.  The kid stays cradled in your arm while you reach for the blaster in your waistband, removing it and using your longest finger to flick the safety off with a practiced fluidity.  Then, extending it out in front of you and taking advantage of your newfound strategy of only firing with one hand, you line up the sight and pull the trigger.

You wish you could say it hits.  It would be so fucking cool and impressive if you hit the target like that, wouldn’t it?  But it doesn’t hit.  It misses, like usual.  Miserably.  And then an amused snort comes from behind you.

“Right stormtrooper, you are—” you hear an unfamiliar accent begin to snark, but the rest of it turns into a garbled howl the second Din jerks his elbow back to slam it in his face.

You whip around just in time to see a cascade of blood pouring down blue lips and sharp teeth—holy fuck.  You gasp and take a step backwards with the kid, not horrified by the sudden display of violence (not after Din spent an hour teaching you how to do that, too) but not quite expecting it at that moment, either.  But then, well… that’s the second time he broke a quarry’s nose for addressing you with disrespect.  There was that other one he choked, you’re pretty sure—though you can’t remember exactly what initiated that.

Din yanks the bounty up the ramp without another word, leaving both you and the kid there to process while he shoves him through the hull and towards the carbonite chamber none too kindly.  However, by the time he seals the quarry to his fate and eventually makes his way back to you, you just… 

Fuck, you feel so stupid.

You shouldn’t even bother, what’s the point?  All that practice and nothing to show for it.  If you can’t even hit a stationary target with the pressure of others watching, what makes you think you’ll have any hope at all in a situation where you actually need to shoot?  Are they gonna stand still for you?  Are they gonna be as wide as a fucking treetrunk?  You’re horribly embarrassed, so downtrodden in the face of a cruel taunt that you don’t even want to look at Din when he steps in front of you.

“Hey, just try it again,” he says without delay, but the damage has already been done.  It’s not his fault, you’re just… not the kind of person who is meant to shoot a blaster, maybe.  

“Ah… it’s alright,” you look out and smile sadly at the line of trees surrounding you, wondering how it’s possible that you only managed to hit one of them this whole time.  You don’t see it, but Din quickly touches the tips of his fingers to the side of his helmet twice before you look back at him.  “I hit it earlier.  I did, I promise.  You can see the mark if you look.”

His glove reaches out to brush your hair back, so unbelievably gentle after using the same arm to shatter bone just a few minutes ago.  “I know you did.  It was a perfect shot, you hit dead center.  I see it.”

“I did it with one hand, that’s why I tried the thing,” you mumble stupidly, looking down at your feet.  Dumb.  Dumb.

A strand of your hair is tucked behind your ear.  “Wish I was here.”

You glance over at him, feeling your expression suddenly go soft with a wave of affection.  It stops all the harsh criticisms, halting your negativity in its tracks and replacing it with just… soft, abstract things.  Mostly just warm, nonsensical fluff, but one clear and resounding thought breaking through.  You wish he was here, too.

“Maybe I’ll get good at it eventually,” you sigh, slowly handing him the blaster with the barrel pointed down and away from both of you.  Din carefully takes it from you, tucking it away somewhere on his utility belt while you gaze out at the designated target and victorious char mark decorating it.  “Or hopefully just okay at it at some point.  I guess I just need to practice more, right?”

“That’s right,” he tells you warmly, catching your free wrist.  “Try using this one when you do.”  And then a lightweight piece of metal is gently pushed into your empty hand.

Your expression furrows while you quickly look down at it, and—

You go utterly still at the gift, not even knowing what to think.

The first thing that you notice is the craftsmanship.  Brilliant, structurally flawless, the perfect size to fit your hand.  You don’t recognize the specific kind of metal that was used—definitely not beskar—but you think it might be constructed from the same material as Din’s old armor.  Dull silver, but with reflective chrome filigree accents around the handle, trigger, and safety.  It’s uniquely constructed and unlike any weapon you’ve ever seen before—no hard lines or edges, just a soft fluidity to the design that’s so aesthetically pleasing, it doesn’t really even resemble a blaster at all.

You can feel the visor silently studying your reaction while you continue marveling, noticing something new every time you look.  The safety is towards the back of the chamber, just like he said it’d be.  The sight is electronic, and you examine the way it’s built directly into the barrel.

Are those extra magnets on the inside?  Is this able to micro-adjust the plasma release for the best shot?  Holy stars, it must have cost a fortune.

“Din, this is…” you can’t decide where you want to look—the gorgeous crafting, the custom design, or him.  Standing so close to you, not saying a word while you search for the right ones.  “It’s so beautiful, I…”

“Was made for you,” he murmurs.  “Had to be.”

You look back down at the blaster to stop your eyes from tearing up.  He didn’t have to do this.  This is so… sweet, such a lovely thing to do.  Don’t cry, don’t cry—

“What is this?” You ask breathlessly instead, rotating the gun until he can see the symbol branded on the handle.  You recognize that it’s his signet, but you never bothered to ask him what it’s called, you never saw it as your place.  It’s an animal of some sort, one with a giant spike attached to its skull, and you’re glad you’ve never come face to face with one.

“It’s a mudhorn,” he answers quietly.  “They’re… dangerous animals.  Fiercely protective, preferring solitude.  The kid saved me from one a few days after I met him.  It’s… the mark of my clan.”

How fitting, you think, and an honor.  Perfect for him, and a bone-deep reminder of your two favorite people in the galaxy on your hip wherever you go.

“Thank you,” you tell him, hoping the sincerity in your voice sounds anywhere close to how you feel.  You haven’t even had it in your hand for longer than a minute and it’s already your prized position, the most important thing you’ve ever called yours.

Din nods and takes a small step back.  “Now hit the target.”

Feeling invigorated and renewed in every single way, you keep the kid tucked firmly in one arm while raising your blaster with the other.  The safety clicks off and your back straightens, chin lifting until something about the angle feels… right.  The trigger moves easily under your fingertip, and there’s almost no kickback considering how light the weapon is.  What you’re not expecting is the pure white beam of plasma shooting out of the barrel—unlike any blaster you’ve ever seen before—but then the immediate sight of it hitting the tree dead center sends a roar of triumph through your ears.  Fuck yes.

“Look at that!”  Din calls out over the kid’s happy squeal, and there’s nothing you can do to stop your loud whoop of victory.  Even though you know it only hit with the addition of those extra magnets to correct your terrible aim, that still feels so good—you feel so fucking powerful and dangerous.  You glance over to Din with a wide smile, but then his arm extends out towards the trunk directly next to the one with charred bark.  “Hit that one.”

You automatically swing the blaster in that direction and shoot.  A few pieces of wood split on impact and send sharp bits flying as soon as the bright white beam collides with it.

“That one,” Din tells you, and then bark splinters a half second later.  “That one.”  Bark splinters.  “That one, that one, that one—” hit, hit, hit, white plasma flying through the air and bark splintering in rapid succession.

He stops and spins around, pointing to a tree at the very edge of the clearing.  “That one?”

It’s furthest away but the trunk’s diameter is enormous.  As you lift the blaster, you know you’re likely to get it easily with this sophisticated weapon, even across the considerable distance.  So instead, feeling like nothing at all can touch you right now and wanting to see how smart the aim mechanism is, you raise up a few degrees higher before pulling the trigger.  Pale plasma launches from the barrel, and then one of the tree’s most prominent branches comes creaking and crashing to the ground right where you split it.

You’re beaming by the time Din turns back to you, the most excited you’ve ever been with your own progress.  He holds there for a moment while you lower your blaster and wait for him to speak, both of you looking at each other and not moving, until suddenly you hear his voice coming back to you.

Hit the target and I’ll marry you.

One of Din’s hands slowly comes up to the edge of his helmet, but before you can even process the implication behind the gesture, you’re immediately looking down at the crunchy leaves under your feet and clearing your throat.

There’s a beat of silence where you stare down at the dead foliage and wonder why the fuck you just did that.  Right in front of him, right to his face, too startled at how quickly you were being confronted with the possibility that you responded in an equally startled way.  It was instinctual, automatic and entirely out of your control, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to take it back.

But… you can’t take it back.  That’s the way things are, and after a few moments, you hear his boots begin to cross the distance to you.

“Come on,” Din murmurs gently through the modulator, carefully taking the blaster from your hand and clicking the safety back on again.  “We have to get going.  The fifth quarry is far.  Three day trip through hyperspace.”

He doesn’t sound upset or disappointed by your unintentional rejection, thank the Maker.  You want to explain yourself somehow, but it appears it isn’t necessary in the slightest.  His arm wraps around your lower back and he leads both you and the baby back up the open ramp of the Crest, squeezing you close enough to his side that you have to learn how to walk in a different way to stop yourself from tripping over his boots.

The helmet turns and presses to the top of your head while you focus on moving straight.  “Proud of you,” Din murmurs quietly, and your chest fills with enough air that you’d be worried about floating away if he wasn’t latched onto you so tightly.

He eventually releases you and walks over to the armory, pressing a button to unlock the doors while you hold the kid and watch him start to remove the multitude of weapons strapped to his body.

Maybe… maybe this isn’t the right time, but something brave surges up inside you.  After receiving the most precious gift imaginable from him, hitting all those targets and hearing him say that he’s proud of you, you’re buzzing with just enough energy that for better or worse, it makes you open your mouth and ask.

“Could I… come with you this time?”

Din nearly jerks upright and looks over at you immediately, but he takes a while in responding.  You hope he sees it in your eyes.  You hope he sees just how much you don’t want to be stuck here again when this is possibly the one time you’d be able to tag along.  It’s a bullshit quarry, one he could do in his sleep, and you’ve been getting increasingly restless while stuck on this ship.

When Din eventually does respond… well, judging from his shift in tone, you’re assuming he was just shocked at the question and didn’t take any of that time to actually consider his answer.

“No.”  Short.  Unfeeling, and not sorry about it in the slightest, before turning back to return the blasters you were using previously to the armory as if you said nothing at all.

Okay…  Um.  Not great, not what you wanted to hear, but maybe if you explain yourself better, he’ll listen.

“I just… I’m the only reason you have to get this quarry in the first place.”  Your voice is quiet, trying to let go of some of the concerns you’ve kept to yourself over the past two weeks.  Your fingers fiddle idly with the kid’s little woolen sack as he hangs out in your arms, wanting to plead your case but feeling slightly nervous now.  “You were out having a crazy expensive blaster made for me while I shook hands with Karga and agreed that you’d take more work for less pay.  I hate that I did that.”

“You had no choice,” Din mutters, turning around and striding past you while pressing a button on his vambrace to close the Crest’s ramp.  “My fault for being late.”  And… for as warm and comforting as his voice sounded earlier, it now just sounds… dismissive.  Aloof.  Half-listening, not really wanting to talk but forcing himself to.

“Well this time, I thought maybe… I might be able to help?  Maybe?”  Maker, you feel yourself going quieter the more he walks around the hull and ignores you.  “Karga said it was just a missing person, not even a criminal…”

“Karga says a lot of things,” he grunts with his back to you, voice completely monotone through the modulator.

Come on, speak up.  You’ve lacked a backbone for so long, you’ll never get what you want unless you say it out loud and let it be known.  You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders, trying to put a little bit of spine into it.  “I can be useful.  I can fight now, I’ve been working on my—” 

“You think I’m telling you no because I don’t think you’re capable?”  He suddenly whips around, voice ringing sharp and challenging throughout the hull while you freeze.  You don’t move but everything about you suddenly feels like it shrinks.

“I-I didn’t—” But he cuts you off, taking a step forward.

“I know you can fight, a Mandalorian taught you how.  I know you’re useful, I know it’s just a missing person, and I know you hate it when I leave.”  He pins you with his eyes through the visor, his tone harder than you think you’ve ever heard it before.  “No.  Your job is to stay here, on this ship, with my son, where it is safe, and my job is to go get the quarry.  Quit asking.  I’m not telling you again.”

The baby makes a tiny little distressed sound in your arms and you blink a few times up at the cold metal, feeling all the good feelings from before just… drain out of you.

Okay, that’s fine.  Uh.  You… the cockpit is behind you, you’ll go up there and fly then.  No reason, just… he should get going.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod and tell the wall over his shoulder brace in immediate agreement, before abruptly spinning around and grabbing the ladder.  Din doesn’t move a single fucking muscle while you try to find your way up to the cockpit with the baby held to your chest and a dead stone sitting heavy inside of it, hoping your face doesn’t show the vulnerability you feel wanting to take over as you retreat.  Get to the cockpit first, get to the cockpit first, get to the—

“Sweet girl, I…” you barely hear murmured through the helmet from the floor, soft enough to sound slightly shocked, but you scramble into the cockpit and shut the door behind you before he can say anything else.

***

Silence didn't used to feel like this.

At first it was eerie, unnatural and stifling when you spent years in a wide open desert, wind swirling and dust pelting.  It suffocated you the first few times you jumped into hyperspace, a phenomena you read all about and considered mathematically fascinating before ever experiencing for yourself.  It was… foreign and strange, but you began to value it more and more as time passed.

Then, you started to get to know him and silence just became comforting.  Something you could bask in, knowing it was a comfort to him.  A choice he made because it just fit him best.  You felt safe in it, you felt like you didn’t have to be anything else but you.  You never had to break it just to avoid awkwardness, you became… closer to it, until you learned to fall in love with it.

But only when he was with you and it was his silence.  Not… everything else’s.  Now it’s haunting again.  Now the sheer lack of sound through hyperspace is a stranger to you, and the distortion of light surrounding the cockpit feels less about the sheer magnificence of manipulating space time and more about the fundamental disconnect it causes.  Gorgeous, but at its core, a severance.  Ripping the fabric of the universe apart, tearing a wound in it.

It’s been a few hours and nothing exceptional has happened since your conversation in the hull.  

You’ll admit that you’re a sensitive person, and because of that, you’ve always had a problem knowing if you were right or wrong when someone comes at you with a hard enough will.  You second-guess yourself, it’s one of your worst traits, and you feel like trying to squash that tendency without knowing the limit is partially to blame for why you’re holed up in this cockpit with the kid.  You’re quiet but in a different way from Din.  When he doesn’t speak, it’s because most of the time, he’s sure of himself and doesn’t need to.  When you don’t speak, it’s because most of the time, you’re insecure and don’t want to.

After being left alone with your thoughts for this long, you’re starting to realize that… he was right.  What were you thinking, wanting to tag along?  Wanting to hang out while he risks his life for this occupation, you probably sounded so fucking ignorant.  Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but his point is still very valid and you’re not sure if you’re really justified in hiding like this anymore.

The way he said… your job, though.  That still stings a bit.  This hasn’t felt like an actual job in a very long time.  Was that just an expression, or did he mean it literally?  You’re stuck on it, you’ve just been going over this for hours in your head, trying to figure out if you should be the one to apologize or not—or if this is just you overreacting from the start and no apologies will be necessary at all.

“Sorry you got stuck with me, kid,” you mutter sadly to the baby, watching him fiddle with his favorite metal ball in your lap.  He makes a little gurgle, purring in that weirdly adorable little way of his and it somehow feels like a reassurance directed to you that he’s just fine the way he is.

Maker, you haven’t heard anything from the hull in a fucking eternity; it’s like Din turned into a ghost, hasn’t even made a single footstep that you could hear since you last left him standing there.  You remember performing a quick flight check as soon as you got up here, lifting off as fast as you could and hoping the thrusters would rumble loud enough to cover your series of pitifully shallow sniffles at being yelled at unexpectedly by a very large and intimidating man, not really crying but not really able to breathe normal either.  The little monster was able to wiggle himself around in your lap as you were trying to punch in the correct coordinates for the fifth quarry with rapidly blinking, watery eyes, and then proceeded to give your belly the smallest hug you think you’ve ever been given and pretty much break your heart with it.

Lovely little boy, so sweet when he wants to be.  He’s sat with you this whole time, he even tried giving you his metal ball to play with but ultimately decided to keep it to himself when he realized you aren’t nearly as fascinated by it as he is.  You know it’s probably getting late for him, and you’ve been weighing the idea of handing him over to his father so he can at least get a good night’s sleep somewhere that isn’t your arms.  There’s no blankets in here, just your lap.

“I think I gotta go take you to your dad soon, tiny.  He’s probably missing you,” you tell him, trying to keep quiet enough that you won’t disturb Din in the hull.  There’s a good chance he’s already asleep.  “I think… he might still be mad at me.  Maybe you can give him the big eyes, soften him up a little?”

Right on cue, his enormous eyes start to droop closed, and you let out a tired sigh of exasperation.  That’s not gonna work, come on.  They gotta be open, booger.

You watch him slowly drift to sleep, his ears relaxing until they too start to droop, but when you try to take the ball from him and set it down on the console, his eyes immediately pop back open and the toy slips from your fingertips.  It levitates right back into his tiny hands as you watch, and then he closes his eyes once more while tightly cuddling the thing he loves most to his body.

Unbelievable.

He’s a child, and yet he’s…

“How are you so strong?”  You ask him, unable to even fathom.  “You’re the smallest, most helpless little thing I’ve ever seen and you’ve got such… strength.  You defy the universe for a piece of metal.”

He doesn’t hear you, you think he’s asleep again.  It’s just as well, you figure.  He needs to go sleep in his crib, it’s time.  You scoop him up and make sure the little ball stays tucked snugly in his arms, before finally standing up and stumbling over to the door on numb legs.

Only, when it slides open, you quickly stop short.

Because there, sitting on the floor and resting his helmet against the corner of this small little platform leading to the ladder, is the Mandalorian.

So much closer than you expected him to be.  So big, crammed into such a tiny place.  You didn’t hear his footsteps climbing the ladder, and you would’ve noticed it during the hours you’ve spent in the suffocatingly muted quiet of hyperspace.  He can be silent but not when absolutely nothing else exists and he’s got a thousand fucking pounds of steel weighing him down at any moment in time.  You took off almost immediately once you barricaded yourself inside the cockpit, so has he… did he follow you up in those last few seconds, right after you shut the door?  The ones when you were sniffling like a child and trying desperately to turn the thrusters on before you let the tears come?

His head lifts and his back straightens as you’re looking down at him with his sleeping son cradled in your arms, your eyes slightly redder than they should be.  You’re a mess and… he’s been here this whole time?

“Could you hear me in there?”  You whisper in sudden mortification, but Din just keeps gazing up at you through the impenetrable metal visor.  A complete mystery again.  Unreadable—he could be anyone.

When he doesn’t answer you, your heart twists with the possibility that he’s still upset with you, and you quickly turn to the ladder to figure out the best way to get down without jostling the baby.

“I’m sorry.”  His voice stops you dead in your tracks.  It’s so soft, nearly flipping in and out of the modulator from the lack of volume, the most cautious sounding thing you’ve ever heard coming through the filter.  “I… hurt your feelings.  I’m sorry.”

And…  Maker, if anybody else had said it.  If literally anybody else had said it, you know it would’ve sounded like the most sarcastic, dickish remark in such a delicate moment.  But, you also remember him telling you once that you were tenderhearted.  That the galaxy would never be as kind to you as you are to it.  This… comes out sounding like he’s trying to change that.

It comes out sounding like he’s trying to use his voice to hold you because he doesn’t think you want to be touched right now.  Like… like he’s doing everything he can to be as careful as possible here because you think he might be attempting to do something he’s never done before.  Apologize for saying something he didn’t mean.

“You don’t have to,” you quickly tell him.  He’s not good with words and apologies are difficult enough to phrase for normal people, you don’t want him to fret over it if that’s what this is.  “It’s okay, I know you’re not… you don’t have to.  It was stupid of me to ask.”

“It wasn’t,” he instantly counters, his voice finally seeming to find the floor when it was just hovering before.  Not loud—still gentle, still making sure the kid doesn’t wake up and you’re not frightened away, but a bit more grounded this time.  “It wasn’t… what I wanted to hear, and I didn’t take it well.  Not stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you return amicably, looking down at your feet.  “That’s not my… job, like you said.”

Din suddenly hangs his helmet down to his chest, pressing his gloves to the part that curves over his forehead and rubbing it.  “Shit.  I didn’t mean—”

“You were right,” you acknowledge, having spent the past few hours coming to the understanding that it’s the hard truth and he just phrased it poorly.  “I’m not… built for it, I’d only get in your way.  I barely just managed to shoot stationary targets with a blaster today, and that’s only with that aim corrector built into the barrel.  I’m here to be helpful, not—”

“What are you saying?”  He suddenly lifts the beskar to study you, sounding genuinely confused.  “What aim corrector?”

That… makes you pause.

“The, uh…”  Now you’re confused.  “The one that adjusts the plasma release on the gun you gave me.”

He doesn’t move an inch or say a single thing to you in response and you awkwardly shuffle your feet for a second, everything so quiet that you can hear every little snore that goes in and out of the kid’s tiny button nose.

You blink at him after way too long of that, not knowing why he still hasn’t said anything.  “There’s an electronic sight and like a bazillion extra magnets packed into the barrel, Din, what else could—”

“Sweet girl, that’s… that’s for the Philithiorium,” Din breathes out, like he’s absolutely blown away by you right now.  “That gas is less stable than normal canisters, it takes more magnets to focus the white beam without overheating the metal.”

You stare at him, not truly processing.  He’s saying that… you made all those shots today without any help at all?  By yourself?

Your eyebrows furrow and you blink a few times, but then his slow, heavy sigh echoes throughout the metal walls with disappointment… and you don’t think it’s directed towards you.

“You’re just… always so unsure of yourself.”  He sounds genuinely distraught as his helmet tips down to look at the ground.  “I made that worse today.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly shake your head, your chest already beginning to loosen slightly by just being around him, hearing his voice, seeing the metal glint under the fluorescent light overhead when he’s in such a vulnerable position on the floor.  “It’s okay, let’s just… pretend neither of us said anything at all, okay?”

“Is that what you really want?”  He asks you after a moment of quiet, and for some reason, you hear something in your mind tell you that his arms look so nice right now, don’t they?  You could fit right there, perfect and safe again.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you smile at him, feeling a bit of the ache trapped inside you continue to work itself out little by little.  You’ll be back to normal soon, it’s fine.

“No, I mean… do you really want to come with me?”  Din asks you, the words sounding cautious.  Confused, like he truly never expected the proposition from you at all.  “Or… do you just not want me to go?”

Oof, what a fucking question.

Why would he ask this?  It’s not pointed; it’s the softest, gentlest inquiry you’ve ever been posed.  Maybe in other circumstances, you’d say that him leaving doesn’t have anything to do with it, but… you’re certain that internally, it absolutely does have at least something to do with it and he was just able to know it before you did.  Which is probably why his sharp words seemed all the more cutting earlier.  It hurt because he said the truth first, verbalized a very deep insecurity you’ve been trying to hide from him and threw it right in your face when shutting you down.

Though, if it worked differently and you were the one who had to be away while he stayed here, you’d like to think you’d handle it way better than how it is now.  At least you’d have a real mission to focus on, new things to see and experiences to have.  You just feel… confined sometimes.

You take a deep breath and figure you’ll use sitting down as an excuse to think for a second.  There’s practically no room but you find it in the back of the cockpit near the doorframe anyways, doing your best to keep the kid level while you slowly lower yourself to the ground near him.  Not touching him, but close.

“I just… I lived my whole life stuck in one spot, wanting to see the galaxy,” you finally admit to him, staring at his chestplate but seeing the helmet tilt slightly in your peripheral.  “Sometimes it’s just… hard to see the galaxy and still be stuck in one spot, I guess.”

“…You want an adventure,” Din proposes quietly, and though there’s not a single hint of mockery in his voice, you suddenly feel like it’s really fucking dumb when he phrases it like that.  What are you, an eight year old?  Wanting to go on an adventure, see things you’ve never seen without any concept for real life?  Credits?  Time?  Resources?

You shrug a shoulder to make it seem like it’s no big deal.  Why is he even entertaining this right now?  “It’s stupid, I kn—”

“Like on Naboo,” he goes on, ignoring your harsh self-criticism, not allowing you the ability to even get it out once he heard the first couple words.  “Going through the forest, seeing that waterfall.  Someplace to find for yourself.  Explore.  Experience.”

You… you want it so badly that you think your eyes might tear up just hearing the words coming out of his mouth when he says them like that.  Like he… just inherently understands.  He knows.

He knows you.  He’s not good with words and yet he found the single most succinct way to put what you thought was a complex yearning without even trying.  You can’t even answer him, he hit the target dead on and you’re left with nothing to say that wouldn’t just be a miserable lie.

“Okay,” Din says after a moment, giving you a small nod.

You’re lost now.  “…Okay?”

“You’re never going on a hunt with me,” he tells you very seriously, no room for arguing.  “Ever.  And not because you can’t handle it, understand?”  He inhales, quickly adding on to his response before you’re able to analyze it the way you want to.  “But if you want an adventure, then… I can try and find a way to give you one.”

Stars.  He’s… too kind.  You somehow feel like it’s more than you deserve.  You were honestly hoping to just shadow him on a hunt, watch him work and stay well out of the way when he needs you to.  Helping if you think you’d be of any help; an extra set of eyes and hands.  You would’ve been fine even if he didn’t apologize for raising his voice at you, he doesn’t have to do this for you.

“Thank you,” you say for the third time today, feeling like each one has somehow multiplied in sincerity.

“It can’t be right now,” he quickly tells you, apologetic but earnest about it.  “I have to find the quarry, and I’m supposed to meet with Karga again in a week.”

You never did let him know about the other part of the deal you made with Karga, you admit.  Four pucks, no hassling, no hard time constraints.  That’s what you shook on, but you just never found a way to bring it up to Din.  Especially since you’ve been so preoccupied with hiding your growing disappointment from him whenever he has to go.

“If…” you pause, wondering the best way to phrase this.  Yikes, this is a toughie.  “Um.  If Karga… I don’t know, hypothetically, if Karga decided to loosen the time constraints back to the way they were before the Corellian bounty, would you… still need to meet with him again in a week?”

You don’t think he even bothers shuffling through all those words.  “Say what you mean.  Please.”

“That was part of the deal I struck with him,” you quickly explain.  “You can hunt on your own timetable again and he’ll keep giving you four pucks like before, no more or less after this one extra quarry.  It’s like a… replacement of sorts, for the one I kept you from getting the time before.  If credits aren’t an issue, you can take more than a week.  But only if you want to, you don’t have to.  It’s just there and you should know, that’s all.”

He takes his time responding, lifting his helmet just the slightest bit in… surprise?  Maybe?

“You never told me you did that,” Din finally murmurs.

“Ah.  Well.”  You look down at the sleeping kid in your arms.  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to… keep you here.”

It genuinely is a struggle for you, and you think he’s just now realizing that.  As much as you know he gets frustrated with you for always wanting him to be here when he physically can’t be, you think it’s only now that he’s truly realizing the lengths you go to in order to stomp that part of you down whenever you feel it threatening to come up.  You allowed him to leave every single time without telling him he could stay, knowing that all that was left for you was babysitting and target practice for days on end.

“Will you come over here?”  Din finally asks, and the tone of his voice just punches you in the chest.  So soft, so distressed from having you so close yet so far from him and just… full of a quiet hope, like he’s fully expecting you to say no.

“Will we fit?”  You whisper after a moment, even quieter.

He doesn’t answer, he just reaches for you.  You do your best to scoot over to him without waking the kid, and then Din pulls you the rest of the way once he has a grip.  You go right into his arms, laying sideways across his lap and supported by his steel embrace.

Oh, it’s not comfortable but you’ve also never been more fucking comfortable.  One of his knees lifts and allows you to rest your back against it without worrying about falling over sideways and down the ladder to the hull, thank the Maker.  The beskar pauldron over his shoulder digs into your cheek, but Din immediately pushes an arm up to nudge his helmet off and make it better for both of you.  Your face automatically fits into the crook of his neck while he sets the beskar on the bend of his knee, and then he silently cradles you while you do the same to his little boy… who does the same to his favorite metal ball.

“Ni tar’tayl su,” he murmurs into your hair, the one phrase in Mando’a you do recognize, especially with how beautiful and elegant it sounds rolling off his tongue.  “Forgive me.  Ni ceta.”

You sigh your contentment and melt into him, well aware that you’d still be more comfortable in bed.  But when you’re pressed hard against his chest like this and the baby is fast asleep in your arms, you get to feel both of them breathing.  Din’s right lung is probably bigger than the kid’s whole entire body, but you like the radically different cycles they go through.  You think you count six full breaths coming from the brown sack in your palms for every one of Din’s and two of yours.  It creates the most beautiful little symphony that sometimes gets a little off track, but always finds its way back around again.

“How do you say…”  You ask, feeling his hand slowly move down the curve of your spine, mindless and hypnotic.  It catches the edge of your shirt and goes underneath, and even though it’s not his bare hand and there’s no skin to skin, it still feels so good.  Not sexual or sensual even, just… a comfort to you.  “In Mando’a, how do you say… out of a trillion?”

Din’s breaths pause for just a second, his portion of the synchronized rhythm faltering.  Soon it starts back up, and his head turns to press his lips against your hair.

“I don’t think there’s a word for it,” he admits, gently brushing a thumb across the baby’s forehead while he snoozes.  “There could be, but I don’t know it.  I’d use… out of a million million millions.  Dayn alanyc bal alanyc bal alanyci.”

Your eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from keeping them open after shedding a few tears earlier.  Your first fight and you’re already completely in love with him again after a handful of hours of sulking and one conversation.  How is that possible?  You’re normally a very forgiving person and it wouldn’t have taken much to make you feel better, you just never expected him to… actually want it from you that badly, care enough about it to get on the floor and ask.

Din doesn’t move the entire night through.  You assumed he’d make everyone get up at some point and move to the hull, but he doesn’t.  You fall asleep against his chest, comforted by the silence once again.

***

The next morning, Din quietly climbs into the cockpit while you’re humming in the shower.  You’re too busy basking in the indoor rainfall to feel the ship pull out of hyperspace, and then jump back into it a few moments after.

***

“How long do you think you’ll be this time?”  You ask two days later, sitting on the extended flattop of Din’s old cot and swinging your legs back and forth.  The baby is currently sitting on your lap and trying to roll the metal ball down your knee so you’ll kick it in the air, you think, because he keeps dropping it at different moments and forcing you to stop moving your legs to prevent accidentally denting a wall.  Every time the ball clatters to the floor, he makes a sad sound and it immediately lifts back up into his tiny hands for another try.

Heavy boots clang against the metal floor as Din drops down from the ladder, having just landed the Crest on the surface of whatever planet you’re on.  “I’m not leaving yet.”

“Oh…”  You blink, surprised.  “Okay.”

“I wanted to do some more training with you first, if that’s okay.  You can say no if you want, but maybe not,” Din drawls, striding over to the armory and opening it.  He carefully removes your blaster from the front shelf, speaking with his back to you.  “You’re going to run.”

“Um.”  You take a moment to glance around the enclosed hull, before turning to look back at him with your eyebrows raised.  “What, like… in place?”

Din sighs and closes the armory before leaning back against the doors, rubbing the face of the helmet in exasperation.  “From me, sweet girl.”

Your legs stop swinging, and the baby grumbles and slaps three fingers against your knee.  “What?”

“We’re on Sanctuary II,” he explains, turning to grab his black bag from one of the storage shelves.  He unzips it and reaches back into one of the larger pockets on his utility belt, before grabbing a handful of credits and stuffing them inside.  “It’s a moon, the New Republic occupied it years ago and made it a safe world for refugees and orphans of the Empire.  You’ll have your blaster, some credits, a communicator, and a day head start.  You’re going to run from me.  Show me how much you’ve learned.”

Is… he for real?

Right now?  You don’t even know how to respond, you’re too surprised.  Even when Din approaches and carefully trades the kid for your blaster, setting the bag down next to you on the metal bed, you still haven’t answered him.

“If you want?”  He asks after a moment, and you quickly jerk your head into a nod and jump off the raised platform, almost knocking into him with your sudden excitement.

“Okay!  Fuck yeah,” you grin, but Din shakes his head.

“Rules,” he says seriously, and you quickly do your best to frown, trying to compose your thrilled expression to match his tone.  “One.  This is a safe world, but things can always happen.  You have a blaster now, but it’s for emergencies only.  Do not shoot me with it.  Do you understand?”  You nod, but Din reaches forward to grab your elbow.  “Out loud, please.  For me.”

“I will not shoot you with this blaster,” you vow obediently, carefully cradling the precious firearm in your hands.

“Do not shoot me,” he repeats while pointing a leather finger at you.  “Do not… shoot at me.  Near me.  Around me.  No, just—don’t shoot.  Unless I am… very far away.  Okay?”

Well, he didn’t have to phrase it like that.  You frown, but acquiesce regardless.  “I will only resort to blastering if it’s an emergency and you are not around.”

He nods a thank you for putting it into better words.  “Second rule.  Since you don’t have a ship, I won’t either.  We’re on foot.  I don’t doubt you can hotwire a piece of junk to do what you need it to do, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t.  Good?”

Entirely accurate and entirely fair.  “Good.”

“Three,” he says.  “I’ll have the kid with me, which is both good and bad news for you.  Good news is he’ll slow me down, bad news is I can’t promise he won’t also try to intervene at some point if you’re serious about putting up a decent fight.  What I can promise is that I won’t encourage it.”

“Reassuring,” you nod.  “Also not really a rule.  Please continue.”

“Four.”  He pauses for a second.  “I think I’m wanted by the New Republic.”

You nearly jerk back.  “What?”

“I can’t confirm it and I’m not proud of it,” Din quickly tells you, probably the vaguest possible explanation he could provide.  “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”

Is he fucking serious?  “I don’t want you to be arrested, Din, I—”

“I won’t be,” he assures you.  “They owe me one, I just don’t want to cash in yet.  Trust me.”

You… do.  Insanely, and against every logical thought flittering through your head, you do.  If you were ever going to bet money that someone would be able to navigate a safe world on foot without being caught by the numerous officers scattered across the surface, then you’d put all your credits on Din Djarin.  It… also shouldn’t really surprise you at all that the people seeking his incarceration also owe him a favor, should it?  It actually sounds right on par for him.  “Okay.”

“Fifth, and this one is important, so listen up,” he continues gruffly.  “You check in with me tonight over the e-comm, alright?  I don’t care where you are or how safe this planet is, if you don’t check in, I’ll come find you before the sun rises.  Say you understand me.”

“I understand you,” you tell him, your heart beginning to pound in your chest at the reality of this actually happening.  “I’ll check in tonight.”

“And if,” he goes on, “by some miracle, you manage to make it more than a full day, you check in with me tomorrow night, too.  Say it.”

“I will check in with you every single night for the full five days it’ll take you to find me,” you assert, the adrenaline starting to make you brash and giddy.  

Din tilts his helmet at you sternly.  It is a very, very stern tilt.  “Okay.  New plan, forget everything I just said.”

Your expression furrows.  “What’s the new plan?”

“That is the new plan,” he says, dead serious.  “Us.  Not doing this.”

“Oh, come on,” you grin cheekily up at him, poking his chestplate.  “I’m just giving you some motivation to find me quicker, that’s all.”

Din stares down at you, and… yeesh.  Tough crowd.

“Tell you what,” he finally grunts, sounding incredibly unamused with your jesting.  “If you can last that long with only a day head start, I’ll let you come with me to collect the fifth quarry.  You can even cuff the bastard yourself.”

You know it’s just because he’s rightly confident in his own deadly skill, but hearing him propose the possibility still shoots a thrill down your spine.  “Oh ho, you are gonna regret saying that, shiny,” you beam up at him, starting to hop back and forth on each foot with excitement.

“But if I’m able to find you, you can’t ask me ever again,” he finishes shortly, and you immediately go still in front of him.

“What?”

“If I’m able to find you in five days, I don’t want to hear about you coming with me on a hunt and you can’t ever ask me not to go on one,” Din tells you, his voice rough and gravelly through the modulator.  Not mean or harsh, but firm.  “From now on, it’ll be off-limits.”

You… take a moment, not knowing if you should feel scolded or not.  When you don’t immediately say anything in response, he sighs and turns the helmet away from you.

“Leaving is hard enough as it is,” he mutters, looking at the ground.  “Hearing you ask… makes it impossible.”

You slowly lower your gaze to the floor as well, feeling your heart constrict tight in your chest.  There’s a real pull under his voice, telling you that information even though it sounds like he doesn’t really want to admit it out loud.  It… really is a struggle for him too, then.  You understand.

“Okay,” you nod.  There’s not a single part of you that actually thinks you’ll be able to stay hidden from him for five days while stuck on foot, so this is essentially a given.  You’re not thrilled about the idea, but you’re going to do your best to respect it nonetheless, especially if he cares enough to put off hunting and allow you this experience for yourself.  It’s a better compromise than you ever imagined, and you’ll do everything you can to hold up your side of the bargain.

Din clears his throat and straightens his spine, turning the visor until it faces you head on once more.  “Final rule.  I reserve the right to break any rule we just agreed to, or any fucking rule in this galaxy to keep you safe.  Good?”

Your cheeks flush with heat, your stomach suddenly filling with butterflies.  He doesn’t do that.  Din says what he says or he doesn’t say anything at all, there’s no… taking things back, he’s already breaking his own code.

“What happened to The Way says no take-backs?”  You ask quietly.

“This is my way,” he answers you.  Quick, not even taking a moment to think about it, before pulling out a fancy looking wristwatch thing and clipping it on you himself.  “This is your communicator.  It takes more power than the one you have now but it’ll reach a further distance.  I have one just like it, they’re locked into the same frequency and timesynced together, and the batteries need to be charged every three days.  If you make it that long, I’ll remind you.”  Din grabs the bag while you slide your arm into it, helping you hook it around your shoulder with one hand while he cradles the kid in his other.  Your heart is pounding now, pumping with adrenaline as he pulls you towards the middle of the hull and then wraps an arm around you.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling you tight to him and pressing the helmet to the crown of your head.  His voice is barely a whisper through the modulator.  “Gar darasuum.”  For an eternity.

You find some way to wrap your arms around him, even with your blaster in your hand and the kid hanging out in his dad’s other arm.

“Dayn alanyc, bal alanyc, bal alanyci,” you murmur dutifully against the beskar chestplate, knowing your accent is probably butchering the words but hoping they still carry the same sentiment.

And then you’re squeeeeeezed hard enough to get a little air out of you, before you’re let go and he turns around, pressing a button on his vambrace so the ramp begins to lower.

It’s bright outside but not too bright, and everything is warm and gentle and breezy, right in the middle of a lush plain.  You inhale the fresh air into your lungs, looking out across the wide open field, having no fucking clue this is where your day would be leading when you woke up this morning.  Oh Maker, it’s gorgeous here.  Not like Naboo, where every single thing is picturesque and fit for an e-card, but in a soft, understated kind of way.  The sky is a canvas of swirling pastel clouds, pale pinks and yellows and blues, and the communicator on your wrist lets you know that it’s just after noon here.

You take one single step down the ramp, before immediately stopping and turning around to bite your lip at him.

“How am I… how am I supposed to outrun you?”  You ask, already clueless.  “You’re too good, better than me at everything.”

“That’s not true,” Din reminds you sternly, grabbing your hand at your side.  “You already know who’s after you, that’s an advantage nobody else has ever had against me.  You know how I think.  I don’t know how, but sometimes it’s like you can…”  He slowly shakes his head.  “See me.  Through the metal.”

“But… but that works both ways,” you point out, breathless at hearing him say that but needing to focus right now.  “You know me, too—you’ll know exactly where I—”

He shakes his head again, but quickly this time.  “Remember what I told you a long time ago?  What your best weapon is?”

You… do not.  He told you so many things, and you’re assuming every single one of them is going to come into play during this endeavor if you want to outlast.  You’re going to have to think back and remember all of them individually, find the time to figure out your best plan of action based on the remarkably little you know about how he hunts.

“You’re smart, remember?”  Din murmurs, squeezing your fingers.  “Your mind works differently, it sees things in ways I’ll never be able to, not even with this helmet.  So…”  He shrugs a shoulder like it’s the simplest thing in the galaxy.  “Don’t try to outrun, okay?  Just try to outsmart.”

You give him a nod after a moment, still not really sure about it, before giving his hand one last squeeze in return and eventually letting go.  

Outsmart.  Outsmart him, use what you know about him to be the most elusive quarry he’s ever hunted down.

As you make your way down the ramp, you’re already thinking.  His helmet tracks footprints, that’s a thing you know.  You’ll have to find someone to trade shoes with, then—yours aren’t too beat up, maybe you can find a local who’d appreciate a better pair.  Are you going to a city?  Would there be one in walking distance?  The wilderness won’t work, you’ll be too exposed and it would make you an easy target for either him or wild animals.  The weather seems clear here though, and you don’t think you’ll need to worry about rain or snow, but if—

“Oh—but when you do see me,” Din decides to add when your feet finally touch the grass, and you pause once more to turn around and look at him.  He stays quiet for a second, studying you through the helmet for too long.  Like the anticipation is getting to him already.

You bite your lip back at him and adjust the bag on your shoulder, tummy swirling with nerves and excitement.  He tilts the visor up, gazing down at you from the hull with the kid tucked in his arms.

“Try to outrun,” he says gruffly, before turning back into the ship and letting the ramp slowly close behind him.