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legendofzoodles · 1 year

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Smoke Signal part 4

Remember that fic I did a while ago? Well, that was meant to be a oneshot, but someone asked that I follow through on those story notes.

~~~

Time saw the questioning expressions of the other two and sighed heavily. His groggy voice cut through the icy silence, sending a chill through them all. “He’s not back, is he?”

“Explain,” said Warriors. His tone was cold. Whether intentionally or not, it sounded disturbingly like a stern order, the sort he’d issue to a subordinate when he wanted something done. Immediately.

It was all Time needed to hear to know how he and the others felt. Begrudgingly, he sat up, leaning on an arm for support. “How did you boys sleep?”

“What?”

Time met the Captain’s glare with a single sleepy eye. “It’s pretty late in the day now so you all must have slept a while. How do you feel?”

Warriors’ expression faltered. He allowed for a short pause, rubbing the back of his neck before settling on an answer, “Good- great even. Haven’t slept that well in recent memory.”

Time nodded. “Does everyone feel the same?”

A murmur of muted agreements bubbled through the air as each hero momentarily put aside their suspicions to admit that yes, they had in fact all slept well. Very well. However, the tranquil state they had all found themselves when they woke up swiftly vanished upon realising the reality of their situation.

They had all overslept, leaving themselves vulnerable and without protection in an unknown version of Hyrule for hours and one of their own had gone missing. At first, they blamed a phantom group of thieves who put a sleeping spell on them all and either made off with Wild or he went after them alone.

But then Sky woke up and he argued with Legend, sowing the seeds of the likelihood that there may be another answer. And then Time awoke, spouting out one question that almost confirmed it. Betrayal.

“Great, so we’re all feeling as fresh as daisies.” Legend was quick to cut the chatter with a snide comment. “Mind telling us now what happened last night?”

An exhausted sigh involuntarily escaped Time. It seemed that no amount of sleep would ever be enough for this man. He sat up properly and rubbed at the bags under his eyes. “Certainly,” came his curt reply before promptly standing up and stalking over to the lidded cooking pot. “It seems Wild didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He waited until we all fell asleep and ran off.”

“Cut the crap, you saw him didn’t you?” spat Legend also getting up. “You were on first guard. You could have stopped him!”

Genuine surprise made Time raise his eyebrows. “You honestly believe that I would’ve been the victor of that duel?”

Legend didn’t answer right away, so Hyrule spoke. “He’s got a point vet, look at him properly. He was even worse last night.” Both heroes looked towards their senior, and Legend instinctively touched his bandaged arm upon re-evaluating Time’s injuries.

“Let’s not forget Wild’s crazy high pain tolerance,” said Four, eyeing Wind’s sore hand and then Time’s reddened cheek. “That fight would’ve turned ugly fast.”

A scowl smeared across Legend’s lips. “There’s no guarantee that Wild would win-”

“You’re missing the point,” Four fiercely retorted. “Think about it! What’s the use of beating each other up to bloody pulps over someone we don’t even know and who may not even be in trouble?”

“This is all Wild’s fault?” Wind’s small voice rang out like the tentative swing of a bell. “He just left us?”

Sky cast him a sympathetic glance. “You shouldn’t be too surprised, he was very determined last night. Even threatened to take the Master Sword without my permission.”

“He never asks for permission anyway!” The small sailor’s face crumpled, his hands absentmindedly playing with the grass at his feet. “I thought it was just Wild being Wild- like sure he tugged really hard at the sword when I tried to get him to cook, but he settled down soon enough after. That was just a spur of the moment thing.”

“Yeah, he seemed fine at dinner,” Hyrule echoed.

“Exactly,” Legend said nodding at him. “He didn’t want to fight you when you offered that challenge, and I was watching him all throughout the evening until I fell asleep. He didn’t do anything that made me think he was gonna try anything.”

“In hindsight he was too well behaved,” Warriors said, arms akimbo. “There is the issue that we all coincidentally fell asleep really suddenly and woke up hours late. If it wasn’t a spell like we initially thought, then what was it?”

“It was this.” Time heaved the large pot lid aside and draw from it a half full ceramic bowl. “He poured a sleeping potion into the pot. The purple mixed with the orange to make the soup slightly off colour and made it smell sweet- that’s what Twilight picked up on.”

A stunned silence shook through the group. The grey clouds blocking the sun had seemed to be darkening in colour, as if more were gathering to scorn the group’s naivety. To watch them untangle this petty web of deception.

Although Time understood their disbelief and inner conflict, he was surprised that none of them were considering that Wild had given them all an invaluable gift. A perfect night’s rest. Such a peaceful night’s sleep wasn’t a necessity for people like them but a luxury. They got to sleep soundly while he went off alone into the wilderness.

Despite the champion’s less than noble intensions, the outcome tells Time that there really wasn’t much harm in letting Wild go. Yes, he didn’t regret it at all.

“…and that bastard lied through his teeth,” muttered Legend, his voice a hushed whisper, but in the quiet sounded louder than a horn. “Was he mocking us?”

“Here I thought the rancher was just being particular, all stuck in his ways and whatnot.” Warriors followed his example and thought aloud. Letting whatever immediately come to mind spill out in a barely coherent stream. “That’s why- no, I should’ve…”

“Yes, I am somewhat surprised Captain,” Time ventured stepping towards him. “I thought that you of all people would be the most wary about-”

“Not a friend! I trust him with my life, I shouldn’t have to think like that with him- with any of you.” He had walked close enough for Warriors to see that there was still a pool of the wretched soup still lingering in the bowl. Without warning he battered it out of the Time’s hand and grabbed his collar, jerking him forward so harshly the grubby fabric threatened to tear. “You saw him do it. Forget letting him go after we all fell asleep, I can buy that a fight between the two of you could have gone either way, but you could have told us what he did! Right there as he was serving all our bowls you could have said something!”

“I was half expecting one of you to. Wild’s never been good at being subtle.” Time said. He’d meant it as an honest observation but in only seemed to anger the group more. Perhaps that potion was still having its effects on him; in truth he couldn’t feel bothered enough to take their rage seriously.

“I saw too, and I think Sky did as well,” Wind admitted, hanging his head. “I thought it was just part of the recipe.”

“Same here.” Sky mirrored his tone. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wasn’t completely sure,” Time admitted. “You’re right Captain, he was very docile last night. At first I thought that bottle was to help soothe the pain of our injuries.”

“But he didn’t have any of it!” Four burst out. Though he tried to play it off as part of the interrogation, the stares from his teammates showed it was obvious that had only just occurred to him. “Uh, you didn’t find that strange?”

“We didn’t…” Hyrule’s small voice reminded them.

Time stretched out, letting his head roll to the side as he rubbed out a kink in his neck. “I was a quarter into my bowl before I realised that-”

“You had some?!” cried Legend. “Knowing what it was?!”

Warriors eyes grew wide and he felt his heart drop. “Who was keeping watch the entire night?”

“I did.” Time didn’t miss a beat in easing the worried glances of all the eyes on him. “That stuff’s good, but not strong enough to do me any favours.”

That didn’t seem to quell the unease, furrowed brows and upturned lips still faced the Hero of Time. Sky decided to be their voice, eying their leader up and down before asking, “Did you sleep at all then?”

“Sure.” An answer he was more than used to saying. Disregarding the doubtful stares, he set about clearing up his bedroll, urging the others to clean up too. “Now look, there’s no rush but after this mess is dealt with we need to find Wild. Everyone pack up and get ready to head out. Except you Hyrule, can you and Twilight see if you can rustle up some sort of breakfast?”

“Yeah okay,” Hyrule said, holding back a frown when Wind whispered, “Make it edible,” as he walked past. He went over to the cooking pot and relit it, only to remember: “Wait guys, Twilight’s not back yet-”

“I’ll call him.” Legend sighed and trundled over to where his stuff had been neatly lain out by Four and Warriors during their investigation. He rummaged through a particularly small bag, as the others were doing their own thing around him, and pulled out-

“Is that a dog whistle?!”

Wind’s screech was almost loud and high pitched enough to render the item in question useless. He stared at it, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets either due to sheer surprise or the strain of holding in his laughter. The entire camp was struggling to keep their composure, even Time had the smallest curl of his lips.

Four sucked in the air through his teeth, head shaking slowly. “He’s not gonna like that…”

“That’s what he gets for running off.” Legend shrugged, holding the shiny instrument between two fingers. “If only this worked on champion.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! Next chapter will probably be the last one, and a long one :)

Masterlist

Smoke Signal part 1

Smoke Signal part 2

Smoke Signal part 3

Recovered Regrets

Story notes:

Warriors has been drugged before. Not by someone close to him, it was part of a plot by some thieves to knock out all of the guards and knights on duty before stealing the Royal Family’s treasures. He found out about the potion a little too late and was slow to stop them, but it worked out in the end. Took a bit of a toll on his psyche though. Until now he’s worked on lowering his walls and dropping some of his old habits and way of thinking to better connect with the group. Wild’s betrayal may or may not have undone some of that progress

Poor Time, all the potion did to him was make him relax a little. As he said it wasn’t strong enough to affect him. He’s built up quite a tolerance for that kind of stuff

Legend has all sorts in his inventory, I don’t think that a dog whistle is much of a stretch. Up until now only Four and Twilight knew he had one

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katyspersonal · 2 years

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How about 4,6,7, and 8 for Brador Church Assassin for the headcanon thing?

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

Thank you very much for the ask, I in fact did not even realise I had so many ideas about Brador before I got to talk about him like this! Going to put it under cut as 4 asks are Enough! This is my second attempt to reply to this because first one outright evaporated because of a random glitch.

4) Physical headcanons (sleeping habits, favourite food, all that)

It is a no-brainer, but Brador’s upper body is full of bruises from frequent Bloodletter usage. It is so purple it must hurt to even just look at. He at this rate, however, hardly notices the pain and could stab himself in the same spot for many times in the row. Because of the nature of Bloodletter, common ‘healing’ blood shots do not heal wounds from it specifically very much, if at all.

Brador used to keep himself and his belongings extremely neat and clean, to not stain Laurence’s eminence with his dirty presence. His costume, under the beast cloak? That is indeed his clothes ever since he arrived in Yharnam, and just until the terrible day he had to kill Laurence he never got it bloodied beyond the point of cleaning, or torn beyond the point of patching up. Back then he rarely bothered to wear something else if for the safety alone during the hunts, not even when he had to deal with beasts and not his usual... “work”. He was confident in being quick and precise enough to not ruin the outfit too much! XD Sometimes he’d even lift his shirt and vest to avoid the Bloodletter stab sprinkling it with blood.

He has a very thick hair! Broke several hairbrushes during his life. It is one thing he could never get quite slick and neat, but all in all his hair being a bit disorderly only added to the appearance.

Upon his self-isolation, Brador undergone the ritual that practically immortalised an image, a ‘version’ of him as he was in the day he killed Laurence. I am yet to decide on the specifics of the ritual, but I figure it is similar to what was done with Byrgenwerth’s Gatekeeper (who still has his spirit guard the door even long after his death, as we know). It chipped away many of his physical needs though, so he lived Enough in seemingly inhuman conditions in his cell. To effectively transcend the ‘real’ world and travel between its cracks and even into Nightmare if he will, Brador needed to be asleep or in deep trance, so he used to sleep almost all the time back in his cell. This requirement disappeared when his physical body died and both versions of him became part of the Nightmare, naturally.

Brador was already no stranger to needing long fat naps and being fatigued though, as he had long ago developed iron deficiency anemia. Yes, because of his weapon! It sucks out the blood from his body to crystallise it, like what happens with blood gems or Frenzy spears, and no amount of extra sips Healing Church would allow him despite ‘one vessel until you run out’ rule could fix this. He’s been known for his sickly skin color and cold hands for as long as anyone remembers. I swear, his great movements coordination and readiness to fight at any time of any day were supported by the sheer power of his loyalty!

Without his weapon, Brador would have never developed it on his own, as his favorite foods just happen to be all the ones rich in iron! Spinach, nuts, dark chocolate, sea food, apples... Weird coincidence, but whatever food is known for being rich in iron he just happens to enjoy it the most! Also remember bowls full of squids in Fishing Hamlet? These are just his normal breakfasts xD Well, used to be. After he locked himself underground and obtained phantoms, his only meal became Blood Echoes he obtained from slain enemies of the Healing Church in his ‘travels’. He could still eat normal food at least for the flavour, but he permanently lost appetite past that point.

He also used to enjoy red wine quite often when it was still A Product, but in small amounts as he is somewhat of a lightweight and would feel embarrassed if anyone saw a servant of Laurence being a drunk mug!

In the prime of his powers, Brador was able to hear any sort of ‘strange’ bells in his trance through time and space, even those of Bellringing Women and Hunters’ summoning spirits for the help. Sounds insanity-inducing, but he was an expert in navigating towards the right call, really! There is a very good reason why so far nobody but Simon and the player discovered the Healing Church’s secret; because once Brador’d set eyes on his goal, that person only needed to as much as run past a Bellringing Woman somewhere in the dungeons - and he’d respond to her call to appear and slaughter them! He misses the weird trips into realms of sounds that transcend dimensions, though - it became impossible after he physically died. Now it is just his own bell and some godly babies crying, ffs.

I said he used to be a neat person, but his fingernails received a special treatment - he never trimmed them with the tools. Instead, he used to just bite them into right shape xD They were always so neat though! But if anyone found out about this habit, Brador would feel very embarrassed.

6) Psychological headcanons (tastes, fears, talents, regrets, how they deal with anger, just anything that comes to mind on the topic)

Brador believes that fools do not become smart if they are given enough knowledge - instead, they become dangerous fools. I am pretty sure a variation of this phrase should be his favorite quote at some point. So everyone should know their place and there is no need for people to know more than what they need to know to fulfill their roles in this world. This sort of elitism is similar to what Willem ended up developing in the end, hiding Arcane horrors from the ‘unprepared’, ‘undeserving’ world with Rom, but Brador already had this attitude since much earlier.

Since Brador believes everyone has their place, he sure knows his, and that is below Laurence. It is quite hard to earn Brador’s respect but he knows a superior he could trust when he meets one. As result, his loyalty is undying, the amount of things he is willing to do as tool in hands of Laurence is endless, the benefits of the doubts he is willing to give are incredible. It is not quite blind love as he can clearly see vices and imperfections, but he is still willing to stay by the side of someone whose job is to decide his fate and others’. Basically if you prove yourself as much as equal to him, he will make an incredibly loyal friend (good luck with that though!)

No, honestly, it is scary how much Brador would be able to take if someone he holds in high regard was to mistreat him. Guess only his hard-to-pass filter protects him.

As if to foreshadow his fate that is tied with the sound, Brador always experienced a very acute need in hearing something. Anything. If no one was to talk, he’d make sure water is tapping, door is creaking, caged birds are singing, wind is howling, engine is working. He’d hum to himself or laugh for no reason, after all. He’d take falling asleep listening to literal gunshots than in complete silence, absence of distinct noises is very unnerving and uncomfortable for him. In the silence his thoughts become too loud, too ‘alien’, and he starts to question if the monologues in his head are his own or someone else’s, even.

The state of his phantom alter is in sort of arrested development as Brador (and the Healing Church in general) *needed* that loyal, fanatical version of his in its prime to protect the secrets. If his ‘real’ self was to commit massive shift in his beliefs and loyalty, he’d have a HELLISH time trying to come to terms with that, former-but-living version of his. Lucky that he never changed much nor wants to, huh? :P

He had an eating quirk in which he could not eat food simple and raw. It had to be cooked, even minimally so. Just at least some basic manipulation with the products, like frying them or chopping them into a salad! If the first food he seen in days was like, a single potato bulb, he would either cut away a piece of his coat to ignite it and cook it with fire or die from starvation. Not that it matters anymore.

His special talent is not cooking, though! He is decent at best. Instead, his talent is being extremely practical with what he is given. Without thinking or knowing much, he can throw together something good. His survival skills? None and absolute at the same time. He also invented Bloodletter himself from seemingly ridiculous things - some rugs, some sticks, a brain of one of the Bloodletting beasts they killed in the dungeons. Like, you ever heard a comical exaggeration along the lines of ‘they can assemble a supercomputer using only sticks, rocks and dirt’? This fits him. Brador is a rare person that can compete with Gehrman in being able to assemble like, some random stuff they find in garbage into a groundbreaking weapon or transport.

Brador had good touch in Fashion TM, too! He is the mind behind many if not all clothes of the Healing Church, however this one is a joint effort with Ludwig’s demands and Laurence’s sense of style. But if they did not have Brador, ‘aesthetic’ is where their clothes would start and end and screw the hunters over! Like you know, same energy as the guys behind critically impractical fantasy armour? Brador’s constructive criticism was needed.

As for looking for loooooove interests, or rather affairs (past the point Brador married his job), he gravitates towards people that could make him laugh consistently. Be it funny jokes, laugher of being amused with their audacity, their unintentional silliness, sadistic laugher or, God forbid, laugher of true happiness. It is like a passing test - after person has proven that he can laugh with them, he can consider how attractive the rest of them is. He is a rather jaded, sad person, and laugher feels like the closest thing to healing.

Brador cannot get scared or startled, for him fear is replaced with things like ‘concern’ or ‘tension’. Even if you literally explode something next to him, the most he will do is to flinch a bit - and be ready to fight next instance! He explains it with “not caring whether he lives or dies” which is clearly not truth seeing how proactive and collected he gets even in critical situations. If he does happen to have a phobia of something (spiders, heights, you name it) - he makes sure to keep exposing himself to it until he is able to stomach it. Gotta remain stoic (dead inside)!

8) Made-up connections with other characters that weren't in the canon (friends, enemies, whatever)

Not skipping 7th ask, just answering 8th first because I mixed the order upon making that ask meme! Answers to 8 just might naturally lead to 7.

Caryll - The one Brador used to interact with often back then when he got to become a staff in Byrgenwerth! They were interested in the idea of putting Runes into more practical use, like carrying them on objects like bells or clocks, as Brador was inventive with the objects and Caryll was... well, Caryll. They used to be just working partners, however she did make him blush more than once with her motherly attitude. “Today's weather is harsh, wear a hat since no one will care about your ‘handsome’ hairstyle when you’re sneezing and coughing!” “You stay away from the ladder, you seem like you could faint any time!” They got to remain coworkers upon moving closer to Healing Church faction under care of Laurence and Ludwig, but their relationship became very strained by then as he had to watch Caryll to not spill their secrets too much. Being truly close friends was no longer an option as Brador prefers to keep the knowledge to those that deserve it, but Caryll was nearly ready to teach every peasant of Yharnam the runes language!

Simon - Addressed this one in this ( x ) post sorta, but yes, I think they used to know each other prior, and already were suspicious of one another. Did not help that Caryll is Simon’s aunt so any moment family bonds could have played their role. Brador kept dropping Simon hints to not question his job and to not go around trusting “wrong people” as “the Church has many enemies”. Yet whenever he tried to have an actual, substantial talk with him, Simon would suddenly see his friend from far away and rush towards them, or remember an important thing he needed to do, or ‘accidentally’ break a vase and hurry to find a broom. You get the drill. It was very amusing but whereas for Simon Brador became this permanent object of paranoia that appeared in his nightmares, for Brador Simon was just one of the troublesome people. However he had Simon know about his anger with himself for having underestimated the annoying brat that he was before killing him for the first time.

Maria - Again, technically it was in the canon, just too vague and open-ended. They were barely interacting in Byrgenwerth, but became closer upon foundation of Research Hall. They both were Clocktower Hunters (a currently gone covenant), tasked with hunting not only beasts but ‘troublemakers’, too, although they’d sometimes butt heads since Brador was looking for victims and Maria hoped most of them would lose curiosity on their own before she has to murder them. Their frienship was not without casual ranting to their other friends about each other, behind their backs. However, Brador always respected her skills, manners and instincts. He was the one to get the word from her to Laurence and Willem when she could not have shaken the suspicion that the doctors met the deadend with the ‘ocean’, and that Micolash knew and did not have humanity’s best interests in mind.

Adeline - Brador thinks she is a lost case, willing to become a part of whatever horrors of the sea driven other patients up the wall is a textbook insanity. He also has personal bitterness towards her for leaving Laurence’s side as Blood Saint in her pursuit for ‘suicide quest’ and would find himself barely restricting himself from telling Maria to give up already. And now he is restricting himself from telling Maria it was “not her fault Adeline was crazy” whenever Maria starts blaming herself for Adeline’s fate. Brador knows Maria did enough, cared enough, said enough, there is just only so much you can do when another person doesn’t accept it. Basically, his opinion on Adeline is bitter and unflattering.

Yamamura - Brador liked the guy since day one, he was happy the foreign man who made a fuss with murdering a beast that devastated his lands decided to join the Healing Church hunters! (Besides he was well aware who the beast originally was.) He felt like a young, starry-eyed man again seeing Yamamura, getting excited for the possibility of becoming good friends... until the time he realised Yamamura conversed with Simon all too often, and that he was originally sent by the ‘League’ as an agent. Something just died in Brador. He just shifted to ‘Ah, you are a motherfucker?’ and emotionally distanced, knowing they’ll be enemies sooner or later. However, unlike with Simon, when Brador was trying to throw a threatening shade on Yamamura - he had a bit too much vitriol and passive aggression, more than Yamamura ‘deserved’, he was not sure why so.

7) Ship(s) with them that I like or at least consider

Brador & Laurence, my beloved! I turn full on monkey brain mode whenever I see this ship in any way. Me and @val-of-the-north came up with this upon our loredigging and it is one of our favorites. It is a little imbalanced of course as Brador is a bit too passionate, a bit too ears deep and will abandon everything for Laurence if he has to. Brador would do things for Laurence that he would not do even for his friends, and Laurence would ask him for things he’d hesitate to ask from anyone else. They shared all secrets together. Though me and Val love to joke that this ship never came to fruition because Laurence has been painfully oblivious! Apparently Brador placing flowers in his hair and gazing lovingly, bringing him tea in his bed, giving him hello and goodbye kisses on the cheek, always complimenting him in a genuine manner, making him small gifts on every little occasion etc were just ‘bestie things xD’ for Laurence :’) They could have been having a literal date and Laurence would be just “Oh, yes, hanging out with my FRIEND is so nice!”

Mercy-killing him as a beast was also the means to prove how much he respects what Laurence believed in, that Laurence would never want to continue living as a beast - but would want his aspirations to live on and evolve. However, sometimes Brador visits him as a phantom and talks to him - pretending beast Laurence can understand him, just remains silent.

Brador & Simon. This ship largely depends on what you make out if it, huh? I love the ideas for this ship centring around the concept of them having been lovers before but bitterly breaking apart because of ideologies conflict. Brador loves his job and Simon loves his moral principles more than they love each other, but doesn’t mean they were never ‘happy’! I already said that Simon could not find a solid love interest even beyond his 30s as he is very inert, reactive, unenthusiastic and shy? But Brador would have the persistence it takes to make Simon come out of his shell, he knows some people need time to warm up. Simon has had a built up paranoia towards Brador for a long time even before their current situation and Brador would’ve been very flattered to find out he has been so ‘special’ for Simon all these years, whereas for him Simon was just one of the many curious little idiots roaming around.

They would be able to have very long, deep, interesting talks with each other as Simon loves ruminating the same problem for 99th time instead of coming to the conclusion and dumping it, and Brador is used to giving good advices nobody will listen to anyway but he likes to suggest. They also both love to ‘invent’ things and come up with wildest ideas - just two of them would’ve been enough to organise their own hunters workshop. Besides Simon loves talking about himself (when he is comfortable!) and Brador likes keeping his reservations, so they’d balance each other. The hard part though, would be to sleep in the same room; Brador can’t handle the silence, but Simon flinches in fear at the slightest noise at night! Other underwater rocks is that Brador killed Simon and had hand in imprisoning Yamamura and Gratia, type of ship that would never work out had the setting been a bit less crazy. At this rate just so many weird things happened in this world that people are much more likely to unite under strange circumstances, despite clashing pasts.

Brador & Maria. I just like the idea tbh! I did say Brador felt bitter because of Maria blaming her for things that were either beyond her control or too late to regret, right? That whole ‘she deserved better’ could have easily evolved in admiration and seeing virtues of Maria that she herself fails to see (just like Adeline tbh), but Brador is a bit more determined on being taken seriously. He’d however have a slight struggle accepting that whenever he wanted to defend Maria, to the moment he’s ready she’d already smash the threat into a wall with her fist alone, or that she is the one to gift him a flower as romantic gesture before he even thinks of doing the same. He’d just feel a bit useless as a partner for her! That is, until emotionally vulnerable moments. He has many similarities with Gehrman (I am sure they even share an MBTI), that includes being a bit of a dumbass with feelings of guilt and regret he personally considers irrational. But whereas with Gehrman this attitude once turned as failure to understand and support Maria enough before too late, Brador has a better grip on understanding when he’s being a cold uncaring brick and actually listening. Brador would just know when Maria’s pain gets the best of her, and when to shut up with ‘logic and reason’ and just give her a hug - he has been restricting himself despite his bitter opinion on Adeline seeing Maria’s reasoning, after all! Maria, in turn, would let him feel safe and dare I say, ‘babysitted’, in a way Brador never knew he needed haha

#bloodborne #brador church assassin #bloodborne headcanons #ask replies #use later #fandomry rambles

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adultswim2021 · 2 years

Text

The Venture Bros. #21: “Victor. Echo. November.” | August 13, 2006 – 10:30PM | S02E06

I mix this one up with a couple other episodes, and this one is ironically one I consider forgettable by virtue of the fact that I forgot about it. But: It's great! I don’t remember disliking it, even. I go back and forth between mixing it up with Twenty Years To Midnight and the one where The Monarch is making a prostitute do Saw stuff.

This is the one where the boys go out on a double-date with Triana and her friend Kim. Dean of course pines for Triana and their relationship does not progress, thank god. The weirdos who want Triana to legitimately wind up with Dean are weirdos. She should lez out with her friend Kim obviously. Anyway, the girls are just there for a free meal and to do a favor for her dad whose trying to curry favor with Dr. Venture after being late on rent. By happenstance, Phantom Limb, Dr. Girlfriend, The Monarch and his date he found on livejournal are also going on something of a double-date to hash things out AT THE SAME RESTAURANT!!!

This episode is basically about dudes trying to impress chicks. Phantom Limb puts a hit out on the Ventures basically to piss off the Monarch and to impress Dr. Girlfriend who disrespects his pedestrian attempts at villainy (unloading stolen paintings onto rich jagoffs). 21 and 24 are also there for some reason.

This one has a great running bit where people speculate about Phantom Limb and Billy Quizboy's past relationship, a bit of backstory that will be explored in season three. Here it's more-or-less a running gag. The joke-to-lore pipeline is real, everyone.

This one has legitimately great mix of character-driven comedy and good-ass action scenes. The part towards the end when Brock and Phantom Limb shake hands is so good even though it's almost unironically plucked from a Clint Eastwood movie or something. Brock says something like “for a second there I thought you were going to do your killer electric shock thing” and Phantom Limb chuckles and says “so did I”. One of the best things Venture Bros. does is genuinely make your heart soar for pure schlock. If only I could do the same thing for mediocre TV recaps.

EPHEMERA CORNER

Sealab 2021 - Volume 4 DVD (August 8, 2006)

I remember being disappointed in several things about this release. First and foremost was that I was buying it. Second was that it was in a traditional plastic keep case instead of a digipack like the other season sets (Brak Show Volume 2, which came out the same day, was a similar deal). The third was that I cared about the last thing.

Why even buy this? Season 1 had all the best episodes, season 2 had only a handful, and season 3 had maybe one. I guess you just finish off the series with volume 4 because why not? Do I REALLY need an extra SRP $24.99 in my pocket that badly? Wait, I've been in huge amounts of debt for the last 5 years of my life, and actually could use an extra SRP $24.99? WHAT?

Anyway, this came out, and I got it because I'm a sucker.

Here’s a thing I did once: when I ran out of shelfspace for DVDs rather than pare down I’d often collapse it into more compact packaging wherever I could. This would involve purchasing cases that held 4 discs, 2 overlapping on each side, and then buying bare double-sided disc sleeves. So at one point my entire series collection of Sealab was actually contained in one of these cases, holding all 8 discs in one box using this cover art. “Why do you only have Season 4 of Sealab?” people would ask, if I let any of them near me or my perfect DVD collection. Only a couple people ever got to know the depth of my mental illness. One of them married me for some reason.

MAIL BAG:

What was the last movie you rented out a movie theater for a private screening for? Was it Bug Wars: Battle Evolution?

I have never done this, actually, but there is a somewhat affordable one I could rent out at Movie Madness in Portland. I need to make some friends first, though.

Just wondering if you are gonna cover Bug Wars: Battle Evolution on here since Matt Mallerio did ones of the voices on it. I know it's a stretch but if enough people give a "like" to your write up on it we may just get a Bug Wars 2.

Doing everything I can to ignore the Bug Wars content in your posts, I don’t know what that is and I don’t care to know. Anyway, I like Matty M’s voice, he’s the voice of Mouse :)

Okay, I spelled Maiellaro wrong in my last message to you. I"M SORRY, but the truth is I DONT RESPECT him. I don't even respect Bug Wars: Battle Evolution I just want a sequel because I know my babysitter will take me to it and I want to get into her blouse/pussy.

You are going to love blussy my fat fingered friend

I think John C. Reilly is more known for doing comedies will Will Ferrell than anything he did with Tim and Eric. Goodbye.

No shit, moron, fuck off!

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #the venture bros.

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sandersidesfan101 · 1 year

Text

(A DSMP and my character cross over) ghostly friends

Wilbur meets Hunter another ghost in Limbo and see’s Hunter’s Limbo is at this point driving the guy insane. Wilbur remembers how he would calm Tommy and wants to see if it works on Hunter, with Hunters permission of course.

Wilbur was sitting in the train station again bored as always, before he felt a door behind him and he turned his head around. A new door was there and Wilbur got up and put a hand on the door handle. ‘It’s warm..’ he thought after being nothing but cold for the past decade, he turned the handle and his eyes widened with what- or who he saw. He saw another person.. well to be clear a phantom but it was a person! He saw the guy in clear detail after blinking a bit, he looked like he was nearly 18. The boy has bright blond hair but Wilbur couldn’t see his eyes, Wilbur got closer and closed the door, “Let me out! I didn’t want this! I don’t deserve this..” the boy first yelled, Wilbur heared his voice was horse and he saw the guy fall to his knees holding his hands to his chest.

Wilbur slowly got closer, he didn’t know if this guy was a threat or not.. but he almost looked like Tommy. The boy turned to see Wilbur.. ‘he’s not human.’ Wilbur thought as he saw pure black eyes, he looked like Herobrine but if Herobrine was blond with black eyes instead of white, Wilbur saw black tears coming down those void eyes.. but also a crack? Wilbur looked confused when he saw the crack before feeling the ground shake and he was knocked off his feet, Wilbur felt a sharp pain on his back when he fell. ‘right.. the scar.’ the thought remembering his death before he saw the guy above him. “Who are you.” the boy’s voice echoed, Wilbur looked him dead in the eyes “Wilbur Soot.” he said with his horse voice he said somehow loud. “Your in Limbo.. how did you get here?!” the guys sounded excited Wilbur looked at him. “I’m dead, but I’m not sure how I got into your limbo.” he said and he sat up, he does act like when Tommy’s excited.

“What’s your name?” Wilbur said, the guy looked at him “Oh my names Hunter.” Wilbur nodded but then saw memories of Hunter having breakdowns in Limbo crying for hours and him never sleeping. Wilbur’s big brother instances kicked in and he pulled Hunter onto him and gently brushed though his hair untangling it. Hunter just broke into tears and cried into Wilbur’s coat shoulder shaking. They sat in peaceful quiet when Wilbur thought of something, “Want to see what I use to do with my brother to calm him Hunter?” Hunter looked at him and nodded softly. Wilbur softly traced Hunter’s sides and Hunter let out a surprised gasp before bursting out into child like giggles Wilbur softly smiled.

Wilbur keeped it up for a few more minutes before he saw that Hunter fell asleep and he just sat there to protect the poor boy.

0 notes

five-rivers · 2 years

Note

*looks intently at you* You do realise you can't give us a Walker-has-to-manage-blob-Phantom plot hook and not follow up on it, right?

This is one option for that, but I don't know if this is what I'd use to make it a full story (like, when I originally wrote the last piece, Danny's struggling is because he's trying not to transform). Anyway...

Danny had a lot of problems with the 'powers' the accident had given him. Mainly, that they were less 'useful powers' and more 'ironic curse.' It wasn't bad enough that he would, without warning, slip out of phase with reality, losing, in turn, visibility, solidity, and weight, but he was also periodically forced to turn into a tiny ghost with the general shape and consistency of a jelly-filled balloon.

That, at least, he had warning for. A slow, steady build up of not-quite-pressure and not-quite-electricity to the point of almost-pain over the course of days, culminating in a schism of light and an echo of agony.

He'd been getting better at controlling it, at releasing that energy when he was somewhere safe, like at Sam or Tucker's house, and, after it passed, pulling himself back together. He hadn't really wanted to practice with it, but Sam had insisted. It helped a little that both she and Tucker thought that the shape he was forced into was 'kind of cute' rather than an 'abomination of ectoplasm and post-human consciousness,' which is what his parents had called it the one time he had the misfortune to be spotted by them in that shape.

Stupidly, he'd thought that his practice would be useful, but no. Maybe he'd been able to get out of those chains, but he'd been caught literally seconds after. And now this stupid ghost body he'd been forced into was responding to the firm, steady pressure of Walker's giant hand with instinctive docility. Walker was big. Walker was strong. Walker radiated ectoplasmic power like a bonfire radiated heat. Walker could squish him to bits whenever he wanted.

Walker - and, admittedly, Danny's ability to read faces suffered when he was like this - looked like he was having a crisis. The fact he had his head on his desk seemed to support that.

Tentatively, Danny tried to bite Walker again. As before, he was foiled by the man's gloves.

Walker picked himself up and started looking through his desk. After a few minutes, he retrieved a jar from the back of a drawer.

Danny squeaked in alarm and tried to squirm away. In another few minutes, when he was recovered, he might have tried to transform back and break Walker's grip, but if he was put in a jar like that? He wouldn't dare risk it. He didn't know if the transformation would break it or... not.

"Don't give me that," growled Walker. "If I could trust you to stay put, I wouldn't have to." He unscrewed the lid one handed, inserted Danny with something approaching gentleness, then slammed the lid back on and rapidly screwed it closed.

Danny squeaked again, glad that he didn't need to breathe when he was like this, because it looked like Walker wasn't going to poke any holes in that lid.

He pooled sadly in the bottom of the jar, his stubby tail lashing with anxiety. He knew that his thought process tended to shift the longer he was like this, to the point where Sam and Tucker had a hard time getting him to turn back after their 'endurance test.' They weren't here. How long would Walker leave him in this? His whole 'sentence?' Would Danny even last that long in a little jar like this? He didn't have to breath. Did he have to eat? He didn't know.

Walker was carrying the jar. Where was he taking him?

Lashing his tail in anxiety had morphed into a whole-body ripple. This evolved to pure, keening, panic when Walker opened a door and Danny saw, warped by the walls of his glass prison, the characteristic equipment of an infirmary.

Oh, no, they were going to dissect him. They'd found out how much of a freak he was and they were going to pull him apart.

However, his all-encompassing panic was overtaken by a novel sensation. Something calming. Filling? Good. Something good that traveled through the glass beneath him and hit him in gentle waves that made him wiggle. This was good. This was nice.

Very distantly, the part of him that was familiar with the more technical, theoretical side of ectology recognized that he must have been placed on a source of ectoenergy the he was now... feeding on.

There was a grinding sound from above, and he looked up. The lid had been taken off. He'd wanted to go that way before. Why? He wasn't sure. The happy feeling was down here. He wasn't going to leave the good happy feeling.

A spoon full of something green was lowered into the jar. Ectoplasm! It got close enough to Danny that he didn't have to move away from the happy feeling to lick it clean. It was tasty and green. There was something else in it, though. Like an instruction, maybe.

The instruction was something very much like 'fall asleep.' So he did.

"What's the damage, doc?" asked Walker.

"Not much," said the prison doctor, washing his hands. "Malnourished, maybe. Fairly complex thought for someone at this stage of formation, but that might be 'cause he's a halfa or whatever you wanna call 'em." He turned off the sink and reached for a towel.

"Not what I meant."

"Yeah, I know. Kid isn't more than a few months old at the outside, and he's an actual kid on top of that. Probably not even a little over his death yet."

"Crap," said Walker. "What're we supposed to do with this? I run a prison." Not a great place for babies, all told.

The doctor shrugged. "Dunno that you have much choice."

"I don't know if I can even keep him here, if I let him out of that jar."

"Then you'll just have to keep catchin' him, I guess. Or, we've got those shapeshifter bracelets, for that Amorpho fellow. Maybe we can put one of those on? Round the main body part, maybe? Since he doesn't have hands?"

"He'd phase through when he turns human," grumbled Walker.

"Weld it to those specialty chains you've got or something. Gotta do something, right? He isn't going to learn how to be a ghost in the human world." The doctor snorted. "Maybe that's why he's so small, though. Trying to stay over there."

"Ancients," said Walker, rubbing his face. "He beat Plasmius. Bunch of the inmates here, too. He probably doesn't even know what an Obsession is. He already hates me. This is going to be hell."

"Eh. There are worse afterlives."

#danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill

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allmightluver · 3 years

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**bnha spoilers** I'm just sat here with renewed realisation of what All Might is going through. 40 years. /40 years/ he held and refined that power and dedicated his every waking (and sleeping if Vigilantes is anything to go by) moment towards the goal of defeating AfO and creating a society in which people could feel happy and safe. And now as it turns out AfO is still alive, society is broken and he has given a literal piece of his soul to this young boy leaving himself with only phantoms

Yes. I don’t think people quite grasp what all he’s going through.

It’s been shown recently to us that some, if not most, heroes have underlying ambitions in becoming a hero. Whether for money, glory, fame, popularity, doesn’t matter. They’re ultimately in it for themselves. Toshinori’s intentions from the beginning have been the most pure- he wanted to be a symbol that people can look to and know things will be ok. A symbol of hope. This boy was only around 14 years old when he decided this. What kind of 14 year old sees the world that clearly? Sees that people have no hope, that a veil of darkness covers them. The only thing I can think of is- Toshinori did not have a good childhood. Something had to have happened to a boy that young to stop seeing the joy in life so early, and see the world’s flaws. Truthfully, I believe he was an outcast- due to his quirklessness. Most likely an orphan, perhaps abandoned by his parents, as we’ve never seen him have any family. I do truly believe Toshinori has been alone all his life. I don’t doubt more could have happened to him as a child before he met Nana.

Some may argue that Izuku is the same age, and therefore it shouldn’t be that hard to see why Toshinori wanted to be a hero at such a young age. BUT, Izuku had someone to look up to, ever since he was a child of four years old, to inspire him to be a hero his whole life *cough cough* All Might. Izuku also was quirkless, much like Toshinori, and an outcast because of it (hence where I assume Toshinori was much the same). But ultimately, Izuku wanted to save people because he saw his hero do it. It really wasn’t until Izuku was a bit older, has been in UA, has been on rescue missions, has seen what the heroes see, that I think he’s truly realized how dark the world really is. Toshinori didn’t have that. He didn’t have someone to inspire him as a child, someone to look up to, a hero to inspire him to help others. At that time, heroes hadn’t become as popular as they are in present times. Toshinori saw the world for what it was, on his own, at a tender age. I think that day Nana ran into this blonde hair kid, she eyed him up, noticed his scraggly form, looked into those captivating blue eyes, and saw a man who’s lived through the world’s horrors- experienced the worst it has to offer-, and wants to save everyone he can from the same fate, all in a 14 year old boy.

Then after only a few short years with the woman he saw as his mother, she’s killed in front of him because of his own weakness- he wasn’t strong enough yet to protect her. The only other person his life, Gran Torino, literally abused him. He beat him to a pulp, taking his own emotions out on a teenager, and I doubt Toshinori said anything of it. He probably thought he deserved it. He’s still afraid of Gran Torino to this day, remembering the beatings and expecting more for his failures- even if he doesn’t know what they are surely he’s at fault for something, but he’s the only person who’s stood by his side for this long. Even while at a distance, and spouting nothing but criticisms along the way. But Toshinori had to put aside his own emotions to be that hope for everyone. He left everything he knew to go to a new country on his own, to learn how to be a hero, to be that hope for someone.

Vigilantes showed us just how hard he worked. Toshinori literally stayed awake with no sleep for days on end- 3 in the chapter I’m referencing- because people needed help, people needed saving, and no one else stepped up. He fought villains, rescued civilians, repaired damage, cleared rubble, (even accept and eat food that was against his dietary restrictions after his injury) whatever the public needed, all while draining himself further. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion because he had no help, once literally falling asleep while mid-leap across the city because he simply could go no further.

^^These happen in succession of each other^^

No one stepped up to say “Hey, Mr. Number 1, you’ve been working hard lately. Let me help you!” No one tried to take over his position. Even the Number 2 hero, Endeavor, never tried to take some of his burden. His only goal was to try to be better than All Might in terms of power- he was never trying to be the hero that the people relied on All Might for. Everyone relied on him when things looked grim. He was the back up plan. And all of this happened before Toshinori’s injury.

The only thing he ever wanted to do- help people- he can’t do (at least the way he’s always known how to). The ability to save people has been taken from him in the most gruesome way. He was finally able to fight the man that killed Nana, and in a rage that I’m sure echoed with all of the emotions of the previous users, he smashed that man’s head like a grape. But not without consequence. Several organs are gone. The pain is excruciating. He wears that man’s mark on his body for the rest of his life, never truly able to rid himself of the filth.

Then we have Nighteye’s betrayal. The man that helped him as a sidekick, the man that grew to be his only friend. Now some people may ask why Toshinori flipped like he did to Nighteye looking into his future when he was concerned about him making it through his injury. What I believe is Toshinori didn’t want to know when he would die (and really, who does). Now he knows he’s on a time limit, knows the clock is ticking. Time is running out to keep the world at peace, and with him as he is now, how long can this go on?

I think the betrayal, doing something that Toshinori specifically asked him not to do, is what hurt the most. How can he trust Nighteye anymore? He already can only count on one hand the people he can trust, let alone befriend.

He’s wasted away into a skeleton, a shell of the man he used to be. He can’t over exert himself without his only lung bleeding in protest. It’s canon in the side books that he really doesn’t eat much, which isn’t good for his diet without a stomach now (he’s supposed to have several small meals a day). He is quite literally punishing himself by starving. (Granted, he doesn’t feel hunger anymore.) He’s a sick man, beyond medical help at this point. They can only stabilize him and hope for the best. For five years now he’s in constant pain, every day. He loses blood like sweat. Surely his veins are bruised and collapsed with how many times he would have needed to be hospitalized. Whether from losing too much blood, being too dehydrated or starved from “forgetting” to eat, or an organ failing as body continues to fall apart. “...even as my body rots and grows frail...” - Toshinori People are bound to stare at him as he walks down the street. A tall, willowy, skeleton with a grimace on his face and blood stains on his clothes as he coughs up more into his own hands. There would be the ones who outright ignore him when they walk by, the people who offer pitying smiles and sympathetic glances or just outright stare, and then ones who are afraid of his appearance- children screaming at the mere sight of him and running to their parents to hide from the monster. Each one is another knife in Toshinori’s side, an ache in his chest. If only they knew who I really am.

Losing Nighteye took a toll on his hero work as well. Mirai was a huge help in the past, and took care of all Toshinori’s paperwork, while also reminding him to take care of himself. Without him, Toshinori was even more buried beneath his responsibilities. Plus, now he was on a time limit. He even snapped briefly in his first meeting with Tsukauchi, accidentally revealing himself as All Might because he was under too much pressure, and telling the detective he literally couldn’t handle doing everything by himself (who graciously took over the paperwork side of things for him).

He was living a double life now, having to lie to people left and right about who he was while in his small form, about how he became so sickly, why he was here in the first place who the heck is this skinny old guy. Surely he had multiple visits to the doctor while continuing to repair the damage done by AFO (there’s a limit to how much the body can handle at once. And things I’m sure continued to fail as time went on). Then he would be bedridden for as long as the doctors could keep him strapped to a bed, until he couldn’t take the people’s cries for help any longer, and would jump into action. (It’s also revealed he has something of a super hearing- able to hear danger- which may have been a form of danger sense of OFA that was never fully unlocked?. Either way, he surly could sense disasters happening while he could only lay and heal from his latest surgery. Those poor doctors must have had to re-stitch him several times). People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.

People blame him for not being a good teacher. He didn’t exactly have the greatest teacher himself to learn from. He’s never had to teach anyone anything, he just punches! He’s learning. And for his own credit, he’s an incredibly wise man, he has years of experience under his belt, and an intelligence score of 6/6, scoring up there with Nezu! He may not always have the right way to bring something up, but he’s doing his best. Yet even he blames himself for Izuku not being able to control his quirk better. Every time the boy hurts himself, it’s just another tally on the chalkboard of Toshinori’s failures. He himself knows the boy deserves better, better than him. Useless. Pathetic.

Then his friend from America, Dave, essentially became a villain trying to preserve Toshinori’s legacy after Toshinori told him about his injury. Dave went behind his back, threatened people, injured people (pretty sure people died), all for Toshinori’s sake. Something he didn’t want to begin with. Having to put your only other friend in jail for trying to help you surely couldn’t have been easy.

Oh, by the way? All For One isn’t dead. All Might will fight him again, publicly, have his weakened form exposed to the world, and have his own emotions toyed with as he finds out about his master’s grandson in the villain’s hands. Would Nana hate him for leaving her son alone like she’d asked, and dooming her grandchild to be raised by the greatest villain? Could he have done anything to save him? But Toshinori isn’t allowed to feel, he has to smile and push his own feelings aside once again, because there’s a villain to be fought, and only he can fight him. Despite coming out on top, he’ll have suffered severe head trauma, broken left arm, destroyed right arm, and several cuts and bruises that are sure to scar. And then, his quirk, the only thing that’s been allowing him to help people, the gift given to him that he carefully held for 40 years and molded into his own until his very consciousness was permanently carved into it, blows out like a match in the wind. And he’s done. Used up. Empty. Broken. Hollow. Alone, again.

He overhears his student, Bakugo, admit that he blames himself for All Might’s retirement. If he hadn’t been captured, All Might wouldn’t have had to save him, and he wouldn’t have had to fight AFO. Of course Toshinori knows that’s not true, his time was about to run out anyway. It would have happened one way or another. But how can he explain to this child that he wasn’t the cause of his hero, the world’s greatest hero, fighting for his sake, bleeding for his sake, being forced into retirement to keep him safe. Every time Bakugo sees the bandages covering Toshinori’s body is another reminder of the pain and sacrifice Toshinori willingly gave to keep him safe. Toshinori wasn’t held when his mentor died. He wasn’t told it was ok to be sad, that grief and mourning was a natural process, that it takes time to heal. He wasn’t told it was ok to cry. Instead his feelings were beaten out of him as he wondered if Gran Torino blamed him for Nana’s death. He already blamed himself How then, does he comfort a child mourning for him? For what he lost.

And then he gets the call to come to the hospital. Mirai, Nighteye, his old sidekick friend, has been gravely injured, much like he himself was only a few years ago, and most likely won’t survive the night. And to his horror, Nighteye is happy to see him, smiles at him, says he doesn’t hate him for what happened, only wants Toshinori to be happy. He can’t accept that, at least let him apologize, reconcile his sins before it’s too late! But it is. Another fractured piece of his heart gone.

Of course, seeing your students beat up and their arms completely destroyed must have hurt. Instead of being able to save these kids, they’re the ones that hurt themselves to save everyone else. And if Bakugo had kept OFA, things could have been very different (especially with what we know now of OFA and people with quirks). Toshinori wasn’t mad at Izuku for transferring it away, he’d never regret choosing Izuku, and I believe he still would have stayed by Izuku and Bakugo’s side should it have stayed in Bakugo, doing whatever he could to help.

As he tells Aizawa, “I’ve decided to live,” -that statement seems so melancholy, besides obvious reasons. It sounds more like another task he has to accomplish. He didn’t die he was supposed to die with the AFO fight, and now the whole life he lived is over. The world has no use for him anymore. If not for Izuku, he’d have nothing left keeping him here. But because his boy made him promise to live, he’ll do so. Though it almost seems like he says those words with regret. “I’ve decided to live.” Not, “I’m going to live!” “Nothing can kill me!” “I won’t go down without a fight!” No. “I’ll live if I have to, only because you asked me to.” The man is obviously and outwardly depressed. He has so many things against him. No doubt has severe PTSD, anxiety, among others. Not to mention his own physical health. Every day hurts. It’s painful to be alive. Why would he torture himself if he doesn’t have to? For you, my boy. You’re the only thing keeping me here. The only light in my dark world.

He tries to help Izuku find out the previous holder’s quirks, to help his boy in any way he can now that he’s worthless, and goes days on end without sleep, running his body into the ground. He even forgets Christmas. Only to find that by giving the boy the same gift he had received, he may have just doomed him to an early death, among psychological torture (danger detection). (Granted, he really doesn’t know how everything works, and he’s afraid to talk to anyone about it). His boy could live only half a life.

It’s only been a few months since he retired, and society has fallen into shambles. People are blaming him. People are dying. He watches helplessly as his colleague fight his fight for him, and end up battered, bruised, crippled, dead. He students, his boy, battle the monster he should have killed. Children are bleeding. This shouldn’t happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is everything he worked for, everything he fought to protect, to build up, to inspire, is all for naught?! Did he live a foolish dream and doom the world? Was all the the friends he lost, tears he shed, the organs he destroyed, the pain he endures on a daily basis from the hole in his side, and the blood he continues to bleed every day, for nothing? The public, the ones he protected for so long, mourn his absence, but surely there are those among them who also blame him. The statue from his last fight in Kamino one that he never asked for was decimated in a mock of his catch phrase- the one that was supposed to give hope.

Now he can feel his own vestige speaking with Izuku in the OFA realm, even with out OFA in his own body anymore. His clock as nearly reached it’s limit, Nighteye’s prediction is due any day now. The only thing he wants is to see his boy smile at him, to give him some shred of hope. Yet the child remains unconscious, and Toshinori can’t even hold his hand from the bandages covering his arms. Will he still be able to fight? Is there any coming back from this now? Did I break him?

With all Toshinori has been through, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen him just outright break down. Anyone, anyone, else should have crumbled under the pressure of holding up the world for 40 years alone. And instead of being able to pass it on to someone when he can no longer bear its weight, it simply falls to into the abyss. People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.

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lebenspurpur · 2 years

Text

AN: Helloo, I am not dead!! :3

Pairing: Vincent Sinclair x reader

Summary: You enjoy the domestic life with the boys.

Warnings: None, I think, I didn't proof read this, and it's also bad.

Wordcount: 1278 words

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

40s music echoes through the small cinema, happy swing that you can just imagine your grandparents dancing to. It's a bizarre contrast to the corpses, the people encased in wax. Their happy expressions would never be able to showcase the pain they felt during their last few moments.

The latest one is a man. He's tall, taller than you anyway, with dark hair and soft eyes that would melt any person's heart. Well, not anymore you guess.

You and Vincent always called him Jake during his creation process. Not only did he look a typical Jake, he also had the demeanour of a Jake. With that you mean, he played football, he liked to go on frat parties, and he thought hugging his friends was gay. Being gay was the biggest sin ever, at least to him.

Vincent had fun with him anyway. He was ecstatic during the work process, only really leaving the workshop to pass out for a few hours of sleep and then gulp down a can of coffee and an entire pound of grapes.

You helped him carry Jake up to the cinema. Not that he needed help, but you always like to watch him place the latest tourists. He always looks so proud, like a dad sending their kid to school. It was nice seeing Vincent happy and somewhat confident for once.

Right now you're watching your tall lover fret over a small scratch in the wax. It's adorable, seeing him fuss over his art. Vincent is always so focused, so caring when it comes to his work. It's inspiring to see how much work he puts into what he does.

He fixed the scratch already, and is now walking backwards, hands extended to immediately save his new baby, should it randomly fall.

It looks slightly amusing and you giggle at his concentrated expression. Hearing the sound, Vincen turns around. Thanks to the "Phantom of the opera" kind of half-face-mask you made him wear, you can see the proud but exhausted smile on his face and man, it fills you with pure excitement.

'I think he's gonna do well here.', he signs as he walks closer, fingers shaking a bit due to the excitement of another long project finished.

"He looks great!", you compliment, "He fits very well to Lizzy."

You point to another statue, this time a young woman, dressed in a pink dress that matches her pink bag, and the collar of her little dog friend. Vincent spent whole days on that dog, trying to get every single hair look good. It frustrated both, you and him, and you still remember the huge relief upon finding out he finished it.

'Yeah, and the light falls very good here, it makes him look intimidating in a way, strong, and you know, the color of the curtain matches well with the green blazer you chose, I didn't think it'd look that convincing but it's really aesthetically pleasing and-'

You can't help but grin as Vincent keeps rambling about the piece, nearly exploding with motivation and excitement. His signing is unusually rushed and shaky and you can feel him vibrate with pride as he skips over to you.

Your hand finds his arms and you lovingly squeeze the muscle as he arrives next to you.

"It looks really, really good, Vince. I'm really proud of you, if that means anything."

Apparently it does. Vincent grins, it's so bright it nearly blinds you. Man, you can't describe how happy that makes you.

He turns around a last time, eye shining with seldom seen pride before he absentmindedly takes your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

"How 'bout a snack, hm?", you ask, knowing that if you stay here any longer, you'll never get away.

He nods, you know he hasn't paid attention to a word you just said, and you tenderly drag him out of the room, step by step.

It takes a few seconds but soon, he realises what you want and chuckles while gripping your hand tighter.

You nozzle closer into his side while your steps boom through the echoey space of the foyer.

"I'm really glad it turned out this good. You know how much I love it when you allow yourself to be proud.", you mention, eyes watching him cautiously.

Vincent's eye finds yours and he nods, adoration visible in the azure. You know he'd like to sign an answer but one of his hands is captured by yours, so he settles with another sweet squeeze of your fingers.

It's silent while you walk up to the house, there's no need for words. Vincent's still astonished about the success of his latest accomplishment, and you're busy admiring his concentrated expression, framed by a few silken black strands of hair that escaped his hair-tie. The usual.

The door is open when you arrive, you can hear Bo's radio running inside. It makes Vincent chuckle next to you, before he leaves your side, most likely to tell his twin about his latest success.

Smiling, you close the door with a thud. Last week, Bo threw a tantrum and threw it shut and ever since, it doesn't close properly. A damn shame. Especially because you know no one is ever going to fix it.

Shrugging your thin jacket off, you make your way to the kitchen. You're greeted with the sight of Vincent excitedly signing to his twin, and Bo looking rather disinterested inside his beer can.

Grinning, you greet him, and his expression changes to a surprised one before he sends a genuine smile your way. A year ago, that would've been a reason to celebrate. You're really glad Bo has decided to warm up to you.

"Boys..?", Vincent's signing halts and he sends an angry pout your way. Trying not to laugh, you raise your hands in an apology, "You can continue in a second Vinny, is pasta alright with the two of you?"

Vincent just nods and shakes his hand in your direction - a dismissal.

Chuckling, you start working on the food, soon the twins across of you are forgotten as your mind wanders off... - and comes back just as fast when two icy hands slide beneath your shirt.

Gasping loudly, you turn around and are faced with a shit-eating grin.

"Vincent, I swear to god.", you lightly slap him with the towel in your hand, "One day I will accidentally stab you."

Vincent just laughs your statement off and retreats to lift himself onto the counter.

The two of you are interrupted by Lester, who is now home too, and excitedly skips over to press a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"Honey, I'm home!", he grins and lifts the lid of the pot on the stove, a aromatic smell immediately fills the small kitchen, "Naw, sweet cheeks, ya didn't have to cook. You're treatin' me like a god, sugar."

"Welcome home, Les.", you grin at the younger brother while Vincent rolls his eyes theatrically, "Care to put some plates on the table?"

"Anythin' for you, sweetiepie.", he winks and skips out of the room while you chuckle at his adorable behaviour.

A few minute later, the boys are all seated, and all eyes shift to you, carrying the pot inside and setting it down on the table.

"Here ya go, boys..", you shrug off the oven gloves and thankful smiles are sent your way as the brothers dig in.

While they eat, you look around, letting your gaze wander over the men you started calling family. A familiar warm feeling of nostalgia and gratefulness bubbles in your stomach and you can't help but grin.

You feel home.

#house of wax #house of wax fanfiction #bo #sinclair #Lester sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent #slasher x reader #lebenspurpur talks but in the clinic #slasher fanfiction #comfort #hurt/comfort #vincent x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair imagine #slashers

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ecto-american · 2 years

Text

Fenton Family Values Chapter 1

Ignore that I had posted the first chapter before as just a link, I was mobile bound (so no readmore) but I am Not right now and am posting the second chapter like. Right Now, so I figured I’d put it on here lol

Summary: During the yearly family reunion, Danny learns an interesting assumption his ghost-centric extended family has about a curse that's plagued the Fenton family for centuries.

NOTE: Danny is 23 here

Read the full story on FFN or AO3

"Oh look!" Elliot made everybody stop. He pointed out a giant poster in the mall, stepping forward to pick up a flyer. Sam curiously did the same. "Dumpty Humpty's having auditions!"

"Are you serious!?" Tucker snatched a flyer up too. Paulina grabbed one for her and Valerie to read.

"This weekend!" Elliot read the date. "This is awesome! We should all totally go!" Danny sighed.

"No, I got family stuff this weekend," he replied. "Big Fenton family reunion."

His friend group all seemed annoyed at his statement.

"Come on, Danny!" Elliot scowled. "This is not just the Amity Park Carnival, but where all our dreams come true when Dumpty Humpty will be auditioning fans for a chance to join the band! This could be our chance to be famous!" Danny wanted to roll his eyes. Phantom fame was more than enough for him. "Can't you blow it off? It's just a family reunion. I mean you guys already got the days off work!" Sam snorted in amusement.

"Because we both work for his grandparents," she pointed out. Elliot shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Danny shrugged. "It's unskippable, cause of the family curse. My dad would never let me blow it off."

Tucker sighed, but gave an understanding nod. Elliot blinked in confusion, Paulina mirroring him, and Valerie looked up from the flyer, squinting her eyes at him.

"The family what?"

Danny raised an eyebrow at them. Tucker and Sam also looked surprised.

"You didn't know?" Danny wondered.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Paulina blurted out. Danny shrugged again.

"Um. Well," he hesitated. "Uh, you know the family reunion I go to yearly?"

"Yeah, it's every June, right?" she replied. Danny nodded. "What about it?"

"So, ever since my dad's side of the family came to America in the 1600s, every June 13th, somebody goes missing," Danny explained. Valerie blinked in surprise.

"Missing?" she echoed. Danny nodded.

"Yeah. No matter what, people go missing. Regardless of most efforts to prevent it," he continued. "Blood blossoms, salt, protection circles and charms, saging the home. Nothing. Every June 13th without fail. Either gone forever or found dead with the last known sighting being June 13th."

"So wait, every year somebody in your family just goes missing?" Elliot sounded horrified, and Paulina was going pale.

"Or dies!?" she cried out. Danny quickly shook his head no.

"No no!" he quickly assured them both. "We found a workaround. Basically, if we're with somebody, nobody goes missing. So we all get together."

"Can't go missing if you're never alone," Sam added. "Every year that they all get together, nobody goes missing. And they just decide to make a family reunion out of it."

"This is too creepy for me," Paulina complained. She was getting paler and paler, almost as white as Elliot's hair. "I always knew your family was kinda freaky but cursed!?"

"I'm not cursed! It's just like, more of a family tradition these days!" Danny argued.

"Uh, if you say so." Elliot didn't sound convinced. He finally wrapped a comforting arm around Paulina. "Come on, Polly, I'll buy you a coffee," he offered. She perked up some.

"An iced one?" she asked hopefully. Elliot nodded. She exhaled deeply before walking off with him.

"Your family just gets weirder and weirder," Valerie spoke up. Danny made a face.

"Only two people within my lifetime have gone missing because they refused to come to the reunion," he replied.

"So wait, is Sam in danger then?" Valerie asked, glancing at her. "Or Danielle?"

"If you're a Fenton by blood, you're at risk if you're alone at any time for any length of time on June 13th," Danny clarified. "So Sam's fine, cause she's a Fenton by marriage. But that's why we host reunions. Sometimes we split up a bit cause of the amount of people. Our reunion is normally just my grandparents and their kids. So Dad's parents and his siblings. Ellie is technically a blood Fenton, so she's at risk but goes to a different reunion with my great uncles, she should be safe."

"I'm kinda surprised but this actually makes a lot of sense," Valerie mused, thoughtfully rubbing her chin. "The fact that your dad's a ghost hunter I mean. I'd become kinda superstitious too."

Sam wheezed, and Danny had a pained smile. Tucker snorted in amusement.

"The joy of the reunions," Dannt said slowly. "Is that Dad is far, far from being any kind of outlier." Valerie's eyes widened.

"Oh god," she whispered. "You mean-"

"The Fentons have been ghost hunters, paranormal investigators, psychics, fortune tellers, morticians or funeral directors since we came to America," Danny confirmed dryly. "If it's gotta do with the dead or supernatural, my family's somehow made a career out of it. A secondary family curse is that we somehow default back to being ghost hunters for a living. Do not say a fucking word."

Sam couldn't hold back. She was choking on her own laughs, half hiding behind her flyer in a bad attempt to conceal her amusement.

"You were just dying to get into the family business, weren't you?" Sam teased. Danny snatched her flyer out of her hand to crumble into a ball.

"That's it! You're not coming to the reunion this year!" he scowled. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Danny at this point, I'm your grandma's favorite grandkid," she replied. "I'm coming whether you like it or not."

"Wait so your whole family is ghost hunters, and you still show up?" Valerie interrupted. "Will you be okay?" Danny scoffed off the notion with a confident grin.

"Yeah, easy smeasy. Kinda nerve wracking the first year, but never had a problem. Plus this year, everybody's gonna be obsessed over the new baby, they'll hardly notice me," Danny explained. "Besides, none of them are particularly. Ya know. Good."

"Still," Valerie said slowly. "You sure you'll be okay? I mean the curse is just being alone at all that day, right? We could always just do a weekend hangout at one of our places."

"Yeah!" Tucker agreed. "I mean, Valerie and I have to repaint the apartment back to landlord white before we move. Would be super cool if a ghost could float and paint the ceilings so that we don't have to fuck around with a ladder." Danny chuckled.

"When we come back from the reunion, we'll help you paint," he promised.

"Nice, you're the best. Pizza and beer will be on us!"

--------------------------------------------

"Oh Danny, this house is just perfect!" Sam chirped. Danny glanced at her from the corner of his eye briefly before returning to the road. "It's close to the funeral home for work, close to FentonWorks for the portal-"

"How close to your parents' for avoiding?" Danny interrupted. He just knew Sam was rolling her eyes.

"Not too far, not too close," Sam replied

"Not far enough," he only half joked. He felt her flick his ear.

"Anyway. Three bedroom, two bath, we can both have our own offices, and it already has a fenced in yard too for a dog, and lots of windows for a cat," she listed off the details.

"Send it to me, I'll look at it over dinner. Ah, here we are!" Danny sighed, and he pulled into the small parking lot that separated the funeral home from his grandparents' house. He could see Jazz's car already in the lot, as well as Uncle Andy and Aunt Fran's distinctive camper van and his cousin Bryan's car. However, Bryan was still getting bags from his car, and Danny saw that he had once again brought his best friend and Youtube channel co-host with him.

He quickly put the car in park and turned it off, excitedly hopping out, Sam following suit.

"Hey!" Danny called out. Bryan shot him a smile. "How was the trip? We haven't seen you since the wedding!"

"Ah, nothing crazy happened, even though we stopped at a ghost town on the way," Bryan replied, and he sounded a little disappointed but opened his arms to accept the hug Danny was offering. Sam snorted in amusement.

"Dude, Amity Park is the ghost town," she teased him. Shawn rolled his eyes as he shut the trunk of Bryan's car.

"Only allegedly," he spoke up, shifting his bag onto his shoulder.

"Man, around here ghosts are as common as pigeons," Danny told him, and he moved to pop the trunk of his own car, and he grabbed his and Sam's shared large suitcase. "You need to just live here a few months, and not only pop in for a day or two cause of the curse."

"I keep trying to tell him that!" Bryan chuckled. Sam grabbed her backpack, and Danny slipped his over his shoulder. Sam shut the trunk for him. "Have you smelled that yet? I can already smell Grammy cooking a ham for us." Danny sniffed the air, and he could definitely smell the late dinner being cooked. Sam made a face, but didn't comment on it.

"Well, let's not keep her waiting too long," Danny said. He glanced at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the graveyard in a hauntingly lovely view. His free hand slipped into Sam's.

They both locked their cars and idly chatted as they walked across the parking lot and to the home. As they got closer, the front door opened, and Grandma Fenton appeared. She was a slightly overweight elderly woman with long silver hair in a low bun and bright blue eyes, wearing her usual long black dress that reached her ankles and had sleeves to the elbows, black lacing on the top that made Danny think of an old Victorian dress. She beamed as she saw her grandchildren.

"Oh I thought I saw your cars!" she gushed happily, receiving a chorus of happy greetings in return. As each of them came up the steps, they got a warm hug and forehead kiss from her. "Come on in, I have a ham in the oven that'll be done in about an hour, and Sammy, honey, I have a vegan sweet potato casserole cooking for you." The goth brightened.

"Thank you, Grammy," she told her. Grandma Fenton patted her cheek affectionately.

"Of course, you're my favorite grandchild," she replied. Sam shot Danny a brief, smug look. He rolled his eyes.

"Do we have sleeping arrangements figured out yet?" Bryan questioned as they all huddled into the front room of the home.

"A rough idea, yes," Grandma replied. "So far, we have Jazzy and Spike taking Amy's room alone since they have the baby. Jacky, Maddie, Andy and Frannie are all gonna be in Jacky, Andy and Brenner's room. Brenner and Sully are going to sleep in our room with us. I had Grandpa clean out some of the attic, so if you four wanna take air mattresses up there or use the pull out in the living room, or split with one pair of you going up there and the other being downstairs, either is fine with me. Long as a Fenton is with somebody else the whole time."

"I have no doubts the newlyweds won't be apart for a second," Bryan teased. Danny and Sam both flushed. "You guys can take the attic, Shawn and I can crash in the living room, or worst case join Jazz and Spike."

"Yeah, I'm guessing Ben still isn't sleeping through the night yet," Shawn spoke up. "I'd be fine helping them get some much needed sleep."

"Speaking of Ben," Danny mused slowly. "I'm gonna go say hi!"

"Go on, I'll help Grammy finish dinner," Sam told him.

"Oh that's so sweet of you honey," Grandma beamed. "I'm mostly done, but we can set the table and get everything ready on the table. Jacky and Maddie will be here soon, and Grandpa too."

"Is he out on a call?" Bryan questioned. "And lemme put my bag down, and I can come help too."

"Oh yes, I nearly forgot that we'll need to put the leaf in the table! But yes, Grandpa went out a while ago. Do you remember Mrs. Silver? She lost her battle to cancer."

"He's out on a call?" Danny paused. "Why didn't he wait for us? I could have helped."

"It's okay dear, we knew you'd be busy packing for the reunion," his grandma assured him. "Don't fret too much. Tomorrow you and Sammy can help him prepare the body."

"Well, if he needs help when he gets home unloading, call for me," Danny called out, walking up the first few steps. "Or just tell me when he gets here, he shouldn't be doing it by himself anymore anyway."

"Oh we may be old, but we're not weak," she lightly scoffed.

Danny was already up the stairs, the suitcase in hand. However he dropped it and his bag by the staircase that led up to the attic, opting to instead go to where Jazz was staying.

He gave a brief knock before opening the door. Jazz had looked up curiously. She was sitting in one of the old desk chairs with his nephew in her arms. Already the baby reminded him a lot of their dad, with a ton of black fuzz for hair and the same eyes, complete with being a big baby for his age, almost comically big in Jazz's arms. He also looked a bit red, as if he had just calmed down from a crying fit.

"Ah look at you, squirt," Danny lightly teased, closing the door behind him. Ben burst into a grin upon seeing him, and he began to coo happily. Danny stepped forward and phased him out of Jazz's arms. "Thank you!"

"Danny!" Jazz scowled, immediately getting up. Danny used a hand to motion her to sit, shifting Ben in his arm.

"Don't worry about him, you should chill!" he told her. "You're probably running yourself ragged between him and your thesis." Jazz's expression softened some.

"Well, I did bring my laptop so I could work on it while he slept," she said slowly. Danny grinned.

"Exactly! You should think of this reunion as a day of being able to relax and not worry about him," he said. Ben gave a loud, excited squeal and kicked his legs. "See? Kids need their uncle time. Especially when their uncle can do this!"

Danny held Ben up high as he took a few steps away, bouncing him a tad while making ghost noises that rewarded him with cheerful baby noises. After a moment, he let go, and Ben stayed floating in the air.

"DANNY!" Jazz shrieked, barreling towards him. A duplicate Phantom became visible, holding him.

"Jazz, I've got this!" Danny assured her with a grin. Jazz was not having any of it. She grabbed Ben just in time for the door to open, which prompted the duplicate to disappear.

"You kids okay?" Jack questioned, and Danny could see that Spike was right behind him. He smiled when he saw Ben. "Ahh there's my favorite little guy!" Ben squealed and kicked his legs hard in Jazz's arms upon realizing his favorite person was in the room.

Jack came forward, hands out, and Jazz smiled as she let him take his first grandkid. Spike also came forward, and Danny realized that he had two cups of the coffee that his grandma had made. He handed a cup to Jazz, and she took it and immediately gulped some.

"Oh you're in your little ghostkateer outfit!" Jack squealed excitedly. Indeed, Danny finally noticed that Jazz had put Ben in the little jumpsuit Jack had made for him a while back, complete with a little FentonWorks logo that Jack lovingly embroidered himself.

"He loves it," Spike grinned. Jazz nodded in agreement. She ran a hand through her hair with a deep exhale. "He normally wants to sleep in it every night."

"Of course he does! Just like Grandpa! Nothing's quite like a good ol' jumpsuit!" Jack grinned. The more Jack spoke, the more Ben kicked in excitement. "Come on, little ghostkateer! Let's go show Grandma, and your graunties and grunkles!"

He held Ben close to him, blathering a mile a minute about ghosts (already) as Ben baby babbled back, and he took him out of the room. The second he left, Jazz punched Danny in the shoulder. He flinched hard, rubbing the spot.

"If you ever do that again, I'm shaving your head in your sleep!" Jazz scowled.

"I had it covered!" he argued. Jazz huffed.

"Come on, let's go and meet with the circus."

The three came downstairs to a flurry of activity. He could hear his grandma and wife in the kitchen chatting happily, and the sounds of the table being set by he assumed Bryan and Shawn.

Danny turned into the living room, greeted by his Uncle Andy and Aunt Fran gushing over Ben, who was cooing loudly and happily. However, soon as the baby saw his mom, his mood instantly shifted until Jazz scooped him back up, cradling him and using her mom voice to soothe him, Spike right there with her doing the same. Danny locked eyes with his own mom.

"Hey Mom!" Danny greeted. Maddie smiled warmly. "How was the drive?"

"Hi sweetheart!" Maddie replied. He accepted her hug and kiss on the cheek. "It was good, not much traffic."

"Where's Aunt Brenner?" Danny wondered. "And Uncle Sully? I thought you were picking them up from the airport?"

"Oh Dad was coming back right as we pulled in," Jack explained. "They're outside talking to him."

"Grandpa's back?" Danny echoed. "I'm gonna go help him with the body!"

He was already out the door, hopping down the front porch steps and walking across the parking lot. He saw his parents' RV, as well as the funeral home's first call vehicle, the back doors open. Danny jogged up to his grandpa and his aunt and her husband as they all chatted casually.

"Hey Grandpa!" Danny called out, getting their attention.

Grandpa Fenton matched his wife in many ways. Danny's memories of him always placed him in his black pants with green suspenders and white short sleeved button down collared shirts, thick glasses over blue eyes. At the funeral home with guests, he had shiny black dress shoes and a formal jacket suit. However at home and currently, he wore his comfortable black cardigan and black slippers instead. The hair left on the top of his balding head was silver, but the sides were purely white, an almost distinctive pattern for the Fenton men by now that Danny saw reflected in his own father and began seeing in his own hair.

"Hey, Danny-boy!" he replied. "Can you give me a hand?"

"Of course!" Danny agreed. "Dinner should be ready in an hour."

"Perfect, we can get everything prepped and done for today in an hour," Grandpa replied. "We can do the rest after we meet with the family tomorrow and go over what they want."

Danny nodded, shifting to pull the wheeled stretcher from the vehicle, the wheels popping out as he pulled it out, his grandfather pushing it. The body bag was already strapped to the stretcher, but Danny still gave a quick pull on the strap to double check. His aunt looked a bit pale.

"I don't know how you can handle eating after this," she spoke, shaking her head. Grandpa chuckled.

"Just takes a strong stomach and years of experience, baby girl," he replied cheerfully. He gave Danny a small wink. "Best to leave it to the men."

Danny felt a warm pride feel his chest, and a glance at his aunt told him that she had the same. She was smiling some, giving a half shrug as they wheeled it into the funeral home.

After dinner, Danny had helped with putting away the leftovers and cleanup as his grandparents got dessert ready. Two homemade pies his grandpa had prepared earlier that day and ice cream, with a vegan brand of ice cream included for Sam. Once everybody got what they wanted, they all settled into the living room.

Grandma and Grandpa sat in their matching armchairs. Jazz had claimed a rocking chair that had been moved from the porch to the living room corner, gently rocking Ben as he had his late night breastfeeding. Spike sat on a footrest next to her with her bottle of water and their pie slices, occasionally feeding her a bite or giving her her water when requested. Jack, Maddie, Uncle Andy, Aunt Fran, Aunt Brenner and Uncle Sully all had managed to be comfortable on the oversized L shaped couch across from the chairs. Shawn and Bryan sat on the floor, leaning against the couch with extra pillows for comfort. Sam and Danny shared the loveseat tucked awkwardly near, almost behind, the armchairs.

"And I keep telling our guests to not touch the doll for this specific reason," Aunt Brenner was continuing her story of her haunted museum exhibits.

"I can't tell you how many fingerprints I wipe off the glass cases every day," her husband sighed, shaking his head.

"This family doesn't need more curses," Uncle Andy joked. Her jerked his thumb to Jack. "Jackaboy's still dealing with the curse of never hitting a target." Jack reached over to lightly smack his little brother. Uncle Andy mirrored him.

"Oh you two knock it off," their mother scolded. "Don't joke about curses like that. There's still hope that we can break the curse one day."

"Wait, what? Break the curse?" Bryan spoke up. He looked confused. "Can it be broken? Why haven't we broken it yet then?"

"We think we may be able to," Aunt Brenner said. "It depends. We need more information. I've been researching it lately."

"What are you talking about?" Danny pressed. His grandpa motioned to the bookshelf.

"Get me the book," he requested.

Danny didn't need a further explanation. He knew exactly what book he was referencing. He stood up, grabbing the side of the bookshelf for support as he reached up for the prized book that stayed on the top shelf, plain cover exposed and on display on a stand. He immediately passed it on to his grandfather, who opened it. Danny returned to his seat.

"This curse hasn't been here since the year we came to America," he explained.

"It didn't come with us on the ship?" Jazz questioned, sounding surprised but flinching as Ben pulled on her hair. That's what Danny had always been told too.

"No, no," Grandpa replied, shaking his head. "We lived here for a good thirteen years before the curse struck us."

"It did arrive on the ship with us but didn't begin right away," Uncle Andy clarified upon seeing the confusion. "The witch who placed the curse upon us came on the ship, but we didn't see her spirit companion until we had been there thirteen years. The witch was just a girl when she came, fifteen when she placed the curse."

"Yes, yes," Grandma confirmed. "Our ancestors tried to burn her, but she was saved by her evil spirit protector. And later that day, the village found her at home. It came to light that she had used her magic to be in two places at once. John Fenton-Nightingale led the charge and trial and proved that she was a witch. And on June 13th, she was sentenced to death by burning."

The name immediately made Danny go numb. He glanced at his wife, and Sam locked gazes with him. Her eyes were wide with horror as it both hit them.

"And as she burned, she placed a curse on John Fenton-Nightingale and his family," Jack continued. "And the next year on June 13th, the first relative went missing."

"It took another forty years for him to make the connection, but he had begun our first curse book. Over the years, we've remade and rebound and copied over the contents, but we somehow lost more information about the witch and her protective spirit. The memory faded. We focused more on who we lost," Grandpa continued. He had stopped on a page with a thumb gently brushing over the contents. "And over time, as the cases piled up, we would record them. So that they could never be forgotten."

Danny finally noticed that the page his grandpa was fixated on was of Aunt Amy. A familiar colored photo had been glued to the page of her smiling brightly, and the handwritten account of her vanishing somewhat blurred with tears from the author, newspaper articles that had been carefully folded bookmarking her page. For years, his dad had said that while Grandpa Fenton missed his brother and grandmother a lot, that it was Amy's vanishing that hit him the hardest. Losing their eldest daughter.

Danny remembered the year she went missing. She had to miss the reunion because of work, a well respected psychic who had been urgently requested by a desperate family. While she had promised them all that she wouldn't be alone that June 13th, something had happened. They still didn't know how or why, except that in the ten minute window of her being alone, she had gone missing. And nobody knew where she was over ten years later.

He glanced at Bryan, whose lower lip was quivering hard. Danny was only thirteen when she went missing, but Bryan was almost eighteen. Danny could never forget his cousin's emotional wreck when he was told that nobody had seen his mom since two pm on June 13th, and the pain only visibly deepened every year when he saw Bryan for the annual reunion. The only one who could possibly be more distraught was their grandparents.

Shawn seemed to notice, as he leaned into his friend. Maddie noticed too, leaning forward to peck the top of his head. Bryan lived with them briefly after his mom disappeared before he went to, and eventually dropped out of, college.

The clock chimed, and the Fentons all looked up at the grandfather clock as it struck midnight. Grandpa closed the book with a soft sigh.

June 13th had begun.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #fenton family values #phics #my phics

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dorimena · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your work and if your requests are open would you consider the following?

Monoma is on patrol with y/n and Monoma being well....Monoma, he was horny and was teasing y/n. Not having any of this shit, she proceeds to dom the fuck out of him during patrol. She takes him into an alleyway and fucks him with a strap that she had on her already (she was already planning on something but didn’t go through with it because work is work and she’s aware that Monoma and her could take their time when they got home). She pushes him into the wall and fucks him silly. Monoma is loving it and keeps begging “Mommy fuck me more, please!”. She gives him what he wants but she tells him to be quiet or else the bystanders would fine their great Phantom Thief in a puddle of his own cum while getting fucked by his mommy. At some point two civilians hear Monoma panting and hiccuping and get concerned. Y/n keeps fucking him and reassures them that Phantom Thief is fine. He cums then and there and she tells him to reassure the civilians that he’s ok. Monoma whimpers out that he’s fine and y/n cleans him up and cuddles him in the alleyway telling him how much of a good boy he was.

(I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read your shower blowjob story. This man makes the dom in me go crazy. He’s already a whining bitch, having him be like that in the bedroom just- 😫)

Let me say that I’ve had a scene in my head almost the same as this one you sent me and I am absolutely thrilled because yessss more attention to bratty baby Monoma ٩(♡ε♡)۶

And honestly, this man is just asking for it. Bet he wants to fucked anywhere, anytime, as long as he's put back into his place. That's his kink-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Monoma Neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 3.5k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, pegging, mommy kink, slight exhibitionism, public sex, mentioned sex toy (butt plug), implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms, implied after care, domme!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; begging, humiliation, Monoma being a little shit, because he wanted your attention, and to rile the fuck out of you, aged-up character: Monoma is 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I unknowingly kind of changed a few things from the ask, like the conversation between Monoma and the bystanders, but I hope you like it anon! The ending is kind of rushed, sorry about that!

𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐

“Now, now, y/n, you know ignoring someone, specifically the love of your life, is a crime? How else are you to beg for my love if you go on and ignore my graceful presence? Are you listening to me? At least lend me your attention.”

He’s been like this for the past couple of hours since you’ve both been assigned together for patrol. You thought it’d be a good idea, and Monoma was also excited when your boss told you both to get ready and head to the neighborhood you’re meant to keep a watch over.

The neighborhood turned out not as empty or quiet as you expected, rather close to a busy street. Some stores and restaurants seem to align themselves around this area.

You thought things would go smoothly, go even better and much quicker now that you and your boyfriend are finally patrolling together, months since you’ve transferred to this agency from your old one.

But Monoma’s been leaving any and every snide remark since you two stepped foot into the area, teasing you for any small mistake he believes should be (loudly) called out for or simply trying to mess up your way of doing things.

You don’t even want to count how many times he’s criticized the way your hero outfit currently looks on you. And no, you’re not getting insecure, but rather more… cautious.

There’s a reason why the uniform seems a bit odd around your crotch, but he doesn’t need to know that, not here, not now. Maybe until you both get home-

You trip, almost falling flat on your face if it weren’t for your boyfriend quickly grabbing you, pulling you up to your feet as he looks at you with panic before it quickly dissipates to his stupid mockery.

“See? You cannot do anything right, not without me at least. You, my dear, cannot live without me yet you still ignored me. This is what I mean when you should listen to me. Anyone would truly be grateful for having me, Phantom Thief, as their beloved lover.”

That’s it. You usually can take so much of his weird comments, but right now he’s pulling anything out of his ass at this point. (Soon you’ll see what actually comes out.)

You don’t answer, just look around to make sure no one is watching as you grab him by his stupid tie, dragging him to the nearest alleyway you remember passing by, glad it’s still pretty empty and dark enough to hide your bodies in the shadows.

He isn’t even struggling, just letting you walk him as if he’s a dog, quietly following you. If you were to turn around, you’d see the way his eyes are wide yet full of lust, his pupils dilated as he mentally cheers, thanking the gods for listening to his horny prayers of being sucked in an alleyway.

Do you know how hard it was for him to not jump you and beg you to help him? All because of how sexy you look in your hero outfit, how the small fixes and modifications bring out more of your body, the body he loves, yearns, desires, every day and night. Hopefully you don’t find his surprise before he can debut it once you guys are back home. (But unintentionally came prepared.)

He’s a complete fool for you, but you can’t know that, or else it’ll be the end of-

“Monoma Neito. You have 5 seconds to tell me why the fuck you’re being a piece of shit tonight.”

He didn’t realize his back is against a cold wall or how you’ve trapped him between your arms, the way you’re glaring at him while counting down in such a low tone, it makes his legs feel weak and threaten to buckle..

“Horny.” He barely whispers, crazed eyes never leaving your face as he stays still, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat as you scan him from head to toe, eyes finally staying in place where his boner is visible, even with how poor the lighting is.

You grin, but not your usual friendly grin or familiar flirty grin, but the ‘I’m gonna fuck you till you die’ kind of grin.

And Monoma’s both terrified yet super, duper much more hornier than before. But, with what are you going to fuck him with?

In a flash, he’s suddenly turned around, his clothed-covered chest pressing against the wall as he feels your hands make quick work on his belt, on his pants, pulling them down to rest on his thighs. He hisses and shivers when the cold air hits every exposed part of him, yet makes his dick twitch in interest.

You also free your bottom half to finally let out the strap on you’ve luckily managed to hide until now, searching your pockets for the small tube of lube you brought with you, just in case.

But when you spread his butt cheeks, you gasp in surprise with the butt plug he’s wearing, going to grab the toy as you slowly pull it out in disbelief.

Did he know?

“I-I want you to know you’re not the, um, only one to be prepared for what they want.” Monoma speaks, but in such a soft tone that it has you wondering if he’s the same person who had pestered you since the beginning of the patrol, the same boyfriend you love who has a talent for being loved and hated simultaneously by various people.

But at least he didn’t know. He simply decided to take this extra mile.

Cute. No wonder he’s such a good boy for mommy… sometimes.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t prepare you, right?”

You don’t wait for his response, not when you dispose of the toy away from you both, and you make quick work to lube up your silicone cock.

Monoma doesn’t get to ask you about the wet sounds behind him, or ask where you threw his butt plug before you’re entering him. You felt how his body jolted, his back arching enough to push his ass back more towards you.

You land a smack against the smooth skin, listening how the impact echoes in the empty alleyway and the way he whimpers in pain.

“You’re such a slut for mommy, aren’t you Monoma?”

“Yes!”

No hesitation.

Monoma usually sounds hesitant whenever you two do something new, as if he evaluates the pros and cons from anything and everything, figuring out if he’ll come out benefitted or you.

But he sounds desperate, shameless. He sounds like he’s ready to cry.

New, but not too surprising. When he wants to, he’ll always be a good boy for his mommy.

“Want to tell mommy again why you were being a little bitch tonight?”

Never mind, his hesitation came back, his mouth pressed shut as you peek at him, trying to catch a glimpse at his periwinkle eyes, wondering what’s taking him so long to answer. He answered you so easily, so quickly a few minutes ago.

You hear a soft mumble, see his lips move but no sound gets to your ears. So you spank him once more, hearing his cute squeak and the way he fucks back.

“Louder.”

“I wanted mommy to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m just your stupid little hole! Please? I’ll-I’ll be good now, I promise!”

If anyone were to ask you just how stupid Monoma gets when he’s completely horny and turned on, this is a prime example. His usual eloquent vocabulary? Gone. It doesn’t exist once mommy’s pleasing him.

But he’s also promising about being good? Let’s see how good he’ll be then.

No more words are exchanged, just the soft desperate pants of the pretty blond and some small airy whines that leave his mouth in anticipation for what you’ll do next.

You don’t even start slow, you go absolutely feral.

He barely gets to inhale one last deep breath until you’re fucking that out of his lungs, his head turning to look back at you as best he could as his body begins hitting the wall in front of him, his clothes rubbing against the roughness of the bricked exterior of the unknown building. He lifts head enough to not get itself hit against the wall and his hands are clawing at the bricks desperately, trying to find leverage to hold on tightly, his brain struggling to catch up with how vicious yet delicious you’re fucking him.

When he does remember he’s a human who can speak words, he cries out “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” in such high pitches, it sounds like he’s singing, probably trying to continue seducing you into such a horny haze. His pent-up sexual frustration must have been infectious, with how you find yourself being merciless with him and his ass, your hips slamming into the back of his in such a brutal pace you wonder if the skin will bruise, if he’ll be able to sit or walk properly.

Probably not, but that’s the point, isn’t it?

Your baby boy wanted you to fuck the living shit out of him, so that’s what you’ll do, it’s what you’re best at doing.

Fuck the annoyance out of him so that when you guys get home, he passes out.

You momentarily forget you guys are very much still in public and even if it’s night, civilians are very much still awake and walking, either going back home or going to work, maybe hang out with their friends or find themselves a sub to fuck.

Monoma doesn’t even warn you that he’s cumming, not even his loud, prolonged whine of your name gets your attention. But with how he’s spasming around your toy, how his hips are twitching quickly in between your hands, his eyes that never left from looking at you crossing…

Yeah, since you missed that orgasm and you’re not in the mood to exactly punish him, why not fuck him some more until he can’t remember his name and only yours?

You briefly pause, the tip of the toy the only thing still inside of him as one of your hands rubs circles on his lower back and the other remains on his hip.

Through the panting, Monoma lets out a whine, one that sounds almost disappointed. Probably because he came far quicker than what either of you two expected, or because it feels like you’re pulling out already and calling it a night.

No words are exchanged as you watch him catch his breath for a bit more, memorizing how rosy his cheeks and nose look, how the blush looks like it’s on his neck while his white pupils are fully dilated, oozing his adoration for you.

When you hear him suck in a breath, whether he’s preparing a sentence or to finish pulling himself off the toy, you slam back into him, grinning like a maniac upon feeling how his whole body jumped, going back into action and having blood pump everywhere in him, mostly towards his reawakening dick.

And you slam, slam, slam, slamming into him at such a steady pace, making sure to roll your hips the way you know will make him start squealing in such a girly tone, or like a dirty pig he sometimes becomes.

And once you feel him begin to push back on you and one of his hands leave the wall, you lean forward, pushing his body more up on the wall. He’s bent too much, it’s obvious you’re fucking him doggy style. What if people decide to go through this alley?

He obeys but whines in complaint, not wanting you to stop your ministrations as he pulls himself together, standing up as much as he could as to leave his lower back still bent for you.

“Keep your hands on the wall or else I’ll leave you here like this.”

He loves it when you speak to him in such a low voice, in such a way that you know makes him want to suck your cock for days until his jaw hurts. He puts his hands back on the wall, both placed where his face is at, acting as support as he rests his forehead there. His neck hurts a bit from how long he’s been straining to look at you.

You go back to fucking him, going back to what you were doing, moaning his name repeatedly to keep riling him up, arouse him and make him start begging for you to go faster, harder, deeper, make him dirty.

And he does with loud wails, ones that have you freezing and stopping all together, slapping a hand on his mouth and whispering how he should quiet down, unless he wants to be whored to other people.

“Be mommy’s good boy and keep quiet. Unless you want someone else’s cock.”

“No! No muh-mommy! Only y-yours~ Please!” He moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he impatiently grinds against you, feeling how sticky his thighs are getting with sweat and some of his cum and precum, somehow.

“Mommy, fuck me more, please!” He whimpers so cutely, so pathetically, so melodically you’re sure he somehow copied someone’s siren quirk, because your head feels dizzy, your heart is beating erratically and your hips sync with the pulse, forgetting about being consistent with speed, with roughness, with how deep you reach inside of him.

Fucking him silly until he’s trying his best to muffle his screams and cries into the back of his hands pressed on the wall, his fingers trying so hard to find solace on them, to grasp the reality of him being defiled in an empty, dirty alleyway, pressed so ruthlessly against a wall he doesn’t know how exactly dirty it could be.

Monoma’s hiccuping your name until you spank him, growling softly how that’s not who you are, making him wail out “Mommy! Cumming!” in such an erotic way, you wonder if you’re fucking your boyfriend or a girl with how he’s managed to reach such an incredible pitch.

You keep going, and even when he’s done cumming, you don’t stop impaling him, and a hand goes to wrap itself around his dick, trying your best to match this chaotic fucking, hearing how he’s struggling to breath, to comprehend this painful yet electrifying pleasure.

His toes are curling in his shoes, his knees don’t stop buckling, his hips never stop trying to meet with yours, the burn of overstimulation flowing through his veins yet motivating his dick to keep going, to keep obeying, to not disappoint mommy.

Monoma’s speaking gibberish, babbling whatever nonsense and begging he could think of or come to make up, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard they’re pressing against the bricks as he tries to not fall. He’s not sure how or why he’d fall, but with how you’re touching him, squeezing him, stroking him, playing with him, he’s ready to give into the inquiry of whether being a househusband would have you fucking him like this everyday.

It’s a weird thought, one he’s never had before, one that’s still early to even care about-

Oh my god you’re abusing his prostate!

He’s seeing stars, planets, flashing strobe lights and envisioning his uproaring third orgasm, mouth hung open stupidly as whiny sobs and strangled cries escape him, trying his best to keep quiet like you said but he can’t!

“Feels s’ good!” He slurs, once again turning his head to look at you, eyes completely wet as tears fall in graceful droplets, hair messed up and drool staining a bit of his chin.

And just as you were going to respond, you heard footsteps.

You both freeze: you’re halfway out of him while Monoma’s struggling to not let his coughing fit be heard, having swallowed his saliva far too quickly with the scare.

The sounds stop, but now you both can hear a female voice.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Monoma whimpers, embarrassed.

So this is how he’ll get caught and shamed.

This is the end of his career.

But you’re not having it, not with how his dick has stopped twitching and is starting to soften.

You’re not done yet, and neither is he.

“Answer, Monoma.” You harshly whisper, wiping your thumb over his hypersensitive tip, making him hiccup loudly before composing himself as best he could.

“Y-yes? It-It is I, Phantom Thief- ooh~”

Another voice pitches in.

“Phantom Thief? The Phantom Thief?!”

“Y-Yes!” Monoma squeaks out, trying to cover up his gasp as you begin to slowly fuck him, making sure to keep hitting him straight to the prostate, amused how he’s gripping his jaw, muffling his hiccups while frantically shaking his head, begging you with his eyes to no, no, please!

The two bystanders gasp, seemingly walking more towards where you and Monoma are, making you press him more into the wall, hoping the angle you’re both in and the small hiding spot is enough to keep you hidden.

“We’re huge fans of yours! But, um, are you alright? We heard someone crying.”

“Fuck!” Monoma whimpers, struggling to keep his breathing in check as you continue to move, even rolling your palm all over his tip, your other hand going to pull at one of his nipples.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing! I’m fin- ugh~”

“You… sure?”

“YES!”

Monoma yells, back arching as his head touches your shoulder, eyes rolling up this head as he’s torn between pushing back or bucking forwards, feeling his body submerged in such an intense heat, in such shame, in such pathetic desperation to cum, he’s begging you in quick hushed moans to please, pretty please, make him cum, he wants to cum, needs to cum again.

“And your fans?” You whisper teasingly, feeling how he shivers with how close your breath is near his ear.

“Fu-uck my fans-”

“Now now, that’s something you never said before. Did I fuck Monoma Neito out of you?”

And you go back with the brutal pace, not caring if the other two bystanders can hear what’s going on, not caring if they come out traumatized or probably aroused with how obvious it is that their dear Phantom Thief is getting fucked in a shady place, in a nasty place, yet he’s silently wailing and convulsing with everything you’re giving him.

Your hand soon enough gets sticky with what little cum his poor, weak body produced, his hole clenching tightly around your strap-on while his hands fly back to grasp any part of you that he could reach, which ended up being your head.

The bystanders speak again while Monoma’s busy wheezing his gratitude.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We could call the police-”

“I’m alright! ‘m fine~” He managed to sing-song, but if you heard a bit of his whimper seep from the last word, you don’t say anything, simply slow down your stroking before pausing.

You hear their footsteps slowly go back towards where they probably came from, making Monoma let out shaky exhales of relief and satisfaction, small giggles slipping from time to time as you kiss his neck, his cheek, his jawline.

And once you are certain you’re both alone again, you slowly pull out of him, helping him to turn around so that his back presses against the wall.

Until he grimaces.

“My essence is, from my deduction, splattered on this disgusting wall.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you point down to where his pants are, laughing harder when you see how his grimace turns into a face of disgust, horror, shame, surprise, arousal- wait what?

You don’t question the last one, simply letting out the last of your giggles while you search for the disinfectant wipes you tend to carry with you in your utility belt. And once they’ve been found, you make him lick your cum-covered hand first before properly passing a wipe. You hand Monoma one so that he cleans his face if needed, disinfect his hands, his thighs, anywhere he thought he needed to clean.

No, that's a lie. You took care of his thighs and pelvis, trying your best to clean the spots where his cum reached his pants before peppering a few gentle kisses around his exposed skin.

Pulling his briefs and pants up, buttoning, zipping, fasting his belts. You let out a happy sigh, fixing his hair and tie.

You then fix yourself.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy, Monoma?”

He somehow managed to chirp. “I am, mommy.”

“Then, you’ll stop being a bitch tonight, right? Mommy made sure to fuck it out of you.”

“Oh, um,” aw, he’s blushing. “I suppose…”

When you both walk away from the much-more defiled wall, you hold back an amused snort with how Monoma seems too unstable with his feet, how his legs seem to shake with every step he tries to take and how frustrated he looks with how uncooperative his body is.

You decide that chilling and cuddling in that corner wouldn’t be so bad, and considering how your shift ended minutes ago, you doubt either you or Monoma will get into trouble.

#✿; impurity #⏱ Monoma brain rot #bnha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub monoma neito #sub bnha #mha smut #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

Fangs or No Fangs

For Phic Phight 2021. Jack and Maddie know that Danny is Phantom. They saw him transform and they knew they should talk about it with him. But...even after two weeks, that conversation feels impossible. And so Maddie has a plan: a trip to the planetarium to cheer Danny up, to finally see him smile, and to pave the way for the truth.

Word Count: 8,191

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: So this story is a bit of a mess of three prompts. I started with the first one and it veered into this. Part reveal fic. Part post-reveal family bonding (err....Jack and Maddie know and Danny knows that they knew but they haven't talked about it and no one's acting like they know so...?) Either way, it's all an unholy mix of fluff and angst.

Prompt by @amabsis : The Fenton’s notice that Danny isn’t smiling as much, so the only reasonable thing to do is take him out to cheer him up! What happens when they do manage to get him to smile, and they find out he has small fangs?

Prompt by @charcoalhawk: Maddie and Jack find out that their son is phantom and fully support him. Danny and Jazz however did not get that memo.

Prompt by @phan-pheeking-tastic : Post-Reveal Family Bonding

It had been two weeks since Maddie and her husband had found out what the portal had actually done to their son. Two weeks since they learned that their baby boy was a ghost. Two weeks since they saw their ghostly enemy, Phantom, turn into their son.

It was on a normal ghost hunt. They’d been following Phantom, for once not yelling their normal insults but stalking him silently. The pair turned around a corner, to find Phantom standing with his back to them, a ring of light around his waist. Maddie tensed, anticipating an attack. Then the ring passed over the ghost’s head and the woman gasped. Her heart just about stopped, staring at the figure in front of her.

The figure, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and now with black hair, turned around. His blue eyes widened in panicked fear.

“Danny?” Jack whispered in awe beside her.

The boy’s mouth fell open, body stiff with fear. Maddie blinked and the boy in front of them, their son, their Danny, disappeared.

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

The two went home, numb with disbelief. Maddie thought it was a dream at first; she must have imagined it. Or this was Phantom playing a trick on them except…

Maddie knocked on her son’s bedroom door to check on him. “Danny?” The sound of feet pacing and heavy breathing came from behind the door. Then there was a sudden clatter, a yelp as if the boy had ran into something. The woman frowned. “Can I come in sweetie?”

“Just...just a second.” Danny called, voice echoing but unusually high with obvious nerves.

There was a flash of light, visible from under the door. Maddie paled, wheels turning in her head. Then seconds later, her son pulled open the door, opening it only wide enough to see his deathly pale face. “Yeah? What’s….” He coughed, forcing his voice into a more normal pitch. “What’s up?”

The mother stared into his wide eyes, biting her own lip. “Danny….” She hesitated, suddenly unsure. “Is there...do you want to...Is everything alright?”

The boy paled at the question, shaking slightly. “Yeah. Everything’s...everything’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

Maddie frowned. “Danny...are you sure-”

He cut her off, starting to push the door closed. “Yeah. Yep. It’s fine. I’ve...I’ve got homework. Seeyouinthemorningbye!” The teenager said the words so quickly, Maddie could hardly understand them. Then the door slammed in her face.

Dread dropped like a rock in the mother’s stomach. Shaking herself, the woman turned back and started down the stairs. She and Jack needed to talk.

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

“It’s true. Isn’t it?” Her husband said, as soon as he saw her weary face. “Danny’s...Danny’s Phantom. Our son…”

“Our son’s a ghost.” Maddie whispered. Danny’s panicked expression in the alley and just minutes before in his bedroom, flashed in her mind. “It must be true. All the evidence is there.”

How their equipment targeted their son. The injuries he tried to hide, to blame on bullies. Skipping class, the detentions, the missing assignments. Missing curfew, sneaking out. His constant exhaustion. Their equipment going missing, only to end up in Phantom’s hands. Their children’s fervent support of the ghost boy.

Danny was Phantom. He must be. They saw him change. They saw him as a ghost. Danny….he was a ghost, meaning...he was dead. And it was the portal. It must have been. The portal, their life’s work, the machine that he had said just gave him a little shock, must have killed him. Except….did it? It had been two years since then and Danny had grown. Maddie had hugged him since and he was warm. She’d felt his heartbeat. He seemed to be alive so….?

The parents didn’t know. Danny was a ghost...and yet he was not? Or he was still alive but had some kind of ghost powers?

Maddie put her head in her hands. “We should talk to Danny.”

“In the morning.” Jack yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. “I’m exhausted and Danny….” He looked down, guilty.

The mother sighed. “He must be tired too, if he’s not already asleep.” They had been talking for hours at this point, processing what they’d seen and hypothesizing. Both of them needed to lay down and calm their racing thoughts. So the pair went up to bed.

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

Maddie really had wanted to talk to Danny in the morning. But he’d dashed out without as much as a word to them. He did have school. They could wait and talk to him after, right?

Then after school, he raced up to his room with the excuse of homework before Maddie could even look at him. Soon after, he disappeared from his room and the mother saw a report about Phantom fighting the hunter ghost in the park. Guilt stabbed at her heart.

When he came home after curfew (and luckily uninjured), the woman didn’t have the heart to chastise him. And he looked so tired, so weary. He ran up the stairs, muttering an apology.

Talking to Danny the next morning turned into that afternoon again, turned into the next day, turned into waiting for the weekend. But then the boy was always over at his friends’ house or busy doing homework. He was nervous, flighty, skittish, and tense the brief times he was near his parents. And when he was, Danny wouldn’t look at them, wouldn’t talk to them, could hardly stand to be in the same room.

Maddie cursed herself. She knew they needed to have this conversation. She and Jack needed to talk to their son. So why couldn’t either seem to gather the courage? Why did the thought of talking about what the portal had actually done to their son, about how their work, their words, their actions, had affected him, make Maddie’s stomach roll? Why did it make her heart lodge in her throat, her lungs refuse to take in air? Why did it feel so insurmountable, like the guilt, the secrets would bury her alive?

Part of her wished that Danny would say something himself, that he would break the silence. Hell, she wished Jazz would call them out but no such luck. Instead a few days turned into a week, turned into two weeks.

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

Maddie sighed, looking down at her coffee. It made her insides squirm anxiously, thinking about all this. All that they’d done before they knew, her continued silence. The guilt was eating the woman up inside and Danny’s sober mood broke her heart. It had been so long since she’d seen him look anything but nervous and distrustful, since he’d been in the same room as them for more than five minutes. The mother’s shoulders fell. He looked so sad, so anxious; she’d given anything to see him smile again.

A soft yawn sounded beside her, causing the mother to look. The boy himself was swaying sleepily, standing at the counter. How had he gotten there without her noticing? He was so quiet, silent as a ghost. Maddie shook her head at the thought.

Then she frowned, letting out a short gasp. Danny’s had his hand through, literally intangibly, through the cupboard.

The boy turned, eyes widening; he suddenly looked very awake. He pulled his hand out, clutching a box of cereal. “Uh…. morning, Mom.” He paled, eyes widening.

Maddie’s frown deepened at that. “Good morning sweetie.” She eyed the coffee pot, trying to wipe the surprise off her face. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, biting his lip. “I’m good. I’ll just...uhh...bye.”

The mother held out a hand. “Danny. Wait.”

The boy didn’t respond, instead turning and practically sprinting away at almost inhuman speed. Maddie wanted to chastise him for running in the house. Instead, she put her head in her hands. Did Danny do things like that all this time? If he did, how the hell had they not noticed? They were really that bad parents, weren’t they?

Annoyance at herself flared at the thought as Maddie raised her head. She balled her fists. “We need to do something.” The woman looked at her husband. “We have to talk to Danny. Today. Actually….” She stood up, looking in the direction her son had gone.

“Wait Madds.” Jack interrupted. The mother looked down at where he was still seated. “We can’t just spring this on him.”

Maddie’s eyes twitched angrily. “Jack.”

“Just listen.” The man held up his hands. “How about we go out and do something together as a family? The Amity Park Science Center, they have a new planetarium show. Danny will love it. He’ll have a good time. He’ll get to relax and see that...see that we want to spend time with him.” The man worried his lip, his voice wavering with emotion. “I just want him to feel comfortable and safe talking to us, Maddie.”

Maddie’s expression softened and she sat down, grateful for husband’s insight. “You’re right.” She sighed. “Maybe doing something like a normal family will help him relax. And then...then we can talk to him when we get home tonight.”

With that, the parents agreed and informed both of the kids, earning wary but tentative agreement from both. Maddie frowned at that. The distrust stung but both Fenton parents had earned that distrust. They were ready to do what they could to fix that, starting with removing or deactivating all of the anti-ghost weapons in the GAV. They’d already moved all ghost hunting equipment into the basement and discussed dismantling some of the more dangerous-to-ghost equipment. But the ghosts, ones that their son had unbeknownst to them been combatting for the past few years, were still a very real threat to the town. They’d need to find a way to keep their weapons from being able to hurt him (Maddie’s heart ached at the thought) but that was for another time.

Now, Jack and Maddie were waiting downstairs for both kids to finish getting ready. Jazz walked down the stairs, a tight frown still on her face.

The girl raised her brow at the sight of her parents. “What are you wearing?”

Jack glanced at his wife and then down at himself. “Just jeans and a t-shirt, Jazzarincess.” He scratched at his neck, trying to look less uncomfortable than he was.

“But...you’re not in your jumpsuits?” The girl asked, still unsure.

Maddie shrugged. “We just wanted to wear something a little different, sweetie.” And a little more normal, the woman hoped she implied.

If Jazz understood the implication, she didn’t comment. Instead, she turned as Danny came bobbing down the stairs. The two shared knowingly looks, the boy’s eyebrow twitching as he noticed his parents’ clothes.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, shifting nervously. “Where are we going?” He asked quietly.

“To the Amity Science Center.” Jack beamed. “They’ve got a new show at the planetarium. Doesn’t that sound exciting, son?”

For just a moment, interest sparked in Danny’s eyes at the word planetarium. Then the wary look was back. Maddie sighed. “Come on kids.” Hopefully, he would enjoy himself and this would in fact help him to loosen up.

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

The fifteen minute car ride to the Science Center was quiet and tense. Danny glanced anxiously around the GAV as if expecting weapons to activate and point at him. He flinched at every bump in the road. Jazz looked worriedly between her brother and her parents, her brow furrowed with thought. Honestly, Maddie wasn’t expecting much better but it still stung. Half-heartedly, she tried to idly chat with Jazz but the teen just looked all the more wary.

Soon enough, the family arrived at their destination. They quickly passed through the queue to pay and then entered the first room, a geology exhibit. The kids wander off, softly talking to each other while passively looking at the displays. Maddie could pick up the worried tones but walked away, deliberately not eavesdropping. They were probably wondering about why exactly their parents were being so ‘weirdly normal’ and taking them out for a family day. But after a minute, the pair drifted apart, Danny wandering to the back while Jazz looked at a large display on the left wall.

Maddie was reading about volcanoes when she spotted her son at the case to her right. His eyes roved over the display, widening at the words. His frown slowly ticked up. The mother raised a brow at his expression, feeling relief.

She then looked into the case wondering what had him relaxing. Oh, of course. These were the meteoroids. They even had one rock from the moon that had mystified Danny even since he was a little boy.

Danny’s eyes lit up at the exhibit, literally. For just a moment, neon green flashed in his eyes. His teeth flashed in a smile. Maddie let out a small relieved gasp at the sight.

It was then, Danny noticed her. His eyes widened and his head turned, hand automatically moving to cover his mouth.

The mother’s expression instantly fell and she wondered at the behavior. But she didn’t say anything, instead allowing Danny to wander off again.

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

The family continued exploring, slowly moving from exhibit to exhibit. To Maddie’s dismay, Danny was tense at first. She hadn’t seen him smile again since the meteors. His expression was uncharacteristically neutral. It’s not that he was bored (not that he’d even been bored on a trip here) but he was visibly anxious, not allowing himself to relax.

That eventually changed, as the group entered the heart of the museum, the dinosaur exhibit. Life-sized replicas of T rex, Triceratops, and Raptors loomed over them, faux rocks, plants, and wall murals simulating Earth when the dinosaurs walked on it. With the shifting lights, the occasional dinosaurian roars over the speakers, and the excitable little kids running around, it was lively. Danny and Jazz were huddled over a display of replica triceratops eggs while Maddie looked at a fossil of a primitive flowering plant.

“Oh Danny! Stand there. I want a picture.” Jazz’s voice came from behind her and the mother turned.

“No. Jazz. Come on.” Danny pouted.

“Please.” The girl begged.

After a moment, Danny huffed. “Fine.”

The boy moved to stand in front of the replica raptor what his sister had pointed out. He forced a closed lip smile, holding out two fingers in a peace sign. There was a flash of light from Jazz’s phone, leaving the other teen blinking. “Jazz.” He whined.

“Sorry.” She smiled, sheepishly. Then she held out her phone. “Now take my picture.”

Danny wrinkled his nose, obviously displeased but played along anyway as his sister came to stand beside the raptor. “You should stick your hand in its mouth and look like you're screaming.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, instead just smiling at the camera. That is, until a roar sounded from the speaker directly behind her. The girl shrieked in surprise at the noise, jolting forward and holding her hand over her heart.

Danny blinked in surprise before suddenly cackling with laughter and pointing at the now huffing girl. He snapped a few pictures, capturing her undignified face.

Meanwhile, Maddie beamed. Hearing her son laugh after so long was a beautiful sound. She walked forward, wanting to join the moment.

Then Danny spotted her. He blushed, covering his mouth with one hand before his chuckles quieted. His mother’s expression fell again. That was odd. This was the second time he’d covered his mouth once she’d seen him enjoying himself. She raised a brow as if to ask but Danny ignored the look.

Instead, he started leading Jazz away. “Come on. Let’s get some pictures in front of the T rex.”

Maddie turned, watching them walk away and noting the oddity. Jazz had been the one wanting pictures. The girl also wore a disappointed look as she softly said something to her brother, earning a frown from him.

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

This continued as Danny seemed to enjoy the trip and grow more comfortable. Maddie would catch glimpses of him smiling at an exhibit or laughing at something his sister said. Then he would see her watching from a distance and cover his face. It was deeply bothersome. Did he not want his parents to see him enjoying himself?

By the time they were waiting for the doors of the planetarium to open for their show, Maddie’s stomach was flopping with anxiety over the behavior. Along the walls of the hallway leading to the theater was a display about the history of space travel. Ever since they'd first brought Danny here as a seven year old, this section had always brought her son such joy. He would smile and ramble, often even jumping up and down in eager anticipation for the doors of the planetarium to open.

Now, Danny was visibly trying to contain himself. Even as his wide eyes eagerly roved over the displays, his lips were forcefully pinched closed, almost as if the boy was exerting great effort to not smile. The display broke Maddie’s heart.

Then, the woman’s face set in determination. She wasn’t having this. They come here to cheer Danny up, for some parent-child bonding, so that’s what she would do. Maddie took a step forward, preparing to ask Danny what he was looking at. But then the doors to the planetarium opened.

Danny turned at the noise, meeting her eyes. His mother gave him a comforting smile. “Come sweetie. It’s time for the show.”

The boy nodded, giving her a closed mouth smile. He walked in front of her, into the theater and Jack and Jazz followed.

Maddie paused in front of a group of four seats. “How’s here, Danny?”

“Looks good.” The boy confirmed, sitting down.

Jazz sat to his left and after a moment’s hesitation, Maddie took a set to his right. Briefly, the boy tensed.

“Danny boy!” Jack’s enthusiastic exclamation cut through. “Are you excited?”

The boy blinked, turning. “For what?”

“For the show, dear.” Maddie chuckled.

“The show. Right.” Danny nodded. “It’s supposed to be about blackholes.” The corner of his lip turned up. “The poster looked awesome.” At that, the boy relaxed, letting out a breath.

Beside him, Maddie settled into her seat, relaxing as well. She hoped Danny would enjoy this. Soon, the lights dimmed, an image of the Milky Way appearing onto the dome in front of them.

“It’s starting.” The woman whispered happily to her son.

Danny perked up, his eyes widening at the sight. Music played through the speakers and the image shifted, the stars and clouds of the galaxy moving as if in a time lapses. “Wow.” The boy awed.

But the show was just getting started. Narration began playing through the speakers, the story of blackholes and their discovery. The life cycle of stars and their death. It was mesmerizing, the swirling images above and in front of them in the dark. It made Maddie’s lips part in a pleased smile, the beauty making the breath catch in her throat. Space really was incredible; the woman understood why her son loved it so. Thinking for her son….

Beside her, Maddie heard an excited gasp. She looked to the side, slowly taking in her son’s face. His eyes were wide, staring at the wall as the corner of his mouth turned though his lips didn’t part. He was clearly enamored with the program and therefore didn’t notice the mother’s observation at all. The woman smiled; he really was adorable when...he….was….

Maddie’s thoughts trailed off, her eyes widening. For a second, something flickered in Danny’s eyes before disappearing. The woman’s brow furrowed. A breath later, she saw it again. Ethereal green light flicker in his eyes, circling his iris before disappearing. Slowly, the boy’s lips parted. He blinked. The glow, the ghostly glow returned and Maddie’s jaw dropped. The light swirled like galaxies, overtaking his irises.

The mother stared. At the glowing eyes. Her son's glowing eyes. She recognized that shade of ghostly green. Phantom’s eyes. Maddie tried to shake away her surprise. She knew her son as Phantom. She did. She knew he was a ghost, or part ghost, or...she didn’t really know but….

Danny’s mouth parted into a grin. And Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. He was smiling. Danny was smiling. The ghostly light was swirling in his eyes, the light reflecting off his cheeks, his freckles. His freckles… they were glowy faintly and… shifting across his face, forming constellations. It was almost...beautiful. No, not almost. The boy’s smile widened, his teeth shining in the dark. He looked so happy and it was the most beautiful thing Maddie had seen in weeks.

All too soon, the planetarium show ended, the lights slowly turning on. Danny stayed looking forward for a bit as the ghostly light of his eyes dimmed. But he was still relaxed, smiling widely. At that sigh, Maddie finally noticed something. His teeth were...odd. On the top and bottom, his canines were unusually long and sharp, almost like….

The woman gasped, drawing her son’s attention. He paled, eyes widening in alarm.

Maddie pointed, quietly asking. “Danny? Are those-”

“No.” Danny cut her off, his mouth snapping shut. He covered his mouth with his hand as he rambled. “Of course not. Of course, I don’t have fangs. That’s ridiculous. Why would I have- Umph.” Jazz elbowing him cut off.

The woman frowned, opening her mouth to reply. But she had no idea what to say.

Luckily, Jack came to her rescue. He patted her knee. “Let’s go get some lunch, Madds.” His voice lowered. “And we can talk about…” He pointedly looked at Danny, letting the statement linger.

Maddie nodded in agreement. “Come on kids.”

She stood up and fronted. Danny looked pale and worried again. She offered him a comforting smile. At that, his eyebrow twitched but his anxious expression lingered. Then Jazz nudged him, before standing. “Come on Danny.” She offered her hand, pulled him out of his seat, and started walking out of the room, deliberately standing between her brother and her parents.

Disappointment rose in Maddie at that but she pushed it down. They would talk about all this soon enough but as for now… the woman’s stomach growled…. Getting food sounded like a good idea.

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

Ten minutes later, the family took their seats at a secluded table in the Center’s cafe. They’d bought overpriced sandwiches and now Danny was taking small, tentative bits of his meatball sub. Maddie looked down, picked up her reuben, and started eating. At the same time, Jack dug in and Jazz nibbled on her chicken salad.

There was silence for a long while, the buzz of the other patrons surrounding them. The woman wanted to make conversation, to ask what Danny had thought of the planetarium show. He’s enjoyed it, clearly. But Maddie wanted to hear him ramble excitedly about it. She wanted to see him smile again.

But Danny looked so tense now, so worried. His shoulders were hitched, almost all the way up to his ears and he was pointedly avoiding looking at his parents. The sight of her son's fangs and his face once he realized that she’d seen them flashed in her mind. She wanted to ask about those. When did he grow fangs? And why? It was because he was a ghost, wasn’t it? Many ghosts they’d seen did have fangs. But did Phantom? Maddie couldn’t remember seeing them before, not that she’d seen that version of her son up close often. Granted...she hadn’t seen him smile in either form for what felt like months. The woman’s heart fell.

Danny’s quiet voice broke through her thoughts. “Are you gonna ask?”

Maddie looked up, the corner of her lips twitching down at the sight. His shoulders hunched, eyes downcast. The mother reached forward, wanting to squeeze his hand comfortingly but hesisted. Instead, she offered him a caring smile. “Do they hurt?”

The boy looked at her, brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“When my wisdom teeth came in, I remember my gums and jaw being really sore.” The woman shook her head, focusing on the boy’s closed mouth. “I know it’s not the same thing but…. If they’re giving you problems, we can take you to the dentists.”

Danny frowned. “No. I don’t...I don’t need to go to the dentist.” He wrung his hands. “They don’t hurt or anything. Haven’t at all really.”

Jack raised a brow. “Even when they were growing in?”

The boy opened and closed his mouth before covering his face with his hand again. He glanced at his sister, worriedly. Jazz raised one brow, frowning deeply. She then looked at the parents briefly, her expression all the more confused.

Danny’s forehead wrinkled. After a long moment, he answered. “They... uhh… I just woke up one morning and...my teeth were like this?”

Maddie blinked in surprise, taking in the words. The fangs just showed up overnight? Well…maybe that was better than them slowly growing and causing the boy pain.

With that thought, the woman forced the confused expression off her face. “Can we see your teeth, Danny?” She gently asked.

The boy’s eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head.

Beside the mother, Jack’s expression softened. He reached forward, patting the boy’s arm with surprising gentleness. “It’s alright Danny-boy. You can show us.”

Danny didn’t flinch at the touch, instead looking thoughtfully between the two adults. Slowly he opened his mouth. There on display were his small fangs.

Maddie leaned forward, observing. Unlike last time, she wasn’t surprised. She’d known what to anticipate and to her shame, the woman had expected to feel discomfort or even disgust at the inhuman dentistry. But no such feelings arose. Instead her expression softened. She smiled authentically. “Aww sweetie.... They’re adorable.”

Danny blushed, gapping at the reaction. His embarrassed expression intensified as Jack replied.

“Ah come on Madds. You can’t call him cute.” The man grinned. “Our Danno’s fierce! And those fangs just make him look more badass.”

The boy blinked rapidly, like he could hardly believe what he was hearing, like the words just didn’t compute. Jazz looked equally confused.

Maddie waved the man off. “No one said he can’t be cute and fierce.” Her smile widened. “Our fierce little man.”

Danny facepalmed, whining. “Mom!”

The response was so normal, the typical reaction to a teenager being embarrassed by their parents in public. It made Maddie’s heart sing in relief, so much so, she started laughing. A moment later, Jack did as well.

The kids stared at the adults, both looking embarrassed and slightly tensed. But slowly, the pair relaxed, a soft smile crossing Jazz’s face. Danny’s lip parted as he snorted as well, shaking his head.

After a long moment, Maddie and Jack’s chuckling stopped and Danny’s smile faded. He eyed the adults, with crossed arms and a raised brow. “So...are you gonna ask why….?” He trailed off but Maddie knew what he was asking.

The parents looked at each other before Jack shrugged. “If your teeth aren’t bothering you and you’re happy with them, we don’t need to worry about it. Do we?”

“Um...I guess… but…” Danny still looked unsure, glancing between the two.

Maddie tried to comfort him. “You don’t have to tell us why, if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready.” Her expression was just serious, just forceful enough. Hopefully, he understood what she was really trying to say, what she was implying.

The boy uncrossed his arms, looking at her thoughtfully. “And...you’re okay with me having...having fangs?”

“Of course we are.” The woman’s expression softened. “We love you no matter what you look like.” It was odd wording for comforting her son about his strange teeth but that wasn’t what this was really about.

Something that might have been realization flashed in Danny’s eyes. He might just have understood.

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

The rest of their time at the museum was much more relaxing after that. The family talked more freely as they finished eating. After lunch, they finished exploring the museum exhibits and visited the aquarium portion of the center.

“Look! The shark feeding’s in ten minutes.” Danny pointed at the tank, his fangs poking just below his lips as he gave his parents a tentative smile. “Come on.”

He bounded forward, positioning himself near the front of the growing crowd. Maddie stood right behind him, the two chatting about the earlier planetarium show while waiting. The corner of Danny’s mouth gradually turned up as he got more involved in the conversation. Then he was actually smiling. For a second, his hand reflexively swung up to cover his mouth but then he lowered the appendage. He smiled unsurely but when Maddie made no comment, nor did her open expression change, he relaxed. Soon, the boy was talking animatedly and Maddie cherished every word.

Minutes later, the shark feeding and subsequent educational talk captured the mother and son’s attention. Or rather, it just managed to wholeheartedly capture Danny’s interest. Maddie’s eyes flickering between the tank, the volunteer answering questions, and her son’s happy face, small fangs included.

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

The family continued exploring. Danny cheered softly at the touch tank, once one of the stingrays finally paused long enough for him to touch it.

“Yes! Finally! See. That wasn’t so bad.” He talked to the animal, gently passing his fingers along the soft skin.

He smiled at Jazz cooing over the adorable poison dart frogs.

“Awww. I just want to pick it up. Cup the little guy in my hands. It’s so cute.” The girl leaned against the glass.

The boy chuckled. “Jazz. It’s a poison dart frog. You’d be deader than me in five minutes.”

The other teen huffed, blushing before she rolled her eyes teasingly.

Danny and Jack stopped in front of the jellyfish tank, their translucent bodies hovering behind the glass.

“Danno! Ghost jellyfish!” The man pointed excitedly.

The teen shook his head. “There’s no way that’s what they’re called.”

Jack thumped the sign. “Yes they are!” Danny blinked, reading the sign in disbelief. The man continued. “Imagine it son. Ghost jellyfish that came back as ghosts. Ghost ghost jellyfish!”

Danny laughed.

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

After that, the family explored the outdoor exhibits. Meerkats, Tortoises, Gibbons, Lemurs, Nile Crocodile, Red Pandas. The zoo’s star exhibits: the tigers and wolves. Yes, even the petting zoo.

They enjoyed all of it. Maddie asked the zookeeper's questions. Jazz took pictures. Jack peered through the glass with his normal boyish excitement. And Danny smiled.

Danny nudged his father. “Hey Dad. Can I have a dollar to feed the goats?”

“Sure kiddo.” Jack fished out his wallet and pulled out two bills. “For you and your sister.”

The boy nodded, handing the bills over to one of the employees and receiving two cups of feed. He handed one to Jazz and entered the enclosure. He smiled as the animals crowded up, eagerly sniffing at the cup.

“Alright. Alright. Here you go.” He grabbed a handful of pellets and held his hand out. An enthusiastic goat ate the food out of his hand. “Hey! Hey! That tickles!” The boy chuckled, scratching the animal on its head.

Maddie watched, enamored. Her son looked so happy, smiling so brightly.

“Oh, do you want some?” Danny asked, holding his feed-filled palm out to one of the sheep. The sheep licked the food out of his hand and he petted the curly wool.

True to what she had said, his little fangs were cute. And what’s more….

His eyes flickered towards Maddie’s face, noticing her attention. He didn’t stop smiling as he finished giving the goats, sheep, and donkey food and pets.

Ten minutes later, he turned over the empty cup. “That’s it guys. I’m out.”

The animals sniffed, wandering away as they seemed to realize they wouldn’t get any more food from the boy. That same enthusiastic goat persisted, nudging and licking Danny’s open hand. “I don’t have any more food for you.” He laughed. The goat bayed. “You can complain all you want. You’re not getting any more from me.” He petted the animal’s head anyway.

What’s more, seeing Danny enjoying himself and not turning away when Maddie noticed him smile, made the woman feel happy herself and hopeful. Spending time with the kids as a normal family did seem to get Danny and even Jazz in a better mood and more relaxed, like she and Jack had hoped. And Maddie found that she had enjoyed herself as well, despite the bumps. Yes, this was a day well spent and the mother wished it wouldn’t end.

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

But all too soon, the Science Center closed and the family had to leave. They piled into the GAV and as Jack started driving them home, the reality of what they’d have to face, the conversation they’d need to have once they got home, struck Maddie. Her insides flopped with sudden nerves. They needed to talk about it. Danny’s accident and his ghostly abilities. His alter ego, Phantom. The ghost fighting and resulting injuries. All the secrets. Guilt sunk in her stomach like rock. There needed to be apologies. For her and Jack’s part in the accident. For the times they’d ranted about capturing Phantom at the dinner table. The insults. The times they chased him, they shot at him. Danny’s fear filled face when they’d seen him change in that alley flash in her mind. They had terrified him and -

“Can we uh….can we stop somewhere for dinner?” Danny’s nervous voice cut through her thoughts.

Maddie frowned, glancing back at him. He was pale and biting at his lip. The woman furrowed her brow wondering at the sudden change in mood. Maybe he had picked up on her own nervousness. She glanced at her husband. Jack was also quiet and uncharacteristically focused on the road.

“We can.” Her eyes flickered in front of them, spotting a Nasty Burger a few blocks away. “There’s Nast Burger right there.” She frowned. “Wait. That one doesn’t have a dining room. Is eating in the cat alright?”

“Sure, Madds.” Jack nodded and turned into the parking lot less than a minute later. He rolled down the window after pulling up to order.

“Welcome to the Nasty Burger.” Came a voice through the speaker. “What would you like?”

After some deliberation, Jack recited the orders and pulled forward. He paid and then received the bags of food which he handed to Maddie. He pulled away from the window and parked. The woman surveyed the meals and passed Jazz and Danny’s food to them in the back seat.

The family ate in near silence for a while. Music softly filtered through the radio and outside was the sound of traffic but inside the vehicle, no one spoke. Maddie’s mind swirled, going over possibilities for the upcoming conversation. Where to start. How to approach this. Should they apologize first? Hint that they know about Danny’s secret identity. Just come right out and say it? Really, they should have done that long before now. They knew that Danny was Phantom and he knew that they knew. They should have talked to him about this weeks ago but...why was this so hard? How hadn’t they noticed sooner? Why couldn’t she just-

A gasp sounded in the back seat. Maddie stiffened, looking back in time to see a blue mist exit Danny’s mouth. The mother’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t cold enough to...Wait...understanding hit her as the boy’s eyes flickered side to side. Something glowing and green flashed in front of the GAV and there was an echoing roar.

Maddie paled. In front of them in the parking lot was a giant ghostly beast. It was a mix between a bear and a cat, snarling and hissing fiercely. The ghost growled at some teenagers sitting at a picnic table near the ordering window and in response, the kids bolted away, screaming.

Behind her, Danny was fumbling with his seat belt. His eyes widened panickedly as he looked between the scene in front of them and his parents. “I uh...I need to….” His hands were shaking as he fumbled over his words.

The mother glanced between her son and the attacking ghost. Part of her screamed to move; it was her job as a ghost hunter to protect people but….

“Uh...I need to...I need to go to the bathroom?” Danny stood, his knees knocking together even as his eyes flickered from his mom to the spectral attacker.

Maddie’s heart fell; she knew what this was actually about. “Danny.” She said softly.

Jazz bit her lip, turning from her brother to parents. “Shouldn’t you get...get out there?”

“Jazz.” The mother frowned. “Danny.”

“We’ll be fine.” The girl’s pitch rose as she flopped a hand, forcibly casual.

“Yeah.” The boy took a step back, eyes still pinned on his mother. “We’ll be fine. You guys go deal with the ghost.” He motioned behind him, towards the GAV’s toilet. “And I’ll just be in-”

“Danny!” Maddie interrupted. She stood up and turned, standing in the gap between the driver’s and front passenger’s seat. “We know. Danny. We know that you’re Phantom.”

The boy paled, his eyes widening with shock. “What? That’s not-”

Maddie pointed through the front window, forcefully. “Go.”

Danny’s lip trembled. Fear flickered over his face and underneath it, hurt. The mother’s eyes widened at the reaction before it hit her. She’d said the wrong thing. She’d messed up. Why do she keep-

“Go deal with the ghost, son.” Beside her, Jack had turned. His normally booming voice was so gentle. “You can change. Go deal with the ghost and we’ll be here when you get back.”

The boy stared at the man, anxiously searching his face. He was still shaking slightly and...were his eyes watering? Maddie remained frozen, watching. She wanted to speak up, to offer him comfort and reassurance. But the words stayed locked in his throat.

Then there was a roar outside, a boom. Danny’s head turned and he sprinted. Maddie blinked, paling as he literally passed through the closed door. A second later, something flashed out the corner of her eye. Maddie turned, watching as Phantom….Danny flew out in front of the GAV, shooting an ectoblast at the other ghost. Her knees shaking, Maddie fell into her seat. The bear-cat growled and shot a fireball at the ghost boy.

Maddie’s heart skipped a beat, her hand twitching over the door handle. They should go out there. She and Jack should be dealing with this. She reached for the holster on her belt. Her brow wrinkled as she found...nothing. Wait...she wasn’t in her hazmat suit. No belt, no holster, no ectogun. She frantically looked on the floor, before glancing behind her. There had to be something, someway to-

“Mom.” Jazz’s quiet voice came from behind her. “Danny will be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

Yes. Maddie nodded, trying to agree. She had seen Phantom in action and he was competent. But...this was...this was Danny. Danny was out there fighting the ghost. Her heart rate increased. “No. We need to-”

Jack’s hand was on her arm. “No. We can’t, Maddie.” His voice wavered. “No guns. Not..not after we….”

The woman swallowed, understanding. No. No. They could go out there, wheedling guns, not after….Maddie shivered as the memory hit her. Pointing a bazooka at Phantom….Danny… his eyes wide with fear. Chasing him down while yelling insults. Danny...Danny, her son, even if glowing and floating with green eyes and fangs...Danny dodging their shots.

Maddie felt her breath quicken. No, they couldn’t go after the ghost in their current state. They shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t dream of, pointing any ectogun in Danny’s general direction. Not when they hadn’t made sure their weapons won’t target him, that they couldn’t hurt him. Not when…..Danny’s fearful face, just minutes ago...not when he might think they...they wanted to hurt him.

Another growl and a crash and the mother’s head suddenly whipped up, just in time to see a flash of blue light. Floating twenty feet in front of them was Danny, holding a thermos and pointing it at the other ghost. The bear-cat hissed as it was sucked in but seconds later, it disappeared.

Maddie let out a relieved sigh, as her son caped the thermos. Then the boy’s head turned, his eyes meeting hers through the window. His shoulders were raised, his wide eyes misty. His lip trembled and then he disappeared.

The woman gasped, reaching forward. “Danny. Come back.”

The boy didn’t reappear and Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. Her hand reached for the door again. She needed to find her son, to reassure him, to -

A knock sounded at the side door, across from where Jazz and Danny had been sitting. Maddie flinched, looking back. Another knock.

Maddie frowned, brow furrowing. “I don’t see...anything.” Nothing and no one was visible through the window but...that didn’t mean no one was there.

“Danny.” Jazz called, standing. Warrily, she glanced between her parents. She bit her lip. “Mom? Dad?”

“Danny’s….Danny’s invisible, on the other side of the door. Isn’t he?” Maddie asked.

The girl nodded. “I think so.”

“You can open the door for him, Jazz.” Jack sighed. He looked down guiltily.

Hesitantly, the teenage girl stepped forward. Her hand hovered over the handle before she pulled it open. “It’s okay, Danny.” She whispered. “You can come inside.”

There was no reply as Jazz stepped back. The hair on the back of Maddie’s neck raised as the temperature dipped. Her eyes widened as the door slide closed, seemingly by itself. Then there was the shaky sound of someone sighing. And finally….Danny reappeared.

Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. There he was. The ghost boy. Phantom. Danny. Her Danny...her son, floating in the mind of the GAV. He trembled nervously in the air, his misty green eyes flickering between the ghost hunters. He looked so scared and...something in Maddie broke.

The woman stood up, suddenly. Her hands started shaking, her eyes watering. “Danny.” Her voice shook.

“Mom?” His echoing voice questioned.

Maddie nodded, hesitantly approaching. “Yes, sweetie.” She reached forward, gently touching his arm even as he flinched. “I love you so much.”

Danny’s eyes watered, his voice trembling. “You...you really mean that? Really? Even though I’m…I’m...” He shook his head, unable to force more words out.

Tears started to blur her vision. “Oh, baby. Yes. Yes. I love you so much.” Her breath quickened, a sob threatening to escape. “We...we should have said something sooner.”

“No. I….I should have…told you. I should have...” Danny looked down, sniffling.

Maddie gently pulled the boy into her arms. “I...I should have reassured you.” Danny stiffened before relaxing into the hug. “I should have made you feel safe, like you could trust me with this.”

Footsteps sounded behind him. “Danny boy.” Jack squeezed in beside the two. “I am so sorry, son. I love you so much.” The man wrapped his arms around his son and wife.

With that, Danny finally started crying. A soft sob broke forth from his throat. “Mom. Dad.” He whined. “I just... I’ve been waiting...waiting for the other shoe to drop and you’d see. You’d finally say...say something and…. And...” He sobbed. “You’d see what a monster...what a freak..a freak I...I am…”

“No. Danny. No. You’re not...you’re not a monster. You’re..You’re my baby boy….You’re my baby, no matter what. I’m...I’m so sorry you ever...we ever made you think….” Maddie cried, squeezing him tighter as he cried. He was cold. So cold. But solid in her arms. She could feel the slight fluttering of his heart, pressed up against her own heart. And the ectoenergy swirling under his skin. That was new, something she’d never felt before. And she thanked the heavens that she hadn’t, that she’d never laid hands on Phantom when they hadn’t known the truth, that they had never landed a shot on him. Maddie choked through her sobs. “We messed up. We messed up so badly. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need to do better.”

“Danny. I’m sorry.” Jack reassured, sniffling himself. “I’m so sorry too. I have so much to make up for. Me and your Mom...we...we will...we’ll make this up to you.”

Danny warbled. “Mom. Dad. I...I love you guys. I love you guys so much.”

The words pricked at Maddie’s heart as much as they uplifted her. All that they had done and he still said that. All the woman could find in herself to do right then was hold her son tighter.

For a second, the woman saw movement out of the corner to her eyes. A flash of red hair and...relief on Jazz’s face. The girl joined the group hug. “I love you little brother.”

Danny sniffled, nodding in acknowledgement even as he continued crying.

For a long moment, the family stayed huddled together. All of them were crying, trembling slightly with emotion. But through the sadness, another emotion broke through...relief. Danny sighed, the corner of his lip turning up slightly as his tears slowed.

Finally, the boy gently pulled out of their hold. He wiped his wet face. “You really...you really mean all that?” He looked between his parents. “You’re okay with….this?” He motioned up and down his body. “You’re okay that I’m a ghost? That I’m Phantom?”

Maddie offered him a watery smile. “Yes. I love you no matter what or who you are.” She placed one hand on his face and Danny’s lips parted just enough to see his fangs. “No matter what you look like, you’re my son.”

Dad nodded. “Fangs or no fangs. Ghost or human or….something inbetween.”

The woman glanced down, at the slow movement of his chest, the glow radiating from his body, the air below where he floated. “We don’t really understand this. But...I know I’d like to.”

For a moment, Danny looked worried. He floated back, away from Maddie’s hand.

Jack’s expression softened. “We want to know what life is like for you now. How we can help and support you.”

Maddie agreed. “We haven’t been there for you for a while but we’re here now.”

Danny nodded. “Okay….Okay...I think..I think I believe you.”

The parents looked at each other and Maddie’s stomach flopped. His tentativeness was understandable but still… it made her heart hurt. They’d lost much of Danny’s trust and would have to work to gain that trust back. They were fortunate he was willing to try rebuilding their relationship at all.

The mother sighed. “We do have a lot to talk about but….” She motioned around the crowded GAV. “We should go home first.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah.” With that, everyone stepped away, returning to their seats. The teenager glanced down at himself, blushing. “I’m still in...ghost form. I’ll just….” He bit his lip, closing his eyes.

Then a ring of white light, the same one that started all of this, formed around his waist. The light passed and Danny, now with black hair and blue eyes, gracefully touched down. He picked up his fast food bag and pulled out his half eaten burger. He took a bit before looking up at his parents, both of whom were standing and marveling at his recent transformation.

He smiled sheepishly. “Uhh...can we get milkshakes?”

Maddie blinked at the seeming random question. Beside her, Jack laughed. “Sure thing, Danno.” He walked to his seat and buckled. “What do you want? Peanut butter and bacon?”

Jazz wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Ew. Why would you eat that?”

Meanwhile, Danny laughed. “Because it’s delicious.” He addressed Jack. “Yeah Dad. That sounds amazing.”

The man nodded. “Madds, what about you?”

The question drew the woman out of her observation. She returned to her seat, answering. “Mint Chocolate chip sounds good to me.”

“I’ll do strawberry cheesecake.” Jazz piped in.

“Okay. Peanut butter bacon, mint chip, strawberry cheesecake.” The man listed off. “And I’ll do...peanut butter banana.”

Jack repeated the list while he pulled back into the drive through line. And Maddie sighed, relieved. Finally addressing Danny’s secret had not gone as she’d planned. But…. she glanced to the back to see Danny and Jazz were eating and chatting with each other, looking as relieved as she was. It went well, all things considered. As she said, there was much to figure out. But...today they’d had a fun time as a family. They’d relaxed, they’d bonded, they’d finally seen Danny smile again, after months. And...the truth was out. Apologies were made. After the fear, mistrust, and anxiety, Danny and Jazz as well knew that she and Jack would fully support Danny, ghost powers and Phantom alter ego included.

Maddie looked back, meeting Danny’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He gave her a fanged smile. Yes, it felt like...everything would be okay

#Danny Phantom #Phic Phight 2021 #Phic Phight #My fic #identity reveal #Maddie Fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton

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snackleggg · 3 years

Text

Loud music and hard of hearing conspiracy

~~~

An Unidentified Flying Ship one shot

~~~

The music was blaring loudly but from the hallway at least it was a little muffled. Not entirely, Wes could still pick out the words to whatever awful pop song was playing if he focused but it was muted enough that he could at least ignore it.

How did I end up here?

A week ago everything had been fine, normal. Then everything went downhill.

It started when everyone was getting hyped about prom because it was only a week away. What was once an occasional subject that was mentioned once or twice in conversation quickly dominated the forefront of everyone's minds.

Of course with it came everyone talking about dates and Wes had rolled his eyes at the relationship drama that would proceed the school dance.

"What about you Wes?" His twin brother Kyle had asked.

Wes at the time was glaring at Fenton from across the cafeteria, totally zoned out from the world around him and whatever conversation was going on at the table but his brother's question had reeled him back in.

He blinked, turning his attention to Kyle who sat beside him "What about what?"

"Are you going with someone to prom?" One of the others at the table asked. Oh so the conversation had drifted there.

Before Wes could answer no, he was going to be too busy trying to gather evidence to expose Fenton someone else at the table went "I'm pretty sure he wants to ask Fenton to prom"

Wes' brain blue screened for a moment but when he saw everyone at the table nodding he was immediately snapped out of his stupor "wha- NO! Of course not! Why would you even think!?" Wes fumbled but then Kyle put his hand on Wes' shoulder.

"Bro, no offence but we all know you have a crush on Fenton and that you're just using your conspiracy theories as an excuse" Kyle said while looking at Wes sympathetically.

"I don't- I'm not using anything as an excuse, Fenton is Phantom! How can you guys not see it!?" Wes said, he was pointedly ignoring the heat he felt rush to his cheeks.

Another person at their table just shook their head in pity "Oh you poor thing, still in denial about your feelings. You know well still accept you no matter your sexuality right Wes?" They said and Wes heard his brother mumble something about how sad it was Wes thought ghosts were real.

At this point Wes was left completely speechless at the way all his friends seemed to agree with the outrageous notion that he had a crush on Danny Fenton. A crush.

Wes just stood up and walked away with his tray of half eaten slop. He could hear his friends sighing over how hopeless and oblivious he was.

It didn't stop there though.

Later that day at home Kyle, Wes and their older brother Easton were in the living room together quietly doing their own things. Kyle doing some homework, Easton texting someone and Wes looking over all the pictures he had gotten of Phantom after the fight earlier that day, unfortunately all were too blurry to make out anything Wes could actually use as evidence.

Then Kyle broke the comfortable silence.

"Hey Easton, you think you can give Wes some advice for asking his crush to prom?" Kyle asked, not even looking up from the algebra equation he was doing.

If Wes had been drinking anything he would've done a spit take, instead he settled for just staring at his brother in growing horror.

"Hmm? Crush? Oh you mean Jazz's younger brother?" Easton asked as he looked up from his phone. Wes already knew that Easton was good friends with Jazz Fenton but he became even more horrified by the fact that he had immediately connect the 'crush' Kyle had mentioned to Danny Fenton.

Kyle just nodded and Wes was still too shocked to say anything as he looked between his brothers.

"Well, you can never go wrong with chocolates and just straight up asking" Easton said with a shrug before looking back down at his phone.

Finally Wes regained he ability to speak "NO! I don't have a crush on Fenton!" Wes exclaimed.

"Wes you shouldn't be embarrassed to ask for help. I'm your brother, you can't really hide the fact that you have a huge crush on Fenton from me" Easton said simply and some part of Wes was thankful that neither of his brothers are currently looking at him because he knew his face was probably almost as red as his hair.

The larger part of Wes though was shocked and horrified by what his brother had just said.

Not for the first time that day Wes just got up and left without another word.

The rest of the week didn't fair any better.

Anytime Wes inforned his brothers or friends that he was going to tail Fenton to finally expose that he was Phantom they just rolled their eyes before going "Are you finally going to ask him to prom?" And everytime without fail Wes would turn bright red before stomping off in whatever direction Fenton had ran off to, muttering under his breath about how he did NOT have a crush on Fenton.

Finally, Friday he snapped.

"WHY!? Why does everyone think I have a crush on Fenton!? I thought it was obvious that I hate him!" Wes yelled after Kyle had off handedly asked if he had asked Fenton to prom yet.

"Duh, it's because you're pretty much infatuated with him" Kyle stated like it was obvious.

"I'm NOT infatuated!" Wes said.

"Then what do you have to say about all those pictures you take of him? Or following him and his friends around? The fact that you have an entire notebook filled with little facts about him that no one else would care to notice?" Kyle pointed out.

"That's all evidence! It's me trying to expose that he is really Phantom!" Wes argued.

"Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that but you can't live in denial forever bro. I mean why would you need to keep a catalogue of his interests or have so many photos of him just being normal and not at all 'ghostly' " Kyle said while making air quotes "that stuff can't be used as evidence so why still keep it?"

"Because! Be... because..." Wes stopped. Why did he keep all of those things? They weren't particularly helpful in exposing Fenton so why?

"It's cause you like-like him. Prom is tomorrow so I'm sorry to say your denial made you miss your chance to ask him out" Kyle said while patting Wes on the back.

Wes once again stood from the couch and walk away, up to his room and slammed the door behind him.

He spent the whole rest of the day just laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling. He went to prom the next day because some of his friends insisted he couldn't miss it.

For most of the night he had felt numb, especially as he watched people dance and talk and laugh together while he practically glued himself to the wall.

Then he spotted Fenton and Wes was hit again with his brothers words 'it's because you're pretty much infatuated with him'.

Wes hated to admit it but Fenton actually looked good. He wore a white dress shirt with a dark green bow tie and black slacks. It was simple but he pulled it off quite well and Wes couldn't help but notice how the flashing lights of the gym reflected off of Danny's ice blue eyes. How the constantly changing angle of the light highlighted his face a hundred different ways and none of them looked unflattering, at least not to Wes.

The music was loud, he could barely hear people standing right next to him so of course Wes couldn't hear what Danny and Sam were talking about on the other side of gym but Danny seemed to laugh at something she said and Wes couldn't tear his eyes away. He could almost imagine the laugh in his head, light and easy becoming a soft chuckle towards the end.

Wes looked down at the plastic cup full of punch he held in his hand. He could practically smell that someone had spiked it.

He soon found himself stumbling out of the gym because everything was so bright and loud and he needed more space between himself and Danny, definitely more than just a gymnasium's length at least until he figured out why the heck he felt his face flush when he thought about Danny's laugh.

So that's how Wes ended up sitting on the cool tile floors of the school's empty hallway. The lights were off so it was dark but the smallest bit of light poured in through the high up windows front the street lamps outside so it wasnt pitch black, even if it was hard to make out any details of his surroundings.

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at the swirling cup of liquid in his hands.

Eventually he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and he didn't need to lift his head to know it was Danny.

"Hey Wes" Danny's familiar voice echoed a little in the empty hallway, it wasn't the same kind of echo that his voice gained when he was Phantom Wes absentmindedly noted. He heard Danny sit down next to him on the cool tile floor.

"What brings you out here? Would've thought you'd be in the gym with your friends" Danny said.

Wes jostled the cup a little with his hand before gesturing to it "I think someone spiked the punch" Wes said instead of giving a straight answer to Danny's question.

"Oh? Good thing I was never a fan of punch. You good?" Wes could've sworn he heard actual concern leak into Danny's voice.

"Yeah, I only took a few sips" Wes shrugged and he leaned backwards against the metal lockers that lined the walls.

"What about you? Why're you out here?" Wes could now see Danny in his peripheral vision quite well. His legs were spread out straight infront of him unlike how Wes had his knees tucked against his chest. He also seemed to be leaning against the lockers behind them, looking relaxed against the cool metal.

"Technus decided to try and take over the DJ booth. I managed to stop him pretty quickly but I needed a breather so I came out here" Danny said, making a vague gesture with his hand.

"Hmm" Was Wes' only reply. The source of all his troubles, both old and new was sitting right next to him and they were holding a proper conversation like real people. No threats of exposing identities, no witty banter or mocking remarks.

To someone who didn't know any better it would almost seem like they were on civil terms with eachother.

What kind of terms are we on?

They weren't friends, not by a long shot. But enemies seemed too strong a word now that Wes thought about it. It wasn't like they were physically hurting eachother like Danny's other enemies. It was less literal battling and more metaphorical and figurative battling.

But after tonight would I even be able to do that anymore?

Wes couldn't just ignore the revelation forced upon him. He wasn't one for ignoring the obvious and when Kyle presented the evidence he had to admit his feelings were a tad obvious.

A comfortable silence was now between the two and Wes turned his head to look at Danny directly. His breath caught in his throat.

Danny was completely relaxed leaning against the lockers behind him. His hair was slightly disheveled, more so than usual. His eyes were closed and he had a faint smile on his face. The dim light shining in made his pale skin look like it was glowing, giving him an ethereal look. Wes was pretty sure that he could only glow in ghost form but that didn't stop the way the light reflected to make it seem otherwise. Wes also became hyper aware of the fact that they were sitting very close to eachother, if he leaned to the side a bit they would be brushing shoulders.

'Yeah, super obvious' Wes thought as he felt a blush find it's way onto his cheeks.

Wes managed to pry his eyes away and looked back down at his cup of spiked punch.

"Screw it" he mumbled before downing the whole thing.

"Hmm? What was that?" Danny asked as he peeked an eye open.

"Screw it" Wes said louder as he grabbed Danny by his collar and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Danny froze in place as Wes pulled back. The blush stood out against Danny's pale skin and Wes knew he was probably as red as tomato as he spoke "Wanna go dance? With me?" Wes asked cautiously.

Danny blinked before a doppy smile found it's way onto his face "Yeah, sure" he said.

Wes pushed himself up and held out a hand which Danny took without a moment's hesitation.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #my writing #wes weston #kyle weston #easton weston #danny fenton #unidentified flying ship #ufs #one shot #ficlet #drabble #my first time writing Wes #how'd I do?

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Catch and Release

Long fic with over 9k words in which the reader is a bodyguard working for the Nostrades and is present at the events of Yorknew. Events in the Yorknew arc have also been altered

Warnings: kidnapping, threats of violence, degradation, kink talk, mentions of death, the reader makes some not very good choices

To say that it was nerve-wracking to be sitting in such close proximity of one of the Phantom Troupe would be a massive understatement. You, along with the other remaining bodyguards of the Nostrade family, had witnessed this man – the one Melody had heard being addressed as 'Uvogin' – slaughter an entire group of mafia bodyguards and four of the Shadow Beasts completely on his own.

And now that same man was sitting next to you in the backseat of the car, the only thing keeping him in place being Kurapika's chains.

Luckily, though, his attention wasn't on you.

“Hey, driver. You think these chains can hold me?” Uvogin sneered at Kurapika, “if you don't kill me now, you'll regret it later.”

“Shut up.”

It seemed that you and Melody had the same idea to keep quiet and avoid attracting attention to yourselves, as you both kept your mouths shut and avoided eye contact. You didn't feel safe in that car. With either of those men. Even though he was on the same side as you, Kurapika had been out of control earlier, and with how much clear hatred he had for the cannibalistic murderer sat next to you, you worried that he would snap and endanger everyone again. Hopefully Melody would be able to calm him down if it came to that.

“Don't you understand? This is a golden opportunity,” he continued to taunt.

“Stop wasting time and just-”

The chains around him tightened and you could hear him grunting in pain.

“I told you to shut up!” Kurapika yelled, as he went as far as to turn around in his seat to glare at his captive, ignoring Melody's pleas for him to watch the road.

Uvogin was clearly taken aback by Kurapika's abilities, struggling against the hold of the chains as best he could in his weakened state. He had been shot at point blank range with a anti-tank cannon, and now it was chains that were doing him in.

You silently prayed Kurapika's hold on him would remain tight; it would be so easy for this giant to lean over and take a bite out of your head. You happened to have the binoculars at the exact moment he did that to one of the Shadow Beasts, and of all the things you had witnessed tonight, that had been among the most disturbing. Either Kurapika's chains were able to keep his movements restricted enough, or Uvogin just hadn't thought to do that yet.

The death-glares were still being exchanged between the two men with Melody becoming increasingly insistent for Kurapika to keep his eyes on the road. Not wanting the car to crash, you were about to try and get Kurapika's attention back on the road as well when Dalzollene suddenly called.

“Kurapika, floor it! It's a tail!” your boss's voice sounded over the phone.

“A tail? But who-”

You all seemed to have the same thought, using gyo to look over Uvogin. A needle stuck out of his thigh, a thin nen thread leading past your face and out the window.

“Shit,” you hissed, pulling the needle out and tossing it through the window as you rolled the glass down. It vanished into the night as Kurapika sped up. It had to have been the rest of the Phantom Troupe following.

You stayed twisted in your seat, looking back at a car that was following. It would be hard to lose them in the desert, and it seemed unlikely that your group would be able to make it to the city to ditch them.

Then, though you had a hard time making it out, you saw something fall onto the hood of that car, and it suddenly began to move about like no one was controlling it. The headlights behind Dalzollene's car completely vanished after that brief commotion, and after a few moments, it seemed as though they had been stopped.

“I don't think they're following us anymore,” you said. One could hope, at least.

“Not sure why they stopped, though,” you added.

“It doesn't matter,” Kurapika said.

Surprisingly, Uvogin had been quiet the whole time. When you turned back around and glanced over at him, he was staring blankly at the ceiling of the car, his anger from mere moments before seemingly dissipated.

“This is our chance to hurry back to the city,” Dalzollene spoke again.

“Roger that,” Kurapika answered.

“We'll switch the location to pattern C,” Melody said. She then looked back to you.

“We don't want muscles here putting up a fight. You can do that, right?”

“Of course,” you answered.

Now was not the time to lose your composure; right now, you needed to prove that you did have value as a hunter working for the Nostrade family.

Bringing up your arm and holding your palm so it was facing up, you focused your nen, and a small anemone bloomed in the center of your hand. You turned to face Uvogin, who was looking at you now, an eyebrow raised in question as he looked at the flower made of nen in your hand. You blew softly at the flower, causing the petals to flutter off and into his direction.

“The fuck is that supposed-”

Uvogin couldn't get any more than that out before the petals hit him, vanishing as your nen entered his system and forced him into a deep sleep. He slumped forward, and you were finally able to relax slightly, now that you didn't have to fear immediate death from a man who proved he could kill without the use of his arms or legs.

“Don't relax just yet,” Melody chided, “we still need to get him into a secure location.”

You nodded.

“Right. Sorry.”

You felt better when he awoke next. For one thing, you weren't stuck with him in a tiny, confined space, instead standing to the right of Dalzollene and having more than just Kurapika and Melody with you, as the entirety of the remaining hunters were surrounding him. It also helped that he had been completely strapped down to the metal table that took up the majority of the room, various restraints and wires around his neck and limbs keeping him secured.

Though with the way those bonds seemed to be straining against his muscles, you had to wonder if they'd be as effective if he didn't have the drugs that Dalzollene had pumped into him earlier.

He looked about the room after waking up, taking in all of you that surrounded him. His gaze seemed to linger slightly longer on Kurapika, you noted.

“Do you understand what's happening here?” Dalzollene asked, “where did you put the stolen merchandise?”

Uvogin seemed unconcerned, sighing a bit as he glanced at the hunters around him.

“What time is it?” he asked.

He spotted you, and asked “how long have I been asleep?”

You kept your mouth shut, instead looking over to Dalzollene, who seemed to have grown angry with Uvogin's nonchalance about the situation. Pulling his sword forward, Dalzollene readied himself for a strike.

“It seems that you don't grasp your current situation,” he growled, “I'm asking the questions here!”

He thrust the sword downwards, intending to stab the spider in the leg.

Uvogin's aura flared, and the tip of the sword broke off as it struck him. The piece of metal went flying into a breaker box on the other side of the room, lodging itself deep inside of it.

The noise echoed in the room briefly, and then silence overtook it. To think that even with those drugs in his system, Uvogin still kept his composure and was still able to use his nen so freely. He stayed quiet, looking blankly at the ceiling again. This man truly was something else.

He looked to Squala.

“Let's make a deal.”

“What?”

You hadn't even realized you had said that aloud until he looked over at you in response.

“I'll spare your lives, so let me up now,” he said to you.

“Huh? Wh-what is he saying?” Squala asked, looking to Melody, “is he insane?”

Although you and the rest stayed quiet, you were certain that sentiment was shared by most of your fellow bodyguards.

“He's serious. I think,” Melody answered.

It was easy to write this man off as just being insane, but when you thought about it more, it wasn't like that: the Shadow Beasts, nen masters who were more powerful than you could ever hope to be, had been so easily disposed of by this man. If he could take care of them within a matter of minutes, the rest of you didn't stand a chance. And he knew this. He was literally only making this offer because it would be less of a hassle for him.

Strange to think that this was likely Uvogin being charitable.

“Let me make something clear: We're after the auction merchandise that was stored underground,” Uvogin explained, “if you guys don't know where it is, I have no business with you.”

A beat of silence passed as everyone took in his words, broken by Basho as he began to talk, clearly annoyed by Uvogin's words.

“Wait a moment,” Melody said, interrupting him.

“You didn't steal the merchandise?” she asked Uvogin.

“The safe was empty when we arrived. The Shadow Beasts had already taken it all. I guess they didn't bother telling grunts like you.”

His words stung a bit, forcing you to acknowledge just how low the Nostrades were on the mafia social ladder, but to you, it didn't seem that he was trying to pick a fight or get a rise out of anyone. He was simply explaining the situation and calling it as he saw it: you and the others were insignificant, and even after going as far to kidnap and drug him, he saw all of you as being so little of a threat that he was willing to forget about it.

You didn't need Melody to tell you that he was telling the truth.

Squala was sent into a mild panic at the realization that Uvogin wasn't bluffing, and the way the spider smirked at that panic made everyone tense.

And then his gaze went to you.

“Everyone makes mistakes. We haven't stolen anything yet,” he said, and then looked back to Dalzollene, “so take these off, and pretend you didn't see anything.

“If you do that, you get to live.”

His words sent a chill down every spine in the room, and despite your best efforts to stop it, your hands began to tremble, forcing you to clench your fists so hard that your nails dug into the palms of your hands.

Everyone seemed to be in a similar state as you.

Everyone, except Kurapika.

“What about the guests?” he asked.

“Guests?”

“The guests who were in the auction hall. Some of our colleagues were there.”

It was a terrible thing to admit, but in the midst of everything that had happened that evening, you'd managed to forget about the hunters who had gone to the auction. They were likely dead. And Kurapika had to have known that.

Another thing you had managed to forget was Kurapika's reckless behavior from earlier. Perhaps you should have been impressed that he had kept his composure for this long. But if there had been any chance of your boss deciding to take Uvogin's deal in exchange for your lives, you could just feel that Kurapika was about to put an end to that.

“I see. That's too bad,” said Uvogin, “we killed them. It was part of our plan-”

Kurapika punched him in the face as anger clouded his judgment again, his expression turning to one of rage has he yelled “how many lives do you think you took to carry out that plan of yours?!”

Before he could get another punch in, Basho stepped forward and pulled the younger man away, yelling at him to stop.

Uvogin didn't seem upset at all, despite the bruise on his face and the blood coming from his nose. If anything, he seemed amused.

“If the merchandise is in safe hands, we don't need him. We'll hand him over to the community,” Dalzollene said, having regained his composure during Kurapika's outburst.

Uvogin wasn't paying attention to him, but instead was still grinning up at Kurapika.

“So no deal?” he joked.

You all left the room as Dalzollene stayed behind to double-check the restraints on Uvogin, but before you could exit, he instructed you to wait for him in the next room. Kurapika, Melody and the others went down the hall to another room while you stood outside the cell door. It worried you that Dalzollene had asked you to wait, and you had a bad feeling he was going to tell you to keep watch in the room where the prisoner was being held.

“I just made sure that he was attached securely to that table, and I've put in another dose of those muscle relaxants,” Dalzollene said to you as he came out of the room, “but just to make sure he doesn't do anything, I want you to wait in there until people from the community come for him.”

God fucking dammit.

“You think he'll be able to get out even with all of that?” you asked.

“No, but I want to make certain that he can't try anything,” he answered, “we've all seen what he's capable of, and I don't want to risk him bringing down this whole building just from his shout. If he looks like he's going to do anything, I want you to knock him out again. Among those of us who are left, you and Kurapika are the only ones who can do that easily.”

He sighed.

“And with how Kurapika has been acting, I can't trust him to not do something stupid, especially if he were to be left alone with him. So that just leaves you.”

“Okay boss,” you said, nodding slowly.

“If you think you can get any information out of him, then do it,” he continued, “but overall, just keep him in line.”

Dalzollene dismissed you with a wave of his hand, heading to the desk on the other side of the room, presumably to make whatever calls he needed to the community. You could hear him muttering something under his breath, something about wishing Baise were here instead.

Going back into that room was the last thing you wanted to do – especially when you would be completely alone with him – but you forced your legs to carry you back to that door.

Uvogin's eyes were on you the second you entered that room, making a chill run through you as he looked you over. You ignored it as best you could, situating yourself next to the door and leaning against the wall.

“So you'll be keeping me company while we wait for those mafia idiots to come and get me?” Uvogin asked.

You had really been hoping that he wouldn't talk, that he would be more like he had been in the car, or after he'd woken up. Dealing with him not speaking and staring at nothing would have been easier, but it seemed like he was riled up after Kurapika's outburst, and now you were the only one left for him to take it out on. And of course, now you had no excuse to disobey Dalzollene's orders to try and get information out of him.

“Looks like it,” you answered.

“Hm. Guess I lucked out with that,” he said, “you're easier on the eyes than some of those others in your group.”

'Please just shut the fuck up,' you thought to yourself.

“What, going to give me the silent treatment? You were pretty quiet earlier, too.”

He paused, thinking of something.

“You mad about your friends, too? Did we kill someone important?”

“.... Not really. I barely knew them,” you admitted.

He let out a low whistle.

“That's cold. At least that other guy cared.”

“It is what it is,” you said.

Maybe if you just kept your answers short, he'd give up on talking to you.

But probably not.

“So then this is purely business for you?” he asked.

You said nothing, keeping your gaze on the floor.

“Is it worth losing your life over this?”

You couldn't help the way you tensed, and he chuckled at you when you when you crossed your arms over your chest. You were trying to appear nonchalant, but he saw right through it.

“It looks like the others have made their choice,” Uvogin said, “but my deal is still open for you: let me go, and I'll make sure you live.”

“I can't do that,” you answered.

“You were watching while I took out those mafia, right? You really think it's safer to side with people that weak? When I get out, you can be damn sure they won't be able to protect you.”

“If I let you out I'd need protection from them,” you snapped, “and right now I'm more scared of my boss than I am of some guy who's going to be tortured to death.”

“Hmm. Your boss, huh?” he said, looking back over to where the sword tip was still jammed into the breaker box.

“Can't say he impresses me. And you can't be anything special if a guy like that can keep you in line.”

Your eyes stayed on the floor, and you refused to react to the taunt. It wasn't like he was wrong.

“I can't help but wonder. Why the hell is someone like you involved with a mafia family?”

You stayed quiet.

“I asked you a question,” he growled.

His tone sounded dangerous, and it spurred you to reply.

“I need the money,” you said.

“What for?”

“That's private.”

He laughed.

“Well now I really want to know. What, you looking to save up for something? You got a boyfriend waiting for you back home?”

It wasn't anything like that, but you weren't about to explain yourself to him. You worried you might need to tell him something anyway. He seemed amiable enough at the moment, but it looked like his mood could change pretty fast.

“What's your name?” he asked suddenly.

“.... Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

Uvogin was the prisoner of the Nostrade family, and yet he was clearly in control of the conversation you were having as you complied with his request and told him your name.

“So how long have you been working for these idiots?”

“.....”

“Oh come on! Is it going to hurt that bad to answer a few questions? You said yourself that I'm going to be tortured to death, what's the harm in humoring a dying man?” he asked, “you think they're going to ask me about you?”

The 'you' at the end was virtually spat out, as if to cement the fact that you really meant nothing to anybody. Looking over to the camera that was in the far corner of the room, you wondered if Dalzollene could hear the two of you. If he could, he hadn't yet felt like he needed to step in. Your boss had told you to get information if you were able, but given how this was going, you weren't sure if it was possible to accomplish that.

“I... I only just started working for them,” you answered, “a lot of us were hired just for this job.”

“Just for the auction?”

“Yeah. Our boss wanted to bid on some of the items.”

“I'm guessing your boss wasn't among those that we killed,” he said.

“What makes you think that?”

“Because why would you grunts go after us if there was nobody to sign the paycheck for you? If it was just one of you with a vendetta I'd get it, but all of you? Nah. The majority of you would have run off the second you lost your reason to care.”

…. His reasoning was pretty sound, though you hated to admit it.

“So who all did die at the auction?” he asked, “just a bunch of the new hires?”

“No,” you mumbled, “only one of them was.”

Uvogin scoffed.

“Too bad for them. But I'd say they were luckier than you.”

“They were lucky?”

“Yeah. They're deaths would have been pretty quick. But none of you are going to have a that luxury when the rest of the troupe finds you.”

It would be telling him too much to mention that you were almost one of those casualties. Originally you had been assigned to go to the auction with Tocino and Ivlenkov, but Baise had approached you and asked to swap places. She said that she was curious about the auction and wanted to see it for herself. It didn't matter much to you either way, so you had agreed, taking her place outside the auction house with Linssen and Basho. It was a simple decision, and one that had saved your life while it condemned hers.

Telling him all that would be far too much.

“You've gone quiet again,” Uvogin said, “you sure we didn't kill someone you cared about?”

“I told you, this is just business for me,” you answered, “I'm surprised you care at all. I would have thought it would be the same for you.”

“Oh, it's business for me as well. But this is a job I do because I enjoy it. If I see something I want, I take it. I don't give a shit about money.

“You'd probably be happier if you didn't care as much about money.”

“Good for you; not everyone can live like that,” you said dryly.

“More people should. It would make things more interesting.”

“I'm sure it would,” you sighed.

“Don't be like that. We'll probably be stuck in here for a while before those idiots come for me, so might as well make the most of it.”

“..... You're not worried about the community getting you.”

“Why should I be?” Uvogin asked, “you saw what happened with the Shadow Beasts, right? If that's the mafia's best, what do I have to be worried about?”

“Might be different when you're in custody,” you said, “they might have someone who can get through that nen shield of yours.”

Uvogin snorted.

“Doubt it. No one can take me down.”

“Except my colleague.”

Uvogin scowled at that and glared at you. You tensed again, readying your nen in case you needed to knock him out, unsure if he would let out another earth-shattering yell or start spitting pieces of human skull at you. With the strength and power he had demonstrated, you were grateful for the drugs Dalzollene had put into him, because the more you looked at that muscled body, the more you were certain that the restraints on their own weren't enough to keep him down.

“Yeah, except for him,” he hissed, “and you. I'd say it was impressive that you two incapacitated me and managed to not die afterwards, but sneak attacks have never done much for me, and they never work twice. Neither of you will catch me off-guard again.”

“I don't think we really need to,” you answered carefully, “you're not really going to be our problem after you're collected.”

He grinned at you again.

“Feel free to believe that.”

There wasn't much you could respond to that with, so you stood there in silence. The community couldn't get here soon enough. This situation was stressing you out more than anything else you had ever been through, and this was only your second day in Yorknew. If the mafia was able to get things under control, there would still be a few more days of the auction that you'd need to participate in for Neon's sake. And that was if the rest of the Phantom Troupe didn't try anything else for the rest of the days.

If the Phantom Troupe was as tight-knit as Uvogin was making them out to be, there was a chance they would come after all of you in retaliation.

Why the hell did you get yourself mixed up in underworld business?

“Oh, that reminds me – I might die before the community comes to get me,” Uvogin said.

“What?”

“That fat bastard from the Shadow Beasts infested me with leech eggs,” he explained, “apparently they're going to hatch inside of me and when they do I'll die. You might want to help me out with that unless your boss wants to hand over my dead body to the mafia.”

“..... I saw you being shot at by an anti-tank cannon. You seriously expect me to believe that you'd be done in by baby leeches?” you asked.

“It's a bit different when something is hatched inside of you,” he said, grinning as he continued “but I guess I can't force you. It's not like it's on me if I die before I can be interrogated.”

There was no doubt it would be bad if he died before he was in community custody, and since you were the only one with him, the blame would probably fall on you.

“How long before they hatch?”

“Who knows.”

The way he said that made it seem like he was lying, and with the way he grinned, it seemed like he knew that you knew and that you couldn't do anything about it. The man's body in the picture frame at the Nostrade mansion came to mind, and if that was what Dalzollene was capable of when it came to a slip-up, who knew what would happen if you failed on this.

Pushing off of the wall, you sighed.

“I can't take out the leeches,” you said.

“But,” you continued before he could say anything else “I can slow down their hatching process.”

Holding out your hand, another flower bloomed in your palm. This time it was a lotus. Just as you had done earlier, you blew on it softly, and the petals fell off and flew towards him, vanishing as they landed on his abdomen.

He watched in silence as the petals vanished before looking back to you.

“You said you were only slowing it down?” he asked.

“Yeah. I usually only use this to slow down a bad wound from bleeding out too much,” you explained, “but it should work for this. However long it'll take for those leeches to hatch, it'll take twice as long now. So if you only had 24 hours, it's now 48. That should be long enough for whatever the community does to you.”

“Hmm. You did something different in the car,” he mused, “what nen type do you have? Conjuration?”

You didn't answer, not wanting to tell him any more about your nen ability.

“So I'm right?”

“.....”

“C'mon, sweetheart. You can't answer that question?”

“I think I've been pretty good about answering your questions,” you said.

“Yeah, and I've got a feeling it's supposed to be the other way around. That boss of yours told you to interrogate me, right? And you can't even do that much,” he sneered.

“I came to the conclusion that trying to ask you anything would be a waste of time,” you snapped back, “you're not going to give me any meaningful answers so why bother talking to you about anything important?”

He seemed amused by your reply.

“Took you a while to finally snap. But how long will that last?”

'Stop responding,' you told yourself. That brief burst of anger that had built up purely because of how annoying he was insisting on being dissipated before he had even finished speaking, and by this point, you had just been ridiculed for far too long.

Uvogin demanded that you speak again, and even though you tensed again at the way he growled that order, this time you refused to say anything. He glared at you, and you readied your nen, preparing to knock him unconscious.

He tsked, but did nothing else, looking bored as he watched the ceiling. You didn't lower your guard, though, still watching for any sort of sign that he would try something.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, waiting for him to make a move.

When he did say something again, you managed to not come off as startled as you were.

“Was it also part of your instructions to be staring at me the whole time?” he asked, “not like I'm going anywhere.”

“I was under the impression that you liked having eyes on you.”

“Sure, I like the eyes of my victims on me before I kill them.”

You couldn't help letting out a little bit of a laugh at the corny threat. His eyes snapped over to you instantly.

“Something funny?”

His voice was low and dangerous, and the more sensible part of you knew that it was smarter to ignore him again. But the petty side of you wanted to see if you could upset him as a miniature vengeance for how the conversation had gone earlier.

“Yeah,” you answered, “I was just thinking that you're pretty lucky that it's me watching you and not one of my colleagues that you killed. She had the ability to make men fall in love with her by just kissing them. If she'd been here, she'd have had you spilling your guts about everything. She also would've had you liking the way you were tied up. Maybe have you begging her to step on you.”

You tilted your head to the side slightly as you smirked.

“That would have been pretty embarrassing for you, but it also would've been pretty funny for the rest of us.”

He didn't say anything.

You expected some sort of response. Maybe some outrage, maybe some threats, maybe even managing to flip your taunt back on you in some way and continuing to dominate the conversation as he had been the whole time. There was definitely anger in the way he looked at you, someone so much weaker than himself mocking him, but he still said nothing, just frowning as he looked back to the ceiling.

That made you more on edge than if he had begun to yell at you.

The air between you two was far more uncomfortable than it had ever been, and you found yourself wishing that the people from the community would show up already.

“You really don't pull off the tough act very well, sweetheart,” Uvogin said.

“But congratulate yourself on managing to piss me off.”

He said nothing more than that, continuing to stare at the ceiling as if he hadn't said anything at all.

Fuck you messed up.

The regret from saying the things you did hit you like a bucket of cold water. Why the hell did you do that?

The sound of the door opening made you jump, forcing you to stand to attention as Dalzollene walked in.

“The people from the community should be here soon,” he told you, “I'll meet with them when they arrive, so you go to the room where the others are.”

Before you could answer, you heard Uvogin scoff behind you.

“Making sure all of your subordinates are gone so you can get the full credit?” he asked, the distaste clear in his voice. He looked over to you, asking “why do you follow a guy like this?”

“You should be worrying about yourself, not her,” Dalzollene snapped.

He motioned for you to leave, which you did. You looked back one last time before the door closed behind you.

Uvogin looked bored again.

Not even five minutes had passed after entering the room with the others when Uvogin's roar echoed through the building, shaking the foundation and making you cover your ears in a feeble attempt to protect your hearing. There was no time to question what had happened; Melody ordered everyone to follow her, and you all did, running down to the express elevator and piling yourselves into the car as you heard walls being smashed behind you. For whatever reason, no one came after you, and you were all able to escape back to the hotel where Neon was staying.

It wasn't hard to figure that Dalzollene had been killed, and now there was no leader and a very angry spider who would be coming after you for revenge.

The events that followed were like a whirlwind for you: Kurapika was voted in as the new leader, Light Nostrade was coming in the next day to take Neon back, and then Kurapika realized that sensitive information regarding the Nostrades and the buildings they owned in Yorknew was available on the Hunter website, and from that, he had determined that Uvogin would find your current location. You'd then needed to move Neon and all of her things into a new room at the same hotel while Kurapika stayed in the top suite to wait for him.

“His focus will be on me,” Kurapika had said, “as long as the rest of you stay in the new room and don't come out, he'll leave you alone.”

You were happy to listen to his instructions and had been ready to wait for him to take care of Uvogin once he arrived.

But then Neon started complaining about something.

Evidently she had lost a cellphone charm, probably in the other room, and was throwing another tantrum until she could get it back. The two women who worked as her servants were, understandably, a bit nervous to go out into the halls while everyone waited for the spider to arrive. So you had volunteered to go for them, making a bit of a show for Neon as you said that you would go get it and for her to wait for you to come back. That had seemed to calm her down, and the one servant, Elisa, whispered a small “thank you” as you left. You weren't stupid enough to go back up to the top suite, however. The last thing you wanted was to be caught in the crossfire. So instead you planned to hang out somewhere on one of the lower floors, and then you'd go back up for Neon once you had gotten confirmation that everything was safe. Hopefully during that time the servants would be able to placate Neon until you got back.

You made your way down a few flights of stairs before picking a random floor where you would wait.

The door opened before you could grab the knob.

Uvogin stood there.

Time seemed to stop as the two of you looked at each other, his eyes widening in surprise as you looked at him in shock. You were completely alone with him, again, and this time there was nothing restraining him.

You were going to die unless you did something now.

It took only a few seconds for your nen to conjure a flower you could use to get out of this situation. But it was a few seconds too long. Before you could bring your hand up Uvogin had grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall in the stairwell, holding you at eye level so you were several feet off the ground. Your hands went up to your neck as you tried to pry his fingers off when he began to squeeze.

“I was wondering if I'd see you again,” he said, “I thought maybe you'd have run away from Yorknew after last night. Good to see that you stuck around.”

Black splotches were starting to appear at the edge of your vision, and you let out a pathetic wheezing sound as you tried to get in a breath.

“Need to breathe already? I guess I can do that if you do something for me first. Blink if you understand.”

The grip around your neck left you unable to concentrate and form something with your nen, so you complied, blinking at him.

“Good. Now, blink once for 'yes', twice for 'no',” he said, “is the chain-user up there?”

You blinked once.

“Good.”

True to his word, his grip on your throat relaxed slightly, and you took in a few desperate gulps of air while he chuckled at you.

“Not so fun when you're the one being held against your will, is it?” Uvogin asked. When you didn't respond, his eyes narrowed and he growled “huh? Didn't I ask you a question?”

“N-no...” you said, finally finding your voice.

“That's what I thought,” he sneered, “before the night is over that chain-user is going to learn a few things, too.”

He looked up at the stairway.

“I'm guessing he's waiting up there for me.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “he-he knew you'd be coming, and he wants to f-fight you by himself.”

That blood-thirsty grin appeared on his face and you shuddered.

“That's great. I can't wait to pummel that guy into nothing.”

He looked back to you.

“But what do I do with you? I can't just let you go, can I?”

His grip was becoming tighter again. Your struggles were renewed, clawing as best you could against him and trying to push him away with your feet.

“Wait-!” you began.

“Settle down.”

He pushed himself against you, the arm that held you up now pressing uncomfortably against your chest while the other went down to hold your leg in place against the wall.

“Where'd that sass from earlier go? Or were you acting like that just because you thought you were safe when I was chained up?”

“Wait-!” you tried again.

“Should've taken my deal,” said Uvogin, “then you wouldn't be here, begging for your life like a pathetic wretch.”

“No-!”

“The underworld is a nasty place, sweetheart. You should've realized that before you signed up for this. I gave you a chance and you threw it away. Now you have nobody to blame but yoursel-”

You had continued to struggle, your free legging pushing against him as best you could, and somehow, one of his legs had ended up between yours, and when his thigh had brushed against your clothed cunt, you gasped.

He stopped talking, looking slightly confused until he looked down.

Moments that felt like small eternities passed in silence while you continued to pull at his hand, managing to wrap one hand around his thumb.

Uvogin began to laugh.

“What, you like that?” he asked, pushing himself harder and grinding against you. You couldn't help the way you blushed, and the shame you felt was overwhelming when he continued to laugh at your expense. The noises leaving your mouth didn't help either, and they didn't stop even when you bit down on your lip to try and keep quiet.

“I didn't peg you for a slut, but I guess you learn something new every day,” Uvogin said, clearly enjoying himself as he continued his ministrations.

“Stop! I don't want this!” you yelled.

“Don't lie to me sweetheart. Not when it's written all over your face just how much you enjoy this.”

He grinned at you.

“You mentioned something earlier about me liking being chained up and wanting to be stepped on,” he whispered, “was that you trying to tell me what you wanted to see?”

“No!”

“I can't believe that. It was too specific of a thing to bring up without being into it. You liked seeing me tied up, huh? Do your colleagues know about that? Do they know how much of a desperate slut you are? I wonder....”

He trailed off, then leaned in closer to whisper directly into your ear.

“Do those nasty little kinks of yours go both ways? Would you like it if I chained you up and tossed you around? What else are you into? I'd love to find out.”

Your hands left his one that held your throat, pushing against his face to try and get him away from you. He didn't budge, not even slightly. All you accomplished was him laughing at you again while your pride was slowly torn to pieces.

Without any warning he let you go, and you tumbled to the floor in front of him. You scrambled back into the corner of the stairwell, one hand raised as you prepared to defend yourself. Uvogin remained relaxed, smirking down at your shaking form in the corner.

“Don't bother trying to do anything; I'm not going to let you hit me with that again,” he said, “if anything you should be grateful.”

“.... Grateful?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah, because I'm going to let you live.”

“Huh?”

“Tch. That's all you can say to that?” he scoffed, “be a little more happy; you're not dying tonight.”

He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Once I take care of that chain-user, I'll be back for you. I was actually thinking you might be worth leaving alive anyway; I think my boss might like certain aspects of your abilities. And once he's taken them, I'm sure he won't care if I keep you for myself afterwards.”

You were lost for words and could only shake your head at him.

“I told you earlier,” he said, “the underworld is a nasty place; you've got no one but yourself to blame.”

Finally, finally, he turned and began to make his way up the stairs, leaving you in that corner while you tried to process what just happened and the things he had said. You wanted to run, to at least get out of that stairwell and into a space that felt safer, but until Uvogin was further up those stairs and far away from you, you stayed still.

He paused when he began up the second flight of stairs, looking back to you and speaking your name in a way that made you tense again.

“You can try to run if you want,” he said, his tone more serious and seeming much more collected, “but if you try that, I will find you. And things will be much, much worse for you if you run away, you can count on that.”

He grinned, and somehow this one seemed deadlier than any other you had seen thus far.

“I'll be seeing you.”

And with that, Uvogin continued to make his way up the stairs and to the top suite where Kurapika waited. You heard his footsteps echoing against the metal of the stairs, getting softer as he went further and further up, but you still didn't move. Only when you could barely hear him on the stairs did you finally get up.

Bursting through the door, you all but scrambled to get to somewhere safe. You were a mess, your thoughts all over the place and emotions running wild, and all you could do was pray to whatever God might be listening that Kurapika would be able to dispose of that man.

In his state of zetsu, Shalnark standing behind a corner went unnoticed by you as you ran off. Had he not been listening to your conversation with Uvogin, he would have killed you right there. But instead, he smiled to himself, waiting until you were out of the way completely before entering the stairway himself and continuing to follow Uvogin as he had been all afternoon.

Kurapika didn't come back.

The late night had transformed into morning, and he didn't come back.

The immediate thought shared by the group was that he was dead, and the second one was that Uvogin was going to be coming back for the rest of you.

Basho and Melody were the ones doing best at keeping level heads and trying to keep the group calm. Just because Kurapika isn't back yet doesn't mean he's dead, Melody had told all of you. He'll be back, she assured you.

God you wished you could believe that.

It had been determined that you all should wait until Light Nostrade made it in, then he and Neon would leave with a few of the bodyguards while the rest moved to a different building to continue with the auction. At this point, bidding in an auction was one of the last things you wanted to do, but you had a bad feeling that you wouldn't be one of the lucky bodyguards that would be leaving with the Nostrades.

Uvogin's words repeated themselves in your mind, and every time his name was mentioned you couldn't help the way you shuddered. No one seemed to notice that, however.

Except Melody.

She caught you in the late afternoon when you were alone and asked what was troubling you, citing how rapidly your heart would beat when Uvogin's name was mentioned.

The emotions that you'd been trying to bottle up overflowed and you broke down, full-on crying in front of her as you told her everything. From the time with him in that room to when he'd caught you in the stairwell, you told her every little thing he had said to you, every threat he had made and just how terrified you were of him coming back to get you like he said he would.

Melody had been horrified at your confession, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, you felt genuine compassion from another human being. She held you and rubbed your back in a soothing motion as you sobbed into her.

“He won't get you, I promise,” she said, “everything will be okay. But I'll make sure that you go back with the boss tonight, alright?”

You didn't answer. You just tried your best to calm yourself, wiping away your tears while sobs still hiccuped from your throat.

“Maybe some fresh air would do you some good. Basho was complaining that there weren't any good snacks in the building. How about you run down to the store and grab some things for everyone?” Melody suggested.

“Should.. Should I really leave? Right now?” you asked.

“I'm sure it'll be fine. It's just a quick run to the store, right?”

“.... Okay.”

Grabbing a hoodie on your way out, you pulled up the hood and kept your face down, trying to hide the fact that you had been crying. It felt strange to run such an errand during a time like this, but maybe Melody was right and it would be good for you. And maybe by the time you came back, Kurapika would have returned.

With two plastic bags full of junk food and a few drinks, you had exited the convenience store at the corner, the bell on the door ringing as you stepped outside. There had been a bit of a line behind you so when you were given the change from the cashier, you had hastily thrown it into one of the bags as you were eager to keep the line moving. After leaving the store, you stepped to the side of the building, your back facing the street as you began to dig through the bag you had thrown the change into. It wasn't like it was even that much, but you didn't like the idea of just leaving it in there with everything else.

As your sole focus was on reaching around inside of that bag for the change that had made its way to the very bottom, you didn't notice the large group of people that had come up and were passing by you.

Not until you heard a familiarly deep, boisterous voice that made you freeze.

He was talking to someone, saying something about still being mad that they had followed him. A different voice responded saying that it was a good thing they had done that. There was an answer from him, but you couldn't hear it very well with the way your heart was beating in your ears.

The voices were getting further away now. You tentatively peeked out from under your hood to see if it really was who you thought it was.

Even from behind, there was no mistaking Uvogin in a crowd.

He walked with a group that you recognized some of as being the other spiders that were there with him on the night of the auction attack. Others you didn't recognize, but if they were traveling together, they must have also been part of the troupe. At the head of the group was what looked like a man in a long black coat, seemingly leading the group.

Right in the direction of the Nostrade's hotel.

You swore that your heart was beating so loud they all should have heard it and then you would have been at their mercy. But they continued walking, not paying attention to anyone else around them. Realizing that you hadn't taken a breath since you had heard Uvogin's voice, you let out a soft, shuddery breath as they walked further and further away. They were still close enough for you to see clearly when Uvogin gave a playful slap on the back to the samurai in purple robes, who stumbled forward slightly and began to curse out the taller man.

When he had pushed him forward, you noticed a small piece of folded paper that slipped out of his robes.

The group turned a corner, and only when you couldn't see any of them anymore and you could no longer hear any of their voices did you move, slowly walking forward down the sidewalk, constantly checking to make sure none of them came back as you went for that slip of paper.

Your hands were trembling as you picked it up. Why you were concerning yourself with something they had dropped you didn't know. There were more important things, like getting back to the hotel before them and warning the others, but your brain was in a horribly familiar panic-mode and you weren't thinking straight.

Unfolding the paper, you found a set of pictures – headshots of the Nostrade family bodyguards. Dalzollene's picture had been crossed out, but Basho's, Squala's and everyone else was featured.

But what truly sent you into a panic were the two pictures that had been circled in pen.

One was of Neon.

The other was you.

All you could hear for a bit was your own harsh breathing, unable to focus on anything else while you looked at that bit of paper.

He was doing as he had promised. Uvogin and those others were going back to that building and they were going to kill everyone and then take you.

The remaining time you had to warn the others was slipping away and you stood petrified as you tried to figure out what you could do.

You couldn't fight them.

None of you could. The only one capable of that was Kurapika, and if Uvogin was still walking around, then he had to be dead.

You couldn't fight them.

The paper and the convenience store bags you had been holding fell to the ground as you bolted off in the opposite direction. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you until you were out of breath and aching all over. And even then you continued running. Uvogin's words, the things he did and the way he looked at you were still fresh in your mind. You couldn't face that; you knew you wouldn't win and you just needed to do whatever you could to get away from him.

Even if it meant only saving yourself.

Your kept running, sometimes bumping into people or cars, ignoring them as they yelled at you so you could keep going.

When you were thoroughly exhausted and ready to fall over, you made it to the airport, taking a few seconds to stop and catch your breath, resting your hands on your knees as you were ready to heave out your lungs. One of the airships would have to be departing soon. Buying a ticket wasn't an option; you'd need to go with a riskier route.

You jumped the fence into the airfield and were stopped almost immediately by a security guard.

“I don't know what you're thinking,” he yelled at you, “but you'd better be ready to-”

You focused your nen and a hyacinth formed, and you blew at the petals in the direction of the guard. When the petals hit him, he stopped his rant and his gaze turned blank as he stared at you.

“Let me on to the next departing airship,” you ordered.

“Yes miss.”

He moved robotically, leading you to an airship at the end of the field. Luckily nobody else approached you two. When you controlled someone with this ability, you could only give them three simple orders, and you could only use it on only a few people during a short period of time, and you didn't want to waste any of it using the guard to keep people off your back.

When you reached the airship, you told him “go ask the stewards to meet me at the entrance. And when you're done with that, I want you to go back to your station.”

“Yes miss.”

Once your last order was completed, he would be out of your control and would have no memory of you or anything that happened.

After ordering the stewards to take you to an empty cabin and to not let anyone enter during the flight, you let them go, slumping down in the window side seat after you had locked the door. The airship was taking off, and soon you'd be away from this nightmare.

The others wouldn't, though.

The reality of the situation struck you then, that you really had just run off and left them to fend for themselves. Unless some miracle happened, they were going to die. Melody didn't deserve that. Neither did Squala. Or Basho, or any of the others working for the Nostrades. Neon was a brat and she had proven that she didn't care for you or anyone else who worked for her, but that really wasn't her fault. And even if it was, it didn't mean that she should suffer for it. Not like that.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around your knees as you curled up into your seat, cursing yourself for your cowardice and for just how pathetic you were as the airship lifted you higher.

The story you read months later was that of a mystery disappearance of multiple people in the hotel owned by the Nostrades. The bodyguards and employees had all vanished, leaving behind hotel rooms filled with signs of violence, but no sort of blood or bodies in sight. The only one left was a thoroughly traumatized Neon who could barely speak and was unable to offer any explanation as to what had happened. Not even her father was able to get her to speak. Nor could he get her to use her ability, and without his daughter's fortune telling, he lost that place he had carved for himself in the mafia community and quickly fell from grace.

The articles in magazines and newspapers focused more on that aspect of the story, of the millionaire who fell from his high social standing. No one seemed to care much about the people that had vanished. Very few articles mentioned the bodyguards, and fewer still bothered to name any of them. Your name had been listed in one of those articles as one of those who were missing, but what had made you sick was reading the names of the others and knowing that they weren't missing, but that they were dead.

'This was what you chose,' you told yourself bitterly. Instead of trying to take on the troupe in an effort to save them, you ran away like a coward. Though it wasn't like anything would have changed if you had confronted them, but maybe if you had, you wouldn't need to live with the guilt of knowing that you did nothing to try and help.

You were just too weak.

The world of the hunters, that thing that you had worked towards for so long, having gone through that exam so many times and coming so close to death every time you did, was no longer something you wanted to be apart of. The dream that you had of everything being alright in your life if you could just get that license was shattered after learning about nen. Even with that treasured license, you were still so horribly insignificant in this world, and the power that you held was ultimately meaningless in the long run.

After that eye-opening experience, and after everything you had been through in Yorknew, all you wanted was to go back to a normal life.

You sold your license and made a new home for yourself on the other side of the world, far away from Yorknew and anything remotely to do with the mafia community. You lived in a humble apartment and worked a decent job while you lived life with your head facing down, staying under the radar as best you could. Just existing with yourself as best you could.

Not a day went by that you didn't think about the people you had abandoned, or the words Uvogin had said to you on the stairs. That he would find you if you ran, and that the consequences would be worse for you if you did that. Months had gone by since that day, but your anxiety didn't allow you to relax in the slightest; he had been confident in his words, and after everything you had seen, you were certain that he wouldn't give up on finding you that easily.

Time had continued, and you were coming up on almost a year since the incidents in Yorknew. Returning late to your apartment after your shift, you were struggling to keep yourself awake as you slipped the key into the front door lock. You were ready to pass out as you entered, turning as you shut the door behind yourself. Had you been a bit more alert, you might have noticed the light that was on within your apartment that shouldn't have been on, or the shadow that loomed behind you the second you turned your back to lock the door.

What you did notice were the two strong arms that wrapped around your form and pulled you against a solid chest, and the breath that tickled against your ear as a terribly familiar voice whispered to you, putting you on full alert as you realized who held you.

“Gotcha.”

And like that, your time of living in hiding came to an end.

#yandere hunter x hunter #Uvogin #hxh uvogin #uvo x reader #yandere hxh #yandere #yandere x reader #kurapika #melody hxh #dalzollene #reader insert

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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years

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Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Epilogue

<< Previous chapter “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known”

-Charles Dickens, “A Tale of Two Cities”

As we are coming to the end of the story, Leroux ties up a few more loose ends in the epilogue.

As for Raoul and Christine, their possible happy ending is only implied by what Erik told the Persian - that they had “taken a northbound train” and were planning to get married in secret. They have disappeared from the world, and Christine never appeared again on stage anywhere. According to Leroux, they might have finally settled in Norway together with Mama Valerius. At first, I thought Leroux might have been confusing Sweden and Norway, but when I did a little research on the name „Daae“, it turns out that the name is actually most prevalent in Norway, with almost no occurrences in Sweden. It is also implied that even if they took that “northbound” train before, Christine took a train back to Paris a few weeks later to return to Erik, because she had the wedding ring on her when she left, and it was finally found on Erik‘s finger.

As Philippe‘s death was deemed to be the consequence of the fight between the two brothers over Raoul’s supposed engagement to Christine, Raoul was a murder suspect - but as his previous testimony had already made him appear a lunatic in the eyes of the Commissary, Philippe‘s death was ultimately pronounced accidental. However, as Parisian society had taken less than kindly to the news of the engagement, I think that the couple would have had a very difficult standing if they had officially married and assumed the now vacant titles of the Count and Countess de Chagny. It is therefore likely that Raoul, having officially disappeared, never claimed his titles and inheritance, and chose the more simple lifestyle that Christine was accustomed to. Leroux concludes the story of Raoul and Christine with the statement that one day, he too might „hear the solitary echoes of the Northland repeat the singing of the woman who knew the Angel of Music''. In the epilogue, the boundaries between the „false“ and the „real“ Angel of Music become blurred, as Leroux repeatedly speaks of Erik as the “Angel of Music” - indicating that maybe, just maybe, Erik truly was the Angel of Music.

After following up on Raoul and Christine, Leroux relates how he obtained proof of Erik‘s existence from the Persian, mostly through the letters written by Christine that Erik had sent to him, but also through the testimonies of Meg Giry and La Sorelli. He supposedly placed all the proof he had gathered in the archives of the Paris Opera.

He also obtained the testimony of M. Poligny, the previous manager of the Opera. The „Opera Ghost“ affair was the final straw that made him resign his post, which again indicates that Erik‘s reign as „O.G.“ was rather short and caused by Erik falling in love (since he had been living in the Opera House presumably since the early 1870s). He also quotes from the fictional „Memoirs of a Manager“ by Armand Moncharmin, where Moncharmin relates that a few days after Christine‘s abduction, Erik returned all of the forty thousand francs he had extracted to the managers, no longer having any need for the money as he had given up his plan to marry Christine. The mystery of the safety-pin is also finally resolved, as Leroux was supposedly able to locate a small trapdoor in the floor of the managers’ office, through which a dexterous magician like Erik could easily have reached up and retrieved the envelope from Richard‘s coattail pocket as it was hanging down from his chair.

Leroux also notes that the marble pillar next to Box 5 sounds hollow and would offer ample space for Erik to hide inside it. According to Gérard Fontaine’s research, the pillars being hollow applies to all the pillars in the auditorium of the Palais Garnier. Whether that proves or disproves anything is up to you... Leroux’s plan of having the lake drained in order to obtain the ultimate proof of Erik‘s existence - finding the entrance to the house by the lake - did not go through, but Leroux still sustains his hope of one day finding the score of „Don Juan Triumphant“ there (that is, if Christine had not taken it with her when she came to bury him).

Leroux then gives a summary of Erik’s life according to the Persian. Erik was born near Rouen in France and ran away from his parents as a young boy, as they were afraid and horrified by how he looked. After being exhibited as a “living corpse” at fairs, he became a singing sensation and garnered a reputation that reached as far as Persia. The daroga of Mazenderan was sent to bring Erik to Persia as entertainment for the “little sultana”. Erik, who also worked there as an assassin, is described here as amoral, “not knowing the difference between right and wrong”. Even though he does not have an evil heart, his life up until this point has left him completely without a moral compass of any kind.

After building an ingenious palace for the shah, Erik’s execution was ordered so that he could not divulge its secrets to anyone. The daroga was supposed to carry it out, but as he owed Erik favours (and was the one who brough Erik to Persia in the first place), he helped him escape instead. He was punished for this and went into exile to Paris. Erik took a detour to Asia Minor and Constantinople before he ended up in Paris as well. It is also mentioned that Erik could make lifelike automata, which is reflected in the musical in the form of the monkey music box and also the “mirror bride”, a physical representation of Erik’s dream of a loving wife.

Once in Paris, Erik decided that he finally wanted to live a normal life, and placed a successful bid to work as a contractor on the Opera House. Wishing to hide his face from the world forever, he built his comfortable home into the foundations of the Opera. Erik’s plan to live out the rest of his life in peaceful tranquillity went well - until he crossed paths with Christine Daae and lost his heart to her completely. And the rest is history…

Leroux here gives his own view of Erik: “He had a heart great enough to hold the empire of the world, and in the end he had to be content with a cellar.” With a normal face, Erik, with his brilliant mind and extraordinary talents, could have had the world at his feet. And even though no one had ever loved him, he still had a heart capable of feeling deep, pure love, which is pretty remarkable. His beautiful voice is a reflection of the beauty he carries inside his soul - which was sadly eclipsed by his ugliness, which did not allow him to live “like everyone else”. The great tragedy of his life was his face, which kept others from treating him as a human being and recognizing his full potential. He is therefore clearly worthy of pity, instead of being cursed and condemned as evil.

Leroux had already mentioned in the Prologue that he believed the skeleton found in the cellars of the Opera was Erik’s. Now he finally reveals why he was so certain of that: because Erik’s skeleton wore the gold wedding ring on his finger, which Leroux believes Christine had placed there. Even though Erik had set her free and given her the ring, she later came back to him, and this time it was certainly not out of terror. With Erik dead, none of his threats would hold any more sway over her - and yet, she still returned to him to keep her promise. She not only buried him with the wedding ring, but she slipped it onto his finger, ultimately fulfilling her promise to accept him as her husband. In a sense, she buried him with her love, and that is truly a bittersweet and beautiful ending. After everything he had to endure, Erik’s life ends with a kiss and a ring on his finger, put there by the woman he loved more than his own life, and with Leroux praying for his salvation. That may not be a traditional happy ending, but it‘s very powerful. And it’s definitely not a villain’s ending.

As „Faust“ is the most strongly referenced work in „Phantom“, it is also worth comparing how the endings are different. In the final act of Gounod‘s opera, Faust and Marguerite first swear their love to each other, but when Marguerite sees Mephistopheles and realizes who Faust really is, she turns away from him and chooses death instead, while Faust is dragged into the fires of hell. Her famous last words to him are „You horrify me!“ In „Phantom“, the progression is almost the other way round - Christine is horrified at first, but then accepts Erik and chooses life instead of death.

It should also be noted that the ending in the novel is so vague that it also allows a lot of room for the reader’s imagination. Was Erik really dead when Christine returned? He himself was announcing his death, so it would not even be so very unlikely. But as this is Leroux’s story, the official reading would of course be how he himself imagined the ending: Erik dying and Christine coming back to bury him. This might be my favourite line from the novel:

“The skeleton lay near the little fountain, where the Angel of Music first held the unconscious Christine Daae in his trembling arms after taking her into the cellars of the Opera.”

As if the return of the ring was not enough poetic closure, he also asked to be buried in the very spot where he held the love of his life for the first time...

Symbolism and Metaphors

Now that we have concluded the epilogue, I would like to add a few more notes on the general themes which are present throughout the novel and still influence how we feel about it today.

To understand the extent of symbolism employed in „The Phantom of the Opera“, it is necessary to understand the cultural mindset and environment in which it was written. At the turn of the century, the arts (and sciences, as evidenced by the slowly emerging works of Sigmund Freud) were rather obsessed with the fateful connection between Eros and Thanatos - love as the life-bringing force, and death as the destructive force. Both were often seen as intertwined and mirrored in the other.

Erik is the personification of Eros and Thanatos. He unites both forces in him to a degree unparalleled by any other character in the story. The death symbolism that is also clearly reflected in how he is described, would be both perceived as horrifying - and yet not without a strangely seductive fascination inherent in it. Death is intricately tied to darker feelings of passion and desire.The “Eros” and the “Thanatos” part of his character are intertwined, but his character also oscillates between the two sides in the course of the story.

Music in „Phantom“ also serves as a metaphor for romantic love, not only in the spiritual but also in the physical sense, as it is connotated with “passion”, “fire”, “ecstasy” and “rapture” throughout the story. Erik’s teaching awakens “an ardent, voracious and sublime life” in Christine, symbolizing the burgeoning romantic feelings in the young woman. She is terrified with the changes going on in her, which is also in line with how „Eros“ was originally viewed: as a frightening loss of control. Erik says in “Apollo’s Lyre” that “some music is so formidable that it consumes everyone who approaches it”, and Christine states that “Music has the power to abolish everything in the outside world except its sounds, which go straight to the heart”. In both sentences, the word “music” can easily be replaced with “love” - especially in Christine’s example, it would be the musical equivalent of “love is blind”.

Like in other (gothic) romances - “Wuthering Heights” being perhaps the prime example - the two rivals in the principal love triangle represent two very different types of love: one is intense and passionate, but also consuming, terrifying and potentially destructive, and the other is safer, but also somewhat chaste and lifeless. Erik and Raoul each represent one of the two extremes. This contrast is exemplified in the scene at the Masked Ball: Raoul wears white, the colour of innocence, while Erik wears red, the colour of passion, but also of danger and blood.

It is suggested in the novel that Erik and Christine were chained together by fate (“La destinée m’enchaîne à toi sans retour”), and I believe they were destined to save each other. Erik saved Christine from her grief in the wake of her father’s death and brought her back to life, and Christine saved his soul by being the first person in his life to accept him and grant him true happiness. „Phantom“ may be a tragic love story, but it is also a hopeful one, as love proves stronger than death. Christine’s choice, Erik‘s sacrifice and the skeleton’s wedding ring are all symbols of love triumphing over death.

#phantom of the opera #lerouxreadingguide #leroux phantom #gaston leroux #leroux erik #christine daae #erik x christine #le fantôme de l'opéra #the phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #raoul de chagny #opera ghost #classic literature #gothic romance

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