Writingfuzzy

What? Angst Day? Torture the child? Got it covered

I wrote again. That may or may not be a good thing. Its kinda messy. Oh well

~

“Daniel James Fenton! What on Earth were you thinking?!”

Danny cringed, pulling his phone away from his ear in an attempt to quiet his mother’s voice. His free hand curled around the seat of the bench, gripping it so hard he was sure it would break. Maddie’s voice came through the phone again.

“-ck here this instant or I swear I’ll-”

The terror that had been numbed since he left suddenly resurfaced, and he found himself struggling to keep his voice even. “M’sorry.”

His mother’s words died in her throat. Danny shifted uncertainly, adjusting his grip on the bench. “I didn’t think you would… uh…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Care?” The voice from the other end of the phone was soft and resigned, but carried no accusation. Danny swallowed thickly, shame and fear burning his eyes. “Danny…”

“Mom, I-it’s fine,” he stuttered. “I’m fine, and-”

“Daniel you are definitely not fine,” her voice came through again. 

Original prompt is thanks to solitaria-fantasma! It can be found here: Link

PART 2!

(This has two parts. I’ll be getting the second part up as soon as I write it. Man, it’s been way too long since I’ve written anything outside of school papers. The second part will most likely be better. Idk.)

yes i sure do

He tries to play it off like he’s embarrassed if his mom hugs him but really he feels like he might throw up. And he’s never quite noticed how scary she looks with her goggles on - they’re red. His dad is so much bigger than him - so much bigger - and he knows he could never really hold him off for long, if it came down to it. His bedroom door stays locked always, but the footsteps down the hall still make him shake sometimes.

He’s always been on his own a little, how much attention is a dumb kid worth compared to the paranormal? Even a bit seems like too much now. He wishes they’d kept calling him Inviso-Bill because his ears didn’t pick up the wrong name.

The panic attacks come when they touch him from behind, when they bring him down to the lab to show him something, when they read articles about ghosts in the paper and add their own choice words, words like kill and melt and destroy and rip and split and explore and experiment and hate he can’t seem to breathe anymore.

Jazz looks just like Maddie. Sam’s eyes are the same shade and shape as hers. Tucker hits a growth spurt, looms over Danny the same way Jack does.

Request for nice!Vlad. I’m not sure it’s physically possible to write nice!Vlad without creating a whole new character, but I tried?

.

Vlad slipped out of sleep knowing that someone was looming over his bed. Lying on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, he didn’t bother to lift his head. It couldn’t be a human, not with his security system, and only the stupidest ghosts wandered into his home unannounced. “If you want to continue existing, you’ll vanish,” he growled, putting some energy into the last word.

“I doubt that.”

Vlad froze. The voice was human, and yet he knew that nobody could break into his Wisconsin mansion without the help of some intangibility. He raised his head and sat up, turning to stare at the intruder, his hands balling into fists as he decided what to do with his unwanted guest. “I want to know why you’re here,” he told the man standing next to his bed. “Now.”

“Aren’t you annoyingly forward,” the man sneered. “Or should I say, ‘aren’t I annoyingly forward’.”

A bedside light clicked on and Vlad blinked into the brightness at… Vlad Masters. One that was a few years older and definitely worse for wear, with a strange pendent hung around his neck. This was either a future version of himself, or an incredibly unique burglary attempt. His fingers loosened and then knotted into his silk sheets; it would behoove him to find out how this doppelganger got into his room before destroying him. “My house, my rules,” Vlad said, glancing at the clock: two in the morning.

DannyMay Day Eight Observants /Sightseeing

…They were getting tired of this. He worked for them, not the other way around. They gave the orders and he would follow them. Not take matters into his own hands and manipulate the time stream.

If they want something done right, they’ll have to do it themselves, no matter the consequences.

It was just another normal day in Amity Park. The sun was shining, the birds were singing. Children were on their way to school and Danny Phantom was flying intangibly through your apartment window followed by a hulking beast of a ghost.

“Careful Danny, you’re cutting it a little close”

“Don’t worry Mr. Lancer I’ll make it with time to spare”

The English teacher sighs. Exits his apartment and locks the door. Danny chuckles as he loops back around and catches the ghost in the Fenton Thermos. Some people cheering and others thanking him. He waves and seeing Lancer’s car turn the block, books it to Casper High.

Floating down through the ceiling, he lands in his desk chair, between Sam and Tucker, just as the late bell rings. Lancer enters, sees Danny in his desk, and nods approvingly. The other students started a bit at his sudden appearance, still getting used to Danny Fenton being Danny Phantom. Wes grumbles to himself, still salty that nobody believed him, even though he was right.

Alright class, take your books out and turn to page sixty thr-

Lancer never finished his sentence as a Ghost Portal opened right in the middle of the class. The students scream and all scramble to one side of the room. Danny taking a defensive stance on the other side of them. He yells his signature battle cry and transforms.

Danny, preparing for the worst, charges up an ecto-blast. As Sam and Tucker assume a defensive stance in front of the class. A single clawed green hand reaches out of the portal. He never saw this coming. Three Observants come out of the portal. Danny gasps.

“Daniel James Fenton Phantom by order of the Observant Council, you are under arrest and sentenced to death”

“WHAT!? WHY!?”

The rest of the class snaps out of their fear. Everyone yelling protest at the ghosts and the bolder student throwing books at them. Lancer tries to stop them.

“ENOUGH!”

The Observants freeze everyone in place, unable to move. Danny is outraged.

“Are you kidding me!? I’ve done nothing but risk my neck to keep the balance between both our worlds! I even saved the future from myself! What could I possibly have done wrong!?”

“You still exist”

Without warning the leader of the three slashes at Danny with a sharp clawed hand. He cries out as he slams against the wall and slides down. Clutching his ectoplasm oozing side, he stands only to get cut down again. They gang up on him and there’s nothing he can do. They’re literally trying to tear him to pieces. Ectoplasm is spattering all over the wall as the Observants continue their onslaught. Danny’s screams fill the room.

He can faintly hear the horrified screams of the class. Sam’s being the loudest. Darkness is starting to invade his vision. This can’t be right. Clockwork would never let them-Clockwork! That it! In one final show of strength he releases a burst of energy that sends all three Observants across the classroom. The students gasp and fall silent.

Danny is covered in deep gashes. All oozing green and red ectoplasm. He looks like he just went through a meet grinder. Jumpsuit hanging off of him in tatters, hair covered in his own blood, sitting in a pool of green and red ectoplasm-blood mixture. Sam and Tucker realize he might actually bleed out and die before their eyes. Sam snaps out of it first. She’s hysterically screaming profanities at the Observants. Tucker joining in, followed by the rest of the students. Lancer is paler than a ghost at this point. Terrified for his not-quite-human student’s life.

Wheezing and barely able to see, Danny reaches into his pocket and takes out a pocket watch. Lancer is perplexed, it seems highly inappropriate to check the time when he might actually be on the brink of death. His heart drops to his toes at that statement. Danny presses the button on the watch. It begins to glow as the Observants regain consciousness and stand. Danny smirks.

“I have a- *cough* a f-feeling Clockwork doesn’t k-know *cough cough* what you guys a-are doing. B-but he will now.”

The Observants appear to be confused by that statement. Looking at the pocket watch in the boy’s hand, the gravity of the situation fell on them like a bucket of cold water. Clockwork was on his w-A blue portal opens up and out floats Clockwork.

“Daniel I was in the middle of a council meeting, what could you…”

Clockwork finally looks down at the the boy he has taken responsibility for, taking in his current state. The silence is deafening. Only Danny’s labored breathing can be heard. The tension is so thick you would need a chainsaw just to make a dent in it. The aura around Clockwork began to ripple agitatedly. His pale blue skin taking on a bright red hue. He reverses time on Danny’s wounds. Clockwork whips around to face the Observants. In an eerily calm voice that promises death he begins to speak.

“HOW DARE YOU…we had agreed that I would take responsibility for young Daniel. That the Council would leave the boy alone so long as I watched over him. Guided him. Mentored him. But instead you create a fake meeting to keep me away from my monitors to take action-which, if I must remind you, is in full violation of your oath-against Daniel in order to end his existence.”

Clockwork glares with the intensity of ten thousand suns. The Observants realize they have dug themselves into a hole they can’t escape from.

“In violation of your oath, breeching our agreement in regards to Daniel’s life, the attempted murder of said life, and all around incompetence, as The Master of Time I here by remove the Observants Council from power and exile you to the unworld for all eternity.”

Clockwork opens a portal to the unworld and tosses in the Observants. Back at the Council building portals to the unworld open up and swallow the remaining Observants. The class is free of their restraints however too dumbstruck to react. Clockwork turns to Danny.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m half dead”

Danny smirks. Sam and Tucker face palm and groan. Clockwork smiles, yes he’s fine. Schooling his features he speaks.

“I am sorry to have to drop this on you now but, since the Observants have been removed, the Ghost Zone is without a ruling power to keep balance. Therefore Daniel, you must assume your role as King of Ghost Zone sooner rather than later”

“Yeah I figured. Thanks Clockwork. For always being there for me.”

Lancer clears his throat. Danny completely forgetting about the rest of the class. All gaping at what just happened.

“Well, Daniel I do believe that it is only right for me to send you home to rest after such an ordeal. Manson and Foley can bring you the homework later today.

Danny says his thanks, tells everyone he’s fine and not to worry. Clockwork takes them both back to the Clock Tower.

“Hey Clockwork, I didn’t know you had the authority to remove the Council, how come you didn’t do it before?

“Technically I don’t have that authority, however I know that the current king wouldn’t mind if they were.”

“I’m Stuck”…

That was his first clear thought as he came out of his shock. After the thought had processed, his body began a panicked response to push whatever was crushing his leg. It didn’t budge.

“Maybe there’s something in my back-” His thoughts silenced in fear when realizing his backpack was not on his back. He frantically looked around for any sign of it, his I finally adjusting to the darkness. There it was…merely a few feet away. But no matter how much he tried, he could not grasp the bag. Finally, giving up on ever reaching it, he wondered if he yelled someone might hear him.

“Help! Please! I’m down here!” His cries were returned with the sound of silence. The quiet began to make him uneasy and the pain from his most-definitely-shattered leg was making him lightheaded.

Silence had always been something he had feared in his young life. Because, silence meant there was nobody around which meant he was alone. No one around meant no one to help him…no one to sing with…no one to play with, or give advice, or go on adventures with,or-

The tears stung the cuts on his, causing him to wince. He harden the expression on his to prevent from crying anymore. But the thought of being alone with no other soul in this hell pit were too overwhelming.

There was no Mom…no Dad…no Sara, no Zack, no Melissa, not even Diogee was there!

“Can somebody help me, Please!” He screamed desperately trying to make himself heard, then bursting into tears of pain and loneliness. After a moment his sobbing began to soften, clearly losing his fight with consciousness.

Set in the All Time Travelers Go to Heaven AU. What exactly did the Jinx see under the effects of fear serum? Takes place during Ch 7. 

The Jinx was led to a white, expansive room by three scientists. The head scientist gestured for him to take a seat on the floor, and he obeyed, glancing up at the ceiling. It arched high above his head, featureless and the same shade of nothingness as the rest of the room. Surrounding the area was a glass screen that extended along the wall, at which countless scientists clutched a clipboard and pen, murmuring to themselves. 

The Jinx clutched his backpack, thankful that the scientists had allowed him to keep it for this experiment. Sometimes they allowed him to keep it on his person, sometimes they didn’t. The experiments where they tossed it aside were always the worst ones, since he could usually handle himself with the tools and scraps he’d saved from his cell. 

He wished he could keep a memento of the time periods the scientists took him to for field observations. The first and only time he’d tried to take something to the future, one of the researchers caught him red-handed and upped the intensity of the physical tests as a punishment. In short, the treadmill broke and one of the handlebars struck a scientist in the head, putting him in the infirmary for a possible concussion. 

The head scientist pulled a syringe and needle from his pocket, filling it up with a sickly yellow fluid. The Jinx looked away, knowing that watching would make it worse. Another scientist held his left arm out, dabbing at his bruised skin with an alcohol swab. He felt gloved, unfeeling fingers pull his skin taut, immediately followed by a sharp prick. It took all of his strength not to cry out when the needle moved slightly underneath his skin, the liquid slowly being pushed into his bloodstream. 

Some implications, but nothing explicit. Heeheeheehee….

Balthazar was not a morning person. At all. If woken up too early, he would crankily slam his fist against his alarm clock and grumble at the birds chirping outside the window. 

He was usually fine after a cup of jasmine tea though. And Vinnie knew how Balthazar liked his tea. Not too little a taste that it was just hot water and leaves, but not too strong to overwhelm the taste buds either. Boiled for five minutes exactly. 

Vinnie was about to throw off the covers when an arm was flung across his chest, barring his way. He tried to move it off, but Balthazar only made a pathetic sounding noise and buried his face deeper into Vinnie’s side. 

“Balthy, I’m gonna make your tea now, okay?” Vinnie pleaded, but Balthazar still wouldn’t budge. He only tightened his hold. “You can stay in bed for another ten minutes.”

The only response was a contented sigh. It was a losing battle. There was no way he could beat Balthazar in bed. Unless….

No. Nilch. Enough, Vinnie blushed. Definitely not going there. Besides, it was against regulations. 

Vinnie wrapped an arm around Balthazar’s shoulder, resting his cheek against the soft fabric of his nightcap. 

If being half-asleep caused Balthazar to express more emotions than just anger and irritation, then Vinnie wanted to use the opportunity to cuddle for as long as possible. 

Martin Murphy and his family were on the run. After Milo’s birth, Murphy’s Law had increased to accommodate the fact that a new boy had been born with the Extreme Hereditary Murphy’s Law.

There had been unrest in the neighborhood following the significant increase in Murphy’s Law, but it hadn’t seemed serious…

Until it suddenly was.

They had to flee into the night, as unmarked black vans made to surround their house. Fortunately there’s an aspect to Murphy’s Law that it’s a force that will make sure it’s passed down to the next generation.

That, and Martin purposefully rigged the main waterline under the street to explode to help cover their escape.

Martin and his family had at first made their escape in the family RV, but they knew they would have to part with it if they didn’t want to be spotted.

They ditched the RV in a ditch by a ravine several miles outside of the city, and they started to make their way on foot the best they could.

Martin grit his teeth, he would have to steal a car. He didn’t much like the idea, but it was the best he could think to do.

He would spend the next few weeks wondering over what happened next.

He would remember the chaos, all the car alarms in the parking garage going off in near unison. The sprinklers inexplicably turned on, and Martin yelled for Brigitte to take the kids and run.

The suits that had been following them, found them and rounded them back up…minus one family member. Milo.

Martin didn’t dare risk asking Brigitte what had happened, even though he desperately wanted to know, it was best to not draw attention to the fact that they had missed capturing a Murphy.

Murphy’s Law wouldn’t let Milo get killed, or at least—Martin hoped against hope that he was right about that.

In all the chaos, the agents didn’t even realize that they didn’t have Milo.

Martin only prayed that he would be found by someone that could care for him.

-line break-

It was bad enough that they had been stranded in this time period, but their current plan was to go with the cover of ‘Pistachio Cart Vendors’.

Dakota had been quick to point out that was their most plausible employment now that they had fallen out of contact with the Bureau of Time Travel, but that didn’t mean Cavendish had to like it.

Cavendish had stationed himself nearby a busy mall with a large parking structure, only to have to move the cart when a sudden cacophony of car alarms nearly deafened him.

Cavendish walked around the front of the cart to free the wheels from the breaks. He saw something move out of the corner of his eyes and get near the cart.

A harried woman, who was stashing something in a side panel of the cart.

“What do you think you're—”

“Please,” the woman shot him a desperate look, “Look after Milo—please.”

The woman turned and fled back towards the parking structure. Cavendish peered into the cart’s side-storage, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

A crying baby boy, wearing a burgundy onesie with purple stripes, looked up to him and started to squirm. There was a full diaper bag left along side him, obviously hastily packed.

The baby’s wide pleading eyes, coupled with the fact that Cavendish had a sudden uneasy feeling about the shouts coming from the parking structure… Cavendish knew, he had to get far away.

Cavendish took the cart and hurried away, the securing the baby’s safety the only thing on his mind.

-line break-

Dakota had been holding down the fort at the 'H+G’ Water Treatment Co. hideout. Spending most of the day trying raise a signal on their main communicator.

None of the communicators that were sprinkled around town had worked. Not the one in the photo booth, not the one in the basement of the deli on 4th street (great sandwiches as always though, so their visit wasn’t a total loss), and definitely not their portable communicator.

They also hadn’t been able to locate Brick and Savannah, so that was worrying.

No amount of fiddling got him any signal. None, nada— the communicator was just flat out receiving nothing. The communicators had all turned on, but they hadn’t even detected a signal from the future.

Cavendish and Dakota were officially Stranded Time Travelers.

Dakota heard a knock at the door, three knocks at the middle of the door, and one knock at the top.

Cavendish and Dakota had long worked out a sort of special 'secret knock’, unique to their partnership.

Cavendish would give three knocks at the middle at the door, one at the very top. Dakota, being shorter, would knock three times at the middle before tapping out the familiar 'shave and a haircut’ near the bottom of the door.

“Vinnie,” Cavendish’s unique British voice called out from behind the door, “be a dear and open the door…my arms are a bit full I’m afraid.”

“Oooh,” Dakota said, interest peaked, “Did you pick up some food or—” Dakota paused as he opened the door, his eyebrows shooting up above his glasses.

“Uh.” Dakota said, absolutely dumbfounded at the sight of his partner carrying a strange baby, “I’m hoping you have a good explanation for this?”

As he was regaling his tale to Dakota, Dakota took the baby, who was apparently named Milo, in his arms to change his diaper.

“So…Milo’s mom told you to look after him?” Dakota wondered aloud as he swaddled the still upset baby in the hopes of calming him down, “I wonder what could have happened that she’d be willing to leave her baby with a stranger?”

Cavendish sighed, “I wish I knew- it seemed she was in some trouble…like someone was pursuing her?” Cavendish speculated aloud, “You should have heard the chaos at that parking garage- whatever was happening wasn’t anything good.”

“Well, it’s good you were there to get the kid away from there.” Dakota acknowledged as he set about preparing a bottle for, a much calmer, baby boy.

“How’d you get so good with kids?” Cavendish marveled as Dakota handed him Milo while he heated up the baby formula, “Not that I’m complaining mind you.”

Dakota shrugged, “I got a lot of cousins- you’ve seen my family photos, the Drowssap family reunion basically was a child wrangling practice course.”

“Speaking of family,” Cavendish said as he cradled Milo close to his chest, “Should we report the child to the authorities?”

Dakota shook his head, “No I agree with your gut on this one, there was something after that lady. We don’t know who we can trust with the kids’ safety; not to mention that we’d be interrogated as to just who we are…”

“Point taken,” Cavendish coincides, “don’t want to risk blowing our cover.”

Dakota scooped Milo back up and offered him the bottle. The little child took to the bottle very eagerly, obviously very hungry.

“Besides,” Dakota chuckled at Milo’s adorable happy noises, “between the two of us, we can care for a baby.”

“Yes, the two of us can handle anything thrown our way.” Cavendish smiled as he observed Milo give out a contented sigh, “How hard can caring for one child be?”

What had been happening with Milo’s family the last month?

Martin Murphy and family hadn’t been idle in their captivity. Martin especially had been lying in wait for the security put upon them to lapse for long enough to make good their escape.

Brigitte had only dared to hint at who she had entrusted Milo’s safety to, careful not to reveal too many details— just in case their captors were listening in.

Martin was glad that after a week of searching he had overheard from their captors that there hadn’t even been the slightest indication of Milo’s whereabouts.

Whoever was taking care of Milo seemed to be able to manage Murphy’s Law well enough that even people who were looking for instances of Murphy’s Law couldn’t find them.

Then they were made to do that press conference. Martin hoped that if whoever had Milo saw it, they would be able to tell from his stress on the word -safe- that they were to continue to keep Milo hidden, and under no circumstances should they turn him over to the authorities.