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fic rec! 4K DP whump
Summary: Valerie's new upgrades add an electric charge to all of her attacks. Danny is not a fan.
Comments: Oooo, this fic has a lot. Danny getting hurt by electrocution in a fight with Valeria, a mildly protective Skulker. There's good whump, coupled with the angst of an electric attack reminding Danny of the portal. You also get an identity reveal! So much in this little fic. *slaps the Ao3 link*
phic phight fill with two prompts; for @echoghost1 and @fuyuthefoxwriter
(Sister fics are Snow Day, Snowdrift Sanctuary, and Frozen Out)
********
The first thing Danny noticed was the teeth.
Or. Well. The first thing Frostbite noticed were the teeth. What Danny noticed was that suddenly he was being offered bigger and bigger bones with his meal, which were very much not typical human-appropriate food.
“You break them,” Frostbite showed him, pinning the bone between two sharp canines and biting down. The bone broke clean in two. Hot-dog style. “Then you are free to eat the marrow inside.”
Danny stared. “I don’t… I don't think my teeth do that.”
“Try it,” his guardian encouraged.
…Well. He hoped Far Frozen had as good a dentistry practice as they did medicine. Danny shoved the bone between his canine teeth, and clamped down—
—And the bone broke clean through.
Huh. That was…new.
Well. Marrow tasted good, anyway, and scooping the butter-soft marrow out with a spoon was easy. Danny might have clunked the wooden spoon against his teeth a couple times (man, was he clumsy today) but he was very happy with the results.
The next day Frostbite offered him an arm-length rib bone, Danny didn’t even hesitate to chomp down.
He ate through four ribs before he felt full. He was happy.
*
The second thing Danny noticed was how pale he got.
Like. As in ‘his arm matched the snow-white fur of his tundra-proof coat’ level pale. ‘White as a glacier and just as blue’ level pale. Like. There was no red left in his skin.
He pressed his thumb to his palm. It went yellow, and then flushed back to white as his blood went back in.
…Spooky. Uh. Danny blinked loudly. Maybe he was…sick…?
There wasn’t a mirror in their cave dwelling, and nothing was shiny enough to reflect in— everything that wasn’t medical was cast iron, or not quite mirror smooth, like Frostbite’s round cooking knives.
Danny needed a mirror.
He bundled up and walked through fresh snow drifts to the closest medical facility: an ice cave across from Ledyanoy and Avalanche’s home, carved into one of several dozen pillars of ice embedded into the floating island. Danny knew that there was a mirror there, since Frostbite went in for mirror therapy every time his ice-carved arm began to itch psychosomatically.
He darted inside. Pritla was the only one in there, so they ignored him in their quest for additional data. Great. All Danny needed was the mirror set up in the corner, ready and waiting to be rolled into place for Frostbite’s next session.
Danny peeked at his reflection. He looked…wow.
For one, Danny looked spooky as hell. The blue went all around his eyes, now— no whites to be seen, creating an uneasy, inhuman look. He was pale. He was very pale. He looked like the printer had run out of any colors that might have given him some sort of standing to wander reality with.
The insides of his lips were blue. The wet inner linings around his eyes were blue.
…What.
And. Speaking of…lips…his gums were a deep, sapphire blue, as was his tongue. None of that was as important as his huge freaking fangs, though!
Like! Huge! Not yeti huge, of course, but still!! Danny had no idea how they weren’t sticking straight out of his mouth when he closed it. Big, pearly fangs.
What the heck was happening to him?
*
“I think you’re turning into a Yeti,” Tundra decided primly, and flung himself at Arctic without any further thought. The teenage Yeti— still taller than Danny by two heads and a half— squawked, barely seeing the projectile cub in time to dodge appropriately.
“No,” said Danny. It was more outright denial than certainty. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself.
Avalanche, who was the closest to adulthood out of all of them, watched the two wrestle balefully. Tundra was barely out of cub age, and Arctic wasn’t much better than Sidney Poindexter when it came to having his crap together, so it was kind of like watching two frogs mud-wrestle in knee-high snow.
“I mean,” said Avalanche, mostly bored by the spectacle of Arctic getting his butt whipped by what amounted to a kid, “I’m pretty sure it’s normal for human-born ghosts to adapt to their Obsessions after they form. You have to change a little to match your environment. And we have a lot of snow.”
“So much!” Tundra howled from where he was perched on top of Arctic. His victory lasted as long as it took for Arctic to get his legs underneath himself, push himself to standing, and launch Tundra into a snow drift with a surprised squeal.
Arctic shook himself off. His fur fluffed up with the effort, which made him look larger in size than usual. “I think that if you were turning into a yeti, Frostbite would have noticed. Or said something. Or done something.”
Avalanche shook her head, gamely ignoring how Tundra had turned from a fallen-in-the-snow position to a crouching-and-ready-to-pounce position. Danny had seen this a million times now; either Arctic would notice (he wouldn’t) and dodge, or he’d once again fall victim to Tundra’s childish enthusiasm.
Danny and Avalanche largely had no comment on Tundra’s second leap of faith, nor for their mutual struggle for pubescent dominance that ensued.
There were other questions to ask.
*
“Am I turning into a yeti?” Phantom asked.
Frostbite looked down.
The half-ghost looked nervous— picking at his lip until green beaded under his teeth, his hands in the sleeves of his coat.
“No,” Frostbite confirmed. He didn’t smile, as it would have seemed condescending in the face of Phantom’s genuine worry. It was better to keep calm. “Why are you worried about turning into a yeti?”
Phantom stared up at him, eyes deep and luminous. Frostbite had seen similar coloration on deep-sea creatures, long-travelled things desperate for any sort of light. The sight was compelling, yes, but could not substitute for a verbal answer.
“...Because I’m changing colors and now I have sharp teeth and I think I’m growing claws,” Phantom pointed out. All of these things were true. They were very good, sturdy teeth, and very good, sturdy claws, which was a good sign; anything otherwise would have indicated a lack of support on Frostbite’s end.
“It is a very normal thing to want to explore other forms of expression at your age,” Frostbite pointed out. He threaded his paws through Phantom’s pale hair, and found, to his pride, little buds of ice horns. “And I am very flattered that you think so highly of us that you are interested in mimicking some of our more obvious traits; that being said, if it distresses you, you are always free to change back.”
Phantom’s face turned…lost. “Oh.”
Frostbite continued petting. More explanation would come, or it wouldn’t— but in the meantime, the human tinge returned to his charge’s cheeks, flush with red blood, and the bud horns collapsed where they grew. His charge’s hair turned dark once more, his teeth flat and human.
Phantom’s eyes were always blue. The human color was not as deep, but was just as nice. Now, there were tears in them.
“What is wrong, little one?” Frostbite rumbled, concerned. Phantom took his paw and pressed his face to it in search of tactile comfort.
“I didn’t know why I was changing,” Phantom admitted, sniffing. His voice was wet and raw. “I was scared I couldn’t go back. Humans don’t just…change like that, 'cause we're made of matter. I was scared…”
Frostbite rumbled wordlessly. His charge had adapted very well to a non-human environment, but there were knowledge gaps that would have come naturally to any Realms-Borne being; most intuitively was knowledge of the self, as well as the rigidity (and fluidity) of one’s own manner of expression.
Changing without realization would be distressing. Frostbite still remembered what it felt like to wake up some mornings and realize that his arm was gone.
“You are alright,” Frostbite reaffirmed. “It it healthy to change, and it is a good time to find out how you will want to present yourself. That being said, there is no rush.”
Frostbite paused.
“There is one rush. If you intend to partake in eating marrow with our dinner tonight, you may want to manifest your teeth again—”
Phantom laughed, little cub’s fangs poking out between his teeth. All would be well; but first, there was dinner to be had, and a good night’s sleep to be found.
a two-prompt phic phight fill for @ghostfox-fuyu; demon!au and fangs
Notes: 1. This IS a continuation of my prev. demon!au (Visitation) 2. based on the laws of Phic Phight you CANNOT read the previous iterations, as it is nsfw and therefore cannot be linked 3. but for the already present fans…it’s a continuation from that. Also, it’s gray ghost.
*
Valerie likes her boyfriend.
He’s cute, with a button nose and blue eyes. He’s sweet. He’s kind, and he’s gentle, and if she leaves him alone he takes the toaster oven apart just to see how it works. It’s kind of like living with a small dog who takes apart pillows if you don’t give them enough attention.
Valerie loves her boyfriend.
…But the goddamn teeth.
She pushes his face away, cutting off their kiss with no warning. Danny squawks.
“Danny,” Valerie implores, again, because they are in public and not in the comfort of their own apartment, “If you cannot keep human teeth while we are making out, we are not going to make out anymore.”
Her stupid, human-shaped boyfriend pouts. Valerie should be pouting. Valerie has to avoid shredding her tongue like she’s kissing a cheese grater.
Danny, who is the cause of all this, should not be pouting as if he’s been denied the opportunity to stick his tongue in her mouth for no reason, instead of his habit of turning his extremely normal and flat human teeth into something extremely hazardous to tongues and lips everywhere.
Danny makes the world’s saddest eyes she’s ever seen. It’s very rude of him. Valerie deserves better. “But Val! I brought you lunch!”
For one, it’s six in the evening. A more apt word might be ‘dinner’. Secondly…
“I work at a burger restaurant,” Valerie points out, arms crossing over the Nasty Burger logo on her shirt for extra emphasis. “I already have dinner. I also have to be back on shift in half an hour, so if you’re not going to put your teeth away, I’m going to finally finish Don Quixote or nap trying.”
“Yeah, but you hate eating work food for lunch,” Danny points out, because he does do some very sweet things by 1) recognizing her likes and dislikes and 2) applying them liberally throughout their relationship. He holds up a weirdly large tupperware in his hands. It’s clear. It’s green.
It’s Fenton salad.
“...So my Mom packed you leftovers after I picked up stuff at the Ops Center, since she knows you like the dill vinaigrette she makes after the ectology conference every year, and she added the shredded carrot and the crumbly cheese you like since no one else in the house eats it, plus some of those little orange slices and the croutons…”
Valerie’s lips purse. Fenton salad. Her favorite.
…She takes the container from Danny’s outstretched hands, determined to ignore his smug look. Valerie prefers to be right, but higher in priority comes accepting free food from her boyfriend’s mother.
“You’re welcome,” Danny offers, smugly sweet.
“If I kiss you, will you get me with your teeth again?” Valerie asks. She’s deeply suspicious of both his motives and the timing.
“...Maybe?”
Valerie looks at him. “Change your answer.”
“...No?”
“Close enough.” Valerie draws him in, and Danny lets himself be drawn in; the kiss is sweet, and short, and tastes kind of like mandarin oranges.
He definitely had some of her salad before sharing. Whatever. It’s a good thing she likes him.
The kiss is lovely, and not very long; separating is a little harder, though, when Valerie realizes that Phantom’s tail is still wrapped around her waist.
“...Danny.”
“Mmhm?”
“I have a shift to get to.”
“Yeah,” Danny agrees, entirely ignorant to his least controlled limb holding her back.
“So,” Valerie continues, and then scratches at the fur in his tail until he flinches with recognition. “Unwrap me, please.”
“Do I…have to?”
Valerie’s look flattens. Danny makes entirely unacceptable goo-goo eyes at her.
“I have a shift in ten, and your mom’s salad to devour. Move it or lose it.”
Danny’s tail unwraps. Danny sighs, leaning in for one last peck—
Valerie feels the tips of fangs bite explicitly into her lips.
Her growl is hardly intimidated by Phantom’s rush of guilty laughter, her demon-shaped boyfriend slipping out of her fingers. Great. Now she can taste blood— the thing she was trying to avoid.
Seeing him in all of his claws and fangs and teeth and horns in daylight was always a little strange; he was never quite opaque in sunlight. He was always a touch translucent, only just shifted outside of reality.
And the stupid cow ears.
No, they're not endearing. Shut up.
It certainly didn’t help that if someone saw him turn into a demon, his whole ‘hiding his identity as a half-demon’ thing would be over! He needs to pick better spots for his random acts of infernal dramatics!
“I’m sorrrryyyy,” Phantom shouted from a healthy fifty feet away, floating in the air. It made him hard to reach, but an excellent target. “I looooovvee yoooouuu!”
No. Valerie will resist reaching into her armor for a weapon to shoot her boyfriend out of the sky with. It is rude. It is unkind. More importantly, Valerie’s not interested in having a public identity reveal behind the Nasty Burger any more than Danny is.
It’s fine. There’s other options.
“Put a shirt on!” Valerie hollers back, hands over her mouth.
Phantom’s mouth drops in the distance, little fangs glinting in the evening sunlight. His clawed hands go over his chest, looking for some perceived gap in his coverage. “I’ve got fur! I don’t need one!”
“Exhibitionist!” Valerie heckles back. “Nudist!”
Phantom squawks in offense. “Come on! I’m covered!”
“Get some pants!” Valerie shouts back, finally attracting the attention of one of her employees. At the sound of the Nasty Burger’s nasty back door creaking open, Phantom bolts off.
Good. That’s what he gets.
Temerity peeks through the back door. Her name tag is upside down, again. “Boss…?”
Valerie brushes herself off, grabs a plastic fork from where it was sitting on her ebook reader, and reclines back onto the plastic lawn chair that counts as their ‘break room’. “It was nothing, Temmie. A demon got into the dumpster again.”
“Oh.” Temerity’s countenance warms. She’d always had an interest in the local occult scene. “Did it leave anything behind?”
“Nah,” Valerie replies, popping open her tupperware. Just her lunch, apparently. “You need any help…?”
“Nope! We’ll be fine until you get back in.”
That for sure means something’s wrong. Whatever; Valerie is totally satisfied to finish off the last fifteen minutes of her shift with some literature, a bucket’s worth of satisfaction, and her boyfriend’s dismayed texts pinging in bursts onto her phone.