#poll fic

[lilacxquartz]

in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 3) poll winner: confront him over the attempted break-in

tw: yandere choso; his behaviour in this can be seen as problematic and hounding, he has issues with respecting our unspoken boundaries and he acts creepy during this chapter.

< previous part • start from the beginning

You stared at the space up ahead of you, the unmistakable sound of someone heavily breathing still echoing in your head. The earlier suspicion of Choso possibly being behind the unit gave you pause, because you did not wish for that to be the case, since if he was, then one of the two things had to be true:

That either he had been snooping around and was the one responsible for the mess you had come back home to, or he had seen exactly what happened, which meant he knew something you didn’t.

For whatever reason, however, neither explanation seemed to sit right with you. Somehow, you could not trust him to be the good guy in this situation when you had already felt so much wrong with him before.

You drew in a steadying breath, considering your options. Calling the police might be useless, because if whoever was still lurking around the corner was the aggressor, then you risked provocation. Then again, taking matters into your own hands felt just as bleak. You risked the person around the corner being volatile, but even so, perhaps from the adrenaline, your curiosity won out once more. It was better to confront what was just steps away from you than to wait for the problem to go away—knowing that it likely would not.

Slowly, you rounded the corner with your key held tight in between your knuckles—just in case—as you shakily popped your head around. Before you, there was nobody, but when you flicked your eyes down, your gaze settled over two white-knuckled hands curling over the ledge.

“Ch-Choso…?” you called out, your voice uncertain. It was a gamble.

You heard a breath of relief follow. “Oh, thank goodness, it’s you. Can you help me up?”

You scrambled for a moment before the words caught up to you. Adrenaline was definitely making you act erratically. You wanted to leave him dangling as you called the police, but the way he sounded thankful just then gave you pause.

“Of course,” you said. “I can try. I-I mean, I will try.”

You reached for him carefully, lowering yourself to your knees. Your hands found his own as they were straining against the rooftop, connecting, inviting him to hold desperately against you. His touch was warm, almost alarmingly so, forcing a deep breath of air to gulp down your throat. Despite the unease you felt, however, you threw your weight into the effort, even if it was obvious that your help did very little, and that it was he who put in the bulk of the work in getting himself back on solid ground.

“Are you okay?” you asked, taking a step back as soon as you were able to, unsure as to why you were still being so polite.

Choso collapsed onto his hands and knees, his palms biting into the rough surface of the roof. He forced himself to his feet a moment later, lowering his gaze towards you. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “Better, now that you’re here.”

In a way, that response should have sounded reassuring because he was associating you as a friendly face when he needed help, but the feeling you had before still ate away at you. You took an uncertain step back once more, if anything, just to create a safe amount of distance between you both.

“I should probably call the police,” you suggested.

Choso took a step forward, eating up the space you tried to enforce. “No, that’s okay.”

His hand then extended towards you, perhaps as a gesture of reassurance, but you stumbled back a step before he could even reach you. Just as you nearly tripped over your own two feet, his eyes narrowed for a brief moment before he forced a neutral expression.

“Is something wrong?” he asked you.

You swallowed at the question, and for a moment, you couldn’t say much at all. Maybe it was Shoko’s voice replaying in your head, putting labels on things that you did not want to acknowledge. The part where he was acting like a stalker was something that crossed your mind maybe a dozen times since you had that one initial interaction with him. The way he treated you when you were drunk, the way your phone blew up when you didn’t come home, and now… this. It all felt so intentional and targeted.

“No reason,” you replied, turning the key over and over in your hand.

You considered your next step. Running towards your apartment was no longer something so viable, because he could definitely intercept you. If you made it inside, then he could easily get inside without much effort, especially with the broken lock. The thought made your breath come out as unsteady and shallow.

Choso watched you for that moment, registering the panic you had barely kept contained, and then, just in that same maddeningly soft way he approached you from the first night, he turned gentle rather than imposing. He took your trembling hands into his and led you back to your unit, guiding you with every step. The act made your stomach pool with dread, because even now, he was making the decision for you.

What was worse was when he sat you down on your bed once more, kneeling over by the busted lock, fixing it without saying a word.

You could only stare at him, trying and failing to piece together what was happening.

When he approached you, though, you straightened up, and he, too, stopped just short of when you tried to create distance again. He looked slightly offended at your apprehension, but then he covered his feelings with a warm smile.

“Ah, right,” he said softly. “I know that this probably doesn’t make look very good,” he added, softening his appearance to make him look harmless. “What happened was… I was trying to chase after someone who I saw messing with your door, but they were more athletic than me, and got away. While I… got myself into a potentially bad situation, nearly falling. It’s a bit embarrassing.”

You gulped thickly. “You tried to… chase after… them?”

Choso nodded, relieved to hear that his lie landed. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, his voice low. “I’m very glad you turned up, actually. If I had taken that fall, I might have broken my arm or something.”

You nodded along, wanting so hard to believe him, but whatever doubt you had leftover kept on clawing at the back of your mind, forcing a question to slip out of you before you could stop it.

“Are you sure that it wasn’t you who did all of this in the first place?” you blurted out, letting the question hang in the air before coughing out a choked gasp of realisation. Your hand clapped over your mouth to silence yourself further, but it was already far too late.

Something changed in his expression, then, revealing a crack in the careful mask he had been wearing. He let out a short breath that might have been a laugh, but it was closer to a light scoff. The way he was behaving did very little to comfort you, and what was worse, he did not make an immediate effort to deny you. Instead, his gaze only seemed to deepen, fixing you with a look of intense yearning. God, how he wanted you to be close to him—especially right now, when the opportunity was right in front of him—but he forced himself to behave for now, and even then, only somewhat.

“Well, if I did do all of that,” he started, his voice shifting into something conversational. “Then what are you going to do about it?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but only hot air came out at first.

Then, finally, a choked sound left a second after. “C-call the police?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. You could, but do you think I would let you?” he replied. “I could stop you very easily.”

A dry swallow went down your throat, your eyes darting around the room as you searched for a weapon. Just the keys alone would be enough.

Choso, too, caught onto your observation, mentally logging it that you wouldn’t go down without a fight, forcing himself to mellow before he risked scaring you further. He wanted to keep you where he could see you for a bit longer, if he could help it.

“But that’s okay,” he added after, his tone changing from charged to something almost kind, “because that wasn’t me. I know how it looks and sounds,” he went on, forcing a light laugh, “but it wasn’t. Why would I break my own windows?”

Your breath caught as you momentarily remembered the sight downstairs.

“Oh, right…” you mumbled. “I guess that would be silly of you to do…”

“Yeah, it would be,” he replied, lowering himself right beside you, looking up over where you sat.

You drew yourself back as he spoke, pressing yourself harder against the wall. Even now, you could not shake off the look he had on his face a second ago when the mask slipped. Your hands held on tight around the key, the metal biting into your skin, enough to leave intended bruises from the mounting fear that you felt, but not enough to break your skin just yet.

You thought of something else: if you were to make a break for it with all that you had, then Shoko’s place was an easier route for you to follow than to even think about where the police station was. It was a silly thought, considering how dire this situation potentially was, but you couldn’t think clearly. Hell, even the campus library could have been a viable option, considering that you needed a card to blip yourself into the building at all. The security on-site would probably keep him out, too.

“I’m sorry for accusing you,” you said carefully, keeping your tone as steady as you could, inching towards the edge of your bed as you prepared to push yourself up. “I guess I just feel a bit… claustrophobic. I think I need some air—some space to think—so I’m just going to go and—”

The moment that you tried to leave, however, Choso tensed up, even if his panic was kept under wraps. As soon as you moved, his hand shot out and closed over your wrist, pulling you back with a force that made your breath catch. He stopped himself only after, but by then, he was already so close that his mouth brushed over your ear, his breath warm, his intention to keep you where you were clear.

“You’re going to leave?” he asked, his voice faintly laced with warning.

You swallowed hard, keeping your hand clenched around the key. “Just to get some fresh air,” you repeated, keeping the part where you would bolt as soon as you could a secret.

For a moment, he seemed unable to let go. His grip stayed tight around your wrist, unintentionally hurting you from the pressure. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he murmured, drawing you closer until you could feel the heat of him. “What if the person who wanted to hurt you is still out there, waiting?”

Your heart jumped at the proximity, and it was then that you were almost certain he was the danger he had been referencing. Everything in your gut told you to put distance between you both and fast—just one sharp movement—one punch of the keys in your hands against his ribs. Maybe you could elbow him. Maybe you could kick him where it hurts, because he was definitely crossing a line right now. Your hand twitched around the keys as you stood frozen, caught between fear and the need to get away.

How does this go?:

You manage to tear out of his grip and make it outside at least.

Choso doesn’t let you leave, forcing you to stay, listen, and hear him out.

Voting ended onMay 29

​

[lilacxquartz]

in which your impassive neighbour gains an interest in you that feels invasive (yandere choso x f!reader)

part one • two

poll winner: you texted him back — next poll is at the end of the fic

note: this is a yandere piece that contains stalking elements and topics that might cause discomfort, if a future or past piece has a warning, please take extra care before clicking on it!

As the seconds ticked by, the focus on your phone deepened, and your grip on it gradually tightened to the point where your knuckles went white. Despite Shoko's warning to absolutely not get involved with this man—your curiosity won out—leading you to swipe back to the messages screen.

Maybe if you just got to the bottom of it all sooner rather than never, you could resolve whatever odd idea you must have put into his head?

Not that you ever once provoked him or led him on in the first place.

Almost reluctantly, you slid your fingers across the screen, typing out one reply after the other that you ultimately ended up discarding rather than sending. It felt awkward, in a way, because how on earth were you supposed to approach him at all, even through the safe medium of texting? A part of you had even regretted considering politeness—remembering Shoko's little bit where she described his actions as stalkerish—so why should you display manners at all? You supposed the immediate answer to that question was because you did not wish for it to escalate.

Then again, you never know with people. Choso—your downstairs neighbour—looked gentle, tired and presented himself as soft-spoken, yes, but he also violated your personal space to an extreme that made you feel uneasy. Choso texting you last night was simply the icing on the cake, because all it did was lead to another troubling thought: had he waited for you to come home in order to notice your absence? A shudder escaped you, and your shoulders closed in on themselves to block out the idea.

Determined to get to the root of this, you ended up settling on something that led you both to the point.

"hi thank you for the concern ln but how did you get my number?"

You briefly considered immediately texting the request of a follow-up, a nudge of a demand asking who it was so that you could give them a piece of your mind (or more likely, send Shoko after them), but the thought slipped as soon as you spotted the "read" receipt the very next second and a response already in the works:

"Hi, good to hear from you. I obtained the number from our landlady early on to use in case of emergencies. When you didn't come home last night, after seeing you drunk the other night, I feared something had happened and sent out a friendly text."

You stared at the screen as the typing animation played on his side, seemingly not done with what he wanted to disclose.

"I don't text much, though. I suppose I came across as overbearing in my concern. Sorry if that was the case."

You blew your cheeks out at that answer, coming to focus on the pavement up ahead for a moment just to steady yourself. A lot was going on in his two answers. He was polite with you, aware of the boundaries that he crossed, and yet, somehow, he still managed to pass that violation off as care.

A part of you wished to confront him further, but another side knew to tread carefully before moving forward, considering that you still lived in close proximity to him. Perhaps, in that case, a light hint to back off would work, even if you weren't too sure of the outcome.

"i see but pls refrain from contacting me in the future unless it's an actual emergency."

Hoping this would wrap things up, you considered pocketing your phone right then and there, but your eye kept catching on the seemingly lengthy reply he conjured up, only for it to fall flat on just one word when he had finally sent it:

"Alright."

In a way, this all annoyed you even further than it should have, but for the time being, all you could do was let out a deep breath, sigh, and hope that you were both distant, yet clear enough that whatever interest he might have seen was not real. You were both adults, after all. Maybe his single-worded response could have been born from a realisation that he had overstepped. Hopefully.

~~~

Choso, otherwise, had been working on rearranging his shop to look more inviting and nice, especially since a more sterile, franchise-y storefront had opened up in a more convenient location nearby. It was truly idle work, what he was doing, and his mind was otherwise occupied with the mundane thought of what would be more appealing for the average shopper.

Then, his focus shifted from the second that he heard his phone vibrate, his mind immediately settling on you once more. Technically speaking, it was no big deal when he hadn't heard from you last night; it was late, and you were likely just asleep, so that alone was fine. The greater issue stemmed from his overthinking of where exactly did you fall asleep, and worse yet, with whom? The idea of you being potentially romantically involved—or even just temporarily as a one-night stand—made him feel almost violently unwell.

As he went over to check on his phone, Choso dreaded to read your response in a way. He already had an issue with being overbearing to his siblings, which he had to promise, when he did finally move out of his family home, that he would give them all room to breathe. His concern for you from last night was not intended initially to be as overwhelming as it had come across. For that alone, he already felt apologetic. Then, he read your response and felt the accusation in your words, asking just who exactly he sourced the number from, and he already felt regretful of abusing the information handed to him.

He let out a shaky breath, slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he forced himself to reply with the truth. Perhaps if he were transparent with it, then you wouldn't be so suspicious, or worse yet, angry.

When you replied a short while after, requesting him to no longer contact you again unless it were a true emergency, all hell broke loose for him. He ground his teeth, his jaw tightening as he processed your words, having to put in extra effort to force himself to remain calm as he typed out again and again that he was merely acting out of concern. However, each reply he pushed out for the potential of countering your plea had ended up sounding a little too defensive, so ultimately, he settled on the simple message of an "alright", hoping that it would calm you down a little.

Then, upon no further follow-up, Choso exhaled a steadier breath that time. If the only way to text you was otherwise rooted in the context of an emergency, then perhaps, otherwise, he could fabricate one. He could break into your home—carefully—using the alibi of work taking up his daytime hours, but claim to notice something off when coming back, because maybe his apartment door seemed loose somehow. The issue, however, that lay with that entire plan, was whether or not you would believe him after his few already questionable interactions with you.

Therefore, he had to make his attempt to showcase a potentially dangerous situation apply to him just as much as it would apply to you. Not enough to freak you out and call the police to expose him, but perhaps to sway you away from being a creep, as you likely saw him, and just someone who is well-meaning, just bad at communication. He would fix up your door (that he planned to damage), finally mention his siblings and how much of an overthinker he is, and you could let go of all of your concerns about him once you realised that there's nothing to be scared of.

Carefully, indeed, he decided with his heart racing, that he would creep on over from a decisive break from work, tiptoe right upstairs to your unit and then just… act on his plan. He held his breath the whole time, terrified of you being home or coming back earlier, as he kicked around the doormat, overturned a few pots, and brute-forced the door handle enough times to make it fall loose, the hinges waning under the repeated pressure. Just moments before, he did more or less the same thing to his own unit, hoping to sell the picture.

But just as he stepped away, he heard someone approach the stairs, and his heart jumped.

You couldn't have been back this early.

Could you?

~~~

As you approached the street you lived on, you pulled out your phone again, a hint of a frown appearing when there was no follow-up from him. In a way, this left you feeling even more unsteady. It was almost easier to read him and his intentions when he was trying to contact you, but if he had been reduced to being quiet, then you, too, were left in the dark.

Just as you were about to round in on your apartment, your pursuit faltered by just a step, forcing you to slow down and take in the scene around you. A shattered terracotta plant pot at his door, dirt on the door handle and a trail of soil leading up the side stairs. When you reached your unit, a similar scene awaited you: overturned flowerpots and a broken door handle leading into your home.

Without thinking much, your mind almost immediately went on to blame him, because the events made sense in how he was behaving. Maybe rejection motivated him? But then again, why would he do the same to his own apartment? Was it a randomly targeted break-in, then? You gulped at the thought, your fingers already itching to pull out your phone and drop in a word to the police, asking them if they could investigate, but then you heard something not too far away.

A stifled sneeze, maybe? It sounded too close to be on the next building over. Maybe behind your unit—like right behind—where there was only a narrow ledge that led to a straight drop down into an alley. You could hear faint shuffling and the sound of someone trying to be really quiet.

Realistically, you knew that you had no chance in case it was a real danger lurking around the corner, so leaving it alone was the safest choice.

Then again, you could not fully erase a sneaking suspicion that already took root in your mind.

The idea was almost silly.

It couldn't have been him, could it?

What’s your next step?

Leave in a hurry and call the police

Take matters into your own hands and see who’s hiding around the corner

Voting ended onMay 19

Next part >

[nowimjustastranger]

Pick a Prompt!

Hide + "I almost lost you"

Coat + "I don't want to hear your excuses"

Voting ended onJan 4

[nowimjustastranger]

Which AU Should I Write For?

Somebody to Call My Own

Infinity Falls

Even a Falling Star Still Shines

A Gilded Cage

Voting ended onJan 3

The final poll will be two pairs consisting of a word and dialogue prompt that I have randomly chosen, which will be the building-blocks of the fic that I write.

[nowimjustastranger]

The results are in, folks! I'll be starting the year off with a Poll Fic! Now, these won't be monthly since they will be 4 to 6k in length and that is a lot of writing. So, when I do a Poll Fic, I'll only have 1 Kofi Fic for that month to make sure I'm not putting too much on my plate and burn out.

There will be three polls total within the span of three days, so keep a lookout so you can vote!

February Poll Fic

One of My Main GF AU's

One of MY StCMO Mini-Series

Voting ended onJan 2

[five-rivers]

Polychrome Pronoia 4

This is the third entry of the first of my two experimental audience participation fics. Participation instructions are below the fic segment.

The winning prompt for the previous poll was: The anomalies affect people differently depending on their relationship to Danny ( @mojomcm )

Warning tags: none so far!

Masterpost.

.

“Could I?” asked Danny.  He groaned and rubbed his face.  “Look, can you at least tell me that no one’s ever gotten hurt by one of these here?”

“Uh,” said Tucker.  

“Is that a no?” demanded Danny.  

“No, that’s an ‘I’m thinking.’  Give me a second here, dude.  Dash can’t manage to make them work properly.  He always gets lost and winds up halfway across town.”

“Dash knows about these?” asked Danny.  “How did he know about them before me?”

“You can fly,” said Tucker.  

“Only sometimes!  What else?” 

“Well, on the message boards, Wes is always talking about new ones he’s found, but no one else can ever find them.”

“Sounds like they have your sense of humor, Danny,” said Sam.  

He turned to Sam.  “Do you know about anyone getting hurt in one of these?  And - message boards?”

“You can find anything on the internet,” said Tucker, serenely.  

“Hm,” said Sam.  “Not directly.  Star said something once, when we were getting ready for gym, I think, about someone chasing her and the shortcut somehow ran him into a building.  But they could have just been talking about a regular shortcut.”

“Someone chasing her?”

“I know,” said Sam, making a face.  “But nothing happened, I don’t think, and that’s all I heard.  I was eavesdropping.”

Danny grumbled under his breath, unhappy about anyone chasing one of his classmates, especially to the point where they ran into a weird spatial anomaly shortcut thing of unknown provenance.  

“I want to see these message boards where people are talking about spatial anomalies,” said Danny.

“Sure,” said Tucker, easily.  “Just don’t believe anything Wes says about them.”

Danny hummed, uncertain.  Something about that bothered him, but he could look into it later.  

“So,” said Sam, crossing her arms.  “Are we going to keep hanging around here, or are we going to go back?  There’s not really anything for us to do here, is there?”

“Um,” said Danny, “no, I guess not.  Tucker?”

“I’m good,” said Tucker, shrugging.  “We are supposed to be having a sleepover, right?”  He headed for the alleyway.  

“Yeah.”  With some reluctance, Danny turned back towards the ‘shortcut’ as well.  Then, he frowned.  “Didn’t it turn the other way before?” he asked.  

“Maybe,” said Tucker, over his shoulder.  “They can be weird like that.”

Danny sighed, but followed.  “Is this also common knowledge?”

“On the message boards, yeah.”

“How many people are even on these message boards?”

“No idea,” said Tucker.  “Most people at school are on them, which is why we thought you already knew.”

Danny cast an entreating look at Sam.  

“No, he’s right,” she said.  “Come on, Danny, Paulina knows about it.”

“She’s not stupid, Sam.”

“No, but she is shallow.  And what about Dash?”

That was a good point.

The shortcut didn’t affect Danny the way it had before, and they arrived at Fentonworks without further incident.  Which meant that Tucker was probably right about these shortcuts being safe.  

Probably.  

Danny would have to make sure.  

.

Thank you for reading this far! If you would like to participate, please reply to this post with what you want to happen or want to see in the fic next. This can be an event (e.g. the lab suddenly explodes), a character appearing (e.g. Wes, Sam, Undergrowth), a headcanon being added to the story (e.g. ghost hunger), a POV switch (e.g. switch to Jazz), a setting element (e.g. the year is 2104), a ship (e.g. Everlasting Trio), or something else I've forgotten to list here. You can even just say to continue the scene as is!

To be used in the poll, your suggestions must:

Fit in a poll option (80 characters or less)

Not include crossover elements

Not include minor/adult ships

Be compatible with already established story elements

Other feedback is also welcome! Feel free to send me an ask!

[five-rivers]

Polychrome Pronoia 3

This is the third entry of the first of my two experimental audience participation fics. Participation instructions are below the fic segment.

The winning prompt for the previous poll was: Baby space ancient Danny (AO3: Coolcat101s)

Warning tags: none so far!

Masterpost.

.

Danny took a deep breath.  “Okay, well, you guys stay here, I’m going to check it out.”  He flew forward… and heard footsteps.  

He rolled over in the air to glare at his friends.  

“I came through here to get to your house,” said Tucker.  

“Did you really expect us not to follow you when every time we leave you alone for one of these things you wind up half dead?”

“That was only once.”

“The other times are figurative,” said Sam.  

“Half dead in the original sense,” agreed Tucker.  “You get the crap beaten out of you a lot.”

The worst thing was, Danny couldn’t disagree.  He tilted his head back and groaned.  “Have you ever considered that I don’t want you guys to turn up half dead?”

“Sure,” said Tucker.  “But like I said, I come through this way all the time.  A lot of people use these shortcuts.”

With a heroic effort, Danny repressed his first response, which was ‘Well, I guess a lot of people are dumb.’  He didn't actually think Tucker was dumb, after all, and he hated fighting with his friends.  

Instead, he sighed.  “Yeah, well, be ready to get out if something does go wrong.”

He started flying forward again.  As he moved further down the alley, he started to feel something… strange.  Like there was too much space here, squeezed into… not too small a space, exactly.  It was like this space and another space had both been stretched out to touch, then layered and allowed to contract again.  It was too… thick.  Here was two heres.  Or more.  And they were starting to grow together.  

Then there was everything else.  

If space here was thicker, it was also higher, and the perspective let him see further.  See out to dozens of other places that were strange, twisted or layered or turned.  He could–

He blinked back, the things he had sensed already running out of his brain, vanishing into the ether.  Something– there had been something–

“Danny?  You okay?” asked Tucker.  

“Huh?  What?  Yeah,” said Danny, distracted.  He looked around.  The buildings that framed the alley looked normal enough when he was looking at them straight on.  However, from the corners of his eyes, they sparkled, and he couldn't tell if they were the same each time he looked at them.  

“You kind of zoned out a bit,” said Tucker.  

“Huh,” said Danny.  “Okay.  How long is this usually?”

“Not much,” said Tucker.  “The end is just around that corner.”

Danny nodded and flew forward, and the next thing he knew, he was on Tucker's street.  

“That is convenient,” said Danny.  “How many of these things are there?”

Tucker shrugged.  “I don't think anyone knows.  Like I said, I've been researching.”

Danny licked his lips.  “We've got to check them.  As many as we can.  Map them out, make sure they're safe.”  A thought occurred to him, and he grimaced.  “Do you think I should tell my parents?”

Sam and Tucker looked at him askance.  

“Why would you do that?” asked Sam, disbelievingly.  

Danny shrugged.  “They'd have a better idea of whether or not these things are safe.”

“You think your parents will have a better idea of what's safe?” asked Sam, openly skeptical.  “The ones who put ectoplasm samples in the fridge?”

“That's basically the least unsafe thing they do, too,” said Tucker.  

“It isn't,” said Danny.  

“Everything in your basement is like five minutes from exploding at any given time.”

“No, it isn’t,” repeated Danny, desperately.  “At least they could figure out the science.”

“So could you,” said Sam.  

.

Thank you for reading this far! If you would like to participate, please reply to this post with what you want to happen or want to see in the fic next. This can be an event (e.g. the lab suddenly explodes), a character appearing (e.g. Wes, Sam, Undergrowth), a headcanon being added to the story (e.g. ghost hunger), a POV switch (e.g. switch to Jazz), a setting element (e.g. the year is 2104), a ship (e.g. Everlasting Trio), or something else I've forgotten to list here. You can even just say to continue the scene as is!

To be used in the poll, your suggestions must:

Fit in a poll option (80 characters or less)

Not include crossover elements

Not include minor/adult ships

Be compatible with already established story elements

Other feedback is also welcome! Feel free to send me an ask!

[five-rivers]

Monochrome Maniacal part 4

This is the fourth entry of the first of my two experimental audience participation fics. Participation instructions are below the fic segment.

The winning prompt for the previous poll was: When Danny is threatened or sleeping phantom's tail tends to wrap around him like a snake (AO3: Silverheartlugia2000)

Tags for this section: Pitch Pearl (Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom), some vaguely possessive behavior.

Masterpost.

.

“I’d protect Amity Park,” answered Phantom.  “That’s what I want to do, anyway.  What we’ve wanted to do - I’d be able to do it all the time, without worrying about school, or about who’ll see.  And you’d be safe, too.”  This time, Phantom reached towards Danny, taking his hands.  “Don’t you see?  We both get what we really want.”

Phantom’s gaze was sincere, but also manic, overly bright, overly intense.  Danny wanted to quail, to look away, but, instead, he felt like he was falling into Phantom’s eyes, like he was drowning in a deep and glowing pit of ectoplasm.  

It took a few moments for Danny to swallow and find his voice.  “Is it?  What you want?”  

It didn’t seem quite right to him, the idea of just having one life or the other.  He wasn’t sure that was what he wanted.  It hadn’t been what he wanted when he went through the Ghost Catcher.  He’d been frustrated about his double life, but he’d chosen that life.  Sort of.  He’d just wanted to talk.  

Hadn’t he?

Phantom smiled crookedly.  “Don’t you know?”

Danny closed his eyes and felt Phantom shift next to him, hugging him.  The tip of Phantom’s ghostly tail wrapped around his ankles.

“Don’t we owe it to ourselves - to everyone - to try?”

Danny pressed his head against Phantom’s chest.  He could hear something in there.  Not a heartbeat, but a sort of rhythmic thrum, like a turbine.  

He didn’t think staying separated was what he wanted.  He– He liked being a hero, no matter the downsides.  But… a break from it wouldn’t be so bad.  Maybe Phantom needed a break from school, from his - their - parents.  He could understand that, even if he couldn’t get his head around Phantom wanting to leave their family permanently.  Maybe once he came back together, once they merged together, it would be like he’d had a vacation.

“A day,” he said, slightly muffled.  “We can try it out for a day, see how it goes.”

Phantom nodded.  Danny could feel his chin move on the top of his head, up and down.  “One day.”

It was strange.  Danny couldn’t help but feel as if he and Phantom were agreeing to two different things.  

Despite their agreement, neither Danny nor Phantom made any move to leave.  They’d picked the day to do this carefully, so they wouldn’t be interrupted.  Danny supposed that Phantom wouldn’t leave until he sensed a ghost.  He could possibly use the time to work on homework, but… he really didn’t want to.  

It felt… safe.  Which made sense, since Phantom would protect him, but was weird, since he was usually Phantom.  

The way Phantom’s tail twined snakelike around Danny’s legs might have had something to do with it.  With staying, not with feeling safe.  Probably not with feeling safe.  

Danny sighed and pressed himself closer to Phantom.  He felt like a huge, cool pillow.  Surely, no one could blame Danny if he just… rested… for a minute…

.

Thank you for reading this far! If you would like to participate, please reply to this post with what you want to happen or want to see in the fic next. This can be an event (e.g. the lab suddenly explodes), a character appearing (e.g. Wes, Sam, Undergrowth), a headcanon being added to the story (e.g. ghost hunger), a POV switch (e.g. switch to Jazz), a setting element (e.g. the year is 2104), a ship (e.g. Everlasting Trio), or something else I've forgotten to list here.

To be used in the poll, your suggestions must:

Fit in a poll option (80 characters or less)

Not include crossover elements

Not include minor/adult ships

Be compatible with already established story elements

Other feedback is also welcome! Feel free to send me an ask!