AU: Selective Mute Danny
Rating: Teen and Up
Word Count: 605
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Ghostwriter/Randy Riter
Tags: Selective Mute Danny, Non-Canon Compliant, Implied/Referenced Trauma
Summary: Danny had... a rough experience when he was young. Something happened that caused him to fall silent for... Well, practically forever. He still has the ability to talk, but... Well, a large majority of the time, he finds no need. But sometimes... Sometimes he finds people that make him want to try, despite everything.
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I drew something!!! It's not shaded but i colored it so yay! This is ghostwriter and his brother Randy check this out if you haven't @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter is incredibly gifted at writing! I've reread it at least ten times. Hope you all like them!
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Organization for Transformative Works
Normally, when one awakens within a white void, the appropriate response is to panic and search fruitlessly for an exit. Tucker Foley, regardless of his willingness to admit it out loud, was not a normal person. He simply checked himself for all his body parts, was thankful that he had his clothes on, and adjusted his glasses. “So, who is this, what are you doing, and why?”
A voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, laughed. “Most first-timers aren’t nearly this calm, not even for a facade. To answer your questions, I am Randy, though you may call me the Game Master. Your buddy Danny Phantom went and got my brother tossed in jail and while he got out just fine, I thought ‘hey, only I get to get Andy tossed in jail.’ What better way to get petty revenge and entertainment than a game with friends?”
Tucker blinked a few times, staring at the black and gold holographic projection of a 5th edition character sheet before him, name, race, and stats already written in. “So, we’re playing dungeons and dragons? But ghostly, so we can actually do the things in game. Ok, bet, what’s the objective? I do have school to get back to after this.”
“Oh don’t worry about that,” Randy said with a chuckle. “This is the Infinite Realms, after all! You can spend a lifetime here and be sent back to your precious home and life back in your old body from before you left if I do it right.” Tucker frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Oh yes, that means exactly what you think it does.”
“Who’ve I got as my team mates? Danny, Sam, probably Jazz too obviously, but I don’t think you’re the kind of GM to go putting together an entire world without a nice big group to explore it.”
“Well, Danny’s got himself more than one sister, doesn’t he? And who says this isn’t a family-friendly game?” There was laughter, and Tucker sighed, pinching his nose.
“Well, if I’ve gotta deal with the Fentons then I gotta get this right. Ok, Randy, game on.”
Basically? This won’t make sense if you haven’t read any of my other work involving Ghostwriter/Andrew Riter and Randy. If you have read most of my work however, enjoy!
Inspired by the following text from my girlfriend: I just realized I could so totally see a younger Andrew "I'm here, I'm here, monsieur! The Angel of Death!"
Warnings: Minor character death resulting of guns and fire.
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Whispers floated up through the stale, dusty air of the near forgotten warehouse their latest targets had taken to using as a meeting ground. Randy would have been more amused if he weren’t so disappointed in such a cliche. Plotting the deaths of government officials by way of bombing a government building was forgivable in its commonality, but doing so in a rundown warehouse close to the docks? It was, to borrow Andrew’s wonderfully bitter wit, an utterly disappointing story.
The self-imposed leader was crouched over a set of plans and scribbled in notebooks, blowing out a stream of smoke as if to make the horrid cliches of the night even worse. “And you’re sure this can be done? I don’t want any more fucking mistakes after Jared and his lot.” Jared, hm? Now why did that sound familiar… Ah. He had been dealt with last month.
“Like I said before, boss.” Ugh. Boss? Really? “We got it all planned down right to the second.” There were grins and laughs exchanged between the group, Randy sighing as he silently raised himself to stand from his crouched position on one of the catwalks. He supposed, what with the group’s ‘meeting’ drawing to a close, he had better get to work.
Scanning the ground and seeing a small pebble, Randy smirked to himself before kicking it over the edge just so to bang against an empty oil barrel. The way the men jumped to stand or scrambled to hide things was more amusing than it should have been.
The leader of them, Darrel, was the only one to stay calm. Randy had to admire him for that if nothing else. Randy watched as the man straightened himself up, flicking his used cigarette to the ground before crushing it under his heel, “Easy, boys. Just seems like we got a rat problem is all. Why don’t you start looking for it?”
Ah, well, there went all of Randy’s respect. Sighing and absently flicking a hand through his hair, Randy moved quietly and quickly, keeping the men in his line of sight. There were only six of them — seven including the leader. It wouldn’t exactly be a hard mission of theirs to finish. Then again, they didn’t seem to be complete morons.
They had immediately spread out to block the exits in a move that was somewhat intelligent. A shame none of them bothered to look up. What was worse, though, was one of them laughed, cooing, “Come out, come out, little rat. We promise we won’t hurt you. At least, not much.” And to think that these were men that some people feared.
“Hey, Darrel,” one of them, one who had remained close to the leader, was speaking in a quiet tone — not quiet enough, though. They were in a large, echoing warehouse. “You’ve heard the stories, right? What if it’s one of them Sect-”
“Don’t even fucking talk about them, man.” Oh? Darrel suddenly didn’t look so relaxed and confident. Perhaps he had some self-preservation instincts after all. “They’re nothing but a fucking ghost story.” Oh… now how could Randy resist an introduction as lovely as that one?
Leaning over the edge of the catwalk, Randy hummed a sweet little song under his breath, almost laughing as all the attention in the room turned towards him at once, “I have to say… I haven’t heard us called ghosts before.” While Darrel and the other man looked pale as the ghosts they had compared him towards, the other idiots all rolled their eyes or scoffed.
“What? It’s just a fucking kid?” A couple of them laughed, but Randy only went back to humming, running the numbers through his head once more. There were seven of them in total. Randy had six shots before he would need to reload. No matter how quick of a shot he was, one would still be breathing when their Priest finally arrived. “Hey! You even fucking listening!”
Ah, but these were the types who didn’t deserve the mercy they could offer. Randy couldn’t have stopped his laughter even if wanted to, fingers twitching towards sleek metal that was already loaded. His claws were drawn and oh, how he so wanted to use them. As it was, he settled with a croon, a soft, “You know, if you were smart, you would be running scared right now.”
“Hey! Shut the fuck up! We ain’t afraid of shooting a fucking kid! We’re the ones you should be fucking scared of-”
“You?” Randy was no longer laughing, instead he felt the disgust crawling up his throat. These men — men like that — knew nothing of what true fear was. “I’ve killed more people than years you’ll ever live. Although… I suppose that isn’t saying much seeing as how tonight will end.”
As if his words became the trigger themselves, an explosion of fire ripped through the warehouse. Randy was quick to position himself closer towards an exit, watching with interest as fire, set off by the gathered gunpowder in the building, began to leap from one wooden crate to the next.
Swearing and short screams flew through the air, but what was clearest was a bright, piercing laugh, the followed words just as clear and bright and, “I’m here, I’m here, monsieur! The Angel of Death!” It was a voice Randy knew better than his own heartbeat and an order he was more than happy to comply to.
The realization, he was certain, hadn’t sunk in for all of the now dead bodies that littered the burning warehouse, but Randy doubted it would have changed anything even if they did realize just who they had been.
A flash of black flew towards one of the exits, Randy following at a more subdued pace as he shot his gaze over burning skin and glassy eyes, making sure all of the bodies caught before he let in satisfaction. Once he was outside in the cool night air, he couldn’t help his soft laugh, a familiar body moving to press up against his own. “The Phantom of the Opera? Really?”
“I rather thought it good, myself,” Andrew, his sweet little brother, grinned as he spun on his heel, coat flaring out around him. He looked every inch the priest he claimed to be as he clasped his hands together and bowed his head.
“A prayer for the dead?” Randy half-asked, looking to where the warehouse was burning bright, flames searing against the night sky. It wouldn’t be long before officials were on their way.
“Always,” Andrew responded, voice reverent before he continued in a softer voice, “But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”
How fitting, Randy mused to himself, watching the flames burn and rage, the sight reflected in Andrew’s bright eyes, the green turned almost red from the skewed light.
The grin on the younger’s face did nothing to temper his ‘prayer,’ only warping it further as he purred out a sweet, “For our God is a consuming fire…” A consuming fire, huh? “Amen.”
Randy turned his back as the fire ravaged everything it touched, Andrew quick to tether himself back to his side now that their mission was fulfilled. It was over, and yet… Randy couldn’t help but feel as if something had sparked.
Excerpt One: Set before Chapter One of From the Beginning
Rating: G+
Warnings: Guns and shots being fired
Summary/Inspired By: A comment left by @midori37 in her tags on one of the From the Beginning chapters. She said she would love to see a peek of what happened when Randy went to pick up Andrew from Walker’s jail, and, well. I couldn’t resist.
Hey, if you enjoy this and the rest of Guardians, be sure to click here to check out ways of supporting me and my writing.
Be sure to read From the Beginning, too, if you haven’t already!
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“Seriously? He’s keeping the Ghostwriter in here? Walker knows what happened last time we dealt with that crazy brother of his, doesn’t he?”
“Apparently Walker wants to make an example out of him. Something about how even powerful ghosts can be brought down by justice. He’s in solitary right now after making that mess the other day.”
“You call that making a mess? From what I hear near all of Cellblock E was destroyed by him before he guards managed to subdue him-”
“Oh?” Honestly, Walker’s guards were certainly lacking if they hadn’t even noticed him there. It had been at least five minutes, after all. “And just how did these guards manage to subdue my sweet little brother?”
“Alright, ghost, hands up where we can see them!” While one of the dear little idiots pointed that ridiculous baton at him, the other looked at him with fear. How nice to see his name had travelled in this world, too. “Surrender now or-”
Randy shot him before he even finished, amused at how the ghost fell without having even bothered to throw up a shield. He’d be fine in the next few days if he had decent enough healing, so Randy didn’t bother to waste much time before he was gathering his energy around him and appearing in front of the guard left standing.
“I believe I asked you a question.” The guard stared at him for ten full seconds after stumbling back before dropping his weapon and flying down the hall as quick as he could, screaming for reinforcements at the top of his lungs. “You guys are getting rather dramatic, aren’t you?”
The ghost didn’t even get around the corner before Randy shot him down, holstering his gun and heading in the other direction once he did so. Already he could feel Andrew’s energy, unstable as it was. No doubt that was from where his keyboard had been smashed. Really, Randy had told him that he needed to stop relying on that thing so much.
“Mercenary.” Hm? Oh, well, if it wasn’t the man of the hour himself. Oh, dear, Walker looked upset. Randy should fix that.
“Did one of the guards wake up already? I thought it would at least take a few days with how weak they all are to my shots.” Ah, much better. An enraged Walker was always so much fun to play with.
“You know the rules.” Walker and his rules… It was like he never heard of the word fun. “Breaking into my prison is automatic grounds for imprisonment yourself-”
Quick as a flash and Randy was in front of Walker, grinning when the man didn’t even take a step back. He always had been fun. “You know the Observants would never let you keep me.”
“Your usefulness will run out eventually, punk.” Walker’s words were near growled out, Randy flashing a snarl right back at him. He never had liked Walker and the insanity that clung to the man. It was too… slick. Oily. Dark. Disgusting. It felt too much like tar. It was too familiar a feeling for Randy to ever feel comfortable around the ghost.
“Where’s my brother, Walker.” Randy searched for Andrew’s energy again, cocking his head to the side and oh, yes, that was right. Solitary.
“What makes you think we have him?” Cute. Randy would have believed that if he was eight. Well, maybe nine if it was a bad day.
“Oh, please, don’t insult us both by bothering to lie.” Andrew’s energy was unstable, but Randy knew it as well as his own by now. “We’ll be leaving soon, so keep the doors open for us, yes?”
“You’ll get yours one day, Riter.” Yes, yes, all these threats and they were always the same. Tossing back a smirk, Randy shifted his focus and being and pictured the path that led straight to where Andrew was.
A quick second and his body settled, and he saw a familiar figure curled up in a seat and looking bitter and frustrated with a dark scowl to match. Overall, Andrew seemed perfectly alright.
“Roses are red, violets are blue, orange you glad to see me?” The look on his little brother’s face had Randy giving a sharp grin. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard all about your little Christmas vacation.”
“Walker! I thought I was to be put in solitude!” Even as Andrew complained, as per usual, he was already up off his seat and as close to the bars as he could get. “Solitude means no visitors!”
“Come on, Andy, it’s still practically Christmas. Aren’t you glad to see your big brother?” The looks just kept getting better. Laughing to himself a bit, Randy gathered up some of his energy and threw it around Andrew before giving it a sharp pull back towards him, pleased when Andrew teleported to his side and through the ghost-proof bars.
“I hate when you do that,” Andrew grumbled, clutching a book close to his chest and looking a touch sick. “It’s the worst form of motion sickness.”
“Mm, but it gets the job done.” Flicking Andrew’s ear, Randy grinned at the sharp yelp. “That’s for getting yourself caught.”
“Oh, so you would have been fine with it all if I hadn’t been caught- Don’t answer, I already know what you’ll say. Where’s Walker and his lot?”
“We had a conversation about your sentencing. It seems he’s agreed to lift it early in light of the holidays.” At the single raised eyebrow, Randy rolled his eyes and cuffed Andrew by the collar of his jacket before pulling him along. “Come on, let’s get you back to Vidya before you combust from being away from your books for so long.”
Three, two, one- “Com- That is not funny, Randall!” Good, Andrew sounded properly dramatic and no longer had that lingering doubt and worry cloaked around him. “How did you even find out I was here?”
“Are you kidding? A ghost breaks the truce for the first time in years and it’s over attacking the new hero of Amity Park. You think I wouldn’t hear about that one?”
“He started it.” Glancing to the book Andrew was still holding and seeing the title, Randy shook his head and oh, this was bound to be an interesting story if nothing else.
“Really? Tell me about it.” That was all it took for Andrew’s eyes to light up. He always had been pleased when he had a story to tell.
As Andrew launched into the most hilarious and stupid fight he had ever been a part of, Randy tucked the information away to investigate later. Danny Phantom sounded interesting, if nothing else.
