Im soulmate au trash

If none of you know who Wes is look him up hes great

[Pairing: Unidentified flying ship (Wes/Danny) ]

[TW: swearing.]

Also I imagine that Wes has a potty mouth. Rated M just because of said potty mouth.

-o-

It usually happened on your fifteenth birthday or later.

In his experience, though, it happened right at the accident; portals were strange that way.

Getting a soulmark was probably the most uplifting, amazing part of anyone's life right next to actually finding your soul mate.

For him, though? He really wanted the mark to go away.

Because, showcased in a neat blueish tint on the bottom-side of his wrist was the first words he'd ever hear his soul mate say to him: 'What even are you?'

Now, if that wasn't so bad, it was worse due to the fact that he really didn't have much to go on, let alone how to answer that question. What would he say, 'im a hybrid of human/ghost DNA, it was an accident, im sorry'? - He really didn't know.

The question made him feel nervous. How would he answer? What would he do? Would his soul mate accept him, or let loose his secret?

He put on a smile the day after the accident when his parents gushed over the mark; they didn't want to know the scenario that would play out for such a question, nor did they ask him if anything was up. They just assumed it would be like how they met: In a college, accidentally bumping into each other, shouting about ghosts.

He never asked them about it, but they would swoon and coo over how romantic it had been. It's not everyday you finally get to meet your soul mate, and a lot of people have stereotypical soulmarks like 'here is your order', or 'hello', Heck, there were many people without the marks. It was easy for them to get excited over him having one.

Jazz hadn't had hers show yet, but she didn't let it get to her, merely trying to uncover the psychological effect it would have on him and blah, blah, blah. She was very happy for him, though, often trying to squeeze details of his life out of him on the pretense of learning.

He tried to hide the mark whenever he could using whatever he could. Big, blocky wrist watches, wrist bands, makeup, long sleeves, everything he could to try and cover it up, just to avoid the questions it would arise.

But today was probably the day everything would go wrong: Today was the annual S. ár, where everyone celebrates having soulmarks and soul mates openly.

Which meant Lancer, his English teacher, was going to make people show their marks and then ask the class to write papers or short stories for them, explaining what they could mean, or how they predict the soul mates meeting; creative writing but on more realistic terms, really.

Maybe half of his class will just snort and snicker as they write about him having vampirism, or try to explain how he was an actual monster child or something, but he was pretty sure Lancer would have none of it.

He sinks down in his seat, wishing for something to happen so he could run out of class; a ghost attack would be really nice right now. Maybe even just a fire or something. Anything, really.

Unfortunately his wishes are unheard, and the first student is called forward to present his mark: 'Cool' is written on his wrist in perfect, neat lettering, and the perfect shade of black. The most perfect mark, really. Danny's was all lopsided and written as if the writer hadn't cared either way.

Danny quickly writes a short story of nothing more than three paragraphs, with an even shorter explanation of why the soulmark said cool - 'obviously because their soul mate thinks theyre cool'.

Next was Dash Baxter, the one who liked to bully him most days and picked on others as a hobby. His mark was also perfect, save for the slight reddish tint: 'Knock it off'.

To say he had fun with that one was an understatement. That mark just left so much open, it was amazing. It could be a lady he met at a supermarket, it could be a coach he gets in the future, it could be anyone or any scenario simply because someone spoke up.

Well, that's how most marks are, but he wrote Dash's little story with all the venom he could think up; Dash bullying some underdog, his soulmate finding him, pushing him away, 'knock it off', etc, etc.

Maybe that'd make the teachers actually do something about the bully for once.

Then it was Sam - Lancer was going by the seating order this year - and her mark was looping and black and just - just very, very beautiful. Like something you'd see someone trying to photoshop their mark as, but better: 'Want to see something cool?'

No wonder she had a crush on him for a few years; he'd said something similar when they had first met. He remembers it like yesterday: A tiny ghost he'd hidden from his parents that he carried around in his backpack. Sam was instantly in his life after that, intrigued by everything and anything his family did or worked on.

Her parents were hardly around back then, so he could see why she had hung around almost every day. He wasn't sure how Tucker and her met, though, but they were all very close - are still very close.

Then, after Paulina and Tucker, he was next, and standing in front of everyone. He's nervous, shaking just a little as he pulls his sleeve back, ignoring Dash's jab of having a dirty mark - "What if his mark said fuck my ass?" - and Lancer's idle "Detention, Baxter."

His was lopsided, tilted to the left and messily wrote in a chicken scratch-esk kind of cursive. It was a light blue, but not too light that you couldn't see it. His was the kind of mark you'd only see on those 'super rare and weird' television shows, where they showcase freaks and weird stuff all the time. Or, in his opinion, anyway.

Everyone had gone quiet at the mark as he read it aloud for the ones in the back who couldn't see it well. Sam and Tucker shared knowing looks as they knew what the problem was right from the get-go, while everyone else had begun murmuring to themselves about what it could mean.

"Perhaps you do something less loser-like for once in your life." Paulina suggests, shrugging and flipping some hair out of her eyes.

"Gee, thanks." He deadpans, pulling the sleeve back over the mark.

"Maybe you get burned one day and turn into two-face," One of the people in the back says, "you can be the best villain."

"Are you a vampire?" Tucker laughs out, joking.

"What even are you? - Seriously?" A scoff in the back is heard, and everyone turns their heads to whoever had said it. Back there, looking as grumpy as ever was Wes Weston - he was one of the few who knew he was Phantom, and had tried to get him to admit it multiple times.

"You're a giant freak, is what you are!" Wes slams his hands on his desk, standing up, "Seriously, you're phantom! Admit it, Fenton!"

Danny shoots a glare his way, "I'm not Phantom! He's a hero, and, let's not forget - a ghost!"

"Oh yeah? Well what if I told you that he was a hybrid! You're a hybrid!"

"What if you're Phantom?"

"Shut up! You're Phantom, you freak! What the hell are you?"

They ignore the stares and the eyes shooting back and forth as they both shout on, oblivious to the fact that Lancer had gone to cover his mouth in surprise. Most of the other students were slower to catch on, but once they did they all adopted a certain look as if all collectively saying 'oh shit...this happened! this actually happened!'

Sam goes to raise her hand as if to ask Lancer if she (and most likely Danny) could leave, only to stop halfway as Wes stomps over to Danny, poking the other in the chest and spitting out another accusation:

"What the fuck are you? Seriously? - What the abso - fucking - shit are you? Some sort of abomination?"

Danny rolls his eyes, crossing his arms after slapping Wes' hand away, "Better than you!"

"Oh really? - Well, last I heard, ghost boy, that was -"

"-Boys." Lancer chokes out finally, catching their attention. They both blush at the scene they had made; Danny assumes everyone was looking shocked because of Wes' bad mouth, while Wes suddenly realizes what just happened.

"Holy shit." Wes gasps out, quickly pulling his wrist from his coat sleeve: 'I'm not phantom! He's a hero, and, let's not forget - a ghost' was written in a messy scrawl on his wrist, "Holy shit." he repeats.

"Go back to your seats." Lancer says, scratching his cheek, eyes still wide in surprise.

Danny takes a glance at Wes' mark, "Oh, God..." he gasps.

"You know what? - Just..." Lancer takes out two hall passes, handing them to the two, "Go. Settle this. You'll both get an automatic A, just go and..." he trails off, his eyes gazing just passed them, as if seeing something else, or, in this case, a wonderful book-worthy soul finding.

Wes hesitates before taking the slips of paper, heading out of class quietly, Danny trailing behind as if lost. Sam had looked like someone had burned all her black dresses, while Tucker had a twisted look of terror.

He was scared of what they'd say to him after class.

The hallways were empty save for a few students and teachers minding their own business, and it was quiet save for their footsteps.

"Holy shit." Wes whispers; he hadn't stopped looking at the words on his wrist.

No wonder he had been so obsessed with Phantom. No wonder he had been so obsessed to find out who Phantom really was.

It all clicked, in a weird way. Suddenly it seemed like Wes had been trying to find his soul mate for a long time, now.

They hadn't truly talked until today, and that fact was amazing, really, with all the ways Wes would try to expose Phantom.

He never would, though, Danny knows, because he was Phantom.

What if Wes wouldn't accept him? What if him being Phantom was too much to take?

What if Wes didn't want him?

Unbeknownst to him, Wes was having the same kind of problem:

'What if he doesn't love me because of what I said about him? - He's not Phantom, is he? I messed up, I messed up so bad.'

The tension in the air was thick, and by the time they made it to the lunchroom, they were both feeling ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

They stand near the double doors leading outside, before Wes sighs loud in frustration, holding his face in his hands and walking a quick circle.

Danny may or may not have jumped at that, but chose not to voice anything.

"I'm " - Wes takes a large breath, readying himself - "-so, so, so sorry. I'm so sorry." he says. "I put you through so much bullshit, I just -"

Danny shrugs, "It's okay."

"It's not! Holy fucking shit." Wes swears again, making another circle. Danny wasn't sure why he was walking in circles and breathing so heavy, and hoped the lunch ladies didn't come over to see what was wrong. He assumed it was Wes' way to cope right now.

His own coping system was practically offline at this moment; He stood there all nervous and shaky and wondering and scared - but...but he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to express that he wasn't calm and this was sudden and weird and - wow.

"Are you okay?" he squeaks out, shuffling his feet a bit as Wes turns sharply back to him again.

"Am I - Am I okay?" Wes repeats, "I'm not okay! I messed up! I messed up!"

At Danny's silence, Wes groans, "I fucking - I fucking shat all over you with words!"

"- You do great with words." Danny chips in nervously.

"Can you not?" Wes says, "I'm trying to - I want to..." he sighs, lowering his voice as they both glance in the direction of the kitchen, and the few women who had been watching the two, "apologize. God, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Danny says quietly, "I'm used to that stuff."

"Being accused of being Phantom when you're not? - Being called a freak and - just - everything?"

"I said some things about you, too!" Danny states.

By now the two had stepped closer to one another to the point where, if they were to take just another step, they'd end up bumping into each other. They notice this, but ignore it in the meantime.

"They weren't as bad, though!" Wes says, "I messed up so bad..." he puts his hands back in his face, making a noise of frustration.

Danny isn't sure what spurred him on, on before he could really think about his actions, he reaches up to take Wes' hands away from his face, "It's okay, alright?" he says, "Sure, it was mean, but it's okay now, right?"

Wes lowers his arms, their hands intertwining, "It's not okay. I just - I was so sure you were Phantom, and - my mark - and everything...I messed up."

"I messed up, too." Danny smiles, looking down at their hands shyly.

"But did you call me a freak and try to accuse me of something?"

"No."

"I messed up." Wes repeats.

"We all mess up, you know?" Danny says, gaining some courage to roll his eyes. Wes rubs his thumb along Danny's hand soothingly. "Besides..." he lowers his voice, shooting a small glance at the kitchen before looking to Wes, "You weren't entirely wrong."

A few beats of silence and thinking is all it takes for Wes to furrow his brows, "You shouldn't think of yourself as a freak, okay?" He says.

"No, not a freak -" Danny says, " - or, well, a freak, yeah, but not that."

It takes Wes maybe a minute more before his eyes widen, "Holy shit - sorry - but you're...?"

Danny nods, "It was an accident." he whispers.

"So...I was right all along?" The look of awe on Wes' face spoke much more than his mouth could at the moment, his mouth opening and closing as if to say something and then ditching the idea.

"Do you hate me?" Danny whispers.

"I - I never did." was the quiet answer.

Their hands tighten, Wes leaning down just a bit - they weren't that far apart when it came to height - and, if one were to ask Danny later, he would deny it if his heart did a weird leap for joy at the idea of kissing Wes and -

"- Oh my God!"

They both quickly jump, bumping into each other, looking to the double doors, which were now open.

Jazz is there with a phone in hand and a wide, almost manic smile on her face, "Danny!"

"Oh, no." Danny groans.

-o-

Im laughing but also crying

flip u Jazz