Danny Phantom exe x Reader Oneshots

Fights And Cries (Danny x Reader ft. Birlap!)

TW: DEPRESSION, BLOOD, AND CUTTING

if you deal with any of these, at all. please seek professional help if you haven't already.

Hearing the front door slam shut and an endless string of curses, I slowly make my way back up to our room. He doesn't do this much, only when he's scared. And I know that now. I open the door and flop down on the bed, only to stain the pillow with mascara and tears. Fuck. I can't do anything right. Why can't I do anything right? It seems like he's always mad at me, and I always do something wrong. His hoodie is lying on my pillow, he gave it to me last night when we were out, and I was wearing something 'revealing' I guess. Suddenly I get an idea.

The little voice inside my head told me to do it, my gut said it would cause more problems. Meh, screw those problems. I wouldn't be around long enough anyway. I had been planning to do it for a while now, and it was in a week. Why not speed up the process? Then again, maybe this time this fight could be fixed. I don't know.

3rd person pov.

What you did know was that you had a box cutter in your hand, held up to your arm. 'Just a few cuts.' you thought. And cut you did. It stung, but it felt good. It relieved all your sadness, all your sorrow. It all came flowing out with the blood. What a pretty color blood was, you thought. Such a pretty crimson.

Soon a few cuts turned into somewhere between 25-30 deep, dark red gashes. The flesh of your arm was torn and ragged, and you were dizzy. You sat down on the floor of the shower, in nothing but your underwear. You didn't have the shower running, though maybe that would've been a good thing.

And so you sat. And you sat for hours or minutes, you couldn't tell. But by the time the sting had stopped, you were sitting in a pool of your blood. The box cutter was next to you, also covered in crimson liquid. Your underwear was soaked, from your right thigh and waist being torn and gashed as well.

Danny pov.

"I don't know Arny." "Go back." I sighed, I had been arguing with him for the past hour and a half over the phone in Denny's parking lot. "Danny, go back. How long has their clean streak been? 5 or 6 months?" His voice came over the speaker. "I think, yeah. Why?" I asked, throwing my head back and rubbing my eyes. "When was the last time you fought this bad?" His voice sounded knowing, sure that y/n wasn't going to keep that streak. "Five or six mon-" I stopped.

"Exactly." He sighed. "They aren't answering their texts. Danny, I will slap you next time I see you if they end up in the hospital. And not a bitch slap, dingus. Now hang up the fucking phone." I did as told and started the car.

Y/n pov.

The front door opening and falling shut jolted me awake. I heard rushed steps coming up the stairs and a bang on our bedroom door. "Y/n open the door!" He pleaded. I couldn't stand it. "The key is on top of the molding for the door frame," I replied. Damn, my voice sounds hoarse. He rushed into the bedroom only to be met with a second locked door. I laugh softly as he sighs.

"Key?" He asks. "Sock drawer, underneath the pair I never wear." I smile at the thought. "The bright orange ones?" "Mhm." I giggle. He rummages around for a few minutes then comes back to the door. I hear him insert the key and jiggle it around until the door handle is free.

The door swings open and there Danny stands, terrified.

Danny pov.

Y/n is sitting down in the shower, blood still dripping down the drain every few seconds. The crimson color dried on the tile, staining the grout a dark red. The grout surrounding the tiles y/n was sitting on made a path of blood running through the tiles. It looked like a satanic ritual happened.

Y/n could barely keep their eyes open, and their skin had lost all blushing color. I sigh and grab the first aid kit and many red towels and washcloths.

I soak a cloth in warm water and start with their non-dominant arm, slowly wiping away the blood from their elbow to wrist. The scabs had already started to form, but not enough to stop all the puss. "I'm sorry," I said mostly to myself. "Fine," Y/n mumbled. "This is gonna hurt." They nodded.

After cleaning and dressing their arm I started on their thigh and waist. After realizing that the cuts went past the elastic band of Y/n's underwear, I handed them a towel so Y/n could cover up beforehand. I repeated the steps I did for Y/n's arm, but they insisted on doing the dressing themself. I didn't argue, I just waited outside the door with a knowing smile until they called me back in.

"Having trouble?" I smirked. "Shut up." They blushed and handed me the gauze. I helped wrap the gauze around their waist and let Y/n do their thigh. I stepped out of the bathroom to go get Y/n some loose-fitting sleepwear and underwear. 

"Danny? Can you come help m- SHIT-" Y/n yelled. I rushed back into the bathroom and Y/n was on the floor again. "Y/n! Are you ok?" Y/n groaned on the floor. "No idiot. I tried to get up but my hand's covered in blood so when I grabbed the counter my hand slipped and I fell. Other than that I'm just fucking peachy." Y/n scoffed.

"I'm sorry..." I said again. "I already told you it was fine." They responded. I helped them up and out of the bathroom into the bedroom. They leaned against the bed as they got their clothes on. "Alright now, you take a nap. I'll make food and bring it up when I'm done." I said as I helped Y/n under the duvet. I kissed their forehead and turned off the lights, swearing that I'd never do that again.