Danger Days headcanons and one shots

☠️ A Chat With The Pheonix Witch ☠️

(sorry, not smut.)

Party Poison stared back at their own lifeless body, millions of questions troubling their mind. Was it truly over? Did the others make it out alive? Did Missile escape? Were they dead?

There were so many questions to be asked, but fortunately, It seemed as if time had frozen around them. white-clad killers, fossilized in the middle of battle. Yes, Party had all of eternity.

"Ah, Party Poison. I've been expecting you." a voice behind them rasped. Their tone was knowing and solemn.

If Party was really dead, they knew who this voice was coming from. The very God they had idolized from the moment they stepped foot on the desert sand, The Pheonix Witch herself. So their time in the desert really was over.

Party turned to face her. Not with the despair of a dead man, but in the fashion you would greet an old friend. This wasn't their first time speaking with the deity. Far from it. However, it seemed it would be their last.

They were pleased to see the familiar hockey mask and black feathers in front of them. The only constant in this terrible, chaotic world. Hesitantly they parted their lips to speak, not entirely sure of what they should say. So, they picked the first question that came to mind.

    "Already?"

    The witch nodded her head slowly in confirmation, the beads of her necklace clattering against each other as she did so. So it really was the end of their story. This moment between the killjoy leader and the deity they worshipped was only an epilogue to their brief and tragic tale.

    "Yes. I understand you must have some questions. I'm here to answer them and give you some peace of mind." she assured them. "Please tell me, what troubles you?"

Party considered for a moment where they would even begin. Then it came to them, the question that burned to be answered. "Did they make it out?"

"No. All four of your friends met the same fate. Death at the hands of the scarecrow unit." she gestured towards Kobra Kid's lifeless body about six feet away from Party's. They followed The Witch's motion with their eyes, and their heart sank.

"Your brother, he was the second to fall. He witnessed your extermination and in a fit of rage, he attempted to tackle the one who had slaughtered you." she didn't bother finishing the story. Party knew what came next. The silent husk of his brother spoke for itself.

"As for your lover, Fun Ghoul, he was the third. He stayed behind to hold off the enemies just long enough. He could have run with the other two and had a chance at survival, but instead, he chose to be the martyr. An honorable death."

Party found themself smiling a little. That was just like Ghoul, always throwing himself headfirst into danger. He never had much self-preservation, but he cared deeply for his friends. "What about Jet and Missile?"

"Jet star ran out of the building with Missile, running behind her to shield her from the ray gun blasts. Doctor Death Defying and Show Pony were waiting outside in their van when Jet Star was shot in the chest. Missile Kid managed to make it into the van unharmed."

A wave of relief crashed over them. Missile Kid was okay. They hadn't died in vain. As long as she was still alive, the rebellion would have a chance. They had achieved their final mission.

The Witch reached out and offered them a rough, taloned hand. "Come with me, I have something to show you that I'm sure you will like."

Party grasped her open palm lightly. Before they could even start to speculate, they were no longer in BLI/ND headquarters. They were back at the nest. A comfortable resting stop in the middle of nowhere, frequented by killjoys near and far.

"God's armpit." Party recalled the nickname, scanning the familiar room with their eyes. Killjoys of every shape and size crowded around the radio, listening intently to the words of Doctor Death Defying. The room was completely silent, as everyone listened in for news on the four killjoy leaders. Then the doctor's voice came drifting out of the speakers.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, I never thought this day would come. The four original killjoys have been ghosted in battery city."

People gasped and murmured at this startling announcement, at least until he began to speak again.

"Their masks have been recovered, so their ceremony will be held at sunset."

A ceremony. Party had been to countless ceremonies, it was easy to lose friends in such a dangerous place. They never thought they'd witness their own. "I want to watch it."

"I can arrange that." She took their hand again, and their surroundings shifted once more. They were outside The sky was painted a vibrant orange, an explosion of color and grandeur.

Hundreds of teenagers crowded around the witch's mailbox, parting like the red sea as Cherri Cola approached carrying the masks. His normally calm expression was twisted in sorrow. His hands trembled.

He set down the masks before the mailbox and stared down at them. He stared at them for a long time before he could bring himself to speak.

"There's a reason why we say 'killjoys never die'." he recites, turning to face the crowd. "It's especially true in this case. When a killjoy dies fighting, their memory lives on inside all of us." his voice quivered in the slightest. Party listened intently to what their old friend had to say.

"Though the original four killjoys died last night physically, their memory pushes future generations of rebels to keep fighting no matter the odds." as Cherri continued speaking, his voice became more firm and resolved.

"The four of them were like the brightest of candles. The only guide in a strange dark room. However, the brightest flames always burn out the quickest." Party felt a pang of pride. They never truly realized how big of an impact they had.

"In the end, they died young, and they died like heroes. They're with the witch now, so let's share a moment of silence for our fallen."

Party turned to look at the witch. They felt fulfilled, and at peace. They knew that the rebellion would continue to hold strong after their passing. So, they smiled and told her:

"I'm ready."

The deity looked back at him and silently held out her hand for them one last time. As soon as their palms met, Party was overcome by comforting feelings and fond memories.

The taste of bitter coffee on their tongue in the morning. The feeling of the sun beating down on their skin, the touch of Ghoul's lips against theirs. All those times Jet would listen to them whine when they had nobody else to cry to, hiding away with kobra in their room reading comic books, driving in the dead of night at full speed with no headlights on with Ghoul in the passenger's seat.

It came back all at once, and then as quickly as it started, it was over. Then there was darkness. The Witch had disappeared, leaving Party's consciousness to wander the dark, endless landscape.