This prompt was from ectolights!
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Tongue
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"Watch your tongue, little King, or it might get cut off."
"Better than having it grow forked," shot back Danny as he tried to squirm away from the snakelike ghost.
The ghost hissed. "Are you sure that won't happen anyway?" it asked. "You lie so much. How can you even tell what is true?" The ghost's forked tongue flicked from between its lips, lisping against Danny's cheek.
Danny flinched back, banging his head against the back of the tall wooden chair he was currently bound to. The ghost's coils shifted across Danny's lap and around his waist, their grip on his ankles tightened.
"At least my breath smells better than yours."
The ghost laughed breathlessly. "Little king," it cooed. "Do you think your iron crown will protect you?"
"I'm not a king," said Danny, struggling, "and I don't have a crown."
He didn't know what this ghost's problem was. A couple of hours ago, it had seemed like any other chimeric, human-animal mashup ghost that came to Amity Park: a cocktail of violence, misplaced anger, and superpowers. Like he would with any other ghost attacking Amity Park, Danny had come out to fight it. The fight had even been normal.
Right up until the ghost had bitten him and he found himself losing consciousness mid-punch.
He woke up here, chained to this chair, under an apple tree. The place wasn't familiar to him. He wasn't even sure if he was in the Ghost Zone or not.
Worse, he couldn't access his powers.
So, he did what any teenage superhero of questionable mortality and self-preservation skills would do: He mouthed off.
"No crown? We'll have to change that, now, won't we?" The ghost trailed a clawed hand over Danny's face, then slithered away into the surrounding foliage.
Danny heaved a sigh of relief and bent to examine the chains around his wrists and lower arms. Where and how did they connect, and how could he get out of them?
They must connect behind or under the chair, he decided, or at least out of sight. They were also very snug, so, sadly, he couldn't see a way to pull out of them.
Well, this was bad.
He looked around, trying to see if there was anything nearby that could help him. All he could see, though, were the branches of the large tree behind him, the clear area around it, and the circle of shrubby greenery around that.
Yep. Still bad.
Maybe he could break the chair if he pulled hard enough? It seemed pretty sturdy, but, well, he didn't have anything else he could try. He might as well give it a go.
All to soon, the snakelike ghost was back, a crude black crown clutched in one of its humanlike hands, a complicated array of straps and metal bits tossed over its scaly shoulder.
Danny did not like the look of either.
"Your crown, your small majesty," said the ghost, holding the piece of metal up so that he could see it.
The top came to a set of jagged, unevenly sized and spaced. On the outer sides, oddly enough, rough rings had been welded on. The work as a whole was lumpy and unattractive.
"I think it suits you," said the ghost. It was disturbing how sincere it sounded. "With this people will come from all corners to bow at your feet."
"I think you need your eyes checked," said Danny. "Or your head. Either one."
The ghost smiled, and the expression looked sick on its face. Almost delicately, it placed the crown on Danny's head. Then, lighting fast, it shoved the other thing, the thing made mostly of straps, into Danny's mouth.
Danny tried to bite down on the ghost's hand, but part of the thing was wedged in between his back teeth, and he couldn't. Then the ghost had its hands out, and was hooking the straps to the rings on the crown. At least, Danny assumed that's what it was doing. He couldn't see something on top of his head.
As the ghost fiddled with the apparatus, attaching straps to the crown, each other, and even the chair, Danny's jaw was forced open wider and wider until it was stretched to just shy of painful.
The ghost leaned back, admiring its handiwork, as Danny glared up at it, breathing heavily.
"I did tell you," it said. "Be careful, little king, or you'll lose your tongue." It reached into Danny's mouth and ran a claw across the back of Danny's tongue. Danny flinched and gagged, but his range of motion was even more limited than before and he couldn't get away. "Be glad I didn't cut it off entirely. I could still do that, you know."
The snake ghost stayed there for another few minutes, just staring down at Danny. Drool started to creep over Danny's lower lip and drip down his chin.
"I really do like you better this way. I think everyone else will, too." It tilted its head and smiled, fangs jutting out over its lower lips. "One last gift, before I go."
Without any further warning, the ghost lunged forward and bit Danny.
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It must have been hours later when Danny woke up, because his mouth was sore and tasted absolutely foul, but the light was the same, and he wasn't hungry or thirsty, or in need of a bathroom.
In conclusion, this must be somewhere in the Ghost Zone. Wonderful.
He shifted, looking around the little clearing. It looked like he was alone, but his field of view wasn't great. He tried accessing his ghost powers again. Nothing.
His shirt was also soaked with drool, which was… not great.
His jaw spasmed against the gag, and he moaned at the resulting pain.
Something rustled in the bushes. Danny went tense. There was little he could do against an enemy right now, but at least he could brace himself.
About a dozen small, troll-like ghosts emerged from the shrubbery, carrying baskets. They caught sight of him, froze for a moment, and started muttering among themselves in a ghost language Danny didn't know. They turned back to him, eyes wide and worshipful.
As one, they knelt.
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As was pathetically typical, Danny had no idea what was going on.
Alright, that wasn't entirely true. The little troll ghosts, and there were many more than the dozen or so he had first seen, had apparently decided to worship him. They left various offerings around his feet and decorated him with jewelry and flowers. Why? He didn't know.
Sadly, their idea of worship did not appear to include freeing him from his chains. Oh, no. Instead, they added more chains. More decorative ones than the originals, sure, but still chains.
This sucked. On so many levels.
The trolls' current activity involved a lot of dancing, singing, and genuflecting. Danny really could have done without any of it.
Then, miracle of miracles, the Specter Speeder crashed into the clearing. Jazz jumped out, wearing the Peeler, and the trolls scattered. Performing at least two unnecessary but admittedly cool rolls, Jazz made her way to Danny, and started cutting at the chains with a Fenton Definitely-Not-A-Lightsaber.
Sam stood by the Speeder doors, a truly enormous gun in her hand. Tucker was visible at the wheel.
The main chains gone, Danny pried himself up from the chair and stumbled towards the Speeder, Jazz's hand on his back. As soon as they were aboard, Tucker took off.
With Jazz's help he was able to get the gag and crown off.
"How did you find me?" he croaked. "I didn't see the boo-merang."
"Followed a rumor that a snake guy sold a king to the troll tribes on the black market," said Sam. "Apparently they worship kings, or something, but prefer them to be captive. I didn't really get it. Ghosts are weird."
"Oh," said Danny, taking a bottle of water from Jazz. "Guess they got scammed, then. I'm not a king."
Sam gave him an odd look. "I'm not sure they did."