#(was missing one spirit/ability and i kept going past it thinking 'no i already checked that place i cant do anything yet')

[amphibianaday]

how long have you been aware of Atul from spirit farer?

day 1532 this is obviously just an excuse to draw him again (referenced straight from an ingame screenshot) i've been passivley aware of him for a while. i'm pretty sure someone requested him and i intended to draw him and just forgot actively aware - about a week, since i started playing the game myself :)

[lameghost]

Scream blue murder.

Bonten! x yakuza! leader [part 3]

word count - 2,538

💿 - deathwish by poutyface, to the bone by j.t machinima

Warnings❕- angst + fluff+ suggestive. Mentions of death, sewer slide, drugs, physical and mental abuse.(slight hints of ptsd) Mentions of Izana x reader and others. Spoilers! Bonten arc. Blood and gore. (pinky cutting and mentions of gas poisoning, mass murder.) reader goes berserk! putting a knife in each other's throat? reader is freaky fugg. and also apparently, an expert at chemistry.

[part 1] [part 2]

“So, 12 years… You were gone, just like that and you aren’t gonna say anything, huh? Saying ‘I love you’ like that, ain’t fucking fair, y/n. I missed you for all those years. I searched for you like a madman. Fuck, you didn’t even come by to look for me or shit. You know how fucking miserable I was, after Izana was gone and you too!” Everyone flinched at the sight of the usually calm Kakucho raising his voice. You were surprised too, but you kept on an indifferent facade as you looked down, guilt overwhelmed you.

Kakucho takes a few steps towards you, “I wanna hate you for it but I can’t. You’re too fucking precious to me. The last one I have here, and I thought you were fucking dead.” You did no such attempt to avoid the slap which landed on your face as tears flowed down Kakucho’s face. You heard the faint gasp from all the executives of Bonten. You just kept quiet.

“Hug me, god fucking damn it. I missed you.” With no hesitation, you engulfed him in a hug, basking in his warmth which came into contact with your bare skin. You smiled, relishing the memories of your childhood.

“Fucking hell that was touching as shit.” Sanzu fake cries, deep down he still felt bad since he knew that you were as important to Kakucho as Mikey was to him. Losing you would have meant losing his entire world. In reply, you lifted your middle finger, sticking out your pierced tongue at the pink-haired male. He chuckles slowly.

“Holy shit, yer got piercings, that’s hot, dude.” You nodded at Rindou’s question .

“Show us, I mean your tattoos and piercings.”

“That’s a pretty specific kink you have, Sir Mikey. I mean, I know I look hot as shit but.” He snickered, signalling that he only wants your full identification.

“If you insist, your honour.” You fake sighed as you turned around and began explaining your tattoos.

“29 piercings and last I checked, around 18 or 19 tattoos. Got my first tattoo at 13, illegally. Thank god I didn’t die of infection or some shit. Dude was a nice guy, he even taught me how to take care of a  new tat.” They all gasped, ‘doesn’t that shit hurt you?’. Ran and Rindou who were basically half covered in tattoos were also surprised by your ability to withstand the pain.

“Which one hurt the most though? Your tits or sumn?” Sanzu bluntly asks as he touches the tattoo on your left arm.

“Oh well, yer wanna see? Better pay money though.” You smirked and sent him a wink as you gave him a slight teaser of your tattoo, he blushed. Welp, you broke the dope peddler.

“You’re quite a mystery, aren’t you?” Mikey says, his voice dark and screechy, almost like he has been straining it.

“Your back. That ain’t a tattoo. Someone carved those characters into you.” He traces the Chinese characters on your back. You slightly flinched at the sudden cold touch of his finger. “Only the top brass of Yakuza has this, yeah? Which means, you’re the current hidden leader of the Yakuza. Working for them quietly backstage, is that fun? Don’t you wanna take the credit?” He was inches away from your face, you tilted your head slightly at his demise.

“Take credit? Pftt. Observant but dumb aren’t yer, pretty boy?” You cupped his jaw between your gloved fingers. “I fucking love it when people worship me, bow to me and praise me for all my work but I wouldn’t want my pets to go unrecognised do I? Plus, isn’t it harder to keep myself lowkey from the police that way? I have my plans, baby and I don’t like it when people question me.” You smiled and let go of his jaw, never in his life has he been this stunned by someone’s actions and indifference. This was a first.

“This carving was done by my dad. I was the only child who was able to take over the family business so, here I am. Healthier than ever!” You smiled, highlighting the dimples which brightened your eyes even more under the light which shone above you.

“So, you’ve taken a blood oath?” Kokonoi asks, curious.

“Oh that’s fucken bullshit. We don’t do those. We’re just old delinquents who don’t wanna follow laws, we don’t sacrifice ourselves. I mean that does sound cool though. The most we do is cut our pinky. I’ve cut 12 as of this week,” You sat back down, nonchalantly telling them. You put your suit back on, adjusting the tie.

Bang! A loud gunshot was heard from behind you, in one swift movement, you swooped Ran and Sanzu who were directly in front of you. ‘Top criminal organisers but can’t see a bullet coming their way? Great, fucking idiots.’ You looked down, the bullet grazed by your shoulder slightly. Thank god for that. You picked up the shell and the bullet which landed not far from it. You analysed the bullet, standing up immediately after recognising it. ‘Mauser C96. 0.45 ACP. Made in Germany. Oh fuck, why are they here?’

“Oi, you twinks. Came here to save me or something?” One by one, your members peeked their heads out from behind the oil tanks. Number 2, Tanaka Ryu. This kid has been behind you since juvie days. Once he got out, he looked for you and followed you till the very end even if it meant jumping into hellfire for you.

“If I couldn’t fight, I would have died to these hot dudes, you know? Do we need to practice again? Should I drill it into your brains?” All the members, a good 25 of them, stood at attention, weapons dropped to the floor with their hands behind their back.

“No, your honour!” In unison, their voices echoed one another. Bonten was too stunned to say a thing. Their mouths merely shut tight as your dominant aura overflowed through the entire warehouse.

“Good, and Tanaka, don’t mind, okay? Small mistake. I’m fine, n’ways.”

“Apologies, your honour. Take my pin-” You shushed him as you signalled everyone to get down and ready their weapons. Bonten, who was behind you, followed your command. You gestured for Mikey to come to your side, he slowly strides towards you.

“Mikey, listen. Now, your turf is being infiltrated. You heard that gunshot? Nagant M1895. That strong shit is only used by the Yakuza traitors. Those fuckers have been on my back for the last few months and I need a few extra hands so that I can alert my turf. After that, I’ll help yer. There should be at least 230 of them. 2 top heads and the other 8 executives. The rest are all their lackeys, bad fighting skills but good spirits. Now, we separate, I’ll alert your members too.”

You and Mikey, the leaders, moved into positions immediately. Working together for the first time but it almost seemed as if you’ve worked together for the past 10 years. You stationed Sanzu and your number 3, Haruto, right in front of you. These two are wild and have a few screws loose in their brains, so they make a good pair. They can slaughter some while you make a few alerts to your guards in your territories. You wanted to get it over and done with fast even if it meant, murder. So, you analysed whatever you had in your reach.

“Y/n-chan. What are you doing? I wanna smoke.” Sanzu said, questioning what you were looking at.

“Shush, let me think of a way to get rid of evidence fast and simple.” Haruto drags Sanzu back to their station as they both chat away, swinging the bloodied weapons in their hands. Psychos, I swear.

‘Benzoyl peroxide, TNT, fire extinguisher, bleach, ammonia and diesel.’ Fucking hell, they were making this a bit too easy isn’t it? You called Sanzu and Haruto over to help you. You took the empty tank, putting on your mask before starting and gesturing the two males to do the same. You poured the bleach into the empty tank followed by ammonia.

‘Do you think what you’re doing is right?’ The tiny voice in your head asks. ‘Well these people mass murdered 226 of the Yakuza members, isn’t it only fair?, ‘Of course, but can’t the police punish them?’. ‘What. They hurt me, not the police, I’ll make them save me a seat in hell. Especially that blabbermouth oldie.’, ‘I guess there’s no stopping you, y/n l/n. You’re a murderer after all.’ Wait, what the fuck? I’m not! They did it first, why is it me? Why am I to blame? Fuck, fuck you. ‘You’re a murderer by nature, y/n. That’s why your Mom and Dad passed this onto you.’ Shut up. They’re dead, they are just ashes, seeping into earth or maybe being swallowed by maggots. Those 2 are dead to me. ‘Your mom isn’t dead. Not yet.’ Well, I want her dead. ‘You gonna kill her, too? Like what you did to your old man? You’re naive, a pretty soul, one that I would kill to dirty but you already did it yourself.’

You halted your movements, Sanzu and Haruto stared wide-eyed at your face. Your face contorted with rage, aura screaming murder at them. This brings Sanzu back to 12 years ago when- nevermind. “Earth to y/n, we gonna continue?”

“Haruchiyo. Katana. Haruto, pass him your pistol, I’ll be right back.” ‘You’re gonna regret it, y/n.’

“SHUT UP! HOLY FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP! UGH!” You let out an indignant roar, making Kakucho and Mikey halt their movements as they continued throwing punches to the opposing team. Kakucho ran towards you, covered in blood which did not belong to him.

“Hey, y/n. Hey, look at me.” You looked at him, tears of anger welling up in your eyes. (You can only cry when you’re angry but not when you’re sad.) He pats your back, telling you to kick some ass to relieve your anger. Well, that was your green light.

You swung the Katana out from your back which had a strap, tailor made for you to store katanas. As always, pecking the handle beforehand, showing respect. ‘About 104 left, gonna be easy.’ The rest of your members and Bonten members along with the executives gathered, wanting to watch you fight. It was almost like a playback of 12 years ago.

You dropped the katana to the floor, jumping onto the first person you see, hanging from the shoulder. You swung around, possibly breaking his spine and picked up two other men by their collars. Swinging them towards the tower of diesel tanks, you made your way to your next victims.

“So, pick yer death.” You smirked, but your eyes were empty and lifeless. Your bloodthirsty aura engulfed the entire warehouse, stripping the audience off any form of excitement. The male approached you, in a split second, he was inches from your face.

“HAHAHAAHA, you’re fast but you lack experience, sweetheart.” You caressed his face, voice coated full of sinister but in his ears, it was like honey. It gave his brain whiplash how contrasting your voice was to your actions. Without batting an eye or even giving him room to recover from your touch, your left leg flew forward. Landing directly onto the wound of his temple, plunging onto the floor. You took the chance to take a seat on his back.

You rummaged through his pockets, stopping when you found his phone. You dialed a number, the others stared at you curious. “I need about, uhh, 7, no, 8 ambulances, for the Shibuya area. The warehouse down the second turn. Thank yer!” You smiled and threw the phone across the room.

“Now, there’s only… let me see… 3 of you left. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets to pick the lucky one.” You signaled them to start playing, with trembling figures, the 3 males began playing. You placed the lit cigarette in between your lip, enjoying others misery.

“She’s kinda hot, though.” You heard Sanzu whistling and howling from behind you as you exhaled the smoke and took off your blazer, rolling up your sleeves. You sent a kiss his way as you made your way to the poor male - a prisoner of his own bad luck.

“Hey, mister. Long time no see. I’m bigger now, if you can’t clearly see.” You subtly flaunt, towering over the male before you. You bent lower so you could make direct eye contact with him. The eye contact sent cold shivers down his spine which made him froze, his lips quivered as you moved your gloved finger, gliding down his tattooed back.

“Oi, mister. I’m talking to you, it’s rude to not reply to your master, y’know? It kinda hurts my feelings,” You faked your sadness, pretending to sob into his shoulders. If he wasn’t already stiff, he is now officially the statue of liberty.

“Y-yes, your honour!”

“Good pet. Now, let me get my work done. You know what happens to traitors, don’t you? Perverted old man.” You removed the kunai which was secured tightly in the pocketed garter which hung from your thigh. You simpered, looking pleased at the amount of fear you could elicit from the pathetic man.

“AHHHHHHHH!” He writhed in pain, screaming blue murder.

“Okay, that was the last one! 12 plus 10 equals 22! 22 pinkies!” You giggled, cracking a smile from your scarred mouth. A horrifying sight, it was.

“Fuck, didn’t know you were capable of such cruel shit.” Ran sends a surprised look, scanning you up and down as you wiped the blood off your gloves and chuckled.

“Born and bred to do this shit.”

You knew you were done but there was some unsettling feeling that irked your senses, but what was it? Could it be you forgot something-

“We’ll take over from here, as an apology and a thank you for not murdering us.” Mikey said, a small smile on his face.

“Oh no, it was great working with you, Sir Mikey.”

“Don’t call me that, on god, I’ll put a knife in your throat.”

“Do it then, it’s not a threat Mikey. ” Your little bicker was put to a stop when Kokonoi seemingly  ‘cleared his throat’ loudly.

“So, you’re a professional torturer, a sugar mommy, free show stripper, yakuza leader, a mass murderer, chemist and now, a hooker. What else do we not know about you?” Kokonoi asked, voice laced with curiosity. His eyebrows raised as his eyes searched for answers in yours.

“Oh darling, I’m a walking unsolved mystery. Yer wanna find out? Yer gotta dig deep into the layers of this earth. Yer wanna solve me still?”

“Yeah, I do.” The short, purple haired spoke up. (You forgot his name.)

“Oh then, put on a raincoat. This year’s theme is bloody halloween. Wouldn’t want blood staining yer expensive suits.” You stuck out your tongue, making a move as sirens filled the quiet warehouse. 

‘Roppongi, Don Quijote, 31st October, 9 P.M. Be there or else you owe me candy.’ The boys chuckled, making a run as the police broke in.

[dp-marvel94]

Dan Redemption with a twist

So I'm still geeking out over my ask that @stillebesat answered a few days ago, the one where about an upcoming fic. I've been playing around with a really similar idea, with a redeemed Dan fusing with a clone of Danny, for months now.

Here's my idea:

First of all, my preferred version of Dan is basically Danny but evil. He less fused with Plasmius and more consumed his powers so Dan doesn't have any of Vlad's memories. Next, I'm a big fan of the idea that Dan deeply regrets killing his human half and is, for lack of a better word, haunted by the action. It was the first death of his reign of terror, his final chance to turn back from the dark path he was on and...it was his suicide.

Now, Dan doesn't realize any of this for what feels like centuries. He's trapped in the Fenton thermos in Clockwork's lair, alone with only his thoughts. And the knowledge starts creeping in, all that he'd lost, all that he'd done. He realizes that he misses his friends and family and to his surprise, he hopes his younger self saved them. But then he realized that he tried to kill them. And the guilt starts creeping in. The regret follows and he remembers all the rest of his crimes. He doesn't have enough humanity, enough emotional capacity to be wrecked but he's no longer a rage fueled destructive monster.

Then to Dan's shook, Clockwork releases him without a word. The master of time dumps him in the new timeline, maybe a few months after the events of TUE. To his dim relief, Dan finds that his friends and family are all still alive. He watches them for a while, trying to process where he is and what happened. But then he runs into Danny. And things don't go well. It's a rocky start. Danny does not trust Dan at all. He doesn't trust that the older ghost has no intention of hurting his loved ones. Danny is ready and willing to fight and recapture him. The younger's opinion doesn't change until Dan saves him and Jazz during a ghost attack. The two ghosts, at Jazz's insistence, come to an uneasy impasse. Danny will leave Dan alone if the older ghost leaves him and his family alone. Dan isn't really happy about this arrangement but it's better than being trapped in the thermos again and he does have no intention of hurting his younger counterpart or his loved ones.

So Dan concedes. He stays out of Danny's way. He watches. He catches glimpses of his former friends and family from a distance. And it hurts. Dan feels out of place, disconnected. This isn't his time, isn't his place. He's stuck on the outside looking in... and this timeline already has a Danny, one who didn't make the aggresous mistakes he did. And those mistakes... the guilt's still there but like all other emotions, it's dim and distant. That's how it's been since his death, with every emotion but rage. But still, Dan does not like being on the outside looking in. He needs to do something else with himself, find some place he can belong.

Then Dan remembers Vlad. He had gone to the older half ghost after losing everything. And... Vlad had tried to help him. Separating the then halfa at his request had been a horrible idea but Vlad had been trying. Vlad did care about him. And.... the man must be so lonely now. Lonely like Dan himself is.

It's something of a wim but Dan goes to the older halfa. And at first, it's a surprise to Vlad and then seemingly a dream come true. Here in front of him is a version of Daniel who wants to stay by his side willingly. This Dan is more powerful and experienced than his younger counterpart, though not as experienced as Vlad. The young man is willing to be taught and all he seemingly wants is companionship. Yes, it would be a dream come true except...

Dan will not tolerate any of Vlad's shit. He will not be used to hurt anyone ever again. He will not take part in any of Vlad's schemes against the Fentons. It's a high price to pay but the older man backs off. Vlad is content to not be alone and have a chance to convince Dan to work with him.

So Dan stays with Vlad. With the older man busy with work, Dan has free reign of the mansion for most of the day. In some ways, it's nice. Away from Amity Park, there's no temptation to check on his former loved ones. His longing for a life he can no longer have is diminished. Vlad's mansion provides ample distraction, in the library, the game room, the gardens. But... the days are long and often lonely and the nights... they're even worse. The large building, empty and quiet, it's too much like a time Dan wishes he could forget. The memories are stronger now. After the fiery explosion...weeks of weeping in his room. Somber diners with Vlad where he couldn't force himself to eat. Waking up from another nightmare.

Without his humanity, the grief isn't as soul wrenching as it should be. But it's ever present, the memories on repeat. And there is little to break them up. As a ghost, Dan cannot sleep. He cannot eat. He can't truly feel the sun on his face or the comforting chill of the water on the pool. All physical sensations are dimmed.

And Dan starts to realize, it's excruciating. He feels incomplete, like there's a gapping whole in his chest. The memories of his own death, seen from the outside, return. His own icy blue eyes wide with fear and pain. Red blood spattered on his face. It's horrifying. Or it should be. If Dan could muster up more than the dimmest shadow of the emotion. But he can't, because the part of him that could died 10 years ago. And... this is wrong. He is wrong.

He should have died completely as himself, as Danny Fenton. He shouldn't have watched his death from the outside by his own hands. He shouldn't be this half being that couldn't even be bothered to die properly.

Dan stews, a forgotten anger growing as he longs for something he'd once wanted rid of. His human self, his Fenton, his humanity... he wants it. He wants to be truly, completely himself again. He wants to be whole enough to fade, to move on.

But that is the problem with ghosts, especially one like him. They do not change. They do not move on. As much as Dan acts like he is older, like he is different, he is not. He's the same angry, broken teen that he was ten years ago. And he will never be anything else.

Dan rages, trashing Vlad's training room. Soon enough, his anger is spent and the young man comes back to his senses. Dan huffs in frustration and annoyance at himself. He'd rather enjoyed Vlad's training room and now the man himself will likely be cross with him. Dan does his best to put the room back in order and find something else to do.

But the pain, regret, and longing linger. At some level, Dan thinks he's being ridiculous. All his former loved ones are alive. Dan isn't alone. He has Vlad and the ability to determine his own future. This world wasn't ravaged by his hand. His mistakes have been erased. He should be free. Except...

No, his mistakes are not all erased. His own death returns to his mind over and over. He shouldn't think about, he shouldn't dwell on it but...

One day, Dan goes down to Vlad's secret lab. He knows he shouldn't. This is such a breach of Vlad's trust but... this is were it happened. The young man stares at the metal table. If he was capable of feelings cold, he would shiver. There, where he was pulled out of his body. That wall, he cornered his human half there, the boy cowering in fear. There, that control panel was spattered with his own blood.

Dan wishes he could cry but he's not human enough for that. He's not human at all. But he wishes he was.

Startled by the thought, the full ghost turns away. He shouldn't wish for things he can't have but... no. Dan's eyes flicker around the room, looking for small differences from his memories. Some of the equipment is laid out differently. There are different samples on the shelf and... that door wasn't there before.

Dan walks through and finds... metal and glass chambers in different degrees of construction. A few are filled with ectoplasm and there in the back... if Dan had a heart, it would stop. There in a clear pod with a breathing mask over his face is...Danny Fenton. No, that's not right. This isn't... this isn't his timeline. And his younger counterpart is in Amity Park so....

Dan frantically searches Vlad's computer, his notes for answers. Clones. Vlad had been trying to clone his younger half ghost counterpart. In the tube... clone 3. Fully human. Suffered mental decline from 2 weeks gestation and eventually brain death a month later. Body kept alive by machines since... the week Dan arrived.

Dan wishes he could feel shock. He wishes he could feel relief. From the data, this was the first attempt that even resembled something human. The others were by all measures animals, in no way sentient. And it appears Vlad hasn't continued working since Dan came to live with him. But still...

Dan confronts Vlad, asking about the experiments, about the clone kept on life support.

"I could not bear to pull the plug." Vlad answers, surprisingly sober. "I'd hoped his condition would improve." There is a far away look in his eyes, a longing. "I tried everything I could think of to stop the degradation but..." The older half ghost shook his head. "I'm continuing to monitor 3's status." There was a pain in Vlad voice. "I fear he won't live to see the outside of his chamber."

Vlad was in denial, Dan thinkd. This clone is gone, like his own human half. The heart still beats, the lungs still breath but...

He shock his head. "Before you approach me, I consider...if I could create a viable, ghostly clone and coax the spirit to hybridize with the body..."

The idea was ridiculous and he should be disgusted, hearing all Vlad had done, what he had planned but...

"That is all in the past now." Vlad finished sadly.

All in the past like the loss of his own human half. He shouldn't wish for things that he couldn't have but...

"I'm a viable ghost..." Dan could barely believe the words coming out his mouth. "Not a clone but... I am without a human side."

Vlad is staring at him like he has another head, something which Dan was sure he did not currently have. "Daniel...are you suggesting... what I think you are suggesting?"

Was he? It was ridiculous, impossible. He could not replace his human side by... possessing an animated corpse.

"No. I am not." Dan denied. "Forget I said anything."

Vlad gave a nod, dropping the conversation. But Dan did not forget. This idea... it was wrong. It was impossible. He couldn't be made a half ghost again. But...

The temptation. If anyone could get it to work, it would be Vlad. And if it did...the ghost floats to what had been his bedroom and laid down. If it worked, he could sleep. He could eat. He could go out in public with human. It would necessarily be a replacement for what he'd lost but...

No... this was wrong. This was basically a clone of himself whose body he wanted to steal. But... was it really? This was an empty body, no mind, no soul. It was mad science but... Dan was already the product of mad science.

And if it worked, not as an overshadowing but a hybrization... he could truly age, he could grow passed what happened. And he could feel more than the pale shadows he could now.

The next day, Dan asks Vlad for what he wants.

"Are you sure?" The man asked. "This could have unknown consequences on your body or your mind. You could even destabilize."

That gave Dan pause. This might not work. He might end up in unknown pain or even fade but... "this is worth the risk."

The pair work together, planning and experimenting. They give the body transfusions of Dan's ectoplasm. The younger ghost practices envisioning himself as a halfa again. He prepares himself.

"I will need to reduce you down to your core." Vlafd says solemnly.

Dan places his existence in Vlad's hands. After blowing off seemingly endless amounts of energy in a desolate portion of the Ghost Zone, the older halfa repeatedly shocks him with the Plasmius Maximus. Dan's body pops out of existence, leaving his core exposed.

As just a core, there is no sensation. No input. No output. It's terrifyingly like being in the thermos again. Dan knows he is being moved. Vlad is doing something to him but... there is nothing and too much at the same time.

Dan can not process. He is cradled. There is something beside him, something around him reaching out. Something is changing. He is changing. It is too much. Dan loses consciousness for the first time in ten years. It is not sleep. There is no dream. He can think one moment, separated from the world. And the next...

He is under water. Something is beeping. He feels light but heavy. Cold but warm. His center is fluttering, something straining and pounding. An emotion. Something that might be panic or fear suddenly rises in him, crashing over him as a wave. An equally panicked voice comes from in front of him. Then there's a sting in his neck. Sting? Pain? Pain, it's been so long since he felt pain. And... his neck? He has a neck again. Dan blacks out again.

The young man comes to again. There is still something beeping near his head. He's not under water now but laying on something soft. Soft and warm. Warm....Dan can feel that. His breath hitches. Breath... he feels lungs move on his chest. And...he feel heavy and warm. Something... something happened. He can't remember what...

Dan's eyes flutter open, falling on... Vlad.

The man's eyes met his, relief flashing across them. "Daniel." He sighs. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Dan crocks. Is that... is that his voice? "What...what happened?" The ghost (?) thinks he might know. "Did it work?" He whispered.

Dan's voice... his voice is high, like when he was a younger teen. It should feel strange but...

"Take a look." Vlad says, offering him a mirror.

Dan reaches forward with a shaking hand. His hand... it's not gloved, neither is it blue. It's.... he stares. It's a pale peach color like... his hands are smaller and thinner....

"Daniel." Vlad interrupts. "It's alright." He holds the mirror up and...

Dan meets blue eyes. His own blue eyes. Eyes he never thought he'd see again except on someone else. His eyes water as he reaches towards the mirror. "It worked."

His new heart is aching, a thousand emotions hitting him. Joy, happiness, relief, grief, guilt, regret. All of them are bigger, nearer, more real and soul-aching than it's been in years. He should be upset. He looks and sounds like a kid again. But... "I'm alive."

He is alive. And it is a joy. A gift. A promise. He will not waste this second chance.

The newly remade halfa is crying and...it's never felt so good.

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 15

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

15 - Glimmer ...

“Jay, this has to be perfect.”

Jay scoffed at his friend, who was attempting to paint massive letters on a blue sign. “This seems a bit extravagant Adam.” 

Adam rolled his eyes, dropping his paint brush. He had asked Jay to come over a few hours prior to help him. It was Sunday, the day before spirit week and Adam was planning on asking his girlfriend to the homecoming dance the following weekend. The plan was simple: Jay (and Kevin, who ditched because he had an extra practice) were going to help Adam make all the shit he needed while Hailey kept her away from his house. Then after school Monday, Jay and Hailey were in charge of distracting Kim until he was ready. The only problem was, Adam’s ability to paint was about as good as his handwriting and the letters on the sign were equal to chicken scratch. 

“I mean, you are already dating.” Jay continued.

“So,” Adam said, standing. “You are telling me that when you ask Hailey you won’t be holding a corny sign and a bouquet of flowers?” Jay began to speak but Adam kept talking. “Because I guarantee you, you will look like an idiot when every other girl has a cute story to tell.” 

Jay shot his friend a dirty look, “Who said I was going to ask Hailey?”

“I hate you…”Adam muttered, groaning in defeat. He was sick of watching Jay dance around his feelings, especially since he knew Hailey felt the same way. He knew that he was the one that told him it was a bad idea in the first place, but he had retracted the statement a million times since then. 

“Adam stop stressing, you know she will say yes.” Jay said, changing the subject.

Adam shrugged, “I know. That’s not the point. I just want her to feel special.”

Jay grinned, it was fun to watch his usually dickish best friend get all sentimental. “You know, sometimes you have these moments where I forget how much of a sarcastic little smartass you are.”

Adam glared at him. He then put on a fake smile and put his hand over his heart. “Really Jay? That means so much to me.” 

Jay rolled his eyes and laughed as Adam got back to work. And even though Jay had dismissed him just a few moments earlier, he had planned to ask Hailey. He was right, it needed to be special, and Jay had the perfect idea.

…

Going back to school on Monday was a bit of an adjustment for Hailey. It was exactly the same as before, Jay picked her up (she really needed to start giving him gas money) and they met their friends in the parking lot and she went to her first block as normal. Except she had had heart surgery, and everyone knew that she was the girl that got trapped in a garage with a running car. That alone made people's stares a little more intense, but she also couldn’t seem to forget about the scar running up her chest. 

It was crazy, she was wearing a t-shirt, no one could even see it. But she still felt like she had something she was hiding. It was all too familiar, she flashed back to just a year earlier when she began to hide the bruises caused by her father. There was something scary about her situation (other than the obvious facts), she moved to Chicago to escape the danger she was in, but somehow she had walked into something worse. And now she was a 16 year old with a pacemaker and a stalker, and she wasn’t a fan of either.

Hailey and Jay were walking to first block together, since they both had Criminal Justice. Hailey was still nursing the cup of coffee that Jay had brought her that morning, and she would admit that it made her morning much better. The two ways to her heart were coffee and pizza, and Jay had gotten pretty good at buying her both. 

They settled into their seats (of course right next to each other) and Hailey pulled out her textbook. She noticed the sheepish look on Jay’s face and pushed it between them, it wasn’t the first time that he had forgotten his. 

Jay smirked as he watched Hailey pull out her notebook and pencil pouch, the girl was a bit of a control freak when it came to her notes. Not that he minded, his looked like a five year old did them, so he’d be studying with hers anyway. 

That’s how they spent the whole class: Hailey listening attentively and taking notes and Jay watching her listen and take notes. By the end he couldn’t remember one sentence their teacher said. He looked down at his own blank paper and chuckled, he hadn’t realized how out of touch he had really been. 

“Mr. Halstead, did you find something more important to do than paying attention in my class?” Their teacher, Mr. Chavez asked as he stared him down. 

Jay was about to respond with a “yes” but Hailey beat him to it, “He has a headache sir, I told him he could copy my notes later.” She explained. 

“That’s very kind of you Ms. Upton. Great work as always.” He looked to Jay, his smile faltering. “See to it that you get those notes, don’t throw away Ms. Upton’s kindness.” 

Jay nodded his head, stifling a laugh as he walked away. He gathered his things, preparing for the bell to ring and Hailey smirked beside him. “The next time you want to stare at me for an hour and a half, pick a class you aren’t close to failing.” 

As soon as she finished her sentence, the bell rang and Hailey jumped up. “Hey! I’m not failing.” He called after her, but she just threw a grin over her shoulder at him and exited the room. Jay shook his head and grabbed his backpack, pulling the strap over his shoulder. That girl was going to be the death of him. 

He made his way to his next class, Advanced Physics, which he unfortunately didn’t have with Hailey. He felt a little pathetic if he was being honest, but his happiness at the moment completely revolved around her. When she was around, the air felt a little lighter and he could breathe easier. 

It was crazy to think that something so good came out of all of the shit they were dealing with, but it did. Hailey Anne Upton was his best friend, what more could he ask for?

…

Hailey sat in Psychology next to Severide, keeping her eyes locked on Kevin who turned around every five seconds to check on her. It was hard and she spent the whole class a little on edge, but they couldn’t risk Severide knowing that they were onto him in any way. Which meant Hailey had to spend 90 minutes every other day pretending to be his friend. 

“How are you doing?” He asked, grabbing her attention. 

Hailey looked back at him, startled. “I’m good, thanks.”

Severide nodded, glancing back down at her paper. “Uh, do you have number seven?” 

“Yeah, it’s cognitive.” She said, looking at her own.

“Thanks.”

Hailey grimaced at the awkwardness of their conversation. “No problem.”  She needed to get out of there. She raised her hand, “Can I use the restroom?” Her teacher nodded and she jumped up and grabbed the hall pass before high tailing it out of the room. 

She let out a breath as she entered the bathroom, taking in her disheveled appearance. She hated how riled up Severide made her, but everytime she looked in the mirror she pictured the bruises that once covered her neck. 

A toilet flushed behind her and she quickly got herself together. She gleaned in the mirror to see Nadia exit the stall, they made eye contact and quickly looked away. Hailey’s second uncomfortable interaction of the day. “Hailey right?” Nadia asked. 

“Yeah.” Hailey said, she patted her legs nervously and gave her a small smile. “We haven’t officially met.”

Nadia gave her a cautious smile, “No we haven’t, but I don’t doubt you know everything there is to know about me.” Her tone turned darker at the end, her facade giving out. 

“I’m not one to judge.” Hailey said, hoping to give her some solace.

“I’m not either.” Nadia turned towards the door, “Be careful with Jay, he’s not all he’s cracked up to be.” 

“We’re just-” The door slammed shut, leaving Hailey alone to her thoughts, “Friends…” Not that she would be opposed to something more, but she wasn’t sure that was a secret. She ignored Nadia’s jab at Jay, if Hailey was her she would have said the exact same thing. Nadia didn’t know that Jay only ruined her because his mom’s life was at risk.

She grabbed the hall pass off the sink and made her way back to class, against her will. She was ready for the day to be over and she was barely halfway through. 

…

After school, Hailey stood at her locker waiting for Jay, something else that had become normal. She was scrolling through instagram, not paying attention to anything going on around her. She was trying to keep her mind off the amount of AP Chem homework she had,but the tactic was proving to be unsuccessful.

“Hey,” a voice said, pulling her out of her trance. She looked up to find Kelly Severide standing over her, and she practically jumped out of her skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Hailey laughed nervously, removing herself from between him and the locker. “You’re good, what’s up?”

“Uh, nothing really I was just wondering if maybe you would want to go to homecoming with me?” He asked and Hailey stared at him blankly.

She figured she was going to be asked, but not like that and certainly not by him. She stood there in silence, trying to figure out what to say. She was 100% sure that she had watched this movie and the probability of her ending up dead at the end of it was high. Who else could say that the guy who choked them in the middle of their living room at one in the morning was also their homecoming date? Not many, probably because everyone who could check yes for that box was either murdered or missing. 

She was about to respond when she felt a presence behind her. “Sorry man, she can’t go with you.”

Hailey sighed, Jay.

Severide gave Jay a bored look, sighing. “Why’s that?” Hailey looked up at him as if to ask: Yeah Jay, why not?

Jay smirked, glancing down at Hailey and the to Severide, “Because she’s going with me.”

...

@lissethsrojas @fuckyeahkillianemma @puckluck28 @chilly7188 @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman @upsteadheart @ruzek-halstead

[since0202]

Chapter 13: Relief

The next morning when Grace woke up, Bella wasn’t in her bed. She looked around groggy and confused and checked her phone. Nothing. She was the least popular Spirit Bird ever. 

She threw her body back onto her pillows and let out a huge breath rubbing her tired eyes and face. With a groan loud enough to echo around her room, she tugged herself from bed and went to take a shower. Her hair was in tangled knots after dunking it in sink water to cool herself off, so Grace took her time letting the hot water run over her, combing her thick, black hair out gently in the shower. She washed her face and once out the shower, she brushed her teeth and put on face lotion. She felt semi-human again all things considered. 

Grace was methodical in her bedroom, choosing an outfit carefully and donning black skinny jeans, a black tank top with spaghetti straps, and a bright white cropped hoodie that just showed the underside of her chest. She wrapped Ti’Hal’s stone necklace around her neck three times so that the clung to her neck like a choker with the stone dangling off and refitted the bracelet Jake gave her to her wrist. She’d been leaving it behind in case she was called to the rez to help and didn’t want to lose it, but now it felt necessary to have on. 

Grace tousled her loose thick waves as she carefully blow dried them and when she was satisfied, she gently smoothed them so they were lustrous and shiny. When she looked at herself in the mirror she smiled--what she was doing, Grace wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt nice to look this way again and not the disheveled mess she’d been for the past month and a half. As she walked to the bedroom door, her eyes caught the warm plum lip gloss sitting on her desk. She quickly pulled some color on and walked down the stairs to pull on her boots. 

“Charlie?” she called out. “Bella?” As she tied up her laces, she glanced on the single pane window to see the truck missing. Charlie rounded the corner. 

“Bells isn’t here. She took off to the rez for something, she should be back soon.” He paused. “You look nice. Off to see Jake?” he gave her a soft smile. Grace internally flinched and strode across the small foyer to grab her heavy raincoat from the closet. 

“Ah, no.” she gave a hard laugh. “Just going to run a few errands and swing by to see Billy and Ti’Hal, probably.” She nodded. 

“Oh well, I could give you a ride. Let me grab my keys.” Grace nodded appreciatively and then bounded out to Charlie’s cruiser. 

Bella was at the rez? What for? 

When they reached Billy’s house, Charlie came inside with her to check in on him. Unsurprised, Jake was not home. But Bella’s truck wasn’t there either. She asked Billy if Bella had been by to which he nodded. Then discreetly, he motioned to the window. 

Grace looked out and saw that there had clearly been a fight, between who she wasn’t sure, but the broken trees and debris scattered everywhere indicated it was big. 

“I think they all headed over to Emily’s for some lunch.” Billy replied casually. 

“Oh, did you want me to take you there?” Charlie asked. Grace smiled and shook her head. 

“Oh no, I can get there easy! I’ll catch a ride back with Bells. Thanks Charlie!” Grace replied scooting out the door and heading into the trees to recast. 

On the front porch of Emily’s, she heard hoots and hollers within. Happy. She thought, relieved.

As she climbed the steps and crossed the threshold her eyes were automatically drawn to Jacob’s. He was leaning against the counter in the kitchen with a  black shirt and jeans on. Paul was rotating his shoulder and jabbing Embry who kept making quips about his ineptitude to dodge a phase on the fly. 

Grace walked in and pushed both her hands on Paul’s back making him lurch forward slightly against the table “I should have known it was you who started a fight.” 

“Ow! Injured here!” he cried back slapping playfully at her hand. “Oh wow, you look nice.” he said smiling up at her. Grace blushed furiously and ran a hand through her hair. 

“Oh, I do?” She responded embarrassed. 

“You do.” Jacob replied from his space leaning on the counter. Her gaze darted to his and held it there. She could still feel the warmth of blush in her face but instead of embarrassment, she swelled with a feeling that made her toes tingle. 

“Thanks.” She said, not letting her eyes drop from Jacob’s. He gave her a secretive smile and then looked over to the staircase where Bella was sitting and gave her a nod to follow him. Grace hadn’t realized Bella was there until this moment and she grounded herself immediately by placing a tentative hand on Paul’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” Grace murmured as Bella walked past. Bella looked unsurprised but still a little startled to see Grace standing there. 

“Hey.” Bella said as she walked by her and out the front door. Jacob followed and they were off down the beach together. 

Grace let out a long breath that she had been holding and then sank into the kitchen chair next to Paul. She shook her head laughing and said, 

“So what did you do?” 

“Me? I was just keeping the pecking order straight.” Paul retorted. 

“Wait, isn’t that my job?” Grace said. 

“I thought that was Sam’s job.” Embry said as he took a bite of a large muffin on the table. 

“No, that’s Emily’s job.” Jared countered. Sam laughed at this and kissed Emily’s cheek. 

“So what was all that about then?” Grace motioned to the door where Jake and Bella had left through. 

“Jacob found a way around Sam’s gag order,” Quil relayed. “Bella figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Grace said alarmed. 

“About us.” Paul stated. “So you can see why I was pissed.” 

“Actually, I don’t, but also what the hell. How did he do that?” Grace queried the room. They all shrugged their shoulders and Sam simply said: 

“She just said she figured it out.” 

Good on Bells, Grace thought to herself. Sam gave Grace a measured look. “What?” she said when she noticed him staring. He shook his head and turned back to Emily. Weird. 

Grace’s gaze carried out the open front door toward the beach. The pulling sensation was back again. Paul nudged her from his seat next to her. 

“Hey,” to this she looked at him and gave him a smile. He reached out and grabbed her hand that was resting in her lap and she let him. It felt good to be so warm. 

When Bella and Jake returned from their walk, the pack was already deep into dinner, crushed around the table. Grace was throwing her head back and laughing as Quil tried to imitate a member of the tribe who had a tendency to give unsolicited advice to passersby. Bella squeezed in next to Grace and Jake joined the head of the table next to Sam and Jared before digging in himself. Bella nudged her shoulder into Grace and gave her a reserved smile. Grace leaned her head into Bella’s and touched her forehead to hers. To this, Bella left out an elated laugh, one mixed with relief and desperation to cling to the happiness filling this home. 

It was late by the time they left, having been subjected to watching the pack play an impromptu version of soccer/rugby/volleyball where the rules changed as the ball switched hands. On their way home, Bella looked over at her tentatively. 

“So do you turn into a wolf too?” Bella raised an eyebrow. Grace looked at her confused. 

“Jake didn’t tell you?” Bella shook her head at this. Interesting, Grace thought. How did Jake share the secret without including Grace. For a moment she felt a pang of insecurity that it was because he didn’t see her as a real member of the pack but then realized it was more likely that he didn’t want to share that with Bella if Grace didn’t. Grace let a smile creep across her face before saying. 

“Nah, I’m the Spirit Bird.” She looked over to see Bella’s reaction. She cocked her head to one side and opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. “Pretty cool huh?” 

“Aaah, yah.” 

“You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” Bella bust out laughing and Grace joined in. 

“No, no I don’t.” 

The pulled into their driveway and still pealed with laughter as they stumbled out of the truck together. They linked arms and heard a rustling sound off in the forest that made Bella jump. To this, Grace clamped a hand over her mouth and tried to repress another burst of laughter. 

“Bells, relax. It’s Paul and Jacob.” Grace pointed to where two glowing eyes were just barely visible in the dark trees. Bella held a hand over her chest and took a deep breath before continuing toward the front door with Grace. 

“Jeez, that scared me. Do that do that alot?” 

“Protection duty.” Grace shrugged. She only knew because she heard Jacob communicate to her just now. 

“Wait, how can you tell who it is?” Bella looked at her confused. 

“Spirit bird, remember? I’m psychically linked with them when their in wolf form. Paul says,” she paused and closed her eyes tightly trying to tune into Paul. It took more effort to pick him up. “Nice butt.” Grace’s eyes shot open. “WHAT!? PAUL!” 

“Oh my god,” Bella rolled her eyes and let out a guffaw. Grace could clearly hear an angry snapping sound coming from the tree line, likely Jacob in response. 

“Boys.” Grace groaned as they piled through the front door and up the stairs to their room. Once they were changed, careful to close the blinds to deter Paul “Nice Butt” Lahote from staring in, Grace laid on Bella’s bed and told her about being the Spirit Bird. Bella listened intently and stopped her when she had a question about her abilities. Grace was surprised at how not totally freaked out she was by all of this. 

Grace asked Bella how she had found out about the wolves with Sam’s alpha order in place and Bella explained about how Jacob told her about the legends last year walking on the beach. Grace swallowed hard at the mention of the cold ones, not sure if Bella had grasped the entirety of the legends. She had pieced it together when she had had a dream about Sam’s wolf form showing up in the woods to get her the night of the incident and again when she had went hiking in the woods. By the end of Bella’s explanation, Grace had a strange feeling that Bella was holding something back but didn’t press her. She was just glad to not have to sneak around anymore. She loved Bella and had missed sharing things with her. 

They fell asleep in Bella’s bed together, talking late into the night. Grace was glad for the company and she felt closer to Bella than she had been in months. 

They were woken up the next day by Charlie opening their bedroom door and shaking Grace’s shoulder. 

“Girls! Wake up, you’re gonna be late!” Grace opened her eyes, groggy, and Bella stirred a little. 

“Okay,” Grace said in the middle of a yawn. Charlie left their room and they heard his cruiser shortly after. 

“Ditch?” Bella mumbled. Grace nodded and gave a tired “mmmmhhmm” before rolling over and falling back asleep. 

They woke up again much later in the morning and Grace checked her phone. Two missed calls from Sam early this morning, followed shortly by a text from Jake: 

SMS Text—7:55 am: Jake 

Told Sam you were still sleeping. He’s freaking out about you telling Bella about being the Spirit Bird. 

Going home to sleep. Text me when you wake up. 

Grace held a phone to her head and gave a dramatic sigh. 

“What is it?” Bella asked as she pulled on her jeans. 

“Sam’s being fussy about me cluing you into the Spirit Bird thing.” 

“Why?” 

“You got me.” It wasn’t a direct order was it? If it was, she wouldn’t have been able to break it. She pressed Sam’s number in her phone and closed her eyes as it rang. 

“Sam? Yeah.” She could already hear it in his voice. Disappointed, livid wolf dad tone. Great. When she hung up, she turned to Bella. 

“So I have to go to the rez for a bit. You should stay here because–” Grace cut herself off, not sure how to conclude since she didn’t think Bella knew about the redhead vampire. 

“Yeah, of course, go. I’m going to catch up on some homework.” Bella responded waving her away. Grace raised an eyebrow at her nonchalance. That was easy. She pulled on a green flannel an orange t-shirt and some jeans. She threw her hair up in a messy bun and ran toward the truck. When she looked up at their bedroom window, she saw Bella watching her go expectantly. 

She didn’t give it a second thought though as she turned out of the driveway and pushed on toward the rez. Sam had said to hurry, he’d deal with her later, bla bla bla, but that the redhead was back and they were running rounds. Charlie was in the woods with some hunting buddies trying to find the animal that had been killing all of the hikers when it fact it was the redhead. They’re rounds would be more complicated with the hunting party spread out in the forest and Sam wanted her to run recon with Jake to better scout their path. 

When she pulled into Sam’s driveway, he was waiting arms crossed on the porch. Grace sank into the drivers seat away from his glowering stare. When she finally hopped out she held her hands up in surrender. 

“I know, I know. Irresponsible, ditching class, wow, Grace what would your father think?” Grace recounted. She was already privy to their inner workings so she had heard what they thought often about Grace’s father. At first it had been difficult to hear even his name, but soon it became a comfort. 

“Just get moving. Jake’s already on the northwest side.” Sam said as he backed away from the porch and headed east. 

Here we go, Grace thought as she recast, holding onto Jake’s figure in her mind and letting that familiar pull guide her to him. 

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 32

Life as a human guinea pig is a strange thing. First of all, there's the questions. The same questions over and over, to the point where the machines and medical doodads and the noise that became almost normal for me, but the questions became the irritant of the day.

"How are you feeling today, Dr. Taylor?" As I'd squint into the bright light being forced into my marrow it seemed. A muttered reply from me, and honestly the same answer in varying degrees of annoyance or acceptance depending upon the day and how many times I'd been asked it so far. "Uh huh, and are you feeling warm? Is there tenderness in your abdomen?" While they poked and prodded, testing skin, muscle, bone and eventually blood.

Did you know the average human adult has around 1.2-1.5 gallons of blood which equals roughly 10 units? I know this because I wanted to be certain that I'd have enough after all the blood testing. Research would either be the way I kept sane or what finally pushed me over the ledge into complete madness, mark my words.

Billy visited, as often as he could, and every single time he'd greet the head poker in residence with his own version of the repeated question game. "How is she? What's the bloody progress?" At which I would inevitably check the arm that seemed to be their favorite vessel for bloodletting. "How much longer?" And then he'd meet my gaze and focus his attention on ME, rather than on my medical condition.

Yes, I was calling it a condition. If I let the reality of my situation fully grip me, then I'd scream. And I had moments of it, trust me.

How would you feel if every single time the man you loved walked in and spoke about your person as though you were a petri dish experiment before reminding himself, through sheer force of finally SEEING you, that you were in fact the woman he loved?

Now take that feeling you just got from that scenario and add the annoyingly taunting voice of the caped asshole who caused this whole fucking irritating bullshit situation reminding you that you fell in love with a man for whom hatred of supes is as natural as inhaling. Feeling just a hint of discomfort? Just add the sound of beeping, buzzing, and dripping to remind yourself of the fact that this was all happening while I was being held hostage as a "let's see what happens if we try this mixture to counteract the demon juice flowing through her veins" was tried over and over.

Strained. My nerves, body, and brain felt strained. Even after the feeding tube was gone and Billy could kiss me. Even after I was given the go ahead to work from my hospital bed. Frayed would be a kind way to say how absolutely on edge I felt.

And the worse part? I felt like I was missing something. Something important. Something paramount. Just out of reach and as though, even surrounded by my laptop and notes, something that was keeping me out of an important loop.

The longer that I stayed in the 'undisclosed medical' location, the more that I wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Literally anywhere. I started to yearn for Bolivia and the Black Ops team that had gotten caught up in the web of a rogue agent and 'died' implicated in a massive fuck up of epic proportions.

When a rational woman who knows how the inner workings of other people's brains and behavior follow reliable patterns starts thinking fondly of the heat of a tropical place where she had to wade through more red tape than most people would assume humanly possible to unravel the truth, all while hearing the type of rumors about the men she was trying to clear and resurrect from faked death, then shit has hit epic levels of horrible. It did remind me to contact that team to see how their return to their former lives had worked out, and wonder if their leader had gotten over his own tragic ability to attract murderous women.

I wanted to go further than the small courtyard deemed safe enough for me to explore, and near enough to make them taking me off the dialysis machine after another fun round of 'clean her blood again' reasonable. I wanted to sleep in my own bed and watch television at my discretion without interruptions for another round of the questions and poking I wanted, in short, to be back to normal already.

I might have been empathizing with Billy's urge for the Vought wankers (his word, I swear) to find the magic solution so life could go back to the routine we both wanted a return to. Or I might have been trying to only see the positive outcome, since there was a creeping feeling that maybe, just maybe there wasn't an easy fix or a fix at all.

A month passed, with my cabin fever slowly increasing by the day, and with it my internal and external temperatures. Oh yeah, that's right, I might have forgotten to mention that while the steaming was at bay, now it was just my actual body temperature that would fluctuate and freak every single fucking person all the way out. When Billy said I nearly went "nuclear" he hadn't been joking, apparently I could have fucking exploded like a goddamn human time bomb and I didn't want to consider just how fucking messy that would have been for the janitorial staff.

Finally, maybe because I wanted some type of control about the questioning, I started asking some probing ones of my own. And what I found, when they would meet my eyes and answer me as fully as I wanted, was that that creeping feeling was growing more likely.

The issue wasn't simply that they didn't know which variation of Compound V that Homelander had me infected with, it was that as they broke down the components and addressed each one, my body didn't simply fight their attempts, it attacked itself. The asshole, it would appear, had basically chosen the self destruct version, and it was trickier than any puzzle these 'real doctors' had ever come across. I was truly feeling the confidence of having a toddler performing my brain surgery with this knowledge.

Oh and that wasn't all, even IF they figured out how to 'neutralize' the formula inside of my bloodstrain, then there was a probability that I could pass it on to any future children. Isn't that some kind of amazingly poetic bullshit to hear after you chose to evict a foreign invader from your uterus? That the one stabilizing agent I'd had scraped and dumped was the ONLY one that I would ever get to actually be allowed to experience. Remind me to send Homelander a HUGE fucking thank you card, would you?

Early into my first true consciousness, before I found out just how fucked the pompous dick had made my entire existence, Billy had told me that my parents had visited while I was knocked out. Apparently near death experiences make even the weirdest of families reunite. And mine was no different.

Mom became a regular visitor and I was shocked by how much I started looking forward to her visits. She was strangely comforting, and tried to keep my spirits up, she even made peace with Billy. Dad was less frequent in his contact, but Mom told me it was difficult for him to see me look like a shell of myself.

And I did. I looked like a ghost that's haunting what was left of my body. The feeding tube had kept me nourished, but my muscle mass had suffered from the amount of time I was forced to spend in bed. I was constantly tired, my work hours going from nine to six to an hour here, a few minutes there, and the amount of napping I did would make most house cats jealous. The gowns that I wore hung from my frame, my appetite was scarce and I felt like this was the LONGEST goodbye letter ever to be written.

As the days passed, one merging into the next without me taking stock of how much I missed, how much that puzzle of what I was missing had bothered me early on, the negative ideas started creeping in. Homelander's voice grew louder. His smug question about Billy and me and what my condition would mean for the two of us in the end kept pushing through my attempts to distract myself.

I was sitting in the soft chair they'd brought in for me by the window, staring out and thinking of my options when Billy came in for his visit. I heard him, in the background noise of beeps and whirls, ask his questions. I felt him when he was nearer to me, but my eyes stayed on the 'view'.

He started to greet me, but my mouth opened and the question came out without me thinking about it. "How will you do it?" I watched a leaf, one missed by the obsessive groundskeepers, dance in a breeze I wish I could feel. He was confused, his reflection showed that much. "When you kill me, how will you do it?"

"Veronica," I could hear the pain in his voice, the fear hiding behind it. "I wouldn't-"

"Frenchie then?" I tilted my head considering. "MM? Hughie barely managed to make the choice with-" I stopped and took a breath. "Kimiko?" I sighed and pulled my legs up onto the chair, hugging my knees. "I hear she makes quite a mess of her prey." My voice wasn't loud and it didn't sound anything more than resigned, and I was a little curious. "If you can get Starlight to do it, you could make it seem like self defense? Or," I sighed, and bit my lip, "it would finally give you a reason to take her out too."

"Ronnie, love, that's not gonna-" I turned and he flinched when he saw that I was serious and not the least bit upset. "Ronnie?"

"Billy Butcher, I wrote the book on you." My smile felt wrong to me, but right at the same time. "I know you inside and out, or at least I think I do." I had the research on the flash drive that was hooked into my laptop on the bed. "You are single minded in your focus and your focus has been on eliminating supes from the world for a very long time." I turned back to the window, staring past the view and at the reflection of the room behind me. "It was one of the things I found the most attractive about you, I think. That you could see a goal and pound away until you master it." He sat in the chair close to me, but at a distance far enough that he'd have to work to touch me. "So, how will I die, Billy?"

"You'll die safe and sound, of old age in our bed, Veronica." I smiled sadly at this pipe dream of a fairy tale he wanted so badly to believe. "When you're sick of me, remember?" I could hear how badly he wanted it to be true, how much he wanted to hold me and it to all be a terrible dream.

"Never took you for a nursery rhyme and fairy stories fan," my eyes were still on the window. "This isn't going away, Billy, what he put in me isn't going away. And you will start to look at me like you look at him." My eyes found his, and face to face I wanted to force him to see it. "You will. And then, just like you, Frenchie, and Hughie brainstormed about Translucent and the best way to end him, you'll start to consider my pressure points." I gave a harsh, humorless chuckle. "And the funniest part is that Homelander built mine in for you, all you have to do is take me off the blood cleanse for a day and my own body will do it for you." His eyes tightened at the reminder of how many close calls I'd had. "Oops, I guess I just planned it for you."

"Please don't." He was begging me to let him pretend it wasn't the truth, that he wouldn't lose me too, and because of the same supe as Becca's cause of death. "Don't do this."

I smiled sadly, knowing he knew, even without me telling him, what was going to happen next.

[frickfracksnatchisback]

Never Coming Back (AHiT Short Story)

So uh, to quickly explain this before you all hate me for the upcoming sadness and angst, I had this thought like late last night and I decided to write it out. (Also to give a bit of context, this is set around the time when Snatcher and Moonjumper were fighting for Subcon, before Moon become reformed) Not gonna lie, the idea made me cry. So...hope you enjoy it!

(WARNING! This fic deals with the subject of death, mourning, and a slight mention of blood near the end. You have been warned.)

***

Subcon Forest had become...much quieter, in these past couple days. Barely anyone was seen roaming around the forest, even all of the ghost inhabitants. It had been like this for awhile now, ever since “that day”. It seemed like no one, not a single soul, would dare to make a noise. In fear of angering their king, or worse. So it was especially quiet up near the Snatcher’s home, where the ghost king had been staying for over more than a week now. It was silent, it was cold, it was dark.

It was driving him mad.

He wasn’t even reading, nor was he making any contracts. He was just sitting there, his head sunken low and his hands clamped together. He didn’t say a word, and let the dust around him collect in his lonely home. He even restrained himself from fidgeting, as a nervous habit, which he had surprisingly gotten better at as time went on. His traps hadn’t gone off for days upon days straight. Or, if they had, he certainly didn’t care enough to check. He was too busy lost in his own thoughts to even care about going hungry anytime soon. And the hunger wasn’t even affecting him anymore, as he had lost all ability to notice or even care about his well-being. Which left him alone, in his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him sane.

It was quiet, he noticed. Too quiet. And there was something missing in his forest home. Something small, which he dare not name. Even in the comfort of his own home, he would not utter a single word. He had been staying like this for what felt like forever now, so surely he could keep it up. (At least, that’s what he figured to himself) And yet...his mind wandered further more. He recalled old memories, things of the past that he hated to be reminded of. But instead of these thoughts being about his past, the times before he died, they were of something...different.

Snatcher, for the first time since his choice to never move again, reluctantly shifted in his chair. He leaned back and rested his arms onto the sides of his armchair. It made a small squeaking noise, which was the first noise he had heard in a long time. But he didn’t pay much mind to it, as he was too disoriented to even noticed. But there was something about his posture that seemed off. Like he had left enough room for someone to sit up there with him. Perhaps, a small chi-

Snatcher’s grip on the chair arms tightened, as his claws dug into the outside fabric.

He started to shiver, his body having slight tremors as he remembered something. A memory, which was broken into pieces. He didn’t dare to recall all of it, as fear took over him. But...small details still managed to fill his mind, without his consent. And he quickly closed his eyes, the sudden vision invading his thoughts…

Snatcher was sitting in his home, like he had been. But there was something...different about it. Something all too familiar, yet comforting. And there was strange feeling of warmth, something that he had desperately missed in his home. A small being, which looked like colorful blur of light purple and yellow, appeared in front of him, immediately jumping up onto his chair. It sat in his lap, not asking whether it could be seated or not. And he chastised the small being for this, as he said he wanted to be left alone without him even opening his mouth. But it simply started laughing at him, letting out a childish giggle. The noise filled the home, making it seem...warmer, in a way. And before he could stop it, the little being leaned into him.

And gave him a hug-

Snatcher snapped out of it, shaking in his chair still. He let out a short gasp, his breathing becoming shaky soon after. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn, and blinked rapidly to stop the sensation. He wasn’t going to cry. Never, under any circumstances, was he going to shed a tear over such a memory. An unwanted, stupid, foolish memory that came out of nowhere when he least expected it, was not going to earn any sympathy from him.

But...it did leave him with a feeling of unrest. Like he should be doing something, but wasn’t. And that “something” had been eating away at him ever since he hid away in his home. It was something he had wanted to avoid so badly, both physically and mentally, but always kept coming back to it. He felt like if he didn’t give in soon, the feeling would never leave him. And he would just be stuck here, letting his forest go practically unattended to. What was he to do then? What was left for him to do then? Wait in silence and just wave it off? Wait until months, possibly years, passed by?

Wait until that traitor showed his face again?

………

No...he had waited long enough.

Finally, with a sudden burst of emotional strength, Snatcher pushed himself from out of the armchair. Dust clouds formed, and cobwebs clung onto his back. But he didn’t bother to dust them off, as he was already leaving his home for good. He came out of the entrance, and it was just as quiet outside as it was in his home. No Dwellers, minions, or anyone else visible was waiting close or near to his home. He floated further away from his home, and into the vacant trees. He still kept silent to himself all the way, his hands behind his back, not saying a word as he floated solemnly on the path. As far as he knew, no one was watching him. And he preferred it that way, considering where he was headed.

Unknown to him though, someone was watching him. A strange figure, hidden in the darkness, watched him carefully as he went down the path. They observed him as they silently sneaked through the trees, with their piercing red eyes that almost lit up in the shadows. But they wouldn’t make their presence known. And Snatcher would never even know that they were following him. It was odd timing, really, as the strange figure had already been planning to visit that place. And that was before they even knew that Snatcher was headed in the same direction. If anything, they would have to wait their turn. But they didn’t mind.

After all, it was a perfect coincidence that they were both headed to the graveyard.

After time had passed going along the trail, and he went even deeper into the forest, Snatcher finally came up to the graveyard gates. He froze on the spot, staring intently at the rusted gates that were extremely old with age. There was nothing stopping him from going in, as the gates weren’t locked but instead wide open. Well...nothing except himself, as that lingering fear returned once more. But soon, after taking a deep breath, he forced himself to go further.

Into the place he had dreaded to visit again.

This graveyard wasn’t like any of the others scattered around Subcon. Those just homed clusters of the unidentified people buried there, which were most likely made up of Snatcher’s previous victims. But this graveyard was different, not just because had a gate closed around it. This much was apparent, as Snatcher floated past the other lonely tombstones. The people buried here were different. They were people that had been special to him in a past life. The royal family, a few loyal servants, some of his old friends and acquaintances, even some of the villagers that never made it out after her reign of terror. But none of them where who he was visiting today.

He paused as he reached the edge of the yard, where a single oddly-shaped tombstone was left to stand alone. It stood out from the crowd, as the marble slab was newer and didn’t show any signs of decay yet. The soil wasn’t fresh, but the earth between the head and foot of the tombstone certainly wasn’t flat. And a small patch of glowing flowers had been rooted into the soil near the head, so they would never wilt and grow strong. It was painfully obvious that this grave had been dug recently.

And Snatcher could remember every detail of it, as he had ordered the burial himself.

All of his subjects had gathered there on that day. The day before he had become a recluse, and the last day he had been seen around his forest. He could still vividly picture the whole affair, as he had observed the entire thing. Even the little details. His minions had cried as they worked together to dig out the hole. The Fire Spirits quietly lit the candles in remembrance, which had been removed long since then. The Dwellers had shed glowing tears and paid their respects in their collective muteness. Even the spiders, who had been thought to be hostile, helped to lower the tiny coffin into the ground. Snatcher was the one who planted the flowers, as it was all he could think to do.

Snatcher stared at the grave in silence, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“Hey, kiddo.”

The nickname stung him, like a knife being thrust into his chest. But he quickly shook it off. It was good to get the name out of the way first, as that was the hardest part. Yet...it made it harder for him to go further. Eventually, after waiting for a response that would never come, he spoke again.

“Have...have you been doing alright, kid?” Snatcher nearly choked on the words, as the memories from before were almost brought back. But he managed to take a big gulp, and continue with his conversation. “I’m only saying that because, y’know, it’s...what you ask me all the time.” he let out the weakest of chuckles, which sounded more like a dry wheeze than anything else. “I mean it’s not like I care about you or anything. I’ve still got a reputation and all that.” he tried joking again, almost cracking a smile, before realizing it hurt too much. His smile fell, as he went back to staring at the small, top hat-shaped grave.

“I waited for you to come back.” Snatcher said, as if the grave had betrayed him. “I waited for you to send me a sign, to finally manifest as a spirit, to come back and say it was all a huge prank. But you never did...” he bit his lip, not wanting to go any further. But he couldn’t stop himself. “I see how it is, kid. I get it. You wanted me to come visit you for once. Still a tough negotiator as ever, huh?” he almost felt like laughing, but the silence that followed after was too much to bear. It almost pushed him over the edge.

“Listen, while I’m here, I just wanted to say...” he paused, dreading the words that would come next. “I’m sorry. For once.” he said it slowly, instead of fast like he had wanted to. “And I know I’m not the most honest guy around. But trust me this time, alright? No catches or clauses, and I mean that, kiddo.” he defended himself, though the grave said nothing in return. He paused for a moment, holding his breath, as he brought out his hand-

And placed it on top of the tombstone.

Snatcher rubbed his hands back and forth on the surface, expecting there to be hair. Simple, brown hair, that he loved to ruffle in a teasing manner. But all he could feel was stone. The cold touch was unforgiving, as he felt his hand beginning to clench up. But he didn’t remove his hand from the tombstone, and instead used the other to snap his fingers. In a puff of purple smoke, a familiar light purple top hat, with a yellow ribbon, popped out of thin air. He caught it with his free hand, holding onto it tightly as it was tiny compared to his hand. But after a few moments of holding it in his hands, he plastered on a smile and held it out for the grave to “see” it.

“See? I even brought you an apology gift. Although...I guess it’s not a ‘gift’ if you stole it to begin with.” Snatcher pondered to himself, before moving on. He then leaned down, and gently placed the hat in front of the grave, next to the flowers planted there. He stared what he had done, feeling like it just wasn’t enough. He still felt empty inside, as something kept nagging at him.

He continued his apology, as tears began to well in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, kid. I...I didn’t mean any of it.” he could feel his voice beginning to break, but he went on. “I didn’t mean to call you a brat. I didn’t mean it when I told you to get lost. I didn’t mean-” he stopped for a moment, the words caught in his throat. “-I didn’t mean...for you to die...” he could feel his grip beginning to falter, as he shut his eyes tight and finally let his tears fall.

And with his tears, he collapsed onto the ground.

“...why, kid? Whywhywhydidyouhavetoleaveme-” Snatcher dug his claws into the dirt, weeping on his hands and “knees”. His whole body shivered, and his vision became cloudy with tears. “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?!” he began shouting at it, hatred beginning to grow in his voice. But it wasn’t hatred for the grave itself. It wasn’t even hatred towards the murderer that caused all of this.

It was hatred towards himself.

He could have stopped it from happening, if he had tried hard enough. He could have ended the fight he and Moonjumper were having, before it ever escalated. He could have noticed the kid come running closer, if he had been paying attention. But he didn’t. He just didn’t. Instead, he had watched as it all happened. He watched as the kid tried to intervene, jumping in the way of one of Moonjumper’s attacks towards him. And he watched as Moonjumper’s sword slid straight through the child, plunging into her heart and sticking out of her fragile body. He watched as Moonjumper dropped his sword in surprise, letting her plummet to the ground.

And after standing there, just watching, he had let out a loud scream and dove for the kid. But it had been too late, as he noticed a giant red stain quickly spreading on her favorite coat. He had brought her into his arms, cradling her as her eyes became more and more grey. All he could do was panic as he held her, her life quickly fading before his eyes. But before her final breath, she had used all of her strength to rest a tiny hand upon his fluffy mane, and speak her last words.

“I’m sorry...for everything...”

“WHAT WERE YOU SORRY FOR?!” Snatcher screamed, as he could hear her words in his memory. “I’M THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE SORRY! I’M THE ONE WHO DID THIS! IT WAS ALL-” his words were cut off as he, started coughing profusely. He felt like he was choking as his voice became irritated from all his screaming. And it didn’t take much, as he hadn’t talked in a long while. His tears were falling at a rapid rate, as he had to take a couple breaths before speaking again.

“It was a-all...my f-fault…” Snatcher spoke in a raspy voice, as he bumped his head against the tombstone. He stayed there as his glowing tears rained onto the grave’s flowers, coating the petals in his tears. He then looked up, removing his head, as slowly lifted his hand up. He dragged a single claw against the engraving on the tombstone, not reading the words but tracing over them. And eventually, after drying his pointless tears, Snatcher lifted himself up to leave.

“See ya soon, kiddo.” he spoke barely above a whisper, feeling like he was done here. “I’ll keep waiting for you to come visit me.” he promised, as he turned his back to the grave. She had to come back at some point. She just had to. Either as a ghost, or if this was all an elaborate dream. She would come back eventually. Snatcher floated back toward the exit, going past the other graves and leaving his BFF behind him. The BFF that would never come back, and the cycle would eventually repeat itself.

Once Snatcher was gone, Moonjumper revealed himself from the shadows.

He moved to the spot where Snatcher had been, standing at the head of the grave. He had his hands behind his back, hiding something. He stood there for a moment, giving the grave a sad look. He even use a freed hand to pat the top of the stone, as Snatcher had done before. But after a few moments of silence, and looking around to make sure he was truly alone, he spoke to the grave.

“How...curious.” Moonjumper mused, though he didn’t smile. “And yet, what a tragic fate indeed. You risked your life to save what you called your ‘friend’? Such a big mistake.” he shook his head, his words becoming less and less sympathetic. “Though I suppose I did you a favor, little one. That ‘friend’ of yours would have killed you at some point. Honestly, you should be thanking me.” he almost laughed, before thinking better of it. “But I should be the one thanking you, no? After all, it seems as though my shadow has a soft side I’ve never known before. Perhaps...I will be victorious, winning what is rightfully mine!” he hummed for a moment, playfully tapping on the grave’s surface.

“But...for now I must apologize. I didn’t mean to take an innocent life such as yours. A child like you never deserved this fate.” Moonjumper said sadly, feeling guilt for only a moment. “I wonder what could have been if we had known each other for longer? What could we have become? Friends maybe?” he wondered, not looking for any particular answer, before letting out a sigh.

Moonjumper then revealed the object hidden behind his back, which was a sword. A red glowing sword, made of magic strings, to be precise. The same sword that he had accidentally killed Hat Kid with. He held it in both his hands for a moment, running his hands along the blade. It was covered in dried blood, which had darkened over time. He brought his finger up to the tip, dragging in against the stain and leaving behind an imprint of his finger. He could have easily destroyed the sword, and yet he didn’t.

There was something he needed to do first.

Moonjumper took the sword in both of his hands, and laid it in front of the grave. He then knelt down and closed his eyes, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. It almost sounded like strange praying. And in a way it was, as he was preforming a ritual over the small grave. He opened his eyes for a moment to reach into his inner coat pocket, bringing out the necessary materials. First, a lock of hair from the unfortunate victim. Then, a photo of her and Snatcher that he had stolen from her ship, along with a box of matches. And finally, a small dagger, engraved and glowing with supernatural power. He laid out the objects in front of him, before saying a small prayer for good fortune.

He then began the ritual to put her spirit to rest.

“A piece of your mortal body, of what was once loved and lost, to remember you by.” Moonjumper announced to the grave, picking up the lock of hair and placing the strands over the grave in a circle. Once they were all out of his hand, he patted down the soil to firmly put them in place. “Connect to this part of you in this moment, as it will be lost forever.” he whispered once he was finished. He continued to the next step.

“A memory of life, laughter, and love, to ease your aching heart and woes.” he went on, picking up the stolen photo from off the ground. He also took the box of matches, holding the picture in his other hand as he lit a match with his other. “Say farewell to your past, as your loved ones shall remember you dearly and join you soon in death.” he said, bringing the match up to the photo. He then watched, as the small flame burned at the edges of the photo, then to the rest. It burned and burned, until all that was left of the photo was a pile of ash. He sprinkled the ashes in the middle of the circle, bringing him to step three.

“And finally...” Moonjumper said, before reluctantly picking the dagger from off the ground. “A sacrifice from the one who took your life away, to put your soul at rest.” he said, before clenching his teeth as he brought the blade to his exposed hand. He swiped it against his blue flesh, cringing in pain as the fresh wound began to bleed. It was strange and unnatural, since it was the blood of a ghost, glowing bright and green. “May this blood quench your thirst of anger and revenge, and know that all shall be forgiven once you are gone.” he said, as he squeezed his hand and let the droplets of ghost blood fall into the circle.

“Now that the ritual has been complete-” Moonjumper said, as he brought his hand back and began to bandage it with his own strings. “-I ask that you never come back as an unwanted spirit, ghost, or any other spectral-like being.” he emphasized on this part, wanting the ritual to work and not be faulty. “Let your soul rest, let your friends and family remember you in their hearts, and let this be a sign of respect.” he closed his eyes, and quickly clapped his hands together.

And through an unseen force of magic, a glowing purple circle appeared in the middle of the grave. But Moonjumper pretended not to notice, as he mumbled a strange language under his breath. Magic wisps emanated from the circle’s surface, filling the air suddenly with sparkles of power. And rising from out the grave, a child-like apparition with it’s eyes lightly closed was lifted through the air. Moonjumper watched as it floated up to the treetops, higher and higher, until-

It finally faded into the starry night sky, and disappeared forever.

Moonjumper smiled to himself, though it was short lived. He then let out a sigh, as the deed had been done. Her soul had been put to rest, leaving her grave empty. Or at least, empty of an eventual threat to his plans. Now that he made sure she could never come back as a ghost, he didn’t have to worry about his rightful place to the throne.

“I’m sorry you had to leave so soon, little star.” he hummed, staring up at the sky at the light of the stars filled his vision. “But perhaps, you will find peace in not coming back as one of us.” he nodded, erasing any earlier signs of guilt. “What a pity that Snatcher has to wait a bit longer, though!” he laughed suddenly and cruelly, before turning to leave the graveyard.

But instead of floating out the gate, he disappeared in a cloud of pixels, his evil chuckle echoing away into the night. And as he disappeared, he left nothing but an empty grave behind him. An empty, hat-shaped grave that housed nothing but a soulless body in it now. The only things that were left of it now was the forever child-less hat, the planted flowers left by a mourning ghost, and the tombstone’s engraving. The sad chosen words, which read:

Here lies Hat Kid The kindest soul, The bravest of all, And the planet’s hero, Until the end of time…

[pilot-boi]

Missing In Action: Chapter Three

Had To Hide Away

Mr. Blue you did it right, but soon comes Mr. Night. Creeping over, now his hand is on your shoulder. Never mind, I'll remember you this way.

AO3 LINK

“I heard him get up last night and leave,” Yang offered, plopping down into the seat the Oscar had vacated, “if he’s missing.”

“You heard the kid leave?” Qrow asked, suddenly looking more alert. “As in, leave the house?”

“He definitely got up at least,” Nora brought up, gesturing sharply at Ren with a piece of his own bacon, “This guy woke up, and then wouldn’t get back to sleep.”

“How did you know I was awake?”

“I have my ways,” Nora replied, grinning cheekily at Ren who rolled his eyes. “But yeah, Jaune probably just went on a walk to clear his mind. Calm down. That sort of thing.” 

“Guys, he’s not on the couch!” Ruby shouted from the other room. “Are you sure he’s not just in his room?”

“I’ll check,” Oscar offered, pushing off the counter and looking thankful to have something to do.

“Who’s not on the couch?” Blake asked, sidling past Oscar, pulling on her jacket, and handing Yang her hairbrush.

“Thanks Blakey,” Yang said, taking it from her and working at some of the tangles in her mane of golden curls. “It’s Jaune, nobody’s seen him apparently.”

“But did he leave the house?” Qrow asked, relinquishing his food to his niece.

“I dunno, probably,” Yang mumbled through a mouthful of Qrow’s food. “I heard a door open, but didn’t you say that Vomit Boy got up a lot while you guys were traveling?”

“Yes, to train,” Ren nodded, putting pans in the sink and packing up the remaining foodstuffs into cupboards. “He preferred to be left alone, but he was always back by morning.”

“Well there you have it,” Weiss concluded, finishing her braid and smoothing her nightdress, “Nothing to worry about.”

“He’s not in his bedroom,” Oscar spoke up, dodging a stream of red rose petals and peeking back into the kitchen. 

“Well of course not,” Nora laughed, “We would have seen him if he was just asleep, silly!”

Ruby zipped back into sight, looking slightly concerned for the first time. “Nora are you sure you heard him leave?”

She looked taken aback. “I heard one of the outsidey doors open, if that’s what you mean, but all of them sound the same, ya know?”

“Oscar, go check the other rooms,” Ruby instructed. 

Oscar nodded and ducked back out. “I’m coming, too,” Nora piped up, jumping up from her seat and bounding after him. “Two sets of eyes are better than one, we’ll find Jauney in no time!”

“Ren, I thought you said he was training?” Ruby asked, letting Nora past her.

“I...thought he was?” Ren said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you think he wasn’t?”

“Well his armor and weapons are still in his room.”

“Wait his armor is in his room?” Yang spoke up, sounding surprised. “So you’re saying that he left without any form of protection?”

“He’s not in Yang and Blake’s room!” Nora called down the hallway. After a moment, she continued with, “And he’s not in your room Ruby!” The inhabitants of the kitchen watched as she dashed past, dragging Oscar by one hand. 

“We can’t find him anywhere,” the farm boy yelped, in the split second he had in the doorway before Nora tugged him further down the hall.

“Are we thinking that something happened?” Blake asked hesitantly, sounding none too pleased with the idea.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s saying that maybe there’s a reason your friend didn’t come back from his walk,” Qrow said, ignoring the pointed looked Weiss shot him. “I’m gonna call some people, see if anyone’s seen the kid.”

“So you do think he’s missing?” Ruby asked, meeting her uncle at the door.

“I’m not sayin’ anything,” Qrow shrugged her off, “Just making sure nothing’s going on.”

With Qrow occupied with calling whoever he was, the rest of them split up to more thoroughly search the house. They scoured the building from top to bottom, stern to aft, and several extra directions as well, but nobody found hide nor hair of Jaune.

They all reconvened in the living room, Ruby waiting for her uncle to return, Ren and Nora flanking her. Oscar even tried consulting Ozpin, but the man had no answers for once. They didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad sign.

When Qrow slouched back into the room, Ruby and Nora pounced on him before he even had a chance to put scroll back. “Hey give a man some space, sheesh,” he said, less roughly than he normally would have done.

The two relented, back up to where Ren was, but none of them were doing a very good job of hiding how worried they were. “So?” Ruby pestered, seemingly unable to hold herself back anymore. “Do you know what happened?” Behind her, the others stopped what they were doing and were very pointedly not listening in on the conversation.

Qrow ran one hand through his already messy hair and slumped a little. “From what I’ve been able to gather, it seems like he got snatched.”

All the air had been sucked out of the room. That had to be the only reason why everyone suddenly seemed to have lost the ability to speak. “Snatched?” Blake almost whispered from the couch.

Qrow nodded hand itching for his flask. “Sympathizers, mercenaries, that sort of thing,” he clarified, sounding none to pleased about it. “They get information outta people and then sell it to the highest bidder.”

“Don’t you mean try to get information?” Yang piped up, folding her arms in front of her chest. 

“There’s no try, at least not with the group who I think snatched the kid.” Qrow shook his head.

“You know them?” Weiss asked, sounding astounded. “Why in Remnant would you know people who kidnap and extort a teenager for information?”

“It’s a long story, but believe me when I say they have a one hundred percent success rate,” he explained, looking grim, and sounding worse. “They get the info, no matter the methods.”

The methods. What the hell could Qrow mean by methods? Jaune was missing, had been for hours at least, who knew what could be happening to him at this very moment. The possibilities were chasing each other in circles around Nora’s head, each worse than the last. Ruby looked paralysed, and Weiss and Oscar kept exchanging nervous glances. Blake had taken one of Yang’s hands in her own, but neither girl was looking at each other.

And would he tell them anything? They all knew that Jaune would rather die than let anything happen to any of them, and giving up even the smallest scrap of information could put them all in danger. But...everyone had a breaking point. 

And what would break first? His body...or his spirit? When they found him, because they would find him, would he be the same? They just hoped that they found him and brought him home before there wasn’t anything left of Jaune Arc to bring home.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hey me again, I was wondering if I could request an imagine for Spencer Reid x reader, where during the time he is in prison she has a bad feeling that she can just not shake,and so she begs Hotch and Rossi to allow her to go undercover in order to keep an eye on him and ensure his safety, as a female prison guard but being an fbi agent it doesn't quite work and so her and the team device a plan to get him out asap and keep his spirits up- with a heart felt reunion between Spence and her

I’ve not seen most of Criminal Minds so Wiki was my friend in this one. There’s gonna be tons of legal inaccuracies in this so keep your feedback nice xp

Y/L/N = your last name.

wc: 909.

You knocked on the door of Hotch’s office, shifting your body weight from one foot to the other as you opened the door slowly, moving to stand just on the inside of his office.

“Y/L/N, what are you doing here? It’s late, you should be at home.”

“I know, but I,” You sighed heavily, checked the surroundings outside of Hotch’s office and then moved further in, shutting the door behind you. “I have a really bad feeling that I can’t shake.”

“What do you mean?” Hotch was frowning, his strong dark eyes watching you carefully. 

“Just profile me. I know we’re not supposed to, but I can’t explain it.”

Hotch weighed you carefully with his gaze. He saw the clenched fists, the way you kept shifting your weight, the way you were gnawing on your bottom lip, the slightly irregular rate of your breathing. He saw your slightly dishevelled appearance, the way your hair was tousled like you’d been running your hands through it… You looked ready to run.

“You have a bad feeling. About Reid.”

You nodded, grateful that Hotch understood. Even beyond the profiling, even beyond your relationship as team mates, even beyond protocol, Hotch understood. It was something you had always admired about the man, his ability to understand anything.

Hotch stood watching you a moment longer and then he picked up the phone in his office and phoned through to Rossi - this needed a second opinion. There had been something else in your gaze that Hotch was very unsure of, even with all of his experience. 

Rossi came through easily, his gaze calculating yet also calm, reassured.

“What are we thinking?”

“Y/L/N wants to go undercover to watch Reid. They have a really bad feeling they can’t shake.”

“How bad?”

“I asked Hotch to profile me.”

Rossi let out a low whistle, almost impressed. “Sounds like you gotta do it, Hotch.”

“I could go under as a female prison guard, get assigned to where he is. Keep an eye on him. There’s something really not right and I can’t eat, can’t sleep… I need to know he’s all right.”

With your gaze fixed to the floor, you missed a wincing Hotch slip a grinning, smug Rossi a twenty; they had placed bets on whether it’d be you or Reid to make the first move. This level of emotional uncertainty counted as the first move, in their books.

It was to be a tense few days in which you had to get trained up and situated.

o0o0o0

No matter how prepared one is, mistakes and accidents can occur and that’s how you ended up being outed as an FBI agent to a hall full of angry criminals and innocents that didn’t belong there.

For your safety (and Reid’s, to an extent), you were pulled out and once again left with nothing to do but wait around for his case to clear through the courts. After some tense months in which you continued to sleep and eat little (even if you wanted to, you just couldn’t), Hotch announced to the team that he had a surprise for everyone.

They were bringing Reid home.

Indeed, he walked through the double doors of the BAU with JJ and Garcia on either arm, both of them giving the other team members teary smiles. They still had to get his mum back, but there were agents travelling out there already. It was all set in stone now.

As the team welcomed him home, gave him hugs and smiles and made him feel like the hell of the last few months was beginning to drip away like the remnants of a very vivid nightmare, you lingered in the background, waiting your time impatiently. You had elected to go last, because once you had him with you, there was no going back. You were going to tell him there and then.

Finally, as the last person released Spencer, he turned to you, that glow still on his face. You could feel the eyes of several team members on your face and you resolutely ignored the way many of them clutched notes in their hands, ready to be exchanged based on the intensity of your reunion. Normally, you’d be embarrassed by being stared at but you were otherwise distracted.

“Y/N.” Spencer’s voice broke as the last part of your name slipped past his lips, and you were too emotional to say anything. You could only stride forward and wrap your arms around him, finally, after months of being apart. He felt thinner and underneath his suit you could feel the bulk of bandages. He had been beaten, you knew, and this only made the tears in your eyes pour hotter and faster, staining his suit with salt water.

You squeezed him as hard as you could, though you were painfully aware of the bandages.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can squeeze.”

“It’ll hurt.”

“I don’t care.” To match his words, Spencer squeezed you, too, and you squealed and hugged him as hard as you could for several long seconds. 

You sighed happily. “I love you, Spencer. I love you, I love you.”

Boy Wonder froze, unsure, but then he gasped lowly and he seemed to hug you even harder than he did before. 

When at last you pulled away from each other, the team members dispersed now, Spencer leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you, too.”

Criminal Minds: @sanity-is-overratedxp @missingaim @miyakokurono @hyoomintypo

[simpleidiotpsychic]

Serizawa Week Ficlet #4: Future

@serizawaweek2019

Day 4: Future. Slight Serirei. Reigen reads Serizawa’s fortune. (A day late shhhh)

AO3 Link

Reigen was up to his usual antics.

Serizawa could only watch with mild amusement from his desk where he’d just finished his math homework and was now keeping out of the way while Reigen performed a… what was this? It wasn’t a seance. Oh right. He was prediting their customer’s future.

Reigen and the customer--a middle aged woman with a coral pink cardigan--were sitting across from each other in the center of the office, on plain straight-backed chairs. They were close enough that their knees almost touched, and Reigen currently had the woman’s hand rested in his, tracing her palm with a very energetic finger. She was blushing a little. He was always popular with the older ladies…

“I see, I see…” he was muttering to himself, scrutinizing her hand with a look of utmost gravity. He was wearing his black suit and tie today because their lineup of scheduled jobs had required an extra sense of austere theatrics. Reigen was all about presentation. He knew the sort of haircut Serizawa would need back when he first started here, although for the most part he left Serizawa to his own devices after that, and Reigen himself was pre-planned down to the last button sometimes, if it could eke out a few extra yen. If you looked carefully enough (which Serizawa had had a long time to do) you’d notice that Reigen’s dress shoes were actually quite old and banged up from running through a few adventures in their day. There was even the barest slit of a hole in the right one, where he was about ready to walk right out of his insole. But Reigen shined his shoes so meticulously, and kept his shoelaces so perfectly symmetrical, that customers never even gave them a second glance.

It was all sleight of hand. Reigen was a master.

He leaned forward a bit for dramatic effect (and because causing a middle aged woman’s heart to flutter could be good for business sometimes).

“This mark across your lifeline… It’s an ill omen,” he said seriously. She was absolutely entranced, leaning in too to latch onto his every word.

He always started with some bad news as a hook, but what Serizawa appreciated about Reigen’s “fortunetelling” was that he always foretold a happy ending.

“Your sons are at college… You miss them,” he said, with enough mystique that she completely forgot she’d told him that ten minutes ago. “I foresee a longer period of loneliness with your house empty… Ah, but wait!”

Here it came.

Reigen tapped the very middle of her palm with his finger in incredible earnestness.

“I see… You’re going to get… A gym membership!”

“A gym membership?” she repeated.

“Yes! Ah, it’s coming so clearly. Excuse me, sometimes the vibrations are just so high I get overwhelmed… Yes, a gym membership! You’re going to take this time for yourself to feel more energized and get reaquainted with your own health. It’s easy to get caught up in the daily grind, you understand, and forget to actually live life. But the stars foresee great renewal. Your husband should join too. You must take back the life that you set aside for parenthood and embrace selfishness! Yes yes, that is your fate.”

He let go of her hand with great circumstance and she immediately covered her chest in emotion.

“Oh… That sounds delightful, Reigen-sensei!” she said.

“Doesn’t it? Fate works in mysterious ways.”

He used the line Fate works in mysterious ways very often.

It was all a ruse, but Serizawa thought of it as a ruse with strange benefits. Reigen didn’t realize sometimes his own positive impact. He wasn’t hurting their customers with unnecessary fears or antagonism, and mostly just gave everyone helpful life advice. They came to him with money wanting to hear something in particular and he gave them that. In some ways it was better than an actual fortune, which no doubt would include just as much heartache as life itself did.

She offered him a tip which he graciously declined in a carefully calculated fashion just so that she would say “no no I insist!” and then he could accept it with extra benevolence, hoarding it very quickly into his pocket. She scheduled another appointment in a couple of months. If anything, Reigen was kind of like a therapist for some of these people.

He smiled radiantly and bowed her out of the door. Then he turned to Serizawa and the customer service smile immediately fell into his usual bland expression.

“What’s with that face?” Reigen asked.

Serizawa chuckled. He hadn’t realized it, but he was kind of smirking at Reigen. He shook his head. “You continue to impress,” he said, not without fondness.

“Sounds like you doubt your master’s abilities,” said Reigen, sitting back in one of those plain chairs in the center of the room, crossing one leg over the other, and thumbing through his money.

Reigen had never quite told Serizawa that he had no powers, at least not in so many words. Serizawa knew of course because he wasn’t stupid. And he had a feeling Reigen knew that he knew. But they still danced around it like this, like it was a joke between them now.

It was funny to think how terrified Serizawa was on his first day here and how long those nerves had lasted. Even now he could have high anxiety days, just waking up with some extra energy buzzing around in his gut, but he'd gotten so used to the daily routine of Spirits and Such that he could do his work even with his mind elsewhere. And Reigen… well, he was Reigen. Imagining being afraid of Reigen now was kind of hilarious.

He was as familiar as the routine, maybe moreso. Serizawa thought he could probably be with Reigen all the time and not mind it at all. That was a lot coming from someone who'd spent fifteen years barely socializing and still didn't have the highest stamina for it.

Serizawa stood, sliding his math notebook into his backpack leaning against his desk, and then circled around to approach Reigen's chair. In perfect sync, Reigen pulled out half the bills--already counted--and held them out for Serizawa.

"We have a safe," Serizawa pointed out, tucking his share in his pocket. He didn't count it a second time. Reigen was always a wizard with money, never a mistake to be had.

"Sometimes it's good to feel your paycheck weighing down your pocket," Reigen said, taking out his wallet to properly deposit his own now. "Appreciate the little things. Right?"

"It feels almost like I'm your customer now."

Reigen shot him a sharp grin.

"Want me to peer into your future?" he joked.

The old Serizawa would have laughed and graciously bowed away from this bluff, the submissive and perhaps even shy route.

The new Serizawa understood he was allowed to have fun sometimes and so rose to the challenge.

"Yes actually," he said, with the barest faux-serious smile and deposited himself in the chair opposite Reigen.

Reigen looked a little surprised but quickly recovered, shaking out his hands at the wrists as if in preparation.

"Alright then. I guess I'll give you the employee discount," he said, jumping back on track with the banter.

"How kind."

It was now something like an extension of their usual joke. I know you have no powers, and I'm teasing you for it. What will you do to show me up?

Reigen held out a hand and Serizawa laid his own hand on top of it, his knuckles settling into Reigen's palm. Reigen's touch was warm. Serizawa's hand was somewhat larger than his, particularly in the fingers, but Reigen cupped it easily as he brushed the heel of it with his other thumb.

"Hmmmmmm," Reigen said, staring down at the lines in Serizawa's hand with exaggerated contemplation.

Serizawa watched his face. Up close like this he couldn't help but notice the exact fall of his hair over his forehead, the ruminative pinch of his eyebrows. There was a stray eyelash on his cheek and Serizawa almost brushed it away just on instinct, as naturally as if it were his own, but he stopped himself.

He'd really grown a lot of confidence, hadn't he? But he suspected this level of comfort was something only possible with Reigen.

A little sheepish at his own daring, he averted his eyes down to his hand. He didn't usually look at his own hands much, but now he found himself noticing all the details he typically took for granted. His knuckles and the back of his hands down to the wrist were coated in fine black hair that was visible on the side on his thumb and disappeared past the bones of his wrist into his buttoned sleeve. He had a new wristwatch hugging his wrist, the small face actually turned to lay against his pulse because that was where he instinctively looked to check it. It had been a gift from Reigen actually, on his birthday. It was one of Serizawa's favorite possessions because it was one of the only gifts from a friend in his modest collection.

Yes, Reigen was absolutely a friend by now.

Reigen traced two fingers down the line across the very center of Serizawa's palm, his touch so feathery light it almost tickled.

"Your life line," Reigen said. "It's very long and steady."

It wasn't, really. It was short and cut off in a few places. Serizawa wasn't sure what that actually meant for his future, but he smiled warmly.

"Oh is it?"

"Yes," said Reigen confidently. "I foresee a lot of happiness in your future, and… hmmmm hang on, I've got some conflicting vibes."

"Of course, take your time."

"I see a lot of success." Reigen was looking very determinedly down at Serizawa's hand, avoiding his gaze, and that was Serizawa's cue that this joke had taken a turn into a brave patch of genuineness. Reigen stroked the side of his hand idly with his thumb as he spoke. It was nice… it was oddly gentle and calming. "There'll be some bullshit of course but I see someone who can handle it. And your career is going well… You must have a great boss."

Serizawa laughed, and it got kinda caught in his throat, where a bubble of giddiness had accumulated. He was so happy. Not just now, but in general. Sometimes it just hit him all at once, that reminder. How he was truly, deeply happy.

"Your money line looks great!" Serizawa wasn’t sure if real palmistry actually had a money line but it was one of Reigen’s favorites. "And your love line…"

Reigen faltered as he traced the line with his fingers. For too long. The touch of his fingertip tingled in a way that seemed to travel all the way up Serizawa’s arm, into the crook of his elbow. His eyes darted up to meet Serizawa's for a split moment, oddly shy, and then fell again. He suddenly laid his palm flat over Serizawa's instead, just holding his hand there for a moment. It was such an oddly tender gesture that Serizawa's heart did a weird sort of backflip.

"You'll be very happy, Serizawa," Reigen said with finality, his mouth twisting into a crooked little smile, almost in self deprecation.

Then he gave Serizawa's hand a few dismissive pats and let it go. He finally looked up again, all the secret softness he'd shown schooling carefully into humor again. "Don't make me a liar. Happiness means continued work."

A part of Serizawa kind of wanted to cry, from just how happy he was and so glad to have this man in his life. Instead he just laughed. It was all he could do.

"I'll do my best," he said, with a strangely tremulous sincerity in the promise.

"You always do."

[vulpinmusings]

Letters from Buxcord 2 - Razorback

After much delay, my RPG group returned to our Monster of the Week campaign for our second mystery.  This time, Ash and his new companions look into strange happenings surrounding a rich family and an old slaughterhouse.

Samantha,

Any doubts I had about sticking around Buxcord are well and truly squashed now.  It’s only been about a week since the Santa-squatch incident and I’ve already squared off with something much bigger and purely magical.

It started just a couple days after Christmas.  I was trawling about town for more details on local legends in the hopes of finding some common sources or threads to follow, and wound up at Bayou Boating, the main tourist attraction in this small town.  They had a list of “local cryptids” posted on the wall, but it included several creatures that, unless the names apply to different mythics than they do in Taryn, do not tend to live in or around wetlands.  The one person on staff at the time – it is the off-season for boat tours – proved to be less than well-informed about the one local legend I asked him about.  People occasionally go missing in the bayou after foolishly going out there on their own at night.

Well, I can’t really put all the blame for my not getting a lot of info on the clerk.  I‘d only asked a few questions before I experienced a major pulse in the magic fields.  It was almost a textbook example of the ripples caused by an inexperienced Mage casting spells beyond their ability.  The pulse carried some lingering effects of the original spell, as I had a brief vision of a grinning shadow floating over the bayou.  I set off in search of the source, but as messy as the spell had been it was also far enough away that the magic settled and the trail grew cold before I got more than a block.

Nothing else happened for a few days, until I crossed paths with Nollthep and Lea again.  I hadn’t really seen either of them since the Santa-sqautch, and the simple fact that Nollthep was not in his shop and was asking after somebody should have tipped me off.  Whatever that fellow is, he seems to work for some higher being and has little to no personal needs outside of running errands for his “Boss.” Lea is normal other than her instinctual persuasion magic, but her paths and mine just hadn’t crossed in the last week.

At any rate, we three happened to meet up at the local park where Lea was performing with some small-time Punk Rock band that sings in Spanish.  That’s… I think the language matches best to Iberrian.  Anyway, Lea’s singing was infused with a mesmeric effect that had everyone (except yours truly, naturally) in love with the whole performance despite her not knowing the language or the words very well. Nollthep wandered up to us after the show was over, asking everyone he came across if they knew of any Wiccans or anybody named Clemonte.  When he got to Lea and I, his questions turned to the topic of whether or not humans need blood and hearts to live.

I don’t think I need to say how concerning that was, but I didn’t get a chance to press for details before our attention was stolen by a group of local law enforcement suddenly taking off in response to a call from a “Clemonte mansion.”  That got Nollthep’s full focus, of course, and Lea finally recalled that the Clemontes were a wealthy but reclusive and disliked family in Buxcord.  She alluded to some previous encounters with them that had left her particularly soured, but she agreed to lead us to the house.

The Clemontes live on a hill on the southern outskirts of town, with their driveway reaching all the way to the base of the hill.  As mansions go, it wasn’t all that large, but the fountain in front had the ostentation of true Old Money.  The butler who answered our knock at the door sealed the impression, and he would have turned us away on principle if Lea’s magic hadn’t kicked in and scrambled his senses enough to make him tolerant of three random gawkers intruding on his employer’s private business.

I don’t want to become to reliant on that kind of manipulation, but without the reputation I’ve got back home I might not have much choice for a while…

The police – a sheriff and two deputies to be precise – were in the living room questioning a young woman and paid us little mind as we peeked in for a look.  The reason for the call was glaringly obvious: a disemboweled corpse had been hung on the wall over the fireplace with a graffiti-style pig’s head and the words “I’m back” scrawled in blood below it.  A most disturbing sight, although only Lea showed any physical reaction.  I, of course, am too experienced to let my revulsion get in the way of solving a problem, and Nollthep is too inhuman to even have a visceral reaction to such sights.

The sheriff and pair of deputies who were on-site were surprisingly fine with the three of us stepping in and asking our own questions.  I’m hoping that it was just them thinking that we must be welcome since the we’d gotten past the butler, but it’s too early to rule out general incompetence yet. The girl was Sophia Clemonte and the corpse had been a security guard at the Clemonte slaughterhouse and had no reason to be in the family mansion.  Sophia was shook up by the corpse, but she was more concerned about her younger brother, Cyril, who was missing.  The police told us that the rest of the family were upstairs, so we decided to go up and interrogate them while the police were still busy getting Sophia’s story.

The Clemonte parents are named Archie and Penelope.  Archie’s a bit of a boor and seems to hate magic on principle, while Penelope had the aura of someone with the talent for magic, albeit one she hasn’t used in many years thanks to her husband’s influence.  From Archie, we got an explanation for what the message painted on the wall could have meant.  About twenty years ago, an employee at the slaughterhouse had suffered a psychotic break after being fired and killed several people before committing suicide.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get more than that out of Archie before Lea insulted him and he told us to get out.

On our way out, we decided to check in on the last Clemonte, the eldest son Zachary.  I didn’t get any sense that he’d inherited any of his mother’s ability, and he was callously unconcerned about the whole scenario and intent on heading out for a little walk despite all common sense.

Penelope caught up to us at the top of the stairs and, now out from under Archie’s gaze, opened up a little more about her history with magic as we headed back to the crime scene.  She used to practice the Wiccan traditions, but gave them up years ago and hid her books away. Young Cyril had shown an interest in those books, and Penelope had given him one of the less dangerous tomes to look through.  I convinced Penelope to show me where she’d hidden the rest of her books, and she took us to a surprisingly large room hidden behind a secret door in the kitchen.  The room was full of not just books but all kinds of the stuff you typically find in the collection of those who follow ritual-based magic traditions. There was a book missing from the shelves, but it wasn’t the book Penelope had loaned to Cyril.  Penelope said the missing book was primarily about summoning and controlling spirits.

(Be sure to clarify that I’m not talking about Spiriter Warlock stuff here when you relay this to the M’Dales.  They’ll probably have a conniption otherwise.)

The sheriff had already had the corpse body-bagged when we returned to the sitting room, but I took a crack at searching the spot where it had been hanging, in case there was any lingering magic I could trace.  I got more than I bargained for; somehow, I managed to briefly link myself to the mind of an otherworldly entity (other than Nollthep) for a few seconds.  Demonic seems like an adequate adjective.  I had to sit down and catch my breath, and Lea charmed the butler into bringing us some coffee while Nollthep went to search Cyril’s room and one of the deputies was sent out to bring Zachary back. Nollthep came back with the missing tome, and we discussed whether or not to let Penelope know about it. We opted to keep her in the dark until I’d had a chance to look through it.

After much too much time had passed without either Zach or the deputy returning, I felt a ripple of powerful magic underlaid with that same sense of the demonic and led the group outside to see what was up. Standing by the fountain, holding Zachary up like a stuck pig and with the deputy lying broken at its feet, was an 8-foot tall humanoid figure dressed like a butcher and wearing a leather pig mask that was bleeding from the seams.  Reacting quickly, I wrapped the figure up in a Tangler while Nollthep produced a stack of playing cards and flung them one by one at the figure, as expertly as myself but without any spells attached.  The thing barely reacted.

Lea ran over to try and save the deputy, but her magic betrayed her, draining life out of the man rather than putting more in.

I tried to engage the creature in conversation, just to establish that it wasn’t sentient, and then tried to see how it liked a bullet in the head.

Did I mention I acquired a revolver shortly after the Santa-squatch incident?  It’s not my style, but without Carmilla around to handle the non-magical aspects of combat I have to make do.

Not that the bullet did any good in this event.

Nollthep tossed the spellbook to me and told me to try to find a counter-spell to whatever had summoned pig-head while he kept it busy.  I quickly found a likely looking spell and started Weaving it together to the best of my ability.  I hadn’t gotten far, though, before pig-head sensed the gathering magic and fled via dematerlization.

So, I learned that in this universe, evil spirits can sense when you’re trying to counteract the spell that summoned them to the mortal plan and can just get out of range before you’re done.  That’s an unwelcome complication.

Once the dust had settled, an ambulance was called in.  By some miracle, the deputy was still alive.  Zachary, on the other hand, was missing all his internal organs as well as having bled out.

In the course of informing the Clemontes and the sheriff about what had happened in the driveway and some of our suspicions, Nollthep and the Sheriff got into a bit of an argument about whether or not magic is real.  I could have gotten involved, but I was occupied with more important matters such as studying the spellbook and only rejoined the conversation when Nollthep left the room for a private conversation with Penelope and I overheard the Sheriff mention to Archie that there were reports of strange noises at the old slaughterhouse.  Over Archie’s protests, the sheriff insisted that everyone stay put until the morning and left his remaining deputy to keep an eye on us.

Once the Sheriff was gone, I made it clear that I did not intend to wait around or leave the case in the hands of people who didn’t even believe in the existence of magic.  I tried to conjure a basic mage-light to convince the deputy that I knew what I was talking about, but wound up with a tiny fireball instead.  It was sufficient to convince the deputy, at least.  Nollthep came back from his business with Penny and, naturally, agreed to accompany me.  To my surprise, Lea also wanted to come along, because she figured that since I’d chased pig-face off once, the safest place to be was at my side.

It was a long walk to the slaughterhouse.  It must have been abandoned shortly after the incident twenty years ago, because the place was empty and full of rusted equipment.  I felt the presence of pig-face as soon as we entered the building.  We decided that since pig-face had a… particular theme to him, we should start our search in the pork slaughtering section.  The plan was to locate pig-face and figure out how to restrain him so he couldn’t escape while I cast the banishing spell on him.

In the pig area, we heard the sounds of actual pigs in the preparation pens and went to look.  The things we found were mostly identical to normal pigs, but their eyes and teeth were more human than porcine, and they were munching on offal that included at least one intact human hand.  Nollthep, working on the assumption that the pigs were sapient, attempted to cast a translation spell on himself and wound up just speaking gibberish and apparently losing his ability to comprehend Lea or me for several minutes.

Then we saw pig-face up in the rafters, holding a blood-soaked mallet. Nollthep produced his throwing cards and put some actual magic into them that briefly set fire to pig-face’s sleeve.  The beast dropped down on us and walloped Nollthep.  As I Wove a lightning bolt, Lea ran for cover behind me.  She grabbed onto me briefly and, in that brief moment, the magic fell into place with my normal natural grace. The lighting struck pig-face, then arced off him and unlocked one of the pig pens.  The pig-thing inside charged at Nollthep, but he swatted it up and into another pen with ease.

Pig-face came after me next, and I threw up a barrier to try and stop his mallet.  I must have miscalculated, because the blow shattered the shield and knocked me back a bit.  Could have been worse, I guess, but still…

Nollthep pulled out a chain of tied-up handkerchiefs and tried to tie pig-face up with them.  It held for a few seconds, but not nearly enough time for me to even start the banishment.  Lea suddenly ran off into the heart of the slaughtering area, and pig-face chased her once he broke loose.  I got him in a Tangler, but it barely held him long enough for Nollthep to club him once.  I heard Lea say something about finding the meat grinder that pig-face had first died in as I ran to keep up with the fight.  I pushed past Nollthep and, in a bit of foolish desperation, tried to tackle pig-face and flip him off the walkway and into the machinery. You can probably guess how well that went.  Pig-face had me by the neck and dangling over the suddenly active grinder before I could regain my balance.  Nollthep whipped his hankie-chain around the specter’s arm to try and haul me out of danger, but pig-face resisted the pull and tossed a knife at Nollthep with his free hand. Then Lea found a meathook and chucked it at pig-face, and I was falling toward a mass of whirling blades and serrated rollers.

Reflex kicked in and I cast my Transport spell without thinking about how it would need to be adjusted.  By pure luck, the spell not only worked but deposited me safely on the walkway away from the fight.  As I made my way back to the action, I saw that my companions were in a bit of a panic thinking I’d just died (Nollthep apparently thought meat grinders just magically transmute flesh into meat or something and Lea didn’t see what happened).  Lea’s grief was so great she actually summoned a big root up through the walkway and into pig-face’s arm just as the creature made a move to throw Nollthep into the grinder after me.

As for myself, I was starting to get annoyed.  I’d cheated death by pure luck and pig-face was proving to very, very bothersome.  Simply restraining him was no longer an option for me.  He had to suffer a bit.

So I set him on fire.  It didn’t do much on its own, but Nollthep threw on some sort of powder that exploded and knocked pig-face off the walkway.  The creature threw the hooked chain from its belt and caught Nollthep by the shoulder, but I broke through the rusted chain with a simple Breaking before Nolly got pulled in after pig-face.

For reasons I don’t quite understand yet, being subjected to the same form of death a second time proved to be enough to end pig-face’s return to the physical world.  Once he’d been thoroughly ground up, that persistent, buzzing sense of his presence vanished along with the human-toothed pigs.  The gore they’d been feasting on remained, however.  I took the hand I’d seen earlier for the police to check, in case it happened to have belonged to Cyril Clemonte.  Nollthep went into a panic when I mentioned that theory and he swiftly dug through the viscera looking for anything that could be a heart.  Once he found something, he vanished in a blink, presumably to deliver the goods to his Boss.

Lea and I returned to the mansion just long enough to tell the deputy what to expect when the cops went to the slaughterhouse and to hand over the hand.  I then made sure Lea got home safely before returning to my hotel room.

When I arrived, I found a card on the bed.  It invited me to visit a Madam Weaver, who apparently knows something that would be of use to me.

How useful it will actually be remains to be seen, but you may be seeing me or these letters sooner than I hoped.

With guarded hope,

Ash

[eternityunicorn]

When Death Meets Life - Part Five

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Smut

Summary: AU - Set in TO Season 3 and Season 5 - Elijah Mikaelson was a creature of death, an Original vampire designed to take life. One night, while searching for a missing Hayley, who was cursed to remain a wolf by Niklaus, he encounters a most wondrous creature, one opposite to himself. This being is a creature of life - a unicorn! He witnesses her breathing life back into a group of dead werewolves. He finds himself amazed by her, but then she vanishes like a dream. Who is she? Will he ever find out?

———————————————————————————————————

New Orleans - 2025

On the way to the Louisiana town, Eternity had requested that Klaus summon two people, one named Rebekah and the other Kol there. Elijah sensed those names were familiar to him, just like the hybrid they rode on a plane together with all the way back to the States and then climbed into an awaiting Ford Expedition. 

The amnesiac had a million questions he wanted to ask both his companions about who he was, but refrained. He wanted to see the world he had come from with his own eyes first, before asking anything that might influence his choice as to whether or not he should return to his old life.

Klaus hadn’t seem very keen on conversing anyway. He remained quiet and seemed worried the whole trip. Eternity has tried to comfort him, but the hybrid had continued to be skeptical of her abilities to help him. He must have been the type to need to see things with his own eyes,

Before long, they were all standing in the inner courtyard of the Abattoir with a tall blonde coming to meet them. The storm caused by the two men’s close proximity, as well as the whispers and the painful tugging had been kept to a dull roar with Eternity’s powers. The new familiar face was named Freya Mikaelson, a witch who turned out to be Niklaus’s and Elijah’s older sister. 

Immediately, the Mikaelson witch relayed that she had been trying to find Hayley, but had no luck in discovering her location. It was then that she had noticed the shimmering immortal and felt overwhelmed by her very presence there. The woman had tears in her eyes and nearly collapsed upon the concrete floor. 

“It’s you. I know you. Even if I were blind, I would know you - the goddess from beyond the stars and the spirit of the forest. I saw you once, long ago, but I thought you were just a dream,” Freya rambled to the ethereal beauty, then breathed a sigh of relief, before collecting herself to more casually say, “Nik, told me that you’re here to stop the Hollow.”

“She’s also here to help find and save Hayley,” Klaus piped up. “That takes priority, Sister.”

“Actually, eradicating the Hollow is first on the agenda,” Eternity corrected him. “I do not wish to waste my energy continuing to keep that evil from tearing this city apart. Where are your other siblings, Nik?”

“We’re here,” called another female. 

Suddenly, two more people came forth, coming down from the upper levels of the house. One was another blonde woman and the other was a tall brunette man. These people must have been Rebekah and Kol. 

Again, Elijah felt that sensation of familiarity when faced with these other strangers, whom were supposedly his relatives, but couldn’t remember them. 

“Elijah,” Rebekah greeted him happily, surprised to see him. 

It was awkward to not remember one’s own siblings, but that was the reality he faced. He smiled politely at the blonde vampire, however it certainly wasn’t with the familiarity he was supposed to have. 

“Gather around Mikaelson siblings possessed by the Hollow,” Eternity announced to them all. “I will extract the demon that plagues you and this world, banishing it forever, so that once more your family can be whole.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, love,” Kol asked her, as each of them, including Elijah drew near her. “Not even the most powerful of witches, not even the Ancestors, could stop the Hollow.”

The ethereal beauty laughed lightly and then smirked at the tall man, “But I am not of this world. I am mightier than your mortal magic and mortal spirits of the afterworld, my dear Kol. I am strong enough to do what they could not. Now, come. It is time...to show you my wonders.”

Tentatively, the amnesiac vampire drew even closer and the other three did as well. They all came to stand on every side of her. Elijah stood in front of her, Niklaus in back of her, Kol to the left and Rebekah to the right. Each of them watched with curiosity and a bit of uncertainty as Eternity thrusted her hands outward on ether side of her. 

It was immediate when Elijah and the other three were forced to bend back with their arms straight out. A terrible pain filled the amnesiac vampire. It was an agonizing burning and an excruciating pulling feeling that left him unable to do anything. He couldn’t breathe or think. He only knew pain. 

However, it only last a second, before it was over and there was only a big blue light hanging over all their heads. Elijah only saw it for a moment, the pure form of the Hollow, before it suddenly and abruptly vanished as if it had never been there at all. 

The whole ordeal was rather anticlimactic in it’s quickness. The amnesiac vampire hadn’t known what to expect, but had thought there would have been more to the experience of the Hollow’s removal and it’s subsequent destruction. Yet, he found he was simply thankful that he no longer felt that horrible tugging or heard those bothersome whispers - and he never would again.

“Well, now that that’s been dealt with, can we please find and rescue my wife?” Klaus said to Eternity, as he regained his breath from having his piece of the Hollow ripped from him. “Hayley needs us.”

The immortal lady nodded, “Aye. Let’s go. I already have a fix on her.”

Elijah watched as the woman he loved more than anything move to leave him there with these familiar strangers. “Hey,” he pulled her back around, before she could get far. “I’ll go with you. Maybe I can help.”

Eternity smiled sweetly and nodded.

With that, the trio was off to rescue Klaus’s wife. 

It didn’t take long before they were just outside of New Orleans at an old, abandoned house called Shiloh Place. It was Eternity that had guided them there and quietly, they exited the hybrid’s Land Rover, proceeding forward with the cautious stealth of predators. 

As they approached the house, Elijah could hear conversations being carried out inside. A young boy and an older woman were arguing over killing Hayley. The boy didn’t want to hurt anybody, but this woman insisted that it needed to be done. They needed to move quickly or else their efforts would be meaningless. 

Klaus lead the way, kicking down the front door effortlessly and angrily shouting, “Greta!”

The younger Mikaelson charged inside with Elijah and Eternity following behind closely. They were just in time to see the hybrid attack and tear apart the older woman that had been heard arguing with a boy, of whom stood back with a look of terror upon his face. He thought he was going to die as well, the amnesiac vampire thought. 

Then their eyes locked and he couldn’t bring himself to punish one so young, though it was obvious he had been involved with the kidnapping. Instead, he quietly urged the boy to leave. He didn’t have to be told twice. He left the house immediately and didn’t look back.

Nearby was a familiar young woman, covered in dirt and dried blood, as she sat in the corner, appearing exhausted. The older Mikaelson turned his attention toward her, watching as his wife went to her, checking to make sure that she was alright. He went over as well, ready to help get Klaus’s wife out of harms way. 

“Who are you?” Hayley asked Eternity. 

“Someone who will reverse what has been done to you,” the ethereal beauty replied quickly. “They bound your werewolf side to kill you, didn’t they?”

The young woman nodded, “Yeah. How did you -?”

The powerful immortal laid her fingertips on Hayley’s forehead, which glowed bright blue and hummed for a brief moment. “There. Your hybrid status had been restored, my dear. Now, we should get out of here.”

“Yes, let’s,” Klaus agreed as he came over with a soft smile as he looked down at his restored wife. “This place is disgusting. No place for my lady.”

Hayley got to her feet quickly with a loving grin of her own as she ran into her husband’s arms, embracing him tightly. “Thank you for the timely rescue,” she murmured, before she kissed his lips.

Elijah watched the touching scene as it unfolded, feeling the loving effects of it urge him to wrap his arm around Eternity, pulling her into his side and resting his head against hers. She put her hand on his chest and kissed his cheek quickly, just as the pair of hybrids pulled apart.

“Hey, I noticed that the world isn’t on fire with the two of you together,” Hayley said, gesturing between the two Originals. “What’s up with that?”

“Well, you have my big brother’s wife to thank for that,” Klaus told her, nodding at Eternity.

The female hybrid blinked rabidly at the other couple. “Wife? You got married in amnesia land, Elijah? Sounds like you’ve lived a happy life,” she spoke to him, as if his amnesiac state was in the past.

“I’m still in amnesia land actually,” he replied with a polite smile. “I have no idea who you are, only that you are apparently part of a family I can’t remember either.”

“I see,” Hayley said awkwardly.

Her husband piped up then with gratitude on his tongue, “Elijah’s wife defeated the Hollow, freeing my siblings and I, as well as the world, of it’s wickedness. She even helped to locate you, darling. We owe her a great debt.”

Elijah took his wife’s hand in his, holding on tightly, as they looked at each other with pride. 

“Well, thank you...er...,” the female hybrid trailed off.

“I’m Eternity,” the shimmering woman introduced herself, “and you’re welcome.”

With the conversation coming to a close, the quartet made their way out. 

As they did, Klaus mentioned how Greta’s death wasn’t the end of their troubles - that there were others that would declare it war and come for them all. It worried Hayley and even Elijah, though he didn’t remember these people. 

Eternity, on the other hand, remained neutral. “I’m sure you can handle things, Nik. You are the big bad hybrid. These enemies are nothing you cannot handle.”

“Wait. You are incredibly powerful and yet, you’re not going to help?” Hayley asked her with a deep, confused frown, as she pulled everyone to a stop in the overgrown front yard.

The ethereal beauty looked at Elijah with a soft smile and shrugged slightly as she turned back to the other female, “I made a promise to my husband. What I do from here is completely up to him.”

The brunette’s frown only deepened, “What does that mean?”

“It means that if my brother so chooses, they will go back to their quiet little life in the French countryside,” Klaus answered. “He came with his wife, so that she could rid the world of the a Hollow and safe you from your death. Now that’s complete, Elijah gets to choose his path: to go and live as an amnesiac for the rest of his days or to remain here and return to his old existence.”

All eyes fell upon the older Original, who shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. He supposed he did have a rather large decision to make. He simply didn’t know which path to take. On one hand, he had enjoyed his life in the countryside, happily ever after with a wife he loved so completely he couldn’t imagine life without her. However, on the other hand, Elijah was also very drawn to these familiar strangers, these people he had once cared for so deeply. 

“Perhaps we will stay for a night or two, until my husband makes his choice,” Eternity suggested, seeing how torn he was over this most important decision that would define the rest of his immortal life. “Come. Let us return to the Mikaelson Compound.”

From there, the four of them did as Eternity had said and returned to the place that had once been Elijah’s home. Being in that place was like being trapped in a hazy dream, where things were familiar, but one couldn’t recall why. He found himself surrounded by ghosts of memories he couldn’t quite reach, that were on just the edge of his mind and wouldn’t come into focus.

It was maddening as it was intriguing. He wanted to remember, but that the same time, he didn’t. 

Then the Original found himself surrounded by a loving family, who celebrated the safe return of one of their own, as well as welcomed a new member in his wife. Seeing them all together, happy and full of love for each other, made his decision for him. 

Within a mere few hours of being back in New Orleans, Elijah pulled Eternity off to the side, during the celebration, and told her, “Sweetheart, I want you to give me back my memories.”

“Are you sure?” She immediately responded, knowing how much he had wanted to remain in France before. “Is this what you truly want?”

Without hesitation, he nodded, “Yes, I’m sure. I want this. I want to know.”

To Be Continued....

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Tag List: @elejah-wonderland​ @inmylifeilovedthemall​ @dendrite-lover​ @missnmikealson​ @xanderling​ @esclisa​ @freshsuitcasewinnereagle​ @elizamonet​ @lalabluues​ 

[silyabeeodess]

AHIT Headcanons: Subcon and Spirits

Since I’m hitting pause on “The Firelands” for just a bit and haven’t come up with enough plot ideas to dump a bunch more stories into “Tales of the Fire Spirits” at once, I’m doing this to organize my thoughts for the overarching stories I may cover in the future.  I’ve been getting tons of questions on FFN on the way the world in these fanfics work, so I figured this would be a good way to try to tie off some things in a neat bow for me to reference later and in case I don’t get the chance to cover them in the future.  With the inclusion of things such as Moonjumper’s character or the fire spirits, which were either cut content or we don’t have much background info on, I might make a few adjustments or more original expansions; however, I will try to do so keeping as close to canon as I can or with historical/folklore references in mind.  I might not cover all that I do in the fics, but if you’re interested, please check it out below:

Spirits and the Spiritual Plane

The world of AHIT has multiple planes of reality, the two which merge/overlap the most being the physical and spiritual realms.  The physical realm covers the world at large which mortals live in and engage with.  For the spirits, it’s vice-versa.  However, a lot of spirits live at points at which these two realms crossover and can even allow mortals to step over that line from these locations.  

Spirits found at these points often have strong ties to the physical world as well, such as the elementals.  They use their magic to bend the physical plane at these locations to create an ideal environment for them to thrive in (ex. The fire spirits have the Firelands).  The forces used to manifest them create reality-bending whirlpools of spiritual magic that also keep them hidden from mortals. So, while a mortal may see indicators of where their borders start, they can’t actually tell where they’re going upon entry and will just loop back out.  This also works in reverse if a spirit takes a mortal to their domain and doesn’t want them to leave.  Only mortals “marked” by the spirits or those with special tools/abilities can freely pass through these barriers on their own.

There are several of these points scattered throughout the world and they’re all different depending on the spirits who reside in them.  They can also shift if the spirits need to adjust their territories for any reason (rare, but not impossible when strong magic is involved).  Subcon has the most out of any location on the planet thanks to the forest possessing an incredibly high concentration of magic, which attracts a lot of spirits--and only increases the area’s spiritual forces even more.

The Horizon is a unique place out of all of these points, existing closest to the actual spiritual realm, but still accessible in the physical world through magical waypoints/objects.

Overall, a mortal being can typically only fight back against them when they possess spiritual magic.  This is common for ghosts, to varying degrees, but the people of Subcon in general were born with some concentration of it, the land itself infusing them with that power.  Not to say that they always access it or even always can, but it’s there.  This phenomena can also occur for individuals who face prolonged exposure (in years) to spiritual magic.  

All spirits have their own ways of life, so no two species are alike and many rival with each other.  All they really have in common is a stubbornness that their ways are the best.  While some species are friendly to mortals and have good intentions, it doesn’t always mean that they’ll do the right thing--or even understand what the right thing is--either due to having a vastly different perspective on life and varying degrees of sentience.

Subcon History/Culture

Living alongside the spirits for as long as anyone can remember, much of Subcon’s ways are steeped in tradition and folklore.  Long before Vanessa and her prince were even born, the people of Subcon worked together with the spirits to help the forest thrive and protect it from malevolent forces.  As such, the spirits who resided there often openly travelled through the village(s) or lived with humans.  The royal families not only led their people, but helped lead the spirits as well so that everyone could prosper.  There was some feuds and rivalries always existed, but things were good.  As generations passed and increased trade outside of Subcon opened up a new world for the humans, however, those ties began to slowly sever and traditions ebb away.

The masks the people of Subcon wore were a way of protecting children from the spirits.  Based on the spirits themselves, it was believed that they could frighten them off or confuse them into thinking that the children were other spirits.  They were also often imbued with a bit of spiritual power to help them see and interact with things they normally couldn’t in the physical world.  Some other areas outside of Subcon had the same tradition, and many of the Dwellers still wear them as both a way to honor their past and against the chance of evil spirits still pursuing them in death.  Masquerade balls and similar celebrations were also popular.

A mortal with a high spiritual power--be it from birth or from being affected by a spirit’s magic--stands at the risk of effectively becoming spirits themselves.  Some might die prior to this process, but it’s more like a transformation.  As such, those people remain trapped in the physical world until they either A.) move on, like a normal, lost soul, or B.) are killed in a fashion similar to the spirits.  This process occurs when the spiritual power inside a person consumes them, be it by conscious choice, overusing their magic, or if more magic than their physical bodies could handle tore them apart from the inside out.   

The people of Subcon were often raised with the idea to be kind, but wary around each of the spirits: To treat them well and remain polite, but never let themselves be taken advantage of or led into dangerous places.  They were also quick to warn travelers of the same, those who failed to do so often having to deal with the spirits themselves according to the latter’s own view of propriety/justice.

Most of the powerful spirits are also prideful and hard in their ways.  It was difficult for the royal families to work with them at times and ambassadors were needed.  The ones they struggled with the most were the swamp spirits, who would at some point isolate a part of Subcon for themselves and take vengeance against anyone who trespassed there.

For a while, Subcon actually had multiple rulers as it covered a wide terrain that was often also cut apart by the spirits’ territories. Everyone was really hopeful when the prince and Vanessa got together, as they believed it meant that all of Subcon would unite and lead to a golden era. They loved them and how they truly would meet their subjects on-level, especially the prince, so they thought the two would bring some of Subcon’s glory days back in full-swing.

When Vanessa’s cursed ice storm hit, it devastated all of Subcon.  Not only did it kill most of the Dwellers, it also ripped apart a lot of the spirits’ territories--immediately severing ties with pretty much all of them.  The only thing that kept most of the spirits’ wrath at bay was her own people being killed in the process.  

This, however, came with its own dangers.  That large amount of devastation and death all at once, fueled further by the cursed magic, lingering souls, and all of the negative emotions they carry with them, created a dark miasma that blanketed over Subcon. This miasma constantly attracts wicked spirits who want that power for themselves--and to claim a few souls along the way.  It’s caused a massive power struggle, with even some of the spirits who already lived in the forest eventually fighting to expand for the sake of their lost territories. Without Snatcher, most of the Dwellers would be at the mercy of those spirits.  

Snatcher and Moonjumper

Rather than take the spirit vs. body route, I’d like to treat them as two halves of the same soul forcibly cleaved apart.  (We see both Vanessa’s and her prince’s bodies alter in their storybook, so parts of their deaths and missing corpses I’m chalking up to the spiritual magic already present inside them messing with their physical selves.)  In essence, after the prince--finally decided on a name for him, Alistair--died, his soul carved itself apart as a means of survival from his broken state of mind.  Not only did he still carry the grief and confusion over what happened with Vanessa, but also a massive sense of guilt for what happened to the people of Subcon.  One part of him fought to retain his own innocence and the person he was prior to these events: One part of him loathed himself and wanted to strip all of that away, cursing his choices and blaming himself for Subcon’s destruction.  Thus, two beings were born from the prince, each getting their wish: Moonjumper forgot about Vanessa and what happened between them, disappearing into the Horizon, while Snatcher hardened himself and chose to become someone new, someone powerful and viscous enough to never let anything like that happen to him or his kingdom again.  

While both of them are strong enough to manifest in a more human/humanoid form, they each gave up on it as a side effect of the split.  Snatcher took the physical shape of the shadowy horror he wanted to be so people wouldn’t know he was the prince while Moonjumper actually kept some pieces of his old belongings: The monocle and mask.  The mask was originally a normal, venetian half-moon mask that he would’ve worn for celebrations/traditions as the prince, but it’s now meshed with his ghost form.  It doesn’t make expressions, but has basically taken over his whole head.  While it can be removed, he’ll go into a full-blown rage if it’s taken without his consent.  Removing it will force him to shapeshift his face back to normal.  Snatcher is the better shapeshifter, but his current form is also dictated by his forced persona.

To the Dwellers and minions, Snatcher is just another spirit that showed up one day and took things over.  Some of them might be suspicious, but no one would dare ask and he’s not going to tell them.  There are different rumors (about the prince being killed and just not returning as a ghost, that Vanessa still has the prince somewhere in her manor, or that the prince fled Subcon like his parents did when the storm spread to their place), but a handful of them believe--and Snatcher thinks they all believe--that the prince abandoned them when they needed him most or that he wasn’t strong enough to stand against Vanessa, ice powers or no.  It’s not a fair judgement, but it’s still there--especially for souls like the florist, who hold a personal grudge.  

Snatcher doesn’t actually eat souls, but he can capture them.  It’s more of a threat he just built around his reputation.  The souls he captures are either forced to work for him or are imprisoned, sometimes used in experiments or for weapons like the cherry bombs.  The contracts he makes people sign make it easier for him to bind others’ souls to him, but it also serves a double-purpose: It forces him to keep all relationships strictly to business, as just something on paper rather than anything meaningful. 

By the point of the game and outside of his concern for his subjects, Snatcher’s bought his own line completely.  He really is terrible and wholly devoted to the “evil spirit” charade he’s been putting on for years.  Part of it too though is that, as a ghost, his sense of mortality has shifted.  He and everyone around him is already dead, so killing people really doesn’t hold that much weight to him anymore because “hey, I can just take their soul, so it’s not like they’re gone for good.”  He just knows it still matters to the living and he can lord that over them.  Hat Kid’s gonna break him out of that a bit, but not by much at a time and he’ll always be a grump.

Can’t talk about Moonjumper without the Horizon, so here goes: The place still acts as a kind of limbo, but it’s fabricated as a place of spiritual healing. It’s a place for mortal souls to go to clear off whatever baggage they’re still carrying before moving on to the afterlife and spirits like it too.  Some, in fact, never leave--by choice or otherwise.  A goat found one of the entrances thanks to the Twilight Bell, and since then he and his descendants have taken the roles of healers and beings of spiritual enlightenment upon death, with a part of the realm “ruled” by themselves.  Moonjumper’s still the main ruler though, able to exude the most power over the Horizon and distort its reality.  Overall though, he’s isolated himself in his own section of it to fabricate an area that somewhat resembles past-Subcon.  And his method of healing... isn’t the best.  You know how some say “ignorance is bliss?” A part of him took that to heart, so one of the ways he uses his strings is to rewrite memories.  This overwrite makes it so that a soul can’t move on, as whatever was actually affecting them never truly got healed and is just contained somewhere inside them, so he usually then takes them in as a content subject.

Early on, Moonjumper came back to the real Subcon a handful of times in secret, because there’s still a small part of him that does want to move forward and misses everything.  Nevertheless, all this really did was attract a few dissenters from the Dwellers, ones that saw him and immediately believed he was “the prince” (even if they don’t know the full story).  They followed him back to the Horizon, hoping to get answers or to convince him to stay in Subcon, but he wouldn’t listen. Having shut out the worst of his memories, he refuses to listen to anyone that tries to destroy the new “reality” he’s created.  Anyone who pushes it to his breaking point end up facing the full-force of his strings, possessed so that they’re made to play a role in his delusion.  In effect, those Dwellers who followed him had their memories of the real Subcon wiped and think that they’re home.  Trying to break free from their part not only “physically” hurts them thanks to the strings, but amplifies the emotions tied to their repressed memories.  

Sometimes he’ll also try to fill “gaps” among his subjects. If he feels like something’s missing and someone shows up to the Horizon who can fit that role, he’ll try to coerce or use his strings on them to get them to stay.

The goats know he’s messed up in the head, but they also don’t think he’s a bad person. Outside of his outbursts, he really does try to be a kind, just leader: They just know that his “good intentions” are also coming from a place of selfishness and are hurting people.  And the one thing they don’t know is how to fix him when he’s constantly rejecting help.  So they tend to keep back and focus their energy on looking after anyone else who enters the Horizon, hoping one day he’ll come to his senses enough to let himself heal. 

Vanessa

Vanessa is still her old, insane self as in the game.  The idea behind her past though is that--while the prince was actually raised to be a good, responsible ruler--Vanessa was raised by strict parents who expected her more to play a part and spoiled her rotten.  They wanted her to be a perfect, little princess, so they gave her everything she wanted while simultaneously drilling this idea in her head of the life she was expected to have.  It ended up taking things too far, as Vanessa’s ideas of what a princess should be ended up relying almost completely on stories and fairytales, and with her life pretty much getting handed to her at every stop, she fully accepted that those fairytales would be her reality.  Anything that broke the illusion didn’t belong, and she had a habit of immediately lashing out when things didn’t go the way she wanted them to.  When things were “perfect,” she was perfect--and it was what most of the villagers saw.  When things didn’t go right, well... 

When Vanessa’s magic took over her, she became something similar to a yuki-onna (snow woman).  As such, she shares the strengths and weaknesses of them, such as freezing her victims and taking their lifeforce.  The main, notable difference is that heat doesn’t affect her as much as it would a common yuki-onna, alluding to her incredibly strong magic and former humanity. 

The servants and guards who catered to Vanessa were groomed specifically to follow her whims, loyalty to the crown always standing over loyalty to the people or their own ideals.  These souls--even those killed by Vanessa’s storm--would later possess the statues in Subcon.  Most of them are headless for two reasons: So they can’t spy on Snatcher and his minions and because his minions are pretty angry over how “mindless” those souls behave, so they lopped their heads off. They mostly get by with their hearing and a sixth sense that allows them to feel the environment around them.  They continue to serve Vanessa, whether by still acting as guards/soldiers or obtaining anything she desires from the outside world.  

The Florist

Because I brought her up once already and now I feel obligated.  So, prior to the storybook events, she was just another, normal citizen.  She supported the prince and princess and wanted to see the kingdom thrive under their care.  However, after the prince was locked away, Vanessa also wanted to take revenge on the woman who “stole him from her.”  That same evening, she sent guards to kill the florist in secret. They dragged her off to the swamp and drowned her, hoping to pin her death on the swamp spirits.

Unfortunately for the guards, the swamp spirits also have their own watchmen and they were killed immediately after for trespassing.  When they found the woman’s body, they could tell her soul was still clinging on. She desperately wanted to know what happened and why.  It’s not the first time something like that had happened, so they just waited for her soul to do whatever it would and imprisoned her (also as a trespasser), breaking the news that villagers had been slaughtered not long after her with the swamp spirits believing both royal families had abandoned their people.  It left her a furious, vengeful spirit, hateful toward both the princess for the massacre and the prince for seemingly doing nothing to stop it. 

For years, she’d remain the swamp spirit’s prisoner; however, she’d eventually fall on good enough terms with them to rise in their ranks and become something of a jailor herself.  She hardly ever comes to the surface, staying in the depths of their realm, but often takes control over any other lost souls that find themselves there.  She has to remain strict and judges fairly, but she’s also treats them better than the swamp spirits would without her around.  

Common Spirits in Subcon

Fire Spirits: 

These always take the form of a fox and are some of the more animalistic of the spirits, relying heavily on instinct.  The older these spirits get, however, the more they learn human language and behaviors in order to interact with mortals.  In past-Subcon, they freely roamed and engaged with the villagers, sometimes as tricksters and sometimes helping them out.  (The background for them takes a combination of lore behind kitsune, phoenixes, will-o-wisps, and brownies.)   

Throughout their lifespans, these spirits build up a constantly burning fire that makes up their core.  When they’re effectively ready to burst, they conduct a ritual by building up a massive flame and dancing around it (possibly for days at a time) in hopes of combusting so they can revive anew.  The barriers they create are there to protect them as the ritual takes place, the elders undergoing it unable to stop once it’s begun while the young find materials (hopefully, full of living energy) to burn.  A successful ritual gives the spirits enough energy upon combustion to be reborn back in their own territory and possibly duplicate. 

Older spirits have a strong magic and physical body, but the younger ones (especially newborns) are incredibly weak.  They need constant sustenance to grow healthy and can be snuffed out easily.  If they’re snuffed out in this weakened state, they won’t be reborn.  However, if one is killed at an older stage, there’s still a chance for them to come back--albeit, they’ll be ever weaker than normal and struggle through rebirth.    

Swamp Spirits:

Swamp spirits can appear graceful or even beautiful in their own domain, but look fairly grotesque on dry land. They’re a kind of fish-people and are the most humanlike out of the spirits in Subcon.  They also have the longest running feud between the Dwellers and other spirits, keeping themselves isolated in their underwater realm and taking a long while to get used to outsiders.  

After Vanessa’s storm hit they tried to expand their swamp, knowing that other spirits would soon prey upon Subcon anyway if they didn’t and wanting to strengthen their territories before that happened.  They got fairly far until Snatcher pushed them back, almost to their original boundaries. 

All surface-dwellers are just ‘Dwellers’ to them: It doesn’t matter if they’re from Subcon or not.  It takes a lot for a dweller to earn their respect and most them are quick to judge. The best way to get on their good side quickly is to appeal to their ego without demeaning yourself in the process.    

Spider Spirits:

(based on Tsuchigumos and Jorogumos) While the giant spiders in Subcon and the Alpine Skylines are just that, it can be assured that there’s at least one spirit commanding them, waiting back at their nests.  These are particularly ruthless and wait for hapless victims to fall into hands, although they’re more interested in the living than mortal souls.  

Giant Skeletons:

(based on Gashadokuros) These rare, but dangerous spirits were attracted to the dark miasma clinging to Subcon and cause havoc for every being wherever they go.  While virtually brainless, they feed on negative forces left from the dead.  Snatcher was strong enough to take out several, and their remains are scattered throughout the forest in a dormant state until all of that energy eventually burns out of them.  

Lightning Sprites:

Sprites aren’t typically seen in the mortal realm, but these give off such a powerful glow that they can be found relatively easily--not in their own forms, but by the element they’re associated with. In the sky or in stormy weather, they can appear as the natural ‘sprite’ phenomena, but around land--specifically around areas that produce high amounts of electricity and/or have things such as powerlines--they have a yellow glow.  You can’t really spot them in any way beyond an electric current and their high-pitched noises, and while harmless overall beyond the occasional bit of mischief, they can certainly give you quiet a shock.    

(There are others, not to mention vengeful souls, but that’s all I got so far.  Might update later as more comes to mind.)

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

김원필, Kim Wonpil

anonymous asked:

List #2 , 11 and 13 with wonpil from day6 x

Group: DAY6 (데이식스)

Member: Wonpil

Prompts: “Don’t you dare throw that snowball—Damn it!”, “Kiss me”. 

(A/N): Read this while listening to Goodbye Winter by DAY6. It’s hecka aesthetic and kinda adds a deeper feeling to it, I think.

.

.

.

You tapped your foot to the beat of the song you were listening to, softly humming along. It had always been somewhat therapeutic to listen to music while you cooked. 

Especially during dinner time. It was dark, chilly, quiet and a little lonely without Wonpil there to cling to your side and pester you about what you were making. 

You thought he’d been working too hard recently. Too many hours spent at the company and not enough resting. You thought he might’ve felt a bit of pressure on himself. He was the only member of the group with a girlfriend, so he felt like he had to work harder than everyone else.

Why, you weren’t sure. Probably so that people wouldn’t doubt his ability to have the best of both worlds. But little did he know, it was still making both sides of his life suffer. 

His work-life suffered because sometimes he was so exhausted and out of it, he couldn’t tell a sharp from a flat. His love-life suffered because he didn’t know yet how to balance well between his responsibilities. 

Sometimes, he was so touchy, always wanting to be with you, but then, like a child being scolded, one thing went slightly awry and he would push himself away from you.  

Did he feel guilty for falling for you? Did he feel guilty for trying to be both performer and lover? 

You sighed, pausing your rhythmic stirring. “Love isn’t a sin, baby,” you whispered, as if he could miraculously hear you. 

Your music was interrupted by a text notification. Switching the stove off and wiping your hands on your jeans, you checked it. 

From: Future Husband (Pencil)

Can you come over and walk home with me...? 

I only have about half an hour left. 

You smiled at the text. He still thought about you, despite how tired he’d been.

‘Well, I’m actually making dinner...’ you typed your reply. ‘But I’ll make an exception for you, ‘cause you’re cute.’  

You slipped on your shoes and a thick jacket, trekking out into the cold winter night. You shuddered as soon as you stepped out, a snowflake drifting down onto your nose. 

“I should’ve grabbed gloves,” you muttered. You shrugged it off, locking the door behind you and burrowing your already cold hands into your lined pockets. 

Sungjin clapped his hands, gaining everyone’s attention. “I think we can finish up for the night,” he said. He gave them all a thumbs up and a smile. “You all did well!” 

Brian playfully rolled his eyes. “You’re like the dad that’s trying too hard to fit in with his kids.” 

“I am not!” 

Jae chimed in while he packed away his guitar, “You kinda are, Bob.” 

Wonpil ignored their bickering, focusing on folding away his keyboard, though he was rushing a little.

“Why’re you in such a hurry?” Dowoon chuckled.  

He wrapped up the cord, tossing it into the closet. “I just have somewhere to be, is all,” he answered cryptically. 

The youngest thought for a moment before an epiphany occurred, like a light-bulb getting switched on. “Your wife’s picking you up!”

This got everyone’s attention. 

“Ohhh,” Jae started mischievously, “the wifey’s coming to pick up the hubby!” His tone was teasing and sent blood rushing straight to Wonpil’s ears, which is what the older boy wanted, of course. “How domestic.” 

“She’s not my wife...” Wonpil grumbled. 

Brian snickered. “But you wish she was!” he sang. 

“Leave him alone,” Sungjin sighed, smacking his shoulder. He gave the pianist a soft smile. “Go meet your girl. She’s probably waiting.” 

He nodded, grateful to their leader. “Will do.” He mouthed a short ‘thanks’ as he breezed past.  

You stared up at the night sky, snowflakes falling onto your cheeks and then melting. “Not many stars tonight,” you mused. You kept glancing toward the doors of the company, hoping he’d come out soon. Your fingernails were blue. “I really should’ve brought gloves.” 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you spotted a familiar mop of floppy hair. 

“Wonpil!” you called, a grin spreading across your features. 

He turned to you, smiling just as brightly. “Baby!” he giggled, jogging up to you and pulling you into a hug. “Thanks for coming,” he whispered. 

“Of course,” you said. You started wrapping your arms around him in return, but he yelped and jerked away before you could fully reach. You stared at him with wide eyes. “Babe? Are you okay?” 

His jaw was left hanging open. “Your hands are freezing!” he gaped. 

You stared down at your hands. “Oh, yeah,” you sighed. You shrugged, flashing him a smile. “I did it on purpose.” He gave you a questioning look. “So that way, you’d have no choice but to hold my hand!” You held your shivering hands out to him.

His expression dropped a little as he wrapped you in his warmth. 

“Hey,” you started, trying to read the message within his eyes, “you okay?” 

He shook his head solemnly. “I’m sorry I made you come out here in the snow for me. It was selfish.” 

You almost snorted. “What are you even talking about?” 

He looked up at you, sad puppy eyes and all. “You’re freezing because of me.” 

“Because of me!” you laughed. “I missed you so much, I didn’t even grab a freakin’ pair of gloves!” You took back control of your fingers, tickling his sides and making him giggle and try to wrestle away from you. “I was too desperate to see my man, so I have no one to blame but myself.” 

His cheeks were painted a lovely shade of red. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the chilly air or the praise. “I’m glad that you missed me,” he finally said. “I missed you, too.” He frowned. “I still feel bad, though...” 

You sighed, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. A snowflake falling against your palm gave you a genius idea. You crouched to the ground, gathering up fluffy whiteness into your ice-cold hands. 

He furrowed his brow. “What are you doing...?” he trailed off, eyes widening in realization. “Don’t you dare throw that snowball—” Too late. “Damn it!” 

You laughed hysterically, slapping your hands against your thighs. “Your face!” you chortled, body threatening to topple over. “Oh my gosh, that was priceless!” 

He huffed childishly, a pout on his lips. “You better run,” he said, “because I’m not gonna go easy on you!” 

Suddenly, it was a chase. 

A chase through Seoul in the middle of the night, the snow crunching under your feet and your laughter and hushed screaming echoing through the streets. Neither of you seemed to really care if you awoke the entire city. 

After some time, he caught you in a back hug, throwing you both off-balance and tossing you into a giggling mess on a snow drift. 

You both listened to each other’s laughing die off, just staring into each other���s eyes. So full of life and promise. 

You took a deep breath, leaning your foreheads against each other. “I want to marry you one day,” he whispered with a chuckle. “But how am I supposed to do that when I can barely handle your spirit as my girlfriend?” 

You gave him a soft kiss on his jaw. “We’ll both work hard, I guess.” You heard him mumble something. “What was that?” you asked.

“Kiss me,” he said again, louder. “For real.”

You chuckled at his antics. “Fine, then.” 

So, in the snow, under the street lights, you shared a gentle kiss with the person you loved, feeling warmth spread through both of your bodies, like a promise to stay together for a long, long time that went straight down to you bones.

Was it just you, or did the stars seem to shine more brightly? 

.

.

.

I am: soft. 

Thanks for this, Anon. I felt massive gentle feels, and I’m grateful for it. 

Feel free to stop by anytime!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

The Ghost Whisperer

TW: Major character death (via suicide), some blood mention, and emotional stuff lies ahead.

..................

Over the course of the next several months, there have been a lot of tears, yelling, and anguish of all kinds throughout the household.

On that dreadful April day, a brother, a vlogger, and beloved father of two, was found in his dead recording room. A pool of blood surrounded his head, trickling from an open wound in the side of his head, along with a gun stained in red laying in the palm of his already pale and cold hand.

No one could have known that this would happen. But even as Henrik, Marvin, and Anti used their abilities to do every possible thing that they could to save him....it was already far too late.

For a long time the good doctor couldn’t come to terms with it. He’s saved his own creator from a fatal throat wound, and yet...despite an extensive surgery and careful extraction of the bullet, it couldn’t save Chase.

He had kept himself locked up in his office after that, trying to understand what he did wrong and how he missed the signs. Anyone who entered was immediately screamed at to get out.

But when you stepped in and brought him a glass of water..that’s when he finally cracked and sobbed into your arms for a long while. Such a simple and benign gesture reminded him that Chase used to look after his well-being, even on days where he neglected his own.

Only then did Henrik stop isolating himself from you and the rest of his family.

Jack felt like it was somehow his fault that he made his ego drive to that point, although you were swift to reassure him that nobody blamed him for the incident. When the other egos told him the same thing and surrounded him in hugs, he held onto them and cried for a while, bringing you into the embrace as well.

From there on, everyone focused on healing and helping one another through the horrific time.

Fast forward to now, when Jack brought up that the studio where Chase recorded “Bro Average” was a mess. But nobody wanted to clean it because the memories were still a bit too painful to bear. Anti had gone in there for only ten seconds and he was already on his knees sobbing when you went to check up on him.

They all had such a strong emotional bond with one another, and that was tethered to the community as well, who had equally mourned for an ego who they all loved but was gone too soon. Since the men could feel that pain, too, you knew that moving on was incredibly difficult for them.

It was hard for you and Jack, too, but one day you decided to go into the room and do the cleaning, since you knew it’s what Chase would’ve wanted. You even offered to gather some of his personal belongings and put them into a box for his brothers to keep.

They felt a bit bad that none of them were up to the task, although you reassured them that they still needed time to heal. And that was perfectly okay.

So when they all went to sleep, and you did, too, although you got up bright and early in the morning. After getting dressed and retrieving a drink, cleaning supplies, and a box, you headed to the studio and got right to work.

.............

“Ugh..how lovely.” With a sigh, you scrubbed the chocolate stains out of the carpet the best you could, remembering how Chase used to do little stunts with the candy eggs in celebration of Easter.

They were never picked up and eventually melted down with the rays of sun that occasionally seeped into the room. But you managed to make the stains almost disappear completely.

“Whew..” You stood up and rubbed your forehead, already feeling it grow a bit sweaty.

On the table you had a box with stuff from Chase’s room and this studio, including his Nerf gun, which had been cleaned thoroughly, his watch, some bracelets, tea boxes, and a picture frame of his families: with Stacy and his kids, and you and the egos.

But the strangest thing was that no matter where you looked...you couldn’t find his signature hat. You knew it wasn’t buried along with him, and yet you weren’t able to find it in his room nor in the studio.

Maybe when the others woke up you can ask them about it-

“[Y/n]..?”

Tensing up, you turned around and blinked in surprise upon seeing a pale version of Chase. He had his hat on, which had a tear on the side of his head; that was completely stained in red, trailing down his neck.

It was then you remembered your ability to see ghosts. But not in the transparent, floating, spirit forms like Marvin had told you about. Instead your gift allowed you to see and feel them in their corporeal forms.

For some reason, though, they only appeared to you whenever they had trouble with moving on...although for now you were just so relieved to see Chase after all this time and just wanted to talk to him after not seeing any signs of his presence for months.

Immediately you set down everything and smiled, tears coming to your eyes as you walked towards him. “Chase..I’m...I’m so happy to see you again.” You hugged him tightly, and he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

“I-I’m sorry..” His chest trembled as you felt tears soaking onto your skin. But you just carded a hand through his hair tenderly, ignoring the wetness on one side of it. He could only sob softly at the gesture, holding you tighter. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..I was so fucking stupid a-and..and I just-”

“Shhh, shhh..” You hushed him softly, although at this point you were both just crying in each other’s arms, so relieved to see one another.

Once you had calmed down, you pulled out of the hug and looked at him, wiping away a tear that fell down his cheek. “So..you’ve been haunting the room all this time?”

He nodded. “Y-Yeah..I’ve been..just doing my trickshots. Marvin probably didn’t even sense my presence..”

“I’m afraid not.” You frowned as you both sat down on the floor. “Everyone avoided this room like the plague. They just...they’re still having such a difficult time processing your..passing. Anti didn’t even last a minute in here without breaking down.”

“R-Really?” Chase sniffled, cracking a smile. “Even that asshole misses me?”

“Of course he does,” you told him, smiling as well. “He really did try his best to save you that day.”

“I thought you would be more..pissed off.”

Looking up at him, you blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I didn’t show myself until now..b-because I thought everyone would be angry with me and screaming.” He bit his lower lip, bowing his head. “I know I fucked up and...and I regret it with every inch of my..afterlife. But I can’t change the past. A-And I didn’t want to just...leave you all. So I stayed hidden. Lowkey I was expecting you to slap me instead of hug me when I appeared to you..”

“Chase..” You sighed as you took his hands into yours. “No one is angry with you. We’re all just..lost and confused. Like something was missing.”

He gazed at you once more, although the nervous look was replaced with a determined one, making you tile your head to the side in confusion.

“When everyone wakes up, tell them to meet us in the living room. I think I know what’s missing.”

...........

Once everyone had woken up and finished their daily morning routines, you beckoned them all into the living room, having them sit down on the couch. But when they saw you bring out a box with Chase’s stuff and set it on the coffee table, they all looked at you with expression of confusion, sadness, and heartache.

“Is this..all of his stuff?” Jack was the first to ask as he took the box and set it in his lap, staring down at the name “CHASE” written in marker. Then he looked up at you, eyebrows furrowing. “Thanks for this, [y/n]. I guess..we should figure out what to do with-”

However, he heard Marvin’s breath hitch and looked to see him staring at something in the corridor with wide eyes.

“Vhat are you looking at?” Henrik glanced at the seemingly empty hallway in confusion.

“I-It’s Chase..his spirit...” Marvin looked back at you. “Y-You see him, too?”

“He appeared to me this morning,” you said. “He wanted me to gather you all here. He believes that..seeing you all of here at once will help him finally rest. Up to now he was too scared to show himself, but...he’s feeling brave now.”

You saw Chase and smiled sadly at him. He nodded his head and leaned against the wall.

Tears welled in Henrik’s eyes. “I-Is..zhere a vay ve could see him?”

“Yes. Just give me a moment.” Marvin cleared his throat and stood up, taking out his spellbook and waving a gloved hand around in the air. “Videre spirituum.” With a snap of his fingers, everyone in the room except you and him felt their vision changing.

“Now just..everyone close their eyes for five seconds, and then open them.”

They did just that, and once they opened their eyes again, they glanced at the corridor to see their deceased brother’s spirit. Tears sprung in most of their eyes; even Angus was having a hard time keeping himself together.

Chase walked into the room, standing in the middle and watching everyone carefully. He was worried that any sound he made would set someone off, but he felt you nudge him arm, and he sighed, clearing his throat. “H-Hey..”

But he was unable to finish what he was going to say, as he just dropped to the floor, clutching his head as his body shook with sobs. His brothers and Jack didn’t hesitate to get up and join him, surrounding him in hugs as they both cried and gave him soft reassurances, holding him as tight as they could.

Within a few minutes, they all calmed down, but they didn’t let go of each other. Chase looked at you and beckoned you to join the hug. You smiled sadly and did just that, putting your arms around Anti and Jackie.

Then after some time longer, the group hug dispersed and everyone pulled away from each other. But you were the first to notice that Chase’s body was starting to flicker between transparency and his solid form.

“Wh-Why’s yer body doin’ that?” Anti sniffled, confused.

“I think..a group hug from his family is what he needed,” you said, looking at the ghost who nodded at you, confirming your suspicions.

“Yeah..I-I..I wish I could say more but..I guess it’s time,” he mumbled sadly. “But hey..soon I’ll be doing trickshots on the clouds, or..wherever I’m going.”

Marvin stayed silent, although he glanced down at his hands, his palms beginning to glow. But he blinked when he saw your hand overlaying one of his own, squeezing it reassuringly. Then he looked up to see you shake your head. “It’s time for him to rest.”

“[Y/n]s right. Though..you think there’s a chance I could chat with you through one of those old Ouija boards sometime?”

The magician chuckled weakly at his brother, wiping away a tear. “M-Maybe, but..it’ll be hard not seeing your face anymore.”

“I’ll always be there,” Chase said, looking at his brothers and Jack. “Even when you can’t see me.” He noticed his hands were turning invisible, and he looked back at all of you. “Th-Thank you guys..and thank you, [y/n]..” Tears filled his eyes as he smiled. “Say hi to my kids for me.”

Everyone said their goodbyes, swarming him in one final group hug as his entire body faded away, his “thank you”s echoing until they became silent.

But even then, you all still hugged each other close, sharing smiles and tears, knowing that he was finally at peace.

[alyas-ladyblog]

A Not So Brief Hiatus P.5

First Previous Next

Ao3

Hey! Sorry for the delay. Here’s the update for ANSBH! Hope yall enjoy. As always likes/reblogs are always appreciated!

Alya choked on her tea.

“Rena? As in Rena Rouge?” She squeaked. “Sorry you got the wrong girl. I’m way too busy with my siblings and the Ladyblog to be–“

Fu raised his hand. “It’s alright Alya. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Alya sputtered. “There is no secret! I’m not Rena Rouge!”

Fu chuckled.

What tipped him off? Was it her voice? Her look? Did he just say it as a joke but her horrible poker face it away? Oh Ladybug was going to be horrified.

Fu cleared his throat.

“You can come out now,” he said. “It’s just Rena and I, her friend is in the kitchen.”

Alya looked around. “Who are you–“

An orange blur flew out of the phonograph, and buzzed around her head, coming to a stop in front of her face. It booped her nose.

“Heya kit!”

Alya’s eyes widened in shock. Floating by her nose was Trixx, face split with his signature cheeky grin.

“Trixx? What are you doing here?”

“Fu is an old friend of mine,” Trixx said, zipping over to the old man and sitting on his shoulder. “We’ve been friends for well over a century.”

Alya looked back and forth between the kwami and Fu.

She crossed her arms.

This was just like Trixx. He constantly tried to pull a fast one over her. And she’d only been a temporary holder! She couldn’t imagine what a permanent holder would have to go through.

“Trixx I know you’re joking. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Alas, he’s not,” Fu said.

Trixx stuck his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes.

“Trixx and I have been friends since I was a boy,” Fu began. “I’m a member of The Order of the Guardians, an order dedicated to protecting, distributing and retrieving the miraculous jewels, as well as guiding those who hold a miraculous.”

He sighed. “I’m the last of my order,” he said sadly. “And as such, I’ve been so focused on protecting the miraculous, that I have let the other tasks take the back burner. Ladybug distributes the other miraculouses and retrieves them, and I have not made my presence known to the other holders. Until now.”

Alya’s mind raced a mile a minute as she tried to process the new information.

“So if Marinette brought me here...does she know who I am?”

Trixx coughed.

Fu took a long sip of his tea. “Your identity has not been compromised if that is what you’re asking,” he said. “The only people who know your identity are Ladybug, and me.”

Alya nodded, relieved. “Okay.” She took a breath. “You said you guide miraculous holders.”

Fu nodded. “That is part of my job, yes.”

“But,” Alya swallowed. “I’m–“

“Not a miraculous holder anymore, yes.”

Fu poured more tea into his cup. “Ladybug alerted me of your decision when she returned the miraculous to my possession.” He took a long sip of his tea. “I thought there must have been some mistake. You were a wonderful Fox. But Ladybug told me that you were experiencing personal turmoil, and thought it best to retire Rena. Ladybug and Trixx respect your decision, and so will I.”

Alya chewed on her lip.

She was happy with her decision, and she knew it was the right thing to do but...being here, hearing Master Fu’s disappointment and seeing Trixx again, she missed it.

“But,” Fu continued. “I am still here to counsel you if that is something you want. My counsel–drink some of your tea, while it’s still hot–is not limited to current holders.”

Alya took a sip of her tea. “So what would we be doing?”

“Meditating mostly,” Fu admitted. “I have found that guided meditation can be extremely useful for connecting with the spirit.”

“It’s good stuff. You should see when Ladybug does it, she really gets in the zone,” Trixx aside and Fu shushed him.

Alya giggled. The mental image of Ladybug meditating was funny. Especially if she stuck her tongue out the way she did when she was concentrating.

“Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad. Anything else?”

Fu tilted his head. “Guided self reflection, perhaps some acupuncture to help with your restless mind if you’re up for it,” he said.

Alya could admit, both sounded pretty appealing.

She sat up straight. “Hey you know, Marinette would make a great Fox!”

Fu cracked a smile. “Would she now?”

Alya nodded, excited. “Yeah! She’s creative, and brave, and not afraid to stand up for what’s right. She’d be perfect for the Fox.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Fu responded. “But alas, the new Fox has already been chosen.”

Alya deflated. “Maybe another miraculous then,” she said.

Fu smiled wryly. “Perhaps. I will be sure to pass that recommendation on to Ladybug.”

Alya beamed. If she could hook her girl up with a miraculous, she knew Marinette would be amazing.

“But back to the matter at hand. I don’t expect you to decide if you want my guidance right away, but know if you ever want it, my door is always open.”

Alya nodded. “I would like your guidance,” she said.

Fu smiled. “Then let’s begin.

—

Marinette paced back and forth. “I don’t know Tikki, what if it was a bad idea to bring Alya here? What if she thinks I discovered her secret identity, or figured out I’m Ladybug and gets akumatized because I’m her best friend and didn’t tell her and then Hawkmoth knows my identity and then he begins targeting my family and friends until I’m forced to give up the earrings in order to protect the people I love? I can’t let Hawkmoth win!”

“And he won’t,” Tikki said firmly.

She popped a cookie into her mouth. “I’m sure Alya won’t find out your secret identity. And even if she did, she couldn’t be too upset with you, because she kept her identity secret from you too!”

Marinette’s paused. “But if she gets akumatized again, then Hawkmoth will know, even if I’m not the cause of it!”

“She won’t figure it out Marinette,” Tikki chirped. “Alya’s clever, but your story checks out. You did stop in during an akuma attack, and that’s when you met Master Fu! Trixx would be proud of that one,” the little god said with a smile.

Marinette sighed. “You’re right,” she said, flopping onto one of the stools. “I just can’t help but feel like something is going to go terribly wrong.”

Tikki hugged her cheek. “I’m sure everything will be fine Marinette.”

The two sat in comfortable silence, quietly munching on their cookies.

—-

“Truth or dare?”

Marinette smiled. The two had finished their homework, played some video games, and were sitting together on Marinette’s balcony.

It was only a matter of time before someone brought up truth or dare.

“Dare.”

Alya grinned. “I dare you to scream that you love Chat Noir at the top of your lungs.”

Marinette’s eyes bulged. “Alya it’s midnight. I’ll wake up my neighbors!”

Her friend grinned. “It’s Paris on a Friday night. Not even my sisters are asleep.”

Marinette chewed on her cheek.

He wasn’t the worst person to be declaring her love for but...with everything that had happened with her dad and Chat, she wasn’t so sure.

She exhaled. “Fine.”

Marinette stood up, and walked over to the railing.

She took a deep breath in.

“I LOVE CHAT NOIR!” She screamed.

A voice sounded from below.

“Me too, you’re not special!”

Marinette and Alya looked at one another.

And burst out laughing.

The two laughed so hard their ribs ached, and their eyes teared.

They laughed so hard that they gasped for air, and Alya got the hiccups, which prompted a new wave of hysterics from Marinette.

And at the end of it, Marinette was hunched over, still holding onto the railing for balance, and Alya was sprawled out on the sling chair catching her breath.

Marinette stood, and leaned back on the railing.

“Your turn.”

Alya pursed her lips. “Truth.”

Marinette grinned. “How’s it going with Nino?”

Alya’s cheeks flushed. “It’s going good,” she said with a soft smile. “We’re settling into being together, so I think we’ve been communicating better lately than we have in the past.”

She hummed.

“I’m working on being kinder to him,” Alya added. “Growing up in a big family, teasing and empty threats were a way to express affection you know? But that’s not how every relationship works, and I need to keep that in mind.”

Alya sat up in the chair. “Anyways, your turn.”

Marinette tapped her lips. As tempting as it was to try another dare, she didn’t feel like getting a citation for disturbing the peace, or doing something too stupid this late in the night.

“Truth.”

Alya chewed on her lip for a second.

“If you could be any hero in Paris, who would you be and why?”

Marinette felt her heart skip four or five beats.

She pondered for a second.

The obvious choice for most people would be Ladybug. She was the hero of creation, and a Parisian icon. But would choosing her increase the chance of Alya putting two and two together?

Chat Noir would be another good option. His baton, fun costume and power of destruction made him a force to be reckoned with. But at the same time, she couldn’t imagine anyone but Chat being the Black Cat.

Rena and Carapace were interesting, but unbalanced. Rena relied on distance and deception: the second you know she’s there, the jig is up. Carapace was almost entirely defense, which would limit her involvement in the fight.

Queen Bee...

Marinette shuddered.

Queen Bee was Chloe.

Next.

Bunnix was fun, but time paradoxes were messy and anxiety inducing.

Pegasus’ weapons and powers combined would make her a formidable foe, and a good ambush hero. But her clumsiness sometimes carries over with Ladybug, and teleporting while clumsy sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

Viperion’s ability was cool, but his weapon was a lyre.

“I think I’d have to go with Roi Singe,” Marinette said. “The powers seem cool, I love the costume, and the staff allows for both close and medium range combat.”

Alya nodded thoughtfully.

“Ok, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What did you do with Mister Fu?”

Alya sat in silence for a second, and Marinette began to panic. What if her nosiness was suspicious and Alya figured out she was Ladybug? Oh god.

“We just kind of talked,” Alya responded. “He asked me some questions, I answered them, and we kept doing that. It was actually really soothing,” she admitted.

Marinette smiled, and the pressure in her chest loosened. She was glad that Alya found Master Fu useful. Hopefully, that guidance would help her find peace.

“Your turn.”

“Truth.”

“How do you feel about Adrien? You know, with the whole Lila thing and him not backing you up.”

Marinette rubbed her neck. Wasn’t that the question of the hour.

She’d spent the better part of a month pondering that, making excuses for him and letting Lila walk all over her. Plus, Adrien was her friend. He’d never do something that would hurt her.

But seeing Alya’s reaction the other day when Marinette said Adrien knew and hadn’t bothered to back her up...

It muddied the waters a bit, validated that little voice in the back of her head that told her that what Adrien was doing wasn’t right, wasn’t fair.

That she deserved better.

“Honestly I’m conflicted,” she said finally. “Adrien’s heart is in the right place, but what he’s doing to keep the peace is hurting those around him. The promise he made that we’d be there together...I don’t think he took it seriously. I feel...a bit betrayed? I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Alya said, getting up and leaning forward on the railing near Marinette. “He broke a promise. I think you’re right, I think his heart is in the right place. But Adrien is naive,” Alya said, resting her head on Marinette’s shoulder. “He wants to see the good in people, even those who don’t deserve his kindness. What you’re feeling is valid.”

Marinette nodded.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

Marinette looked Alya dead in the eye. “What was the appeal of Lila?”