#Desiree strikes again

[bet-on-me-13]

Oliver Adopts Danny

(Note: I have no idea what exactly happened on the island and made up my own thing. Also I had no plan when making this and it shows)

...

So! When Oliver landed on that Deserted Island, he wasn't alone.

On the Island, there was a Little Kid.

He was about 7, and he was just as confused as to why he was there. Apparently he had been sleeping at home when all of a sudden he felt himself falling, and seconds later he hit the ground in the forest. He couldn't remember anything past that, or really anything before that as well. He had seemingly lost his memories.

So, Oliver was stuck helping a Random Kid while trying to survive on the island.

He did learn that the Kid was a Metahuman with the ability to make Unmelting Ice, but the kid seemed disappointed by his powers. It was like he expected them to be stronger than they were. When asked, he said that he didn't actually know why he felt that, like it was something else he had forgotten.

And that was how the situation stood for a few years. He and the Kid, who he eventually learned was named Danny, became closer. He took up a paternal role in the kids Life, trying to keep him safe from the dangers of the island.

Danny was also a huge help on the island, his Ice was useful during Hot Nights, and the fact that it was Durable and Didn't Melt made it a good material for their tools. He also knew a lot of random skills, like the basics of how to shoot a Bow and how to set up a Campfire.

By the time they had been there for 3 years, Oliver already saw Danny like a Son. He had decided long ago that when they finally left the island, he would adopt him.

Then, on the 4th Year, Oliver found something strange. There were tracks in the Dirt on the less explored side of the Island, Human Tracks.

Following them, he found the source, An Illegal Slave Trading Ring.

The Base seemed to be new, so they had probably set up shop a few weeks ago at most. He and Danny must have missed them because they didn't usually go to that side of the Island.

He returned to the Camp that night and contemplated what to do.

It took another few days for him to resolve himself to go and save those people.

It took another few weeks to prepare himself.

It took less than 30 minutes to get the Job Done.

By the end of that night, every Slaver on the island was Dead, and the slaves were set free. They still didn't have a way off the island, since a few of them had managed to sabotage the boat before they died, but Oliver and Danny were there to help them.

By the 5th Year, they basically had a Small Village set up back there their Camp used to be. It was a community of all of the people Oliver had managed to save that night, all working together to survive on that Mysterious Island.

Then one day, finally got some luck. A Fishing Boat had gotten lost on their usual Route, and had spotted the SOS Signal that they had set up on the Beach.

After that it didn't take long for everyone on the Island to be saved. Oliver asked the former slaves to keep his heroics a secret because he wanted to keep him and Danny safe from the press, and they all agreed.

So, Oliver went home and adopted Danny.

He also decided to become a Vigilante.

And then eventually he joined the Justice League.

And one day while showing his son around the newly build Watchtower he ran into Constantine, who then proceeded to ask "Why the hell do you have a mini-death god holding your hand?"

...

I have no idea what this was supposed to be. I wanted Oliver to adopt Danny, and I wanted it to be on the Island, but I had no idea how to do it.

My basic idea for it is that Danny accidently wished for a Good Dad one day and Desiree heard him. So she turned him into a Kid, sealed away most of his Powers, and sent him to the Island with no memories past age 7.

Maybe this was "Ghost King Danny"?

Idk, I like it more as "King Danny who rejects the Throne but is still basically the leader because he keeps helping people no matter what" but that's just me.

Thoughts?

[kawaiijohn]

Danny wakes up in PMMM and wants to murder the weird God cat that's bothering the kids

Ok I wanna write this

"Get back here you rat!"

The white rabbit-cat thing dodges another three of Danny's ecto rays as he races through the back halls of a mall under construction. He has no idea where he is, only that the thing he's chasing is bad news.

It has eyes not unlike the Observants, and a voice laced with double meanings. Danny didn't appreciate it staring into his soul- his Core, as though it could sense it.

The creature keeps running for its life, able to appear in places it shouldn't be near before Danny can strike it. The strange ring-like structures around its long ears seem to ring strangely when his blasts whiff the beast.

The short chase comes to an end when he hits a dead end. He skids to a stop, panting- somehow unable to summon his ghost form after the portal tossed him here. He's shocked he can even call upon any of his powers, stranger that the only one he can access are his ecto blasts. But it's not completely shocking- places outside of Amity tend to be less forgiving with their low ambient ectoplasm levels. The halls are dark, ominous- there's a tension in the air not unlike a ghost attack waiting to happen.

He doesn't like it.

Danny uses a ball of ectoplasm as a flashlight as he creeps through the more chained-off sections of the mall, a tingle creeping up his spine. He wants explanations, and the creature knows something- it has to with how it stares into Danny's soul. It's the only lead he has, and he's too stubborn to give up on it.

"You know, you would make an incredible magia- all it would take is making a contract with me."

Danny nearly screams as he whips around. The strange creature sits perched, not unlike a cat, on a construction barrier directly behind him. Its eyes stare once again into his soul, digging into his very essence. Danny's eyes dart around the dark, trying to find anything to use to his advantage. He comes up empty handed, so he does what he knows, and stands his ground.

Intimidation it is.

"I'm not stupid enough to do something for a creature that really shouldn't be able to talk. Especially if it involves contracts." Thank the Ancients Sam had a phase where she obsessed over Faustian tales and fae folklore. That and his firsthand experience with Desiree. Be careful what you wish for, and all that.

"You do seem to be someone who has had dealings before. You are one step away from being a Magia, after all." The creature appears directly next to him on a pile of equipment and grooms itself with a paw. "It would be rather easy on both our ends to embrace your full potential. All you would need to do is Wish for something- anything you desire. And you'd finish becoming what you were meant to be- a Magia."

Danny starts, jumping back with his hand glowing. He hadn't heard it approach.

"Jokes on you- I know how wishes work!" he exclaims, taking a fighting stance. "No matter what, you'd twist it into the opposite of what I want, and I'm not gonna fall for it." The ecto energy crackles in his palm, anxiety at being stared at by those beady, soulless eyes gathers in the back of his throat like acrid lightning. Or like the nerves before a test.

Danny bristles as the creature pads up to him from its perch and tilts its head.

"Interesting- although you have no contract written binding your soul, you are somehow more like magia than human. Tell me, Daniel Fenton, did you receive anything in return for the sacrifice you've made? Do you have a reason to fight the Witches wherever you hail from? Or were you granted this terrible responsibility without fair compensation- no benefit to your life for the amount of magic you expend fighting."

Danny stills and shudders, still unable to force a transformation in the low ectoplasmic atmosphere of this place.

"I simply wanted to offer my services. To help you fight, for protection- to make you feel... whole. Tell me," it looks once again into Danny's soul, unblinking, "Are you aware of how close you have wandered to a truly Hopeless being's lair?"

The walls around him shimmer with unreality, he can hear whispers of a bastardized, corrupted form of Ghost Speak echoing in his head. It physically pains him to listen. He slams his hands over his ears to drown out the noise, but it tickles the back of his brain, makes the space behind his eyes itch. His Core pulses in warning as the room shifts as though it were underwater.

"What is this?!? What are you doing?!"

"Nothing. The culprit to this disturbance is a Witch- a creature made of the despair that lives in the darkness of humanity. A being that wishes to spread misery and corruption upon the innocent." its eyes remain staring at him. "With how you are now- incomplete in your form, you will not survive should you be pulled in to this labyrinth you have wandered near."

Danny looks up from where he'd ducked his head. His Core pulses again. Whatever this thing messing with his mind is, it's similar to a ghost- but wrong. Corrupted. Evil. And yet... sad. He steels his face and glares back at the creature.

"Witches are creatures of pure darkness, they cause unexplained suicides, death, sickness, catastrophe. You are simply unable to unleash your full potential in your current form, but if you make a wish, sign a contract- you would be unstoppable."

"I don't need to be unstoppable. I can handle... whatever this witch thing is without your help- and it's not like I plan on getting caught in a labyrinth. I'd rather not fight another Minotaur."

Danny begins to walk away from the shimmering spots, but can't find the way he came. The chains hanging from the ceiling whisper with anguish.

The creature continues to follow with its blank expression.

"Suit yourself, Daniel Fenton. My services are only a call away. You'd be surprised how amicable I am to those who change their mind last minute- in fact, we encourage it."

And with that, the creature leaves.

Danny clamps his hands over his ears again. The padding of his sneakers through the endless maze of mall construction echoes hollowly through the otherwise silent back halls. "Sam would be pumped to find out the backrooms are real." He laughs joylessly. Danny has no idea how long he's been wandering, but he knows he's not lost. The mall is shifting around him as he wanders, and he knows he's being watched.

He scratches at his wrist idly.

It had started itching, right over his death scar, about fifteen minutes ago. The whispers make it itch more, and he grumbles. He's getting frustrated- usually by now the ghost watching him would have jumped out and attacked, but whatever the thing watching him is (the witch thingy most likely) is biding its time to piss him off.

Another wave of empty emotions waft over him from a doorway that wasn't there the last time he circled this very hallway. His wrist itches more before suddenly burning as though electricity shocked him once again. He looks down and gasps at the strange butterfly marking that's appeared on his wrist, just as his hand reaches for the door of its own volition.

Danny seethes as his body disobeys him, but is brought to stunned silence when the door opens, sending the hallway it leads to flying towards him. The next doorway barrels at him, and he closes his eyes to brace for the impact before it opens as well.

Again and again doors race forward and open, before he finds himself in a domed garden of brambles and roses.

Danny feels his Core lurch as the mark on his arm burns brightly before fading.

"That was weird..." he whispers to himself. He only takes a few moments looking around before finding a rock made of paper to hide behind. The inner sanctum of this Ancients forsaken Labyrinth is enormous- everything looks as though its made of collage paper and watercolor. There's a large chaise lounge in the center of the room, surrounded by strange creatures shaped like dandelions with mustaches.

"Okay that's even weirder..."

The dandelion beings pass roses between them, piling them on and around the lounge in the center of the room. The lighting overhead in the glass dome is dim, but it seems to be getting brighter- the light itself pinpointing on something resting on the chaise.

Danny's entire being revolts as he looks upon the strange black jewel. The bottom is needle thin, resting on a soft silk pillow without making nary a dent. A strange flash of light bursts from it- pure black as void and cold to the touch. It begins to break, forming into a disfigured shape. The shadow it becomes undulates and pulses, growing more and more gargantuan as it explodes from the jewel with a shattering scream of terror.

Danny feels his eyes involuntarily water, the tears falling freely down his cheeks as the jewel produces something similar to a Death Echo, forming into a being made of rose bushes, butterflies, and pure sorrow.

Danny witnesses the birth of something horrifying and his Core screams at him to run. This thing is dangerous, it's dangerous and wrong and will be his End. He stands to leave, but finds his legs unable to move. He struggles, panicked.

Roses appear from nothing as they quickly morph into black tendrils and ensnare him. He's lofted up, up, up to the Thing's- the Witch's 'face'. A corrupt butterfly stares back at him and howls. Danny shrieks in response, summoning an ecto ray in defense. He blasts the witch in its 'chest'. It doesn't appreciate this much, tossing him to the ground.

He shoots another few blasts at it as he falls, smirk on his face through the panic. But without access to his flight or intangibility, he plummets to the brambles below.

Danny forgets he can't summon his ghost form here. He remembers too late that his human form can't handle as much as his ghost form.

"Shit-"

"Oh so now you show up again."

Danny sits up from where his body crumpled. Thankfully, he only has a broken arm and a ton of scratches to show for it, having landed mostly in a fucked up rosebush.

"Have you given my offer more thought?" the rabbit-thing asks from its perch behind him.

"Sorry, I was too busy being jumped by a plant from my worst nightmares to think about wishing for a million bucks or whatever." Danny rolls his eyes, trying to hide the terror in his shaking body. "Seriously, do you have anything better to do than stalk me?"

"You are in no real position to ask this many questions, Daniel Fenton. This witch will kill you and devour you, and not necessarily in that order. It would be beneficial on both our ends for you to sign a contract with me."

Danny hates how right this little shit cat is. Without access to most of his powers, he's practically useless against a monster this large. And if he's useless he can't defeat, let alone escape. Not to think about what this thing will do to innocent mall-goers should it get bored of eating his corpse or whatever.

He shudders.

"They say dealing with the devil never goes well." he responds to the creature. "Although it's kind of a dick move, waiting to prey on me at my lowest point."

The creature stares at him with its infuriatingly neutral 'cute' expression. "Oh but I'm no devil. You may call me Kyubey. I am simply the familiar to all magical girls- in your case, magia. A contract with me would grant you the power to take on this witch, to embrace the potential you've already started to accumulate."

The witch watches angrily in the background, trying to seek him out amongst the brambles. Danny shudders.

"You keep mentioning potential. The hell does that mean?"

Kyubey stares at his soul with its vacant, beady eyes. "Never before have we seen someone manifest their own magic without a contract. It should be an impossibility! Bringing you to full potential could make you one of the strongest magia of all time. You could wish for nearly anything, and your potential would grant it!"

He considers it for a second as he hears the chains above them shaking. The noise blends in with the cacophonous whispers of dread.

"I..." Danny starts, another question on his lips before he feels the tug of magic on his Core, the sense of gears and hourglasses gripping everything around him. His head slowly turns as everything is frozen in place.

He blinks.

Kyubey's form fills with holes as the sound of gunfire reaches his ears.

Time resumes.

Kyubey's corpse collapses before him in a puddle of red and white viscera.

Danny screams, and the witch roars.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

In the near one hundred times she's done this month long song and dance, these back halls have only ever been occupied by four creatures. Herself, Miki, Kaname, and the Incubator.

So why is it there's a new presence? Why is Kyubey stalking a foreigner through the halls?

Never mind that.

She cannot fail. Her mission is clear, and she's once again ready to strike when Kyubey inevitably finds Madoka again, as it always does when this mall trip comes to pass.

Homura finds her patience wavering- it should have made its move on Madoka by now, but for some reason it's focused on a boy who clearly has no idea where he is or what he's doing. An anomaly in all these repeated timelines who won't even be able to see the incubator stalking him. She shouldn't waste her time following, but as soon as she loses sight of the damned incubator it'll strike. With her luck, it will snare Madoka in its claws in five minutes or less if she loses her nerve.

So she follows, shield in hand and ready to pounce.

It doesn't take too much longer for something to happen.

The boy, impossibly, sees Kyubey approach. Even more impossibly, he hits it with green fire when it asks for a contract. Her trigger finger itches, but it lacks a pistol for the moment.

Homura has no idea what to expect, but she did not expect for the boy to start threatening Kyubey, the same green magic being shot at it while in a fully human guise. Even stranger, the boy doesn't have any sort of indication that he's a magical gir- no a magia. He'd be a magia, she realizes.

Homura continues to follow the boy, long after Kyubey 'gives up'. With how he ignorantly walked right into a hatching witch's lair- Gertrude, one of the weaker witches to encounter she muses to herself- she doubts he's any sort of magia himself. Yet. Especially with how Kyubey is pursuing him. She wonders if this means Kyubey will leave Madoka alone for a while, with the boy catching its attention.

However, hive minded creatures can be everywhere at once.

Homura's momentary distraction causes her to stumble when a wall juts up from the floor beneath her. She curses when the labyrinth opens fully, separating herself and the boy she's investigating. There must be a reason he's shown up this loop, with how he can manipulate magic without a contract. There might even be the possibility he can help save Madoka this time, but she won't get her hopes up too high. Allies are far and few in between with how callous she must be to survive, and she doubts a normal looking foreign boy will put up with her aloof and cruel facade.

She fights her way through the labyrinth, using her magic to track the inner sanctum just as the boy witnesses the birth of a witch. There's no way he's a magia- not if he's reacting in enough fear to chill the room. No seasoned, or even new magia would dare show so much fear towards a witch. Not this openly.

Homura readies her gun as the boy is lofted in the air, almost too quickly for her to interfere.

Time pauses and he blasts the witch with his strange magic.

Wait.

How...?

Homura's brow furrows in distrust.

How is this-

Time resumes.

The blasts hit. The witch shrieks.

Homura is not close enough. She is not fast enough.

She is too surprised to stop time again.

And the boy falls.

Kyubey is a bastard. This is a fact.

The amount of times Homura has seen it approach Madoka or her friends at their lowest is astronomical, so she's not at all surprised to see it approach the boy after he takes what should have been a deadly fall. She's glad she's seen so much brutality in her short yet too long life- the sound of crunching bones is much easier to handle this way.

She wonders why Kyubey is being so persistent, but even more so, she needs to know how he was able to nullify her time stop, or at least how he was able to continue to move somewhat. She doesn't appreciate unknown variables, let alone ones that can be a threat to her mission. So she listens in- masking her presence best as she can from the Incubator.

"Oh but I'm no devil. You may call me Kyubey. I am simply the familiar to all magical girls- in your case, magia. A contract with me would grant you the power to take on this witch, to embrace the potential you've already started to accumulate."

Homura rolls her eyes. The Incubator might not look like a devil, but it is one she knows deeply.

"You keep mentioning potential. The hell does that mean?"

Homura prepares one of her more efficient guns, not liking the tone of the Incubator, nor the nervous panic in the boy's shoulders. Potential is power as a magical girl. The more potential, the stronger the magic and the more terrifying the witch. She reaches out to try feeling for the threads of potential surrounding the boy, shuddering as she does. Her eyes widen in surprise when it whispers the same tune as her own abilities- Time, but something more, something Other.

A possible ally, if she plays her cards right.

"Never before have we seen someone manifest their own magic without a contract. It should be an impossibility! Bringing you to full potential could make you one of the strongest magia of all time. You could wish for nearly anything, and your potential would grant it!"

Homura jolts to awareness then and there. The boy's eyes look resigned, his shoulders slump. He's going to do it- and she doesn't quite want to deal with either a new magia or witch with her mission on the line.

"I..."

Her decision is made. She winds up her shield and freezes everything as her gun unleashes a barrage of ammo at the Incubator.

Satisfied with the gored mess of the creature, she approaches the boy with a toss of her hair to soothe her nerves.

She's not surprised his eyes follow her despite the frozen time.

So she releases her hold on it and watches as he takes a shuddering breath and Kyubey's corpse collapses between them.

"You should not be here."

Danny snorts in response. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here even if I wanted to."

[phantomposting]

A Wish is Worth a Thousand Words AU Prompt

Tw: injury and brief mention of dissection

---------------------------------------------------------

This is another late night 4am au prompt rant so please excuse any typos or improper grammar cause my brain is so very soupy but I've had this concept in my head for months and thought I should share

In this au Danny and Dick are brothers separated at a young age most likely due to the Graysons just being unable to take care of another child at the time so Danny ends up being put up for adoption. Dick is the older brother but was young enough when Danny was born that he had no memory of ever having s brother.

Eventually Danny is brought onto Dick's radar while he's still a Robin. Maybe some incident occurs where Bruce wants to look into the Fentons or something which leads to the discovery and Dick is absolutely devastated that he never got to know his brother. So he does the only rational thing. He books it to Amity Park and slowly tries to work up the courage to tell Danny that he's his brother. With his research and steak out he discovers how terribly unsafe the Fenton's home is and wishes he and his brother were never separated lucky for him and not so lucky for everyone else a certain ghost genie hears this wish and grants it.

Now that they've never been separated Danny is one of vigilante's of Gotham by his brother's side. He and Bruce are really close due to processing the trauma of their parent's deaths in similar ways and life seems happy for them.

However Clockwork is scrambling. Without Danny becoming Phantom the timeline is doomed. So he has to get to work remedying the situation Desiree caused. Clockwork manages to rescue the Sam and Tucker from the previous timeline before they are completely erased and strikes a deal with them. Assist him in getting Danny to become Phantom and they get to stay in this timeline and live out their lives in peace instead of getting destroyed.

Sam thinks the task is simple enough find Danny, work up trust, tell him the situation and he's sure to help. But they stumble across a problem. Danny is doing well timeline. He's happy and healthy and loved without constant threat of dissection or getting attacked by those who should be protecting him. Sam doesn't have the heart to ruin that for him. Tucker on the other hand would feel bad but also it's for the greater good right? So they spend their time planning and learning things about this Danny. They pose as students in his school and become his friends. They also befriend Dick aswell. Slowly but surely they devise a plan to tell him but it actually never happens. Danny is injured in a fight one night and Clockwork uses this to his advantage taking the kid with amnesia and dumping him in Illinois. Sam is pissed but clockwork says its for the best and doesn't give her a chance to argue.

So Sam and Tucker continue their lives in Gotham. Meanwhile this timeline's Sam and Tucker befriend Danny in Amity and Danny becomes Phantom.

In Gotham Dick is left absolutely devastated. He won't rest until he finds his baby brother and brings him home safe and sound. But more and more time is passing and things are seeming less and less hopeful. Eventually tho Dick discovers an article about Phantom and what does he see? Sam and Tucker with this ghost that looks like his missing brother. But how? Sam and Tucker are here in Gotham with him. How are they in Illinois? Only one way to find out he goes to Illinois.

In Illinois he bumps into them and casually talks with them and they have no memory of him, but they definitely are Sam and Tucker. Things are getting weird and not adding up but then bam ghost attack! Eventually this leads to Robin finding Phantom injured in an alleyway and they talk. Robin helps Phantom by patching him up and tries to figure out if this is Danny which it clearly is!

The rest of this fic would probably be brothers getting to know eachother again, confrontations with Clockwork and Sam and Tucker and learning to accept what had occurred and manage time along with reconnecting with Bruce aswell. All in all lots of room for angst and found family stuff :D

[ladylynse]

Happy Halloween. :) Trick or treat. :D

Everything you write is nice, so it's hard to choose a 3-sentence fic to ask you to expand on. D: But I think the DP "Was a kiss worth it" one might have a lot of potential for expansion. https://ladylynse.tumblr.com/post/188181019551/3-sentence-prompt-pls-was-a-kiss-worth-it

Happy Halloween! Glad to hear you had some difficulty making your choice, but it's such an intriguing one. *grins*

The three sentence fic was originally posted here, but I've copied it here (in italics) for ease of reading. A warning for character death, as implied by that original ficlet.

-|-

“Tell me,” cooed Desiree as she rose from the flames, “was a kiss worth the price?”

Vlad didn’t have the energy to yell at her, to fight; he was too exhausted after trying—and failing—to save Maddie.

He should have known that Desiree would find a way to twist this wish in the most vindictive way, but he hadn’t realized he’d made it in her hearing, and then he hadn’t been sorry that he had—until now.

Desiree waved a hand when he didn’t answer, and the flames vanished as if they had been under Ember’s control instead of hers.

Magic, the lot of it.

A fool might say that none of it had been real, but that wasn’t true.

This was real.

Every last ashen thing in this room was real; the difference was that none of it had been destroyed naturally.

Butter biscuits, was he supposed to consider himself lucky that Desiree had decided to play with him and had limited her damage to one room of his mansion? Did she think that would save her once he recovered the strength to hunt her down? Did she think that would save her once Daniel discovered what she’d done and hunted her down?

Jack might try to join in the hunt, too, but even Desiree could evade that bumbling oaf given half the opportunity. Really, Jack would only serve to handicap Jasmine—and perhaps Daniel, if he still wanted to protect his secret.

Vlad wasn’t sure he did, even if it meant Jack finding out exactly what he’d done to the person he’d claimed was his best friend.

“You said you would give anything to share one kiss with your Maddie,” mocked Desiree. “And when Phantom told you he’d strike a deal with Nocturne to make sure that never even happened in your dreams, you wished—”

“I was there,” Vlad interrupted. The phantom scent of smoke still clogged his nostrils and stung at his eyes, making them tear up.

Or were those the symptoms of a truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, a price that should have never been paid?

Maddie—

“I know what I wished.” His words were a whisper now, but Desiree was still smirking, still thriving off the destruction she’d wrought. She couldn’t be as strong as Spectra would be if Vlad were facing her instead, but Desiree wasn’t afraid to play the long game, either. She knew what chaos the death of a ghost hunter at the hands of a ghost could create.

Vlad’s eyes found Maddie’s unmoving form again.

This couldn’t be over.

He wouldn’t let it be over.

“So was it worth it?” taunted Desiree again. “That one kiss? Knowing you’ll never get another from her?”

Vlad’s eyes flicked back to Desiree. He took a slow breath, imagined he was in a board meeting with imbeciles, and ground out, “I said I would give anything to share that kiss with my dearest Maddie, and yes, I wished it were so to spite Daniel, but Maddie was not yet mine to give. Her life is not a price you should have taken, nor is it a twist you can claim was within your rights.” He pushed himself to his feet and let the fury coursing through his veins gather in his palms as crackling lightning. “Fix this, or molecular destruction at the hands of Jack Fenton will be the least of your concerns.”

(see more fics)

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 2 - Excerpt 1

Sorry it was so late!

Jolene and Rowan weren’t there the next day at school, and I could not help but worry, even though I had not known them very long.

Jolene Frost had, in all the time that I knew her, struck me as the kind of girl who would spontaneously accept two tickets to Mars without even bothering to check if a ticket back to earth was included or not.

Rowan Frost, on the other hand, was the kind of guy who would agree to go with Jolene just because he didn’t want her to die alone.

That being said, they could be anywhere and could have done anything, at any given point of time.

Or maybe they were just stuck with the flu; it was hard to tell.

It was gym class, and I was failing miserably at playing dodge ball.

Obviously.

I mean, firstly, who would ever invent a sport that required one poor team to dodge oncoming, never-ending ball-attacks from a horde of people with murder hand-signed in their every throw? Secondly, couldn’t we have done something more, I don’t know, survivable? Like yoga, or some warm-up exercises? Even volleyball would’ve been better. And I am not sharing the details of my history with volleyball, so you know it’s bad.

A cherry-red ball flew in my direction as I awkwardly stood towards the side of the wooden-floored court, minding my own business, and staring at the edgy sides of the tiles on the floor. I looked up, and immediately scrambled away before the blood-coloured devil could cause severe damage to my liver. I imagine I looked like a dying fish fresh out of the water when I did so. I then jogged at least six feet from my orginal position, where the ball had almost caused my untimely demise.

And when another spherical shaped hell-denizen came flying at my face, I would be forced to run for it again, with Coach Anderson shouting at us to ‘suck it up and run it down’. And so the cycle goes on, until, of course, the ball finally hits me.

One such clumsy attempt got me crashing into Desiree, one of the sympathic girls in my class I’d befriended earlier that day. You could pinpoint her easily because of her dark skin and striking blue eyes. She was about two heads shorter than me, had long black hair, and wore clothes so loose they looked like they could fall off of her any minute now. Her hair and eyes had seemed very vaguely familiar.

“Careful,” she called as we both almost stumbled and fell. Her voice had a strangely husky undertone to it.

“This is an idiotic sport,” I declared.

Desiree grimaced as she dusted her clothes. “Dangerous, more like,” she said, as she expertly dodged another attack.

“You seem to be good at it,” I pointed out obviously.

“Three years of putting up with it will do that to you,” she smiled.

“Maybe we could pretend to be the throwers...” I suggested.

But I had no more room to think, because everything that happened after that happened in rapid succession.

Somebody had, for reasons that I did not fully understand, lost their presence of mind and had thrown the ball high into the air – twenty-five feet as far as I could tell – without any telling as to where it would land.

And, just as luck would have it, the ball fell smack on my head, hard.

The impact itself was not anything that could cause real damage; the ball was made of soft, rubbery material. It was just the surprise of it that sent me to the ground, head banging against the nearby wall, and elbow scraping harshly on the sharp edge of a slim wooden tile.

The entire class immediately surrounded me with the curiosity that an animal-loving person would bestow on a wild rabbit. Coach Anderson bumbled forward, his face as pink as fresh meat, his black coach’s whistle swinging wildly about his person.

“How are you doing there, boy?” he half-shouted, as though worried my ears had been damaged as well.

I attempted to get up with as much grace as I could, my elbow tingling, and said in what I thought was a confident voice, “I’m fine, sir.”

“But you’re bleeding,” pointed out a somewhat distraught Desiree; she’d been standing closest to me when I fell, and seemed to be the only one concerned about whether I had injured myself or not.

She was staring at my elbow, where, sure enough, a thin red line travelled its way across, a drop of scarlet threatening to drip.

I hastily covered the wound, so that the blood wouldn’t spill. “Yeah, sorry,” I said.

Desiree looked at me as thought I’d gone mad. “Kenneth,” she said slowly, as though I were a five-year-old being taught a hard life lesson, “I am going to take you to the infirmary now, okay? You know, the place where your wounds get treated and you don’t apologise for acquiring them in the first place?”

I shrugged, unable to come up with anything to say. My head hurt, although that was ebbing, and the cut on my elbow was finally coming to me in a sharp, pin-prick sort of pain that was almost like a burn.

So I let Desiree drag me out of the crowd and to the infirmary.

***********************

“I can still walk, you know,” I informed Desiree as she continued to coo over me in the medicine-smelling infirmary.

The nurse, for reasons that I did not fully understand, was not present by the time we had gotten there, so Desiree attempted to administer my wounds herself, all the while showering assurances that it would be fine, she knew exactly what to do, she’d done this dozens of times for her sister, and I shouldn’t worry, yes?

She gave me an ice-pack that was almost too cold for my head, cleaned the cut on my elbow, applied antiseptic cream and lightly bandaged it, all as if it were something she was born to do.

She was now rifling through the white medicine cabinet. When she reemerged, she held a mischievous toffee in her hand and gave it to me, turning around sharply and making her school ID swing wildly around her neck.

I took the toffee and slipped it into my pocket.

“Wise choice,” she commented, as she held her ID in place.

And as I looked at the name on the card, I saw something there that made me realise; I had never really asked for Desiree's last name.

Or ever really wondered why she’d looked familiar.

Or ever really thought about how everywhere I went, I seemed to find at least something related to this one person.

Because, even though I’d just gotten a glimpse, I could see the name on the ID-card read Desiree Raynott.

Taglist: @mayaheronthorn, @jeahreading, @fantasyquinn, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay Ich liebe dich!

[beautifulpaxielreads]

23 in 2023

Thank you to @thereadingchallengechallenge for the open tag. I hope you enjoy Little Thieves - I read it last year and absolutely loved it.

I Have Lost My Way by Gayle Forman

As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow by Zoulfa Katouh

Desiree by Annemarie Selinko

Where You Left Us by Rhiannon Wilde

Something Fresh by P. G. Wodehouse

Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2) by Brigid Kemmerer

A Fire Endless (Elements of Cadence #2) by Rebecca Ross

The Upwelling by Lystra Rose

This Rebel Heart by Katherine Locke

The Balloon Thief by Aneesa Marufu

Record of a Spaceborn Few (Wayfarers #3) by Becky Chambers

Stateless by Elizabeth Wein

East (East #1) by Edith Pattou

The Girl With No Soul by Morgan Owen

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Monk and Robot #2) by Becky Chambers

Strike the Zither (Kingdom of Three #1) by Joan He

The Jasmine Throne (Burning Kingdoms #1) by Tasha Suri

The Smoke Thieves (The Smoke Thieves #1) by Sally Green

Legendborn (The Legendborn Cycle #1) by Tracy Deonn

Star Daughter by Shveta Thakrar

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

Gearbreakers (Gearbreakers #1) by Zoe Hana Mikuta

Portable Magic: A History of Books and their Readers by Emma Smith

Again, I'm making this an open tag, so anyone who wants to do it, consider this your invitation!

[sufandomgirl]

Hell's Belles Fanfiction Part 1

[A/N: This was actually my first Hell's Belles fanfiction, long before Gabriella was even thought of. Speaking of, she will appear, but this isn't a prompt story. I simply put the prompt in because it reminded me that I wanted to expand my fanfiction. Anyways, enjoy!]

{The brunette woman walked up to Penny's desk, fully expecting to be course corrected.}

Penny: Welcome to the Hellp Desk--I am...really mixed in my feelings from the impromptu send-off party that was recently hosted in honor of my friend and co-worker, Ruggy's reincarnation. We're all very proud of her for her growth and earning her chance at it. We all miss her, though. How may I help you?

Woman: Oh, congratulations to your friend. I didn't understand it, but it sounded like a big deal and a good thing. Anyway, hi, I'm here to address a mistake. The people at the Front Death-k were trying to send me to Paradise, but my husband when I was alive told me that I needed to come down here and be punished for my actions until he could forgive me for my insubordination from Heaven.

Penny: (looks down at her desk) Well, that explains why I don't have a file for you. Um, tell me, what's your name? We use only first names down here.

Woman: Oh, my name is Desiree.

Penny: Okay, and um, out of curiosity, were you married to Christian man who told you that you needed to obey and serve him, no matter what you thought or felt and/or were you perhaps were part of a church that taught you that from a young age?

Desiree: Yes, I was in both. I had an eight-year-old son with my husband, John and remember sending him away with his grandparents in the park right before I felt a burning pain in the back of my head and woke up at the Front Death-k. You see, I'd just found out about John's affair, and I always felt that he was threatening our son. I was trying to leave him, without the support of the church or our community, but with my parents' because even though I knew that I deserved my husband's violence, our son didn't.

Penny: (eyes wide; looks at Judy)

Judy: (looks at Desiree; sighs) Oh, sweet pea.

Lily: So, back up, what made you feel as though you deserved the abuse?

Desiree: Well, simple, I disobeyed the word of God that was taught by my church, I acted independently of my husband, even though I knew it was wrong, and I tried to leave him.

Lily: What church did you attend, by chance?

Desiree: Oh, it was the Designated Gospel Church. DGC, for short.

Sharkie: Hey, Mom, isn't that that new cult that's parading as a religious denomination to commit tax evasion?

Lily: (typing on computer) It is. Desiree, honey, I'm so sorry you had to get sucked into that, but that cult is getting a lot of publicity after your murder. Check this out. (reads) 'Pastor of cult calls for institution to release man arrested for abusing and publicly killing his wife on the grounds of religious practices'. Pastor Ulysses, to be exact.

Judy: Isn't Greg already preparing for his arrival down on Level 9, Penny?

Penny: Yeah, he's super excited. He gets a certain kick out of punishing religious leaders who abuse their power. (turns back to Desiree) It's really not your fault. We deal with corrupt church teachings and clergy all the time. Their victims like yourself do usually come down for therapy on Level One or Two, but usually come out ready for their Paradise. If not, they sign up for reincarnation to try again at life.

Desiree: That can't be right! Pastor Ulysses told me that God would scowl upon me for helping a Muslim and Pagan avoid shaming from a fellow church member and accepting my lesbian sister and her trans son. My parents left the church because they wouldn't support them. I was already married to John and continued speaking to them despite his wishes. This caused him to strike me for my disobedience. It only got worse when I kept in contact with an ex-communicated friend who disagreed with Pastor Ulysses sermons of obeying men and such.

{The Hellp Desk stare at her, wide-eyed.}

Lily: So, amidst this...enlightening conversation, do you notice any...recurring themes about...Ulysses and John that may or may not contribute to your view of your actions? Clearly, you didn't agree with them, which was fine, but then when you were judged and sent to Paradise, did you ever question that maybe they could've just been trying to manipulate you? I mean, why send your son to your parents unless you knew what they were doing was wrong?

[swtor-tairisiu]

Self-Reflection

Thelia had arrived on Jedha the day before. After a good night's sleep, she made the trek to the Dome of Deliverance, entering quietly.

As she looked around, she saw no other Jedi present but the Jedi had left Jedha thousands of years past. While Jedi came here now, it was a few at a time, on pilgrimages such as her own, to gain insight into oneself.

As she moved deeper into the Dome, only the sound of her footsteps echoed around her. The deep quiet gave the place a sense of sacredness, of uniqueness. Perhaps it wasn't just the kyber mirrors here that helped one find oneself. Perhaps the entire temple had been constructed to achieve that goal.

Thelia approached one of the kyber mirrors, seeing herself clearly, and she then knelt down to meditate. But unlike her usual meditations, eyes closed, here she kept them open, staring into the mirror as she let her mind find its center and let the Force itself begin to guide her.

The image in the mirror stood then, though Thelia had not stood herself. She was looking at Cara and they were talking.

"Why am I here? I'm not supposed to be here. Everything I do is an anomaly."

Cara shook her head. "No, Thelia, it's not. This is where you're supposed to be. This is what you were destined to do."

The vision shifted then. Thelia was speaking with Desiree.

Des was shaking her head. "Stop doubting yourself, Thelia. We don't. We believe in you."

Thelia shook her head at Desiree, doubt clawing at her mind as she watched.

The vision shifted again. This time it was Lillim.

Lillim spoke. "You and I did what we did precisely so you could be here, now, because this is where you were needed."

Thelia shook her head. "But this isn't where I'm supposed to be!"

The vision shifted again. Aunt Liza'beth stood before her. They were sparring.

Liza shouted, "Stop doubting yourself!"

Thelia parried one thrust and tried to counterattack, only to have the older woman knock her saber free. Thelia watched it skitter across the floor.

The scene shifted one final time. Thelia didn't recognize this. It wasn't a memory. Was it a vision? Two Sith backed Cara into a corner. Cara was defending herself but barely. She would likely fall soon.

But then Thelia saw herself appear, from stealth, striking one of the Sith down from behind and startling the other so thoroughly that Cara was able to drive him back. And now the odds were reversed. While the Sith struggled to fend off their blows, eventually Cara staggered him, giving Thelia the opening to strike him down.

As he fell, Cara turned to Thelia and said, "I told you, you're right where you're supposed to be."

The vision ended suddenly and Thelia was looking at herself knelt before the kyber mirror. Her heart pounded within her as she struggled to control her emotions.

And she finally knew - she was where she was supposed to be.

[five-rivers]

Face Your Dreams

Almost forgot to post this here as well!  @anthropwashere 

Phic Phight 2021

Prompt from Anthrop: Any flavor of the Reverse AUs that strike your fancy. Who gets the ghost powers? Who becomes the ghost hunter? Who gets ghost magick'd into the villain of the week?

 Danny’s phone was dead.  Which was just typical, really.  His parents were brilliant, wealthy inventors that played with the fabric of reality on a daily basis and had managed to turn, not one, but two of Danny’s best friends into half ghosts, but they couldn’t be bothered to get Danny a phone that was actually reliable.  Although they hadn’t intended to do the half ghost thing and didn’t know about it.  

Probably.  

Maybe.  

(Honestly, Danny didn’t know.  His parents were weird.  And Danny suspected they were keeping secrets.)

Back on topic.  Phone.  Not working. Which was a problem because Danny was something like ninety-percent sure a ghost had been following him for the last block or so and he couldn’t call for help.  

Correction, he could call for help all he wanted, he just wouldn’t get any that would be any good against a ghost.  If he got any at all.  It was the middle of the night.  

He should have taken up Sam’s offer of a flight home. Or Tucker’s.  But, no, he had to be sulky about how both of them were developing yet more really, incredibly cool powers and Danny was still just…

Himself.  

Faceless, boring Fenton.  Only notable for the number of bullies he attracted and the people he was related to.  No special skillset, no dreams he had any hope of achieving, no triumphs.  Nothing to contribute.  Not in and of himself.  Only useful to enemies that wanted a hostage.

He was about to be murdered by a ghost and he was still sulking.  God, he was pathetic.  

(Not all ghosts were evil – Sam and Tucker’s stories had taught him that much, on an intellectual basis.  Was it too much to hope that he could reach home without the ghost attacking?  Too much to hope that it was just watching?)

White noise tugged at Danny’s ears.  It reminded him of the sleep CD Jazz played when Mom and Dad were being loud.  

… and, also, oddly, of a video he’d once watched about what stars might sound like, based on how they vibrated.  

Danny shuddered, his heartbeat redoubling as he picked up speed, reaching a run.  If he could get home, he could turn on the ghost shield and call Sam and Tucker from his home phone.  They’d be annoyed that he was bothering about a ghost so long after a patrol, but he was freaked out enough to not really care about their teasing.  

(He’d been freaked out enough for the past two blocks.)

His breath began to catch in his lungs, his side burning. He splashed through a puddle, dark, oily liquid sticking to his right sneaker and pant leg.  It glittered in the light of the waning crescent moon.  

Wait –

It hadn’t rained for weeks.

He slipped and fell, skinning hands, knees, and chin on the sidewalk.  Something wet, sticky, and smooth as silk spread over the pavement beneath him.  It bubbled like a tar pit, and captive stars shone from within.  

Danny tried to push himself up, but the liquid held on to him, pulled him back down.  

He was sinking.  

He flailed for the sidewalk, reaching, trying to stay afloat.  It didn’t work.  His elbows were below the level of the sidewalk, and inky, glittery black dripped from his front.  It seemed to be eating through his clothes.  

Forget useful help.  He’d take any help.  He screamed.  

And he fell.  

.

“You have such lovely dreams,” said the masked man, his horns curling into galaxies.  “Impossible dreams.”

Danny couldn’t breathe.  He was in freefall.  A vacuum.  No ground in sight, only the cold, heartless stars, perfect in their beauty.  

(And his eyes.  Oh, god, was this really a ghost?)

It was his dream, to be an astronaut.  With this little twist, it became a nightmare, and yet—

Yet.  

“You feel faceless,” continued the masked man.  “But there’s freedom in that, is there not?”  

Danny shouldn’t be able to hear him.  There shouldn’t be any sound in space, and there wasn’t.  Not except for his voice.  

“Freedom,” said the man, “to follow your wildest dreams, unshackled from responsibility, from reality, from reasonability.  No longer dependent on those that call themselves your friends, who claim to be your family, who walk over your dreams for the sake of theirs.”

Suddenly, Danny hit the sidewalk, and he could breathe again.  Something thick dripped from his nose, his mouth, his eyes.  He pushed himself to his hands and knees.  His clothing was gone.  His limbs were painted with the night sky in all its glory.  He froze, staring.  

From Danny’s shadow, the masked man rose, towering over Danny until he felt like little more than a shadow.  “Don’t you want to have the chance to see your dreams come true, child?”

Danny blinked.  It was hard to force his eyes back open.  They seemed to want to stick closed.  

“Who are you?” Danny asked, words garbled by the dripping stars trying to force their way past his lips.  

“I am Nocturne,” the ghost said, leaning closer.

“You’re like,” Danny choked, “like Desiree.  I don’t want—”

Nocturne scoffed.  “Desiree.  A creature of wishes, of momentary things.  I do not care for what you wish for.  What matters is that you dream.”  

There was something in Nocturne’s hand, round and white and moonlike.  It looked small, held between two of his fingers, but it had to be the size of Danny’s face.  

“Don’t you dream of flying?” purred Nocturne.  “Of being among the stars?  Don’t you dream of a peaceful world, where your friends are safe, and the accident never happened?  Where you’re a friend, not a weapon supply, a sidekick, or a damsel in distress?”

Danny had been thinking something so close just minutes ago and he couldn’t—

“There, there, my child.  No need to cry.”  He brought the round thing closer.  

Danny could see, now, that it was a mask.  Just his size.  

“Close your eyes,” said Nocturne, gently, cupping Danny’s trembling shoulders with his other hand.  “Close your eyes and dream.  Let your face go, for a little while.”

(Danny did as he was told.)

.

“Hi, Sam,” said Mrs. Fenton, her voice crackling slightly through the phone speaker.  “Have you seen Danny today?”

“I haven’t seen him since last n—Since yesterday,” said Sam, correcting herself halfway though.  Mrs. Fenton didn’t know about their nightly escapades, and for good reason.  “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Maddie.  “He just…  I haven’t seen him either.  He usually says goodbye before he leaves.”

He didn’t, but Maddie didn’t need to know that.  

“Have you checked with Tucker yet?  Sometimes they hang out without me.  Guy things.”  This… was also not entirely true.  Danny and Tucker hadn’t had a ‘guy thing’ for ages.  They’d been smoothly replaced with ‘ghost things’ like most everything else in their lives.  

Sam… might have felt a little bad about that.  All of their normal friend activities being replaced by ghost things, that is.  Often ghost things that Danny couldn’t really participate in, because Danny couldn’t fly or shoot lasers from his hands.  

He did do a good job of setting up obstacle courses and covering for her and Tucker’s—

Wait, no, not the point.

“He hasn’t seen him, either.  Jazz doesn’t know where he is.  I don’t—”  She broke off, sighing.  “Call me if you see him.  Or tell him to call me.”

“I will,” said Sam, opening the window and preparing to take off.  

“Thank you,” said Maddie.  She hung up.  

Sam went ghost with a burst of green fire.  She floated up and out of the window, fading out of visibility as she dialed Tucker’s number.  

“Starboy’s missing,” she said.  

“Yeah, I’m already searching for him,” said Tucker, the microphone crackling with static but otherwise clear.  Tucker’s powers both did and didn’t mesh well with technology.

“Any luck?”

“No,” said Tucker.  “This is one of those times when I wish he did have friends other than us.  Then we could ask them about where he is.”

“Do you think he’s been taken by a ghost?” asked Sam.

“I mean, maybe?  There was that whole thing with Desiree…”

“And the second thing with Desiree,” added Sam.  

“And Skulker.”

“And the second thing with Skulker.”

“And Spectra.”

“And the second thing with Spectra.”

“Not to mention Vlad.”

“What a freak,” said Sam.

“Are you picking up a pattern here?”

“Yeah, maybe.  Who’s only kidnapped Danny once?”

“I’m not sure…  Maybe it’s a new guy?  We do get new guys now and again.”

Sam sighed.  “Never mind that,” she said.  “Where have you looked so far?”

“Not too many places.  Do you want to meet up, or…?”

“No, we’ll have more luck going separately.  I’ll check in with you in a bit.”

.

A whole day passed without any sign of Danny. They did, however, find a lot of ghosts with stitched-shut eyes, which they decided was probably related and also incredibly creepy.  

By that time, the police got involved.  Danny was officially a missing person.  

But they were distracted.  Didn’t have the manpower to search for just one missing person.

Why?

The sudden surge in coma patients.  

“I don’t get it,” said Tucker.  “Is that more of a, you know,” he lowered his voice, “doctor thing?  Like, if it’s a bunch of people, don’t you think it’s a disease or something?”

“The police think that someone poisoned ‘em,” said Sam.  

“How do you know that?”

“How do you think I know that?”

“Dude.  You have to stop eavesdropping on the police.  I’m, like, ninety percent sure that’s illegal.”

“Not for ghosts, it isn’t.”

“Okay, I’m one hundred percent sure it is.  You’ve read the anti-ecto acts, haven’t you? I’m not the only one who did that, right?”

“It was, like, fifty pages thick.  And stupid.  The only reason I’d read it would be if I wanted to break the laws more efficiently.”

“Seriously?”

.

An alien world spread out below Danny, a place to explore to his heart’s content, the sky twinkling above him.  He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there, in the nameless, infinite way you knew things when you were dreaming.  

He was an astronaut.  An adventurer.  An explorer.

He was doing everything he had ever dreamed of.

The only thing missing were the people.  His friends.  His family.

But… He could bring them here.  He knew that, too, in the same way.  

He just had to reach out and touch them.  Feel them.  Take them.  

(A bit of black and starlight in their eyes, a touch of the gift given to him.)

(Nocturne whispered in his ears.  A song only for him.)

.

They found the ghost responsible for the comas.  And maybe they should have realized a ghost was causing them, but Danny was the one who usually put the pieces together, and he wasn’t there.  Which was the problem.  

(What Sam wouldn’t give for some kind of reliable ghost-detecting power.  Or even technology.)

(No, the Fenton Finder didn’t count.)

It was small, human proportions, human skin tone, where it wasn’t covered with some kind of ghostly paint that mimicked the night sky. Its hair was colored the same way, and a blank mask covered its face.  Seemed to be directing the green stitched-eye ghosts somehow, despite not saying a word. So.  All in all, typical ghost, if somewhat more annoying due to his lack of witty banter.

Then he shrugged off the thermos beam like it was nothing.  Almost like he was human.  

Then Tucker froze.  

The ghost was carried away from the fight by its minions, faster than Sam or Tucker could go.  

“Tucker!  What was that?”

“Birthmark,” gasped Tucker.  

“What?” asked Sam.  

“That was Danny’s birthmark.”

“Oh my god,” said Sam.  “Did he really get himself transformed into a ghost again?”

“This seems different than Desiree,” said Tucker. “I don’t…  Were we really fighting him?”

Sam rolled her eyes.  “Let’s go get the Ghost Catcher.”

.

The Ghost Catcher was not in evidence in the Fenton basement.  

“What now?” asked Tucker.  

“Beat it out of him?” suggested Sam.  

“That is a terrible plan.  No, I can’t even call it a plan.  It’s just bad.”

“Do you have anything better?”

(Tucker did not have anything better.)

.

(And Danny still couldn’t find his friends, to show them this dream come true.)

.

When about one in ten people in Amity Park was in a coma, things managed to get even worse.  The people who were asleep began to sleepwalk.  And sleep attack people.  

Sam and Tucker were used to fighting ghosts.  Not humans.  They didn’t want to hurt anyone.  

Especially Danny who was especially vicious. And also seemed to be targeting them.

.

Danny was so close.  So close he could almost touch them.  He could feel them, electricity and green things and dreams of power and justice.  He could feel them, feel them, feel them, and he was so, so close to inviting them into the dream and he needed it, needed them.  Wanted them.  

His dream, the dream, his dream, it just wouldn’t be complete without them at his side, wouldn’t be right.  

He reached for them, reached for Sam, brushed her sleeve and—

A meteor shower threw them apart.

.

Tucker dragged Sam away from Danny’s hand and the sleep-inducing liquid it was coated in.  

“We have to go,” he gasped, looking out at the veritable horde of ghosts and sleepwalking humans.  

“Yeah,” said Sam.  “Yeah, we have to – Have to regroup.”

They retreated to the Ghost Zone, and, predictably, were separated.  

.

The ghost’s name was Undergrowth, and he was interested in Sam.  Interested enough to offer to teach her.  

His power was the same as hers.  Nature.  Plants.

His rage against humans was… much greater. Overwhelming.  Too much, too far, to extreme.  She was glad he didn’t see her as human, didn’t seem to know that she wanted to protect humans.  

(That she wanted to save Danny.)

.

Tucker already knew Technus.  Had met him, fought him, beat him.  More than once, even.  

So, he had to ask why Technus was suddenly helping him.

The ghost fixed Tucker with a look that managed to be both incredulous and flat.  

“Ghost child,” warbled Technus, “I, Technus, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping, know what being electrocuted feels like!  By the very power we both now wield!”

“Oh,” said Tucker.  “Yeah, that makes sense.  You were saying?”

.

Sam and Tucker stood in front of the portal, side by side.  

“Ready to be a wake-up call?” asked Tucker.  

“You’d better believe it,” said Sam.  

.

Danny was caught, trapped in Sam’s vines.  

“This isn’t working,” said Tucker, lightly shocking Danny once again.  The ectoblast didn’t help, either.  “Usually, this’d zap the ghost out of him, but…”

“Maybe we could try to overshadow him?” asked Sam, dubiously.  

“Ugh,” said Tucker.  “My least favorite power.”

“It could be the only way to find the ghost actually responsible.”

“Let’s do this.”

.

Danny was thrilled!  He’d finally found his friends.  True, he couldn’t move, but—

The stars shuddered.  Shifted.  Blinked.

Nocturne was angry.

.

Sam was knocked out of the sky at full speed, making a crater in the dark ground.  People were gathered nearby.  Amity Park people.  

This couldn’t just be the inside of Danny’s mind (overshadowing had never worked this way before, but, well, it wasn’t like they experimented with it a whole lot), it had to be some kind of shared dream.  A special power of the ghost, perhaps?

Sam fired up her powers, reaching for the nearby plants. They didn’t respond.  

Crud.  

This was a dream.  They just looked like plants.  

Then Tucker lit up the sky like a dying star, electrocuting everyone in range.  

.

Danny woke up, throwing Sam and Tucker out of his body, something metallic clanging against sidewalk pavement.  Out of his mind, out of his dream.  Out of that dream, the one Nocturne had made for him.

Oh, god.  He’d just spent the last week—Had it been a week, or longer? —out of his mind, in that dream, reality at one remove, if that.  He’d been blind and—

He reached up to his face, to that mask and he pulled.  It stuck. He pulled harder, and felt the goo sticking it on give, the mask coming away while dripping thick strands of ooze. He gasped.  And it felt like the first breath he’d taken in—

How long had it been?

He opened his eyes just in time to see Nocturne rise out of his shadow.  

.

Both Sam and Tucker had more of an advantage out here in the real world, without having to worry about hurting people.  Well, without having to worry about hurting people more than usual.  Wrecking buildings and missing with ectoblasts were still concerns.  

“Draw him towards the park?” called Tucker, once they got close enough to confer with each other.  

“You grab Danny?”

“I don’t—” started Tucker.  He dodged a swipe from the large, starry ghost.  “He might be safer, if—”

A column of blue light strobed into the sky, and Nocturne was pulled into the Fenton Thermos.  The Fenton Thermos held by Danny Fenton.  He coughed, black liquid dripping down his chin.  

“Hey,” said Danny.  “Thanks.”

“I’ve got to stop losing that thing,” groaned Tucker.

“I think the more important thing here is getting Danny some clothes,” said Sam, shielding her eyes.  

“Yes, please,” said Danny.  

“Glad to have you back, man,” said Danny, landing next to Danny and transforming.  “Honestly, without you, we kind of suck at the whole investigation angle.”

“What?” asked Danny, taking the sweater Tucker offered him.  

“We missed you,” clarified Sam.  “A lot.  We kind of… don’t do to well at anything about ghost fighting.  Or life.”

“Yeah, our social life sucked even more than usual.”

“Oh,” said Danny, wrapping the sweater around his waist. “That’s cool.”  He spit some of the black liquid out onto the sidewalk. “I need a shower.”

“Yep.  Hugs are going to be deferred until then.”

“I’m okay with that,” said Danny.  “I kind of… don’t want to be touched, for a while.”

“Ah,” said Tucker.  “Well.  I’m depressed again.”

“Just.  Until the shower,” said Danny.  

Sam reached out as if to pat Danny on the shoulder, then drew back.  “Do you want a flight back home?  Or to, uh, Tucker’s house?  To shower. And get some clothes.”

“How is that different from a hug?  You’ll still have to carry me.”

“It just is,” said Sam.  

“It really is,” said Tucker.  

There was a long pause.  

“I lied, I want a hug so bad,” said Danny.  

His friends practically flung themselves at him.

[1234-angelika]

The Morgans

an: Hey y'all! Back with a regularily scheduled update. This is the seventh installment for Derek in my Happily Ever After series. As always, hope y'all enjoy!

words: 1.1k

warnings: food mentions

summary:"Families are the compass that guides us. They are the inspiration to reach great heights, and our comfort when we occasionally falter." -Brad Henry

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

Family was something that was important to Derek—you knew he would do anything for them. Which only made meeting them so much more daunting. And though you had talked about it in passing, you and Derek hadn’t made plans.

You woke up urgently needing to use the bathroom. When you went to move, though, something heavy was draped over top of you. You carefully lifted Derek’s arm before hurrying to the bathroom. The cold air of the apartment woke your body up, even though you so desperately didn’t want to. As soon as you stepped into the bathroom, there was no going back to sleep; the cold tiles shocked your system.

Finishing up, you wandered out into the living room to grab your overnight bag and get ready for the day ahead. You and Derek had been dating a year now, and the two of you agreed, instead of moving your things twice—once into his apartment and then again into the new house— it would be better to just move in once, in the new house. You guys would spend the night at the other place, every so often. Last night, you stayed over at Derek’s after dinner and a few too many drinks. And since you had work in a couple of hours, you decided to just get ready for the day instead of going back to bed.

You walked out of the bathroom and straight into the kitchen to get a jumpstart on breakfast. Cooking was something you were fond of, but since taking the job at the FBI as a trainer, you hadn’t had much time for it. Sure, you would cook dinner when you and Derek were together once in a while but not nearly often enough. Then, just as you were finishing up breakfast, three wraps echoed through the mostly quiet apartment. You shuffled through the hall to open the door since Derek wasn’t awake yet.

You opened the door, ready to berate the neighbour who constantly bothered you and Derek about absolutely nothing. But instead, six women stood in the hall. Some of them bearing a striking resemblance to Derek. You only recognized one, Derek’s ex-wife Savannah.

“Hi, we’re looking for Derek Morgan.” One of the women said, looking at you with confusion and then giving the same look back to Savannah.

You had met Savannah a few times. The first was when you and Derek started to get serious—which was your idea since they had a son together. Since then, you had only been around each other a few times when Derek spent time with Hank.

“Of course. Come in, I’ll go get him.” You said as you opened the door wider.

You moved to the side so they could easily get into the apartment. Once they were all settled in the living room and after offering them refreshments, you excused yourself and went to wake up Derek. You hurriedly crossed the apartment and snuck back into the bedroom. You walked around to Derek’s side of the bed and began to shake him awake.

Sleepily he mumbled, “baby girl, you need to get you cute butt back into bed. We still had time before we need to get ready.”

While suppressing a laugh, you answered him. “As much as I would love that—and I really would—Savannah is here with some women. They’re sitting in the living room.”

He just groaned as a response but made no move to get up.

“You asked for this Derek…” you said with a sigh, and then you pulled the covers off of him. “Derek Morgan.Get your handsome ass out of bed.”

He gave you a sleepy grin and then slowly got out of bed. After placing a quick kiss on your lips, he began to get dressed. You walked back into the living room, catching the attention of the women.

“He’s just going to be a minute or two.” You said with a smile.

They thanked you, and then you went back into the kitchen to finish up Derek’s breakfast. You plated his food—already having eaten yours—and got the coffee ready just as he finished getting ready. You stood in the kitchen, just observing, as Derek walked into the living room. You just couldn’t fathom how someone could look so hot, having just woken up. Unfortunately, you didn’t have that same luck. He greeted the women with hugs and kisses on the cheeks, Savannah included, which you were used to.

They all sat back down and got comfortable. As soon as Derek looked like he was comfy, you took that as your cue to bring him his food and coffee. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, and you sat on the arm of the recliner.

“Mama, Auntie, Cindi, Desiree, Sarah, this is my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N.” Derek introduced you, making sure to look at each woman as he said their names so you could connect names and faces. They all offered greetings in response.

“You’re giving him the wife experience honey, not the girlfriend experience,” joked Desiree, who you learned was Derek’s sister.

“Well he deserves it. And it is pretty rare since he’s away a lot,”

You answered with a smile.

“Aw. The two of you are so sweet. How long have you been together?”

Derek answered before you even began to think of a response.

“We’ve been together for a year ma’”

Sarah, Derek’s other sister, turned to Savannah;

“What do you think of Y/N?”

“I really like her, and I’m glad Derek is happy. It’s disappointing that we didn’t work out, especially since we have Hank but, I’m glad we’re in a place where we can be friends. She’s also extremely nice and amazing with Hank so that’s also really great.”

When she finished her spiel, she looked at you and offered a smile. You returned said smile with a matching one, hoping it conveyed that what she said warmed your heart. You had spent an abundance of time trying to connect with Savannah and Hank since they were an essential part of Derek’s life.

Sarah seemed to be thinking while exchanging signals with the other females in the room. Then, finally, she turned to you and had a small smile on her face.

“Y/N, what do you say to lunch with us?” Sarah asked, gesturing to the other females.

“I think I would really like that.

taglist: @multixfandomwriter @gspenc

@ssa-morgan @myescapefromthislife @1-800-brain-and-heart

@j-cat

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Seven: It’s Always the Last Place You Look

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Slippery Nipple turns out to be the kind of establishment where you’re hesitant to put your lips to the water glasses based on the overall cleanliness of the place. He asks a bored waitress whether they have any redhead dancers and she sends over a woman whose fire engine locks match her messily applied lipstick, and he leaves after giving her a twenty for the trouble.

Hips and Hops hardly qualifies as a strip club at all; it’s more of a restaurant with scantily clad servers, some of whom are men.

He arrives at his final stop, Damsels in Dominance, just past 11 pm and hopes it will be a quick visit so he can go home and sleep. He may need to pause his search for a couple days after tonight based on how exhausted he feels, or possibly take some time off work so he can get a hotel in Philly while he works through the rest of his list. Parking in the rear lot, he enters a small foyer with a bulky Black man seated behind a counter to his right, looking more like he belongs on a football field than in a club. The man wordlessly holds out his hand and points to a sign that indicates there is a twenty dollar cover, which Mulder pays before pushing open a second door. To his right, there is a long hallway and a set of bathrooms, and in front of him another door that reads “Enter Here to be Dominated.” He pulls the door open, wondering if he’ll find whips and chains on the other side, but is instead greeted by loud, pulsing music and the hum of hundreds of voices. The place looks relatively clean and organized, a bar on the left and a stage on the right that is currently unoccupied. On the back wall are this club’s iteration of VIP rooms, a few of which have the curtains pulled closed. He finds a seat along the wall at the end of the bar and looks around, surprised by the variety in body types of the topless women circulating the floor.

A woman carrying a tray approaches him to take his drink order and he requests a Coke. She returns with it a couple minutes later, setting it down on a napkin.

“Thanks,” he says, handing her a ten. “Hey, do you have any dancers working here who have red hair?”

At the beginning of this journey it had felt like an awkward question to ask, but he soon enough realized how ordinary an occurrence it was at such establishments for men to ask after their specific type.

“Just one,” the woman replies, counting change from her apron, “Desiree. She’s here tonight, probably on stage within the next hour.”

He nods and hands the change back to her, which she accepts with an appreciative smile. Mulder looks around the room, noticing that it seems to be grouped by type of customer. He is seated among other men who came here alone, the younger, rowdy men are near the stage and older men in the middle. One of the VIP rooms opens and a quarterback-type young man steps out smiling, high-fiving his buddies in celebration of whatever he just enjoyed in there. A woman follows him out, immediately turning to head towards a door near the stage, and he does a double take. He stands reflexively, but stops himself short, instead watching her auburn hair and bare back disappear through the door frame. He thinks he catches sight of her tattoo just before it closes behind her, and his stomach clenches. Was that Scully? His Scully? Topless and having just spent time with some jock in a private room? His heart is racing and he feels a little sick.

“Are you okay?” The waitress is standing nearby again, looking at him with concern.

Mulder sits down hard, nodding and running his hands over his face. After looking for her for weeks, he suddenly wonders if he’s going to have a hard time accepting what he’s found. He sits and waits, bouncing his leg nervously and chewing his straw into shreds; he wishes he’d thought to bring sunflower seeds. His eyes dart from the door Scully had disappeared through to various other possible points of entry, waiting for her to reemerge. After a while, the adrenaline wears off and he slumps back, exhausted. Maybe he’d imagined it, or maybe it was a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Scully, but wasn’t her. He surprises himself by desperately hoping that it wasn’t.

The music fades out and a male voice booms from some amorphous location he can’t pinpoint.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Ben Jammin, live on the turntable, here to welcome the beautiful Desiree to the stage. Please, show her some love.”

Continue Reading

[usuallyamazinglyaverage]

Side By Side [Ethan x MC]

Hey there, ya lovely people!

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and got to celebrate the season of giving with your family and friends. To end this year properly, I’m back with a bit of writing :)

I’m not gonna lie, the two months before the holidays were really rough and I had to sort so much shit out. It just kept me from most things I love doing in my free time, including talking with my friends and writing. That’s why this one took me a while to finish.

(Nevermind the fact that I rewrote this fic like two times, but that’s a story for another day)

I’ll most likely take a break from OH oneshots for a while (unless inspiration strikes me), but I am still working on stuff, inluding one or two AUs and fics for some other fandoms. I hope a breather to get my muse back on track is alright with you all ;)

I wish you all a safe journey into the next year - let’s pray it’ll be a better one <3

As always, I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Please enjoy!

Summary: Big steps in a relationship are always difficult - this one is no exception.

Warnings: Just some light teasing and a bit of language - this is mostly cheesy fluff <3 (I know, I’m surprised as well)

Note: MC of the fic is Annabelle Dawson. I created the header myself, hope it’s pleasing to the eye :) This is set a few months after the end of Book 2.

Taglist:  @perriewinklenerdie @andromedasinclaire @radlovedreamer @amillionmoonsred @hopelessromantic1352 @cordoniaqueensworld @paisleylovergirl  @fangirlingmum @bucket-harrington @lu-ciq @fairyrink @princess-geek @cyb3r-kat​ @whenyourheartskipsabeat @lady-kato @queenof1000days @sunflowergirl05 @jlpplays1 @tacohead13 @the-soot-sprite  @chasingrobbie @padfoot0415 @desiree-0816 @togetherwearerapture @thisperfectmemory @furiouscloddonutpeanut @tabootheunicorn @rookie-ramsey @theroseduelist @drakewalkerfantasy @lapisreviewsstuff @jooous @aworldoffandoms @edgiestwinter @inlovewithrebels @topsyturvy-dream @cerisesayeed-ramsey @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @marywitchjane @adrianrainesworld @zodiacsign1 @silverlitskies @trappedinfandoms @sherlockedmcu @drethanramslay @awhmilkywey @htgawparksandrec @theeccentricbibliophile @mvalentine @desmaranj @schnitzelbutterfingers @colourmeshy @mal-volaris @kaavyaethanramsey @riverrune @honeyandsunfl0wers @humanpokemon @ethandaddyramsey @lilyvalentine @mrsdrakewalkerblog @openheart12 @bellcat2010 @datynasuha  @caseyvalentineramsey @ethxnrxmsey @squishywizardhq @custaroonie @beckaroo @colossalpainintheass @takemyopenheart @justanotherrookie @honeyandsunfl0wers @maurine07  @grandnachoconnoisseur @dr-ramseys-rookie @myusualnerdyself @mrs-raleighcarrera @akshara16 @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @alookseeblog​

Song: If You Love Her by Forest Blakk

Ethan tried very hard to not look like he was running – and was failing spectacularly.

Some of his colleagues had to dodge out of his way as he strode through the hallways, white coat fluttering behind him, hands stuffed into the pockets. Slipping into the stairwell, the attending took two steps at a time, reaching the bottom floor quickly.

The atrium was packed, lit by the bright gray sky beyond the ceiling windows - reminding him that he was supposed to be busy in his office right now. Christmas was just around the corner, and after Edenbrook’s reopening, the paperwork had simply piled up, barely giving him time to bring some distance between him and his desk.

He dreaded going back already - but there was something he had to take care of first. Something that felt pivotal for his motivation right now.

Turning his head, Ethan let his eyes wander through the spacious room, from the stairs to the entrance and back again. Finally, he spotted a mess of golden locks, tucked into the usual practical ponytail.

She was with her friends, Trinh and Varma, already dressed in her day-to-day clothes, the strap of her bag slung over one shoulder. The two other women gave her a hug, shooing her along.

Ethan couldn’t help but feel silly when her bell-like, resounding laugh made his heart lurch in his chest, lifting his mood immediately.

Anna turned on her heels with one last wave and headed towards the doors, tucking up her scarf and the lapels of her jacket to ward off the oncoming cold. He waited until her friends went back to their conversation before following her, maneuvering through the crowd and catching up with the younger doctor in the light snowdrift outside.

His hand on her shoulder coaxed a tiny yelp from her, hazel eyes looking up at him with a gratified sort of wonder.

"Ethan? What-"

The older doctor cut Anna off by directing her against the wall framing the entrance, cupping her chin and gently tilting it up for easier access. The kiss was rougher than he would have liked, muscle memory taking over as he nipped on the corner of her mouth.

His former intern, however, didn’t seem to mind, parting her lips with a soft sigh.

Sliding his hands to the back of her jaw, he drew Anna closer, the sugary taste of her dissipating the rest of his stress. He smiled when she grew boneless against him, delicate fingers twirling his tie.

Eventually, they had to come up for oxygen, both drawing away with barely audible hums. Anna’s thoroughly addled expression filled him with an odd pride, her lashes fluttering against her reddened cheeks.

"Is it my birthday?“ she breathed. "Did I accidentally invent the cure for cancer? There must be something I did to deserve this."

"Actually, I just... wanted to wish you a good day," Ethan murmured, tucking a lock behind her ear. "We barely saw each other the past few days. I feel like I can’t catch a break at the moment."

Tenderness seeped into her gaze, liquefying the color to a point where he wanted to drown in it and never come out again.

"Did this help?"

He chuckled. "More than you know."

"Well, feel free to do that anyti-"

"Anna?"

Ethan jumped away from her, whirling around.

This is what you get for leaving your office, a perfidious voice nagged at the very back of his tumbling thoughts.

The tip of his ears flushed hot and he had to force himself to not look away from the woman standing a few feet from them, a grin plastered on her face.

"Hi, gran," Anna offered weakly, pushing herself off the wall. "You, um, you remember Doctor Ramsey?"

Greta Dawson gave them both an impish wink. "Hard to forget this one, right?" She looked between the two for a moment. "You don’t call him 'doctor' usually though, do you? Not that I’m one to judge."

Jesus.

Ethan rubbed the flushed back of his neck, desperately trying to find his dignity among the thick snowflakes swirling from the sky.

He had met Anna’s pint-sized grandmother a little over a year ago, after assisting in an operation that had ultimately saved her life. She was a cheeky, terrifying force of nature, intimidating in a very specific way. Mostly because meeting her had felt substantial – even then. Greta was the only relative Anna had left and as such, the older doctor didn’t want to make a bad impression.

Which he probably just did. Wonderful.

Straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat, he offered his palm. "It’s nice to see you again, Greta." The old woman chortled, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. "Likewise, Doctor Dreamy.“

Next to him, Anna groaned, burying her face against his chest. "Please take me back to work." Despite his still burning ears, Ethan frowned down at her. "Absolutely not. You worked the longest shifts this week." The blonde answered his frown with one of her own. "Traitor."

Her pout was distracting and painfully cute, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight. "Go," he urged after a moment of indulgence. "Spend some time with your family.“ The jig was already up, so he leaned down to press another gentle kiss to her lips, this one far more modest than he would have liked. "I’ll see you on Monday."

"I have a better idea," Greta interrupted cheerfully, twiddling her fingers at the two doctors. "How about you join our dinner tomorrow?" Opening and closing her mouth, Anna glanced at Ethan while shuffling her feet. "I mean I... I like that thought. We're making lasagna?"

There was that coyness of hers again, making him wonder if she really didn’t know how utterly charming she was – and that there were very few things that he wouldn't do for her.

"I like that thought too,“ he said, his voice quiet but certain, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze.  “Call me when you get home?“

"I will." Anna brushed her thumb along his scruffy jaw, smiling hesitantly.

"Have fun, Rookie." His blues flicked over to her grandmother, who was watching their exchange with obvious curiosity. "And, ah, you too, Greta."

The old woman winked once again. "We’ll see you tomorrow, Ethan."

“Damn.”

Anna stared into the mirror, grimacing at the smudge of mascara, just below her left eye. Sighing, she slipped the tiny brush back into the silver tube, exchanging it for q-tip to correct the mistake.

Her fingers were still shaky.

Wiping the black from her skin, she tried not to think about the man waiting for her in the kitchen – a hard thing to do when there were reminders of him all around her.

Her toothbrush rested next to his in a tall cup on the spacious sink.

Her towel occupied a shelf next to the shower.

His cologne and her perfume both permeated the air.

Reminders of him – reminders of them. All things she never would have thought possible half a year ago. Usually, the sight of shared commitment was a beautiful, giddiness-inducing facet of their relationship for her. Tonight, she couldn't help but wonder if Ethan was feeling smothered by it all.

Dinner with her grandmother was a step Anna hadn't even considered until she had caught them red-handed yesterday. Greta knew about Ethan, knew about the chaotic circumstances that had brought them together at last, but she had never expressed the wish to meet him in an official capacity.

Just one of the many firsts that he had been a part of.

Taking a deep breath, the young doctor tossed the q-tip into the trash bin, smoothing her hands along the burgundy fabric of her casual dress and her black tights – a last effort to calm herself.

The hallway outside of the bathroom was much cooler, making Anna shiver as she made her way to the kitchen.

Ethan was leaning against the island, his crisp white oxford peeking through his unbuttoned coat. Tapping away on his phone, he uncrossed his legs, dark slacks rustling quietly. He looked a little bit unreal in the dim light. An apparition, summoned by the farthest reaches of her mind.

“You're staring,” he informed her, finally looking up and interrupting her ogling.

Anna tried her hardest not to appear embarrassed, but her traitorous face heated at the comment anyway.

“You look nice,” she muttered, casting her gaze to the ceiling for a moment before meeting his once again.

Ethan chuckled, pushing himself off the island and crossing the distance between them. “You just stole my line.” His eyes swept over the dress, the blue heavy and eager. “Though 'nice' seems very much insufficient.” Stopping a few inches away from her, he pressed a lingering kiss to Anna's cheekbone. “You're stunning.”

The warmth in his voice broke her heart just a little. Anna wrapped her arms around his waist, letting his scent wash over her. Ethan stilled, one of his hands finding the back of her neck and weaving through the loose golden curls there. He didn't say anything right away, granting this moment of respite.

“You're nervous, aren't you.”

Perceptive as ever.

She released a long breath and traced the pattern of his coat. “Not because of the dinner itself.” Lifting her head, she studied his face before pressing on. “I'm just wondering if you're alright. We've really picked up the pace.”

Surprised, Ethan raised his brows. “Are you asking me if I have cold feet?”

“I... suppose I am.”

“Anna.” There was a note of gentle admonishment in his voice, urging her to listen. “You're here every second weekend. Yesterday, I practically begged you to come over, because we're barely seeing each other at work. Does that sound like I'm questioning my decision to be with you?” His lips brushed her temple. “I'll admit that your grandmother terrifies me. But that doesn't mean I don't want to get to know her better.”

“Well, now I feel silly,” she murmured sheepishly.

Ethan huffed out a soft laugh, tickling the shell of her ear. “Maybe I like that about you.” He pulled away, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You and your busy brain.” Lacing their fingers for a brief moment, he nodded his head towards the door. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Anna sighed, letting him help her put on her jacket and lead her out of the apartment.

The drive to her grandmother's place felt far too short.

Her leg wiggled every time they passed another green light, forcing Ethan to rest his palm on it to soothe her. He did so wordlessly, keeping it there until he shut off the motor and offering it to her when they walked up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment complex. She took it, ever grateful for his quiet support.

The blonde fumbled with her set of keys when they reached the door, almost dropping them when it opened on it's own, revealing a her apron-clad grandmother.

“Gran,” she chastised, letting the old woman pull her into a hug. “Were you waiting by the door?”

“Nonsense, dear,” Greta sniffed, rubbing her back with a little too much enthusiasm.

Anna could practically hear the lie in her affronted tone, masking her pained sigh with a small cough. “Right. A preposterous notion.”

“Just as preposterous as denying me this view for past few months.” Her grandmother gestured over to Ethan, who had watched their exchange with a subdued smile. “The women in our family did always have an eye for the finer things in life, I must say,” she mused. “Come in, you two.”

Anna couldn't help but swallow as she watched Ethan hang up his coat and enter her childhood home. The furniture, the décor and even the comforting smell of chamomile and laundry detergent was the same, reminding her of days past.

With him in the middle of it all, it felt like two separate dimensions colliding and forming something she couldn't quite name. He looked both out of place and like he belonged as they followed Greta into the kitchen.

Handing her grandmother the expensive bottle of Château Monbrison the young doctor had chosen from his wine stash a few hours ago, Ethan rubbed the side of neck. “Anna told me this is your favorite. Thank you again for the invitation.”

Greta regarded him with amusement. “That's a very sweet gesture, Ethan. Tell me, how good is your cooking?”

“I -” At a loss for words, he looked over at Anna.

“He's great,” she affirmed hastily, flushing at her choice of defense. “I mean his cooking. It's great. Very good.”

“Wonderful. How about you help me prepare the rest of the lasagna then, my boy?” Her grandmother patted Anna's shoulder. “Could you be a dear and set the table? I've already left the plates in the dining room.”

“But-”

“Snowbell.” Greta brushed a lock out of her granddaughters face. “Don't worry. You'll get him back without even one hair out of place.”

On her way out of the kitchen, Anna caught Ethan's gaze, the two doctors exchanging a small, equally nervous smile before they were separated.

In the quiet of the dining room, the blonde took a shaky breath, trying to sort her thoughts as she moved plates, glasses and silverware around.

She should have expected this.

Anna trusted and loved her grandmother, dearly, but she could be a bit much at times. Then again, she had never taken such an interest in any of her partners. In Canada, she had been too far away to truly introduce her first long-term boyfriend and once she had finally returned to Boston, the relationship was already over.

And Michael – well. Nothing good had come of being with him.

Ethan was the most complicated man she had ever met by far – but he was her future. The thought strengthened every day she spend with him, every time she looked into his eyes and every time he held her close.

It was far too soon to tell him, however.

And that was exactly why she was nervous about the prospect of her Greta and Ethan alone together.

“You've been holding that fork for quite a while now.”

Startled out of her musings, Anna turned around, almost stumbling into the older doctor. He caught her by the elbows, gently prying the silverware from her fingers and setting it down.

“You're done already?” she wondered, blinking at him.

Ethan chuckled. “It's been a little over ten minutes. Lost in thought again?”

“...Can you blame me?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it wasn't as bad as you probably imagined. You're supposed to show me your room, by the way. Something about it being the prelude to embarrassing baby pictures.”

The blonde groaned, hooking her arm around his and pulling him back into the hallway. “Fine. But you better be gentle. It hasn't been renovated since I was sixteen.”

“I thought you liked it when I'm not gentle,” Ethan teased, earning himself a smack to his chest when they entered the room on the far end.

Closing the battered wood behind them, Anna watched nervously as he moved to the middle of the room, his height dwarfing the old furniture to ridiculous proportions.

His gaze wandered over the walls, the faded teal plastered over by posters and photographs. Taking a few steps closer to the scratched up vanity next to her bed, the older doctor plucked a picture from the frame of the mirror.

She fought to urge to take it from him, mashing her lips together.

Her twenty-year-old self in this particular photo looked like a textbook nerd, much shorter locks braided into two pigtails and clutching her acceptance letter for Boston's med school, while she and Greta grinned at the camera.

Ethan reattached the picture with another chuckle. Then, his gaze fell on her nightstand - and on the book sitting on it.

More specifically, his book.

The unassuming cover was well worn, some of the pages dog-eared. Picking it up, he thumbed through it, raising a brow at Anna.

"What?" she asked a bit too forcefully, cheeks burning.

His mouth twitched, eventually losing the fight against the complacent expression overtaking his features.

"Someone’s a fan," he hummed. "Want to me to sign this one too?"

"That depends," the blonde huffed, crossing her arms. "Do I need to undertake another ridiculous task before you do it?“

Grinning, Ethan tossed the book back and crooked a finger at her. "How about you come over here and kiss me, Rookie? You can decide after if that’s asking too much."

"You’re ridiculous," she murmured, walking up to him hesitantly and slipping her hands around his neck with a pout. Something utterly triumphant twinkled in his deep blues as he craned his head down, meeting her in the middle.

The kiss was soft, slow and warm, tasting faintly of toothpaste. Ethan wrapped his arms around Anna’s waist, lifting her from her tiptoes and setting her down on the bed, his lips never leaving hers.

There was a comfort in his body covering her own, the pleasant buzz of it all coaxing a faint moan from her throat.

Eventually, they had to come up for air, Ethan’s nose nuzzling her cheek.

"You know, you're the first guy to make out with me on this bed," she said thoughtfully and brushed her knuckles over his jaw, enjoying the texture of his beard against her skin.

The attending pushed himself onto one elbow, his free fingers mapping the curve of her hip. "I'm not sure how much more information my ego can take. I'm this close to begging for mercy."

"Oh my god." Anna pulled him back to her by his hair, their laughter mingling until they were breathless once more.

Eventually, Ethan rolled off to the side, facing the younger doctor on the mattress. It was oddly soothing, having him share the tiny bed with her. A peaceful little bubble, after the start of what was bound to be an eventful afternoon.

It gave her courage to ask the question sitting at the forefront of her mind.

“What did you and my grandmother talk about?”

Ethan's jaw tensed for a brief second, his palm lifting to find her face.

“She told me about the state you were in the week after I had left for the Amazon.” His calloused thumb drew a half circle. “And to be more careful with your heart this time around.”

“Or she'll put you six-feet-under?” Anna questioned weakly.

“No.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “No, she asked me while offering me a glass of wine. She's just worried, princess. And she has every right to be.”

“Ethan...”

“I can't ever take back what I did, Anna,” he sighed. “We both know that. You forgive me so easily every time I mess up and I shouldn't take it for granted. Even your endless patience will run out eventually.”

“You're worth it. You always were.”

Hazel and blue connected, both achingly soft.

“So are you.”

Unspoken words, unspoken emotions, enriched by the dim light falling through pale curtains, drowning the space in silence and contentment.

“Should we get back?” Anna murmured, careful not to disturb the tender moment with her voice. “My grandmother is probably waiting for us.”

“In a minute.” Forehead tipping down to meet hers, Ethan dragged her close, breathing her in. “In a minute, sweetheart.”

A/N: So cheesy. Was a lot of fun to write though :3

[crystal-moon-101]

I thought I'd finally get around to drawing basic reference images for me and friend's Tangled Next Gen main cast, starring the kids of Eugene, Rapunzel, Varian and Cass, along with their personalities and ideas behind them. I'll be going through them from left to right. (Somethings about them might change over time as they are still in concept phase.) -Jason Lance Fitzherbert- One of the twin boys who are Rapunzel and Eugene's first kids, Jason is the wild child and daredevil of the family, having taken many aspect from his father's old days as Flynn Rider. Jason was never one for the royal or castle life style, wanting to live life on the edge, go on extreme adventures and become famous and rich in his own right, rather than being born into it. However, this does mean he often gets into trouble with the law, including his father who is the captain. Eugene and Jason are known to argue a lot, with Eugene wanting to change his son's course of life before he ends up like he had been, ans strongly suggests Jason changes his way of living, but his son won't listen. Despite all that, Jason is a kind heart underneath and does have his moral and standards, known to take on difficult tasks for people he knows needs the help. Plus, he's often the one trying to drag his brother from work, and protect his younger sister from negative looks or comments thrown his way. Jason loves his parents, but he is frustrated by the fact that they think he'll end up being a crime lord boss or something, instead of an free-spirit adventurer. He's also a killer when it comes to the ladies~ -Fraser Edmund Fitzherbert- First born child to Rapunzel and Eugene but a minute, Fraser is the twin to Jason and very much his opposite. Fraser took on the royal life and has been studying his entire life to become the next King of Corona, being a lot more calm and responsible compared to his brother. Unfortunately, he's also a workaholic and is often found working himself to the bone to be the best he can be, struggling to control himself and learning to relax when it's needed. His parents are proud of him, but often encourage him to take a break or to calm down in his studies, but it hardly ever works as Fraser is a stubborn man, wanting to be the best for his Kingdom. While him and his brother are opposites and can get on each other's nerves, they do spend quality time together, Jason often coming to Fraser when he wants to understand about the parts of being a prince he should know, and Fraser often getting dragged away from work by Jason when they know he needs to relax. Fraser is also close to his little sister, as they both enjoy quiet times together, like reading, writing, music playing and sometimes drawing. Fraser also as a lot of admirers, flirtatious comments normal to him, but he's far to busy to date at the moment. -Desiree Amalia Fitzherbert- Desiree is the youngest of Rapunzel and Eugene's kid, and quite the oddity. When she was born, it was found that she had traces of Celestial Magic, no doubt whatever was left behind on Rapunzel (Given she was bonded to a stone for so long), resulting in Desiree's long black hair. Unfortunately, her magic is tied to the powers of death that came from the Moonstone, able to use the Decay Incantation to harm people. However, she is not as powerful as the Moonstone, or does she have all the Celestial powers, the only ones being the Decay Incantation (Which can only hurt people, not kill them) and the long unbreakable hair. It didn't take long for people to realize that she had these powers, which led to a lot of issues growing up, even earning the nickname 'Princess Of Death' from the people and other Kingdoms around her, people in fear of her powers, or even disgusted by what she is. This, of course, led to confidence issues for Desiree, becoming a quiet young lady who wasn't good a socializing, spending time away from the public or only hanging out with people she was close to. This also led to troubles with her relationship towards her mother, as the two are complete opposites and struggle to get along. They love each other and mean well, but they don't know how to approach each other, with Desiree finding her mother to be too pushy or excitable at times. She loves her mother, don't get her wrong, but sometimes Desiree can't help but feel like she wasn't the daughter her mother wanted... -Lumen Lilith Halvard - Lumen is the only child to Varian, and is very much a daddy's girl who idolizes her father. She displays many of his traits, being intelligent, creative, hardworking, witty and blunt, but she also seems to display traits similar to auntie Rapunzel, being rather cheery, optimistic, empathetic, and even having a habit of leaving cute details around her work, like doodling on her blueprints, painting pretty symbols on her gear, or even giving her alchemical solutions a loving scent to it, one of her gas balls being lavender scented. She's very quick to offer her help to people, or often finds herself being the middle ground between arguments, like his Fraser and Jason are arguing over something, or if Desiree and Eden get into a squabble. Growing up she had the mentality of being an honest person and accepting reality as it is, mostly because Varian would answer her curious questions growing up, even telling her the story of his past, so she is very aware of what happened to him once, but still loves her dad with all her heart. Though, like him, she is a danger magnet and has known to cause an explosion or two. Like father, like daughter. -Eden Halle Vogel-

Eden is the only daughter of Cassandra, and shows a very similar trait to Desiree. Like the young princess, Eden was born with signs of Celestial Magic, but hers being the opposite to Desiree, having long, white, unbreakable healing hair. Much like Desiree, her powers are not as strong as the stones, only able to do the Healing Incantation (Though it can't revive people from the dead), and having unbreakable hair. Though, unlike Desiree, this led to people praising Eden, and many going to her for help with injuries or illnesses. This led to her being a confident young woman who loves to help people, but is mostly humble thanks to Cassandra's teachings, not wanting the praise to go to her daughter's head. Also with her mother and grandfather's teachings, she has grown to be a strong, bold and striking warrior, always quick on the defense when danger is around, ready to jump into any action that comes her way. But while she is mostly confident and humble, she does have a protective, sometime aggressive, streak to her when someone frustrates her or says something bad about her or the people in her life, and can be quick to say the first thing that comes to mind by mistake. Eden is close to her mother, having many similarities, though there have been times where it feels like Cass is trying too hard with training Eden, as if afraid Eden could fall down the same path she did years ago. There is also a running joke that people point out how Eden is a warrior, yet has healing powers, once even healing her foe so she could beat the crap out of them again.  

[tabloidtoc]

In Touch, April 26

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Duchess Kate's revenge on Meghan Markle

Page 1: Contents

Page 2: Spring Cleaning -- it's that time of year again, and these products can help -- Nina Dobrev cleaning her floor

Page 4: Introducing Real Housewives All-Stars -- the most beloved table-flipping, drink-tossing, backstabbing stars from Real Housewives NYC, New Jersey, Atlanta and Beverly Hills casts are uniting for an all-star series on the streaming service Peacock and since everyone knows group trips make for the wildest episodes, the show will be filmed for two weeks at a Caribbean resort

Page 5: Angelina Jolie seems to be turning into quite the social butterfly as just weeks after her casual dinner with Ellen Pompeo then DJ Diplo posted an Instagram video with a woman who looks an awful lot like Angie, Number of the Week -- 2.25 million dollars fetched for Tom Brady's rookie football card, Gratitude of the Week -- Lena Dunham explaining how Glenn Close once cut her out of a too-tight corset at a black-tie event, Wife of the Week -- Megan Mullally on introducing her husband Nick Offerman to society, Makeover of the Week -- Iggy Azalea revealed bright green locks

Page 6: Crib of the Week -- Jerry Seinfeld's Colorado hideway in Telluride for sale, Winner of the Week -- Pete Davidson finally moves out of his mom's house on Staten Island and gets his own pad, Loser of the Week -- Bridgerton fans because Rege-Jean Page who plays the Duke of Hastings has confirmed he will not return next season

Page 8: Up Close -- Lady Gaga in a wedding dress playing Black Widow Patrizia Reggiani on the set of House of Gucci

Page 10: Brioni house ambassador Brad Pitt strikes a pose for the brand's Spring/Summer 2021 campaign, Nicole Kidman who will play Lucille Ball in Being the Ricardos shares a cheeky on-set pic, Kate Beckinsale straps her cat Clive to her chest in a carrier

Page 12: Planet Hollywood -- stars give back for Earth Day -- Zac Efron shows how bees are affected by pollution on his show Down to Earth with Zac Efron, Gisele Bundchen picks some herbs, Kelis working in the garden

Page 13: Nikki Reed and her chicken, Bella Hadid gets down and dirty sowing 1500 lavender plants at her family's farm in Pennsylvania, Jenna Fischer and her new orange tree

Page 16: Dwayne Johnson shows off the fruits of his labor in the gym, Christopher Meloni joked that he's a big boy after fans notice his ample behind on the set of Law & Order: Organized Crime, Madonna and daughter Lourdes Leon pose for a selfie, Katy Perry standing on a toilet in the American Idol bathroom

Page 20: Kim Kardashian has officially become a billionaire, but not everyone in her family is congratulating her, as sister Kylie Jenner is annoyed because Kim is being so smug about it -- Kylie is proud of her makeup line, and she thinks Kim basically just copied her business model with KKW Beauty and Skims -- meanwhile Kim never misses the chance to point out to her whole family that none of them would be rich or famous without her, they'd be nobodies -- when Kim found out Kylie might be a billionaire, she made it her mission to do the same because she's famously competitive and Kim didn't just set out to best Kylie in business, she wants to destroy all of her sisters and this is natural sibling rivalry but of course Kim is acting like it's war

Page 21: Rapper and actor DMX, real name Earl Simmons, died at age 50 after being on life-support for a week following a heart attack at his New York home -- the father of 15 had long struggled with substance abuse, which reportedly triggered his cardiac arrest -- he showed few signs of trouble in his final days: his fiancee Desiree Lindstrom shared a video of the healthy looking and upbeat star jamming to a Michael Jackson tune, and his final single X Moves was released the day he died, but secretly, he was struggling

Page 22: Cover Story -- Meghan Markle snubbed by the royal family -- Meghan was banned from Prince Philip's funeral as her husband Prince Harry returns to the U.K. for the first time since Megxit -- the royals truly are hoping to heal the rift with Harry, but the chances of that happening are slim if Meghan is around because the family just doesn't trust Meghan anymore

Page 24: Prince Philip's life in pictures

Page 28: Is Tiger Woods hiding something? The investigation into the golfer's horrific car crash is concluded, but questions linger

Page 30: True Crime -- Till Death Do Us Part? San Diego mom May "Maya" Millete vanishes after making an appointment with a divorce lawyer

Page 32: The Big Interview -- Margaret Josephs of The Real Housewives of New Jersey

Page 36: And the Oscar goes to...these must-haves for that virtual soiree you're hosting on Hollywood's biggest night -- Lady Gaga with her Oscar

Page 38: Fashion -- Long Live Tie-Dye -- this psychedelic print is still going strong -- Addison Rae, Kourtney Kardashian

Page 40: Animal Overload -- my dog looks Hoda Kotb

Page 46: Horoscope -- Taurus Renee Zellweger turned 52 on April 25

Page 48: Last Laughs

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 2 - All Excerpts

Chapter 2

Jolene and Rowan weren’t there the next day at school, and I could not help but worry, even though I had not known them very long.

Jolene Frost had, in all the time that I knew her, struck me as the kind of girl who would spontaneously accept two tickets to Mars without even bothering to check if a ticket back to earth was included or not.

Rowan Frost, on the other hand, was the kind of guy who would agree to go with Jolene just because he didn’t want her to die alone.

That being said, they could be anywhere and could have done anything, at any given point of time.

Or maybe they were just stuck with the flu; it was hard to tell.

It was gym class, and I was failing miserably at playing dodge ball.

Obviously.

I mean, firstly, who would ever invent a sport that required one poor team to dodge oncoming, never-ending ball-attacks from a horde of people with murder hand-signed in their every throw? Secondly, couldn’t we have done something more, I don’t know, survivable? Like yoga, or some warm-up exercises? Even volleyball would’ve been better. And I am not sharing the details of my history with volleyball, so you know it’s bad.

A cherry-red ball flew in my direction as I awkwardly stood towards the side of the wooden-floored court, minding my own business, and staring at the edgy sides of the tiles on the floor. I looked up, and immediately scrambled away before the blood-colored devil could cause severe damage to my liver. I imagine I looked like a dying fish fresh out of the water when I did so. I then jogged at least six feet from my original position, where the ball had almost caused my untimely demise.

And when another spherical shaped hell-denizen came flying at my face, I would be forced to run for it again, with Coach Anderson shouting at us to ‘suck it up and run it down’. And so the cycle goes on, until, of course, the ball finally hits me.

One such clumsy attempt got me crashing into Desiree, one of the sympathetic girls in my class I’d befriended earlier that day. You could pinpoint her easily because of her dark skin and striking blue eyes. She was about two heads shorter than me, had long black hair, and wore clothes so loose they looked like they could fall off of her any minute now. Her hair and eyes had seemed very vaguely familiar.

“Careful,” she called as we both almost stumbled and fell. Her voice had a strangely husky undertone to it.

“This is an idiotic sport,” I declared.

Desiree grimaced as she dusted her clothes. “Dangerous, more like,” she said, as she expertly dodged another attack.

“You seem to be good at it,” I pointed out obviously.

“Three years of putting up with it will do that to you,” she smiled.

“Maybe we could pretend to be two of the throwers...” I suggested.

But I had no more room to think, because everything that happened after that happened in rapid succession.

Somebody had, for reasons that I did not fully understand, lost their presence of mind and had thrown the ball high into the air – twenty-five feet as far as I could tell – without any telling as to where it would land.

And, just as luck would have it, the ball fell smack on my head, hard.

The impact itself was not anything that could cause real damage; the ball was made of soft, rubbery material. It was just the surprise of it that sent me to the ground, head banging against the nearby wall, and elbow scraping harshly on the sharp edge of a slim wooden tile.

The entire class immediately surrounded me with the curiosity that an animal-loving person would bestow on a wild rabbit. Coach Anderson bumbled forward, his face as pink as fresh meat, his black coach’s whistle swinging wildly about his person.

“How are you doing there, boy?” he half-shouted, as though worried my ears had been damaged as well.

I attempted to get up with as much grace as I could, my elbow tingling, and said in what I thought was a confident voice, “I’m fine, sir.”

“But you’re bleeding,” pointed out a somewhat distraught Desiree; she’d been standing closest to me when I fell, and seemed to be the only one concerned about whether I had injured myself or not.

She was staring at my elbow, where, sure enough, a thin red line travelled its way across, a drop of scarlet threatening to drip.

I hastily covered the wound, so that the blood wouldn’t spill. “Yeah, sorry,” I said.

Desiree looked at me as thought I’d gone mad. “Kenneth,” she said slowly, as though I were a five-year-old being taught a hard life lesson, “I am going to take you to the infirmary now, okay? You know, the place where your wounds get treated and you don’t apologise for acquiring them in the first place?”

I shrugged, unable to come up with anything to say. My head hurt, although that was ebbing, and the cut on my elbow was finally coming to me in a sharp, pin-prick sort of pain that was almost like a burn.

So I let Desiree drag me out of the crowd and to the infirmary.

***********************

“I can still walk, you know,” I informed Desiree as she continued to coo over me in the medicine-smelling infirmary.

The nurse, for reasons that I did not fully understand, was not present by the time we had gotten there, so Desiree attempted to administer my wounds herself, all the while showering assurances that it would be fine, she knew exactly what to do, she’d done this dozens of times for her sister, and I shouldn’t worry, yes?

She gave me an ice-pack that was almost too cold for my head, cleaned the cut on my elbow, applied antiseptic cream and lightly bandaged it, all as if it were something she was born to do.

She was now rifling through the white medicine cabinet. When she re-emerged, she held a mischievous toffee in her hand and gave it to me, turning around sharply and making her school ID swing wildly around her neck.

I took the toffee and slipped it into my pocket.

“Wise choice,” she commented, as she held her ID in place.

And as I looked at the name on the card, I saw something there that made me realise that I had never really asked for her last name.

Or ever really wondered why she’d looked familiar.

Or ever really thought about how everywhere I went, I seemed to find at least something related to this one person.

Because, even though I’d just gotten a glimpse, I could see the name on the ID-card read Desiree Raynott.

***********************

Knightville, I had come to realise, would not be Knightville if it did not rain on a near-constant basis.

It was after school, and the town was grey.

Let me rephrase that. The town was greyer than it normally was, and that was because it was raining heavily.

It was a fact of life that riding a bike in the rain looked cool as long as it was on a screen. In reality, you feel the cold wetness like needles digging into your skin, you feel supremely miserable after said ordeal, and you will most likely become a victim of the wrath of the common cold.

Curse Bleak House for being so far away from school.

Curse me for overlooking the need of my umbrella, which was also irritatingly grey.

Curse the color grey.

By the time I got home, I was sure I was going to be sick. I was wet down to the inside of my skin, my clothes felt so plastered to my body I was I afraid they would never come off, the heat and humidity of the inside of the house made the water feel like sweat, and I was pretty sure my sneakers would perpetually smell like rain.

Lila, who was standing next to the staircase as I dumped my helmet onto a small table next to the door, was also wet, but that was just a pleasant consequence of taking a nice shower. Her hair was lost in a white towel, her cheeks were pink from steam, and she was wearing a blue robe that could only be described as ‘fluffy.’

Her mood, therefore, was also ‘fluffy.’

“Hey there, Ken-doll,” she called, a grin forever plastered on her face,“did the rain give you a hard time?”

“Firstly,” I began, pushing my bag off my shoulders, “you are aware of my opinions on the nickname ‘Ken-doll’. Secondly,” I straightened, and gestured to myself, “what do you think?”

Lila grinned wider.

“Also,” I inquired, “isn’t it a bit too early to take an evening shower?”

“I went out of town today,” she informed me, walking up the stairs, “wanted to go check out a nice bookstore for you. But then it rained, and I just felt really sticky, hence the shower.”

I had to stop myself from frowning. Somehow, that first part had struck me as odd, thinking of going anywhere outside of Knightville. Not like it wasn’t possible, but more like it was improbable for anyone to voluntarily leave.

And like many things in Knightville, it was strange.

But if I were to catalogue all the strange things in Knightville, I’d have a lot to think about.

Scarlett Raynott, for example, and the weird behaviour of her shadow that day. It was much too dark, for one thing, the shape was too in proportion with her real size and girth, and the whites contrasted too much to have not been there. She had looked sick and pale, and the expression on her face seemed almost... dangerous?

This was just the perspective of the tiniest part of my brain warring with the larger, more reasonable part that kept shouting, You need a therapist!

And then there was Jolene and Rowan Frost, who had no sense whatsoever as to when taking time off school would be a good idea.

Not to mention that I currently live in a house where fourteen people were once murdered.

Even that crack on the floor outside the chemistry lab nagged at me a little.

And I didn’t even know why all of this bothered me so much. Was there something wrong with me?

Or was there something wrong with Knightville?

********************************

That night, I decided to finally nose-dive into my ocean-deep pile of homework, which was no mean feat considering there was a perfectly good bed right next to my study-table. Whoever made the judgement that a workspace would do well to be placed in a bedroom clearly didn’t have their head screwed on right.

Now that I come to think about it, it was Lila who had made the judgement in question. But it wasn’t as though her head wasn’t screwed right – it was – she just had a... unique way of using it.

I crossed out a trigonometry sum and commenced redoing it.

But I wasn’t concentrating, not really, and the symbols and ratios seemed more and more confusing with every step I pieced together. I was fairly sure I’d gotten at least four of these sums wrong.

And it did no favours to my concentration when I discovered the existence of a small marker-drawn black dot near the foot of my bed.

Over the past couple of days, I’d paid more attention to these things, marks of a killer, scattered across the house like misplaced socks, and with every new one I found, they looked more and more sinister, and felt unsettling to be around.

And if I stared at one of these marks for too long, I swear I could see them getting-

My phone rang.

I snapped my gaze and reached for my phone. The caller-ID read ‘Cass’.

Cass was short for Cassidy Teigen, Lila’s sister and best friend. We’d lived close to each other last year (Cassidy was settled down in DC), and we had a blast of a year together. Lila and Cassidy were alike in their love for adventure, and in their irresponsibility, having gotten drunk once on New Year’s Eve in a bar. For reasons that I still do not understand, I was on both Lila’s and Cassidy’s speed-dial, so, naturally, I was called to pick them up. And when the people on the other end finally figured out that I was, in fact, a 15-year-old without even a driver’s license, they told me to come with an adult with ID, which I had been originally planning on doing anyway.

When I later questioned the hungover sisters with barely concealed exasperation why they thought I was the correct person to be their designated driver, Lila irritably answered, “Because there’s only one 40-year-old between the three of us, and that’s you, kid.” To which Cassidy had grunted in approval.

So, obviously, Cassidy had been more than a little pissed when Lila politely informed her that we were moving. I could tell as her face instantly fell that she thought I would have done something to stop this – after all, we were happy where we were, weren’t we? We were with the only family that ever cared.

So it was even worse to look at when Lila told Cassidy that we were going to Rhode Island, and that it had been entirely my choice.

For a moment, so many emotions ran across Cassidy’s face that it had been hard to catch it all. Confusion, shock, anger, sorrow, betrayal.

Then Cassidy, instead of saying anything either rebellious or mournful, went completely rigid, stalked out of the apartment with an unreadable look in my direction and a contemptuous, “Damn you, Lila.”

After that, both of us were silent for a long time.

Cassidy didn’t visit us or try to contact us anymore after that, and if we were ever in the same supermarket at the same time, she pretended like we didn’t exist.

Even Lila hadn’t tried with Cassidy, cheerfully-not-so-cheerfully assuring me (herself more than me, I think) that Cassidy would eventually come around – she couldn’t be mad at us forever, now could she?

But she could be mad at us forever, and was, except for once on the day we were moving to give me a small hug, saying that it wasn’t right to hold grudges against children. And as if that weren’t bad enough, she hadn’t so much as glanced at Lila before immediately departing.

And now she was calling me.

I picked up.

“Hello, Cassidy,” I greeted cautiously in a neutral voice.

“Kenneth!” came a startled and strangled cry that made me almost jump out of my seat. “Thank goodness you picked up! I’ve tried calling Lila, but it says her phone’s switched off! You won’t believe – no you definitely won’t – I’m so happy to hear from you; I thought you guys had been kidnapped or something! Hell, I thought you guys were dea-”

“Cassidy!” I intervened.

“Right, right, sorry,” Cassidy cleared her throat. She then added in sweet voice, “How are you, Kenneth?”

“You mean right at this moment? Confused by whatever you just said,” I replied.

“Right! Right, right,” Cassidy muttered. “You probably think I’m mad.”

I waited patiently.

“Okay, questions before answers,” she started. “Question one: Where are you?”

“At home, in my room,” I answered.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Cassidy said. “I meant, where are you?”

I paused a moment. “In Knightville,” I then answered, “Rhode Island? You knew where Lila and I were going before we left.”

Silence from the other end.

And then a small, soft, “That’s not possible.”

There were loud rustling noises, like lots of paper being pulled and shoved, forward and aside. They were so loud, I couldn’t entirely hear what Cassidy said next – just a few words like ‘not possible’ and ‘Knightville’ and ‘Rhode Island’ and ‘Utah’, of all things.

“Cassidy, what’s gone into you?” I asked, started to feel the tiniest bit of fear for my aunt.

But when she replied, she sounded the clearest she had ever been throughout this entire conversation, perhaps even in all the time that I knew her. “Knightville doesn’t exist,” she said.

At that moment, thunder could have struck and split the world and Bleak House in half, but it wouldn’t have stopped me from replying, “What?”

“You heard me. Your Knightville, Rhode Island doesn’t exist, and the only thing closest to it is a ghost town in Utah, with the same name. I can tell you this for certain because I have a degree in history, I checked every geography book there is, including the Internet, and I also bought five different maps of Rhode Island to be absolutely sure.” She paused. “So now it begs the question, where are you both, really?”

There was another pause, in which I was silent for a while, drinking in whatever Cassidy was telling me. I had to assume that whatever Cassidy was telling me was true – she would never mess around with something as serious as this.

“Send me pictures,” I finally said, “send me pictures of your maps. Tomorrow, I’ll go and check up some maps of Rhode Island that I can find here.”

Cassidy sounded surprised when she said, “You’re taking this very well.”

“No other way to take it,” I replied.

“Don’t forget to tell Lila,” she reminded me, before hanging up.

But I had questions, so many questions that I needed answers to.

But I only had an answer to one of them.

Yes, something was very wrong with Knightville.

********************************

“Lila!” I called as I ran down the stairs. “Lila!”

Lila ran to the foot of the stairs completely clad in yoga attire, headphones on her ears, and a high ponytail on her head. And was that... was that a sweatband?

“Cassidy just called,” I informed her.

Lila went rigid, and I very nearly groaned aloud. I’d completely forgotten that Lila thought her sister still hated her. “What did she say?” she asked.

“Nothing about you,” I said, trying to sound as gentle as possible, “but a lot about Knightville.”

Lila’s shoulders relaxed for a small second before tensing again. “What about Knightville?”

And so I told her everything Cassidy told me, showing Lila the maps of Rhode Island. I myself had spent half an hour looking through these maps, one by one, and not a single label on any of them read ‘Knightville’. Cassidy had even sent me screenshots of Google searches on Knightville, where, sure enough, the only item was a ghost town in Utah. And I was pretty sure that if she had had the time, she would have sent every file of every well known geography book or atlas there was. Cassidy had known what she was talking about.

“B-but I-” Lila seemed to be at a loss for words. “what-how, I mean... I-if Knightville,” she breathed in, “doesn’t exist, or-or if the world doesn’t know Knightville exists...? Then where are we? No, how are we here? I-I... none of this makes sense!”

“Lila,” I said patiently, “you’re right; what Cassidy told us makes no sense, and I am just as confused as you are, but right now, I need you to be calm, or at least as calm as you can be right now, please.”

Lila, still breathing hard, looked at me,really looked at me for the first time, and gave a small smile. “You’re being so calm right now.”

I smiled back. What Lila didn’t know was that I wasn’t, in fact, calm. There was a tangled mess of questions, confusion and bewilderment at the back of my brain that I couldn’t afford to look at right just then; if I did, I would lose it completely, and losing it wasn’t an option. I would have to think logically.

And so I said the first thing my brain’s logic could think of: “We should leave Knightville.”

Lila opened her mouth and froze, as if she’d forgotten something entirely and my statement had just triggered her memory.

After a full ten seconds, she said, “we can’t.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

Lila looked at me, slightly dazed with horror. “Because we can’t. We couldn’t even if we tried.”

“But,” I protested, “you went out of town today, remember? To check out a bookstore for me?”

“I lied,” she said simply, “I wanted to, sure, but I just... couldn’t.” She suddenly steeled her posture, grabbed at my arm in a death grip, and started walking me out of the house, saying, “I can’t explain it. You need to see it for yourself; it’s not far.”

“What’s not far?” I asked as I followed her.

Lila didn’t respond as she opened the front door, dragged me out into the chilly night, and left it open. She was walking briskly, with purpose, and every step she took seemed to be a warning of what she was about to show me.

We walked along Scarlett’s house. It was dark, and almost invisible in the shadows, it’s age and overall shabbiness managing to make it look even creepier than Bleak House. I almost wouldn’t have even noticed it, if I didn’t know it wasn’t there.

We crossed it before I could think about exactly what that meant.

And that was when I started to feel it. The strangeness. The discomfort. It was like walking around in a room you’d never been in before when you’re blind and it’s dark. It was the chilly feeling of being in the very place you’re not supposed to be.

Foreign air on foreign ground with foreign soil.

Why was this feeling so exactly similar to the one I’d had when we came to Knightville?

********************************

Lila

We were nearing the end of town. Kenneth still looked oddly calm – a little uncomfortable, maybe – but still composed, the way he almost always did, as though he was the grown-up and I was the kid he needed to take care of. But the fact remained that I was still 19 years older than him, and that I wasn’t supposed to mess up, but I did.

It had been a mistake to move to DC in the first place. We were supposed to detach ourselves from family of any kind. We’d stayed there too long, and I knew it.

And here we were, me and my son, in the one place we weren’t supposed to be.

As we walked, the silence stretched miles long. Kenneth wasn’t asking any questions, which was a relief; I couldn’t answer any right just then. If I was in a normal state of mind, maybe I would’ve wondered why, considering what Cassidy had told him.

But what I needed to show him was important, if I could just find it.

The place was easy to find. It just went along the road, no turns, no tricky lanes. Just a straight path to the end of town. The exact place was marked by a tree, and that was also easy to find, because there were no other trees there.

I stopped when we had finally arrived, and turned to look at Kenneth, who was gangly like his father. He looked at me questioningly.

I breathed in, and gestured for him to take a few more steps.

And he did just that, slowly, for a few seconds... until he stopped. He couldn’t go any further.

And neither could I.

He frowned, and held his hand up in the air, which pressed against something invisible, like a wall.

His eyes widened in transparent shock, as he slammed both hands against it, slowly first, and then faster, more desperately.

“Lila...” he turned to me, and the look on his face washed me in guilt, “what-”

“This is why we can’t leave,” I said, my voice clearer than I thought it’d be, “there’s this... this Wall surrounding the entire town. I’ve spent the better part of half-an-hour trying to find a way to get out, but there isn’t any.”

Or at least, I had been told beforehand that there wasn’t any.

Kenneth combed his messy red-brown hair back with his fingers, trying to breathe measuredly, eyes closed and face turned to the cloudy sky, so I knew that he was trying to think.

I myself refused to think, instead just listlessly staring at what lies beyond the border; the continuation of the path, the sun, the people, the world. I had brought us here; had trapped us. This was my fault. I had told myself I would not think even then.

But then one single, solitary, mournful thought entered my head nonetheless.

Why, oh, why hadn’t I listened to David?

********************************

I was tired. I was so unimaginably tired. I was too tired to even tell anyone that I was tired if they bothered to ask. I had spent what felt like the whole night awake, thinking, thinking about whatever had happened the day before. I had tried to be calm for Lila, but in the end, I had lost it. It had been too much. Too much input. And now, at around 5:00 in the morning, even after a night of calming down and thinking, I couldn’t shake the feeling, the instinct, that Lila and I were both in danger.

After Lila told me about the Wall, we’d decided that the best course of action would be to go back home, have some dinner, and go to sleep. The next morning, we would go looking for answers.

I failed at the going-to-sleep part, obviously, so I got up way earlier than usual for school and was completely ready by the time Lila grumbled down the stairs in her pink pyjamas, blindly asking for her mug of coffee.

I offered it to her, a little milk, a little strong, a little more than lukewarm, and a gallon of sugar, just the way she liked it.

“So. Am I still expected to assault my new-found friend Catherine Fall with questions about the Wall and existence of Knightville?” Lila grumbled.

I thought about it for a moment. “Not really. You get to ask the easy stuff, because of your lack of tact.”

Lila made a protesting noise.

“You just ask Catherine if she wants to go out of town today and see how she reacts,” I finished. “and then you report your observations to me.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I get the hard stuff,” I replied simply.

“I still don’t understand,” Lila said anxiously, “We can find Knightville on our devices, but not on Cassidy’s. We got tickets, brochures...”

I thought about it. Knightville was, according to our map, sandwiched somewhere between Providence and Kent. It had neither airport nor train station, so we had to take a plane to Kent and a 17-hour drive to the town. Even the moving trucks had only accompanied us as far as Kent, before we took all our belongings in tow with Lila’s truck. Nobody had accompanied us to Knightville.

Now, as for the Internet and brochures, that I couldn’t explain. It was clear that everybody on the outside thought that Knightville didn’t exist. Which gave rise to another question: How did we get to know about it?

When I told Lila as much, she frowned faintly, which was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. “Alright then, good luck at school today.”

I grabbed my school bag and helmet, and grinned. “Thanks.”

Little did I know, that when I reached Knightville High, everything would be different. It seemed more isolated, emptier, and I myself somehow felt invisible. Everyone was going about their day normally, but it was like they made an especially forced effort to try and ignore me, which, under normal circumstances, I would have been completely okay with. But now, I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with what Lila and I had found.

To make matters worse, I couldn’t find Jolene or Rowan or even the Raynott sisters, the only things familiar to me in this school. All four of them had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth, and it felt as though I was walking on strange and fragile ground.

For the first few hours of school, I felt terribly unproductive. I was supposed to be scavenging for information, but what was I doing instead? Going about school, as if everything were normal. It was like all the answers lay behind a tough, opaque bubble, and it simply refused to pop no matter how much pressure I put on it.

It was only at the very end of the school day, right outside the school building, that something happened. That I caught a glimpse of something bright and unmistakeable and messy. Something the colour of fire.

“Jolene!” I called, sprinting at the opportunity, not caring how wild I looked doing it.

Jolene turned in surprise, and I caught up to her.

“Jolene,” I repeated, “I-”

“I know! I know you have questions,” she interrupted, “and you will get your answers. But right now, we really need you to go home as fast as you can and stay there.” She shoved a small piece of paper into my hands. And before I could ask who ‘we’ meant, Jolene continued, “tomorrow, when everything is safer, come to this address.” She looked around. “I’m sorry, Kenneth, I can’t stay here much longer, but get home as fast as you can, and just, please trust me.”

And with that, she ran away.

Stunned, I looked at the paper.

Jolene’s neat handwriting read:

Diaforians HQ, 62 Fire Street, Knightville

********************************

I was being followed. I was certain of it.

I hadn’t taken my bike to school that day, since I’d gotten out way too early and the ride would have made me arrive too soon. I’d walked to school instead, and at the time, buzzing with energy, it hadn’t been so bad. But now, I was walking in a secluded part of the neighbourhood, at the end of a very long day.

With something following me.

What was especially troubling was that the sky had gone abruptly dark in the past few minutes alone, making it look like it was about to be evening even though it was only four in the afternoon. The wind whistled as it quickened it’s pace, even though it didn’t feel like it would rain, and a deep sense of foreboding came over me as I began to hasten in my journey. Before I realised it, I was flat-out running, just like Jolene had warned me to, although from what I was escaping, I couldn’t be entirely sure.

And that was when I heard it. The whispers. I’d thought the wind had been whistling, until I heard the words, ragged lines of poetry cracked around the edges, spoken by something that didn’t know what goodness really was.

We see, we hear, we smell, we touch, we taste. All will become shadow, and all shall suffer. He is here, our last impossibility, the power we were promised...

I turned around.

And I almost screamed.

Three shadowy creatures stood short of thirty feet away from me, and they were unlike anything from this world. They were completely black, so black they almost seemed slick with the color. They had no form at all, if you didn’t count their heads and arms, just black clouds of smoke hanging over the place shoulders should be, coming from an invisible source in their centre. Their heads were like black eggs, with no eyes or ears or nose or mouth or expression, an endless void of something that can only be termed as ‘evil’. Their hands were long and slim, sinisterly clawed in a way that made me shiver. Their entire presence made me shiver.

They tilted their heads at the same time in my direction.

Kenneth Garamond, one of them (or was it all of them together?) said, in a breathy, sharp, inhuman whisper of a voice, every word echoing each other like the rings of a bell. We have been waiting a long time.

Nobody had called me Kenneth Garamond, not ever. I would never even choose to be called by David Garamond’s name, if I had the choice. I never had any qualms about whose son I was, and it will always be her name I choose to bear.

And amidst this imminent danger, shivering with fear, facing off three creatures that I’d never known even existed until today, I saw clarity, ground that I could stand on in this impossible situation.

And that was how I found my voice. “You’re mistaken,” I said.

For creatures that didn’t have faces, they seemed taken aback by my reaction, retreating a step back, as though I were the danger. It was almost laughable. Almost.

Oh? they said, and how is-

“KENNETH!” came a shout from behind the creatures.

They turned. I squinted.

Rowan and Jolene Frost (the one who’d shouted) were running to us at full speed, Jolene’s hair flying behind her like a flame. They were clad in what looked like clean-fitted, dark blue armor, complete with chest plates and weapons belts. Jolene held up what greatly resembled a dagger emanating a soft white glow, and had a similarly glowing sword attached diagonally on her back. Rowan was in the process of pointing a gun, which, by the way, also glowed, at the shadowy creatures. He shot, and it seemed to hit the one standing in the middle square in the place where a chest should have been.

It staggered backwards, but seemed far from unkilled, as its two comrades turned to Jolene and Rowan.

But then something impossible happened. Jolene ran up, jumped in the air, and somehow transformed into an eagle, flew up to the creatures, turned back into a human, and would have landed squarely on one of them, had it not moved away with lightning speed first. Jolene, unperturbed by this, landed lightly on her feet like a cat.

All this happened in less than ten seconds, and my mind struggled to comprehend it. Of course I’d seen this kind of thing before... in books and movies, where we were protected from the dangers of imaginary worlds.

But this was real life, and real life was much scarier than anything anyone could come up with. Thinking about what Jolene had just done, or why the siblings were dressed like soldiers, or why Rowan was using an actual gun was not going to help anyone. Questions could be asked later, but in order to do so, one had to survive first.

So I stayed where I was, knowing that I wouldn’t be very helpful in this situation, but I didn’t want to move back either, because if there was the slightest chance I could be, I didn’t want help to be too far away.

Jolene was still surrounded by the creatures. Rowan was gaining speed, and Jolene had swiftly unsheathed her glow-in-the-dark sword and slashed at her opponents in a single wide, graceful arc, sending the things back. Rowan plucked a knife from his belt and flung it at the nearest creature, slicing it cleanly through the forehead. That seemed to destroy it completely; the creature immediately fell apart in a dense cloud of black, blocking my line of sight momentarily, and when it cleared... nothing remained.

Jolene grinned at Rowan, but that grin was soon replaced with a look of horror as five more of the same creatures melted out of the shadows and surrounded the duo.

That was when they really began to fight, Jolene slashing valiantly with her sword, dagger, and body, and Rowan firing his gun with deadly precision. They even shouted warnings at each other from time to time whenever a creature approached, or if there was an opening to strike, or to ‘go get’ me. Everything was happening too fast for me to even admire the way they fought, like they were weapons too. I was too busy wondering how they knew all those moves.

But then, another impossible thing happened. At one point, when Jolene was too busy fighting, Rowan was pinned to the ground, a creature’s disgusting hand around his throat, his gun having fallen a few too many feet away from his reach.

Just as I was about to run directly into the line of fire, Rowan, who, up until then, had both his own hands around the creatures claw in an attempt to get some breathing space, extended one of his arms in the direction of his gun, and a second later, it lifted off the ground and flew into his hand, like a piece of metal attracted to a magnet.

Rowan shot the thing and quickly got back on his feet as it disintegrated to black, running back into battle despite the bruise already forming where the creature had held him.

By the looks of things, these creatures were really hard to kill, and I could see Rowan trying to get back to Jolene, who was having a rough time with her opponents (had another creature just joined us?) It made me wish I could do something, anything apart from wincing whenever Jolene or Rowan got hurt and shouting their names to warn them of surprise attacks.

The cloud of black smoke was suddenly intensifying, which I took as a sign that more of these creatures were dying. When it cleared, Rowan and Jolene were grinning ear to ear.

And they weren’t alone. A third person had joined their group.

Scarlett Raynott was in the same armor as Jolene and Rowan, gripping a long, glowing spear in her left hand. Her hair was tied in a tight braid that snaked across the harsh-blowing wind, and she was grinning along with the other two, although she still had an alert look in her eyes.

And all three of them commenced fighting once more. Now, only four of these creatures were left, and an added hand was quickening the process. Scarlett was just as skilful as Jolene and Rowan, if not more, and things were finally starting to look good for them.

Until disaster struck once again. Jolene, who was standing a little away from Scarlett and Rowan, took an unguarded swipe at one of the creatures, to which the creature extended it’s claws and, with a movement too quick to catch, slashed at Jolene. Jolene cried out loud as three long, deep gashes formed on her stomach, thick lines of dark red steadily oozing blood. Jolene’s sword clattered to the ground.

She fell back.

“Jolene!!!” Rowan cried when he finally turned, a look of raw horror on his face as he immediately ran to his sister, unable to care less about the creature that tailed him. Scarlett’s face just paled as she stared at Jolene’s mangled form, her eyes unreadable, perhaps at the sight of blood.

My own reflexes suddenly came into gear. The shadowy creature that Jolene had been fighting was coming back to finish the job, and I couldn’t just stand there and let that happen. Rowan and Scarlett were too far away.

But I was close enough.

My legs started moving, and before I knew it, I was running to where Jolene lay on the ground, barely breathing. I stood protectively above her, blocking the monster’s view, and I faced it.

Jolene was barely conscious, but she seemed to have noticed me and recognised who I was. “No, Kenneth,”she kept on repeating, in an awful, croaky sort of voice, “you can’t-”

You are painfully foolish, Diaforian, the monster said.

“KENNETH!” It was Rowan. “Are you crazy? Get away from that thing!”

“No, let him,” came a voice. Astonishingly, this had come from Scarlett, who had a cut across her cheek and a thoughtful expression on her face.

Rowan, Jolene, and I all looked at her as though she were crazy. Even I wasn’t optimistic enough to believe I would survive today. I’d done what I’d done without thinking, and I was grimly glad I did. I couldn’t have just left Jolene to die. It wouldn’t have been right.

The creature approached. The air around me seemed to suddenly drop ten degrees, it was growing darker than any night that I had ever seen, and I felt the promise of death, deep in my bones.

But I wasn’t thinking anymore. I was functioning purely on instinct, and later, after all was said and done, I think that was how I witnessed the last impossible thing of that day.

I raised my hand so that my outstretched palm faced the monster, as if to ward it away, and for a few dangerously surreal seconds, everything seemed frozen. This was the last monster. Nothing and no one moved, and all eyes were on me.

Until it all unfroze again. Brightness exploded out of my hand, a jet of white light directed at the monster. It was blinding, it was huge, it was extraordinary. It was nothing like what I’d expected to happen and everything at the same time. Maybe I would be confused about it later, but for the moment of now, I felt powerful, dangerously powerful. And it was dangerous because nothing had ever felt so right in my life; in that moment, it was everything. Power came from deep within the center of my chest, like a ball of yarn being quickly unwound, travelling with staggering speed through my body, and bursting out of my palm.

The light connected with the monster, making it fly back, and it resulted in an even brighter explosion that blinded us all for a moment. I shielded my face with my hand, and I felt all that was dark and foreboding vanish, the promise of death gone as if it were never made. It was a feeling of light, and as the brightness faded and I lowered my hand, I felt oddly at peace with the world. The town was it’s normal grey once more.

But the feeling lasted only a second; my knees abrupty hit the cold hard ground as I fell with the feeling of being suddenly drained of all energy. I felt weak, so terribly weak that I couldn’t think or see straight. Breathing was an effort. Distantly, I heard the sounds of talking and approaching footsteps.

“She’s fainted,” said Rowan, in a strangely muffled voice. Or maybe that was just my ears ringing.

“Look after your sister, Rowan,” said Scarlett, in a sad musical sort voice, “I’ll take care of Teigen.”

A few shuffling noises later, I felt a pair of surprisingly strong hands holding me up. Heard whispers in my ear, human whispers, musical whispers. Soft words of a soothing rhyme. Darkness immediately spotted my fading vision; it made me want to close my eyes so bad...

I shook my head. “No,” I said deliriously, not knowing exactly what it was I was saying ’no’ to, “I want answers. I have questions.”

Silence for a moment. Scarlett didn’t say that I would get all my answers, that I would get them later, when I was better. She just said with a strange simplicity: “Nothing would make sense even if you did get them.”

And that was when the darkness finally caught me and closed my mind to all conscious thought.

Taglist: @jeahreading, @mayaheronthorn, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay, @tys-kitty, @margareturtle

[descendantofthesparrow]

Multipart Commission work - Harry Hook x Reader - part 10 - complications

@musicarose​

=

You sought out harry the next morning, not truly knowing if what you had seen the night before was real.

But just as you excited your room, harry appeared around the corner, his face turning red as he locked eyes with you. “um, lass, I need ta talk teh you?” he nervously asked, you slowly nodded, following him into his room.

“so, last night” you sighed, so it was real, a small smile spread on your lips as harry stumbled over his words “was-did you, okay so-fu*k, are yeh dream girl” he blurted out, covering his mouth in embarrassment a moment later.

You giggled and gently grasped his hand, bringing it down between you “yes I am, and you’re dream boy?” you could see the imaginary steam rising from Harry's face.

“i-um- I yep, tha’s me!” his voice cracked and he groaned and facepalmed “god sorry” you giggled as harry crouched down and buried his face in his hands.

You kneeled next to him and proceeded to put yourself in his field of vision, laughing as you saw his face.

His eyes were scrunched closed and his face beet red. “harry” you cooed, reaching out and gently grabbing his hands “why are you embarrassed?”

“I don’ know” he mumbled, looking at you through his lashes, stopping as his eyes locked with yours. “um”

You just simply stared at each other for a moment before Harry broke eye contact “so how did we meet each other in our dreams” he asked, standing and leaning against his dresser.

“oh um, so I have this….ability? to visit other people's dreams but I can only visit my….true…loves…dreams?” you explained with a wince, not knowing how Harry would react.

He took a moment but….his jaw dropped and he seemed to lose his balance. “we-wa-how-huh?!” his voice cracked.

You let out a laugh and shrugged “its how my parents first…met’ per say” you rubbed the back of your neck and sighed “in the most basic way…we’re soulmates”

Harry didn’t respond, staring at his feet “Harry?” his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he almost hit the ground hard if it wasn’t for you diving and catching him. “Harry!!!”

=

“so you’re dream girl?”

“hes told you about the dreams?”

“we’re the only ones he can safely share them with”

“ah okay”

Harry slowly opened his eyes, seeing two blurry figured standing near him, the teal colored one turning to him and leaning over him and snapping their fingers

“hey-hey! Harry wake up” harry blinked a couple of times and focused, seeing Uma standing over him with (y/n) on her other side. “there you are, you passed out on (y/n) when she told ya about the dream stuff”

Harry groaned and covered his face, feeling heat creep up his cheeks again “do yeh hav’ta tease me abou’t tha’?” he grumbled, pouting as Uma chuckled.

“yep, ill leave you two to talk it out” she patted Harry's shoulder and walked out, giving you a look as she did.

“so we’re soulmates?” you heard harry ask quietly, you turned to look at him and shrugged.

“that’s….yeah basically, that would be why we’re able to see each other in that dream” you sighed, walking over and sitting at his feet on the bed.

“so what are we gonna….do about it?” harry asked, tilting his head. You sighed, smiling at him and holding out your hand.

“well, if you would, I would like to try? I've felt a connection with you since we meet, even if it was only a week ago-“ harry chuckled and interrupted you.

“technically we met a couple of years ago” you snorted and shook your head, dropping your hand on the sheets.

“yeah, once upon a dream” you chuckled, jumping at the sudden sparks running up your arm, glancing down seeing Harry's hand intertwined with yours.

“if we weren’t on the isle love” love….you liked the sound of that “I would be so happy to try at….us, but its too dangerous on the isle right now lass, I don’t want anybody to use yeh against me” you sighed and nodded, tightening your grip on Harry's hand.

“I understand” you smiled at him, “then we’ll try us in Auradon after Ben gets his sh*t together” you and Harry smiled at each other and nodded.

“aye, hopefully, he will soon” Harry muttered, releasing your hand and standing up from the bed, looking around for his boots.

You looked down at your hand, still feeling the sparks running up your arm. Just like your mom described when your dad held her hand.

“well, I think we better get started on the day eh?” you looked up, seeing harry once more holding out his hand for you, a soft smile on his face.

You beamed and took his hand, the sparks returning full force as you did “yeah! Let's go!”

=

3 months later you sat in the crow's nest, humming to yourself as you sewed your jacket arm back together after a small training brawl with Desiree.

Harry had gotten mad at her but calmed as you revealed that it was only your jacket that had gotten sliced.

For someone who wanted to hide your connection was doing a terrible job, you giggled to yourself remembering when Harry had punched a random pirate out for flirting with you.

You glanced up, seeing the bright lights of Auradon across the sea. You wondered if Audrey knew about you being on the isle, if your parents knew.

You knew your grandmother didn’t know, if she did you would have been forcefully retrieved a long time ago.

You finished the stitch and closed it off, breaking the thread with your teeth. “lassie!” you heard Harry call up to you, smiling you leaned over to see Harry leaning against the mast holding the crow's nest, pouting up at you “come down, im bored!” you snorted and rolled your eyes.

“alright” you chuckled, putting the needle and leftover thread in the little sewing box and tossing on your jacket and leaping on to the rope ladder and climbing down.

Just as you were about to jump off the ladder Harry's hands latched around your waist, lifting you off the ladder and setting you down gently on the deck. you sighed and gave him a look.

“wha?” he muttered, pouting, and looking away.

“you’re being cute~” you sang, patting his cheek and walking around him. You heard him scramble for words as you walked away.

“i-i- im not!” he screeched, following you to your room. you tossed the sewing box on your bed and turned around into Harry’s chest, raising your brow at him and crossing your arms.

“begging me to come down from the crow's nest and not letting me get off the ladder myself? Getting food for me? Escorting me everywhere? For someone who wanted to hide our connection for safety, you’re not very good at it are you?” you teased, cackling as harry turned red and pouting.

“well-I- whatever” he mumbled. You giggled and patted his arm, squeezing past him to get to the chip shop.

=

“woo” you sighed, sitting down next to Harry, who pushed his tray in front of you “stop giving me your food dork, you’re only just beefing up” you muttered, pushing the tray back in front of him and nodding at Uma as she tossed a new tray filled with food in front of you.

Harry huffed, leaning on his hands and pouting again.

Uma rolled her eyes at her first mate, ‘lovesick idiot’ she thought, smirking to herself as Harry tried to sneak some of his fries onto your plate.

You again caught him in the act and tossed them back, sticking your tongue out. The crew snickered at Harry's displays of his version of “love”, giving you his food, his jacket, letting you hold his hook, plopping his hat on your head at random times.

They were still trying to convince you to get the anchor tattoo, and you were still saying no….though you might get it anyway.

=

Later that night, you slept in your bed, new mattress and everything, when something loud woke you up.

….fireworks?....no…Gunshots.

You leapt out of bed, shoving on your boots and racing up to the main deck, stopping and hiding behind the door frame as the deck came into view.

An enemy group of pirates were attacking, probably wanting the best picks that the crew got. And they had….flintlock pistols.

“sh*t” you muttered, feeling a panic attack setting in “fu**” you looked around the deck, eyes locking on a man pointing his pistol at uma and Harry, who wasn’t paying attention.

“no!” you raced out, shoving his arm away, the shot went into the air, and the man snarled, looking down at you and attempting to strike you.

You rolled to the side and kicked his legs out, standing you looked back toUma and Harry.

They looked at you in awe, before it turned to horror.

Harry screamed your name.

A sharp piercing sound echoed in your mind.

Uma screamed, sending the crew after the enemy.

You looked down, pressing your hand below your chest, pulling away to see your hand stained red.

“….oh” you muttered, stumbling back and falling to the floor.

“(Y/N)!!” Harry screamed, dropping his Hook and Sword and bolted over to you, gently picked you up and pulling you into his lap, pushing your hair out of your face and cupping your cheek “nonono, no please love please don’t close yer eyes, don’t close yer eyes!”

You let out a wet cough, a warm liquid staining your lips. “H-Harry” you whimpered, the adrenaline fading away, and the intense pain in your lower chest overpowering everything else “h-elp me” a sob ripped from Harry's lips, tugging you closer to his chest.

“yer gonna be okay, yer gonna be okay!” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“harry! I grabbed Facilier, he might not be the best but hes what he got” in what you thought was only a couple moments but it had been minutes, Uma had run and grabbed Dr. Faciler, who gasped and dug into his bag for medical supplies.

He knew you were the one who had made it possible for his daughter to eat healthily in the last couple months, he had to do something.

As Harry lifted up your shirt for Facilier to fix you up, you blacked out, Harrys sobbing fading into the backround.

=

The world faded in for a moment, Harry and Umas voices echoing around you.

“We have ta send her back Uma, we don’ have everything we need for her to survive”

“I know harry…. I just don’t know- “Uma! I jus’ can't watch her die over and over again….please”

“….okay, ill get in contact with Ben”

The pain was too much, the darkness swallowing you back up.

=

“WE NEED 1,000 mL OF BLOOD STAT, WE NEED TO STABILIZE HER NOW”

“SHES GOING INTO SHOCK!”

==

“CLEAR”

=

“it's up to her now”

“oh my poor baby”

 =

It felt like a heavy fog surrounded you, but you couldn't sit up or open your eyes, you felt someone kneel next to you, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“Please stay alive my lass” Harrys voice whispered, he leaned down and kissed your cheek “I could never forgive myself if you died”

A sudden bright light burned through your eyelids. And you opened them to see the white ceiling of a hospital.

“Harry” you whispered.

--end of part 10--

permtag list

@queer-cosette​

@sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​

@amorathegamingkitsune​

@random-thoughts-003​

@rintheemolion​

taglist

@thecaptainsgingersnap​

@thebookwormfairy​