#hell knows no wrath like a teenager girl who was wronged

[mekatrio]

ene could do I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream but AM could never do yuukei yesterday

[frankie-bell]

An Essay Exploring Psycho-Pass's Most Controversial Character

I know I’m opening a huge, slimy can of worms and potentially incurring the wrath of half the Psycho-Pass fandom, but I feel compelled to share my feelings on Mika Shimotsuki and how I believe she serves as a lightning rod for fan culture misogyny. Now, before I start, let me just say that this essay isn’t targeted at any one individual, and it’s just my personal opinion, which you are more than welcome to disagree with. I’d also like to stress that, despite my love for Mika’s character, I’m going to try my very best to approach this topic from an academic standpoint rather than an emotional one. I recently picked Parasocial Relationships and their effect on female celebrities and fictional characters as a thesis for my Gender and Media course, and it really got me thinking about this anime in particular, so here we go…

Let’s tackle the female side of things first, because it’s the one that shocks and disappoints me the most. Don’t get me wrong -- I think fandoms with a strong female presence are awesome, complex, uplifting, and oftentimes incredibly positive and inclusive spaces. I love being a female genre fan and interacting with other female genre fans. That said, I’ve noticed female fandom can sometimes fall prey to online bullying and misogynistic groupthink when it comes to (a) female characters they find arrogant, bossy, mean, etc. and (b) female characters who are positioned as potential love interests for their collective male "blorbos," "husbandos," "faves," whatever the term may be. These two things very often overlap, which I’ll touch on later, but for now, let’s talk about the first point.

There was a big movement online several years ago urging creators to “let women be mean. Let them be angry. Let them be petty and complex and difficult. Let them be messy.” I fully support this idea in both theory and practice and wish it were that simple, but unfortunately, it’s not, because uncomfortably large swaths of fandom don’t like/appreciate unapologetically mean female characters the way they do male characters. Men in fiction are allowed to be cutthroat, selfish, cruel, narcissistic, arrogant, and even evil without garnering even a fraction of the judgement that female characters receive for simply being “difficult” or “unlikable.”

Take, for instance, Shougo Makishima. The Psycho-Pass fandom at large adores this character (myself included), despite the fact that he’s a remorseless sociopath who touts the importance of free will as a wholesale excuse for murder. He is a bad person, full-stop, and yet he garners love -- even sympathy -- in abundance. He’s the subject of fawning fan fiction, chibi art, thirst tweets, and endless Reddit analysis. Fans are capable of seeing him, murderous warts and all, as a product of the warped dystopian society Sibyl has created. But Mika? Nope. Just “a bitch, a whiner, an arrogant little girl who deserves to get slapped in the mouth.” (I am not making this up. These are the type of comments I see *female* fans making left and right about her character). She receives far more hate for giving up the location of Akane’s grandmother as a blackmailed, frightened teenager than Makishima does for slashing Yuki’s throat or blowing up Masaoka. Hell, she catches more heat for Akane’s grandmother than Sakuya Togane, the woman’s actual murderer and -- I can’t stress this enough -- a 41-year-old adult man.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking -- Makishima and Togane are villains, so their personality flaws (putting it lightly) and horrible actions are essential to the narrative and indicative of good storytelling. We’re meant to “love to hate them.” All correct, and yet this doesn’t change or excuse the fact that their standing in the fandom, when compared to the equally complex and emotionally fractured Mika, is textbook pernicious misogyny. But, for the sake of argument, let’s compare Mika to another character ostensibly on the side of good -- Nobuchika Ginoza. [Note: Ginoza is my favorite character in Psycho-Pass, and any commentary regarding his PP1 shittiness is made with pure love and appreciation for him and nuanced character growth in general.]

When we first meet Ginoza, he is rude, terse, unyielding, intellectually smug, and totally unforgiving of those closest to him. He’s a brilliant character, and his behavior, no matter how insufferable and seemingly cruel, is the result of compounded trauma -- the trauma of having his father ripped away when he was only nine, the trauma of being unfairly judged for the “sins” of said latent criminal father, the trauma of his mother numbing her pain with medication and eventually becoming something akin to a human corpse, the trauma of finding a new support system and best friend in Kougami only to once again be “abandoned” for the other side of the law. In many ways, he’s still a hurt child lashing out at the world, unwilling to see it for the complicated, morally gray place that it is, because being mad is easier. Telling himself that Enforcers are nothing more than dogs for him to guide and use as shields is easier. Blindly trusting the judgements handed down by Sibyl is easier.

In this way, he and Mika are remarkably similar. When she first joins the MWPSB, she’s a 17-year-old minor whose best friend (and probably first love) was dismembered by a latent criminal under the direction of a serial killer disguising himself as a teacher -- a trusted authority figure. She’s filled with guilt and self-loathing over her failure to act, and the easiest way for her to sort out her feelings and ensure the same thing doesn’t happen again is to harden herself to all latent criminals. Distrusting them, treating them as “other,” is her form of self-preservation. Yes, it makes her come across as mean, as closed-minded, as unlikable, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s good storytelling, and it presents her with plenty of potential for growth, which she is certainly given.

[Upon discovering that her best friend, fellow Oso Academy student Kagami Kawarazaki, has been murdered by Rikako Oryo, Mika breaks down in tears, blaming herself for the tragedy. This is the moment her distrust of latent criminals is solidified.]

But, unlike Ginoza (a 28-year-old adult man), over half the fandom decided that Mika was so awful, so totally unforgivable, such a “heinous cunt,” that they were unwilling to allow her the time and space to grow beyond her trauma and immaturity. But why? Is it because we’ve been taught to judge women, even fictional ones, based on a different set of criteria than men? I think the answer is obvious, and I urge fans who dislike Mika’s character with such intensity to seriously examine their reasoning. I don’t mean to say that she’s infallible (hardly) or that it’s wrong to dislike her. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and no one person’s take is more valid than another’s, but it’s definitely something to think about in the larger conversation that is media analysis.

Which brings me to Akane Tsunemori, someone who fits all the abovementioned criteria for a “likeable” female character. [Another note: I love Akane, and none of this is meant to disparage her. I am simply trying to point out that she’s a more easily digestible female when viewed through the patriarchal lens of pop culture.] She’s smart but not arrogant about it, strong-willed but never disagreeable, empathetic but not easily led by her emotions, and most importantly, she’s always kind to the fandom’s male faves. She is, in almost every way, trademark "Best Girl" material, and Mika is her foil (at least in PP2). She’s set up to be the anti-Akane, both in personality and narrative function. If Akane trusts someone, Mika doesn’t. If Akane wants to bend the rules, Mika is rigid in upholding them. If Akane isn’t afraid of clouding her Hue, Mika is downright terrified.

Though it’s never stated outright, she probably hoped her senior Inspector would serve as a mentor figure, yet we see none of that from Akane, who often abandons Mika to chase down seemingly wild leads and appears to be stuck in the past, yearning for the original Division 01. (Mika even says as much to Ginoza in a novelization of the first film.) On top of that, I think it’s important to remember that we’re predisposed to side with Akane, as she is both our POV protagonist *and* the hero of the narrative. We have unprecedented access to her private moments, motivations, and methodology. We know she means well and trust that her unconventional strategy will pay off in the end. Mika does not. All she knows is that her direct superior is habitually breaking the rules, overloading her team with what feels like excessive busywork, and ignoring the more bureaucratic side of the job in favor of unconventional/unsanctioned detective work. If I’m being perfectly honest, I would also be submitting concerned reports to my boss.

[When Akane blatantly disregards Sibyl's judgement of bomber Akira Kitazawa, talking him down from a Crime Coefficient of 302 to 299, Mika confronts her for putting both their colleagues and nearby civilians in danger. This later proves to be the right call, as Kitazawa attacks Inspector Risa Aoyanagi and escapes police custody.]

[While investigating Kirito Kamui, Akane keeps her suspicions/theories close to the chest, leaving Mika and the rest of Division 01 in the dark as to her game plan.]

[Although Akane's decision to entrust Hinakawa with all 185 Halos proves to be the right one, it's understandable why Mika is taken aback by her placing so much responsibility on a single subordinate -- especially one with Hinakawa's history.]

Now, that’s not to say Mika’s feelings about Akane are purely altruistic. She’s definitely jealous of her senior Inspector and resents her standing within the Bureau, which makes her behave in ways both petty and vindictive. But I’d argue that this, too, is understandable, if not wholly forgivable, when viewed through Mika’s eyes. Picture this: You’re the youngest-ever recruit to a highly coveted position. You follow protocol to a T, are deferential to your superiors, and show a genuine aptitude for the job. Even your callousness toward the Enforcers (again, your childhood best friend was butchered by a latent criminal) is in accordance with Sybil’s will. Shitty, yes, but standard for someone raised within the Orwellian hellscape of 2100s Japan. And yet, everyone around you prefers your senior Inspector. Your subordinates defer to her when you’re the officer in charge (Hinakawa) and even help her game the system (Ginoza). The Chief tells you you’re boring, but displays obvious favoritism toward her. This severely harms your self-esteem and colors the way you interact with everyone around you. After all, it’s hard to feel like a valued member of the team when you’re being undermined and lectured at every turn. This doesn’t excuse Mika’s behavior, and if she didn’t evolve, I might understand some of the hate, but she does evolve. Spectacularly. She’s just not Akane, and that’s okay.

[While dealing with the hostage situation in PP2, Mika notices Hinakawa working on something off to the side. When she confronts him about it, he admits that he's acting on Akane's orders, even though Mika is technically the officer in charge.]

[A similar incident occurs in Sinners of the System: Case. 1, when Ginoza shoots down Mika's (admittedly ridiculous) plan, which she interprets as him once again siding with Akane over her.]

Again, this is good storytelling at work, and you can acknowledge that these two women are diametrically opposed and still appreciate -- hell, even like -- both of them for the well-written characters they are. After all, most Psycho-Pass fans like both Kougami and Ginoza in PP1 despite their many differences, not to mention the fact that Ginoza is (and I say this with love) a giant asshole. Let’s not forget, he was *this close* to microwaving Kougami at Chief Kasei’s behest. You can tell yourself he wouldn’t have, but are you sure? Are you really sure? But we forgive him, because he’s a man. Anyway, back to Akane and Mika. For reasons I’ll never understand, many fans find it borderline impossible to love two women with beef, whether it’s one-sided or mutual. There can only be one Best Girl, and everyone better be on her team. It reminds me of the Sansa vs. Daenerys discourse that gripped the Game of Thrones fandom in its last few seasons. This is doubly ridiculous in Psycho-Pass’s case, because Akane and Mika come to trust, respect, and depend on each other. But people decided to hate this 19-year-old forever, so none of that matters.

[Notice how Ginoza's gaze narrows ominously in the last frame, suggesting he might actually have pulled the trigger, thereby killing his best friend, had Akane not intervened.]

Now, let’s return to my earlier point about certain fans irrationally hating any female character they deem unworthy of their blorbo, husbando, etc. This is where Parasocial Relationships become extremely interesting. As mentioned above, Ginoza is my favorite character in Psycho-Pass, which I think is pretty common. While I myself have never been one for self-insertion or creating OCs to pair with my favorite characters, I understand that it’s a popular trend, and if you enjoy it, more power to you. It becomes problematic, however, when those who engage in self-shipping/OC-shipping decide to collectively gang up on the female character creators have paired (or hinted at pairing) with the object of their affection. Enter GinoMika. Now, I know what you’re thinking -- “But Mika’s a lesbian!” I don’t necessarily agree. Do I think she was in love with her best friend at Oso Academy? Yes. Do I think she had a crush on Yayoi at the beginning of PP2? Yes. Do I also think it’s obvious she currently has feelings for Ginoza, which have been steadily growing since Sinners of the System? Absolutely. For this reason, I interpret her as being both bisexual and demisexual. But that’s beside the point --

The point is that many Ginoza fans who ship him with themselves, their OCs, or Akane (remember, she’s Best Girl) seem to enjoy trashing on Mika like it’s an Olympic sport. And when I say “trashing,” I don’t mean your normal yet still disappointing level of ship nonsense; I mean unhinged, violent rhetoric that makes me feel like the Internet is a place where women can never win. And why? Because she was mean to him when she first started working for the MWPSB? As if he was oh-so-kind to the Enforcers who worked under him. I seem to recall him screaming at his father and threatening to “make him pay” for visiting his sick wife without permission. Oh, and then there was the time he introduced Akane to her new colleagues by telling her, “Don’t think that the guys you’re about to meet are humans like us.” But yes, Mika once told him that she didn’t want his opinion as a latent criminal, which is so much worse. And before you can say that she’s still a bitch to him, let me point out that she is a textbook tsundere. That’s how she flirts, shows affection, etc. She can never come right out and say what she means, because that would make her vulnerable. But she can surreptitiously tell Ginoza he better come back alive by insisting he return her special Dominator. You know, because it would be a real hassle if she had to replace that thing.

[The language Ginoza uses when introducing Akane to the Enforcers, including his own best friend and father, is deeply dehumanizing.]

[When Aoyanagi takes Masaoka to visit his estranged wife, Ginoza reacts with explosive anger, reprimanding his father in front of their colleagues and threatening to retaliate should he do it again.]

Which brings us, at long last, to the male portion of the fandom. While many female fans like to call Mika out for her more negative character traits, completely ignoring any and all growth she’s experienced since PP2, male fans tend to direct their anger, dislike, etc. in a much more aggressive manner. I wish I was exaggerating when I say that I’ve seen multiple posts praying for Mika’s rape and subsequent murder. You can’t dive into a single “Season 4 Wish List” thread without finding at least one person wishing extreme ill on Mika Shimotsuki. It's pure misogyny, classic “I’ll fuck the bitch right out of her” rhetoric, and it has no place in this fandom or any other. You would never see a male character being talked about in these terms. Consider this: There’s more fan fiction featuring Mika being raped or coerced into sex by her tormentor, Sakuya Togane, than her having a positive, consensual experience with any other character. Love her or hate her, that is extremely fucked up. We as a fandom need to do better, because once this type of misogyny can be weaponized against fictional characters, it becomes much easier to use against real people. Fan culture, though it might seem trivial, says a lot about us and our values.

[This is just a sampling of the comments you'll find on Twitter, Tumblr, Reddit, and other social media sites.]

That said, I’d like to end this essay on a more positive note, so let’s take a look at all the ways in which Mika has become a better, more compassionate human being over the course of the series...

By PP3, she shows obvious concern for her Enforcers, values their opinions, and treats them like integral members of her team. In an especially cute scene, she even fist-bumps Tenma Todoroki after they work seamlessly to defeat Koichi Azusawa’s henchmen. She also makes a point to attend the party thrown in the Enforcers’ quarters, as she now longs to be part of the gang -- a gang she would have actively shunned in PP2. 

[During First Inspector, Mika shows time and again that she's willing to work with and for her Enforcers.]

[As Chief, Mika realizes that Enforcers deserve respect and gratitude from their superiors. They are no longer dogs to her.]

[In PP2, Mika tells Ginoza she doesn't care what the Enforcers think of her. By PP3, however, we see her display concern that her team might find her dull. She wants to be liked and accepted by them.]

She becomes far more flexible with her co-workers, allowing Inspectors Arata Shindo and Kei Mikhail Ignatov plenty of freedom to conduct investigations as they see fit. Yes, she consistently scolds them (textbook tsundere behavior), but this is done in a manner far more humorous than anything else. We know she actually trusts them and has their best interests at heart; she just can’t bring herself to say it aloud. She also repeatedly takes heat from Chief Hosorogi on their behalf and is genuinely worried for Arata when it seems like Sibyl might “eliminate” him. The palpable relief on her face when she finds out he’s allowed to remain an Inspector speaks volumes.

[Throughout PP3, Mika allows Kei and Arata to play to their individual strengths, even if it means bending the rules -- something she would never have done in PP2 or the first film.]

[Just look at that excited face. No caption necessary.]

She goes out of her way to make sure the immigrant prostitutes saved by religious leader Joseph Auma are protected following his death. This is an especially big deal, since many of these individuals are latent criminals, and Mika is forced to ask her newfound nemesis, Frederica Hanashiro, for a favor in order to secure their safety. When she tries to pretend it’s no big deal, Frederica calls her bluff by pointing out that no one would stoop to asking someone they hate for help in order to protect people whose fates they don’t care about.

[Even though Mika detests Frederica, she puts the well-being of the immigrants before her own pride.]

In Sinners of the System: Case. 1, her distrust of latent criminals is permanently altered after dealing with Izumi Yasaka, whom she works tirelessly to rescue and comes to view as brave, capable, and worthy of reintegration into society. She also displays genuine concern for and lack of discrimination toward Takeya Kukuri, the young son of a latent criminal, and is horrified to discover that the latent criminal inmates at Sanctuary are being used as disposable tools to move nuclear waste canisters.

[Sinners of the System: Case. 1 marks a decided shift in the way Mika views latent criminals. Instead of lumping them all together, she begins to see them as individuals who deserve basic human rights.]

[Even though Mika is unable to save all the latent criminals at Sanctuary, she does everything in her power to ensure Yasaka and Takeya walk away clean.]

When Enforcer Mao Kisaragi turns out to be the “fox within the CID,” Mika and the rest of Division 01 are united in supporting her claim of innocence. Mika trusts (without concrete proof, mind you) that she’s telling the truth about being an unwitting accomplice, something she never would have done in PP2 or even the first film.  

[While the old Mika would have been the first person to distrust Kisaragi, here we see her standing up for the beleaguered Enforcer.]

She comes to respect Division 01 (Akane, Ginoza, Sugo, Hinakawa, Kunizuka, and Shion), views them as a surrogate family, and misses them once their unit is disbanded. In Sinners of the System: Case. 3, Frederica Hanashiro, who temporarily worked as part of their unit, says, “CID Division 01… They’re not just capable; they have a rare teamwork that overcomes the barrier between Inspectors and Enforcers.” Yes, this is mostly due to Akane’s guiding influence, but it’s clear Frederica is talking about the whole team. It’s taken Mika years to get there, but she is now definitely part of the group, not a jealous outsider looking in. In fact, even Mika’s obvious dislike of Frederica in PP3 is a clear result of this affection. After finally finding a place to belong, she feels as though Frederica swooped in and stole her found family, leaving her right back where she started -- on the outside.

[Though she'll never admit it, Mika views Ginoza as both a mentor and a friend. When he leaves the PSB to join SAD/MOFA, she misses having him around.]

[During her lowest moment in PP2, a jealous Mika actually hopes that Akane's Hue will darken. In Sinners of the System: Case. 2, she pleads with her to take her own safety more seriously. It's clear a big change has occurred in the intervening years.]

[Instead of feeling constant competition with Akane, by PP3, Mika is finally able to give her her due. It's clear they trust and respect each other despite their many differences.]

She’s grown from an immature young woman who couldn’t bring herself to take responsibility for her failures -- most notably her involvement in Akane’s grandmother’s murder -- to a responsible PSB Chief who holds herself accountable for anything that goes wrong with her Inspectors and Enforcers. This is most evident in her reaction to Koichi Azusawa taking control of Nona Tower and subsequently endangering the lives of MWPSB faculty and agents. We first see inklings of this change near the end of PP2, when Kunizuka tells Mika she’ll never forgive the person who gave up Aoi Tsunemori’s location, and Mika responds in kind. It’s clear that she’s not merely parroting a response to save her own skin but is deeply troubled and filled with regret over her own actions.

[In PP2, Mika is constantly blaming others for her mistakes. By First Inspector, she's owning mistakes she didn't even make.]

[Mika trusts her team so much, she's willing to put her job on the line.]

[Although Mika doesn't come clean to Kunizuka about her role in Aoi Tsunemori's death, it's clear she’s haunted by it. Later, when she confesses the truth to Ginoza, he admits to feeling a similar guilt over the way he treated his late father, telling Mika they'll have to bear their respective shame silently for the rest of their lives.]

And lastly, I believe the biggest example of Mika's growth can be found in what is arguably her most important relationship -- the one she shares with Ginoza. Whether you view them as mentor/mentee, begrudging friends, potential love interests, or all three, you can't deny that they have one of the most interesting and entertaining dynamics in the series. As mentioned above, when Mika first meets Ginoza, she views him as a cautionary tale. His demotion from Inspector to Enforcer is her worst nightmare, something that could conceivably happen to her, though she'll never admit it. Because of this, she treats him with hostility, disregarding his opinions and shunning his advice. But the longer they work together, the more we realize that Ginoza brings out the best in Mika -- and vice-versa. His calm, cool demeanor tempers her fiery spirit, and her enthusiasm makes him feel like he still has a purpose. By the time PP3 rolls around, he's become her #1 confidant, the person she calls whenever she has intel to share, grievances to air, etc. And you can't deny that Mika is the one person who makes Ginoza funny. Their flirtatious banter is genuinely charming and shows the softer, more human side of both their characters.

[Given her history with latent criminals, Mika refuses to listen to Ginoza, even when he's coming from a place of experience and genuinely trying to help her.]

[After working together for several years, Mika learns to value Ginoza's opinion and even feels proud when he compliments her.]

[During the Sanctuary case, Ginoza admits to both Akane and himself that being an Enforcer isn't so bad, as long as Mika is the one calling the shots. He knows she has a good heart, and working for her reminds him why he joined the MWPSB in the first place.]

[Notice how Mika's body language changes from PP2 to Sinners of the System. She now looks at Ginoza with appreciation and, in certain instances, affection. The fact that he views her the same way speaks volumes about how far their relationship has come.]

If you made it to the end of this mammoth post, thank you for sticking with me. Hopefully, we can all treat Mika with a little more patience, kindness, and respect when PP4 arrives.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

My Thoughts About If Earth Angels Had Ranks...And Some Other Stuff.

[Note: Reading This Is Optional...this will also talk a bit about Nonbinary, Transgender and Intersex as well. ]

yeah, not everyone has to agree with this but if Earth Angels did have some form of Ranks, it will be different depending on the half-human & half-angelic soul.

my ideas of the types of Ranks would be:

Earth Angel Princess

Earth Angel Prince

Earth Angel Mage

Earth Angel Knight

Earth Angel Healer

Earth Angel Oracle

Earth Angel Witch

Earth Angel Messenger

Earth Angel Duke

Earth Angel Overlord

Earth Angel Queen

Earth Angel King

and lastly, Earth Angel Newborn which is basically a newborn soul baby who is both physically and mentally a baby and will grow like most children over time even growing to until they reach their mature adult forms.

but once the New Earth Angel that was once a newborn soul reaches as certain age, their rank will change.

I'm not 100% sure if there are boy Earth Angels, even some who are Nonbinary-Boys who go by He/They pronouns.

but it could be possible there are some Earth Angels who have have been born in biological male bodies, and may identify as male.

it could be rare for some Earth Angels who are Male or Female to born into the wrong body that doesn't match their true gender identity.

like for some who are Nonbinary, even if being Transgender is separate but what I'm trying to say is that some who do feel Nonbinary but at the same time feel like they were born into the wrong body and feel like well the pronouns that seem to fit them would be He/They or She/They, it depends on them either being a Nonbinary-Guy or Nonbinary-Gal.

there can be different types of Nonbinary, and while some can still feel a bit more connected to the biological body they were born with even if in a different way, some might not and some could not only be a guy trapped in a girl body or a girl trapped in a boy body, they might also turn out to be Nonbinary as well, but that might only be a few who feel like that.

maybe some will get what I'm trying to say and I hope there is no misunderstandings.

I still suspect I might be one of the Intersex types, because of stuff that happen in my childhood before I became a teenager and at some point later on when I started to have that whole time of the month...it had got dangerous for me at some point, and well what I read about one of the signs of that Intersex type I believe that I am.

it just seem to fit from some stuff I went through.

I don't want to fully say that I am Intersex because some people might disagree, but the info I read before makes me believe I might very well be.

Stevonnie from Steven Universe is Nonbinary and goes by They/Them, and they are Intersex as well.

there are different types of Intersex and yeah ya can still be Biologically Male or Female but it's different for some even those who turn out to be Nonbinary, and there are different types of Nonbinary, not just ones who go by just They/Them.

there isn't just one type of Intersex, and with how some doctors and parents are, it's a good thing some don't notice right away because them trying to "fix" it and not bothering to get it through their heads that might cause more damage and possibly a identity crisis if what they pick, turns out to be incorrect.

if I am right about being Intersex, then I was one of the lucky ones not to be notice as such by the doctors, plus I think my Mom would have sense not to let them try to "fix" me...

Hell Knows No Fury Than The Wrath Of A Mother...

I know that isn't how that goes, but it works in this case.

plus if I was able to, and if my second cat wasn't taken to the vet on time or if those at the vet did anything wrong while trying to help her...

I would so do a Omnigeddon on the 5th Heaven and 5th Ring of Hell, freezing and making them snow and no Masculine would be safe from my sorrow and rage...

yeah as weird as it sounds, the thoughts I had if anything went wrong with my second cat, I would start Omnigeddon.

I know it isn't really possible, the whole Omnigeddon thing.

and I still rather my second cat have a very long life and live for many years to come.

it had hurt what happen with my first cat, and it be nice if they were given to me when they were a kitten like my second cat.

I know that any fluffy baby I get, they will end up being weird. XD

I know I had some form of bond with my first cat, plus the second cat I have seems to be like a more deeper bond, and it be nice it turns out my second cat is the reborn self of my first cat.

but seriously, if anything were to happen to them, like if they had went too soon before it was truly their time...

and if it were possible, I would freeze and have it snow in the 5th Heaven and The 5th Ring Of Hell...

I'm pretty sure there were a few times I went all Feral Earth Angel, well before figuring out that I am one...

like it being a mix of protectiveness in there half the time, not sure how many others went through as type of Feral Earth Angel Mode.

like if you have a cousin or sibling who is being picked on and you end up getting really mad and are about to head over there, but are held back from doing so by others who are family.

and not everyone has to believe it or agree with me on it, but there could be a deep reason why most humans end up being born in the wrong body, like even if someone who was born in a male or female body end up figuring out their gender identity doesn't match with them being really a gal or guy.

but the reasons could have to do with the imbalance, there could be only a few things we are discovering about it.

I still think that Hell wasn't always "Hell" and the Evil and Corruption that formed there could very well be from some form of miasma that was left unchecked along with their being a dangerous amount of Toxic-Masculine Energy.

what we know as Hell, may have been a Quarantine sector of The Earth Queendom, being a part of The Earthly Mother's domain.

which once again, may have had to go through Quarantine so the dangerous imbalance did not spread.

in one of the books I have that is by Nicholas Pearson.

the book "Stones Of The Goddess: Crystals For The Divine Feminine"

mentions about the dethroning of The Goddess, and it could be linked to some percent of the patriarchy being corrupted.

as weird it might be, I think there could be a type of Crystal that could allow to heal and purify souls before they are meant to reborn once again on Earth.

like picture a pure white glowing crystal that is like the Paradox Prism from Sonic Prime.

like souls are meant to go into the crystal and then come out, healed from the trauma that they may have suffered through in their past life and they can either choose to stay in the afterlife or be reborn once again.

as weird as a thought it might be, like some kind of Crystal that is white and large that it could be way bigger than a adult, even one who could be 6 or 7 feet tall.

like such a Crystal being in a type of rocky room, ya know like the room is round but is made out of rocks, like orange and having type of lava around it like a size of a small lake or fountain...

but it once having green grass, with flowers and the lava use to having water that surrounds the said Crystal.

this is just a theory, but what I am describing could turn out to be real......I mean possibly.

it also could also be possible that some souls are born into their human bodies well, placed into their human bodies before being fully born, too soon before their soul has a chance to fully figure out what they identify as, either it be Male, Female or Nonbinary.

so it wouldn't just be one type of imbalance that could be the reason why some percent end up being born in the wrong bio-gender body that don't match their soul's identity.

it can be different for different people, and it could be possible some souls could be Transgender but it could have to do with them reforming that has to do with the consciousness manifestation of light that is their bodies changing to the body that matches who they truly are at their hearts.

so Transgender can be different in the afterlife and celestial realm, because it wouldn't have the same type of pills or surgery.

anyway, there could be some Neutral Souls who could not only have the right balance of Masculine and Feminine energies, but could also have the Nonbinary Energy in there.

it could be possible I have both Nonbinary and Feminine Energy, even if some of the Masculine energy is suppose to be in there as well, but like the Masculine part will always be a part of humans, not just the males.

anyway the idea about the whole Earth Angel Ranks don't have to be taken seriously, but I think the whole Earth Angel Princess thing is already a rank because of that whole heritage I got...

I'm weird, so of course that "Earth Angel Princess" is going to pop into my head...

also I know that being Nonbinary and Intersex is separate, I mean I know I'm Aroaceflux and Fictoromantic and it could be possible I may have been Demiromantic but I'm not 100% sure.

I know I had bad luck with guys, even if some of them were online boyfriends, and any guy in real life I showed a bit of feelings for never truly returned the feelings...it might be thanks to my wearing my gem bracelets that I'm free from that, I can still get crushes of course but I have no interest in trying to get a boyfriend at this moment in time.

even if I did, they would need to respect my space and not touch me when I don't want to be touched or try to talk me into making-out when I may not feel like it....if I am okay with hand holding fine, even playing video games or watching a show or movie together...

but they are not allowed to put their arm around me unless I'm okay with it....

and hugging me from behind when I am not expecting it is REALLY not okay, cause they will likely startle me like a deer...

one of my family did that, and I was so surprised and not in a good way....but they know not to do that again, and I guess they are trying to make sure to remember how I don't like being touched at times...

with all that, and the whole weird thing that goes on with that Modern Radio, which lucky only happens once in a while...

it just reminds me a bit of Alastor from Hazbin Hotel.

I doubt he ever got seizures that were caused by the energies of both people and a place during childhood, so that can be one of the few differences.

I did explain about the weird stuff that happens when I point my fingers at the Modern Radio we have and then take it away, like at times the single will be better or not so much depending on what it will be.

I think it only happens once in a while, so that is pretty good.

I love sweets but even I can have days when I want something else besides sweets. Strawberries are one of my favorites, but there can be some strawberries that don't taste very good because their not as sweet...and it can have to do with the less love that is put into them.

so if a strawberry doesn't taste very good, it is because it has less love than the strawberries that are given the full love and care when being grown.

I'm not sure if I have much to say about the whole Earth Angel Ranks, but it could still be possible some percent of Earth Angels can end up being Nonbinary, some can be Intersex and some can be Transgender.

I still don't know many other Nonbinary Earth Angels, and well maybe there could be some who are Nonbinary besides me.

anyway not everyone has to agree about the whole imbalance thing that could be the cause of some humans being born into the wrong bio-gender body that might not match with their gender identity.

even if I can talk about my thoughts on the possibility, don't mean I will force others to agree. if some did agree, it would have to be of their own choice and free will.

[kstewdeux]

@inukagfluffweek

August 11, 2021 - Touch

Lewd

For the life of him, Inuyasha could not figure out why people were staring at them more than usual or, more unnervingly, why Miroku kept giving him some very uncomfortable glances filled to the brim with amusement. Per the norm when the things made him uneasy, Inuyasha had taken to sticking a little closer to Kagome than he traditionally would have in a clearly hostile village. Not because he couldn’t protect himself, okay? He was perfectly capable of protecting himself and had for over a hundred years. And, to be clear, being around her didn’t make him feel safe. Definitely didn’t need to feel safe when he could defeat these assholes with one hand behind his back. He absolutely did not need Kagome to protect him and she wouldn’t be able to do much on that front in any case. It was just that he felt a little more secure near her. Secure was not the same thing as safe. Not at all. He didn’t need her to feel safe. Just…a little more confident when he was admittedly a little anxious people were staring. At first, it actually wasn’t that bad but the stares just kept getting worse and so…

But he was not staying close because he was scared. He wasn’t scared of anything. Except, well, losing her so…so that was probably why he felt the need to stay close. So he could protect her if shit hit the fan. Knowing that she was safe made his chest less tight and his stomach stop churning. Sure as hell wasn’t because…

Letting out a controlled exhale, Inuyasha distractedly flicked at some crust that had somehow lodged itself in the corner of one eye before letting his hand drop again.

“What a beautiful public display,” Miroku hummed as he sidled up to his companions and gave Inuyasha a mischievous grin, “It’s almost heartwarming to see two young people so in love.”

For some unknown reason, Kagome choked as her heart started beating so fast from fear Inuyasha’s instincts nearly went into overdrive. Why the hell was the wench so terrified?

Glancing around, amber eyes widened at the realization that Kagome might be just as worried about the stares they’d been receiving. Maybe she was staying close to him for….similar reasons he’d been staying close to her.

“You need to shut up,” Inuyasha hissed quietly before lowering his volume more so as to not be overheard - somehow making the monk look even more amused, “This ain’t the place to say shit like that. The villagers have been watching me like a hawk.”

“I absolutely cannot imagine why,” Miroku snickered as he pointedly glanced down and set his jaw to keep his shit eating grin in check, “In any case, Sango is almost done buying provisions so why don’t we move on ahead, hm?”

“Fine by me,” Inuyasha huffed as he began walking forward only to realize - when the thing in his hand jerked once to keep him in place - exactly why people were staring. Amber eyes widened in mild horror as they darted to the hand clasped securely in his own which was attached to the miko herself.

When did they start holding hands? He sure as hell didn’t do that and yet his palm was slightly sweaty indicating he’d been holding her hand for some time now.

“We should wait for her,” Kagome chided nervously as she gave Inuyasha’s hand a light squeeze making butterflies erupt in his stomach, “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

Mentally going over their day, Inuyasha tried to pin point when exactly the hand-holding started. They’d been walking side by side most of the day but he…he didn’t remember…

She must’ve started it.

“Why are you holding my hand?” Inuyasha asked - even though he took no action to cease the contact.

Giving him a strange look, the miko gave him an answer he did not like.

“Because you kept putting your hand in mine?” Kagome replied slowly - her worried look morphing into an amused one, “Wait…”

Some flashed behind her eyes and the melting look on her face made his stomach churn.

“Aw, you didn’t…”

“No ‘aw’. There is no ‘aw’ here,” Inuyasha huffed as he pulled his hand back and tucked both hands into his sleeves, “You did this. Not me.”

The melting look increased and Kagome gave him an affectionate smile.

“Awww….”

“What did I say about no ‘aw’!” Inuyasha huffed desperately, “I didn’t start this.”

“Yes you did,” Kagome sing songed and much to Inuyasha utter shock, a nearby elderly human woman chuckled softly to herself while looking between the pair with something akin to strangerly affection. Which disturbed him as much if not more than whatever was happening with him and his wandering hand.

Breathing heavily, Inuyasha’s mind continued racing down every moment of this fateful day. Trying to find the moment or apparently moments where he’d been the one to instigate the offensive touch but no matter how hard he tried, he had no memory of it. None whatsoever. Every minute of that day had felt natural. Normal even.

“D-do I do shit like that a lot?” he finally asked - his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to keep his composure.

“No but I liked it,” Kagome admitted with a hum before taking a step closer and giving him a shy smile that had his ears pinning back against his head.

And then she did something that absolutely crashed his mind…

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

“You can hold my hand whenever you…”

“Are you insane?! You can’t just kiss me like that in strange villages,” Inuyasha hissed as his mind finally caught up - his hand desperately trying to wipe away the perceived sin. Kagome’s grin only made his anger and discomfort grow hotter.

“To be clear then, it’s okay if I do that in familiar places?” came her teasing retort and for a moment, Inuyasha was almost very, very stupid. He almost said something along of the line of forbidding kisses entirely. Something he most certainly did not want to forbid. Especially considering she was pretty much saying she’d give him kisses if he wanted them.

Blushing faintly, Inuyasha decided the best course of action was to react normally. Brush her off and declare her stupid…

Thankfully the old woman watching saw the incoming relationship bomb coming before it landed and for some unknown reason, felt inclined to defuse the explosive before it detonated.

“Be bold boy and say yes,” the elderly woman chuckled softly, “A girl like that won’t wait for you forever and the monk is right. Anyone with eyes can see you love her.”

“Stay outta this” Inuyasha snapped irritably - a reaction to which the old woman thankfully seemed amused by, “What makes you so bold?”

Miroku’s hand flew to the top of his head - hoping his friend didn’t just incur someone’s wrath and also…didn’t Inuyasha just say they shouldn’t draw attention to themselves? Was this just how he coped with fear and anxiety? Antagonize people? If so, how was Inuyasha still alive?!

“Well this was my husbands village and now it belongs to my son. Everything that happens here is my business,” the old woman hummed - giving the somewhat nervous trio a reassuring smile, “And seeing as how you’re in my village, what I say goes.”

“Crack pot,” Inuyasha huffed - earning a full blown facepalm from the miko - and the old woman, to her credit, simply smirked. Not at all afraid of the teenager even with all his fangs and demonic energy. Mostly because he was obviously domesticated and in the presence of equally powerful friends who could stop him from doing any real damage but also because this demon clearly had a good heart and therefore, she reasoned, wouldn’t harm her.

And while that was all mostly true, that didn’t mean Inuyasha wasn’t seriously considering punching her.

“Inuyasha, you need to be nicer to people.”

“Fine. Fine,” Inuyasha huffed as his blush deepened. Glancing at the old woman to make sure she wasn’t upset by what he’d said, Inuyasha turned his gaze back towards the miko who was clearly expecting him to apologize to the old woman. Which he wasn’t gunna do but he could fix one thing that probably needed fixing for a while now.

Squaring his shoulders, Inuyasha cleared his throat and…tried…

“It’d be annoying but if you…you want to kiss me sometimes, I won’t stop you.”

Kagome blinked once then twice.

“Come again?”

Quickly reaching over to push Miroku away face first before he could add in his two cents, Inuyasha tried to look like what he’d said wasn’t awkward as hell.

“I said if you want to kiss me, go ahead. Old bat was right,” Inuyasha hufffed before his eyes widened in horror at what he’d impulsively implied, “I mean, you already j-just do shit. I c-can’t really stop you.”

Kagome made a bemused face and wrinkled her nose at this bizarre admission. That was at least twice now that Inuyasha hadn’t shot someone down after they announced he loved her. Which was unusual and for someone as easily triggered as he was, that left her with a most wonderful conclusion.

One that he apparently realized she’d come to and so Inuyasha did what Inuyasha do.

He tried to protect himself. Poorly.

“I see that look. Don’t be stupid. I mean…yeah, she was right about…about the love part…I do, um, love you, ya know, as a friend. A good friend. And, um, sometimes friends they kiss I think.”

“Well if that is true I must inform San…”

With a soft groan at his own cringeworthy awkwardness, Inuyasha once again necessarily pressed his hand against the closer than usual monk’s face and gave it a light push. This was already nerve racking enough without the monk making it more weird on purpose. First he was holding his woman’s hand without realizing and now he’d all but admitted how he felt. Something he’d been denying himself because he didn’t want to force someone to walk beside him as he faced the constant pile of shit being thrown at him. Add to that he didn’t deserve to be happy when Kikyo was suffering and it was just…wrong to feel like he did.

What he wanted didn’t matter. It never mattered…

Kagome smiled and his stomach turned into pleasant knots.

Except it did. Hell did it ever. He couldn’t even go more than a day without this woman before he lost his fucking mind. What was he going to do if she knew and didn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if a chance at a relationship ended badly?! If she left him, she’d take the only friends he’d ever had with her…

He’d be alone…

“Uh….huh…”

Panicking now, Inuyasha decided to rely on old faithful and go for an insult to force her back into friendship lane. This was getting into dangerous territory. She knew. Mainly because he told her but he…he could fix it.

“W-why are you so s-stupid, huh?” Inuyasha added a little desperately and much to his horror Kagome’s knowing smile only grew, “I’m just saying you just do shit and…I mean, what am I supposed to do, huh? You just throw yourself at…”

The old woman snickered at the scene and threw in her thoughts with a bemused laugh, “Please just kiss him young lady and put us all out of our misery. He talks far too much for his own good.”

“STAY OUTTA THIS YOU OLD…” Inuyasha began to bellow before whimpering softly when Kagome sealed his mouth with her own. Before he knew it, his arms were pulling her up and against him to give her the best access. It was beautiful and pure and everything he’d hoped a real kiss would be like. While she had done that before, this was the first time she’d done it for a reason other than saving his sorry ass. She’d done that only because she wanted to and that fact that she’d done it just because nearly brought a tear to his eye. Did she…did she love him back?

“You know,” Kagome panted lightly as she pulled back and nuzzled her man’s nose, “I love you too.”

Visibly wilting in relief, Inuyasha gave Kagome the most affectionate look anyone had ever seen on his face. A look that crumpled and turned to annoyance when Miroku made another comment about ‘public displays’.

The old woman simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way - mentally chuckling to herself about how the youth of today could be so foolish and how life was far too short.

A short distance away her middle aged son was watching his mother with a weary smile while the pair of mercenaries seemed to discuss something of great magnitude.

“That’s a dangerous thing you just did.”

“I did nothing but nudge those two down a path they were already on,” the old woman chuckled softly - reaching out to pat her son’s arm, “Love is love sweetheart. It’s one of those funny things in life that just is.”

For a long moment, the son watched the newly formed couple as they resumed holding hands before sighing and turning to follow his mother.

“I meant you meddle far too much” the son continued - glancing over his shoulder to make sure they went being overheard, “They’re mercenaries by trade. You saw their weapons. Probably fresh from some war and…”

“Mercenaries deserve love as well…”

The son let out a long exhale and rolled his eyes.

“Mother. That boy had claws…”

“Claws deserve love…”

The son stopped mid step and groaned that kind of exasperated groan only a child with an embarrassing parent would understand before glancing over his shoulder to watch the little band move on towards their next bounty. One day his mother was going to try to play matchmaker with the wrong two people…

But thankfully, it would seem she always managed to pick the right ones.

[mischief-marauders]

Modern Marauders: Halloween costume gone wrong

Sirius slammed his charms book down on his desk. “No! Do not ask me again! I am not risking your parent's wrath!"

James sat next to him and flashed him a grin. “Our parents. You don’t want to risk our parent's wrath.”

Sirius smiled softly with a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Our parents.”

James slapped his knee and Sirius gave him a smirk. ‘I’m still not risking it”

James flopped back on the bed and groaned. 

It was Halloween night and they were home, bored out of their minds. James would’ve gone out but Sirius was grounded due to an unfortunate mix of boredness, fireworks, Remus’ favorite sweater, and a Charms classroom. James didn’t want to leave Sirius by himself so he didn’t make plans. Until he checked Instagram and saw that Lily and Remus had gone to a muggle party in her neighborhood. It had all of his favorite things. An unsupervised house party, alcohol, and Lily. Oh and Remus.

James pouted at Sirius. “Please Sirius? Lily and Remus are having the time of their lives and you know how much I love Halloween parties. I promise we’ll sneak out and be back before mom and dad get home.”

Sirius snorted as he read his Charms book, doing the extra readings as part of his punishment.  “Your plans never work and we always end up getting in trouble. I don’t want to risk our parent's wra-”, Sirius paused as James looked at him with a puppy dog face. 

“I am not falling for that asshole,” Sirius said as he scowled at James.

James' eyes got bigger and his bottom lip protruded more.

Sirius groaned. “If I say yes, will you stop?”

James whooped and sprinted to their shared closet. “Yes. Now, what’re we going to wear? Oh! We can wear out Hogwarts robes!”

Sirius clapped sarcastically. “Great idea Jamie! Let's wear the uniform from our school of magic to a muggle party. Dumbledore would love that"

James groaned in frustration. What else could there be? He had a Mexican and Brazilian soccer jersey but that would be too basic. He needed something fresh. Original. Something that would impress Lily. He suddenly spotted a lone red hoodie and grabbed it with a triumphant smile on his face. He turned to Sirius, holding the hoodie above him like a prize.

Sirius raised his eyebrows as James asked “So, what are your opinions of paint on fur?”

Remus took a sip of his beer and surveyed the party with practiced disinterest. Lily’s neighbors who went to a muggle school in the area had invited them and while he wasn't too fond of Halloween and seeing people in werewolf costumes, he needed to get out a bit. Lily sidled up to him and let an exaggerated sigh of air. She was in the Scarlet Witch costume she had worn some time ago for his birthday party. He donned his Captain America costume to match with her. It was still the best birthday he had ever had and he loved having an excuse to put it on again

“Still haven’t talked to Sirius yet?”

Remus snorted and took a gulp of beer. He had been giving Sirius the cold shoulder. They all had plans to come to the party together but someone had the bright idea to set off fireworks during charms class. Which resulted in a furious Flitwick and Remus’ favorite sweater being charred. 

“I still need to ignore him for a couple more days to make sure he gets the message.” 

Suddenly, Remus yelped and dropped his beer on the grass as something nosed at his ass. Lily turned around, fist up and ready to pummel whoever decided to grab Remus when she dropped her fist and a grin overtook her face. James was standing there, grinning and dressed as Miguel from Coco and Sirius in dog form, painted to look like Dante. James was wearing jeans, a white shirt, a red hoodie over top, and his face was painted like a skull. Sirius the dog was covered in a rainbow of colors and patterns, looking exactly like one of the magical Alebrije’s from the movie. 

Lily laughed and asked “Are you serious?” at the same time that Remus bent down, scowling at the dog and asking, “Are you Sirius?”. 

Padfoot wagged his tail and barked at Remus.

James shrugged and said, “I was going to bring a guitar but that would’ve been too much.”

Remus ran his hands through Padfoot’s fur and scowled at James. “Do you know how long it’s going to take to get this paint out of his fur?”

James ruffled his hair in nervousness and tried not to make eye contact with the dog. 

“Oh come on, I looked it up. The paint will come off when he transforms back."

Remus narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Padfoot growled at him. James flashed him an overconfident grin, hoping it masked his lie. He had zero idea if the paint would come off. Sirius only agreed to be painted if it would come off immediately after.

Suddenly, Padfoot turned around and trotted into the house, full of blaring music and dancing teenagers. 

Lily traced her finger over the paint on James’ face.

“This looks amazing. I didn’t even think you knew what Coco was.”

James put his hand over hers and flashed her a small smile. 

“I heard you talking about how it's your favorite movie and it does have my people in it. I had to watch it. You have good taste by the way."

Remus was pretending to vomit at their flirting when a terrified girl in zombie makeup came out of the house, walking straight to them. 

“Um Lily?’, she started nervously, “Your friend's rainbow dog is drinking beer from a bowl in the kitchen. We tried to take it away but he growled and snapped at us”

Remus groaned and ran into the house, mumbling “Dumb dog”

Zombie girl drifted away as James grabbed Lily around the waist and put his hands gently on her hips. 

“By the way, I love the costume. You look amazing.”

Lily blushed and opened her mouth to flirt back when she was interrupted by Remus being dragged out of the house, his wrist clamped gently between Padfoots teeth. 

“Sirius, where are you taking me? I shouldn’t even be talking to you after what you just pulled. I don’t know how things worked at the noble and ancient house of incest, but dogs normally don't drink alcohol."

He paused as some of the people milling about outside of the house looked at him in confusion. 

“Can I fucking help you?”, he snarled at them. He glared at them until they all turned away awkwardly. Padfoot dragged him into the woods next to the house. 

All Lily and James could hear was Remus muttering “If you’re dragging me into the woods to try something, I hope you know I’m not turned on by the dog form”  

James looked down into Lily’s eyes. She looked ethereal under the moonlight. Her green eyes were alight and looked like shining emeralds. The look in her eyes and smirk on her lips drove him insane. He will always be amazed at the fact that she gave him a chance to show her that he's not a toerag. It's been months and every day it feels like a dream come true. He leaned his head down a little and she lifted her's to meet him halfway. Their lips were less than an inch away from each other when they heard screaming coming from the woods. James and Lily looked up startled as they saw Remus running out of the woods, bent over with laughter. A scream of frustration came from behind him along with the sound of pounding feet.  

“I’m going to fucking kill you James!’ Sirius roared as he ran straight at him from the woods, completely naked in human form, yet still covered in the paint he had on with his dog form. 

Lily screeched and covered her eyes as Sirius tackled a laughing James and knocked him over. 

Remus was bent over, gasping for air between his laughter. 

"You should've seen his face when he saw that he was still painted" Remus crowed, his face alight with mirth.

Sirius sat on top of a cackling James and pinned his arms behind his head. He struggling to hold him and let out a groan of frustration

“Stop laughing so I can kill you, asshole”

“You look so good though!” James wheezed between laughter and gasps of air as Sirius punched him in the stomach.

“You knew the paint wouldn't come off” Sirius hissed angrily.

James' eyes were watering with tears as he tried to break from Sirius’ hold. 

“I didn’t think you were going to transform back so soon! How was I going to know that you would try to get frisky with Remus during a Halloween party when you have zero clothes? C’mon, you wouldn’t have come with me otherwise and this costume needed a multicolored dog”

Sirius let out a huff of angry air as he punched James one last time and then stood up. He couldn't even be mad. It was a genius idea and something he probably would've done. This was going to be funny as hell if they somehow managed to get the paint off before their parents came home.

Remus wiped the tears from his eyes and struggled to stop laughing as Lily ran into the house and came back out with a tablecloth. She handed it to Sirius and helped a groaning James up as Remus helped tie it around him in toga style. 

Sirius was tying it in the front when he turned slightly and flashed a cheesy grin at Lily. “My eyes are up here Evans”

Lily rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You wish Black. I've seen enough of you tonight to last me several lifetimes. Do you have any shame at all? Are you not embarrassed to be naked in public? Is public nudity normal to you?”

Sirius shrugged and held Remus' hand. "What's there to be embarrassed by?"

Remus raised his eyebrows at Lily. "You should try sharing a dorm with him. He doesn't believe in doors, curtains, or privacy."

"He thinks he's God's gift to humanity", James said as he checked his abdomen for broken ribs. Once he was sure that nothing was broken, he held his bruised stomach and grinned at each of his best friends. He wrapped one hand around Lily's waist and he threw his other arm around Sirius's shoulders, making sure to squeeze his shoulder hard enough to bruise. 

“Now that thats over, let's party?'" James said as he led his friends back into the party, humming Proud Corazon under his breath. 

[whump-town]

Maybe Time Running Out Is A Gift

Very much so inspired by "If We Were Vampires" by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit

Hotchniss— just domestic bliss and no catch

There’s something about these nights, the summer nights that sit thick with humidity that seems to draw him that much closer to her. They have mingled enough that it wouldn’t be the first time he got his sweat all over her-- he is but a dorky man at the end of the day and deprives a twisted joy out of coming into their home wet with the sweat from working outside and wrapping her up in his arms so she has to feel it. He’d done it just today after seeing her poking about the house in jean overalls and an old sports bra. Had known the rush of mischief he’d felt when she groaned and tried to get away when he grabbed her. She’d thought they were far too old for these antics, it’s clear he doesn’t agree. Which is a rich thought coming from someone who waited until he was pinned under the sink to tickle his sides so he couldn’t escape.

The air conditioner hums away as it tries to overpower the Virginia heat and the windows Aaron insisted they leave open for the slight draft. She’s not sure why she caved to his argument because now he’s the one swaddled in his blankets, tucked up against her, and she’s sweating her ass off. It’s in moments like these that she’s reminded of that fury she harbored upon their first meeting. Of the stubborn as all hell man whose desk she’d stretched across to shake his hand only for him to meet her eyes and purposely get her college wrong. He’d admitted this years ago, a shameful blush creeping up his neck as he retold his thought process. Of the joy, he’d gotten out of her annoyance and she’d whacked him with the closest magazine she could find being reminded of just how easily he has always managed to get into her head.

That man that day has been many things over the course of their lives. Her enemy, the man she was hired to take down. For a while, she’d thought about it. He was a hateful man and she a spiteful woman-- the perfect mix of misery to see that in one another and exacerbate it exponentially. Then a mystery, an enigma she looked at like the most fascinating puzzle and, despite her best attempts, had begun to like. Somehow they stumbled into acquaintances until it was him she wanted to tell her shitty jokes to and him she wanted to wait for to go get drinks. To sitting beside his unconscious body in the ICU, listening to his labored breathing and wondering if this would end if for him. How much will he give before it becomes too much?

Now he’s the man drooling on her shoulder, whose arm over her hips is comforting and familiar. She wants to shake her head at him, to complain about how clingy he is, but she knows she’s lucky. The men of her past are horrible and they make a little drool seem like nothing at all. Her father was emotionally manipulative, never raised a hand but sometimes he threw words like the crack of a belt. She could feel their sting on her cheek. There was John, just a little older than her, but enrapturing with his cigarettes and free will. He’d used her and abandoned her when their actions had created a life neither would survive. How many between then and Ian? She can’t even remember them all. The other girls used to call her a whore but she had no concept of her own body. Just that she liked the attention of men and the only way to keep that attention was sex. It worked with every man she ever met.

Except for Aaron.

She can remember the flood of embarrassment she’d felt the first time she tried to stick her hand down his pants. The way their casual kissing had gotten a little heated and he’d stopped her, gently rubbing her hand as he pulled it away from his belt. “Slow,” he’d reminded her and she’d blushed but he’d soothed that too. Reminded her he just has to be sure if not for their jobs then for Jack because he’s not exactly given set a great standard for dating. He’d kissed her again, cupping her cheek, and turned his attention back to the movie. She still remembers the shock of that. Of him. The way he kissed and touched her like every single second she allowed him close was something he cherished. She doesn’t think anyone’s really touched her like that. As if they meant it.

Now she’s stuck with him.

Despite the grown man laying all over her and the heat of the room, she manages to fall asleep. Somewhere between his soft snoring and thinking about the garden and the flowers he’s left on their porch still in their containers.

When she wakes he’s not in bed. The early morning has not brought on the wrath of mid-day’s heat, leaving the air conditioner to power on and her to shiver under the blankets without him there to wrap himself around her. She lays there for a few more moments before her left hip starts to ache from the position and she realizes that she has to get up to stretch and pee. In motion, there’s no point in crawling back into bed. Not unless she can convince Aaron to come back for a nap later.

She pulls on an old pair of his sweatpants before venturing out to him. He’s full of all the same old habits so she knows exactly where he is. “Good morning,” she greets, stepping out on the porch. He’s surrounded by children, sparring her only a glance as he looks up from his apple cutting. This is an everyday sort of thing. Every morning at seven he greets the neighbor’s children on their porch, bringing with him three apples or oranges to divide between himself and the children as they wait for the bus. She’s wordlessly passed an apple slice.

“So,” she asks, taking a seat on the porch swing and smiling as one of the kids climbs up after her. “How are we doing this morning? Ready for school?” Most of the kids are elementary schoolers so they cheer with big gap-toothed grins around the slices of apple Aaron’s supplied them. They have only one high schooler, a seventeen-year-old who simply winces around his apple. She doesn’t miss it. “Have you gotten any of those college applications in back yet?”

Aaron looks up, hand stilling to wait for an answer.

Arthur, the boy in question, averts their gaze to swallow thickly and admit, “I-- I don’t know.” He bites into his apple, kicking at the concrete corner of the edge of the porch. Anything to avoid them, to pull the attention back away from him. “Don’t want to look.”

She should have known, he’s placed the whole porch between them and him. She hums, “why can’t you check them?” She knows he’s got other things to tend to which is probably how he’s been able to put off checking the applications as long as he has. Melancholy hits her a little hard as she recalls the last time she and Aaron had to help an anxious to the point of anger teenager through the thorns and thickets of college application papers. Jack hadn’t been very happy about all the paperwork either. Smart as a whip but dissolving to the point of tears by the pure amount of information he needed to fill in until he’d give up with an angry wipe of his face and the soft admission “I don’t understand it”. It had all been worth the tears of joy and Aaron’s near heart attack at his son’s sudden shout when he’d gotten them back. He’d taken his laptop back to his room, needed to be alone just in case they came back bad.

Of course, they hadn’t.

Arthur glances at Aaron before swallowing and shrugging. “Dunno,” he mumbles.

The bus is his saving grace and he wastes no time throwing his bookbag over his shoulder and offering a quick wave before tearing off for it. The other children bounce about as Aaron splits the rest of the apple in his hand between them. “Arthur!” he shouts, watching between the knife in his hand and the teen now coming to a staggering halt. “Just check the applications, huh? I’m sure you got into all of them. They’d be fools not to take you.” Aaron’s already looking back down, mumbling something with a smile to the others before sending them off. Never sees the way Arthur looks back at him, stunned in silence until one of his sisters smacks into him and jolts him back to Earth.

Emily observes Aaron for a moment, watches him pop the last sliver of apple in his mouth before wiping the blade of his pocket knife off on his jeans. Observing the blade for a moment before shaking his head and muttering, “damn things dull again.” He meets her gaze, oblivious to her thoughts, and shows her. “I think I need a new one.”

She could care less about his stupid pocket knife-- especially when she knows he’s had that one for longer than she’s known him and he won’t get a new one. She’s lost thinking about how old they are. How the two of them have surpassed every joke they made in their pasts about dying too soon, too young. They’ve raised Jack and have somehow made it to the age where she realizes, that they’re at the grandparenting age. Something she hadn’t even thought about until seeing Aaron just now. His baggy old sweater and the ease he has with being around children that would be the perfect age to look as if they were his own grandchildren and suddenly she yearns to see him with them. To see Jack become a father and to be able to see that light in Aaron’s eyes.

And, well, maybe she’d like a son or daughter-in-law out of Jack too and grandkids. A woman can dream… when was the last time she even got to hold a baby?

“Coffee?” Aaron asks, standing from his rocking chair and offering her hand. She nods and takes it, wincing at the chill of his skin. It reminds her that Thursday he has two doctor’s appointments both of which he’ll hate, not that he likes any of them, but he really hates the meeting with the orthopedics who push at his sore hips and want to check every square inch of his body. All for the same old thing. A higher dosage of the medication he takes for his shitty vascular system and the threat that if he doesn’t start taking care of his right hip better with the exercises they advise he’ll be hobbling about with a cane by the end of the year.

But they always say that. He’d rather just take the cane and call it a day.

Meanwhile, she gets by with her obscene amounts of coffee. Her hip is always hurting but she never does anything about it and her doctors praise her for excellent health and great blood pressure and just everything. It drives him crazy.

He makes the coffee while she’s puttering about the house, two cups made the exact same way. The way she likes because he already knows he’ll get halfway through this cup, like he always does, before leaving it to entertain some random thought he’s had. Which means he’s leaving it for her to finish and he also really likes the ratio of creamer that she prefers and it’s a good reason to indulge in all the silly little fancy additions he can make to it.

She takes the mug he offers with a smile, sipping the too-hot liquid before it cooled enough and sucking in a breath through her teeth with a wince. The same mistake every day, she never learns. “Will you get those flowers off my porch?” she asks. She pulls the sliding glass door to their backyard open, stepping out and knowing he’s right on her heels. “They’re going to die if you don’t get them into the ground.”

Last week or maybe Monday they’d gone out to Lowe’s to get her lumber for a bookshelf. He’d wandered off while she found what wood she wanted and what stain she thought would go best. She was not surprised when he came back grinning and told her about the flowers he’d loaded into the cart. She’d only half-listened as the Lowe’s guys put the wood in the back of the truck but the point is there will be lots of yellows and purples and, she can only remember one of the names because he’d particularly excited about these, orange black-eyed susan vines. Which are all sitting on the front porch waiting for him.

He grunts.

“And make sure you put sunblock on your neck,” she adds, sneaking a smirk his way. The last time he’d been gardening he’d taken off his hat and burnt the hell out of the back of his neck. Was miserable for days because of it and, naturally, all his groaning became her problem.

He squints his eyes at her but says nothing. He’ll remember the sunblock this time.

They separate off into their tasks for the day.

She leaves him on the back porch with a kiss to the temple and rustle of his hair, off to find her copy of the “The Illustrated Man” wherever she left it last. She’ll take it out to the hammock between the trees in their backyard so she can watch him as she takes breaks from reading. He’s already brought his flowers around when she gets back out, standing there looking all kinds of confused as he scratches his head absently as he thinks. Eyes darting around the dirt as he comes up with how he wants to plant the flowers.

“We can get mulch Thursday after your doctor’s appointment,” she says as she passes, patting his butt as does so. He’s lost the sweater stripped down to his worn jeans and a thin white t-shirt. He grunts at her suggestion both as a yes and a wordless complaint at being reminded of his doctor’s appointment.

It doesn’t take him long to figure out where he wants things and she watches him get to it. She’s certainly had her fun picking at him for filling his retirement with something so typically feminine as planting flowers but she thinks it’s terribly sweet. She loves just how proud he is of his little garden and every year he talks about planting vegetables too. The man’s got a hell of a green thumb, he could do it.

With a hum, she stretches out in the hammock and makes a mental note to ask Morgan if he knows anything about vegetable gardens. If they can get him over here to pull the ground up she’s certain Aaron would have something down in the dirt as soon as he could. Wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t already have the seeds ready.

The kids would love that. She smirks into her book, satisfied with herself. It’s settled then, she decides. She’ll call Morgan and get Reid to help them find vegetables that are in season. They’ll love that.

It’s the perfect beginning to her day and with any luck, it’ll stay that way.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom is part of the Firm, a fearless London gang. You are at the wrong place at the wrong time.  

Word count: 1,7k

Themes: Mob!Tom, Peaky Blinders inspired, period piece – this is set in 1961, London. 

Warnings:  This story will contain themes such as kidnapping, murders, violence and smut. Also a lot of swearing. Also mentions of injuries. Also alcohol, smoking and mentions of drugs.  this is a +18 story

A/N: This is a relationship that I wouldn't recommend in real life. Also, the Firm was the name of the Kray twins gang. I was just too lazy to come up with a name of my own.  

THIS IS PART I

1961 – London

Tom curses the cold weather as he pulls his coat tighter around him with numb fingers. He curses the chilly London night and the long walk from Charing Cross station too. And, while he’s at it, he curses his split lip and broken rib as well. Fuck it, he curses the entire world and everybody in it tonight.        

He especially curses fucking Harrison.        

Harrison who didn’t show up for duty tonight - in failing to do so not only risking the wrath of their leader, a certain Mr. Fabien Towner, but also risking putting Tom in danger by forcing him to handle the situation all on his own. Fucking dick. Tom guesses his old friend had gotten caught up with whichever girl had taken his fancy for the day; forgetting all he should know of duty, and forcing Tom to single handedly go in to collect from the mug who owed the Firm ten grand.        

It had not gone down easily, and Tom had taken his fair share of hits to the head. He now had a swollen cheek, a split lip, a broken rib and a big envelope of cash safely hidden underneath his coat. 

He inhales the icy cold air and upon exhaling he watches as it rises to the sky like thick pearly smoke.       

Little snowflakes start to slowly drift down from the sky, lighting up the dark night; painting the pavement white.

Further up the road he sees two young women stepping out of a building. They’re giggling, clearly intoxicated, and clutching on to one another for support, making their way down the stairs and into the waiting cab. He sees them both clearly in the light from the street’s only functioning lamp; as they’re standing just under it. The girl nearest to him is wearing fine silk and furs in powdery pink and white, her hair done up professionally and roughed cheeks and painted lips. Even from this distance he recognises her.        

It’s you.    

Even through the dark, snowy London night he sees it clear as day. Even though he hasn’t seen you since you were both teenagers; when he abruptly had to leave school, he recognises you immediately, and suddenly he feels like he is a sixteen-year-old child again; wishing for a miracle, as if he’s stretching out his hand beyond its reach. Sure, your face and hair is all made up and you’re no longer wearing a school uniform. But it’s you alright. There’s still a sweetness about you, in your silk and your fur and with your sugar-pink lips. You still feel impossibly out of reach. A thin layer of snow covers the cobbled street, like powdered sugar, and you’re leaving a trace of foot prints in it.       

A vision strikes him, of his hand, slowly pulling the pink slip of a dress up your thigh as you clutch onto his shoulders. He wants to find out what’s softer to his touch; the silk or your skin. He watches as you and your friend make it into the cab, and then he watches as it drives off into the night.        

And he remembers.        

Remember how at fifteen, just days before he first met Fabien; in a time before he knew anything about how to fight with his fists or fire a gun or about the Firm.       

He’d been chased by his school yard tormentor, Jamie Easom, and his fellow bullies. Trying to get away and to safety he had rushed into the girls’ bathroom without second thought. You had stood there, in front of the mirror; fixing your hair (and maybe it’s reconstruction after the fact, but he swears you wore a halo of light upon your head). He had stared at you with big eyes, like a deer in headlines, looking at the girl he’d been mesmerized with for years. You’d immediately caught on and in a gentle voice told him to hide in one of the bathroom stalls. Then you had walked out of the bathroom. Through the door he’d heard you speaking to Jamie. Heard Jamie asking if you’d seen him and heard your lie as you told the meanest kid in school no, he’s not here. Then he’d heard Jamie asking you out for the millionth time and, to his satisfaction, he heard you turning him down - yet again.        

A few days after that Tom had met Fabien for the first time, a chance meeting that could have ended very differently. Luckily, the leader of London's most notorious gang had been impressed with him, and well, that was the beginning of the end of his school days. Fabian had given him a very different kind of education. He had trained him in an underground gym with a boxer, who taught Tom all he there was to know about fighting back.       

Fabien himself had taken Tom to the Hungry Lion, the home of the Firm, and taught Tom how to drink Irish whiskey without wincing as it burned down his throat and how to smoke cigarettes, deep drags, without coughing; how to dress like a man. And most importantly, he taught Tom how to negotiate, how to think five steps ahead of everybody else.     

Fabien had sat him down and taught him not only the rules of chess, but how to win every game. No matter the opponent.    

Not long after he had joined the Firm a particularly gruesome fight in the school yard between himself and Jamie had taken place. Jamie had ended up in the hospital and Tom, well, he had been thrown out of school.    

Since that day he was a full-time employee in the Firm.        

He’d met Haz in an underground boxing ring. He’d been one hell of an opponent in a dirty fight that ended in victory for Tom, (though Haz always claims that the victory had more to do with the fact that Tom had made him burst out in laughter at one point and then, when Haz was off guard, tackled him to the ground). Fabien had been impressed with the blonde. Now Tom and Harrison were as good as brothers.

Eventually Tom’s actual brothers had joined them as well and they were now what Fabian referred to as “the younger generation” of the Firm.      

As chance would have it just two years after Tom had been kicked out of school a certain Jamie Easom had joined the Firm as well. Cocky and arrogant as ever he’d been recruited by Fabien’s right hand, Eoghan Shelley, who’d seen Jamie in a pub brawl and been impressed by the young man’s knack for senseless violence.       

As Fabien had told Tom in confidence during one whiskey fueled meeting; Jamie was someone who you hired to fight, but whom you didn’t trust to think. Jamie was part of the muscle of the machine; not the brain behind it.        

Jamie knew the instructions – harm, threaten, kill.

He never knew the reasons behind them - (money, pride, knowledge).       

Jamie never stopped to question motive. He got an order and he followed it through. He didn’t question why Fabien would want a business to, quite literally, burn down to the ground, or why a man needed to be taken out. He never questioned, either out loud or to himself, why Fabien would want that. Nor did he consider the victims point of view; their motives or reasons.       

He got an order and he followed it through. He was a dog on a tight leash. So, the instructions were clear and simply. (bark, attack, kill).       

Tom, on the other hand Fabien trusted to think on his own. Trusted that Tom had the brain to know what was necessary to do in any given situation. He also knew that Tom had the guts to carry it out, no matter the instruction.    

There were those, certain malicious tongues, speaking in hushed voices behind closed doors; who thought that old Fabien Towner put too much trust in the youngster. Had gone a bit soft on him. That there were those, older and more experienced, that deserved Fabien’s trust.       

The fact was that Tom wore the word protégée like second skin. It clung to him like a varsity jacket does to a young star scorer. Like it belonged to him, as if he was born for it.  

The new hope.      

And the fact was that Fabien cast a mighty big shadow and no one, especially not those with wagging tongues, dared stepping out of it. For Fabien kept all his little soldiers in check and that very much included the new hope.      

Finally he arrives at his destination and he steps into the Hungry Lion. Inside the pub it’s warm and loud, barking laughter coming from the men drinking pints big as their heads, and singing can be heard coming  from a group of people huddled up in the corner booth. The scent of smoke and beer fills the air. It’s warm and dirty and home. It makes a sharp contrast to the chilly, quiet London night outside.        

He walks over to his regular booth, orders Sam to get him a whiskey and sits down opposite of Harry. Sam hurries off to the bar and Harry takes one long look at Tom’s wounded face.      

“Getting slow in your old age, huh?”      

“Fuck off” is all Tom can be bothered to answer, too exhausted and done with this day. “’s Fabien here yet?”       

Harry shakes his head and looks away from his brother's bruised face. “Not yet” he says in the end and puts out his cigarette. Then, “where’s Hazza?”   

Tom sighs and fishes up his own package of Lucky Strike cigarettes. Placing one between his lips he lights up and inhales deeply. Leaning back in his seat he exhales in a sigh before responding. “Fuck who knows” he says, just as Sam comes back with his drink. He hands it to Tom, who greedily takes a sip of the amber liquid before sitting down next beside his twin.       

“What you mean?” Harry questions, brows furrowed. “Wasn’t he with you collecting?”      

“Nope” Tom answers, trying to keep his anger under wraps. “Didn’t show up. Reckon he’s cock deep in some bird some-“ but before he can finish Haz stumbles into the pub. His left white sleeve is sticky wet with blood and he’s clutching onto his shoulder. His face is pale and sweaty, and he looks around the room, clearly searching for someone; but before he can find the right man he stumbles and falls to the ground; where he stays. Passed out.       

For a few devastatingly long moments silence fills the old pub as they all look at Harrison’s left shoulder.       

It has a bullet wound.

***

Taglist:   @londonmademedoit  @isthataladybag   @ceexreverse  @daygiowvibe @averyfosterthoughts @applenter @viwihere @youcompletemess

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 7 -- Black Hearts

Word Count: 15131

READ ON AO3

For many, the Ghost Zone landscape would be chilling, at best, and nightmare-inducing, at worst. Unlike Earth and its well-defined limits, both natural and manmade, the Infinite Realms consisted of an infinite abyss of floating ectoplasmーif you travelled, you knew where your journey would start, but not where it ended. Most people didn’t even know when it ended, either. 

Only a few experienced visitors were knowledgeable enough to recognise each and every one of its landmarks to guide them. Fortunately for Danny, he was one such experienced visitor. As well as an inhabitant. 

Maybe he didn’t know the Ghost Zone like the palm of his invisible hand, like Sojourn had in his day, but seven years of travelling back and forth between dimensions had certainly outlined a pretty accurate map of the dimension in his mind’s eye. That, and the fact that the Far Frozen trusted him with the Infi-Map now and then also helped. 

But even he had to admit, crossing over to the other side during his first few months as halfa had been terrifying. His past self would never have been able to believe he’d one day be flying around what was on the other side of his parents’ portal like he walked down the halls of Casper High every day of the week for four years. 

Indeed. Getting to see the Ghost Zone for the first time had been even more mind-boggling than getting used to suddenly being able to walk through the walls, disappear, and fly. Compared to Amity Park, his kingdomーhe didn’t think he’d ever get used to calling it thatーwas a haunted house, sponsored by Bill Gates and provided with cutting edge animatronic and holographic technology, and open all year long. 

Well, it would have been sponsored by Bill Gates if it weren’t for Vlad overshadowing him and selling the company to himself years ago. 

Considering he’d rather die (twice) than buy anything belonging to VladCo, Danny found himself being very glad the Ghost Zone was no haunted house, after all. 

Now, however, he’d learned to appreciate the Infinite Realms for what they were; unpredictably beautiful. The once creepy light coming from the floating ectoplasm now reminded him of the groovy vibes one got from a lava lamp. Both substances were, in fact, pretty similar! Since ghosts created their own lairs, he didn’t have to worry over solving any sort of problem related to lack of affordable housing; unlike what he’d have to do had he been, say, mayor of Amity Park? President of the United States? And the repair damages were minimum! Ghosts didn’t usually throw rocks at their own roofs, so battles inside the Ghost Zone were rare. 

Of course, that last one thing was a bit of a double-edged sword. Because it meant that while he didn’t have to worry about the possible destruction of the Ghost Zone, it also meant his subjects usually blew off steam in Amity Park...which then came to bite him in the ass in the form of a very angry mob of ghost-hating citizens.

The joys of living in two parallel dimensions at the same time…

Shaking those thoughts away, Danny refocused his attention on the current task at hand; patrolling the Zone in case anybody chose to ignore his orders and go against the witches during their next visit. 

He’d be lying if he said nobody had warned him of the reaction his plan would most likely get from his subjects, both Frostbite and Clockwork let him know several times, long before he even sent the letter to Lady Arcana. Well, in all fairness, Frostbite had warned him; Clockwork just kept smirking at him with those all-knowing, secretive, red eyes of his. The only real warning he’d got from him was when he asked for his opinion on what’d happen and the Ghost of Time limited himself to raising his eyebrow at him with a, “What do you think?”

When he wanted to be, Clockwork was an invaluable ally and a great mentor. But that was only when he wanted to be, mind you. The rest of the time his smug crypticness was enough to make Danny want to throw himself off of a cliff.

But they’d both been right when they told him his subjects would not react kindly to the presence of witches in their realm. Who would’ve known phantom tomatoes acted just like the Fenton Foamer? If it didn’t put him in immediate danger, he would bring some home for his parents. 

In the end, the only way to convince them to let the witches in was to ensure a powerful ghost would keep an eye on them at all times. Skulker would escort them to his lair, and from then on he’d be watching them himself. 

Even if the spirits had eventually given in to his request, Danny knew better. He’d be a fool to think his advice would be heeded by every single inhabitant of the Ghost Zone. He had far too many enemies for that. 

While most of his adversaries had turned into more of friendly rivals than outright enemies over the years, being capable of having civilised conversations with him whenever they weren’t trying to waste him or enslave Amity Park, there were many others who refused to bow down before a halfa. Ever since Pariah Dark was defeated the first time, ghosts had got used to living in anarchy, being able to do whatever they wanted as long as they were smart enough to not invade a more powerful ghost’s turf. So following some random half-ghost’s orders after centuries of chaos and freedom was out of the question for them. 

On the one hand, many of Danny’s detractors were actually as delusional as the Box Ghost. More often than not, he’d be battling rogue spirits with barely formed physical bodies who were in way over their heads. Normally a few ecto-rays, some quick banter, and a little bit of Fenton Thermos was enough to take care of them. 

But, on the other hand, the few more powerful ghosts who weren’t members of his usual rogue gallery truly sought to dethrone him. If they eliminated him in the process, even better! 

Obviously, the most notorious member of this group was none other than Plasmius. The older halfa had orchestrated Pariah’s return with the intention of defeating him and becoming the next Ghost King himself, after all. And for what? To have his teenage, much less experienced archnemesis steal the crown right under his nose. 

Danny had to admit, if it weren’t for the high price to pay that came with the honour wearing the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire (an ‘honour’ he didn’t even want to have in the first place), he would’ve enjoyed screwing over with the fruitloop like that.

Ever since he became Ghost King, Vlad’s plans had been few and in between. Maybe a few attempts at making his life a living Hell, some shudder-worthy upgrades on his Maddie Programーhe swore, if he had to listen to a hologram of his mother call that demented creep ‘lambchop’ one more time, first, he was going to barf, second, he’d see red, or in his case, greenー, perhaps a few ill-conceived attempts at getting him to join him…

Despite Vlad’s inactivity, however, Danny knew better than to think he was just getting sloppy. Knowing Plasmius and his love for playing chessmaster, he was patiently biding his time. Sooner or later, he’d hear from him, and it wouldn’t be good. 

Still, even if he was his greatest enemy in terms of personal interactions, Vlad wasn’t his most menacing foe in terms of sheer danger. 

Spectra and Bertrand also wanted him gone, due to seeing his intervention as interference with their misery-sucking plans. Indeed, since he became Ghost King Danny was extra careful with who left the Ghost Zone and who was absolutely forbidden from even looking at a portal twice.

For example, knowing Kitty, she’d just want to go out on a date with Johnny, and, on paper, there was nothing wrong with that. Trouble came when Johnny ogled and hit on other girls with his girlfriendーrightーbesideーhim! Honestly, if he were Kitty, he’d pummel Johnny, too. Especially because his actions more often than not resulted in a jealous ghost girl causing mayhem.

The most useful life lesson he’d learned while going through puberty was also one of the firsts: girls were scary. And that seemed to apply to all girls regardless of their species; humans, ghosts, witches, gorillas…

Spectra was no exception. Due to her need for misery to keep herself young and powerful, the shadowy ghost needed to learn how to get under her victims’ skin to exploit their weakness to the point of making them miserable enough to harvest. And, Danny knew from experience, that was far more frightening than any other ghostly power Spectra could ever possess. 

She saw beyond people’s masks, no matter how carefully crafted they were, and got inside your head. Not only did she know your biggest fears and insecurities, but how to exploit them and make them all come true. She forced you to live your worst nightmares over and over, almost as if she were Nocturne's far more malevolent accomplice, reaping your fears like a farmer would reap wheat. 

Spectra threw those insecurities in your face, reminding you that you weren’t good enough, explaining to you why you weren’t good enough, and assuring you would never be good enough; all in that sadistic, cheery tone of voice of hers. Just thinking about it was enough to send chills down his spine.

But what was truly the most daunting thing about Spectra was that, for years, she’d been feeding off of some poor kid’s low self-esteem and personal issues under the pretext of being a psychologist. Her office back in Casper High before he found out the truth and defeated her was full of pictures of her and sickly-looking kids; her previous victims. Dozens of kids who were completely at her mercy because she’d spent years roaming freely around Earth, blending in, long before he was even born, let alone had the accident. Dozens of kids who’d surely been as deeply traumatised as he’d been. Or, even worse, dozens of kids Spectra managed to push over the edge, under the guise of helping them. 

That psychotic old hag and her lap dog had a special place in his black list just for their mere potential of becoming a threat, let alone when they truly were threatening. As a result, one of the things he wasted no time in as soon as he became Ghost King was to ensure they wouldn’t be going back to Earth in a very long time. 

Needless to say, his interference with their ‘feasts’ was enough to have them declare war on him. Well, let them come. He’d be waiting for them.

Another ghost who tended to give him quite a headache whenever he felt like taking his turn at challenging him was the Fright Knight. Back in their first encounter, his first Halloween after gaining his powers, Danny believed he was a formidable foe. Incredibly powerful and hellbent on turning the world into his nightmarish kingdom, the Fright Knight used to be one of his most dangerous adversaries. 

Key word being ‘used to.’ Well, that was two words, but whatever. 

In their next encounter, which, coincidentally, also happened to be when Pariah Dark was released (thanks again, Vlad), the almighty, terrifying, ‘flaming sheets of doom’ Fright Knight had been relegated to errand boy. 

As Danny would soon come to realise, the Ancient Spirit of Halloween was proud, but tremendously cowardly.  

If he believed himself superior to his opponent, he would show no  mercy. But the moment he was one-upped by someone else in terms of power, he’d cower and bow down in submission. Which made their personal relationship with each other all the more interesting. 

In terms of power, Danny knew, maybe a little too smugly, that he had the upper hand. Whereas in their first battle he managed to defeat the Fright Knight just barely, years of ghost-fighting, of developing new powers, and of being in possession of the ring and crown (which he still refused to use unless it was absolutely necessary), had shaped him into a formidable fighter. 

And the Fright Knight knew that, which was why he often avoided conflict with him. 

In terms of respect, however, due to Danny being extremely young compared to other powerful ghosts, the way he ascended the throne and, to add insult to injury, the fact he was half-human, the medieval-like spirit refused to accept him as his ruler. Hence, his rare attempts at taking him down. 

All in all, even if the Fright Knight quite wasn’t the same threat he once was, Danny knew he still should watch out for him. Because for all his self-importance, the Halloween Spirit really was undergod material, and that meant whoever employed him would be much worse than him…

Like Vlad.

Other than Plasmius, Spectra, Bertrand, and the Fright Knight, the other ghosts who challenged his rule were the god-like ones; Undergrowth, Nocturne, Vortex… But they usually kept true to their goals of world domination so it wasn’t much of an issue, in a way. 

While he hadn’t had an encounter with any of his old nemesis for a while, it was all a matter of time before they chose to use his tentative alliance with the witches against him. Which brought him to his current patrol. As he oversaw the vast infinity of the Ghost Zone, steering away from Ghost Writer’s manorーanother lovely fella who didn’t quite like  him, even if he surely wouldn’t try to usurp the throneー, Danny used his vantage point to make sure no suspicious activity was going on. 

Just as he was about to call it a night, his eyes caught sight of three familiar silhouettes standing on top of a drifting chunk of rock not far away from him. Furrowing his eyes in suspicion, he sped up to catch up with them. In a matter of seconds, he’d flown across the distance separating him from his target until he was floating above the unimpressed expressions belonging to Ember McLain, Johnny 13, and Kitty. 

The three of them seemed to be loitering around on top of the aforementioned drifting chunk of rock, looking bored and completely uninterested in anything around them. They almost looked like a bunch of teenagers just hanging out. Kitty was seated, cross-legged, on top of the bike seat, her elbows propped on her knees and her hands cupping her face. Beside her, Johnny was leaning against his bike, arms crossed. A few feet away from them, sitting on a rock with one leg crossed on her other knee, Ember was mindlessly tuning her guitar. That wasn’t suspicious at all...

Over the years, some of his most recurring opponents decided to upgrade their look, like Technusーthe guy was more fashion-oriented than Paulina Sanchez from high schoolー, while others remained mostly the same but with a few added upgrades to their modus operandi, such as Skulker. 

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, depending on how you looked at it, the hunter’s girlfriendーhe had to physically stop his gag reflex from acting up whenever he so much as thought of those two as a coupleーchose to remain true to her signature look. The same flaming, blue ponytail; the same tight, asymmetrical, black outfit; the same haunting green eyes and exaggerated make-up that contrasted greatly with her deathly pale skin… 

All in all, Ember was pretty much the same. Still loud, still vying for attention, still obsessed with leading teenage rebellion through music...And she still had the same awful taste in boyfriends. Although, he supposed, in a way Skulker wasn’t as bad a catch as her best friend’s beau. 

Kitty did change her outfit, albeit slightly. Though she still favored her signature combination of black and red with just a touch of green, she’d abandoned her classical red miniskirt and fishnet stockings for a pair of skin-tight, red leather jeans.  Instead of her mid calf boots, she currently wore a pair of black, ankle boots. She still wore a black tank top, too, only this time it was much looserーjust like she also had the same green pendant. As for her unruly, green hair...she chose to wear it up in two twin buns, fittingly shaped after cat ears, each on either side of her head; with two loose strands framing her face. A pair of fingerless, black biker gloves completed the ensemble.

Everything about her screamed ‘biker chick’, the only thing missing was her own bike.

Maybe, tired of Johnny blowing her off, she’d decided to show him she was as much of a biker as he was, if not more. Or, maybe, she opted to dress that way precisely to remind her boyfriend and everybody else just who was Johnny’s girlfriend. 

Honestly, the girl was sweet (sometimes), but she was a mystery. For all the complaining she did about Johnny, that certainly didn’t stop her from getting a 13 ーhis unlucky numberーtattooed on her right arm.  Danny just wondered if Johnny had a kitten or anything even remotely resembling one tattooed anywhere on his own body. 

...on second thought, he’d rather not think about it.

Johnny himself had changed a little, too, although nowhere near as much or as drastically as his girlfriend. To be honest, he looked exactly the same as always, except for his blond hair now being long enough to be tied in a low ponytailーKitty was right; it was greasyーand foregoing his trademark jacket, opting for just wearing his white undershirt and fingerless gloves, instead. But now that Danny thought about it, didn’t he use to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt, too? Whatever, back in the day  it was hard to tell with his jacket anyway. Other than that, he was the same Johnny 13 who once tried to trick Jazz into becoming a vessel for his girlfriend. 

Suspicion spiking up, Danny floated over towards them, still keeping a respectful distance in case Ember felt like playing a killer riff for his ears only. “What’re you three up to?” He didn’t feel like beating around the bush.

Their heads shooting up at the sound of his voice, the three ghosts looked surprised for less than a second, before adopting the same bored masks again. Though, to be honest, only the girls appeared bored with his presence, Johnny, on the other hand, looked annoyed, his eyes narrowing in distaste on him.

“What do you want, kid?” He spat. 

Danny had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Again with the ‘kid’ treatment. It was always the ‘kid’ treatment. Never mind that he’d been a legal adult for three years now. “I asked you first, Johnny. But since you’re asking so kindly,” he deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. He really didn’t have patience for this anymore, “I’ll repeat myself; what are you three up to?” He repeated, this time sounding more serious. 

The biker ghost answered by letting out a puff of air, vexed. “What, now we can’t even chill in our own home? Are you going to give us a ticket for loitering or something?” He challenged, slowly making his way over to the halfa, trying to appear intimidating. 

He walked calmly, almost calculatingly so, with his face morphed into a wicked grin, one that promised trouble. Once he was close enough to look Phantom in the eye, the two entered a silent staring contest, the tension between them flickering up. Even if the Ghost Kid looked much calmer than Johnny felt, he wouldn’t back down. “Your precious thermos won’t be of any help now.”

Side-glancing their testosterone levels rising from where she was, Kitty let out a huff. Hopping from the biker seat, she squeezed herself in between the two and separated them, both of her hands planted firmly on their chest. “Will you quit it, you two? Nobody’s buying this faux animosity you have going on.”

Knowing they’d been busted, the two jokingly moaned in disappointment, before sharing knowing glances and breaking down laughing. And all the biker girl could do in response was roll her eyes and shake her head, letting her face fall in her hand in exasperation while her boyfriend grabbed Danny by his shoulders and pulled him down, ruffling his snow-white hair with his knuckles. Really, the only difference between grown ass men and children was the size. 

“Careful, dipstick. That techno geek of yours is going to get jealous if you keep flirting with others behind his back.” Ember said, watching everything from her rock with a smirk on her face. 

“FYI, Tucker and I have an open relationship.” The half-ghost wasn’t above blowing a raspberry at her, making her roll her eyes in irritation. He also couldn’t prevent the snickers from escaping his throat at the sight of Kitty painfully elbowing Johnny on the side when he suggested if they could have an open relationship, too.

“With the way you’re constantly hitting on other girls, one’d think we’re already in one.” She pointed out hotly, her fist on her hips. “Besides, we both know you wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing me with other guys.” 

“I can attest to that.” Danny added, remembering not-so-fondly the days he wistfully thought he was dating Paulina when, in truth, he was in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Johnny just rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to play innocent. 

“But now seriously, what are you guys doing?”

“You know, it really is offensive that you see us doing absolutely nothing and your first instinct is to think there’s something going on.” The biker crossed his arms over his chest, displeased. 

“Oh, ignore him.” Kitty told him, putting her hand over the halfa’s shoulder. Even if it’d all been a scheme to make Johnny jealous, Kitty had sort of developed a soft spot for him. As long as he didn’t get in her way, she was one of the less antagonistic ghosts. Danny, in return, often let her and Johnny ‘sightsee’ around Amity Park, as long as they kept themselves out of trouble. “Though we really are doing nothing. Is there a reason why you’d think otherwise, Danny?”

Before the green-eyed boy could come up with a good excuse, Ember’s mocking voice beat him to it. “Oh, please, Kitkat! You should know better than that; he’s obviously got his whities in a twist because of those three harpies that so generously grace us with their presence.” She said in a fake, sugary-sweet voice. Sliding her guitar over her shoulders, the popstar got up from her seat and walked over to the other three. “By the way, shouldn’t they be gone soon? ‘Cause I’d really rather they don’t become regular visitors.”

At the mention of the witches, the easy-going atmosphere immediately tensed up. Just like Ember, Johnny and Kitty were now looking at him, expectantly. It was obvious no ghost appreciated their presence in their dimension. Coughing uncomfortable, Danny rubbed the back of his neck. How did he put this in a way they’d understand? And, most importantly, that wouldn’t encourage them to kill him? “Let’s just say...there’s no expiration date for this.”

“What?!” Growling, Ember’s ponytail flared up, a clear indicator that she wasn’t taking the news well. “What the Hell does that mean, dipstick?”

“Yeah, man! Don’t you know what those rune-reading bitches did the last time we let them near us? What do you mean you don’t know when this’ll be over?!” Johnny demanded, summoning a spectral chain out of thin air. Beside him, Kitty had a hand over her lips. But rather than looking surprised, it was evident she planned to blow his Majesty one of her famous, other-worldly kisses.

Distancing himself from them by rising up once more, his palms up in surrender, Danny tried placating them. That was the problem of having friendly rivals: everything was cool between you until you said something that irked them, then they’d try to destroy without much reservation. “Guys, trust me. I don’t like this any more than you do. But it’s our only choice! Do you seriously want to let the Ghost Zone collapse?!”

That made them settle down. But their glowing, menacing eyes urged him to go on, demanding answers. Sighing, he tried to gather his thoughts. How could he explain to them what he barely understood himself? On their next meeting he was going to demand some answers out of Lady Arcana; no way would he let her hog all the information while he remained in the dark. “Apparently, the witches are a little...rusty, you could say. They’re not as in sync with the portals as they used to be, so the Witch Queen needs to put in the effort to find a solution. That’s why it’s taken us longer than expected to put an end to this”

“And how do you know she’s not lying through her teeth?” Ember questioned in distrust. “That’s what they’re good at; if they need anything out of you, they’ll earn your trust. But the moment they’re done using you, they have no qualms as to what’ll happen to you next.”

“Ember’s got a point.” Kitty agreed. “How do we know they’re not just using us to get something out of us only to ditch us the moment they got whatever that is?” Then, she gasped as a horrible realisation dawned on her. “Even worse...How do we know they aren’t the ones responsible for everything?”

As the three ghosts began chattering and theorising amongst themselves, Danny tried to get their attention back on him. “Guys...Guys, listen...Guys, come on…” Seeing as they wouldn’t be paying attention to him any time soon, he lost his patience. “Would you just listen to me?!”

Satisfied that his abrupt outburst had shut them up, he smirked, before growing wary again. “I understand your concerns, because, honestly, they're mine, too. I know we can’t let our guards down around them; they’re not like the rest of humans. They aren’t a group of ghost hunters with advanced tech, or even more halfas who decided to turn their backs on the Ghost Zone and create their own society. They’re humans that were born with powers; they’re freaks of nature! 

“But they’re also our safest bet right now. The Guys in White are too busy looking for ways to haunt me down or for stores that sell all-white clothes to even know how the ghost portals work. Not to mention, they’re too stupid to realise that destroying our world destroys Earth, too.” He rolled his eyes at that. The only thing worse than a pain in the butt was a useless pain in the butt. “Vlad would demand I pass the throne to him in exchange for his help, and we all know how that’d turn out.” He felt a small sort of satisfaction at their cringing faces. “And no ghost understands the mysterious nature behind the ghost portals. The only beings who’ve ever been able to surpass the lass separating both worlds are the witches; I’m sorry guys, but they’re really our only hope.”

“How do we know we can trust them?” Johnny insisted, not one to back down.

“We don’t.” was Danny’s reply, and he felt more defeated than in any previous fight. 

The three ghosts exchanged glances, a silent conversation going on between them. Out of the three of them, Ember was the most antagonistic; if she really wanted to, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack him. The lovebirds were a different thing entirely. Most of the time Kitty was content just hanging out, and Johnny’s main goal was to please her, for things got ugly whenever his girlfriend wasn’t pleased… Having said that, just like they could act as just another couple of teenagers or young adults (he never really asked for their ages…), they could turn on him in the blink of an eye. 

Dreading their reactions, Danny kept himself aloft. Close enough so they wouldn’t suspect, but far enough so he’d have enough of a head start to get the Hell out of there. 

Finally, the three turned their heads to look at him. The fiery spirit was the one to speak. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Her question sent the snow-white haired boy reeling. What did he plan to do about it? In all honesty, it was a good question. Even if he hadn’t seen Lady Arcana and her kind in actionーbeyond a floating book being shoved in his face, that isー, judging from what had been recorded in the Far Frozen’s archives and Sojourn’s journal, they were to be feared. Danny knew how to deal with rogue spirits and even ghost hunters, since his powers usually provided him with the upper hand, but actual reality warpers whose powers he knew next to nothing about? He wasn’t so sure how he’d fare in a fight against them.

Still, he was nothing if he wasn’t resourceful, and holding their meetings in the Ghost Zone gave him a certain advantage over a group of foreigners. He’d find a way. He had to. “Everything in my power.” He answered truthfully. 

“I see.” Even though Ember didn’t look particularly impressed with his answer, she let it go. Walking over to her previous seat, her friends following her example, she called out to Danny over her shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. “So, anything to report, dipstick? How’s the missus back home?”

“Har har… Very funny, Ember.” The Ghost King replied sardonically. “You know I’m single.”

“Then you’d better watch out for all your rabid fangirls waiting for their chance to claim you as theirs, baby!” The popstar cackled maliciously. “Seriously, they’re like savage beasts! Lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce.” She sighed as her laughter died down, pretending to wipe a tear off the corner of her eye. “Sucks to be you.”

“At least Dash Baxter is not part of my fanclub, unlike some other ghost I know...” He retorted, smugly. His smirk widened at the sight of Ember physically shuddering in disgust. 

“That was low.” She accused, and all she got in response was a noncommittal shrug.

Eying their conversation with increasing interest, Johnny couldn’t help but add his two cents. “Cut her some slack, man. At least Ember isn’t responsible for the dude’s gay awakening.” 

Grinning madly, Ember high-fived him while Kitty rolled her eyes at their antics in amusement, obviously used to them by now. And Danny….Danny didn’t know why he even talked to those guys. Flinching at the implications behind the biker’s jab, he opted to not dignify that with an answer. 

“Can we change the topic to...I don’t know...literally anything else?” He begged. He’d have to bleach his brain to get the image of Dash making a Danny Phantom shrine, not unlike Paulina’s, out of his head. 

Covering her mouth to quiet her chuckles down, Kitty took pity on him. “Guess who’s going to improv classes in her free time?”

Oh, Kitty. Sweet, compassionate, clingy, jealous Kitty. That was why she was his favourite...after Cujo. And Wulf...and after Dora...she was far behind Frostbite, too, that was for sure... Basically, his favourite after any other ghost he officially was on better terms with. But, hey, the intention’s what counts. “You want to be an actress?”

“It’s a nice hobby.” She shrugged before pointing her thumb at her boyfriend, looking unimpressed. “I’ve tried getting Johnny to come with me, but he just won’t budge.”

Danny pretended he didn’t notice the way Johnny, oh so subtly, inched a little further away from her. “Sorry, Babe. You know I love you, but that’s your passion, not mine.”

“And riding bikes is your passion, but at least I’m still there to support you!”

Uh, oh. The classic bike over girlfriend argument...The ghost biker had better come up with a good enough retort or Danny would be stuck trying to do damage control when they took the fight outside. And by ‘outside’ he meant Amity Park. Landing beside him, Danny elbowed the teenager lightly on the ribs. 

At first Johnny just glared at him, but when the halfa returned his glare with a pointed look of his own, he caught his drill. “Don’t be like that, babe! You know I could never replace you. Thing’s just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

There was a twisted irony in the fact that the very same ghost who once tried to replace his girlfriend’s physical form with Jazz’s was the one saying he ‘could never replace her.’ 

Bored with his answer, probably from hearing it a million times already, the green-haired ghost just turned away from him with a huff. “And yet, that doesn’t stop you from trying. Why don’t you ask Shadow for support? I’m sure he’ll rock the miniskirt…”

Noticing Johnny getting frustrated beside him, if the way he curled his hands into fists was any indication, Danny immediately sent a panicked look at Ember, silently asking her for help. The popstar, in turn, just made herself comfortable. She stretched before leaning back on her rock, her arms behind her head. She was clearly enjoying the show a little too much to want it to stop. 

Growing frustrated himself, Danny chose to take matters into his own hands. “I think what Johnny means is that, while you’re a great help and things wouldn’t be the same without you,” he sent a meaningful look the biker’s way, daring him to try and contradict him, “he fears hindering you instead.”

That caught her attention. “Really?”

A quick jab on his side from the halfa was enough to get Johnny talking. “Yeah, totally. I...I already got in between your dream once, Kitten. I’d hate to prevent you from fulfilling it ever again.” He admitted, and the somber way he said those words made Danny realise there was much more behind those improv classes than what meets the eye. Even if it was doubtful he’d ever get a clear confirmation as to what exactly that was, he had a pretty good guess. 

“Oh, Johnny!” Tearing up, a hand on her chest, Kitty threw himself at her boyfriend’s arms. “I love you. And I don’t blame you for anything, you know that, right?”

He sent her a small smile. “Just because you don’t blame me doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven myself, Kitten.” 

The red-eyed girl felt like tearing up all over again, but for completely different reasons. Deep down, she knew it’d be a long time before she convinced Johnny he wasn’t responsible for what happened, if ever. But for now, she was happy just touching his forehead with hers, showing him she’d always be there. 

Coming to stand besides Ember, a content smile on his face, Danny just watched the couple. The popstar, on the contrary, didn’t look as pleased. “You just had to help them reconcile, didn’t you? You couldn’t let me have my fun.”

“Isn’t she your best friend?” He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. “Don’t you care enough about her to want her to be happy?”

“I care more about her than you’ll ever know, dipstick.” Her voice was laced with venom, as if warning him to not overstep his boundaries, and...something else Danny couldn’t quite decipher. 

The few times he’d seen the two girls interact, like when they haunted Amity Park just for kicks rather than some evil agenda, Danny would get the distinct feeling that there was some sort of thing going on between them. And, he had to admit, with the way their boyfriends regularly got on their nerves, Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the two decided to be each other’s Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy and eloped. 

But then...there were moments like this. Moments where Kitty would look truly happy in Johnny’s arms, almost as if they never fought. And Johnny? Johnny looked at her like she was the most wonderful thing that's ever happened in his after-life. And she probably was. 

Whatever happened to them, it was obvious it interlinked their obsessions with each other. And given ghosts’ complicated natures, it was unlikely they’d ever leave each other’s side. Which meant whatever feelings Ember harbored, they most likely would never be reciprocated. He wondered if Skulker knew…

After what felt like an eternity to their viewers and a few measly seconds to the couple, Ember chose to continue the conversation where they’d left it, in hopes of finally breaking the ‘cute couple’ apart. “So, how’re your classes going, Kitty?”

She also chose to ignore the dipstick’s disapproving look. 

“Wha…Oh! My classes. Yeah...” She remembered; her question bringing her back from Wonderland. She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her head and her stomach from the little butterflies only Johnny could cause her. “Most of the time it’s cool, but sometimes it’s just…” She made a face, as if that explained everything.

Danny tilted his head to the side. “How come?”

“She says the teacher’s instructions are wild.” Johnny supplied, coming to wrap his arm around her waist.

“The other day, for example,” she started, leaning closer to her boyfriend in a manner that looked almost unconscious, “he told me, ‘try to act like you care, only to don’t care at all,’” she mimicked, lowering her usual pitch to a much deeper voice, “and I was like, ‘okay...?’”

While her two friends exchanged agreements on how weird the directions were, Danny’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so like in high school!”

The three of them just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You know, high school. The epitome of acting like you care when you really don’t care.”

Now, instead of looking at him like he’d grown a second headーsomething he’d actually done when trying to learn to duplicate himself, as a matter of factーthey were simultaneously staring at him and exchanging nervous glances among them. The same way a group of friends would do during an intervention. It was Johnny who broke the ice. “Yeah…” He said slowly. “I don’t think that applies.”

“‘Course it does!” Danny insisted, throwing a hand in the air as if that would validate his point, the other resting on his hip. “Think about it, in high school you’re expected to care about your marks, your extracurricular activities, hanging out with the right group...But deep down you don’t give a fuck about school and all you wanna do is stay at home playing video games, chatting with your friends, eating junk food…”

There was a beat of silence. But whereas the ghost couple wondered just how traumatic his high school experience had been, the popstar looked contemplative, a finger on her chin. “...he has a point.” She said, and now Kitty and Johnny were looking at her like she needed medical help. “Take it from me, the personification of teenage rebellion. My powers would be useless if teens actually cared about their education.”

“Hm, I guess that makes sense?” Kitty conceded. “Alright, so I gotta act like a kid in high school. Got it. Thanks, Danny!” She smiled brightly at him. 

“Don’t mention it.” He waved it off. 

“Speaking of high school…” Ember trailed off, and the almost predatory look on her face was enough to make Danny want to flee right there and then. “Has the great Ghost King found himself a queen yet? I know you said earlier that you’re single but, c’mon. That can’t be right. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure your last girlfriend’s that Red Huntress chick you used to date in sophomore year.”

“Dude, you haven’t had a girlfriend since high school?!” Johnny looked both personally affronted and astonished at the revelation. “Are you gay?” 

Luckily for him, Danny wouldn’t have to blast him with an ecto-ray; Kitty already took care of it. “Johnny! Have you learned nothing from Mean Girls? You can’t just ask people if they’re gay!”

“Pretty sure the actual line was ‘you can’t just ask people why they’re white.’” Ember pointed out. 

“Oh, that’s right. Anyway, doesn’t matter. It was uncalled for.” Then she lay her concerned, red eyes on the halfa and he couldn’t help but gulp loudly. He knew that look. He dreaded that look. It was the concerned-older-sister-looking-out-for-her-baby-brother look. Jazz had put a patent on it long ago. “Is something wrong, though? Several years without a girlfriend is a little bit unusualー”

“And worrying.” Johnny added. 

“ーfor a young man. Do you want to talk about it? Or, even  better, how about I organise you a blind date, hm? I’m sure we’ll find you a nice girl in no time!”

Could there be anything worse than ghosts concerning themselves over his love life? “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He said flatly. 

Ember just looked at him like he was crazy. “Um, hello? For better or worse you are our king, dipstick. How do you plan on continuing the bloodline without even a girlfriend?”

“I could just have Vlad make me some clones…” He mumbled to himself. It was meant as a joke, but the mere thought of letting that fruitloop anywhere near his DNA was enough to send chills running down his spine. 

Not hearing the halfa’s poor attempt to joke, Johnny snorted in response to Ember’s answer. Shaking his head as he walked over to Danny, his thumbs hitched at the hem of his pants, the biker draped an arm over the halfa’s shoulders in an almost brotherly fashion. “Cut it out, Ember.” He chided with no real malice, before focusing on Danny. “Don’t listen to her, dude. She’s only asking ‘cause she thinks getting laid will help you blow off some steam, enough so you get off our backs for a while.”

“Johnny!” Kitty scolded him, feeling sorry for Danny.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Actually, he is.” The popstar admitted. “Saw right through me.”

His face flushing green, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This could not be happening. First, they try to butt in on his love life, and now they comment of his sex life?! Somebody put him out of his misery… 

“Again, I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He groaned in dismay. He could only thank his lucky stars Sam wasn’t there to witness such humiliation. Wait a minute...Sam? Where did that come from?

As he battled with his thoughts, he’d have preferred it if his enhanced senses hadn’t caught Ember leaning close to whisper to Kitty in her ear, “Dipstick’s got no action in weeks, I tell you.”

That was it. “Okay!” He exclaimed, a little too loudly, as he clasped his hands together with a forced, cheerful grin on his face. “As lovely as catching up with you guys has beenーit was great, reallyー, I really ought to keep on patrolling. Ugh, the busy life of the ruler of the Ghost Zone. See ya!” He waved them goodbye as he took off in the direction he came from, drifting away from them. 

Before he was out of earshot, though, Ember shouted after him. “While you’re at it try to find yourself a girlfriend!” Then, she mimicked putting something on her ring finger before singing at the top of her lungs. “If you like it, put a ring on it!”

As they cackled at his expense, Danny stopped mid-air. Like he’d ever let her have the last laugh… He cupped a hand around his mouth, calling out to her, “I’m surprised you’re not egomaniac enough to only reference your own songs!”

In an instant, all traces of amusement on the popstar’s face were gone, replaced by irritation. “Fuck you!” She flipped the bird at him, while her two companions now laughed their asses off at her expense. 

Meeting her rude gesture with a mock salute and a cheeky grin, Danny turned around, flying away at top speed. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by a group of dimwits, he was alone with his thoughts. 

More specifically, he was alone with the thought of Sam. 

He really didn’t understand how her memory had popped up out of nowhere, let alone why it’d popped up right when they were discussing his love life, or lack thereof. Not that long ago, the face that would’ve made an entrance would’ve been Valerie’s. Not because he still had feelings for her, although he’d admit getting over her took him a while, but because she’d been the only girl he’d ever had a long-term relationship with. 

Okay, maybe saying ‘long-term’ was exaggerating a bit. They began a tentative relationship that lasted all throughout the astounding amount of three different dates, several shared lunch periods, and two weeks. 

But seeing as any subsequent attempt at dating someone new either ended in one-night stands, if he was lucky, or in half-finished dates after which the girls would tell him not to bother trying to call them, and that wasn’t even the worst outcome possibleーsometimes he’d been forced to stand them up altogether because of a sudden ghost attackー; he could safely affirm his time with Valerie was his longest dating experience. 

And it didn’t even count as dating because she broke things off before they agreed on going steady. Oh, joy…

So, really, even if his feelings for Valerie had long faded, there was still that feeling of familiarity bringing him comfort. 

But that still didn’t explain why he’d think of Sam of all people! Sure, they got along fine and they’d seen each other a few times already (last time at the restaurant they didn’t even need Tucker), but there was no sense of familiarity! They were friendly acquaintances, and no more. 

So Sam was funny, and smart, and probably the sassiest girl he’d ever met. Sure, her wits and snark were enough to put some of his most punny opponents to shame, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t run out of puns to make during a fightーsomething even he struggled withー, not like she was the kind to make puns, anyway. And that fire that would light up in her eyes whenever she spoke about doing what’s right, and animal rightsーbecause, really, could anyone react more adorably to a Purple Back Gorilla?ー, and the occult... Or the way she stood her ground because she knew who she was and she was so confident in the person she’d grown up to be!

...So what if he needed someone like that in his life back in high school? He couldn’t change the past!

Sam was probably one of the most amazing people he’d ever met, but that didn’t mean anything. Guys could admire girls without having feelings for them or wanting to get inside their pants, now, couldn’t they? If Sam were there, in fact, she’d point out they actually should be able to admire girls with no ulterior motive. 

Danny did a double-take, changing course when he was a minute shy of crashing against someone’s door. Sighing in relief as he wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, he felt like smacking himself. Again with Sam! There was nothing going on between him and Sam!

Just because he thought she was cool it didn’t mean he was crushing on her or looking for ways to get into her bed. Speaking of...he also had the distinctive feeling she would pummel him to the ground if he so much as thought about it. He liked the feeling of breathing without wincing because one of his ribs was piercing his lung, thank you very much. 

Besides, no matter how awesome Sam was, she just wasn’t his type. A guilty part of Danny had to admit, aside from his amazon chasing tendencies (thanks again, Dad), he had a soft spot for preppy girls. His first ever crush was Paulina Sanchez, Casper High’s queen bee and cheerleading captain from freshman to senior year. Even Valerie, despite losing her wealth over the Cujo accident, stayed true to her style from back when she was still popular, just...without the brand clothes. 

Sam was not preppy. 

He guessed that was a factor in how shocking it’d been to find out she, as a matter of fact, came from a rich family. With all the dough Jazz had later told him her family had, Sam could afford to use new shoes every single day and then throw them all into the trash when she came back home. 

But she didn’t. 

Instead, she preferred to buy her clothes from second-hand stores and add her personal touch later on, knowing the money would go to different humane organisations, or to buy them from independent stores. 

“Those are a bit expensive.” she explained the last time he and Tucker met up with her at the You Mocha Me Crazy. “But the clothes are high quality and tailor-made, so it’s worth it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. That was Sam; always grounded and level-headed, with the greater good in mind. 

On second thought, it was unfair of him to judge Sam just because she wasn’t preppy. Sure, she wasn’t his type, but she was still beautiful. How could she not be? With her sleek, black hair that looked so smooth it could put velvet to shame. Or those hazel eyes of hers that were a crystal clear reflection of her soul, full of emotion and mystery. Or her soft, plumb lips, always accentuated by her unusual purple lipstick, drawing your attention to them, almost begging you to kiss them…

The image sent him reeling, almost shooting through the eerie, ectoplasmic abyss of the Ghost Zone before he forced himself to come to a sudden halt. He could hear his heart frantically pounding in his ears.

WHOAH!

Where did that come from?!

Danny took a moment to steady his breath, using his hands to scrub his face. What was he thinking? Just like he had to tell Jazz over a hundred times in the drive back home from the restaurant, Sam was just a girl he knew. A pretty awesome girl, but just a girl. 

Even if she were more than that, which she wasn’t, his life was too hectic to involve anyone else. Especially not someone who could be used as leverage against him. There would never be anything more between them. The sooner everyone accepted his life was too complicated to have a normal relationship, the better. 

As Danny finally flew back to his lair, he did his best to ignore the way his heart was still fluttering in his chest.

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

They were back to square one.

Just like the last time, Danny had guided Lady Arcana and her entourage deep inside his lair until they reached the Council Room doors. Her Majesty’s two witches kept guard at both sides of the door alongside two of his own guards, while the two royals went inside to discuss. They were still far away but in front of each other, the same old large wooden table separating them. And Lady Arcana looked like she wanted to dissect him with her own hands while he was finding the sweet release of permanent death all the more appealing. 

 Why was it that progress never lasted with this woman?

Sitting down as regally as possible on her chair, Lady Arcana once again materialised a book seemingly out of nowhere. Only, this time, Danny noticed it was even more beautifully crafted than the last one. “I managed to bring this grimoire with me.” That must’ve been the first time she initiated a conversation. “Hopefully, it’ll have the answers we’re looking for.” Without warning, her violet eyes narrowed to slits, looking at him with as much venom as she could muster. “This is your only warning, if anything happens to this book while it’s in your territory, prepare to face the consequences.”

He’d heard of treating books with respect (mostly from Jazz), but this was ridiculous! “Wow, it must be a really important book. What is it, signed by the author?”

Sam fumed at his pathetic excuse of a joke. Great, like she didn’t hear enough terrible one-liners from hanging out with Tucker. Difference being, she actually liked hanging out with Tucker. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

That took him aback. “Wait, it’s got its author’s autograph? Really?”

She stopped leafing through the grimoire’s pages for a moment to meet his incredulous look. “Of course not! I mean it’s really important!” Bringing the book close to her face, she sneered. “What, is the crown so heavy it turns your brain to mush?”

“Oh, it’s heavier than you could possibly imagine…” Danny muttered through gritted teeth, mostly to himself. As if the Witch Queen didn’t know that already. The dark energy radiating from both the crown and the ring was pure torture, and enduring it a job made for Hercules himself. He was about to retort with a comeback of his own, when his eyes focused on the book’s cover, more specifically, on the golden letters making up its title:

Lady Arcana’s Grimoire

A spike of suspicion bubbling within him, the halfa wasted no time in pointing out his discovery, daring her to contradict him. “If you’re so smart to have a spellbook under your name, then how come you claim you don’t know how to solve the portal problem?” 

If she thought she could just trick him like that, she got another thing coming. So what if she was the leader of a group of conniving spellcasters? He’d been fighting toe to toe with Vlad, the biggest, most manipulative bastard he’d ever met, since he was fourteen. Exposing her evil plans would be child’s play. 

Slowly putting the book down, Sam looked at Phantom with what she was sure was the most dumbfounded expression she’d ever had. What was he talking about? “Excuse me?”

The green-eyed ghost edged around the table, getting close to her at a tauntingly slow pace. Maddening slow. When he was finally by her side, he got so close she couldn’t help but flinch back. “Oh, you know. Just wondering if perhaps you’re not taking me for a fool and pretending to help just so you and your witches can buy your time and attack us.” He got in her face, his neon green gaze so intense it almost burned. “Hm, Lady Arcana?”

For a minute, Sam just stood there, without moving an inch from her seat. Not understanding his sudden animosity. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t tension in the air whenever the two met up, but most of the time Phantom acted cheeky around her, taunting her with his cocky attitude, as if gauging her reaction and trying to figure out when he’d get a reaction out of her. At most, he’d seem annoyed or resigned when working with her. 

But this?

This cold treatment that translated itself into a literal drop in temperature in the room around her? His cool, accusing voice that made shivers run down her spine and the fire of aggravation light up in her heart? The way he looked at her like she was naked in front of him, and not in a lustful way, but in a way that made her feel like he could see right through her?

This was new, and she couldn’t say she liked it. 

A dark scowl making its way to her face, the young sorceress spat. “What are you getting at?”

Danny was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, his smile more dangerous than the countless beasts lurking on the Ghost Zone’s most remote corners. “I’d suggest you undo whatever it is that your kind did to the portals, because let me tell you, I will not go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” He growled in a menacingly low tone. 

Sam could only gasp in astonishment. But the feeling didn’t last long, soon being replaced with outrage. How dare he? Who did he think he was to accuse her and her people of putting their own lives in danger?! And all for what? To get back at a group of bodiless puppets? He had a lot of nerve.

“Listen up here, you jackー!”

“Uh, uh, uh!” Phantom cut her off with a sing-song voice, a scolding finger raised up and wagging right in front of her face. “A queen shouldn’t cuss like that, your Majesty. It’s not beckoning.”

The purple-eyed witch clutched the table with her hands so tightly, she could hear it splinting under her digits. But she didn’t care. He was taunting her, waiting for her to make the first move so he wouldn’t be accused of attempting against the life of the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. After all, the punishment was different if an attack was in self-defence, wasn’t it?

She was about to make a mistake when his cocky voice distracted her. “I’m waiting, Lady Arcana.”

Again with the sarcastic tone. Why did her name have to do with any of this?! First he said whatever nonsense of having her own book, which was absolutely ridiculous because she was an avid reader, not a writer. Then he got impossibly close and had the nerve to mock her title, right before accusing her of causing the rifts, and now…

Now it hit her. 

To Danny’s immense surprise, instead of retaliating, Lady Arcana limited herself to picking her precious book back up, her irate expression morphing itself into bored disbelief. “When you said I have my own book, did you mean this?”

“Considering it’s the only one with your name on it, then yes. That’s the one.” He deadpanned. What was she up to?

His eyebrows shot up to the ceiling when she sighed, looking beyond done with the entire situation. “If you must know, I’m not the Lady Arcana who wrote this book. She died centuries before I was even born. This grimoire,” she did the unthinkable and handed it to him, “is sort of her research journal. Everything she learned about magic during her time, it’s there. And since our respective species didn’t part ways until long after her death, it should have the answer to the portals as well.”

Listening to her explanation, he glanced down at the book in his hands. Gingerly skimming the pages, for he knew the witch would do well in her previous promise, Danny eyed its contents. Aside from the numerous runes he couldn’t understand and the mysterious drawings he didn’t know how to interpret, it was obvious that in spite of the book’s pristine condition, it had seen better days. The pages were yellowish and rough to the touch, their edges worn-out. And even if one could still make out the symbols, the ink was very washed-out. 

In short, there was no way this book belonged to the woman in front of him. 

Averting his eyes, he handed it back to get before floating over his own seat and flopping down on it. Ashamed by his actions, though not entirely convinced of the witches' innocence, he slumped down in his chair, refusing to meet her scrutinising, violet eyes.

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not having it. “Will you now stop talking about things you know nothing about?”

“I would if you at least let me know something!” He sulked, and Sam couldn’t believe to save her life that a ghost could actually act so childishly.

“Do you have the slightest idea of how frustrating it is to be at a disadvantage?” he went on. “You know what ghosts are capable of, you see them all the time on the news!” Okay, that was a wild guess, but it helped his case. “But I know next to nothing about you, and you refuse to even the ground. So excuse me for thinking you might be responsible for our current crisis because I see your name on a book that’s supposed to put an end to said crisis!”

When a few minutes went by and Lady Arcana still said nothing, he got worried. Either he’d crossed a line and ruined any chance of working together with her in the future, or he’d crossed a line and she was silently cursing him. A morbid part of him wondered if being turned into a frog would be easier than being half-ghost. Both predicaments had something in common; he could end up at someone’s dissection table. 

Then, the most unexpected thing happened. “You’re right.”

Danny was so astounded he shot forward from his chair, eyes wide. “Come again?”

The halfa resented the way she rolled her eyes at him. It was a legitimate question! “I said, ‘you’re right.’” She said, leaning forward and trying to meet his eye. She was finding it increasingly more difficult, and Sam had to wonder if it was due to his previous outburst or her own shame. “We’re both sticking our necks here, working with each other. My people might be secretive, but the least I could do is even the ground, as you say.”

Even if, ideally, Phantom was the last person Sam wanted to be honest with, having to lie to so many people in her life was taking its toll on her. And she figured, as much as she hated it, he had a point. It was hard trusting someone when they always kept you in the dark. Her own experiences with Wilhelmina proved that. 

But she had to make some things clear, first. “Before I tell you anything, however,” a small, amused smile appeared on her face when she saw him deflate, “I gotta lay out a few ground rules.”

Phantom sighed. “Fine. State your terms.”

“You can ask me whatever you want, and I will tell you as much as I can, but there are things I simply cannot divulge. You must respect that. Got it?” 

Knowing that deal could easily become a double-edged sword, against his better judgement, Danny nodded. “Got it.”

“Very well.” She leaned back on her chair, her back straight and fingers firmly clasped together on top of the table. “What do you want to know?”

The halfa didn’t even have to think of his question; it’d been plaguing his mind since he first met her. “How does your magic work?”

Well, that much she could answer. The young queen couldn’t help but see the irony in the way she was about to willingly disclose the very same information she’d viciously guarded from Danny to the Ghost King. “What you call ‘magic’ is the art of learning to control and manipulate one’s anima at will.”

“Anima?” Phantom tilted his head to the side. Sam couldn’t help but think he looked like a ghost puppy. 

She nodded as she raised one hand to her eye-level, palm up. With a snap of her fingers, the same sparkly, purple mist he remembered from the floating book accident surrounded her hand. He could only look on, stunned. “Our essence.” Lady Arcana explained, mindlessly playing with the mystical energy, watching as it slipped through her fingers like water. “Believe it or not, everyone has an anima, not just witches. The only difference is that we know how to tap into and summon it.”

“So is it like my ecto-energy?”

“In a way. There is a difference, though.”

“Which is?” He urged her, but she just shook her head. 

Danny was beginning to think that was one of the things she’d refuse to share with him when she clarified. “As with the portals, that knowledge was forgotten long ago. We don’t know what makes our essences different; we just know they are.”

“And what about the spells?” Ever since Sam cryptically told him about them, Danny’d been racking his mind for answers, trying to put two and two together. But he always came out empty-handed. He just hoped Lady Arcana had the answers. 

She sighed, and once again the halfa feared he wouldn’t get his answer after all, but once more she surprised him. “They’re intrinsically linked to our culture.” He couldn’t help but flinch when she sent him a meaningful look. “They’re also the reason why I call myself Lady Arcana...when that’s not my name.” She admitted quietly. 

Understanding the best he could do was give her time, Danny leaned forward, resting his chin on his intertwined hands that were propped on the table in front of him. He waited with bated breath for her to speak. “To do magic, you have to know the secrets of the universe.”

“The secrets of the universe?” He repeated, eyes wide. 

She nodded, pointing at her hand, the one radiating energy. “There is a secret language; the one the universe was created and communicates with. To do magic you need two things: to be in sync with your anima, and to know that secret language so you can get the results you want. Every spell we make we cast it by calling the secret name of whatever we set our minds to. Because of this system, in our culture names give you power. That’s why I go by Lady Arcana, because if anyone were to know my real name, it’d give them power over me.”

Danny had to force his mouth shut at her words. So witches were in tune with the universe on a whole different level than most people. A part of him couldn’t help but point out the similarities between the two, for if people were to find out his secret, he’d be completely at their mercy. Vlad had certainly used his secret against him in the past, the only way it didn’t do more damage than necessary was because he also knew his and could counter attack. 

A part of him wished he could ask her the true questions plaguing his mind. Mostly, why? Why did her people sell ghosts out like that? Why did they choose ruining a centuries-long alliance was worth it? Why did they refuse to acknowledge the damage they’d done?!

Just why?

But the sharper part of him, the one who usually took charge of things when coming up with puns or ghost-fighting, knew that question would most likely go unanswered. And at worst it’d bring back the tension their, surprisingly, civil conversation had dissipated. So instead he chose to be the polite young man his parents raised. 

“Thank you for coming clean to me, my lady. I…I understand it must’ve been difficult.” He tried to channel his best intentions through his grateful grin. 

For a minute Sam just stared at the ghost in front of her, speechless. She had to admit, Phantom had proved he could be mature, albeit usually after enough jabs and pointless arguing, so it shouldn’t have come out as such a surprise that now he seemed genuinely grateful for her honesty. And yet, the sincerity in his glowing, green eyes, and the kindness radiating from his smile were enough to make her heart flutter, touched. The way he looked at her made him seem almost completely harmless, friendly, and caring.

It made him seem like Danny. 

The past few days, after unexpectedly running into him in Verde Que te Quiero Verde, her mind always went back to him. A nice, warm feeling would bubble deep within her whenever she thought of his unruly, black hair, or his deep, baby blue eyes, or just his general kindness and alertness to the way other people feel… Sam would feel her face heat up whenever she remembered she still had his hoodie; or when she’d admit to herself that she didn’t know if she could ever give it back. 

As nice as the feeling was, it certainly didn’t help when it clouded her judgement when she was carrying out her duties. Such as that very moment. 

What was she thinking, comparing Danny Phantom to Danny Fenton?! They couldn’t be more different! Danny’s voice was rich and soothing, while Phantom’s had a certain echo that reminded everyone of his current state of being. Danny had absolutely no interest in following in his parents’ footsteps; he dreamed of being an astronaut and the Fentons had often neglected him and his sister in favour of ghost-hunting. Phantom was both a ghost hunter himself and the very ghost Danny’s parents were after!

And most importantly, Sam could actually put up with Danny’s presence, whereas she’d more than once wondered if spirits could be strangled. 

While she appreciated the Ghost King’s bout of friendliness, she’d have to remind herself that he and Danny were two entirely different people. But for now, it wouldn’t hurt to show some gratitude in return. “Thank you for listening and respecting my request, Phantom.” She smiled back. 

The king shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “It’s the least I could do. Hey, if you have any questions of your own, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam was about to thank him for his offer but decline anyway when she changed her mind, an idea materialising in her head. Using her two hands for support to get up from her chair, she walked around the wooden table between them and towards her host. She didn’t stop until she was almost within touching distance. 

Propping herself up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, in the most relaxed position Danny had seen her, she spoke. “If I ask a favour of you, will you grant it?”

“Depending on what you ask.” He replied truthfully.

She guessed that was fair enough. Unfolding her arms, she used one hand to point at him. “Please, refrain yourself from wearing...” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing to the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, “that during our meetings.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. The only reason he wore the dreaded things in the first place was to keep her and her guards in line. If it meant not being vulnerable around them, he was willing to endure their torment. “You see, I wear these to show my very special guests just how seriously I take their visit,” Danny started, his voice dripping in sarcasm, before turning more serious with a menacing glare, his eyes glowing bright. “How do I know you won’t double-cross me the moment I take them off?”

Sam didn’t like the way this conversation suddenly turned from civil, to accusing. Again. “How do I know you won’t use them to double-cross me?”

“I believe I asked you first.” 

Growing irritated, Sam clutched at her skin. “Simple; I’m not the one wearing that.”

There was a reason purple-eyed witches such as herself or Grandma Ida were so respected in their society; only they could resist the darkness their people so feared. And the dark forces radiating from the Ghost King’s crown and ring? They were vile. The age of eternal blackness, pain, and suffering they promised were enough to make her hairs stand on end. Therefore, seeing Phantom wield them so nonchalantly was a clear indicator that he was not to be trifled with. 

Not uttering a word, Phantom got up from his chair and made his way to her. Sam had to fight the urge to flinch away from him in fright when he stood, imposing, in front of her. “Funny.” He said with a hint of sick amusement in his voice. “It was a gift from your kind.”

Sam could only gasp at his words, a hand to her chest and her feet unconsciously taking a few steps back. However, before she could fully register his words and react accordingly, the ground at her feet started moving, unprompted. Her body involuntarily swaying from the sudden tremors, she tried to keep her balance by hopelessly flailing her arms, in search of support. 

But her efforts proved themselves fruitless when another, stronger, jolt tossed her down to the ground with a low thud. The only reason she even registered she’d fallen was the sudden change in perspective; Phantom, who, seemingly on instinct, had risen up in the air the moment the room shook, went from being in front of her to horizontal. 

“What’s going on?” She choked out, too disoriented to even stand. 

Noticing the turmoil in her voice, their previous conversation forgotten in favour of the current events, Danny was by her side in an instant, gently helping her up. This could only mean one thing. “Uh, no…”

“‘Uh, no?’” Lady Arcana asked, holding onto his arm for dear life. “‘Uh, no’ what?”

Before Danny could so much as offer an answer a distinct cry in a language he didn’t understand could be heard from the other side of the door. In the blink of an eye, a gust of bright yellow wind came crashing through the door, reducing it to smithereens. What was truly unbelievable, however, was the way the wind seemed to have solidified with the intention of bursting the doors open. 

Fast as lightning, Lady Arcana’s trusty companions rushed into the room, looking for their queen. The teenagerーSusan, Danny believedーwasted no time checking over her leader. “Your Majesty, are you okay?!” As she asked, her bespectacled partner slid beside their queen, offering her to lean into her for support. “We were guarding the doors when suddenly the lair started trembling!”

“I’m fine, Susan. Stand down.” She reassured her. “Are you guys alright?”

“Affirmative, your Majesty.” The strawberry blonde one answered, adjusting her glasses with her free hand, the other still holding Lady Arcana by her waist. “But I believe we should leave immediately, whatever it is that’s going on, it’s not safe!”

“What is going on, anyway?” Susan hissed, clearly suspecting of the ghosts’ ulterior motives. 

To Sam’s surprise, Phantom actually looked sheepish. He was fidgeting with his gloved fingers with an awkward smile on his face. “This may or may not be my fault…”

The dark-haired queen was in no mood for half-assed answers like that. “Explain.” She gritted out. 

“I seem to have forgotten to take care of the latest black hole forming before it reached its mature state.” He admitted. 

There was  a moment of silence where one could've heard a pin drop, until Sam screeched at the top of her lungs, “You what?! How do you forget to take care of a fucking black hole!?”

“What did I tell you about swearing?” He tried to joke, but the scorching glare he received from her in return made him gulp. “I know, I know. I really meant to take care of everything sooner, but things kept popping up and getting in the way. But don’t worry, I’ll fix this.”

“How?” Susan asked, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes glaring daggers at him. 

“That...I don’t know.” He admitted, looking positively sick to his stomach. “I’ve never had to take care of a black hole in this state. But don’t worry, you three can go back home. I’ll manage; I always do.”

An impending sense of doom made Sam’s stomach churn. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling Phantom wouldn’t make it if he tried to take care of the problem by himself.

And so, with a heavy heart, she turned to her witches, getting out of Stephanie’s well-meaning but suffocating grasp. “You two go back home, I’ll stay here and help him.”

“What?!” The two screamed in unison, and Sam could feel a bewildered Phantom looking at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind. She probably had. 

Lo and behold, he was right there, agreeing with them. “‘What’ is right. You can’t stay here; your people need you!”

“King Phantom’s right, your Majesty.” Stephanie tried to reason. “What will become of the clan without you?”

“It’ll be madness!” Susan squeaked, looking scared for once in her life. “If anything, we should stay to ensure your safety!”

Touched beyond belief by their loyalty and devotion, Sam gently grasped their hands in hers. She tried to convey as much calmness as possible through her smile. “One way or another, the clan will find a way to revive from its ashes, even without me. That’s the way it’s always been. But I can’t live with myself knowing I stole two children from their families, and so, I must let you go.”

“B-but...your Majesty!” Susan whimpered, tears in her eyes. 

Before she’d have a change of heart, the queen turned to the older witch. “Stephanie, you’re the better spellcaster. Take Susan with you and back to the clan.” Then she turned around and picked the grimoire up in her hands before passing it to her. “And take this with you. We can’t afford anything happening to it.”

“But what about you?!”

“I will do everything in my power to return to you.” She swore solemnly. 

With a sad nod, Stephanie let go of her queen’s hand and took the younger sorceress with her. With a finger high in the sky, she cried out, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt!” 

In a flash of forest green light, they were gone. 

Now that they were alone (for Walker’s goons had returned to their boss the moment the shaking began), Danny turned to the Witch Queen. “What’s your angle?”

“I want to help you.” She said, never taking her eyes off of his. 

“But what about your people?” He pressed. “Isn’t protecting them your top priority?”

“If what little I know of black holes and your world doesn’t fail me, letting one loose would mean the end of everything we know and love. So I am protecting my people.”

He couldn’t argue against that logic. 

The moment was broken by the unanticipated feeling of being pulled towards an unknown direction. Noticing Lady Arcana staggering clumsily on her feet, Danny rushed to grab her by the shoulders in an attempt to steady her. Immediately, her own hands were grabbing firmly onto his.

As stable as his lair was, staying inside during a black hole would be dangerous and extremely foolish. Unfortunately, there was no time to explain. “My Lady, what I’m about to do might seem a bit crazy, but I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

“What are youー?”

“Can you trust me?” He insisted, his bright, green eyes begging. 

Under any other circumstances her answer would’ve been a definite ‘no.’ Phantom was a ghost and she was a witch. Her people had been foolish enough to trust them once and it cost them dearly. But at that moment, right then and there, against her better judgement, she did. When he looked at her like his life depended on her, she couldn’t deny him anything. Somehow, that terrified her more than the black hole.

“I do.” She breathed. “I trust you.”

One moment, he smiled at her so brightly Sam feared he might blind her. And on the other, he pushed her away from him, shoving her roughly to the stone wall. Fearing the worst, Sam braced herself for an impact that never came. Instead all she could feel was a tingling sensation coursing through her body before she landed on the dirt with a loud thud, but not hard enough to really hurt her. 

When she opened her eyes, she was stunned to see she was outside of the lair’s confines, completely unscathed. How did she…? Her thoughts were put to a halt when she caught something from the corner of her eye that made her blood run cold, as well as her mouth drop in astonishment. 

In front of her, in the middle of the infinite ectoplasmic ocean of the Ghost Zone, stood a ginormous swirl of never-ending blackness, engulfing everything within range. As she stood there, agape, the celestial body’s natural pull began to draw her in. Burying her heels in the ground, desperately clutching at the building’s walls for support, she suddenly felt a hand around her wrist, yanking at her in the opposite direction. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw Phantom’s staring right back. “Don’t let go!” He instructed with a strained voice. He was using every bit of strength he had to fly them both in the opposite direction. 

“How do we stop this?!” She cried out, holding onto him for dear life. 

“I’m not sure!” He called back, his own hold on her never loosening. “As I said, I’ve never had to take care of a black hole under these conditions! The universe wouldn’t happen to have a code word for stopping this sort of thing, would it?”

She could only shake her head. “If it does, I don’t know what it is!”  Oh, that was just great. The one time she needed her magic the most, and not only didn’t she have the answers, but she didn’t even know enough on the subject to find a mundane solution to it. If only Danny were there, he’d know what to do. “Ugh, why didn’t I pay more attention when we talked about Astrophysics!?”

At her words, a lightbulb lit up in Danny’s head. Astrophysics, duh! How could he have been so dense to forget his own area of expertise! All he needed to do was find a way to apply what he knew into a situation with a considerably smaller amount of money involved. To be more specific, he had about $3,75 in his pocket. As he struggled to keep both Lady Arcana and him safe, he kept looking at the black hole, studying its form and comparing it to every single piece of information he knew on them. 

It wasn’t until he focused on his movements that it hit him. “I have an idea, but it might sound a little crazy.”

“Would you look at that? It goes with the entire situation we found ourselves in!” The sorceress chided with fake cheer. 

“You can roast me with your sarcasm as much as you want later, but now I need you to listen to me.” He took her silence as a sign to continue. “I know what I have to do; I have to fly straight towards the black hole, but since I know it’s risky, I need you to run as far away as possible. Maybe even teleport yourself like your friends.”

“Are you crazy?!”

He shrugged it off. “A little. Please, it’s our only chance.”

Every second Lady Arcana didn’t answer his heart did somersaults in his chest. If it weren’t for his hands being a bit tied up at the moment, he would’ve started biting on his nails anxiously. After what felt like hours, she nodded. “Okay, but on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“Put us down somewhere remotely safe and I’ll tell you.”

In a quick succession of movements, he went from holding her wrist to holding her bridal style, his mind too preoccupied in finding somewhere safe to notice the way her cheeks reddened at the sudden intimacy. When he put her down on the floor he could only gape as she rolled her skirt and tied it up so it now reached her knees rather than the floor. But what truly caught his eye was what she was wearing on her feet.

“You wear combat boots under your skirt?”

At that, she put on a blank face. Now it was not the time for stupid questions! “Have you ever run in high heels?”

Admittedly, he had not.

“Thought so.” She hummed. “Besides, if you want me to run away from here, this gives me a greater chance at getting away. More mobility and all that.”

“Fine, I get it. So, what’s your condition?”

She looked at him. Her initial plan was to ask him to remove the crown and ring during any subsequent meetings, but now that he was staring intently at her, waiting for her answer with bated breath right as he was about to do the unthinkable, she found she couldn’t ask such a thing. Swallowing loudly, she got close to him; closer than she’d ever been. As soon as they were close enough their bodies almost touched, so close she could make out the green blush adorning his features, she placed her hands on his chest and slid them up slowly. 

Unbeknownst to her, to Danny it was maddeningly so. He could already hear his heart beating in his ears, her lavender eyes seemed to gaze deep into his soul, when he heard the distinct sound of something unclasping. Before he knew it, his cape had fallen to the ground. When he turned to look at her quizzically, she had an impish grin on her face. “In the words of the great Edna Mode, ‘no capes!’”

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics, even if said antics made perfect sense when he was about to fly into a black hole. “Okay, okay. I get it. No capes.” He grew serious again, sending her a meaningful look. “But you’d better run away, you hear me?”

“I will.” 

With that they both turned their backs on each other, about to run off in different directions when Sam had the sudden urge to call out to him over her shoulder. “Oh, and Phantom?” He raised a questioning brow. “Please, be careful.”

Her request rendering him speechless, Danny limited himself to nodding before he took off in the direction of the massive swirl of energy.

Ghostly black holes were formed when two ancient lairs came into contact with each other, resulting in enormous amounts of uncontrollable ecto-energy. The usual protocol was to evacuate the areas near the decaying lairs and destroy at least one of them before disaster happened. 

That was what he meant to do the other day before his encounter with Valerie forced him to spend the remainder of the day resting before going out with Jazz. By the time he felt better, he’d already forgotten all about it. Which meant he now needed to take desperate measures. 

A black hole’s traction power didn’t come from its Singularity, but from its Event Horizon. In other words, it came from the swirling mass of matter surrounding it. Considering this was a rotating black hole, the Penrose Process was his safest bet. He turned himself intangible, in hopes of not being pulled into due to his lack of body mass, and flew straight to the celestial body’s Ergosphere; a region of rotating space-time around the hole. 

Once inside, Danny didn’t waste a second to rev up until he’d reached his top speed, which he could only hope was enough, as he began moving counterclockwiseーthe opposite direction the black hole was rotating in. 

After what felt like hours, Danny could feel his face light up in triumph when he registered the way the hole seemed to come to a halt. That was all he needed. With renewed vigour, the halfa pushed himself a little further, breaking his personal record, and forced the massive source of matter to follow his course. Only this time, rather than increase in size, it shrank ever so slowly. 

Unfortunately, Danny was so caught up in the process he failed to see the side effect his plan was having on the black hole. With one last display of strength, it began to pull once more, except now the halfa had no place to go. Panicking, but knowing he couldn’t get away or all his efforts would be for naught, Danny resigned himself to his fate. 

“Conjunctionis ligaveris!”

“Huh?” His brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden cry, his eyes soon widened in disbelief when he felt something wrap around his ankles and tug at him and away from the black hole. 

Glancing down at his feet, he noticed the sparkly, purple, rope-like construction tied tightly around him. Trailing the rope to its origins, he gasped when he saw it was Lady Arcana who was holding onto it for dear life. 

Did she just save him?

Finally, due to Danny’s ministrations, the colossal swirling void of darkness began to curl in on itself. Then, with a deafening sound, the black hole imploded in a burst of blinding light, forcing Danny to cover his tortured ears, and Sam to shield her violet eyes. Both of them holding tight with the remnants of strength they had left onto the witch’s improvised rope.

After what felt like hours, her ears still ringing, the queen lowered her arm from her face. She blinked repeatedly, willing the dark spots filling her vision to vanish. With her vision cleared, she gasped, frantically looking around in search of Phantom. 

A voice behind her made her jump forward a few steps. “How did you do that?”

Whirling around, she couldn’t help but let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when she saw the Ghost King looking at her. Although he looked far more surprised than she expected. “Do what?”

“You…”, he started. It just didn’t make any sense! “You grabbed me!”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “...yeah, so?”

“You grabbed me and I was intangible!” He threw his arms up in the air, his mind still coming to terms with what'd just happened. 

Realisation finally dawned on Sam. “Oh, you’re right. By definition, I shouldn’t have been able to touch you…” She trailed off.

“Well,” he pressed, “how did you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She shrugged as she noticed the rope still tied to Phantom’s ankle, before willing it to disappear. “I just saw you in trouble and I knew I had to do something. I wasn’t really thinking when I did it, I just...did.”

She saw him mumble something unintelligible before his bright eyes lay on her, hard. She should’ve known this was coming, “Look, I know I said I’d run away. But, as I said, I saw you in trouble and I had to act! So there’s no need for you to lecture me about it. What’s done is done.”

“Actually,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile on his face. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t listen to me.”

Starting at his words, the two made eye contact. As she gazed, once again, upon his grateful eyes, his expression full of sincerity, she couldn’t keep her own smile from forming in her face. As they stood there, both royals could only think that, if they could work together to stop an infinite swirl of darkness, even trusting the other with their lives, then they should be able to work together to put an end to the crisis threatening their worlds. 

[salmon-sushi]

woops | aobajohsai & fem!reader

summary: Iwaizumi’s day isn’t as bad as he thinks, especially with his friends.

genre: crack(?), just teenagers being teenagers, also platonic relationships!

words: 2.1k

a/n: this piece is largely inspired by @akasuns​‘s amazing manager!fic and i just couldn’t resist writing something for seijoh boys! thank you very much to @dokifluffs​ for giving me helpful advices and proofreading this! i hope you enjoy my first piece aha mwah 🥺🥺💕💕

index

The crispy cold, the mist-ridden foggy morning and the melodious whistle of the winter birds makes the winter morning most charming, in Iwaizumi’s honest opinion. Icicles glittering from barren tree branches in the sunrays, light reflecting off the icy ground and bringing crystalline joys to pedestrians such as himself as he walks to school. Nuzzling his face into his red woolen scarf, Iwaizumi huffs when the frozen air delicately nips on his nose. The warmth of his scarf makes him even drowsier than before and Iwaizumi allows himself to close his eyes for a little bit.

But this is clearly a mistake as he fails to notice the slippery surface of an unsuspecting puddle. He opens his eyes in shock, and he is falling. It suddenly feels like 10 years of his life are gone as he lays, groaning in pain on the wet stone pavement, his heart racing in his chest as his nose and forehead burn. It didn’t help that he is suddenly hyper aware of the people walking nearby him with their footsteps becoming audibly louder than before.

Is he embarrassed that he fell on his face? Yeah. But he’s glad that none of the other pedestrians are bothered to help him up. Sure, he heard some snickers and giggles here and there, but he doesn’t mind it, knowing that he isn’t going to meet any of those people after this.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees you, his club manager and classmate, looking at him with a worried face and ready to fret over him.

“Don’t come here! I can handle this alone!” he screams in his mind while giving you the sharpest glare he could muster, hoping that you would get the message.

However, you are already used to all of his glares. You ignore his scowl and run towards him with your hands already rummaging the inside of your bag for a tissue to help him wipe his wet face. Before Iwaizumi could warn you not to run, you suddenly feel your body shifting forward, your legs no longer supporting your body. To your horror, your bag’s contents are sent flying towards Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi cringes as your body drops with a thud, your heart pounding loudly against your chest and you can feel the adrenaline rush in your legs. He merely stares at you when you slowly lift your beet red face to meet his subtly panicked eyes as if to say, “See what happens when you don’t mind your own business?”

You can feel your cheeks grow warmer as you press your lips into a thin line. Covering them with your ice cold hands in an attempt to cool down, you stare back at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan!”

Time feels much longer as you stare at each other, until the both of you pale when you hear two familiar voices approaching, discussing intensely about the latest episode of their favourite variety show that airs every weekend on the local television channel as the sound of their footsteps grow closer. “Out of all the people here, why is it always them?” Iwaizumi slams his face onto the ground, making you hiss, “Iwa-chan, stop it!”

“Oh? What do we have here?”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stop their tracks when they find both you and the team’s ace sprawled on the wet pavement with your belongings scattered around Iwaizumi. What makes it worse is that the both of you didn’t make a move to get up and leave the place like normal people would.

This is embarrassing, Matsukawa thinks.

Hanamaki snickers as he takes out his phone to snap a picture of their manager and the ace’s shameful display in public. Hell, he will even make sure to take a picture of Iwaizumi’s red face. “Iwaizumi, nice fall!�� he laughs as Iwaizumi groans into the pavement.

Matsukawa sees the threat lies underneath your glare as Hanamaki proceeds to make comments for you to look at the camera and decides that risking your wrath is not worth the fun, even if there would be no blackmail content as good as this. Wrapping his arm around Hanamaki’s shoulder, Matsukawa tries to drag his friend away from the scene, “We should leave them alone, Hanamaki.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving without blackmail material!” Hanamaki cackles, obviously enjoying himself.

While he is busy crouching to find a good angle to capture Iwaizumi’s faceplant on the wet pavement, his left leg suddenly spreads itself to the side and out of panic, he grabs Matsukawa with him.

Their impending fall, however, is cushioned as they land on top of Iwaizumi, who only whimpers in pain.

Widening their eyes in horror, they scurry away from the poor boy in the speed of light before flipping him over. “Shit!” Matsukawa curses, “Iwaizumi is as pale as a ghost!”

“Iwa-chan, no! Don’t give up just yet!” you shout before crawling to grab your heating pad next to Iwaizumi’s legs in order to give him some warmth. You can feel the jagged edges of the pavement scratching your knees, but nothing is worse compared to your friend’s likely death. In the corner of your eye, you could see Hanamaki grabbing Iwaizumi’s hands, rubbing them between his own as he sobs dramatically “You still have a lot more to live, man! Stay with us!”

Iwaizumi didn’t expect the situation to escalate so quickly.

Only a few moments ago, he was hoping for a quiet incident. Like, “Oh, you fell?” then the subject would be dropped and never be spoken again. A one time thing. Only now that he realises that he hoped too much, something he should fix soon. He should have known that he could never have a quiet incident, not when he has the three of you wailing and begging for him to survive.

I kinda want to crawl in a hole and die right now, he muses. His eyes catch several students from the basketball team laughing at the four of you and a group of girls whispering and giggling to each other. He sighs deeply, his whole chest heaving and he closes his eyes.

“Iwaizumi!” “Iwa-chan!” you scream with Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Matsukawa’s body stiffens as he points a shaky finger at Hanamaki accusingly, “You killed him, bro.”

Hanamaki gasps, turning his face away from Matsukawa in disbelief while raising his hand defensively, “Stop it. Don’t say it, bro!”

You sit up, hands covering your mouth as you gape at Iwaizumi’s still body, “Iwa-chan..”

Matsukawa quickly brings a hand to your back, rubbing it silently in a comforting gesture while Hanamaki slams his fist on the pavement, before turning to Matsukawa with a crazed glint in his eyes. “Fine! But I’m not the only one at fault here,” he begins.

Matsukawa raises his eyebrows, feigning confusion, “What are you talking about, Hanamaki?” He tilts his head, “You’re the one who ended his life.”

Hanamaki growls, “Don’t play dumb with me! You’re just as guilty as I am! If anything-” his voice drops lower, “-you’re the one who ended his life.”

Gasping, you slap Matsukawa’s hand away, feeling betrayed by the boy you called friend. “[Name]-chan, listen–”

“Save it, Mattsun. I never thought you of all people would do this kind of thing,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from Matsukawa. He grits his teeth before turning to Hanamaki, raising both of his hands. A sign of surrender. He looks at Hanamaki with regret in his eyes, sighing, “As expected from my best friend. You got me good, bro.”

Hanamaki kneels in front of Matsukawa, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His eyes are suspiciously glassy, Matsukawa notes. Perhaps, Hanamaki is a good friend after all.

“Bro..”

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi is fed up with your impromptu drama session. He quickly sits up and readies himself to berate the three of you but the world has better plans to make Iwaizumi’s day worse when a couple of rings startling all of you back into reality. With you helping Iwaizumi up by supporting his slightly throbbing back, thanks to those two, he is not surprised to find Oikawa pedaling on a bike towards your group.

“My, my, what are you guys doing here on the floor?” 

Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa is purposely making his voice loud so everyone would watch their circus show- not that everyone hasn’t already seen the soap opera between you, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but still!

In one tiny corner of Iwaizumi’s heart, he wishes something bad would befall to Oikawa, just because he is grating Iwaizumi’s already thin patience. He also conveniently forgets the old saying that goes, “Be careful what you wish for.”.

Oblivious, Oikawa continues in his airy voice, “I don’t know what you guys will do without me, your very reliable captain. Here, let me help!”

Oikawa clutches the brake of his bicycle and he raises a delicate eyebrow when the brake is not in effect. He clutches the brake harder and only then the realisation sets in- the brake is faulty. I should have walked to school instead, Oikawa smiles in acceptance before his bicycle crashes a bench at the pavement. His body feels very light as he is flung across his friends, seeing their shocked faces and mouths agape makes his heart pound wildly against his chest. Time seems to slow down when you’re falling, he muses. In the seconds it takes him to reach the ground, he knows that it is going to hurt.

His body drops with a loud thump, worrying the four of you. Hanamaki whistles slowly, “Oof, that’s gonna hurt.”

You quickly collect your belongings and shove them into your bag while Iwaizumi and Matsukawa help the poor captain up who might have damaged his pretty face, Hanamaki silently grabs Oikawa’s busted bicycle.

“Oikawa!” he looks at you with a dumb expression when you grab his face in panic, “What? What’s wrong, [Name]-chan?”

A trickle of warmth suddenly drips from his nose and the captain unknowingly sniffs it back. With a disgusted noise, Iwaizumi knocks the captain’s head, “Don’t do that, you idiot!”

Before Oikawa could complain about Iwaizumi’s brute force, you gently plug his nose with a tissue and give him more tissues for him to wipe his bloody hands once Matsukawa and Iwaizumi let him stand on his own. Although Oikawa’s injuries only consist of his bloody nose and hands, you’re pretty sure that he has more injuries on his legs- especially his knees. “I think you need to visit the nurse’s office, just to be sure.”

“Will you be taking care of me, [Name]-chan?” he asks, mustering his saddest face. You only give him an unimpressed look, “Nope, we have class. But, the nurse will take care of you, though.”

Unsatisfied with your answer, he whines and Iwaizumi is quick to knock his head again, which you proceed to scold the both of them, “Leave it, both of you!”

Matsukawa smirks, “It’s what you get for being a dumbass. Who told you to speed down the pavement?”

“I tried to slow down but the brake wouldn’t work!” Oikawa retorts.

“And who told you to not check your bike before using it during winter?” Hanamaki adds in with a grin. He and Matsukawa give each other a high five when Oikawa deflates, failing to come up with a comeback.

“Well– who told you guys to create a soap opera in the middle of the road, huh? I’m only acting as a caring captain would, like, stopping all of you from making a fool of yourselves!” Oikawa glares at his friends and looks at you for backup, which you look away guiltily, making him gasp in betrayal. “[Name]-chan!”

“Sure you are.” Iwaizumi replies, ending the conversation as the five of you continue the walk to school completely poker faced, as if you didn’t cause a scene earlier. Despite the embarrassing incident, Iwaizumi manages to look at the bright side of it. The soft wind gently caressing their cheeks, the red tinges on their noses and ears, which he is sure from the incident, and most of all, he grins into his scarf, the warmth and memory he made with his friends.

Extra:

Just before the gradual slope that leads to the crime scene, Kindaichi and Kunimi stand still as they witness their captain being knocked out from his bicycle. Wordlessly, Kunimi walks the other way to school, perking Kindaichi up.

“Oi, that route is farther to school.” Kindaichi informs his friend.

“Do I look like I want to join them down there?” Kunimi frowns as he jerks his head towards their senpais.

“I bet they’ll rope us in to save themselves from the embarrassment.” He waves his hand dismissively before turning to the other direction to school. Kindaichi looks back at his scrambling senpais before following his friend with no hesitation.

[sevsnapeposts]

Snapetober Day 2: "You have to let go".

hello everyone. this one was a hard prompt but i managed, and it hurts a little. poor Sev has a lot to carry, huh? so yes, this is from his POV. again, you can read it over in ao3 if you'd like, and also if you'd be kind enough, go give me some kudos over there. thanks, hope you enjoy~.

Day 2 - "You have to let go".

--

"I'm very disappointed, Prue".

It wasn’t easy to say those words. Severus knew well what it was like to hear those words, what it was like to feel like a failure, to feel like he had failed others, but he knew that this was the best way to reprimand her, to let her know that what she wanted to do was wrong.

"Isn't my current state enough of a warning that you shouldn't get involved in such things?", he continued. He was standing on one side of the desk, his arms folded, his expression serious and cold; meanwhile, Prue avoided looking at him, also with her arms crossed and a frown. The fact that she wouln’t look at him made him more upset. “Can't you see where I'm in because of my stupidity? I thought you’d know better than this”.

Prue was still quiet, very interested in the cobblestone of his office. Severus couldn't blame her immature behavior; after all, she was only 16 years old, and the fact that he, of all people, was the one who spoke such harsh words to her must have made her very defensive.

The man sighed, flopping into his chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the impending headache without potions or spells.

"I can't take care of everything, Prue. I have to look after Draco, and also tend to Dumbledore, and don't forget Potter, plus myself all the bloody time because Voldemort is getting more and more impatient”, he told her in a whisper. He was about to add something else to show her that he trusted her, but his choice of words proved to be the wrong one as Prue bolted to her feet, turbulent green eyes, a sea of emotions behind them.

"Do not worry for me, professor", she blurted out, in that shaky voice that always came out when she was upset. “I know how to take care of myself. I will not waste any more of your time with a burden like me”.

And with that she hurried out of the office. Severus sighed again, knowing it was useless to go after her and try to reason when those eyes filled with tears and the girl drowned in her own isolation.

Still, that didn't stop him from feeling bad. It wasn't his intention to make her cry, much less make her feel unwanted or that he saw her as another dead weight to carry. He simply wanted to show her that holding grudges only poisoned one’s soul, that excessive pride would only harm her, that the Dark Arts were unpredictable and extremely dangerous especially when some used them as an emotional outlet. He knew about that, more than he liked to admit.

Severus could understand that Prue hated her parents and was offended at the fact that they were now looking for her nonstop due to finally noticing the incredible witch she was. He could understand that she wanted nothing to do with them, that she loathed the very idea of looking at her mother. He would allow her to stay with him for the rest of her life if she wanted to (romantically or not), once things settled down, as long as she didn't go back to her hell-turned-heaven home attempt.

But what he would never allow was for Prue to go tangle herself among the Dark Arts, looking for something to get her payback for the suffering they had put her through. She was obsessive, it was in her nature to be so, and Severus knew very well that once the first curse was cast, once the Dark power was discovered, she wouldn’t return.

Nevertheless…

He was being a hypocrite, right? Telling her all those things about resentment and envy, treating her as if he were a saint, as if he had gotten over his own demons.

He would never really act upon it, because he was far above those caveman impulses, but Severus didn’t deny his dark thirst for revenge and was aware that no matter how long it had been since then, deep down he wanted to return every little thing they did to him.

To Voldemort, for killing the woman he loved the most.

To Dumbledore, for putting him in the situation he put him in, taking advantage of his pain and regret.

To Lucius, for inviting him to his cult of idiotic and intolerant cretins when he knew that he himself was an idiot and a cretin in a desperate search to belong to something, to be someone.

To James Potter and Sirius Black, for everything they did to him, for making his life more miserable than it already was.

To his father, for every humiliation, every tear, every blow. Not only for those that had left marks on his skin, not only for those that had left marks on his memory, but also for those that had adorned the body of his mother.

And in those moments when he was drowning in his misery, Severus also wanted to blame Lily, and her mother, and Prue, for how unfair life was. For everything bad that happened or had happened to him. He straightened up and buried his face in his hands, his head pulsing hard, the urge to do something stupid and irrational and potentially dangerous almost overwhelming his firm discipline.

Emotions were strong, especially the negative ones. As powerful as the Dark Arts themselves, capable of destroying everything in their path, leaving nothing but pain and destruction where before had been love, friendship, kindness.

Wrath, hatred, loneliness, envy. Severus felt them strongly, being transported from his heart to the tip of his fingers, urging him to pick up the wand and de-stress with some of his old student, teenager habits.

"Let go", he growled to himself, like a warning, like an anchor. There was no one else in there to tell him so, but he had him, as little as that seemed at the moment. He squeezed the wand, which he had taken almost without realizing it. “You have to let go”.

Grudges were strong, but he was stronger. He had learned to be. He knew that many were his mistakes and his alone.

It wasn’t Lily's fault that she had ended her friendship.

It wasn’t her mother's fault that she had been terrified and made bad decisions out of fear.

It wasn’t Prue's fault that she misunderstood him. She was a girl, just a girl who had always been displaced and put last. If anyone was to blame for making her cry it wasn’t her and her insecurities and her overthinking, but him, for not being careful. He had told her not to repeat his mistakes and yet he found himself repeating them.

He had already broken Lily's heart by calling her a Mudblood. Did he, too, have to break Prue's, making her feel that she was a burden to carry, to understand how to choose his words better?

Another sigh, and Severus finally put the wand back in one of his robes’ pockets. He wiped away a hot, angry tear that had trickled down his cheek when he least expected it. The headache was still there, more intense than before, but much less than what it could have become.

He managed to avoid catastrophe, and he would soon drink something for the bloody malaise he felt. It was still too early to go after Prue, but he knew that when she came to her senses, as much as he did, he would be able to explain things to her and steer her away from her misdeeds. If necessary, he himself would set the example, and make his peace with everyone who had ever hurt him, for her.

[tickle-bugs]

Reignite

Summary: Dean stumbles--or is cosmically shoved, more like--back upon the largest loose end in his life. This is one knot he won’t leave untied.

Took me a year (couldn’t resist the dad joke) but here’s my SPNFluffsgiving fic! I ended up writing two fics and frankensteining them together because I wasn’t happy with either on their own, and I think, all things considered, it turned out well!!! Tried something new with the present-tense vs my usual past tense, which was very, very hard for some reason. Anyways, enjoy!

Spoilers for Supernatural episode 15 x 19 through the finale ahead!

“What’s eating ya?” Bobby takes a swig of his beer and eyes Dean sideways. 

“Nothin’.” 

“We have all of eternity to sit here. Don’t think I won’t.” Bobby flicks the bottle cap at him and chuckles when it bounces off his shoulder. 

“I like it here. It’s nice. Quiet.”

“But…?” Bobby looks at him in that very Bobby-like way, that strange blend of impatience and kindness that leaves no room to doubt that he cares.  

“Something is just...wrong? I dunno. I felt a little better when Sam got here, but I still have this weight on my chest. Like something is missing. I dunno.” Dean taps his fingers against the beer bottle and slumps down in his chair. He heaves a breath that gets stuck somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“You’re saying ‘I don’t know’ a lot for someone who seems to know exactly what’s buggin’ ya.” Bobby raises his beer in a silent ‘I’ll drink to that’. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be talking to you,” Dean grumbles, kicking a pebble off of the Roadhouse porch. Bobby whips off his hat and smacks Dean’s arm, then his leg, then his stomach which really wasn’t cool. 

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry! Back off!” Dean raises his arms to shield from Bobby’s wrath, biting back a comment about Bobby being a crotchety old man. 

“Think about it. Who’s the only person you haven’t seen since you made it here?” Bobby makes a little bird with his hands and raises his eyebrows as if Dean’s first thought wasn’t of teary blue eyes.

“Cas is in the Empty, Bobby. He’s gone. It just swallowed him like--like nothing.” Dean’s voice breaks and he knocks back his beer to hide it. 

“Jack must have built this magic box wrong. You’re supposed to feel it when a loved one arrives.”

“What?”

“Cas is here, Dean. He helped put this all together.” 

The world shrinks to a pinpoint. The beer bottle slips from Dean’s fingers and his attempt to catch it sends it soaring into the road, where it rolls far enough to qualify as a lost cause. The image of a teary Cas, seconds before destruction, grabs a swift and tight hold of the front of his mind. 

I love you.

“Bobby-”

“Are you really gonna waste your breath arguing with me when I just told you that he’s out there? This may be heaven, but I can still kick your ass.” Bobby narrows his eyes at Dean. 

Why does this feel like a goodbye?

Because it is.

“But-”

“Go after him, Dean.  You made him wait this long already.” Bobby squeezes Dean’s shoulder and shakes him a little, fixing him with those kind-but-tough eyes. Dean sighs and rubs a hand over his face, hissing when cold metal pokes him in the eye.

Baby’s keyring dangles from his finger, clinking gently as it collides with his palm. He sighs and shoves it in his pocket, making sure to shake the little ring off of his finger. 

Weird. 

“Can’t escape what your heart wants.” Bobby gestures towards Dean’s hand with an infuriating little smirk, like he knows something Dean doesn’t. 

“That doesn’t mean jack shit,” Dean grumbles. 

“Sure, and I’m President Roosevelt.” Bobby rolls his eyes. 

“Which one?”

“Teddy, obviously.” Bobby leans back in his seat with a chuckle. Dean scratches at his cheek and grunts when, once again, metal digs into his skin. Baby’s keys jingle menacingly at him, like a pushy set of windchimes, and they don’t budge when he tries to shake them away. He turns his hand upside-down and scrapes the keys off like a stubborn piece of gum, but they reappear in the other hand.

“What the fuck?” He holds them up to eye level and they sway in the breeze, jingling again. He drops them and they zoom right back into his hand, like a lame Mjolnir, and okay, someone has to be messing with him. He shakes them a few times to detect any evil (a foolproof method, in his opinion) and Baby’s car alarm starts blaring much louder than it should.

“Dean.”

“Alright, I’m going!” He trudges away from the porch, grumbling under his breath, and the car’s alarm shuts off with a pleasant chirp.

“Tell him I said hi!” Bobby waves and watches the Impala pull onto the open road, raising his beer until he disappears from Dean’s rearview. 

…

Dean cuts the ignition and slides out of the Impala, squinting against the sudden warm breeze. It’s quiet out here. If it wasn’t for the constant tugging on his soul, like a bratty kid demanding attention, it would be nice. Peaceful, even.

He leans against the bridge railing and closes his eyes against the next gust of wind, this one much more powerful than the first. Everything in the vicinity rustles as the wind dances by. He leans his forehead against his hands and sighs.

What the hell would he even say?

There’s no manual for this, no prior experience or family legend to consult. Jesus, he’s like a teenager trying to apologize for standing up a date. He’d ditched Cas at the celestial prom, and now he has to face the music. No more asking Dad to leave early for the next hunt so he wouldn’t have to face whichever girl he dumped. Grown-ass men face their weird, divine love affairs with dignity, not revenge hookups in the girl’s locker room. 

Highschool Dean would call Present Dean a bitch for even trying to chase after Cas.

Highschool Dean was a dick, anyway. 

Okay, he needs a gameplan. Stay calm, cool, and collected--like he’s working a case. Cas doesn’t need to know about the butterflies rioting in his stomach. Dean would be smooth and chill. They’ll talk like adults--yeah, that’s it. Grown-ass men, and whatnot. He’d just send Cas a message on angel radio, he’d zip on down, and they’d be hunkydory--

“Hello, Dean.”

Shit.

He whips around, his throat already closing up in mutiny. Just seeing Cas is a punch in the gut--he looks just as Dean remembers, if not better. It’s as if not a day has passed since the Bunker, and god, Dean might not be qualified for this. 

Cas smiles timidly as he steps forward, hands shoved awkwardly into his coat pockets. His head’s bowed, as if he’s in trouble, as if Dean would scold him for who fucking knows what, and his blood boils at the thought. 

“Dean?” Cas tilts his head.

Something grips Dean, something powerful and terrifying in its ferocity. A force he doesn’t understand surges at the bounds of his body, welling up into his throat, his heart, his lungs. Tears spill from him at a terrifying rate but he’s numb and aching all at once. He’s shaking--no, trembling--and he pulls Cas into a kiss before he loses his nerve. 

If he could quantify the triumph of nearly two decades of suffocating pining, he’d say it tastes like stale peppermint. He makes a mental note to lecture Cas about his choice in gum later—spearmint is obviously superior. 

Dean pulls away when his gross, sticky hiccups start to interfere with the sweetness of the kiss. He feels disgusting but he couldn’t stop crying if he wanted to. 

Definitely not one of his highlight moments. 

“Cas,” he croaks. Cas, Cas, Cas, loops in his head, interfering with the static everything else he needs to say. A tumultuous wave of words presses against his lips and he focuses all of his energy on getting them out. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright.” Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands, swiping away tears with his thumbs, but he’s sobbing so hard that it doesn’t make a difference. His ‘calm, cool, and collected’ plan is effectively blown to hell and he curses himself for it.  

“You shouldn’t have gone out like that, man. Fuck, I should have said something-”

“Dean, it’s alright--”

“No, it isn’t. I screwed up, Cas. I screwed up so fuckin’ bad.” Dean blinks at a tear-warped Cas, gripping his forearms as if he’d disappear in the breeze. 

“When you said...what you said, I thought it back. It was easier to say in my head but I should’ve said it out loud. You deserve to hear it. You deserve everything.” Speaking his mind is like willingly chugging motor oil. He swallows thickly as his thoughts start to align into some semblance of clarity. 

“You deserved more time,” Cas murmurs, and he has the nerve to look upset. He always wanted to give Dean more, so much more than he ever deserved. 

“Shut up,” Dean growls. Some switch flips in him, some bristly protectiveness that has him wanting to shake the angel like a margarita until he finally admits his worth. 

“Dean--”

“Nope. No more heroic bullshit. You’ve given enough, Cas. It’s enough. You’re enough.” Dean grips Cas’s shoulders and stares him down. Cas opens his mouth to retort but whatever expression is on Dean’s face presumably shuts him up. 

“You’ve always had me, Cas. You will always have me. I have never loved anyone the way I love you.” Finally, finally, the words tumble out without a second thought. Dean’s death grip on Cas’s shoulders loosens. He did it. 

“I love you too, Dean. I’ve loved you since the very beginning.” Cas smiles, as if it’s simple. 

“Gross,” Dean quips on instinct, and he regrets it the second it comes out. 

“You’re gross,” Cas fires back, squinty eyes and all, and Dean barks out a laugh that startles them both.

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, cradling the back of Cas’s neck with his hand, and resolves never to let him go. Never again.

...

“Dean Novak ain’t bad,” Dean murmurs, rubbing a hand over Cas’s bare shoulder. The angel’s nestled into his side, huffing warm breaths into his collarbone, and he would rather die again than forget the feeling of Cas’s sleepwarm skin. 

“Mm. Castiel Winchester.” His lips graze over Dean’s chest in a low effort sort-of kiss. 

“You shouldn’t have to carry that name, after everything.”

“Hyphenation isn’t uncommon. Winchester-Novak?” Cas tilts his head up and scoots just slightly, trying to preserve his warm spot in Dean’s arms. He presses a proper kiss to the base of Dean’s throat and hums when he twitches away. 

“Sounds less like a name and more like a spell.” Dean snorts, and Cas swats his shoulder.

“I fell in love with you, Dean Winchester, and it would be an honor to carry that name. Even if it is completely ceremonial.” Cas turns Dean’s face down towards him, forcing their eyes to meet. Dean’s a little more than breathless at the way Cas’s eyes catch the moonlight but he still manages to grin. 

“Winchester is a dumb name, sorry.” 

“You are blatantly disrespecting my fiancé.” Cas squints at him. 

“Hmm, am I?” Dean’s eyes flit down to Cas’s lips, tongue flicking against his teeth. 

“Yes.”

“Your fiancé is a dumbass for not proposing to you sooner.” Dean cradles the back of Cas’s head, absently scratching his fingers along the scalp.

“He absolutely is. But only I get to say that about him.” Cas’s face settles into a steely neutrality betrayed only by the sparkle in his eye. Dean leans in closer but Cas stops him with a finger over his lips.

“Apologize.”

“Wh--are you serious?” 

“Apologize, Dean.” Cas pushes himself up on his elbow and cocks his eyebrow.

“You want me to apologize...to myself?” Dean chuckles in disbelief, waiting for Cas to admit he’s joking, but all he receives are wide, blinking blue eyes. 

“Perhaps you need some encouragement,” Cas murmurs, his lips quirking into a smirk. Before Dean can protest, Cas throws his leg over Dean’s and buries his nimble fingers into his ribs. 

“Wait, Cas--ahaha!”

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t kind towards yourself, I don’t want to hear them.” Cas leans up to nip at Dean’s ear, burying a few chuckles directly behind it. His fingers trail down Dean’s body, pinching every inch of his ribs and sides.

What leaves Dean next is less words and more a verbal error noise. He arches away, desperately shoving at Cas’s shoulders. All he does is turn himself around, and Cas is very quick to wrap him up in his arms. His fingers press into Dean’s lower stomach and trip over one another like he’s gliding over piano keys. 

Dean curls, arms folded over his middle. Cas manages a cheeky pinch to the back of Dean’s thigh and he squeaks--apparently Cas likes that noise because an avalanche of more pinches follow. 

Dean doesn’t expect him to find that devastating spot near his armpit on the first fucking try, but Cas is full of surprises and Dean is full of laughter. He clamps his arms to his sides but it barely makes a difference. Fireworks overwhelm his nervous system. In Cas’s arms, he feels like he’s flying--but he can’t tell if it’s the lack of air or the endolphins. Endorphins. Whatever. 

“Cas!” His name floats out of Dean, blanketed in crinkly-eyed, heartwarming laughter. It’s all he wants to hear for the rest of eternity. 

“You are everything to me.” Cas doesn’t expect Dean to hear him over his near-violent giggles, but Dean squeezes his wrist twice to acknowledge him where his voice can’t. His fingers slow, gently trailing over pinkened skin, and Dean slowly remembers how to breathe. 

“We can renegotiate the name thing. Maybe,” Dean wheezes, and his shit-eating grin is nearly audible. Cas rolls his eyes and scribbles at Dean’s exposed hip, following each turn, twist, and twitch. For the first few moments, he’s concerningly quiet, only squirming with strangled noises, but within seconds his laughter catches back up with his brain and he’s cackling into the mattress. 

“Maybe? Is that your final answer?”

“Nonono, please Cas!” Dean shrieks, kicking his legs as if it will help. He flails all the way to the edge of the bed but Cas is quick to pull him back into his arms. His tickly touch turns calming in an instant, tracing over muscle lines and battle scars as they both resettle. 

“We’ll work on it. Together.” Cas flips him over and steals a quick kiss, drinking up the leftover laughter. Dean’s joy is sweet on his tongue. 

“Together,” Dean murmurs, leaning their foreheads together. 

Holding his lover—Castiel, his Castiel—in the moonlight is all that Dean Winchester-Novak could ever ask for.

There was happiness in the having, after all. 

[creativeashproductions]

Faded Memories // Julie Molina

Summary: After the death of her mother more than music is dropped from Julie’s life. Julie breaks up with her best friend turned then girlfriend Ramona. When Ramona gets closure it causes Julie remembers that Ramona was more than a girlfriend. She was her best friend too.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death, break-up, angst (ain’t new here), Julie and Ramona are ex-girlfriends and no happy ending (oops)

Characters: ex!Julie Molina x ex!Ramona Monet (just worked better with an OC even when it will get less traction, sorry)

Words: 2.9k

A/N: So in my Charlie Gillespie imagine A Walk Down The Aisle the reader played a character Ramona Monet on the show. @leave-reality-behind wanted a fic off the tiny scene I wrote. So here you go.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will through commenting on the fics.

Masterlist

Ramona Monet’s deep burgundy lips manoeuvred into an ‘o’ as she released a deep breath of air sending her fringe flying. The last place she wanted to be was the spirit rally, but her Pops had banned for from the hidden gem in the older parts of LA. Ramona’s love of old movies stemmed from the many times her father had dropped her off at the movie theatre on his way to work. Being banned and her best friend performing at the rally is the only reason she would show her face.

Ramona had chosen a red tartan shirt with her fishnets that would more than likely land her in Principle Lessa’s office. As usual, she would fight ‘it broke dress code’ earing a little less respect from the adult but admiration for the quick retorts. Ramona made her way to the gym as the first beat of Carrie’s song played, her black ankle boots finding the way to the bleachers.

“Hey, Monet,” Nick spoke, leaning forward from his concealed position in the nest of jocks. The kind blonde had always been lovely to his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Nick.” Ramona nodded looking back as Carrie burst into the fast pace choreography that went with the pop song.

Dirty Candi’s music was not what Ramona listened to, but she couldn’t fault that it was a catchy song that would be in everyone’s head for days. From a distance, Carrie’s brown eyes finding Ramona wearing her self-made merch.

Ramona’s shirt sported the letters of Dirty Candi in the iconic colours Carrie had stressed over in the beginning. The black shirt was bleached in a tie-dye fashion, but it made Carrie’s heart flutter at the supportive friend she had.

“Whoo!” Ramona called over the loud background noise as Carrie gracefully dropped to perform the floor choreo. The words referencing to the band Queen made the teen girl knowing it was Carrie’s way of acknowledging the car karaoke.

Ramona’s attention was brought to the side where two girls were watching the performance. Flynn and Julie had been in the back of Ramona’s mind since the accident happened; Ramona’s heart dropped at the girl. Julie and Ramona had a good history tainted by tragic loss and teenage angst.

Ramona and Julie had been childhood best friends being a few houses from each other and that history was bittersweet. The two girls had nervously shared their first kisses in the now dilapidated treehouse in the Monet’s backyard. A relationship bloomed like a flower in the morning sun before the sun was concealed behind a storm cloud. Julie’s mom died, and Julie asked for a break.

Now everyone knows that a break is really a breakup and the naïve girlfriends had believed that. Then as Julie struggled with music, she struck out to the closest person, her girlfriend and Ramona found herself dumped. The dumping shattered Ramona’s heart, and the friend group divided. Flynn chose Julie and Carrie, disgusted by the cruel words, chose Ramona in a true Carrie fashion; Carrie and Ramona had initially only interacted together for their mutual friend/girlfriend. Then Ramona’s heart was obliterated when days later, she caught Julie staring at Nick with the same look Ramona used to get.

Ramona’s head turned to disregard the girl that had run out of music class the previous day during her performance. Rumours circulated by the end of the day that Julie Molina had been officially kicked out of the program; Ramona was both sad and relieved. Julie’s own head turned to catch the profile of her ex-girlfriend.

“Go Bobcats!” Carrie Wilson chimed strutting off to the girls change room for the dramatic exit. Needing a break from Julie, the Monet girl followed Dirty Candi into the change room.

“Nailed it,” Ramona spoke, revealing white teeth behind her dark lipstick gaining the pink-haired girl’s attention. Carrie’s face beamed at the compliment.

Ramona and Carrie Wilson couldn’t be farther in comparison with their different tastes and appearance. Carrie was all pink and glittery while Ramona was grunge and angst. Ramona was the one to push Carrie into making a YouTube channel, even promoting the group to Ramona’s followers without prompting.

“Oh! Thank you!” Carrie tugged her best friend into her arms, choking her taller friend with the tight embrace.

“So, I overheard Julie and Flynn when I walked by the music room. Julie’s going to perform for Mrs Harrison.” Ramona warned her best friend concerned as Carrie’s complexation changed to make the gaudy pink wig, “OH!”

Carrie’s French manicure gouged Ramona’s bare arm as she was tugged after the teenager back into the gym. A gasp fell from both their lips as Kayla, the purple dancer for Dirty Candi appeared. The three students rushed the stage where three guys popped out of nowhere on the stage. 

“What the hell?” Ramona demanded watching her ex-girlfriend break out of her music shell, “Wow.”

“What do you mean ‘wow’ Ro?” Carrie asked in exasperation as her best friend stared at the stage, enjoying the music being played. Carrie scoffed only to soften when she saw the expression on Ramona, “Ro, she doesn’t deserve you. She never did.”

The sad smile appeared on Ramona’s face as her eyes met the bass player’s wink. Ramona flushed at the attention taken aback from the confidence. For a split-second, Ramona considered wiggling her way into the band to get back at Julie. 

But while Ramona dressed like a confident badass, it was inside that she felt alone and hurt that Julie was doing so well without her. That sent rage flooding Carrie’s body so when Kayla fawned over the band Carrie glared at her. Kayla dropped her head at the glare.

“I’m gonna go,” Ramona spoke walking away from the stage and her ex who apparently, she still had feelings for. God help Ramona. Why was it when Ramona was shaking the feeling that Julie had to come back with a bang?

Ramona was striding out of the gym as the band disappeared, leaving the Molina girl alone to explain. Ramona leaned against the bathroom sink uncaring of the germs in carried staring at the teen in the mirror. The bubbling sadness faded down, remembering the changes that had happened, she was better without Julie.

Ramona walked back into the hall, catching the tail end of Julie’s conversation with absolutely no one near her. Ramona’s mossy green eyes rolled as she walked by the younger girl the bubble of anger reaching the surface. The sheepish smile on Julie’s face as a concerned custodian pushed his cart by.

“Oh, so does this girl.” Reggie spoke, watching as a rocker chick made a wide berth around his only remaining alive friend, “Ooh, she’s pretty.”

Julie watched the older girl walk by keeping her gaze ahead, “Hey Mona.”

Ramona cast a weird look at the other girl with a roll of her eyes, “Good on you for performing. Surprised someone other than Flynn survived Bitch Bomb 2019.”

Ramona turned around the corner of lockers leaving the Puerto Rican’s shoulders to deflate at the remind of Flynn running off. Sunset Curve watched the interaction with raised brows flicking between the very different girls.

“What was that about?” Alex wondered, viewing the sad expression of the gifted singer’s face. The utter sadness reminding him of when he broke up with his first boyfriend in ’93 and the lingering feeling.

“That was Ramona.” Julie sighed, picking at the braided bracelet on her wrist that had matched the one you used to wear. 

Being fourteen without jobs and little allowance gifts had been mostly thrifted or homemade so for the six month anniversary they had braided bracelets. They had never come off their wrists until the breakup; Ramona had cut it off in a puddle of tears. Julie couldn’t bring herself to remove hers.

“When did Julie get smart enough to how about holograms?” Carrie scoffed as Ramona joined her at the lab table. The performance lingering like a bad taste of the girl’s tongue, “I worked weeks on that song! It was so hard getting Katy’s choreographer to help.”

“Carrie she-“

“She is so stupid! We’ve all lost someone, and we didn’t pull a Bitch Bomb 2019.” Carrie exclaimed referring to the first months of Julie’s grief-led wrath. 

Carrie was both right and wrong in that sense because everyone grieved differently, Carrie would do retail shopping. Ramona’s way of dealing was locking herself in a room with a piano and lugging up water balloons to a roof; very Peyton Sawyer of her. Julie never reached out to apologize for her actions, but Ramona blocked her on everything.

“Car focus on the lab. You still have that bomb-ass song you’re working on.” Ramona sympathized with the teen. Carrie nodded her head, deciding to not focus on some girl with a fluke of a performance; Julie almost puked on the piano a few days ago, so her surprise band was probably a one-time thing.

“Don’t you have anything better than-“

“Carrie do you hear something?” Ramona pursed her lips, scanning the classroom with a feigned look of confusion. Carrie’s lips twitched at her best friend’s antics, “I swore I heard the voice of irrelevance.”

“Ooh and I swore I smelt gutter water perfume too.” Carrie flicked her hair over her shoulder, smirking at Flynn’s look of anger, “Mr. Taylor! Flynn threatened to burn me!”

Mr Taylor turned his attention from Kayla to Flynn’s expression of disbelief and the glare directed at the table ahead. Putting on a look of shock, Ramona appeared genuinely flabbergasted to the chemistry teacher.

“Flynn, that’s detention.” Mr Taylor spoke, turning back to Kayla.

“You bit-“Flynn was cut off by the bell ringing. Ramona and Carrie had already left the confident girl in the room. Flynn was fuming with both Julie’s lying and the unfair detention because of two popular vindictive girls. 

One would expect Ramona Monet, as a member of the music program, to play guitar or drums. However, Ramona was a classically trained pianist with an affinity with stringed instruments as well. The Monet family had a footing in the music world with her mother taught in the same way, and her father a composer.

“Oh! Sorry.” Ramona’s intense focus on the music enchanting the room was pulled as the awkward form stood in the entrance.

“Seriously, Molina?” Ramona winced as her hands fell on the keys creating an ear gouging shriek. Her green eyes shining brighter with the bare face she had chosen with little motivation for makeup, “I’ve been using this room every day at the same time since freshman year. You should know that. Guess I really wasn’t even an afterthought.”

Ramona’s hand shoved soft top binder of her notes in her black bag covered in many pins and embroidered patches. Her bright pink nail polish surprising Julie but her eyes drowned in the form-fitting ripped black jeans with the wine red cable knit sweater. Cheeks flushing Julie stuttered.

“S-sorry. I just-“

“Whatever.” Ramona shoved passed her ex-girlfriend, “Why do you even wear that?”

Julie glanced at the meaningful bracelet that Ramona intensely stared at with the dark and light strings braided. Julie’s eyes fell to see Ramona no longer wore braided bracelets but a bracelet with a moon charm.

“It means a lot.”

“Just not the person.” Ramona darkly chuckled, “Kinda childish?”

Julie shuffled uncomfortably on her feet picking at her cuticle at the insult her antagonist ex threw at her. Three ghosts glared at the Monet girl pissed at the unfair treatment she was giving Julie.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” Luke snapped, stepping forward even as Alex made his input of it being unnecessary; they were dead. To Alex shock, the disgruntled girl shifted her gaze from Julie to the trio.

“My problem is none of your damn business Uncle Jesse.” Ramona spat earning raised brows at her reference.

 “Did she die in the ’90s too?” Reggie stage whispered to his best friend staring the pretty brunette down. Ramona’s eyes rolled.

“Should have known. The only people Julie didn’t scare off would be the dead.” Ramona snarked twisting on her heel to storm off into the distance.

“I’m sorry!” Julie yelled, bringing the brunette to a dead stop with her foot not planted on the floor yet as the apology finally came.

All Ramona had ever wanted was Julie to apologize for her shitty decision to dump Ramona cruelly. Using bitter words on her personal life to drive the wedge but the final nail in the coffin was the slammed door in Ramona’s face.

“For what?” Ramona seethed, “For asking for space and screaming when I gave it? Dumping me and acting like I was the black plague? How about when you forgot about my audition? Burning the flowers, I sent for the funeral? Or making breaking off communication and Flynn completely ignoring me?”

“Oh damn.” Luke murmured, stepping back to the drummer and bassist floored at the confrontation. His heart dropped, finally understanding why Julie avoided all topics relating to Ramona.

“I was wrong.” Julie admitted, “I pushed you away. I got mad when you gave me what I wanted. I should have talked to you and not broke up with you that way I did.”

“She burnt funeral flowers. “Alex whispered to Reggie, surprised at the out of character action from his new friend.

“I chose you over my audition. I chose to offer support for my best friend, not just my then-girlfriend, on one of her worst days. I get to the funeral, and you refused to let me say goodbye to the woman that practically raised me as well.” Ramona calmed down, staring at the younger girl breaking apart in front of her.

It felt like a weight dropped off Ramona’s shoulders or the chains of heartbreak and confusion unlocked with the key of closure. The clouds disappeared, letting the sun help the flowers bloom after a year of rain. A genuine smile spread on the girls face as Julie’s dropped at the beautiful sight.

“I hope you well Birdie.” Julie’s heart fluttered at the pet name Ramona had coined for the teenager. It shortened from songbird to birdie, and Julie hadn’t heard in what felt like years, “I gotta go. It’s filming day.”

Julie went pushed into a memory.

Summer 2018

The camera was entirely set on Ramona in the treehouse that her Pop had built when she was five years old. Fourteen-year-old Ramona was relaxing as she fixed her white off-shoulder crop top to be straight once more. The cover of the song accompanied by her acoustic guitar was pretty to the years of the short girl at the entrance.

“I still think it’s cheesy to call it Music Monday.” Ramona told the camera with a shy smile after strumming the last note. Her eyes meeting the girl that tackled her in a hug, “Birdie!”

“Birdie?” Julie questioned leaning back from her kissing attacks on every inch of her dirty-blonde girlfriend.

“Songbird is a bit of a mouthful.” Ramona blushed hiding in Julie’s neck unaware of the camera still rolling. The blush deepened at the lingering kiss to Ramona’s hairline.

“I love it.” Julie softly spoke, leaning back to gaze into Ramona’s green eyes swimming in the soft feeling.

Julie Molina and Ramona Monet had been the classic best friends with hidden crushes that shattered one afternoon. Ramona was nervous about a date she had the next day, and she had never kissed anyone. Julie, awed by her best friend, admitted she’d never kissed anyone and so in a cliché, the girls decided to share their first kiss. Feelings were revealed, and the two started to date.

“So, what brings you here.” Ramona asked, stopping the camera from recording as her girlfriend shifted, “What’s up?”

“If you’re ready I’d like to have you over for dinner.” Julie shyly asked, avoiding Ramona’s gaze.

“That’s not new Birdie.” Ramona chuckled helping the shorter girl to her feet fingers caressing the bracelet that was a twin to her own. Julie’s eyes flicked down to the light pink shorts that matched the butterfly click in Ro’s hair.

“Not as my best friend. As my girlfriend.” Julie murmured fearing the response.

“Should I call your parents Mr and Mrs.” Ramona wondered, kissing Julie’s cheek as the other girl relaxed at the statement. Julie feared Ramona wasn’t ready or didn’t want to be at that stage in the relationship, “If you are ready, then so am I.”

“You’re the best thing to happen to me.” Julie beamed, “Oh! I wanna show you the song Mom, and I made!”

Julie tugged her pretty girlfriend to the front of the house to lead her to the Molina’s garage they renovated into a music studio. The girls’ laughter floating in the summer breeze, the relationship blooming under the sun as it developed further. Naïvely the two young teens believed nothing could rip them apart, if only they knew.

“So, I’m guessing she’s off-limits?” Reggie offered as he bounced on his heels, attempting to lighten the mood. The glare from Julie was enough to answer that question.

“Reg. Firstly, don’t date your friend’s ex. Secondly, you’re dead.” Alex deadpanned at his best friend to turn to Julie, “Are you okay?”

 “No.” Julie honestly spoke, “I guess I never realized that losing my girlfriend also meant I would lose my best friend.”

On the other side of the school, Ramona Monet could finally smile as the memories with Julie regained the colour grief had erased. Ramona Monet was better than fine, she was happy.

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[blueaura]

Lost and Found Ch. 5

A/N: Since I was late with the last chapter, I tried to get this one done as soon as possible. We finally get a little bit of Cas as well as some brotherly moments between Sam and Dean. Thanks to everyone who’s read it this far. As always, any tips and suggestions are welcome. Feedback would be amazing. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Sam and Dean meet a young hunter who is a little rough around the edges and they reluctantly take her under their wing. But she might be a little more connected to them that any of them realise.

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Dean found himself at the bar after he stormed out of the motel room. He was angry, which wasn’t a big surprise since anger was practically Dean Winchester’s default setting. What was a surprise was the fact that Dean was scared shitless. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so out of control.

Fear was a constant in Dean’s life, it wasn’t like this was a new feeling. Hell, fear kept him alert during hunts. It was healthy, even, in his profession. But this wasn’t the fear that came with hunting a monster or facing the devil. This was like the time Sam had ran away on his watch and he couldn’t find him. Or like when Dad had left him in that boys’ home with no guarantee that he was coming back. This was the kind of fear where he was completely helpless and didn’t know what to do to make things better.

He took a sip of his beer and realised he needed something way stronger if he was to compose himself before facing his brother and Y/N again.

Y/N.

He didn’t know how to deal with this new complication in his life. He remembered his time with Sandra, remembered how she had cut him off after their last time together even though they had been pretty consistent with keeping in touch before then. Could she really have hid something so big from him? His grip tightened over the bottle as anger coursed through his veins at the thought of her hiding this from him. He latched onto that anger. Anger was safe, this he knew how to handle.

“Can I get a whiskey next sweetheart? Make it a double,” he didn’t even look at the pretty bartender behind the counter, staring intently at the beer in his hand instead.

“Rough night?” she asked as she handed him a glass half filled with whiskey.

“Something like that,” he replied, taking the glass and immediately downing it in one go.

“You wanna talk about it?” she eyed him as she refilled his glass.

Dean looked at her. She was pretty, someone he would usually not think twice about taking home. In fact, on a normal night he would have already had her spread out in the backseat of baby by now. But this wasn’t a normal night, and so he ignored her ‘fuck me’ eyes and instead shook his head as he sipped on his second glass of whiskey. Better to pace himself unless he wanted to show up at the motel drunk and freak Y/N out more than she already was.

His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID – Cas. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he remembered he’d promised to call him after the case ended. Cas wasn’t taking the whole ‘being on the bench’ thing too well and was more worried than usual about Sam and Dean so they had tried to keep him updated to assuage his fear.

“Cas,” he tried to keep his voice even, “Hey man, sorry we didn’t call. We’re alright.”

“What’s wrong?” Cas always knew when Dean was bullshitting him. For someone who barely knew social cues, he was more in tune with Dean’s emotions than Dean himself was. It was freaky but he guessed it was a side effect of the whole ‘raising him from perdition’ deal.

Dean considered lying but he knew it was pointless. He sighed loudly as Cas waited for him to talk patiently. Looking around the packed bar, he decided to head out before having this conversation. Throwing a few bills on the counter to cover his drinks, he quickly thanked the bartender and walked to his car.

“It wasn’t vampires,” Dean tried to deflect. “It was a family of shifters. Y/N and I got caught and Sammy came in and saved the day.”

“Dean,” Cas said in that infuriating tone which always got on Dean’s nerves. Clearly deflection wasn’t working.

“Sammy is under the impression that I may have a daughter,” Dean blurted out quickly.

Cas was silent for a moment, taking in what Dean was saying.

“Well, is it such a surprise? You engage in a lot of sexual activity from what I’ve heard,” Dean didn’t know if Cas was joking or just being Cas.

“Dude, seriously, what the hell! Why does everyone think I’m stupid enough to forget a condom? I’m not irresponsible!”

“You do realise that no protection is a 100% effective Dean,” Cas sounded amused, “But, who is the girl you think you fathered?”

“Not me, Sammy,” Dean growled out.

Cas waited.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N,” Dean finally mumbled.

“The hunter you met on the case?” Cas was surprised. “That doesn’t seem odd to you? Meeting a hunter who is potentially your offspring on a case, while we’re supposed to be dealing with the darkness?”

Dean paused. “You think this is what – some kind of a trick?”

“It does seem like too much of a coincidence, Dean, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said after considering the situation. “And even if it is, Y/N is not involved. There is just no way. She was more shocked when Sam said it than I was. Unless she’s the best teenage actress on the entire fucking planet, there’s no way you fake a reaction as strong as that.”

Perhaps the intensity in his voice surprised Cas, because he didn’t say anything for a long time while Dean got his anger in check. He didn’t care who he was to her, he was already protective over the kid. The thought of her being used for some plot against them set his blood on fire. He wouldn’t lose anyone like he did Charlie ever again – never.

“I didn’t say the child was involved, Dean,” Cas said slowly, as if scared of incurring Dean’s wrath. “I only meant to bring up the possibility that if anyone on either side knew about her, the child might be in danger. Be careful. Please.”

Dean calmed down immediately at that. Cas was just looking out for him, like he always did.

“I don’t know how anyone could have known. Hell, I don’t even actually know yet. It’s just speculation, Cas. It’s not like we can waltz in and get a paternity test. I’m supposed to be legally dead.”

He had hated when the kid had pointed it out, but she made sense.

“If I could perhaps see the child, get a good look at her soul, I would be able to confirm it for you,” Cas said thoughtfully. He knew Dean’s soul like the back of his hand. He would recognise a piece of it anywhere.

“Alright, one – stop calling her ‘child’ Cas, she’s not a toddler. And B, you’re still recovering. You need to concentrate on healing. We can live a few more days without knowing.”

“This is something I can do Dean. Let me. It doesn’t require me exerting myself and it would help you. Bring her to the bunker, I’ll be here.”

Dean knew Cas wouldn’t budge. He detested ‘not being useful’.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Sam and Y/N about it and we’ll head your way if she decides to join us,” he conceded.

“What? No, Dean. You need to bring her here. She could be in danger,” Cas stressed out.

“I’ll figure something out. I can’t force her to come or she’ll never trust me again Cas. Kid’s already hesitant to accept help. If we rush her, we’ll lose her for good.”

Dean wasn’t happy about it, but he knew better than to push her. He remembered kids at his short stint in the boy’s home, how guarded they were. He knew she’d had it worse and it killed him to think about it, so he pushed it to the back if his mind.

“Alright Dean. See you soon then,” Cas said.

“Yeah buddy. You rest up, alright? If we’re going to do this, you need to regain your strength first.”

“Bye Dean.”

He hung up as he was pulling up outside the motel. After parking the car, he walked to their room for the night hoping to take a shower. He hadn’t been able to after the hunt and had received more than a couple of odd looks at his appearance while at the bar. Still made an impression on the bartender, he thought smugly, opening the door and then promptly freezing at the sight in front of him.

Y/N was sleeping with her head in Sam’s lap as he sat next to her, still stroking her hair. She had clearly been crying and even Sam’s eyes looked a little red.

Sam looked up when the door opened, his hand immediately going for his gun before he saw Dean and relaxed. He looked at Y/N and gently lifted her head, placing it on the pillow, before motioning to Dean to step back outside.

“What the hell happened,” Dean immediately snapped at his brother as soon as the door closed behind them. Sam took a laboured breath, not reacting to Dean’s anger.

“We talked. She’s scared Dean. I don’t know what exactly happened in her life but it was bad. Bad enough that she hyperventilated at the thought of having to go to school. And not in the normal teen angst kind of way. It was – She’s had it rough, man.”

Dean pulled at his hair. “How am I supposed to fix this, Sammy? I don’t know the first thing about being a dad! Let’s be honest, we didn’t have the greatest example of one.”

Sam was surprised. Dean usually didn’t admit Dad’s faults. He watched as Dean paced in the corridor.

“A daughter, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke as he finally allowed himself to feel the overwhelming panic that he’d been pushing down the entire night.

“Dean? Hey! De, calm down,” Sam gripped his shoulders, making him stop.

“What the hell are you talking about man? You practically raised me! It’s gonna be a challenge and you’re probably gonna screw up along the way but you’re gonna do right by that kid. I know this because I know you. I know how good you are at this because I saw it first-hand. We’re gonna figure this out and we’re gonna do it together – like we always do.”

Sam didn’t remember the last time his brother had let himself be this vulnerable in front of him. Dean had always been the rock, the adult. He watched as Dean slowly got himself under control and patted his neck to assure him that he wasn’t alone. Dean nodded, getting rid of the remaining anxiety in his body. He could do this. He had to. He’d missed out on fifteen years already.

“We need to take her to the bunker with us. Tell me you managed to get through to her?” Dean almost pleaded with Sam.

“I don’t know man. I tried, and I think I made some headway but I don’t know if she’s gonna agree to come with us so soon.”

Sam didn’t get the urgency in Dean’s expression and figured there was probably more to the story. So, he asked him.

“Cas thinks she might be in danger. That it wasn’t just a coincidence that we found her on the same hunt as us. Sammy, if anyone got wind of this…” Dean trailed off as a look of absolute terror came over his face. Sam felt the fear in his bones too, but for once he had to be the rock. So, he steeled himself and gripped Dean’s shoulder tighter, grounding him.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll keep her safe,” he promised.

“Keep me safe from what?”

Dean looked behind Sam and saw Y/N standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at them for an answer.

Dean looked back at his brother and his face reflected the same thought that was currently running through Dean’s head. Shit. Chapter 6

TAGS:

@vicmc624​ @buttercookiemachoman​ @carisi-sonny​ @zizzlekwum​ @geekqueen5​ @mondefantastique​

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[yodawgiherd]

Too Close For Comfort pt.2

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Second part of the "annoying couple" AU hope that you'll enjoy it :)

Armin liked Eren. Armin liked Mikasa. Armin hated them together.

Was he overreacting? Hell no. Don’t believe him? Fine.

Let’s play a little scene then.

A movie was coming out, but not just any movie. It’s a movie from a series that both Eren and Armin used to watch religiously, a continuation of a long saga that had them on the edge of their seats. Armin was counting days until it comes out, and the second it hit the streaming platforms his heart doubled its beat rate. Then again, an event like this shouldn’t be experienced alone. He and Eren had watched every part of the saga up until now, and it would be rude not to make a little watch-together. So, Armin picked up a phone.

Eren was ecstatic same as Armin, immediately agreeing that he will come over in the evening. Sadly, he can’t go right now, because he is with Mikasa in the gym, and:

“You know that I can’t cut our training Ar, we need it for the fights.”

There it is again. Our training. We need it. It’s only Mikasa who does martial arts, not Eren, but apparently, they are no longer separate individuals. But fine, Armin was hyped for the movie and willing to wait a few hours.

Before you ask, no – it was not rude not to invite her too. Mikasa watched one of the movies with them, and her comment of: “Man, this is kinda dumb.”, almost made Armin explode. She, who still rewatches the Twilight saga from time to time, had the gall to call another movie stupid. Armin seethed, and it didn’t get better because the ultimate simp that Eren is, he only nodded and said: “Ye, it doesn’t make sense sometimes.”

Heresy.

Ok, all right, hopefully Mikasa will be exhausted from the gym and she will want to relax on her own, maybe go for a swim in the pool at Eren’s house. She loved that pool but Armin had his issues with it, ever since he caught the two of them having sex in it once. Call him a prude, but Armin had no intention of swimming in water tainted by little Erens, if you catch his drift. And sure, the pool had filtration and whatnot, but still…

Chasing that horrible memory out of his mind, Armin made the preparation. Popcorn, drinks, snacks, the couch in just the perfect distance from the TV. Everything must be the best because this movie will be the best.

Ah, there’s the door.

Yet when Armin opened, his heart fell to his stomach and the smile was hard to keep. Eren was there, looking excited as ever, but the goth visage next to him was also present.

“Sorry that it took us so long,”, Eren hugged him, “Miki was doing her make-up.”

She giggled and poked him in the ribs, he caught her hand to press a kiss to the knuckles, and Armin was once again feeling like a third wheel on a date. Despite all this, the blond was a little bit hopeful. Maybe Mikasa will keep silent for once and lets him borrow Eren for a few hours. Maybe everything can work out.

So, Armin smiled and nodded and ushered his welcome guest ( and his plus one) into the living room. They fell together on the couch in the most customary positions – Armin in one corner, Eren in the middle, and Mikasa in the other, her legs picked up and resting in her boyfriend’s lap. With a click, the movie began.

It was fine at the start. Mikasa cared not for the movie, but she was on her phone, probably browsing Twitter or Pinterest or something, looking for new outfit ideas. The movie was amazing too, and Eren’s eyes were glued to the screen, his gasps in sync with Armin’s. That bliss lasted for about an hour and a half, and Armin couldn’t be happier. But then….

With a sigh, Mikasa pocketed her phone, her eyes sliding towards the TV. Just like that, the alarms went off in Armin’s head, because Mikasa was bored and that is bad, bad news. In a faint attempt to prolong his happy time, he asked her if she could go and grab a few more drinks from the fridge, knowing that there are none. She smiled and agreed, coming back to announce what Armin already knew.

“You’re out, there are no more.”

“Oh but that’s a shame.”, Armin lied through his teeth, “Would you be so nice to go buy some?”

She smiled and said sure, only pausing to press a quick kiss to Eren’s cheek. He mumbled something like “I love you babe” and then she was gone, letting Armin blow out the breath he was holding.

In this story, Mikasa was portrayed as the villain, but that’s NOT how Armin felt about her. She was a great girl, an amazing friend, and overall one of the best people that he knew. It’s that her inseparableness from Eren was driving Armin up the wall. Successfully pulling them apart with his innocent request, the blond settled into the couch, intent on enjoying the rest of the movie with Eren.

Curse Mikasa and her perfect physique.

She was back in fifteen minutes, not the hour that Armin expected, apparently jogging the entire way there and back. With a thin sheet of sweat to prove it, that she ran with several kilograms in her backpack, Mikasa quickly washed her face and was seated on the couch again, not even pulling her phone out this time. And like that, Armin’s movie party began to crumble.

It started with light touches on Eren’s nape, her black nails gently scratching the sensitive skin there. He leaned into the touch, a stupid smile spread across his face, and Armin wanted to punch him for that. They exchanged a few whispers, a few giggles, and then she was climbing into Eren’s lap as it was her rightful place. Five minutes later, Eren couldn’t care less about the movie.

The sounds of their aggressive make-out session were invading Armin’s ears, no matter how hard he tried to block it out. The strange sucking sound, the way Mikasa craned her head back and giggled when Eren planted kisses on her pale neck, her long hair creating a midnight curtain behind her. Because they were seventeen and a pair of horny teenagers, it did not end there. Risking a quick peek to the right, Armin saw that one of Eren’s hands was on Mikasa’s ass, bunching her short skirt between his fingers. It rode up, revealing the naked skin covered by black panties and fishnets, and Armin was feeling sick.

Objectively speaking, it was a very aesthetically pleasing ass. Mikasa went hard on her leg days, and it showed, but it didn’t feel right to the blond. She was practically his sister, and he had no intention of ogling his sister’s ass, no matter how perfect it was. With Eren being his brother, more or less, it was like having his sister being groped by his brother while their tongues are cramming into each other’s throats and…

Wait no, that came out wrong. They were very far from Alabama.

Differently then – it was his best friend kissing his other best friend (female), being loud and obnoxious about it, and all Armin wanted was to watch the movie. In his corner, he prayed that this is it, that they won’t nudge the clothing aside and go at it right here because the way Mikasa’s hips ground into Eren’s suggested that it wasn’t that far off. Please no. God, please no.

They didn’t.

Another hour of suffering later, the movie was done. Eren left with a stupid smile, holding Mikasa’s hand and looking like he just received a beating. All the black smudges on his face could easily be mistaken for bruises. Armin, who had a faint feeling that his movie night was nothing but foreplay to them, put the movie to play again, intent on enjoying the second half without the embarrassing sounds coming from his couch.

There. Convinced? No? Okay then…

What pissed him off next was the evolution of Eren into the ultimate simp for Mikasa. At first, it was a joke only, something Jean would say to piss him off, but as years progressed the joke was slowly but surely easing into reality. Mikasa wasn’t any better, Annie claimed when they were complaining to each other over the phone, and Armin wondered if a woman could be called a simp too.

A few proofs, if you will:

Proof 1: Eren and Jean were playing videogames at his house. Jean was losing for once, so Eren kept teasing him, but its all in good spirit and the games were getting more and more competitive. But then, a phone rang.

“Hi, Mimi, what’s up?”

If there was a word Jean would like to erase from a dictionary, it would be Mimi.

The rest of the conversation was quick, and Eren hung up with a stupid smile on his face. That expression was known to all his friends because he wore it anytime when being around Mikasa.

“I have to go.”

The controller cluttered on the table, the door closed, and he was gone.

Proof 2: Mikasa never skipped her training, and Annie liked that about her. Yet today would end such tradition because in the middle of their sparring Eren walked into the gym. Mikasa’s concentration took a nosedive out of the window, Annie got pissed, and Eren offered that he will take his girlfriend out for ice cream. She changed in about a minute and was gone, forcing Annie to take her frustration out on the punching bag.

It didn’t survive her wrath.

Proof 3: This was supposed to be a scouting mission, Sasha and Connie took the two dorks to see how Niccolo, Sasha’s new favorite cook, was doing in the restaurant he worked in. The test was about food but it got ruined as soon as the appetizers came in. Because instead of eating and rating it, like normal humans, Mikasa and Eren began feeding each other tiny bites, interlacing the food with kisses, and overall just being the cringiest and most annoying couple that there is. Connie excused himself, saying that he needs to throw up, and Sasha followed, knowing that the lunch was ruined.

They grabbed a disappointing burger together, both agreeing that taking Eren and Mikasa to any social occasion is a waste of time.

Proof 4: This was a study session, a thing that they were doing together for a long, long time. Armin was smart, Mikasa was bright, and Eren was determined to catch up. Usually. Now, everything was different. Ever since they changed from kids to teenagers and eased into intimacy, they were insufferable. Even studying was impossible because while Mikasa was eyeing the textbook, at least in the start, Eren very successfully distracted her by putting his head on her shoulder and kissing her neck. Soon the book was forgotten, clattering on the ground, while they tumbled together on the bed, lost in each other. Recognizing the situation, Armin made a swift exit, closing the door just in time because a second later Mikasa’s black bra thumped into the wood.

Proof 5: Now they were all together, doing one of the things that Mikasa enjoyed. A dark magic séance, with an Ouija board between them, the goth taking the lead since she is the only one who knows anything about this stuff. Armin was bored because he is a man of science and not ghosts. Sasha was eating chips from under the table and Connie was doing his best to steal them unnoticed. Jean looked surprised that he’s even here, unsure what came over him to agree when Mikasa asked him to attend. And Eren? Eren was staring at her like she’s made of gold, hanging on every word she says.

Following her instructions, they put their hands on the triangle, waiting for the séance mistress to call out to the ghosts. She did so, muttering some spells under her breath too, and then it was the time to ask a question. Was it something funny? Was it something genuinely interesting?

Nope.

“Who does Eren like the most?”, was her query, and Armin could hear the collective groan that ran around the table.

Surprising exactly no one, the triangle starts moving, spelling out Mikasa’s name. Now if he’s being honest, Armin couldn’t see anyone actively doing it, but it must be her – she has enough strength in her fingertips to drag them all. A few more tugs later, her name was complete, and a huge grin spread on the goth’s black lips.

“I knew it!”, she giggled all excited over nothing, leaning over to kiss her boyfriend, who abandoned the board in favor of holding her against him.

It’s way too long to be a thank-you kiss, way too loud, and Jean couldn’t take it anymore. He was gone as the first person, but before Sasha could discreetly follow Mikasa broke away from Eren, eyeing everyone.

“So, what do we ask next?”

Enough? Enough.

Or no, there was one more thing that Armin despised. It’s Eren talking about his intimate life.

Growing up together, any sort of decency sense disappeared, and it certainly didn’t help that Eren wanted to boast, since he was boning the hottest girl in the whole town.

Armin heard it all. He heard about their first time, he heard about the first time Mikasa was on top. He heard about the different positions they tried. One day, he was dumb enough to ask why does Eren have bruises on his neck. What he got was a fifteen-minute presentation when Eren described just how tight Mikasa can squeeze with her thighs when he makes her come on his face.

Armin wanted to die every minute of that speech.

Look, he was happy for them, but he didn’t need to hear it. He didn’t need to know that Mikasa bought handcuffs and they are using them in the bedroom. He didn’t need to hear that Eren is planning to gift her a riding crop for Valentine’s, because they both adored the spice.

No, just no.

All these events, all these humiliating experiences culminated into a desperate meeting of everyone save for those two, where they thought about what to do.

“We have to make an intervention.”, Jean said, holding his head in his hands, “This is not normal.”

“They are dating for like what, nine years now?”, Sasha counted, “It wasn’t that bad before, what happened?”

“The sex.”, Armin deadpanned, having his sources, “It’s the sex.”

The only thing that Eren could talk about lately.

“They are not even two people anymore.”, Connie thought out loud, “It’s like they merged into a single entity. Eren and Mikasa became…. Mikeren?”

“I’m all for the merge idea, but your name sucks.”, Jean laughed “I have a better one – Erekasa.”

A few more ideas flew here and there, each dumber than the other until Armin got one.

“Eremika?”

“Yea that’s good.”

“Not bad.”

“I can see that…”

“Okay!”, Armin proclaimed, “So let’s plan this Eremika intervention. It’s cool that have each other, but not everyone gets the love of their life when 9 years old.”

“Hear hear.”, Jean agreed.

They planned everything. Set up a date, gathered, and waited until the two came home, ready and willing to unload their years of frustration on them.

But… they didn’t show up.

Later, Armin would find out that they didn’t come because Eremika was having an ice-cream date. With no mental capacity to do this again, because a small part of him felt like an asshole for even trying to set it up, the intervention squad fell apart.

It did get better, with time and space, because Eren and Mikasa grew a little bit older and a little bit wiser. It did nothing to diminish the flames of their passion, but they were no longer so obnoxious about it. And looking at them now, Armin could only wish that he would someday find love so beautiful as theirs.

*raise a glass*

To Eren and Mikasa!

“All right, this should be good.”

Looking over the paper, Armin frowned.

“Maybe too long though, I should…”

Re-reading what he wrote, the blond erased a few parts, shortening the text. After all, the speech should not be that long, he was not here as a star of the show.

A knock on the door interrupted him, and then there was a familiar brown-haired head peeking in.

“Hey Ar, you ready?”

Pocketing the paper, he nodded at his friend.

“I hope that I won’t let you down with the speech.”

“Please…”, Eren’s grin was still the same, even after all these years, “There’s a reason why I chose you to be my best man, you never disappoint.”

Following the groom, Armin soon arrived back in the hall where the reception was taking place. Eren slid back into his seat, automatically reaching out to intertwine his fingers with his now-wife, wearing that same stupid smile he always had. Armin remained standing, clearing his throat, and feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Well, here goes nothing.

“I liked Eren. I liked Mikasa. I hated them together…..”

The plane gently hummed all around them, carrying the newlyweds towards the location of their honeymoon. A private island, owned by Krista’s too-rich father, one he so generously borrowed them. Ignoring the empty seats, Mikasa was curled in Eren’s lap, head tucked under his chin, and neither of the two couldn’t be happier. Still, a single tiny thing was worming around in Eren’s mind.

“Mrs. Yeager?”, he got Mikasa’s attention, making her smile go even wider.

She loved when Eren called her that, although their full legal name was Ackerman-Yeager now. Equality was always an important part of their relationship.

“Can you believe that they had an intervention for us?”, Eren continued, “Were we really that obnoxious when dating?”

Mikasa thought about it for a moment. Thought about all the friends she stood up, all the events she left to be with him, all the times Armin had to witness their kisses. Knowing the answer, she giggled as she lied out loud.

“Nah.”

[wingedchildqueen]

Thunderstorm Kisses

Well my god. I wrote this five years ago, under my old tumblr account that I deleted by mistake and thought I had lost it forever, as I had also lost the laptop I typed it on. I suddenly remembered the name of it and took a chance searching it up and what do you know. Tumblr aint completely useless. The post still exists even though the account is dead. This is a dead fandom, I’m quite aware but I’m posting it here for documentation sake and for any lucaya fans who may be still floating around on this god forsaken platform. Much love and happy reading. P.S My writing has gotten better since this was written (God I hope) lol but I have not edited or altered anything because I think my 18 year old self's writing style should be left as it is for the sentimentality of it all. Warning: This is so cringy, cheesy and teeny boppy (if that's a thing) eeekk

He’d always wondered what she tasted like. If her kisses would be as electric as the thunderstorm in her eyes.  He knew it was wrong to have these thoughts when he had been in a relationship with her best friend for almost two years, and he loved Riley, he really did. But when this girl  was always in his face , challenging him, teasing him and threatening him relentlessly, all he could do was stare down at this raging blond fury, and over time he happened to notice that she had the pinkest lips he had ever seen, almost perfectly shaped, with a permanent smirk that was always directed at him and he began to wonder what they tasted like.

He would catch himself thinking about her at the most random times. Strawberry lips and sunshine hair would flood his mind and afterwards he would hate himself for it because he knew he should be thinking about warm chocolate eyes and chestnut hair, but it was hard to do that when a sea of electric blue always invaded and washed away these thoughts.

After almost two years of letting her verbally and physically abuse him, he had finally begun to fight back. Not because he was sick of it, or because he wanted to hurt her, but because he knew she liked when he did, and he would do anything to see that fire in her eyes intensify. The first time he had actually fought back, by responding to one of her verbal jabs with a very clever remark in his opinion, her eyebrows had shot up in surprise and he was not sure if he should stay or run from her wrath, but surprisingly she had smiled. Though, he could not have been sure, because it had only lasted for an instant, until her face fell back to its usual smirk and she proceeded to call him one of her ever creative names in response.  He noticed that she smiled a lot, especially with Riley, but he also noticed that a lot of her smiles were always a little too hard, or with a little too much teeth and they never really reached her eyes.  He had never seen someone so committed to assuring the happiness of their best friend. She would sell her soul for Riley. Riley’s happiness was Maya’s occupation and he wished that she realized her happiness was important too and sometimes he would want so badly to tell her she was worth everything and more, and she deserved the world  but he could not do that. They would be no windowsill conversations between them, no heart to hearts because he was Ranger Rick and she was his girlfriend’s best friend. And that was that.

He found her crying one time, underneath a staircase at school. He had never seen her cry before. The school was nearly empty and Riley had had cheerleading practice.  He was not sure what to do at first, if he should just walk away and call Riley, but then a sob came from her that nearly broke his heart, and never in his life had he felt such  a need to  fix someone. She sat in the corner of the staircase, her knees drawn to her chest and her face in her hands, her hair cascading down her shoulders. Her shoulders shook and his insides hurt. He didn’t think she knew anyone was  looking at her so he called her name. She remained in the same position and he called her name again. No response. She had to have heard him. She probably thought if she didn’t acknowledge him he would eventually go away but he refused to do anything of that sort. Without a second thought, he walked towards her tiny figure and slid down the wall next to her. He felt her body tense and then put his arm around her, pulling her into him. She lay stiff in his arms but he held on. After a few minutes he felt her finally relax against him and her head fell heavily against his shoulder. Her sobs had subsided but she still shook a little. His grip tightened and he rested his head against hers. Never did someone fit so perfectly in his arms. He heard her sigh, a sigh that sounded like it was filled with so much world weariness. They never spoke of it afterwards, it was as if it had never happened and though she had never told him to, he knew he was not supposed to tell Riley that he had found her crying. It was an unspoken agreement. The only acknowledgment that he got that had proven what had happened had not been a figment of his imagination was when the very next day their eyes had locked briefly across their lunch table with Riley and Farkle in the cafeteria and she had given him a small smile. Of gratitude? He couldn’t be sure but he thinks it was probably the most genuine smile he had ever seen on her face, even though her lips had only slightly turned upwards, but no matter how small, it had gotten to her sea glass eyes.

He could feel there dynamic slowly changing. He wasn’t sure he could say they were becoming friendlier with each other but they were becoming…something more than just two teenagers who tolerated each other for the sake of a mutual friend. They no longer needed Riley to be there to feel comfortable in each other’s presence. One day, all four of them, him, Riley, Farkle and Maya, were supposed to meet at “Topanga’s” to hang out but it had just ended up being the two of them as Farkle had ditched them to hang out  with the AV club and Riley had to babysit Auggie at the last minute. He would have thought that Maya would have left to go and help Riley with Auggie but surprisingly she had stayed and it was then he had found out that she was a really good listener. Sitting opposite each other in one of the booths, with her hands clasped together on top of the table she listened as he told her about Texas sunsets, and how beautiful the horses looked when they ran together in the fields and how he had always woke up at five every morning to do things around his grandparents farm. He told her how much he missed his old home and his family  and how sometimes New York could be so suffocating with all its skyscraper buildings and millions of people. Not once did she call him a name or interrupt him as he told her, she just listened. At the end of it, it was silent for a moment and she just stared at him with her piercing eyes, as if she was searching for something in him. After a moment she leaned back and said to him,

“ Even though here might not feel like home, always remember that we will always be your family, no matter what.” She told him this without her gaze ever wavering from his face and he thinks that that was the moment he started to fall in love with her.

He began to walk her home nearly every day after school especially on the days when they all hung out till dark. The first time he did, he realized how far she lived from Riley’s house, nearly  five blocks and her neighborhood was not exactly the safest, especially in the night. The first few times she fussed about it and told him it wasn’t necessary but   eventually she realized she could not convince him otherwise and it became a pattern. No matter how much she claimed she could take care of herself he always noticed how she would draw nearer to him whenever they walked passed a dark ally or she received a random catcall from a pedestrian across the street. In those moments it would take everything he had within him to prevent himself from enclosing  her hand in his just to assure her that he was right here beside her, that nothing in hell could hurt her with him here. In those walks he found out a lot about her. That her mom changed jobs all the time and worked triple shifts and sometimes days would go by without her seeing her. He learned that her sick grandmother lived with them and that she tried to get home as soon as possible to make her dinner and watch tv with her. He got the impression that aside from Riley, her Grandma was her best friend. Her eyes always lit up when she spoke of her.

One day after almost six months of walking her home, she finally invited him inside. He could see how nervous she was as she fumbled open the door of the apartment. “It’s not much,” she had mumbled to him and he had told her he didn’t care if she lived in a box on the worst alley in New York. She laughed at that and he saw her relax a little. Her laugh was like a  drug to him, and like any addict, whenever he rarely evoked one from her, he found himself on this high. She introduced him to her grandmother who hugged him with a grip so fierce it startled him. He could have seen that she had been beautiful when she was younger. He now knew where Maya had gotten her looks from. Her grandmother had held his hand while sitting on her rocking chair and studied him for a significant amount of time, with eyes very similar to Maya’s. She then turned to Maya and announced that it was abnormal for a boy to have such a beautiful face. He laughed and then heard Maya scoff behind him. He turned to her and winked and she rolled her eyes. She walked towards the small kitchen and he swore he glimpsed a smile that she tried to hide behind her hair. He helped her make dinner, despite her refusal, and though it was only Mac and cheese, it was probably the best meal he had ever had as he ate next to her on the couch in the living room, opposite her grandmother as they watched some Spanish soap opera with no english subtitles. Though he had no idea what they were saying he laughed along with Maya and her grandmother and he thinks this was the happiest he had ever seen her.  Afterwards he stood next to her in the kitchen by the sink as she washed the dishes and he dried and in that moment he felt like this was something he would like to do for the rest of his life, not just wash dishes, but just stand next to her,  unconsciously bumping shoulders, and brushing fingers, as she passed the dishes to him, that sent shivers down his spine.

He helped her make dinner at least three times a week and her grandmother loved him. She would pass him worried looks  whenever her grandma barely touched her food, which was most nights, and he would fix the antenna on the television on the nights they tended to get a lot of static. He looked forward to these nights, more than anything else and though she would never admit it, he didn’t know how grateful Maya was for him coming. He made her nights less lonely.

One night, just after they had washed the dishes, they heard thunder rumble outside and in a few minutes there was a full out storm raging outside. They stood by the window and watched as lightning streaked the sky outside. He felt her turn her head to watch him and he met her gaze. She shrugged her shoulders and turned on her heel, heading for her room. How he knew that that was her way of giving him permission to stay the night? He wasn’t sure, but at some point they had begun to understand each other without the use of words. He stood still for a moment and eventually followed her into the room where she had already thrown a sheet and pillow on the floor for him. He told her that he could sleep on the couch but she just shook head, mumbling something about her grandma groaning in the night and he would never get any sleep on the couch.  

Later on, they lay in the dark, with him on the floor and Maya on her bed. They lay in silence and he listened to her breathing and thought of a lot of things. He thought of Riley, innocent Riley, who was probably sleeping and he felt guilty because she was so kind, and beautiful and loving and he didn’t deserve any of it as he lay on the floor of her best friend’s bedroom, her best friend who he was falling in love with one Spanish soap opera at a time. And then he thought of Maya, and everything she was, and how brightly she burned in this black and white life she did not deserve and how underneath the entire tough façade she put on at school she was just a girl trying to hold it all together the best that she could with a sick grandmother and an almost absent mother and he thought of how he so much wanted to give her a life she deserved.

He heard ruffling of sheets and then the thudding of feet landing on the floor and the next thing he knew she was lying next to him. There was absolutely no physical contact, and they both just lay there, staring at the ceiling and he could feel her warmth, so close to him, part of her hair, which was fanned out on the floor tickled his neck. He turned on his side to look at her and she mirrored him and they both lay staring at each other intently. He fell asleep  drowning in a sea of blue.

They didn’t talk about how the next morning they woke up wrapped up in each other, feet intertwined and his arms around her and her face in his neck. They didn’t talk about how they lay there for a few moments, without moving, even though they both were already awake and should have long detangled. Those things remained unspoken.

He could feel Riley beginning to suspect something. Innocent Riley who should not have to suspect these kinds of things. He wasn’t sure exactly what had made her aware of it, maybe it was the lingering glances between him and Maya in the cafeteria or the fact that Maya taunted him less and less these days or that he and Maya stood a little too close to each other by the lockers. She could feel her eyes on him at certain times, especially when they hung out together as a group and he couldn’t help but feel terrible. It wasn’t as if they had kissed or anything but he could feel Riley’s eyes burning into him and feared that she could see into his mind and see exactly what he was thinking. Maya, Maya, Maya.

He knew Maya could feel her suspicion too and they cut down his number of visits to once a week as much as he hated it. It wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong even though, in reality they really were.

One afternoon, both him and Maya stood at Riley’s locker waiting for her to finish cheerleading practice. They had begun to laugh about something, something entirely stupid but it had him gasping for breath as he laughed and she bent over holding her stomach. They were a mess, even though whatever it was had not even been that funny. He steadied her from toppling over with laughter and she leaned against him heavily. Eventually they calmed down, leaning against the lockers with their shoulders pressed against each other. He looked at her, her hair an absolute mess and laughed, gently pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear and smoothing down the rest with his two hands. She smiled as he did this and suddenly there faces were so close to each other and he could feel her breath on his face  with the scent of peppermint and she was so close and so warm and……

He heard someone clearing their throat and there stood Riley, her hands clenched at her sides and they both straightened up. He hated being responsible for that look of hurt in her eyes. Maya looked down at her shoes and he felt sorry for her as well.  She had been trying so hard , all her life, to protect her friend from the hurt of the world and here she was, the person to hurt  her, sealed and delivered.

Him and Riley’s three year relationship ended that night over the phone with a lot of silence and sharp words from her side of the conversation. You would think after three years he would feel hurt and be mourning the loss if his girlfriend, but instead, he felt free. He called Maya but she did not answer the phone. He tried a few more times but it went straight to voicemail.

He thought that maybe she just felt bad about the entire Riley situation and that at school he would assure her that everything was alright and that Riley was not even that mad anyways, but for three days she didn’t show up to school and he felt a panic rise in him. He didn’t ask Riley because she still wasn’t talking to him and obviously Farkle, his supposed best friend was taking her side. She still would not pick up her phone and with nothing else to do he found himself walking towards her apartment after school. He knocked on her door loudly and anxiously. There was no response. Where was she? He knocked again and shook the handle only to find that the door was open. The pace of his heart increased rapidly and his palms began to sweat. Why was her door open and why did he suddenly feel so scared? He slowly pushed open the door and there she sat on the couch, in front of the television that blasted a Spanish soap opera. As familiar as this scenario was to him, he could not help but feel something was missing. Only then did he realize the empty rocking chair and the door to her grandmother’s room that was wide open showcasing  a stripped mattress and boxes on the floor for packing. Everything connected and his eyes fell back to her on the couch, knees drawn to her chest and unseeing eyes glued to the television. If he looked closely he could have seen that her hands trembled as they wrapped around her legs. He could see that she was trying desperately to hold herself together.  “Oh Maya,” he said and he dropped his book bag to the floor and made his way to the couch. He enveloped her into his arms and this time she didn’t tense but completely melted into him. She buried her face in his chest and he rested his chin on her head, smoothing his hand over her hair and she cried and shook and soaked his t-shirt with her tears. And in that moment he held her together.

He held her hand at the funeral and stayed with her at the grave until everyone else  left so she could say her goodbyes without the whole world to witness and just him, and he was not allowed to stay because he didn’t matter, but because he did. He took her for ice cream afterwards instead of them going back to the apartment to be surrounded by sad stories and the sickening smell of flowers. He tried to make her laugh and she appreciated  it even though the most she could muster was a bitter smile. They stood on the sidewalk outside the ice cream shop and he held her hand tightly and whispered to her that it was all going to be okay and she rested her head on his shoulder. Death sucked, but it sucked a little less when you had someone to hold onto.

The first time he kissed her, they were on her fire escape. They had started to sit there a lot now because watching Spanish soap operas just really was never the same anymore. He was telling her about the stars in Texas and how when you looked up at night you could see billions of them dotting the sky unlike the too bright city of New York that drowned out the night sky. They lay on their backs looking at the sky and he had challenged her that she probably could not even count twenty stars in New York’s night sky. Of course she had looked at him determinately and started to count, hell bent to find twenty-one stars, the one extra just to make him look like an ass. And of course she did count twenty one stars exactly and she raised her arms in triumph above her head and then turned to give him the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. This smile met her eyes and lit up her entire face, and she was brighter than any Texas sky. He took her face in both his hands and kissed her.  She tasted like coffee and strawberries and Spanish soap operas and night skies and he loved her so much his heart hurt. She pulled away from him and looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He nodded his head in response to her unasked question and pulled her back in and his hands threaded through her sunshine hair. Her hands wrapped behind his neck and their bodies fit in  ways that was too perfect too describe.

He no longer had to wonder if her kisses were as electric as the thunderstorm in her eyes. They were. And she tasted like everything he could ever want and in her arms and lost in her lips, he knew;

He was home

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (12)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

WARNING: This chapter include a rather disturbing scene that is an organ exit, specifically, the intestines and...Other things. If you are a sensitive potato, I apologize for the potential disgust or potential nightmare following this passage. But if you are one of those who has already seen much worse with the saga Saw or Leatherface ... I don't know what to say.  ('-') Well then... Have a good read!

***

Do you like to go out at night, when the starry sky honors you with its presence? It's always a fascinating show and it's even more so when a shooting star or an aurora borealis appear. For some, it's the perfect view, the perfect time to show your feelings to the person you love. For others, it’s the spirits of those who have left us who, from heaven, look at us and protect us. And for the Nordics, the aurora borealis is the bridge that connects Midgard and Asgard.

But tonight, it was just a starry sky. A beautiful and mesmerizing starry sky that Danny was looking, leaning against his van. If he had a cigarette on him, he would have smoked it while watching the sky. But Danny wasn't a big fan of cigarettes, in fact he didn't like it at all. He didn't understand why people were ruining their health with such a poison. And the same was true for alcohol. He had no more than two drinks. He had already had the bitter experience of both too many times with his parents.

Hmph. His "parents." Danny calls them his tormentors instead. He remembers his “life” with his parents, his HELL’S life. Since he was young, Danny’s parents treated him like a dog, beating him and insulting him every time for nothing. He did everything to have the attention and love that a child must have. But he received nothing but hatred and disgust from them. His father was an alcoholic and a huge smoker. His mother smoked very little but was obsessed with religion.

For them, Danny was just a mistake, an unwanted child that they had to treat as such. And that's what they did. And if he thought he would find solace in making friends... he was wrong. His classmates made fun of him, and he found himself alone... always alone. He always avoided problems, but when he had to defend himself from the bullies of his school... He did. And if his parents played the comedy in front of the teachers, once at home, Danny was beaten to the point of losing consciousness once.

His years of college and high school were no better... but no worse either. In high school, he had managed to make friends, with whom he often made the wall to go and have fun at night. At that time, he no longer feared the wrath of his parents, especially his "father". He was a cute little boy when he was a child, and as a teenager he was a handsome boy, who attracted a lot of attention. His current appearance, apart from size, has not changed since.

How many girls wanted to go out with him? hundreds. How much did he have been in a relationship? Just two. And one of those two relationships ended badly. Yet he remembered an evening at the fair where he and his friends consulted a fortune teller. He didn't believe in this stuff but it was always a good time to have fun.

“Your life has been nothing but sadness and suffering my boy. But soon, a new life will be offered to you and one day you will finally find the one that is linked to you. The chosen one of your heart, is not here young man, but elsewhere.” she said. He remembers smiling, holding a laugh so as not to offend the old woman. But later, one of his visions proved correct.

“Where do you think you're going like that, you dirty little jerk?! You're not going anywhere! you hear me??” His Dad shout, beating him again.  

But this time... It had to stop. He had struck him in return, with a force he did not know himself. Her mother squeaked when she saw her husband on the ground, slightly frightened but still angry.

“I've done everything. Absolutely EVERYTHING to have even a little love! AND WHAT DID I GET?! ONLY BEATINGS AND INSULTS! ... But it's over. I get out of here and believe me that you will have NOTHING of me. You can both go to hell. I hope you die in the worst way there is in this f****ng world.”

And since that day, he has never felt so free and so alive. But what this fortune teller told him always kept him in mind. And if that person with whom he was related... the chosen one of his heart... was simply... You?

Since you both met, you are the only person who has been so pleasant, innocent and... kind to him. Of course, you’re acting like this because he was acting as Jed. But if Jed had never existed, if he had only been himself... Would it have been the same thing?  

Maybe... that you'd be in a relationship. He would love you as much as you would love him. He'd protect you, do anything to make you happy. Of course, he would never tell you about his... second "job." But what if you get sick? To the point of ending up in the hospital and dying just like...

“Danny...” He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to remember that. NEVER again.  

“Come on Danny. Stay focused. You can’t screw all you've made until now.” He whispers to himself before he puts his Ghostface’s mask on.  

He faced Mike's house. Certainly, Mckellan had to die first on the list but... the desire to eviscerate Mike was stronger, more enticing, more... Exciting. Danny licked his lips, thinking about how he was going to take care of his next victim. He had prepared everything, orchestrated and imagined the faces of the unfortunates who would find his corpse.

He's going to pay. Oh yes, he's going to pay SO MUCH for all the humiliation that Danny has endured since he started working at Roseville's Gazette. He's going to regret every fucking word he's said about him. Every fucking blow he's given her. And his attempt to strangle him... in front of everyone... will be the fatal blow that Danny will return to him.

Danny took a gift package and sneaked up to Mike's house. Even if he knows that at this time, everyone is asleep in this neighbourhood, it is better to be careful of a potential walker. He had parked in the same place as last time; he knew that no one ever went there.

He reached the kitchen window and saw it slightly open, so he took advantage of this opportunity to enter the interior without making any noise. He immediately walked to the basement, which was right in front of the kitchen, and went downstairs, realizing to the sound of the water that Mike was in his bathroom, taking a shower. Just perfect.

He rediscovered Mike's "playroom", the one in which he practiced his... disgusting and twisted fantasies. And he's the one we call f****ng psycho? Hmph, Danny found the champion in this category. He admits to being a little crooked sometimes, but really far from doing that kind of crap.  

He placed his "gift" on the table before taking an object heavy enough to knock Mike out. As well as a rope to be able to tie him. On the practical side, he didn't need to take anything. Everything was provided to him on the spot, for once.

"How nice you are Mickey... make it easier for me at this point, I would have almost taken you as an assistant ... if you weren’t a fucking pedophile and a drug addict. What a waste. Well, time to call.” Danny said taking out another disposable phone. He hid in a corner of the room, so that Mike would not see him and composed his number. Hoping he got out of the bathroom.

“Hello? Who the f**k is there?” said Mike on the other line. His voice was hoarse and tired. Looks like he smoked more than he should.  

“Hello Mickey...Miss me? I hope so.” respond Danny sneering about this situation.

“You little...motherf***er! I don’t know who the f**k you are but you gonna regret everything you do to me, you little shit!”  

“What a lovely language...Look since you didn't like my previous gift, I brought you another one... He's in the basement. Why don't you open it? I'm sure you'll like this one!”

“Go f**k yourself with your gift! You trapped me once! and it's already too much for me to leave you alive!” Said Mike enraged.  

“You could make an effort Mickey... I bend over backwards to find you a gift to make me forgive and you don't even want to go and see what it is. You're breaking my heart. Too bad... I guess I can send your photos to the authorities... they'll be happy to put you in jail.” Replied Danny getting ready to hang up.

“Rrrrr...Okay Okay ! I'm going to open your gift! You psycho...”  

He heard Mike heading towards the stairs before descending to the basement. the excitement caused Danny to tremble, he was waiting for only one thing: for Mike to open his "gift" and see his reaction before knocking him out. And once attached... the party can begin.

He went deeper into the darkness when he saw Mike advancing towards the table where the gift package was. Danny's hands trembled with excitement as Mike trembled with fear. After a moment of hesitation, Mike finally opened the package and backed away, swearing and holding back from vomiting.  

Remember when I said a "head was going to fall"? Well, a head actually fell. A man's head now stood on this table, and for Mike it was not unknown to him because he was one of his drug dealers, the one who offered him the best drugs.

The head was cut with sharpness and precision worthy of a surgeon. the face was marked by the drug that this man was consuming and dark circles almost as black as coal were plummeting before his eyes. Teeth had been torn off and tongue cut off.

Mike recoiled a few more metres before feeling a hand on his shoulder, when he turned, he had no time to react and received a blow, strong enough to knock him out. Danny looked at his unconscious body, a diabolical smile on his face. He took the rope and a chair, then lifted Mike's heavy body to attach it to it. He weighed his weight the animal!

“Look at this... What a beautiful sight. Ah Mickey... I will make you my most beautiful bloody work the world has ever seen... I'm going to make myself a huge pleasure to cut you pieces into pieces... make you suffer until your last breath.” Said Danny before laughing, thinking about all this.

Mike awoke after 30 minutes and, quickly noticing that he was tied to the chair, he tried to untie the ties. Unfortunately for him, Danny had tightened them up to the max. The latter came up to him, sneering, passing his gloved finger over the blade of his knife.

“Sleep well? I was starting to worry I thought I'd killed you too fast... it would have been a shame after everything I've planned for you... Don't you think so?” He said taking Mike's face with his hand.

“You’re f***ing twisted! You’re a crazy psycho! Let me go! Said Mike giggling in his chair.

“Oh... Not right now. We've just met face to face... I'm not going to shorten this moment so quickly.” replied Danny approaching his knife to Mike’s cheek. “So, do you like my gift? I must admit It wasn’t easy to find him because...He’s like a rat running everywhere in the house to steal some food. But he was so cooperative after I ripped off his tooth and cut off his tongue.

“P-P-Please...Don’t do this! Take everything you want!”

“Everything?” Said Danny before exploding with laughter. “But everything I want is your SCREAMS and you DEATH. After all you did, this is all you deserved. Fair enough don’t you think? But you know what? Since you're going to die... you’ll see your executioner's face.” He replied before taking off his mask.

“Ol...Olsen...”

“Oh, it’s true. My name is NOT Jed Olsen.” He said cutting off each of his hands with a blow, which made Mike scream a lot. “I’m Danny Johnson...The Ghostface. And I'm gonna take a real pleasure to slaughter you for everything you've done to me... You're not going to be a loss anyway. Because unlike you... I don't spend my fantasies on children."

He put on his mask on and thrust his knife deep into Mike's stomach, killing him like a pig. he pulled out the intestines that hung like ropes. he stabbed him many times, piercing his eyes, cutting his virility and his tongue before finishing him off with a sharp blow to the throat. Blood squirted everywhere, and in this show, Danny's crazy laugh was heard, he had nothing to fear, Mike had soundproofed the room for his... Fantasies. No one outside could hear it... and no one was going to come to Mike's house at this hour.

But it wasn't over oh no... He has to finish his work. He took Mike's intestines and cut them into fine pieces before throwing them all over his corpse like confetti that’s thrown at a party. After all, it's a party, isn't it? He took the drug dealer's decapitated head and carefully placed it in Mike's arms with a little message on it: "I, Mike Harris, killed this man without any remorse." And he placed Mike’s d**k on his mouth instead of his tongue which layed on the ground.

“I don't like being robbed of the star Mickey... but I confess that making you look like a murderer on this one makes me laugh a lot... We'll keep you the worst image of your existence, pedophile, drug addict and murderer. Jackpot. Now...Say Cheese!” Said Danny before taking a picture. “One down. There's one left. Sooner or later McKellan...you’ll meet the devil himself. And then... I could focus a little more on my sweet angel.”  

As with every murder, he erased all traces of his passage, and after making sure of it, he left as discreetly as he had arrived. Then he took the road to go home. But before sinking into the arms of Morpheus... A small visit is necessary.

The window of your bedroom was barely open, but that's more than enough for Danny to pass his knife and open the window just enough to pass. You were sleeping peacefully, the blanket almost covering your head but he could still see your face, your little and adorable angel face... He stood frozen in front of you for a few seconds, a smile on his face. Then he took a picture, an umpteenth trophy, an umpteenth memory.

“Don’t worry... Soon, all your problems will disappear... and I'd be the ONLY one to obstruct your thoughts. In a good way. Sleep well, my little sweet star...And never forget...” He said, kissing your forehead. “You’re mine. And only MINE.”

And then he vanished. As if no one had ever entered this intimate place... But little by little... The devil tightens his grip on you. Even if he will continue to scare you... He will do anything to be the only object of your obsessions.

And he won't let anyone near you.

***

(And it’s done! Phew thinking about Mike’s death wasn’t easy but I've made it! Again, I hope you’ll enjoy it like the other ones and if you got some questions or you just want to talk you can! For now, the French potato girl I am will get some rest! have a good week end everyone! See ya!)