#if it was my cat I think I’d be contemplating… well. my parents let me get him because of my depression

[murderkittyz]

The Party - Chapter 3

Content Warnings: Nothing really except how Gramps isn’t feeling great and a spooky moment. This one is a little shorter!

Important notes! In this fic Stardew is set in 1996, the Scream movies exist, at this point in time the main characters are in Highschool. ALL CHARACTERS OF ROMANTIC INTEREST ARE 18+! MINORS DNI

The sun beamed down through the leaves, dappling onto the pathway. Smudge trailed after you, tail held high. The chirping of birds, pattering of paws, rustling of the wind… it was so serene.. You could say a lot of things about your parents’ decision to send you here, but one thing for sure is that it’s a soul healing thing, returning to nature.

The two local kids (how come there were only two?) ran up, the strawberry haired boy squealing about the kitty while the girl quietly trailed behind. “Hey, hey be careful!” You warned, seeing Smudge’s tail puff up.

“Sorry, we, we weally wanted to pet da kitty!” Vincent babbled, blue eyes wide. With the reassurance that, yes, he can pet the kitty as long as he’s careful, he gave Smudge a little pat on the head. You decided to take this opportunity to run into the convenience store without the cat running in. You’d rather die than shop at that sterile lifeless Joja Mart.

You looked through the basic list and your budget, humming. While you browsed and stood in contemplation, a pale hand grabbed your shoulder. With a yelp, you turned.

“Woah there! Hah, you look like you saw a ghost! Sorry about that.” Abigail laughed a bit, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s fine Abs, but don’t scare me like that!” You huffed, to which she gave a light hearted eye roll. “Okay, okay… Say, how come ya ditched last night?” The girl inquired, tilting her head. “Ah well umh, needed to check on gramps. I’ve got a schedule, you know.” You chuckled.

“Well, ‘pose I can’t argue with that.” She shrugged. “Sayyy, wanna come over tonight? Like a sleepover?” Abigail chirped up, seeming suddenly very excited. “Well I’d.. I’d have to check with grandpa, but if he’s fine with it-“ “Cool! See ya tonight!” She smiled, running out the door. Strange. She was acting kinda weird —well, more than she normally is—

You returned to the farm, putting up the groceries. Hearing a creak, you called out “Hey gramps! Do ya mind if I have a sleepover at Abby’s tonight?”

No response.

“Uh, grandpa? You okay? Didn’t fall down the stairs or something, did you?”

No response.

“Grandpa?” You asked, voice a little more nervous.

The front door opened, the elderly man stretching and flopping down into his chair. “Oh! There you are grandpa! Say could I-“ “Now now kiddo! Give ya old man a moment to rest…” A few moments pass. “Now, what’s up?” “I’d like to sleep over at Abby’s tonight, is that okay?”

He took a minute to think before sighing and shaking his head. “I’m sorry kiddo, my back is acting up a lot. I would let ya if I was feeling better.”

You sighed, nodding solemnly. “I understand, grandpa.”

You should probably tell her..

Credits: <3 on Pinterest for the header, @beamer-boy for the footer, beta read by @phebbsl

Tags: @warpedbands @sashiavi

[bbangsoonie]

backdoor

member: jaehyun (hyunjae) genre: fluff (requested) word count: 3,120 synopsis: jaehyun has always been your rival. so when he bets that he could make you fall for him, you can’t back down and say no. but when you’re too confident, you let your guard done.

backdoor: a term used in league of legends; when you secretly attack the enemy’s nexus while they’re focused elsewhere. this is done by sneaking into the enemy base and taking them by surprise

Lee Jaehyun was the cockiest and most annoying person you had ever met. You would think that growing up as childhood “friends” would make you two close. After all, your parents were best friends with his parents.

But no, you and Jaehyun had been rivals ever since you were both enrolled into a tennis club as young children. You always had the upper hand until he suddenly hit puberty and became a lot more physically fit than you. Once he started beating you in nearly every match, he became your #1 enemy.

He had always been super competitive and made everything into a contest. Who could run to the car faster? Who could receive a higher score on the exam? Who could make the other lose their temper first?

With high school came his sudden increase in popularity. It inflamed his ego to the max, which irked you to no end.

Every Valentine’s Day, he would brag about all the gifts and confessions he received. And every White Day, he would compare the numbers to yours.

He was loved by the girls for being a casanova and admired by the guys for his athleticism and gaming skills.

You, on the other hand, could not comprehend why the entire school was infatuated with him. You had your eyes on someone else. Kim Sunwoo. He had caught your attention since the first day of freshman year. Now, as a senior, you were about to graduate without ever making a move.

You were too shy to approach him. You couldn’t even find a common interest to naturally bring up and talk about. All he ever did was make music and play League of Legends.

So you found Jacob during lunch and practically begged him to teach you how to play the game.

“Please please please?” you whined.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t,” Jacob said apologetically. “I have basketball practice every day. Besides, I haven’t played in almost half a year. I’m rusty.”

“I just need you to teach me the basics!”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Sighing, you gave up and slumped in your seat. You poked at the food in front of you with a pout.

“Did I just hear the Y/n ask Jacob to teach her how to play League?” Jaehyun suddenly popped out of nowhere.

“Fuck off,” you rolled your eyes at him as you set your chopsticks down.

“You know, I’m the highest ranked player in our school,” he said smugly. You wanted nothing but to wipe that look off his face.

You ignored him and took a sip of your water. Jacob awkwardly glanced between you and Jaehyun as he tightly held onto his spoon. He could sense another argument coming.

“I can teach you if you want,” Jaehyun offered.

“I don’t want,” you coldly rejected.

“Of course you don’t,” he scoffed. “You’re too afraid to spend time with me because you might realize that you actually like me.”

“Oh please. There are a few things in this world that will never change. The sun rising from the east, the sun setting in the west, and my hatred for you,” you said.

“Well if you hate me that much, then let’s make a bet out of it. The first one to fall for the other’s seducing loses,” he smirked.

Still stuck in the middle, Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You don’t have to accept the challenge if you’re not confident,” Jaehyun shrugged, making you narrow your eyes at him.

A list of pros and cons was being made in your head as you contemplated the crazy suggestion. The logical part of your mind wanted nothing to do with him. You knew that stooping down to his level was childish. You had much better things to do than go along with his bet.

The competitive part of you, however, couldn’t bear to back down. You would have to deal with him flaunting over you and calling you a coward if you didn’t agree to this.

So you disregarded all rationale and crossed your arms with a curt “deal”.

The walk to school the next day was full of complaints as you whined about falling for Jaehyun’s trick and Kevin chided you for it.

“I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea,” Kevin tsk-ed. “He makes your blood boil within seconds. How are you going to hold back from tearing him apart? Never mind flirt with him.”

“I’m already regretting it,” you groaned.

“Speaking of the devil,” Jacob coughed, nudging you.

You looked up to see Jaehyun waiting by the school gates. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and every girl who passed by whispered to their friend about it. To everyone’s shock, he walked up to you and handed you the flowers.

“So it starts now?” you stared at the roses. “You call this seducing?”

“I call this romantic,” he grinned.

Rolling your eyes, you handed Kevin the bouquet and walked away. He awkwardly chased after you as Jacob offered Jaehyun a pat on the shoulder.

“She doesn’t like roses. She thinks they’re cliché,” he said before leaving.

When the dismissal bell rang, Jaehyun was waiting for you outside of your classroom. Hushed whispers erupted again as your classmates tried to figure out why he was being so affectionate to you. It was no secret that you two never got along.

After gathering your belongings, you grabbed your backpack and left without sparing him another glance. Unfazed, he easily caught up to you and slung his arm around your shoulder.

“What? Are you wavering already?” he teased.

“Not a chance,” you scoffed.

“As a part of the bet, I can teach you how to play League. That’s what you wanted anyway. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone.”

You ignored all the incredulous looks you received with Jaehyun by your side as you left the school grounds. You didn’t realize that you weren’t headed home until you stopped in front of a PC Room. Puzzled, you stared at the building in front of you.

“I promised that I’d teach you. Our first lesson starts today,” he said as he dragged you inside.

Your brain was bombarded with a whole new world. You struggled to keep up as he rambled on about bots and gold. He was showing you a demonstration by playing a round but your inability to multitask made it difficult to understand what was going on on the screen.

“My main is Jace and I usually go jungle,” he explained and you pretended to understand by nodding. At your silence, he eyed your expression and chuckled.

“So is Sunwoo the reason why you’re suddenly interested in League?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“How did you know?” you gaped.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice your little crush on him?” he raised a brow.

You were taken aback to say the least. You didn’t think he paid much attention to you other than when he was bored and wanted to mess around.

“Anyway, he usually goes mid as Zed,” he shrugged. “To be honest, the best way for you to bond with him through the game is for him to play ADC and for you to be support.”

“As if I know what all that means,” you frowned.

At that moment, his character died and the screen went gray. You snickered, earning a light flick on your forehead.

“ADC stands for attack damage carry. It’s the champion who usually does the most attacking. They go in the bottom lane with whoever’s playing support. Supports are supposed to aid and heal the ADC. So you would follow and communicate with them.”

“Sounds complicated,” your nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Sounds fun,” he corrected before turning back to the computer.

The next day, Jaehyun surprised you with a small potted plant in front of the gates.

“Since you don’t like roses, I got you a succulent instead,” he said proudly.

Next to you, Kevin giggled and Jacob let out a soft “aww”. Slightly touched yet also slightly embarrassed, you took it from him in a hurry and stormed off.

“You’re slowly getting there,” Jacob laughed as Kevin shot him a thumbs up.

Smiling, Jaehyun watched as they ran to catch up with you. He heard you yell at them after what was probably a teasing remark. You then began to chase Kevin, who ran away shrieking.

After two weeks of spending hours at the PC Room after school, you were starting to get a hang of the game. You found Teemo, who you insisted was a dog (he’s actually a rodent), and gushed over how cute he is.

Jaehyun made fun of your champion choice and shook his head as he explained that Teemo was the most hated character.

“Why? He’s adorable!” you defended. “And I love the little eggs he plants.”

“For the nth time, those are mushrooms! Not eggs,” he exclaimed. “And that’s exactly why everyone hates him. He’s so annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” you shot back.

“Well, Teemo’s not an option right now,” he pointed out.

He was teaching you how to play Howling Abyss that day. And playing ARAM meant your champion would be randomly given.

“Oh! The cute cat is available,” you excitedly clicked.

“That’s Yuumi and that’s actually not a bad choice,” he nodded in approval. “You just have to attach onto me and heal me.”

You hated to admit that you had grown closer with Jaehyun. Only a couple of weeks had passed by since the bet and you didn’t completely despise him anymore.

He gifted you something small each morning, whether it was a plant or piece of bread. He was always waiting for you at the gates. Dating rumors were already circulating the school but you hadn’t forgotten about the bet. You were determined to win it.

Which was why you began to wake up earlier to put on makeup and even complimented him during games. It was easy to make him smile. All you needed to do was throw a lame joke in here and there and he would burst out in laughter.

It was almost suspiciously easy. He was too willing to respond to your advances and never put up a wall.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t get on your nerves. His antics still bothered you to no end.

On the way home, he insisted on feeding you ice cream instead of having you hold it yourself. Except he kept pulling the spoon back when you opened your mouth to eat it.

The first time, you gave him a dirty look. The second time, you punched his arm. The third time, you gave him the finger and walked off after a “fuck you”.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he laughed.

Once again, you were reminded of how immature he was.

“So has there been any progress?” Kevin asked.

It was gym period and all the students were running around in the field. Jacob was playing volleyball with Jaehyun while you and Kevin were sitting on the sidelines.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“It would be the best enemies-to-lovers trope if you two actually end up dating like this,” he commented.

“Never,” you snorted in disbelief.

You had seen Jaehyun ever since he was a snotty little kid. Even back then, he was a mischievous brat. There was no way you could ever see him as anything but that.

The teacher blew his whistle, signaling the end of gym class. You got up, dusted your pants, and skipped down the steps. Unfortunately, you landed wrong and felt a sharp pain in your ankle as you fell down.

After Kevin shouted your name, Jaehyun turned his head to see you on the ground. Without thinking twice, he ran towards you and asked if you were okay. When you couldn’t reply, he put you on his back with Kevin’s help and sprinted to the nurse’s office.

Your heart was beating fast but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why. Was it because of the pain? Or all the attention you were receiving from your classmates?

By the time you reached the office, your ankle was throbbing and swelling up. The nurse was nowhere to be seen so Jaehyun retrieved an ice pack himself and wrapped a towel around it before applying it.

You were sitting on a cot while he was bent down to tend to your wound. His forehead was wrinkled with worry and you stared at him. This was the first time he had ever treated you with such gentleness.

“I don’t think you broke anything but it’s definitely gonna hurt for at least a week,” he winced in vicarious pain.

You suddenly didn’t know how to act around him. You weren’t used to receiving sympathy from him.

“Uh that’s okay,” you coughed to cover up the awkwardness. You’d rather have him make fun of you for being clumsy. But instead, he seemed genuinely concerned for you.

“You should’ve been more careful,” he scolded.

There was something about the way he looked at you. His eyes were no longer playful but you couldn’t figure out what emotions hid behind those eyes.

Those eyes. His eyes clouded your mind. For some reason, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

You found yourself avoiding him as you struggled to organize your thoughts. Or rather, your feelings.

Wanting to distract yourself, you decided to finally talk to Sunwoo. Surely, spending time with him would help you forget about Jaehyun.

So you mustered up the courage to ask him out on a date. To your surprise, he happily agreed and suggested that you watch a movie together. There was a new romcom film that came out and that he had been wanting to watch.

The date wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Sunwoo’s goofiness offset any nervousness and it was fun to be around him. But yet, it also wasn’t as heart fluttering as you thought it would be.

Perhaps you had idealized him too much in your imagination. Your romantic feelings for him dissipated and you saw him as a good friend. Luckily, he felt the same.

However, word about your date had already spread by the time you got to school on Monday. It had reached Jaehyun’s ears and his expression hardened when he saw you laughing with Sunwoo at lunch.

He knew what the ugly feeling in his stomach was. And he wasn’t happy about it. So he reacted in the only way he knew. By clinging to your side and pestering you.

He spent the whole day messing up your hair and being sarcastic. Eventually, you finally snapped and told him to piss off.

“I’ll consider it if you can beat me in tennis today,” he said.

You crossed your arms, wondering what was going on in his head. You hadn’t been able to defeat him since middle school.

“If you can get a single ball past me, I’ll leave you alone,” he proposed. With a huff, you reluctantly agreed. It would be faster to just get it over with.

That was how you two ended up at a tennis court after school. He never went easy on you but he was going especially hard that day. He gave you no breaks and flung the ball back at you with what felt like all his strength. Ball after ball flew past you as he grabbed another one to start again.

“What the hell, Lee Jaehyun?” you yelled across the court. “Why the fuck are you so aggressive today?”

“Are you giving up?” he taunted while bouncing the ball.

“Oh hell no,” you grumbled as you got in position.

Another half an hour passed by with him beating you again and again. You were drenched in sweat and starting to feel sore. But you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you admit defeat.

So you kept going until the ball accidentally hit your shoulder. The amount of force he put into that backhand made you yelp in pain as you dropped the racket.

Startled, Jaehyun ran over to make sure you were okay.

“You just can’t bear to see me win once, can you?” you glared as you shoved his hand away. “You turn everything into a competition and act like you’re superior over me.”

“I-I didn’t mean to do that,” his brows furrowed in guilt.

“Didn’t mean to do what? Make my childhood a living hell by ruining my favorite sport? Use my crush on Sunwoo to trick me into another stupid bet? Confuse me into thinking that you might actually not hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you so clingy?”

“Because I like you!”

His words brought upon silence. The tension in the air was thick as you both stared at each other.

“You’re so dense,” he sighed. “I wanted your attention, okay? But back then, I was a kid and didn’t know how to stay by your side without annoying the hell out of you. And then I didn’t know how to transition out of that.”

He fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt and took a deep breath before continuing.

“This stupid bet was supposed to change our relationship. I was supposed to show you that I’m not as bad as you think I am. That I’m a guy too. That I’ve been in love with you for a whole decade now.”

To say you were surprised would be a massive understatement. All your life, you had been sure that Jaehyun’s purpose in life was to irritate you. So when your heart began to skip around him, you cursed yourself for giving into the hormones that made you see him in a different light. You never thought that the feelings would be reciprocated.

“You don’t feel the same way? At all?” he carefully asked.

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You couldn’t find the right words to answer his question.

“You’re not saying no,” the corners of his lips curved up.

He took a step closer to you and held your cheeks. You felt your heart race at the proximity and froze.

“For confirmation?” his lips ghosted over yours. You barely managed to nod slightly before he closed the gap between you two.

As cheesy as it sounded, you felt sparks fly the moment you had your first kiss. By the time he pulled away, you felt your cheeks heat up.

“So I guess that means I won the bet before it even began,” you joked, making him laugh.

“Yes, yes you did,” he smiled as he hugged you.

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[redrosesartcabin]

So yeah, I wrote the thing based on an anon message for @itsme-star

I made it a Barley x (female) reader (based on my self insert character) fanfic ‘cause I had to be a little self indulgent lmao

I hope you enjoy it! It turned out longer than I had planned xD

——————————————————

The double-decker couch

Barley x (female) reader fanfiction

———

Around three months ago:

Y/n’s boyfriend, Barley Lightfoot, had knocked on her window… with small stones… in the middle of the night:

At first her ear just twitched and the noise had mashed with the dream she was having, but the more the noise repeated, the more her consciousness felt pulled into the physical realm again, and with a groan, she had to face the reality that the noise would not stop until she got up (she already had a suspicion as to who was causing the noise).

With a heavy sigh, y/n forced herself from under her comfortable blanket, before ripping the window open.

‘Of course it’s him’, she thought, looking down at Barley as he waved his hands up at her, somehow wide awake.

‘How much energy can a person have?’, she asked herself, before she motioned with her hands, that she’d come outside.

“What in the world are you doing here?”, she asked as she arrived, whisper-yelling at him.

“Well you know how it is my lady: sometimes one just drives around at night after finishing a campaign of quests of yore and sees the poster of a double-decker bus and then one might think: ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if one could have a couch after that structure?’ After having had thought about a new couch for a while and ‘wouldn’t it be cool, if one might be able to build that with their girlfriend?’”

“I can’t say I relate, though I am impressed by one having the idea”, she said, deliberately accentuating the word ‘one’, as she couldn’t now but smile at her beautiful dork, “And I have to say I love the idea, though I still have to decide whether it was worth waking me up at three a.m… but for now I’ll just say yes, because I love you too much to be mad at you for this”

“I know: I’m irresistible”, he winked, pulling her closer to him and engaging her in a sickeningly romantic kiss.

“As nice as this is, I would still like to catch up on some sleep. We’ll write later and you tell when we should start building”

“I actually thought… you know… that maybe now-”

“Don’t push it”

“Right”

Now:

It hadn’t been easy. First they had to scavenge several junkyards for old couches (because let’s be real: They were both poor college students and buying material or new couches just was too expensive), who weren’t completely busted. Then they had to figure out how to build the thing.

After studying art for a while, where y/n had to do a bunch of installation projects, she had gotten significantly better at building things with woods and such, though she still wasn’t an expert. And whilst Barley also got crafty from time to time, he also wasn’t a master.

But somehow, after sweat, and even a couple of tears after y/n once got her hand stuck under one of the couches, they had finished it: The double decker couch.

“This-”, Barley said, pointing his finger at it, “This is beautiful”.

It was a yellow and a green couch, connected through metal poles and stabilized with old wood planks with two ladders placed on top of it and just enough space between the couches, so that one could sit up straight. It sort of looked like a bunk bed, but with couches.

“It is. It really is”, y/n agreed, looking at her bandaged hand, “totally worth busting my hand”

“Totally worth going through every junkyard in the city”, Barley added.

“Totally worth being awake once for 48 hours”, she added as well.

“This should be awarded some kind of price… maybe I’d also just be happy for some money for a wellness weekend ‘cause my back could really need a nice massage”, Barley groaned, touching the small of his back.

“Hard agree”

They stayed standing there for a while, looking at it, before y/n occurred a question that should’ve occurred to her much sooner.

“So-uhm-”, she started, “what do we actually do with it now?”, she asked

“Sit on it of course. You sit below and I above so I can feed you grapes like you’re a roman emperor”, Barley explained matter of factly.

“That sounds lovely darling but that’s not what I mean”

“What seems to be the issue then?”he asked, a little frustrated. What could she possibly have to say now? After so much hard work?

“I mean… where do we put it?”, she asked with a sincere expression which immediately washed away his annoyance, “because it certainly won’t stay in my parents basement”, she stated.

“It’s certainly more worthy than this old, dusty room with your family's junk. And also because this place is crawling with bugs that I will have to remove every time because you’ll just screech and run away until it magically disappears”

“Hey!”, y/n interjected

“It's true!”

“Ok yeah fair enough, though seriously- where? I also can bet’ya we can’t put it anywhere in our homes either. It probably barely fit under the ceiling”

“Yeah no”

A moment of contemplative silence spread across them.

After a while, Barleys thoughts wandered to the night where he had gotten the idea. He thought about his beloved car-

‘OH. MY. GOD. That’s it!’, he thought to himself.

“I got it!”, he then yelled excitedly, his face contorted into one of the most adorable expressions y/n had ever seen anyone wear. No matter what it would be: She couldn’t but say yes to that smile.

Still she asked, “What’ya got?”

“You know how I got my idea from a poster with a double-decker bus?”, he asked her, still smiling like he had won the lottery

“Yes?”

“And you know how I have a van, right?”

“No”, she answered sarcastically, “I know absolutely nothing about your most prized possession of a van that you called Guenivere the second after you sacrificed your first Guenivere when on a quest-”

“Ok I got the gist”, he chuckled, “but ok hear this: Since I have this wonderful van, this wonderful BIG van-”

“Wait a minute: You really want to put the couch in-”, she interrupted as she realized what he was saying, but got immediately interrupted back as he realized she had caught on

“Yes! I absolutely am”

“Dear lord… but ok I have no better idea, let’s do it”

“YES”

“Barley I am telling you, this is NOT working”, y/n huffed as she let her side of the construction gently land on the ground once again.

“Come on, just one more time!”, Barley pleaded.

“You’ve been saying ‘just one more time’ for an hour!”, she argued, “there is no way around: this just doesn’t fit inside the van. You underestimated Guenivere”

“Hey! There is no underestimating Guenivere! It’s not her fault”, he pouted.

“Ok ok ok... Sorry Gueni”, y/n said, giving the car a sincere pat on one of the back doors. She has gotten used to treating the car similar to a pet, “but seriously: We’ve been trying this at every angle, and as cool as Guenivere is, she can’t magically shapeshift”

“Magically shapeshift”, Barely repeated her last words, suddenly deep in thought, before an “ohhhh”, sound escaped him, “wait here my lady, I’ll be back in a sec”

“O...k”, she said, a little confused.

Five minutes later, she saw Ian storm out of his house, his hands clenched around his magic staff, with Barley closely behind him. “WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?”Ian yelled as he came to a hold, which caused his brother to almost crash into him.

“I need you to make Guenivere big enough so that our self made double-decker couch fits into her”, Barely explained, breathing as though he had just run from death.

For a moment nobody said anything to that before Ian and y/n both shouted

“WHAT?”,at the same time.

“So much for an emergency”, Ian also mumbled, a little annoyed at his brother's antics.

“I mean: If she’s too small, then we can just make her bigger, right?”

“Technically yes but I think you didn’t consider a very small, tiny detail”, Ian commented.

“And what would that be?”, Barley asked irritated, not understanding what the issue was.

“You are aware as a supposed magic expert, that I can’t only enlarge the trunk, right? I would have to make the entire car big, and that would lead-”

“-to the entire street being filled with the car”, y/n finished the thought, apologetically laying her hand on Barleys shoulder, “I’m sorry my love. It was a nice thought”

“Dang it”, Barley breathed out, “I was looking forward to make my own uber-van-couch-double-decker-business”

“Hm”, y/n simply hummed. She had known from the beginning it would probably go south, but his enthusiasm had given her hope.

“Sorry Barley”, Ian said quietly, now feeling bad for having been so harsh beforehand , before slowly heading inside again.

Y/n and Barely sat down on the edge of Guenivere’s trunk, tired and disappointed that it all hadn’t turned out like they wanted as they looked at their creation.

Y/n leaned against Barley’s shoulder, lovingly rubbing her cheek against him like a cat (she loved doing that).

After a while Barley decided he had enough of sulking, standing up to go to the front to put on some good old metal (which luckily she enjoyed too).

As he however returned to the trunk, he noticed some ropes laying around.

He had used ropes last time to tie up some of the material he had bought for their project, so they wouldn’t move around- what if though…

“Ok I’ve had enough”, Barley decided, “I WILL have my double-decker-couch-van for more people to ride with me and my buddies and if its the last thing I’m gonna do!”

“Barley, what are you-”, y/n wanted to ask, but as she saw him pick up the ropes from the trunk floor, she understood, “- Are you sure this will work out?”

“Nope”, he answered truthfully, “but I will surely try!”

She was still skeptical, but at the same time she would try anything with him, and if it meant helping him tie a double-decker-couch to the roof of his van.

“If you believe it can be done, I will too”, she smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “let’s do this!”

It was eight p.m. The sun was almost behind the horizon and the streetlamps threw dodgy looking lights in the middle of the street and kept the corners dark.

But the elven couple, who stood in front of a yellow van with a double-decker couch tied to its roof, couldn't help but see what they had accomplished: Which was accomplishing what, at least the female elf, had thought was impossible… yet again.

“I can’t believe that worked”, Y/n mumbled.

“Told ya”, Barley hushed back.

“Should we drive around? See if anyone is crazy enough to go on a drive?”, she asked.

“You bet we are. And tomorrow… and whenever we can. I’ll be the driver and you the tourist guide.. or maybe some kinda sturdess, after all you’re good lookin’”

“Oh hush”, she giggled, visibly blushing

“And-”, he continued, though not without giving her a good wink after his compliment, “then we’re gonna show the dear people of this town another perspective to life”

“That we can promise”, she laughed, “that we sure can”

[five-rivers]

AU where Danny’s human form has ghostly attributes like fangs, reflective eyes, occasional glowing, echoing voice, etc. What theories do the people of Amity Park make, and which ones are true?

.

“Fenton, correct?” you ask.  You’re a long-term sub.  Ms. Tetslaff unexpectedly had to have major surgery, and won’t be returning to teach for months.  

“That’s me,” said the boy, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning just enough for you to see that, yes, those are vampire fangs.

“You’re going to need to take those out,” you say.  

“Take what out?” he asked, blinking blankly, and do his eyes-?  No, that’s a trick of the light.  

“The vampire teeth,” you respond.  “They’re a safety hazard.  You could swallow them.”

“I’m not wearing vampire teeth.  These are my normal teeth.  They’re just weird.”  To demonstrate, he pulled back his lips with his fingers, showing you the gums.  Sure enough, there are not seams or edges that you can see.  

“Huh,” you say.  “Never mind then.”

.

“It’s the parents,” they said.  “I heard they experimented on him.  They only needed one to carry on their work, you see.”

This might have made sense, except that you’ve met Jazz Fenton, and she’d somehow managed to make her position on her parents’ research, her career aspirations, and her opinions on the city’s six most popular restaurants clear within your first five minutes of conversing with her.  Which is actually kind of weird by itself.  

Either way, you don’t think she’ll be carrying on her parents work any time soon.  

You thank the vendor and pay for your sandwich, periodically glancing the way Danny Fenton went.  

.

“He glows, you know,” said the teenager.  She knows you’re not from town.  You don’t know how.  She doesn’t go to the school you work at.  “In the dark.”

“I’ve never seen him in the dark,” you say, but you have seen how he catches the eye.  

Until he doesn’t.  

“We have,” said the girl, nodding at her coworkers behind the counter.  “He comes at night, sometimes.”

“Is it body paint?” you ask, even though you know the girl can’t know, and wouldn’t bring it up if she thought the solution was so mundane.  

“No,” she said.  “Weston thinks he’s dead.  Wesley, I mean.  Not the one that works here.”

You’re already hopelessly lost when it comes to the Weston brothers, but you file the information away nonetheless.  It could be useful.

“If people really think he’s dead,” you say, “shouldn’t his parents be told?”

The girl snorted.  “Have fun with that.”

.

Something burned green on the road.  You cover your nose with the back of your hand.  You see Danny Fenton standing on the other side.  His eyes reflected the green light.  

“He’s like a cat,” whispered someone behind you.  

.

Two students spoke in whispers in the hallway outside your temporary office.  

“He’s a vampire.  That’s the only explanation.”

“No, he’s not.  He can walk around in the sun.”

“That’s actually a recent addition to the myth-”

You get up and close the door. 

.

“I heard him purring.”

You don’t know how much more of this you can take.  You’re hoping Ms. Testslaff comes back soon, so you can stop coming here.  

“What, is he a cat, now?”

“I don’t know, maybe.  You’re just going to whip out the werewolf theory again, aren’t you.”

“Better than werecat.”

.

“Alien?”

“Would explain why he’s so obsessed with astronomy.”

Your fellow teachers are in on it, even.  You pinch the bridge of your nose.  And contemplate the ancient coffee machine.  It is worth it, you wonder.  

“I think it’s more likely he has undiagnosed autism,” said the blessedly sane Mr. Lancer.  “Or ADHD.  Have any of you heard from the our SpEd team recently?  I swear, they’re dodging my calls.”

“If they had the potential to force me to be alone in a room with Danny Fenton,” said one of the others, “I’d probably dodge your calls, too.  I can’t believe you still have the guts to give him detention.”

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” agreed the other.

Mr. Lacer glared down his nose at them.  “There’s something wrong with you.  Are you teachers or not?”  He looked at you, as if to compel you to comment, to weigh in on either side.  

You shrug.  You know you should agree with Lancer, but, well.  

You don’t want to be alone in a room with Danny Fenton, either.  

.

“Maybe he was abducted by aliens.”

“Hm.  Possible.”

You haven’t seen Mr. Lancer in the break room for a week.  

.

“My little sister saw him walk through a wall, once.”

“Do you think that counts more towards ghost, mutant, or vampire?”

“I don’t know.  Let’s ask the teacher.”

You pretend not to hear them.  

“Let’s just put a mark in each column.”

.

You’re leaving.  Finally.  

You sigh as you pack the last of your supplies into your car and lean against the door, staring up into the flat blue sky.  

Something silver, black, and tan streaks across it.  

You could swear it was Danny Fenton.  

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[luulapants]

Stories We Tell

When I was eight years old, my parents split up, and my dad, as divorced dads are wont to do, got a shitty apartment in a weird neighborhood.

The building was two stories with sixteen units. There was an in-ground pool out back, unheated in the shade, so the temperature hovered just above arctic. Half the time, instead of swimming, you ended up fishing a dead squirrel out and changing your mind. The laundry room in the basement flooded every time it rained. The appliances were junk, constantly breaking. The doors and locks, too. The landlord never fixed anything.

I didn’t give much thought to the neighbors until I was fourteen, when my dad got full custody. Someone broke into our ground floor apartment around the same time (and by “broke in,” I mean waltzed through a door with a broken lock) so we moved to the second floor, where it was a little safer. Our new balcony looked out over the rodent graveyard pool.

Over the next few years, I developed a colorful picture of our neighbors:

--

Across the hall was Doris, a madam and a raging alcoholic. She was in her fifties or sixties, but there were always astoundingly attractive young women coming and going from her apartment. She threw parties where she was the oldest woman by about three decades.

On quieter nights, Doris would sit on her balcony and get wine-drunk. If my friends and I were walking past, she would lean over the railing and shout super appropriate things at us like, “Izzat yer boyfriend, honey? R’you two using protection?!”

One time, my dad did some legal work for Doris. She paid him with two cases of wine.

(My dad doesn’t drink wine, but somehow, it was still gone by the end of the summer. I dunno, Dad, it’s a mystery to me. Couldn’t tell ya.)

--

Next to Doris was a big old dude that used to stand on his balcony in whitey tighties and watch me and the other kids while we waited for the bus. I never learned much about him, except he was creepy with a capital “Eeeugh.”

--

Across the hall from Captain Underpants were the Five to Eight Guys. So called because there were at least five of them living in that two-bedroom apartment, but no more than eight. They all looked vaguely the same: twenty-something stoners with a lot of tattoos and piercings and a fashion sense that hovered somewhere between Hot Topic and PacSun, while somehow managing to be worse than either.

I don’t think all of them were drug dealers. But at least some of them were. Absolutely. People would go into the apartment and re-emerge thirty minutes later in a veritable cloud of smoke. Our coat closet shared a wall with them, and my coats always reeked of pot. I mostly started smoking because people assumed anyway.

The summer after my Freshman year, they hung blankets up around their balcony to create an extra room. I told my dad, “That’s smart – there’s so many of them living in there, so they made an extra bedroom.”

My dad looked up at the tell-tale red glow of a grow lamp peeking out through the cracks of the blankets and told me, “Kiddo, I don’t think it’s a bedroom.”

--

Below the Five to Eight Guys were two elderly nuns.

Yes, really.

They never had a mean word for anyone: not the madam, not the drug dealers, not the creepy old man standing outside in his briefs. That wasn’t to say they had a kind word for them. Their go-to was smiling and minding their own fucking business.

I liked to think of them as our building security. Because, sure, we had no real security to speak of. The doors were always propped open, and I don’t think there was a functional smoke alarm in the entire building.

But surely God wasn’t going to let anything too bad happen to a building with nuns living in it, right?

--

Next door to the nuns was the strangest of the whole lot: Crazy Cat Man. He was Russian, in his seventies, and had lived in the building since before the landlord added the ‘no pets’ rule to the lease. And I’m pretty sure Crazy Cat Man was reasons A through Z for that rule.

I never got a real count on the cats, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of ten. But ten cats wasn’t enough to sate Crazy Cat Man’s love for animals. Oh, no.

One winter, he decided to feed the geese, and hangry geese laid siege to the building for weeks.

Another time, I heard the landlord’s voice downstairs. He was screaming, “What the fuck is the matter with you!”

And Crazy Cat Man was yelling back, “I no let squirrel in the apartment! I never!”

He had. He had spent weeks feeding the squirrels, getting friendly with them. Then he started cracking the patio door to lure them inside.

Crazy Cat Man was married. His wife had albinism and was photo-sensitive, so I only ever saw her outside once.

See, once a year, Crazy Cat man delivered phone books. It was his only job. He spent the rest of the year trying to fix his van up so it would run well enough to deliver the phone books. He was constantly working on it. Every part he put in, the van attacked and destroyed like a body rejecting a donor organ.

One day, he hadn’t pulled the van quite far enough into his garage, so when he lowered the garage door, it hit the back bumper and got stuck. That day, I learned that his wife’s absolute favorite thing in the world was watching her husband be incompetent, because she came out of the apartment for once. He couldn’t get the door back up, so he had to try to crawl under it to get inside the garage, and she was standing there shouting, “My husband is an idiot! My husband is an idiot!”

My dad and I stopped to watch this seventy year old man crawl under a mechanically compromised garage door. My dad said to her, “If he’s not careful, he’s going to be a dead idiot.”

The albino wife turned to him and hissed, “I should be so lucky.”

--

My senior year of high school, the recession hit, and my dad’s law practice went under, and my older brother died of a brain aneurysm. A week after I graduated, my dad told me we were going to be evicted, and I’d have to find somewhere else to stay until I went to college.

We moved everything out of the apartment, so nothing would be trashed when they evicted us. My dad ran off to the mountains to contemplate suicide (as one does), and, for about a month, I had this big, empty apartment to myself. My friends and I threw parties, got drunk. Hot boxed the bathroom.

And I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in the living room, because it felt too weird to sleep in my old room with none of my things in it.

Late one of those nights, alone in my empty apartment, I heard screaming outside. I went on the balcony. All the neighbors were coming outside to see what the noise was.

On the property behind ours, across from the squirrel-killing pool, there was a huge cottonwood tree, maybe fifty feet tall. On the end of this long branch near the top, there was a raccoon. Closer to the trunk were two more. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a raccoon scream, but it’s almost human sounding.

One of the two at the trunk rushed at the third, and forced it farther to the end of the branch. Then the two raccoons started bouncing the branch. The one at the end screamed.

I think we all realized what was happening at the same time, because I heard someone downstairs say, “What the fuck,” at the same time I thought it.

It took a long time. Pushing the raccoon back, then bouncing the branch, then pushing it back again. By the end, the one raccoon was hanging from the end of the branch, which was pointing straight down. It was screaming continuously.

When it finally fell, you could hear the thud.

I heard the same person say, “What the fuck,” and I had no idea who it was.

--

If found out years later that the rumor in the complex about my dad was that he’d been a lawyer for the mob, and he got on someone’s shit list, and that’s how he ended up so broke. And it’s why he had to disappear so suddenly.

The truth was, my dad was a good lawyer, but a terrible businessman. His clients were mostly small businesses and everyday people. When they didn’t pay him, he assumed it was because they didn’t have the money, and he didn’t want to rub it in by asking.

When I heard that theory, it occurred to me that I had created characters out of our neighbors with no real regard for what was true or logical, only what was interesting. I think that night with the raccoons was the closest I ever got to any of them, as real people. Standing in the dark, faceless, watching something horrible that we had no control over.

I’m not sure what the rumors about me were, but here’s the truth: by all logic, I should have been a pretty miserable kid. My dad had untreated depression, and sometimes he stayed in bed for days. When there was no food in the fridge, I assumed it was because we didn’t have the money, and I didn’t want to rub it in by asking. I went to friends’ houses to eat. That guy that broke into our apartment when I was fourteen? He had a brain tumor, and he thought I was his girlfriend. And I should have been scared shitless that a forty-something year old man had tried to get in bed with me before my dad woke up and beat the bajezus out of him in front of me.

But instead, I started making these stories about the weirdos we lived with. I loved them. I was obsessed with them. I talked about them all the time.

“Say, Julia, how are things at home?”

“Well, you’ll never guess what the Five to Eight Guys were up to yesterday, let me tell you!”

--

I saw Crazy Cat Man two years ago. He’s still delivering phone books, and he looks nothing like I remember him.

[batsandbugs]

Daminette December

A/N: Okay so this one spiraled out of control a little bit, but I’m so happy with how it turned out! Marinette and Damian back to being chaotic little shits, Marinette being understanding, and Damian going a little too far but finding the one person who doesn’t mind. Let me know what y’all think. Thanks @daminette-december2019-2020​

Daminette December Day 15 – Cats

If you had told Marinette back in May that by Christmas she would be living in the most crime-infested city in America going to college, working at a pet store that was most likely a front for the Russian mob, and trying to unravel a 300-year-old curse on said crime-infested-city…

… she would have believed you.

After all, it wasn’t the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her.

But back to the pet store.

There she was a week before Christmas living in a shoebox apartment, drowning in fabric and notions, with a magical box filled with tiny gods who loved to squabble and give conflicting vague advice. They were supposed to work on how to break the giant magical curse laid out across the city, but Marinette had gotten hired at the local pet store down the street because if she spent one more minute sequestered inside trying to decipher the handwriting of centuries-old monks, without a break, she would scream.

Plus, the animals were ridiculously cute and the current owner obviously had no clue how to take care of them – which is how she concluded the store was a money-laundering front. The owner, a Mr. Petriov, had known her for all of three days before leaving her to manage the shop by herself. That hadn’t changed much in the month she had worked here, but at least the animals were in better shape now and she had a slightly larger budget for the endless amount of coffee she drank.

Marinette swept the back of the room, trying to make sure it was as clean as she could get it. Despite her best efforts at trying to cheer the place up, the plastic Christmas decorations and lively music did little to distract from the poor living conditions of the animals. Marinette wished there was some way to help, but she was rather limited in her options in a foreign city and Plagg’s suggestions of stealing all the animals and burning the place down was not a viable one.

No matter how much Marinette wanted to sometimes.

The store bell rang.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she called. She finished sweeping the last of the room, before putting the broom away, and coming out to the main part of the store. “Hi there, I’m Marinette, how can I-”

“Did you know that Gotham Department of Health and Safety Regulations, Section 45: Animals and Livestock, subsection C.1: Living conditions, states that cages for cats must be 30 inches in width, 28 inches in length, 30 inches in height, and 30 inches on the diagonal? And that yours do not match those specifications?” There in the center of the store stood a man about her age. He was dressed head to toe in black, with a long, expensive, looking coat billowed out behind him. His voice was posh and smooth, and his tone could cut glass. He looked around the store in thinly veiled disgust.

Marinette vaguely recognized him. He’d been in the store about two weeks ago. He hadn’t said anything when she asked if he needed help. He just went around to all the cages watching the animals through the bars. She had gone about her normal routine, and then he left a little while later. The only reason she remembered him at all was he was wearing the same designer coat with wool Marinette’s hands itched to get a hold of.  

“I- I did not. Although, this is not my store.” The man glared at her, and had Marinette not been used to a lifetime of truly piercing glares from Chloe, she might have crumbled underneath it. “I’ve only been working here for a month and let me tell you it’s better than it was before.”

“These conditions are intolerable.”

Marinette usually kept a cool façade with the few customers who came in here, but this man was obviously looking for a fight; not that she didn’t completely agree with him.

“I’m well aware, but I’m doing the best with what I have here, especially since my boss doesn’t care.” One of the cats mewled loudly, and Marinette sighed. She knew exactly who that was. Walking over to one of the cages she opened it up. A tiny grey cat with tipped black ears and paws jumped into her arms. Marinette had named him Macaroon since Mr. Petriov hadn’t bothered to give any of them names.

“Sorry,” she said. “Macaroon likes attention, and he’s good with people so I bring him out when others come in to pet them.” The man came over and let the cat sniff his hand before scratching under the his chin.

“He looks well taken care of,” he complimented, although he still scowled. Marinette couldn’t help but think he would be much more handsome if he smiled.  

“As I said, I try my best. I take them all out of their cages so they can stretch their legs, and not just the dogs either. But that’s whenever I’m not cleaning, or prepping food, or taking care of the paperwork.” Or at home trying to figure out how to banish a city-wide curse, Marinette thought to herself.

The man hummed. “Look, you seem… nice.” He said the word in such a way that implied he didn’t believe the concept existed. “So, I’ll let you know ahead of time, but this store is going to get raided tomorrow. It’s a-”

“Front for the Russian Mob?” Marinette finished. The man seemed taken aback and immediately glared at her again. “Yeah, I figured that out within a few days of working here. I just had no clue as to who to go to about it. Who’s going to help a tiny French girl about a corrupt business in a city known for corruption?” She raised an eyebrow at the man who seemed taken aback by her abruptness.

“Fair point. So why are you working here then? If you know it’s corrupt.”

Marinette sighed; it was true she had plenty else to be doing, school was over for the semester sure, but there was always magic to learn, or sites to go check out to see if they were connected to the curse, or she could have gone home for the break and visited her parents, but…

If she did any of that, no one would be here to look out for the animals. And just because she couldn’t actively be a hero, didn’t mean she was going to turn up her back on those who needed her, even if they were of the four-legged variety.

She looked back at the handsome man; how could she explain any of that to him.

… not that she should.

Because that would be bad.

She didn’t know him at all.

Even if he was ridiculously good looking.

Fuck. 

She did not have the time to get caught up in anything else, especially not a crush.

So instead, she went with a mostly true answer. “Just because the people running the store are bad, doesn’t mean the animals are. I would come by here on my way from school and would want to let the poor things out of their cages. So, when I finally had enough time, I applied for a job.” The look on the man’s face was a cross between surprise and understanding. “And you’d want to do something else too if the last three months all you did was stare at miles of hand-sewn hems and contemplate if death would be kinder.”

Marinette bet the man would deny it if pointed out, but the side of his mouth turned up at her comment.

“Understandable.”

“My question is,” she asked, stroking Macaroon who was happily purring away in her arms. “Why would you tell the person working at the Russian mob front that you’re going to have the store raided the next day? Doesn’t that seem a little counter-productive?” Not that Marinette was in any way complaining, she had been waiting for an opportunity like this for weeks.

“It depends on whether you tell your boss or not.”

“Hell no.”

Finally, the man’s face morphed from a resting scowl into a self-satisfied smirk.

Oh no, he’s even hotter like that, Marinette thought.  

“Then I think telling was exactly the right idea. You’ll need to give a statement to the department doing the raid, but you won’t be in trouble for anything that went down here.”

Marinette nodded, and then remembered something. “Would pictures help?”

“Pictures?”

“I’ve been taking pictures of all the documents that come through the front desk. The legitimate ones and the less legitimate ones. It’s only about a month’s worth of stuff, but I have it on a flash drive.”

The man’s smirk grew a bit more. “Yes, I do believe that would be useful.”

Marinette smiled, finally glad this place would get shut down, but then she looked at Macaroon so snuggly in her arms, and all the other lovely creatures throughout the store came to mind. “And the animals, will they be okay?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to them. They’ll all be going to reputable shelters or good homes through the Wayne Foundation.”

Marinette readjusted Macaroon in her arms. “That’s good. So, should I bring the flash drive when I give my statement or-”

“I can take it,” he said quickly. “I mean,” he cleared his throat. “You can give it to me, and I can hand it off to the… proper authorities.” The glint in his eye spelled trouble. Marinette thought it was completely unfair how attractive she found it.  

“It’s in my apartment. My shift is only another hour, but….” She thought about her mess of an apartment covered in yards of fabric, questionable ancient artifacts, and the tiny floating talking gods. “It’s a bit of a mess, how about we meet elsewhere?”

“Yes,” the man responded quickly. He looked down at Macaroon and stroked the cat’s back, a light blush playing out over his cheeks. “Of course, that would be acceptable.”

“Coffee then?” asked Marinette, glad to have a little longer to chat with him.

“Sounds good. Inman Perk at 7th and Forge Street?”

“I love that place. I’m Marinette by the way, I think I said that.”

The man smirked again, “You did, but it’s nice to hear it. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne.”

“I’d shake your hand Damian, but my arms are a little full.” She readjusted Macaroon, moving over to his cage placing the content cat back inside. Marinette smiled, happy to know this would be the last night the animals would have to sleep in these too-small cages. She turned back to Damian and offered her hand.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Mr. Wayne,” she said with a grin.

He clasped his hand with hers, and she delighted at the chill it sent up her spine. “Not nearly as much as I am with you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette paused for a moment, “I don’t think I ever gave you my last name?”

Damian paused, his face of a person caught with their hand in a cookie jar. “I may, perhaps, have done a slight background check on you before I decided to confront you today.” He retreated his hands and clasped them behind his back. “Uh, I- I apologize if that comes off a little…” he trailed off.

“Invasive, creepy, overbearing?”

Damian’s face fell. “Yes.”

Marinette tried hard to hold in her smirk. “Or protective, concerned, over-invested? I’ve had friends like that before.” Thinking particularly of Kagami, or her own actions towards Adrian during those early years. “It’s a little much, but not so bad especially when confronting someone who may be part of the Russian mob.”

Damian’s face went from contrite to an all-out grinning smirk. “You? Part of the mob? A little hard to believe.”

“Oh, you never know”’ she teased back. “I think I could pull it off, no one ever expects the tiny French girl.”

A bark from the back of the store interrupted their flirting, soon all of the dogs were barking, and Marinette realized the time.

“I’ve got to get them all taken out and fed. I’ll be finished in about an hour, I’ll grab the stuff from my apartment and meet you at… 8:30?”

Damian nodded. “Of course, see you there.” And with that he turned on his heel and walked out of the store, his long coat billowing like a cape behind him. Marinette watched him disappear from view and waited a second before she punched the air. She couldn’t wait. She kneeled back down at the cage and scratched Macaroon’s chin.

“Thanks for being such a good luck charm.” The cat purred back happily. Marinette headed off to finish what she needed to get done, wondering what the heck she was going to wear.

Permanent Tag List 

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[studioxlii]

18 and Junhee pls!! Xx

"to be fully seen by somebody, then, be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous."

proof read: kinda

warnings: none

note(s): the format might be garbage, im mobile.

Love is a weird thing but so are the conditions that come with it; the limits that people decide need to be in place. You understood boundaries or not wanting to take too many steps before you knew the relationship would hold but some things never sat right with you. It took a few years but it wasn't until you overheard some of your project group talking that it finally hit you; most people you knew didn't want to date their best friends for two reasons.

1. It could ruin their friendship. This reason was obvious and of course you understood.

2. They'd seen way too much.

You remember hearing those words and your head lifting, confused and wondering what that could even mean. When you were in a relationship that would eventually progress, weren't they just going to see those things anyway? You never could let that thought go, not once you decided that would only make it better; it would make a relationship stronger. Well, in your eyes.

Dating was something that seemed to come easier to you before those thoughts started polluting your mind; no one seemed to understand or see you in a way you really wanted. The ideal person for you was someone who saw everything; the bad days, the good days and the maybe okay but not so great days. It was really starting to mess with you. By not wanting to date certain friends, were you restricting yourself from the relationship you really wanted?

Only one person, one friend, knew you better than you knew yourself, you were positive of that. Your best friend of nine years, Junhee, had probably been through almost every bad thing possible in life with you. You began recalling all the situations you'd been in with each other that were memorable; the things you wouldn't have faced with anyone else because you didn't want anyone else to see.

'Do you remember when you got your belly button pierced?'

And that's when it began.

The question came out of nowhere, breaking the silence of your apartment and leaving Junhee to look up from his book confused and blinking. 'Uh.. yes?' His response came out slow, hesitant like he was missing some weird in-between the lines meaning of the question.

Your head tilted, finally looking over at him. 'Do you remember the way you squeezed my hand to the point it was purple because it hurt so bad you nearly passed out?'

His features flushed at the ridiculous memory being forced back into his head. 'You mean the same day you had to cling to me, crying because your first tattoo felt like your leg was being seared off?'

You hated crying in front of people for any reason but you couldn't go alone; you'd never go alone for something like that. You just nodded in response before returning to your own book, continuing to read like you hadn't brought the subject up at all.

Your first date after you began recalling things and getting far too deep in what could only be sentimental thoughts went okay. A friend of your friend's, Sehyoon, who was an art major and knew of you but didn't know you; he'd never really integrated himself into the small friend circle on campus but Byeongkwan spoke highly of him.

He was sweet; a gentleman. Pretty much anything you could really ask for but you noticed little things; minute things that didn't even matter. You felt like you were being unreasonable or judgmental despite only picking out things that didn't match. Didn't match what, exactly?

He wasn't Junhee.

The realization had you suddenly shooting up from your seat, interrupting the poor male's answer to your question about his major and spilling out several apologies as you even fought to put money down for your own food. It took quite a few more 'I'm really sorry's before you were speeding out of the small restaurant; you'd make sure to call him later.

You found yourself in the only place that made sense: banging hard on the door of the RA for your building, hardly caring if you disturbed anyone else.

'What?' was the greeting you received from a very frustrated Donghun, wanting nothing more than to be left alone again. And yes, you called each other your friend.

'We have a really, really big problem.'

Being a mutual friend and despite not wanting to get involved in anyone's "drama", he spent two hours talking you out of it, down from it and against it, reminding you just why your newfound feelings for your best friend were a problem. He even reminded you of your comment, three years ago, about how you could never possibly like Junhee; how he remembered that and you didn't, you didn't care to ask.

You returned home a wreck, tired and wanting to burn your own emotions. Were you really uncovering some unconsciously buried feelings or did you just like the fact that he /saw/ you? He'd seen you nearly on your deathbed sick.

He'd seen you living in a depression nest for two weeks, barely able to get out a bed and eating nothing but honey buns and cereal.

He'd seen you grieve family members and pets; seen you walk into the rain and scream at the top of your lungs because of how lost in despair you'd been.

He'd seen you drunk and stupid; he'd seen you the night after a one night stand and hungover to the point you wanted to fight the sun.

He'd sat by you absolutely throwing your guts up.

He had seen every single side of you and you'd seen the same from him but it only started to stack further and further.

You knew his favorite songs because God forbid he only have one. You knew his favorite color, favorite food and his weird retirement plan that involved a tiny petting zoo of his own that he refused to just call a farm. Your pins for everything were each other's birthdates and he was the only other name on your bank account. Why?

Staring down at the menu you'd seen over a hundred times, you were sure, you couldn't decide on just what sounded good and part of you just wanted everything. Those moments staring at words that started to blur, you noticed Junhee hadn't touched his menu and kept shifting around, visibly uncomfortable for reasons you couldn't possible figure out.

'It's unlike you to not be going off about the food here.. or already having ordered your favorite drink that, I recall, you said you'd die without if you didn't have it every time you came here,' you began, closing the menu and setting it down with narrowed eyes, 'what's going on?'

'It's stupid. Just.. order and get some food, I'll probably just eat later. I'm not really hungry.'

That was a bold faced lie and you knew it, the concern growing. 'And, what's the oh-so-stupid reason, exactly?'

It took him a minute, shifting more and acting like a child who had gotten in trouble. 'I, uh.. I can't really..' he gestured around, lips pursed and growing even more upset by the second, you could tell by the way he was trying to stop himself from frowning. 'Can't really afford it.' You were college students, it wasn't the world's biggest secret if you couldn't afford something.

'Do you really think I'm just going to eat in front of you?' You snorted, avoiding any comment that would further his being upset over the situation, 'Don't worry about it and order, okay?'

Financial struggles were no quiet matter between the two of you and never had been since you started school. Junhee lived off campus in an apartment with two shitty roommates, a terrible part time job and parents that pretty much didn't care if he perished on the side of the street somewhere. You, on the other hand, which you didn't like bringing up, were doing fine but only because your parents dropped something of an 'allowance' into your account for foods and necessities.

You ignored his attempt to argue and told him if he didn't order something, you were going to do it for him; he shut up.

The next day, you took a trip to the bank.

You could feel eyes on you as you splayed across the couch, staring at the ceiling and contemplating life and all of it's annoyances. No question left you but even if you wanted to say something, you were cut off.

'So, are you going to tell me what's going on? For the past.. three weeks? You've been asking me all sorts of weird stuff,' Junhee inquired, frowning thoughtfully, 'Are you testing me or something? Trust me, yes, I remember every single second I've spent with you. I remember every word you've said, the names of every guy you've been with and the ones I'd like to fight. I remember every birthday and gift I've given you and the ones you've given me. Yes, I remember your favorite things and everything so, what's the deal?'

It sounded sentimental at first but then you noticed that all too familiar waiver in his voice and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his hands fiddling with the chain bracelet that had adorned his wrist for five years; he wanted to cry. A crying Junhee was something no one ever wanted on your hands and you briefly recalled a phone call from a very panicked Byeongkwan because of just that but you were letting your thoughts get off topic.

'I think I'm in love with you.'

'If you don't want to be fri-'

You were both cut off as your head turned to finally look at him, soaking in the unreadable expression on his features when someone busted through the door; 'Look!'

Both of you looked towards your two friends that invited themselves into your door, one holding a new cat and the other looking just as pleased with the announcement but it gradually dropped. 'Shit, did we interrupt something?' Of course, you always knew when you finally and truly confessed to someone that it would be Byeongkwan who ruined the whole thing; you used it as an escape, though, reminding yourself of what the confession could do to your friendship.

'New minion, I see,' you chimed, sitting up and ignoring the question, both of them, as you rose to greet Donghun's new pet. You were ignorant to the looks shared between the three boys and you were happy about that.

Now, you just had to avoid it ever coming up again until it was forgotten.

Junhee, however, didn't want that to happen.

After about an hour of chitchatting and ignoring the gaze of your best friend, you excused yourself under the excuse of having a meetup for a class, despite it being your dorm, and managed to weasel your way out. There was really nowhere to go, no one to talk to and you surely didn't have any plans for the next week; you ended up at the café on campus. It was quiet and filled mostly with a few students doing work and the two members of staff behind the counter, one eventually joining you at the table. He didn't say anything, waited for you to stop your dramatic Disney scene and acknowledge him.

'Would you date me, Yu?'

Taken a bit off guard, he ended up snorting. 'I can't tell if this is a trap or you want the genuine answer,' he replied, crossing his arms atop the table, 'but, on the hand that it's serious.. probably. I mean, I definitely wouldn't turn you down. We've known each other for a few years, hang out on a regular basis.. get along and have a lot of similar interests. So, yeah.'

The answer made your lips draw into a deep frown and you tapped your fingers against the cup, soaking up every word. 'Even though we're friends? What if we broke up?'

A soft 'ah' came from him as he realized what was really going on and he shrugged, thinking it over for a minute or two. 'We're both adults and I don't believe either of us would do something so that the breakup would be something that could ruin our friendship. I understand it would be like.. friends then it being intimate then back to friends, but I think both of us are mature enough to deal with that and not let it bother us too much.' He spoke like he'd been through it several times and in reality, it had only been once, a small fling with a mutual friend but they still seemed pretty okay. 'Is this about Jun?'

'Does everyone know?' You groaned out, releasing the cup to lean back and rub your hands over your face in defeat, 'I.. I told him I think I love him then Kwan and Donghun showed up and I bailed because now I don't actually want to face him or admit to ever actually saying it. I do! I do love him! I don't.. I don't want to lose him, you know?'

You could see the way the latter looked at you, sympathetic and calculating what words wouldn't just stress you out further. 'Look.. I know you don't want to hear it from me or anyone else for that matter because you want to keep saying it'll ruin your friendship when in reality, you don't like the idea that you could hurt each other, I was the same way with Donghun, so I understand.. but, you should really see all this from an outsider's point of view. Junhee looks at you like you hung the moon and you look at him like he painted the stars; yes, it's been like that since I've met you and a reminder, it's been years. I don't know what took you so long to realize it or if you've just avoided it this whole time but anyone would have to be blind not to see it. Now,' he sighed deeply as he finished and straightened, 'I think you should probably go and talk to him about it considering you just confessed then ditched but it's your choice. I don't think you have anything to worry about.. for either of you. You're the most loyal person I know, so I have no doubt you'd ever hurt him in a way that would ruin you guys and he can barely swat at a fly or sit still through hearing thunder, you think he's going to do something? Regardless.. one of these days, soon, you'll have to face it and I really hope you don't go into it with the cliché reason of your friendship being ruined.'

The words sank in slow and you wanted nothing but to cry your eyes out because he was right; he always was and you hated it. It took a while for you to speak and he seemed okay with that, briefly leaving you to fill a couple orders before returning. 'I know you're leaving for break tomorrow.. tell him before then.' Those were his last words before he bid you good luck and a good night, heading back to his own dorm, most likely to call Donghun now that he'd projected just a little bit.

Irrationality was a word that would be in your character description box and the word stupid could very well be right next to it because when you got home, you packed your bag and decided to leave early, not bothering to let any of your friends know. You needed time and you were being selfish, so selfish to the point you thought maybe he'd just hate you when you got back.

Oh boy were you wrong.

Two days into being back home and confiding in your mother who promptly smacked you upside the back of the head, you found yourself sitting on the porch and moping, split between what to do. You suspected the boys were a bit angry with you when you noticed the ample amount of texts, voicemails, social messages and phone calls that had gone ignored; you caught a glimpse of the absolute book Yuchan took the time to send you, leaving you kind of scared to even open it. It didn't take long for the guilt to set in but you chose to wait until you were back on campus to deal with it.

Or at least, that was your plan.

'So, I know you've never been a fan of confrontation but.. you've never been the type to run away.'

The sudden voice startled you as you hadn't even noticed anyone pull up and of course, upon looking up, you were met with the face you were trying to avoid the most. Junhee stood at the end of the sidewalk looking pitiful and shifting his weight in a nervous manner. You didn't bother trying to speak, not knowing what to say but you did wait for the rant, the berating that you deserved; that wasn't who he was though.

He even stayed quiet for a minute or two, making his way closer to sit on the steps, looking up towards your figure. 'Did you mean it?'

You could have answered right away, poured your heart out and let out the tears you'd been holding in since the moment you left. Instead, you stayed quiet and pulled your knees closer to your chest, not trusting your own voice. He didn't relent though, reaching out to lightly nudge your knee.

'That's all I need to know.. did you mean it? If.. if you didn't I can just leave and we don't have to bother with it again.'

'And, if I did..?' Finally finding your voice, you looked over to him, chewing hard on your lower tier, nervous and kind of wanting to throw up.

You could see him thinking it over before a faint smile showed up. 'I'd most likely cry.. but I'm going to cry either way,' he began, shrugging his shoulders while moving up to sit next to you, 'I'd also tell you that I love you, too and I've been trying to tell you that for years now.'

The confession made your heart flutter, your skin burn and the butterflies being kept back burst in delight in your gut. 'Even.. after everything we've been through? Everything you've seen..?'

Junhee nodded. 'Mhm. I'd go through it all again and what do you mean? I've seen nothing but you.'

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dramione RomCom Fest (Part 1)

Dramione RomCom Fest 2020:

12 Years and 3 Months by pixiedustandbluebutterflies - T, one-shot - As news of their engagement takes Wizarding England by storm, elusive power couple Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are finally sharing their love story in this Witch Weekly interview!

50 (First) Dates with Hermione Granger by HufflepuffMommy - G, WIP - Draco Malfoy sets his heart on romancing Hermione Granger, but she has short-term memory loss; she can't remember anything that happened the day before. So every morning, Draco has to woo her again. Her friends are very protective, and Draco must convince them that he's in it for love. Plot (andsummary) taken from the movie "50 First Dates" for the Dramione RomCom fest!

About Time by WordsmithMusings - E, WIP - When Draco's Father reveals to him that the men in their family have the ability to travel back in time, he uses his newfound gift to do many things - save a life, be a better friend, reconnect with a witch, and fall in love.

All's well that ends well (to end up with you) by weestarmeggie - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger is all set to be the maid of honor at her best friends wedding. She is taken back when she finds out that the best man is none other than her ex-fiance.

Away by In_Dreams - E, WIP - Desperate for a change of pace, Hermione unknowingly commits to a home exchange with Pansy Parkinson and finds herself swept up in the chaos of New York City and into the arms of Draco Malfoy. Dramione/Hansy. Loosely inspired by The Holiday.

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19 - T, WIP - Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer.

Chasing the Future by Rdlentz8 - T, WIP - An unusual and anonymous Patronus finds a frustrated Hermione alone in the library and talks to her about being lonely. Could this be the push she's needed to change her fate? Inspired by A Cinderella Story. There are direct quotes from A Cinderella Story.

Domino Effect by KoraKwidditch - M, WIP - Resolved to live her life in Muggle London, Hermione Granger finally felt free. Free from the Ministry, free from her celebrity status and everything that entailed. But who knew that one cataclysmal incident would lead her straight into the Malfoy's den and down a series of unfortunate events? At least they think she's a Muggle.**A Dramione retelling of While You Were Sleeping**

Fairytales and Wishes by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - All Scorpius wants is for Hermione to be a nice step mother, but somehow that sort of gets lost in translation with his accidental magic.

Flipping Through the Pages by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy had a fascination with a popular book series and its writer. His life changes when he meets her.

The Hate List by bethelson - T, WIP - While chaperoning the post graduation trip, Hermione and Draco find themselves wandering the streets of Paris in the middle of the night, fruitlessly searching for the seventh years they were supposed to be in charge of. What Hermione doesn’t know, is that those seventh years struck a bargain with Draco to keep her occupied so they could sneak out for a last hurrah before they all head back to London. So in his efforts to derail her search, he convinces her to join him in their own night of frivolity. As they paint the city red, they slowly learn to let their guards down, and find that putting the past behind them allows them to finally focus on the present. ___ My contribution to the Dramione RomCom Fest!

Hollywood & Vine by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead), msmerlin - M, WIP - As the manager of an occult bookstore currently renting a room from an old friend and living paycheck to paycheck, Hermione wasn’t exactly living the Hollywood dream. But her life is turned upside down when a chance encounter with Tinseltown’s current heartthrob, Draco Malfoy, leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about life and love. or the one in which Hermione unintentionally falls in love with a movie star.

Home is Where the Heart Is by lrs002 - T, one-shot - A rewrite and Draco/Hermione look at basically the last scenes of the movie Sweet Home AlabamaOr in the other words: The Wedding and the Kiss

How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days by GracefulLioness - E, WIP - Hermione will do anything to prove to her boss at Witch Weekly that she's ready to take on more serious topics, including dating a man just to drive him away for the sake of her next column, How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days. But pushing Draco Malfoy away proves to be a challenging task, perhaps because he's got ten days to make her fall in love with him. Inspired by How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

It Happened One Knight by Klawdee - T, WIP - “A spoiled heir running away from his family is helped by an old classmate, who is actually a journalist in need of a story.” Based off of the 1934 film, It Happened One Night

It's All In The Malfoy Family by TwilightToMidnight - M, one-shot - Over a decade of longing and desire comes to fruition one night. Not quite the way Hermione expected but definitely with a bang. Everyone and their dog seem to be working against her. For the 2020 Dramione RomCom Fest. Loosely based off Sabrina (1954 - with Audrey Hepburn).

Love, Actually in Dramione by Blessedindeed - G, one-shot - I absolutely love the movie "Love, Actually" and was so excited to make some art pieces from a few of the more memorable scenes! Many thanks and kudos to QuinTalon & NuclearNik for hosting and being such amazing encouragers to everyone! I cannot wait to dive into all these fun pieces!!

Love, Hermione by pandora_rose_xo - G, WIP - When Hermione leaves some personal letters lying around in a sleepy haze, Dobby comes across them, and trying to be helpful delivers them to their recipients. Who were never supposed to see them.

Metamorphosis by persephone_stone - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy is king of Hogwarts High—student body president, captain of both the water polo and basketball teams, and boyfriend of Astoria Greengrass, the hottest girl in school. That is, until said girlfriend returns from Spring Break with some unexpected news: she’s dumping him for a college boy. Now, Draco is on a mission to win her back. And who better to help him turn into a more intellectual, cultured version of himself than Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in school? As he and Hermione spend time together, will Draco learn how to be the right type of boyfriend for Astoria? Or will he instead learn that maybe Astoria is not the right type of girl for him? Written for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on the 90’s teen romcom She’s All That.

Midnight in Paris by Aneiria - E, one-shot - ‘Granger,’ Draco replied, casting a quick wandless charm to clean his own clothes. ‘Want to watch the magic you’re casting next time? Whatever spell that was, it nearly took both of us out.’ Hermione’s face settled into a frown of confusion. ‘I thought that was you,’ she said, hesitantly. ‘I wasn’t using magic.’ They both looked away at the same time, taking in their surroundings. ‘Where are we?’ Hermione wondered out loud, as she spun on the spot and took in the sights. It was the wrong question, really.

My Big Fat Muggle Wedding by BiscuitsForPotter - G, one-shot - Draco's gotten more used to having Muggles as future-in-laws, but what about his parents?

No More Waiting by anchoredto717 - T, one-shot - The end of Hogwarts, an impending Mastery, and confirmation that Hermione is well and truly over Ronald Weasley: three factors that push Draco into a place he never imagined. Is he really going to Harry Potter’s house party? A one shot heavily inspired by the 90s teen classic, Can’t Hardly Wait.

Off the Rails by RoseHarperMaxwell - E, WIP - For the Dramione RomCom Fest 💚 My adaptation of the movie Trainwreck (Amy Schumer/Bill Hader), featuring Draco in Amy's role. “Pans.” Draco’s head falls back petulantly. “I can't interview Granger, especially not about how she's healing Potter. Neither of them are going to want to talk to me. Make Creevey do it.” “No, you'll do it. And don't sulk at me, Draco.” Pansy shuts him down immediately, not that he expected to talk her out of it. She gives assignments, not suggestions. “Old Quidditch rivalries. Gryffindor Princess confiding in the Prince of Slytherin, with a side of The Boy Who Lived. You’re the only one for it.” She drops her pen on her notepad with finality. “She’s also fit as hell now. I’d even fuck her, so our readers will be drooling over her. This is easy, Draco. Don’t fuck it up.”

One Thing We've Got by IrisCalasse - M, WIP - Over a decade after the Second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy is a broke socialite straddling the Muggle and magical worlds. One day a new neighbour moves in his residential complex. What has happened to Hermione Granger to make her hide from Ronald Weasley? If Cormac McLaggen is gay, why is he hanging around Granger so much? And why does her cat seem to know way too much about everything? Based on the plot of Breakfast at Tiffany's, but set in 2012 London with a magical twist. Updates every 16th of the month.

Pin down your heart by hiyas - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger contemplates a door when Destiny comes knocking.

Playing Cupid by tygermine - T, one-shot - Set It Up AU.

Pretty Witch by TakingFlight48 - E, WIP - When confronted with the opportunity to take on an alter ego - Hermione Granger, Potion's Mistress and the Wizarding World's Golden Girl became Vivian Roberts - London's weekend escort. For three years she lived in this duality until Draco Malfoy, lost in Soho and driving a precious DB6, wound up uncovering her secret. This is the tale of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy finding a balance between work and love through the guise of fake dating, unacknowledged feelings, and Hermione not wanting to let go of a part of herself that is no longer serving her.

Promises, Promises by Musyc - T, one-shot - Lawyer and social work advocate Hermione Granger is one signature away from fulfilling her dream to have a house-elf education program. All she needs is to seal the deal, and Draco Malfoy has promised the full support of Malfoy and Son Developments. But the owner of the property is balking, there's a new buyer in the mix, and a promise isn't a contract.

The Proposal by FaeOrabel - M, WIP - When Head of Creatures Division of the DMLE, Hermione Granger, is pushed into a corner regarding a new marriage law she doesn't want to comply with, she gets the brilliant idea to stage an engagement with her long time, loyal assistant, Draco Malfoy. Draco goes along with the charade on the condition she gets him promoted to a new position. A deal set, they prepare to fool not only the Minister of Magic, but Hermione's best friend, and Draco's entire family. What could go wrong? Just the threat of Azkaban should they fail.

PS I love you by emotionalsupporthufflepuff - M, WIP - After a tragic accident, Hermione must reintroduce Draco to a life they've built far away from home. She recieves unexpected help in a series of letter written by Draco himself before the accident...

Regrets Only by nztina - T, WIP - Draco and Hermione are the best of friends - until Hermione goes off to teach at Hogwarts and Draco realises that he doesn’t just miss her. Upon her return to London, he intends to reveal his feelings, but she has a surprise of her own, one that will definitely put a damper on Draco’s plans. Draco. Hermione. And...Hermione’s fiancé?

Restless in Ripon by QuinTalon - T, WIP - Scorpius Malfoy wants his father to be happy again and as his grandfather often told him, a Malfoy always gets what he wants. A nosy radio host, well-meaning friends, and fate will help bring two lonely souls together. Well, that and one tenacious eight-year-old.

Rushing Back by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy is thirty, surviving, and very much not thriving. He's near the utter end of himself when he experiences the worst of all possible bad days--a double betrayal that rocks him to his core. Unmoored, untethered, he winds up in a strange place, where he begins an adventure through time that will change the course of his life. A time travel fic with a twist on the movie "13 Going on 30."

Say Anything by MidnightValkyrie - G, 9 Chapters - To know Draco Malfoy is to love him. Hermione Granger is about to know Draco Malfoy. Written and created for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on Say Anything.

She's the Snake by monsterleadmehome - E, WIP - In a universe where Voldemort never came back, Harry lives with Sirius, and Dumbledore isn't dying, the worst thing the Golden Trio has to contend with is their grades and Quidditch matches... oh, and the recent magical attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns. Harry is sure Malfoy had something to do with it, and though Hermione doesn't agree, her sarcastic offer somehow turns into her latest nightmare: to go undercover as a boy in the Slytherin dorms and find out what's really going on. And maybe throw a Quidditch game or two. But there's one thing she hasn't prepared for: falling in love with the boy she's supposed to be spying on.

Signed and Sealed by niffizzle - M, WIP - She owns a children's bookstore. He runs a corporation buying significant shares of small businesses. Never in their lives have Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy gotten along — or so they think.

Timing is Everything by anne_ammons - M, 7 Chapters - Draco Malfoy is your average bachelor living an average bachelor's life, until he crosses paths with his former classmate, Hermione Granger. Strike that - when has Draco Malfoy ever been average? A retelling of the 1994 movie, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Dramione-style.

A Trip to Kouloura Beach by rennaissance_woman - one-shot - A day at the beach, what could happen?

The Truth About Kneazles and Crups by samkablam7 - T, WIP - When Draco Malfoy started hosting his wizarding radio show The Truth About Kneazles and Crups, he had no idea that it would bring Hermione Granger back into his life. He also didn't know that they would both be interested in each other. The only problem? She thinks that the radio host she's interested in is his best friend and Pro-Quidditch-player-wannabe, Blaise Zabini.

Untitled Marital Crisis Comedy by Darlingheart - G, one-shot - Draco is rich, handsome, and most importantly, excellent with the ladies. Harry Potter is not. Which is where Draco comes in. With Draco’s help Harry will learn there’s more to life than being a one-woman man. But what happens when Draco meets someone who changes his mind? And what does Hermione Granger have to do with it...

A Woman of Some Dignity by mcal - G, one-shot - That seemed to get his attention. “What are you—of course I respect you, you daft witch!”

“Your actions today show the opposite!” I answered. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m a woman of some dignity and I’d like to shower in peace. You’ll kindly wait half an hour before Apparating back to my flat.”  Hermione's not one for diaries, but it's been a week to say the least. It all started off with a confusing meeting with Draco Malfoy in her office, and... well, Hermione thought maybe recording her thoughts on the events would help her process. She isn't wrong.

You lost and lonely, You just like heaven by Wake_The_Dragon - T, WIP - Dramione Romcom Fest. Hermione Granger had needed something new and a change of scenery was a good start. What she hadn't counted on was renting a flat with an annoying (if handsome) ghost, who claims he isn't dead. Somehow, helping out a ghost and falling in love were two things she hadn't bargained for.

You Wish by Talonwillow (Ehollis303) - T, WIP - What makes a bad case of "Black Cat Flu" more tolerable? Young Perseus is learning that hearing about dueling, torture, revenge, giants, dementors, chases, true love, and miracles from his Grandfather Scorpius certainly makes things easier- If the man would finish the story that is. A story about love, where not even death can keep the beautiful feisty stable-girl and her sometimes irritating one true love apart. Together they must battle the evil Lord Voldemort through an adventure crossing the magical and fairy tale realm.

[cpcoulter-official]

This is Me Trying

For a long moment, he scanned the trees and bushes, through the sidewalk, up and down. Satisfied it was empty, or reasonably so, he stepped back from the window and drew the curtains slightly, allowing a few lances of sunshine through.

As he turned to scoop up the electric kettle, Julian said from the counter, “It’s fine, don’t worry. No one followed me or saw me.” He never even looked up from the drink cupped in his hands.

Oz just smiled faintly as he poured hot water over the teabag in his own cup. “You gotta admit, there’s no way to really be sure when it’s someone of your caliber.” He walked over to the kitchen island and took the seat across the corner from his unexpected guest.

Julian didn’t answer. Oz gave him a few charitable moments of contemplative quiet as he steeped his own tea. He took the bag out with care, adding sugar generously, before reaching over to take his guest’s cup and swapping it with his cup. “This looks like it’d be better for you. You’re expecting too much out of your coffee from the way you stare at it.”

“What is this?” Julian asked with a mild grimace when he took a bracing sip.

Oz was pleased; getting some emotion out of him was good. “It’s herbal. Supposed to calm you. I wouldn’t know, I don’t drink it a lot.”

“Like you need any more calming…” Julian snorted and took another sip. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Oz replied, setting down his own drink. “So...are you...going to tell me what brings you to San Francisco?” He smirked slightly before taking another sip. “Without even a call to warn me that I was going to have an Oscar nominee sitting in my kitchen?”

“Don’t be like that,” Julian made a face at him. “That never mattered to you.”

“You’re right…” Oz laughed, hoping it was contagious enough to crack a smile from the other boy. He looked around again. “...but seriously, you need to tell someone where you are. You didn’t even bring a bodyguard?” He looked at Julian with a furrow on his brow. “Given what happened...I’d expect you’d have your own Secret Service at this point.”

Julian’s hands tightened around the cup as he stared into it. “...yeah, my handler thinks I’ve gone to see Berkeley.”

Oz lit up at that. “Are you? Did you change your mind? You’re going to college?”

“Do I look like I have time to go to college…?” Julian retorted, barely moving.

“You never know,” Oz replied with a smile. “You always make time when it matters to you.” He paused before adding with a sigh, “Which is why...I know there has to be a really good reason you’re sitting in my kitchen right now.”

The pause felt heavy, and Oz wasn’t used to that with this particular person. He remembered how Julian used to laugh in the same way light reflects from glass; it would scatter in echoes on the walls and you didn’t have a choice but to smile. Because he seemed so...young.

And looking at this boy, sunglasses on his messy chocolate-colored crown, oversized merch sweater from the last Haven tour, flushed from the sunny outdoors but heavy-lidded, and lashes smudged dark onto his cheeks--he looked younger than ever.

“I just...thought I’d come by.” Julian whispered.

It sounded like a secret. Like everything about this visit. Like everything about the two of them.

“...you look tired,” Oz remarked quietly. “You haven’t been sleeping well?”

“...sometimes I think I sleep too much.”

“Not back to work yet, are you?” Oz asked, concerned. “You don’t look to be in any condition to go back work the way you do.” That, and nothing in the news and gossip rags suggested that Julian Larson had ever even stirred out of his house. At least not from what Oz knew.

“I want to…” Julian sighed, stirring the cup as though the dredges would answer him. “...it’d be something to do. I don’t want to be inside anymore. Like…” The way he stared out to the sunshine outside made it seem like he was looking through worlds. “...I want to be somewhere else.”

There was a pause, and then Julian looked at him with a faint smile. “You were the first person I thought of.”

At that, Oz had the humility to blush as he looked away from that familiar smile. He remembered back when he was free to kiss it when he wanted, but never really took advantage of the fact. Now it just felt like something glimmering in the distance that he could admire and not touch. And he was alright with that.

What he wasn’t alright with was the reason it was here again. “I’m flattered, J. But...I’m just more worried about you than ever now.” He sighed. “Everyone’s heard about what happened to you, and then not much about you since.”

“You’ve kept tabs on me?”

“Hard not to,” Oz smiled. “You left an impression.”

“And what did you hear everyone say about me?” Julian asked, almost sarcastically.

“That you were healing, that your manager said that you’re resting, that your mother is looking after you, that rumor has it you’re going to a spa in the Netherlands for therapy, that you’re going to be okay…” Oz leaned back with a smile. Then he was serious again. “But you’re not okay.”

“I’m not,” Julian admitted. He hesitated for one more moment, and then maybe his internal walls started to crack, as it all came rushing out. “I can’t stay home and...watch my mother worry about me. Stare at me with that look on her face. I can’t eat another plate of aggressively healthy organic recovery food. I can’t...deal with cameras with the telephoto lenses around the corner down our street. Watching for me. I don’t...know how they knew where I go for physical therapy and I want to throw my phone every time there’s an update about an in-depth interview request or...or…an appearance at Oprah or...or…” He let out a shaking breath. “They said this was all in my head, it’s all up to me about getting “better” or that I’m so talented that I shouldn’t waste it and I need to get better, all that, but everyone’s doing things around me and looking at me and expecting me to do...something... It’s just…” He closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his temples.

He looks so young.

Oz smiled sadly. “...it’s too much noise, huh?”

“It’s...everyone wanting a piece of me.” Julian braced his elbows on the counter and stared into the distance again. “...I don’t even know if I want me. Or if I can be the me that everyone wants right now.”

“Nobody has the right to demand that of you,” Oz replied softly, after charitable consideration. “You shouldn’t be made to feel like you owe them anything.”

“Is that why you quit…?” Julian asked.

“I never quit,” Oz bristled back at him, and for the first time, that familiar laugh scattered onto his walls. “I’m just not as intense about my filmography as you. I do still work, you know.”

“S’not what your IMDB page says.”

“You’ve kept tabs on me?” Oz teasingly mimicked him. But he smiled. “I do theatre these days. You should try it. You’d be amazing at it.”

“What’s college like?” Julian asked with a soft smile at him. “Do you like it?”

“It’s alright,” Oz laughed, indulging his need to change the topic. “I’d rather be on the stage. But having a degree is an important part of my fallback plan, and it’d make my parents feel better, so I trudge through it.” He smiled warmly at Julian. “You don’t need a backup plan, though. You’ve always known what you wanted and where you wanted to be.”

Those beautiful brown eyes just stared at him, looking big and a little haunted. “...do I?”

“You do,” Oz replied firmly, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “You always have. And if you don’t yet...well… you’ll figure it out.”

“I’m trying,” Julian’s voice started to waver, his hands cold and they shook. “I’m trying so hard but…I can’t see it yet.”

“You will,” Oz replied, staring back at him. “Julian, you… You know, you’re literally the weirdest kid I know? I have never in my life met anyone like you. When we were...when we were still a thing, I was intimidated by the fact that you had such a clear, definite goal in front of you. And it was a crazy stupid goal too, a freaking EGOT by age twenty-one, like—” he paused for a moment when he heard Julian let out a laugh, “—seriously, like in what universe does someone your age, my age have that insane goal with a refusal to accept any other outcome, and you were so intense about it that you were literally within reach of it, huh? And there was just me, like, happy to just get another casting…Hell, I could’ve done Youtube and been happy. I kept asking myself, who are you, why is this person going out with me, like…?”

He smiled as he waited for Julian to wipe his eyes. Then he added, “...you’re a freak in the way that… you figure it out. All the time. Like how a cat always lands on its feet. I mean I’m not going to say all your choices are great, but…” He shrugged. “You get there. And I know you’ll figure it out when you give yourself the chance to.”

“Cat…” Julian smiled faintly, looking as though he were remembering something. It was a pause before he suddenly said, “You know my mom got me one? Like...supposedly he’s an emotional support cat but I think she just got him for me for...companionship purposes.”

“Always good to have a friend,” Oz replied with a grin. Then he blinked in realization. “...is that why you came to me?”

“...I didn’t know if you’d care, if I dropped in without telling you,” Julian gave him an almost apologetic smile. “But I just...needed someone away from...all that.”

That was big. Bigger than Oz had expected. Julian Larson was not someone he knew to really need anyone. Even when they worked together in Something Damaged, it was like the show needed Julian and not the other way around. He even knew everyone’s lines better than they did.

“I’m just...trying to get better,” Julian whispered, reminding Oz that he’d gone quiet. “I thought...going to someone away from all this would help.”

Oz smiled and squeezed his hands reassuringly. “See…? I told you you’d know where to go.” He received a small smile for that. “Screw what everyone wants you to do. What do you want to do? Where do you want to be?”

It was like the question frightened him. Julian’s eyes were wide and he looked like he was looking for an answer. But was it really the question that worried him, or the answer?

Softly, Oz said, “Forget their expectations of you. And forget what you’re expecting of yourself. You haven’t let anything or anyone down. All this...it’s...just a setback. You’re getting back to your feet, that’s what it is. So… if there’s someplace you want to be, just for right now, or the immediate future… You should be there. Like when you picked to be here suddenly.”

He gave Julian an intent stare. “When you think of where you want to be...where’s the first place you think of…?”

Julian was very quiet as he stared back at him. But Oz knew, behind those brown eyes, he was seeing something or someone. A place or a person. Something. Like he was seeing an instant flashback. Julian did know where he wanted to be. He always did. Oz knew that well.

But wherever it is… it may not be a place he can be in just yet.

So he smiled instead. “Hey. You don’t have to go there this second. You don’t have to look so afraid. I’m not going to throw you out my door to go. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

“...I guess not.” Julian managed to smile.

“Well, if you’re not going anywhere for a bit, then…” Oz poured him another cup of tea, beaming at him and trying to lighten the mood. “So...tell me about your new cat, and I’ll tell you about theatre.”

“I would like that.”

~~~

[ask-the-riders]

Eager Deal Maker

Not all demons enjoy making deals and stealing souls

But most of them thrive off of it

((Gonna add some warnings for implied abuse, implied domestic disturbances, threats, manipulation, threats against animals, and dark themes))

The drama was a frequent occurrence within the household, and frankly, none of it came as a surprise anymore. If anything, the demon found it amusing, and the negative environment fed him well. It began when the dumb brunette harlot moved in with her worthless drunk of a boyfriend. Naturally, her teenage daughter went with her; Not that she was  given a choice on the matter. The woman’s boyfriend also had a daughter of his own, who’d made it clear from the very beginning that she had no interest in befriending the other girl.

Living together wasn’t always the best, but it was doable. Then the family relocated, and a little time passed before the woman’s eldest child moved in with them, absolutely riddled with anxiety and depression. Of course, while Othni relished those emotions, it was the fear and anger that blossomed there that really caught his attention. First it was from the pair of siblings and their overactive imaginations, causing them to fear their new home’s basement. They despised the dirt and cobwebs, the old, musty odor, and the various dark crawl spaces. Their minds painted the image of monsters lingering in the gloom, and more than once, they feared that if they looked into the darkness too long, they’d catch something looking back at them. Othni had been so very tempted to indulge their imagination a little, and he contemplated all the various forms he could take to scare them.

He never got the chance, though. The rage that took hold of the house was located on the second floor, and it was provided by the daughter of the mother’s boyfriend. She was so angry and often carried the stench of jealousy, and Othni was intrigued. She had such an easy life; So he didn’t understand what she had to be angry about. Her parents loved her, she didn’t have to work even a single moment to attain anything she currently owned, she had a loving boyfriend of her own, and she had virtually the entire upstairs of the house to herself. She was bitter and ungrateful, and Othni could hardly believe some of the things that she had the audacity to say to her father. Hell, if he’d even considered saying such things to his father…

Othni shook off those thoughts, refocusing his attention on the present moment. Right now, a fluffy black cat that belonged to the pair of siblings was staring at him from across the small living room, it’s large, green eyes locked on his every move. He paused, stopping in the doorway that connected the living room to the kitchen, and he arched an eyebrow, watching the cat tilt its head and take one tiny, cautious step toward him. Smiling slightly in amusement, the demon slowly lowered himself to the floor and sat down, turning his body a bit and facing away from the cat. As he’d expected, the fluffball continued to very cautiously approach him, stretching its neck and sniffing the air. This was a creature that was pure of heart, and he could tell how timid it was, so he did his best to stay as still as possible. 

Crouched low to the ground, it crept even closer, slowly making its way around him and sniffing at his arms and hands. Looking up at him with wide eyes, its mouth hung open as it tried to process the new scent, and he chuckled, amused by the way that particular expression looked on its face. A door slammed upstairs and the cat immediately bolted for the stairs, likely to go hide in its owners’ room. Othni made a face, pouting as he watched it leave; It was fluffy and timid, and it reminded him of his precious Misfit. It saddened him ever so slightly that the fluffball was gone now, but he shoved the feeling aside. After all, he could always see it some other time. 

The stairs creaked and he vanished into the shadows, quietly watching as the resident home-wrecker descended. Usually she emitted nothing but anger and jealousy, but at the moment, she gave off a sick, twisted sense of joy and satisfaction. Noting the cocky smirk she wore, he frowned; Oh, wonderful. Just what in the hell had she done now?

He waited for her to pass from the room before he warped through the shadows and manifested in the shadows that occupied the guest room. Careful to stay out of sight, he took a deep breath, sensing the anger, frustration, fear, and despair from across the hall. The elder sibling’s anxiety had grown so much that it was almost suffocating, and he furrowed his brows in puzzlement. Again, he warped through the shadows of the house, manifesting a second time within the siblings' closed bedroom closet. Listening in, he caught the sound of sniffling, as if one of them was crying. When they spoke, their voice shook, “If she does anything to him, I swear… I’m gonna throw the bitch down the damn stairs. I’m not letting her get away with this.” As they spoke, he could hear the anger and venom that were laced into their words, and he tilted his head. 

He was all for violence and revenge, but just what was going on? The one that was speaking was usually so reserved and considerate of others. They reeked of kindness and empathy, and this was incredibly out of character for them. Willing to risk being seen, he warped through the small gap beneath the door, quickly finding a new spot just outside one of their windows. Peering inside, his eyes scanned the room before they settled on a piece of paper that laid on the foot end of one of their beds. Squinting a bit, he focused in on it, and then immediately bristled. On it, there was a threat to kill their cat, along with an additional insult. From the brief meeting he’d had with their little black fluffball, he could tell that it was a sweetheart. In such a short amount of time, it reminded him so much of Misfit that he felt his long dead heart give a small pulse in affection, and he found himself already harboring the urge to protect it. This… This wouldn’t fly. If these humans didn’t do something to protect it, then he’d be taking it with him, and that was all there was to it. 

“I can see you out there!” The other siblings' words caught Othni by surprise and he jolted, quickly ducking out of their line of sight. Hiding in the shadows again, he listened as the first sibling questioned them, frowning as they gave their response, “There was a shadow out there. It was all dark, and then I saw it move.” The demon mentally kicked himself for not being more careful and he remained frozen in place, waiting for their conversation to change before he moved again. When it did eventually drift back to the subject from before, he prepared to move, but then abruptly stopped, listening as he caught the tail end of something the first sibling had said, “-I wish demons were real. At this point, I’d willingly give one of them my damn soul if it meant getting rid of that bitch and keeping Bubby safe.”

A lightbulb went off in the demon’s mind, and a wide, sharp toothed grin stretched across his face; An opportunity to make a deal had just presented itself, it seemed. He didn’t even care if he laid claim to their soul or not, all that mattered was protecting their little feline friend. Grinning devilishly to himself in delight, he warped back into their closet and waited. Some time passed before their light shut off and the room became illuminated by nothing more than a small, handheld lamp, and he prepared himself, his tail and claws disappearing, his sharpened teeth becoming dull and human while his eyes faded and turned emerald green. He allowed his greyed skin to shift, becoming a more human looking color before he rapped on the door exactly three times and waited. 

Naturally, a few expletives slipped from their mouths, and he arched a brow. There was the sound of movement before the closet door slowly opened after a moment and the pair of siblings gawked at him. Clearing his throat, he took the most polite tone he could manage, “One of you wished for a demon to solve your recent problems for you, so here I am.” While the elder of the two continued to stare at him, the younger one seemed taken aback, “Uhh, no, we didn’t. Who the hell are you, and why are you in our closet?” The demon  couldn’t help the amused grin that found its way onto his face and he tilted his head, “One of you said they’d willingly give up their soul to get rid of that dunderheaded doxy across the hall and to keep your pet safe.” The younger sibling shot a look at the elder of the two, and the elder seemed to shrink back a bit, offering them a small, guilty smile. 

Shifting his attention to them, he hummed, “I presume it was you?” They sheepishly nodded, not quite meeting his gaze, and he warped through the distance between them, “Luckily for you, I can do that. I can get rid of her, and I can make sure your cat is safe. You caught me on a good day, so I won’t even ask for your soul.” The elder of the two siblings regarded him with a look of clear suspicion, narrowing their eyes, “…What would you be getting out of it? You’re a demon, so I don’t think you’d ever do anything just for the sake of being nice.” He chuckled lowly to himself; Oh, so they were a clever one. How interesting. 

The demon shrugged his shoulders, noting the way their cheeks reddened the slightest bit as he drew even closer to them and leaned down, wrapping an arm around them. Lowering his voice, Othni murmured, “I saw the note she left, where she threatened to kill your cat.” He paused, slowly letting his appearance shift back to normal. As his fair skin became greyed and his teeth sharpened, his eyes began to glow a vibrant shade of blue and his tail appeared, unwinding from around his waist. It curled around the elder sibling’s waist and he dug his clawed fingertips into the fabric of their shorts as he purred, “As you can probably imagine, I happen to love cats. If someone has the audacity to kill a cat, then I kill them. Simple as that.” Registering the change in his appearance, the tail around their waist, and his words, their eyes widened and they froze, unsure what to do.

Sensing this, he lifted his free hand, delicately turning their head so they’d meet his gaze. As their eyes met his, he offered them a sharp, charming grin, “While your soul would be a nice little add-on to this deal, I don’t need it. All I want is the satisfaction of ridding this home of someone who’d dare hurt an innocent animal. All you’d have to do is keep your mouth shut and let me feed off of the growing negativity here.” He stole a glance at the younger sibling, “Both of you. Do you think you could do that?” The siblings shared a look, the younger one nodding first before the elder nodded back. Meeting Othni’s gaze again, the elder sibling made a soft sound in agreement, “Yeah… We could do that.” He seemed to light up, his grin widening, “Wonderful, I’m glad! Since I am still making a deal with you though, I’ll need you to shake my hand.” Offering them a blackened hand, he patiently waited as they internally battled with themselves. 

A few seconds passed before they hesitantly took his hand, and his grin became mischievous. He tightened his grip on their hand and dug his claws into their skin, drawing a small amount of blood as he hissed, “Excellent, I’ll get started immediately, then. I’d suggest putting your headphones on… You might not want to hear the screams.” 

[warpriest-writings]

Red eyes on Grandmother's grave. 

    Sticks broke under her feet, running as fast and hard as she could but it felt like running through jelly, her feet caked in heavy mud. 

“Someone! Help me!!! Please!” She cried out but couldn’t hear her own voice.

Before her was the pair of sharp, red eyes out in the middle distance. She couldn’t make out a face; she wasn’t even sure if the eyes were attached to anythin, just floating there, haunting her. Those hungry, starved eyes that wanted to devour her. The eyes just hung there as she sat there frozen. 

“What do you want!?” she screamed out, but again her words came out silent. 

The sharp, red eyes narrowed, then rushed towards her as a hand reached out at her.

With a difficult, almost pained, inhalation of breath, Patsy woke with a startled jump, accidently knocking her kitty out of bed.

She gasped, “Bean! Come here. Mweh, mweh.” She made kissy noises to her large Maine Coon. Rubbing her fingers together as she did so attempting to soothe Bean and entice her to come back into the bed. Not that Bean needed much convincing; no one in the Desoto household could remember a single night that cat hasn’t slept in Patsy’s bed. By the time she got Bean back in bed and started petting her, Patsy had almost entirely forgotten her nightmare about the...was she running? Regardless, after several minutes of kitty snuggles, she checked her phone, loathing to discover that it was 5:53, merely thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been lucky enough to wake up from her scary dream at a reasonable 1:17, or even a moderate 3:32. Good, god given times in the early morning a girl could go back to sleep too. Patsy sighed and entered an anxious state of contemplation, debating getting in the shower now and getting that out of her morning routine or laying there, blissfully enjoying the time before she had to get up for real. An absolute miserable time that went on in her head until her alarm went off. Ah, yes, neither productive nor relaxing. Thank you, Anxiety.

Getting out of bed with a less than encouraging groan, Patsy began her morning routine. Feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted by 6:45 AM, Patsy walked briskly down the stairs while putting her long and bouncy kinky hair into a ponytail.

“Morning, Mom!” 

Her mom, Elana, looked back at her as some toast popped out of the toaster, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Joseph, her dad, poured two cups of coffee before handing one to his wife as she handed him the plate of now buttered toast. “Hey, Pats. Finished your homework last night?” Giving Elana a quick kiss.

“Course, Dad,” she said, silently beaming that her parents were still happily married after nearly sixteen years; it was more than could be said about several of her friends at school.

Her mother was the manager at a local small diner, it was a nice little place, near enough to her school that Patsy would usually walk there at the end of the day and hang out with her friends or finish her homework before her mom’s shift ended at six when the night manager came in. Her father worked from home, and studied. Technically, he was still a student at the University of Illinois, but he worked a lot of sub contracted programming and coding jobs on the side. Once she asked him why he was still in college and his reply was, “Sometimes people are just...nervous about getting out there, and sometimes you just so happen to be very good at filling out grant applications. Your momma has a steady job that takes care of us, and my work on the side makes sure we stay in the green.” 

“Need a ride to school today, Pats?” her dad said, snapping Patsy out of it.

“I’m good; I kinda want some time to just think,” she told him.

“It’d be nothing, it’s getting colder out and I love driving my babygirl to-”

“Joseph,” her mother interrupted.

He backed down, “Alright, alright. Letting Pats be all independent.” 

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll have breakfast at school today, I’m going to get going,” Patsy said.

Joseph began reaching into his pocket, “Need money?”

“I’m good, I still have twenty from helping out at the diner.”

“Now hold on, that’s your money. It’s our job to feed you,” he said, and offered her a five, “Take it, and make sure you grab an apple or an orange or something those school food scientist freaks can’t turn into half-baked prison sloop."

Patsy nodded, “Okay, okay.” She took the money, then gave her dad a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Love you, mom. Love you, dad.” Then grabbed her backpack from a kitchen table chair and made her way to the door, only partially catching what her dad was saying about Patsy being braver than he was for voluntarily eating school food.

From her house it was roughly a twenty-minute walk to school. Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity for a quick ride to school, but her mind was still preoccupied by that dream. Most of it was lost, faded just beyond her consciousness’s reach. Those red eyes; Patsy could still see them crystal clearly in her mind. She could almost feel them on her back now. Patsy shuttered at the thought.

As she walked she barely heard the wizzing of bike tires until they were right behind her, lost in her thoughts Patsy made a sound reminiscent of an “Eek!” and jumped off to the grass beside the sidewalk. The biker slowed to a stop, “Miss. Pascala, are you alright?”

He knew her name? Patsy looked at the biker, as she had been largely looking at her moving feet up until that point and the fact that from her perspective the biker was right in front of the morning sun, she had to squint and couldn’t really make out his face, “Uh, yes. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Hmm?” he took off his helmet, revealing quite the head of curly locks, “Miss. Pascala, a little out of it this morning?”

As her eyes adjusted she suddenly realized, “OH! Mr. Morales, sorry. It was all sunny, and I was kinda lost in my thoughts, and I’ll just stop talking now.”

Her history teacher looked at her with a bit of a raised eyebrow, “I shall see you in the third period, Miss. Pascala, have a pleasant walk. Homework is due by the end of class.” He awkwardly coughed and rode off, quickly moving into the bicycle lane of the road.

Sometime later, after what is by all rights and definitions a poor excuse of a breakfast that would send Mr. DeSoto into a rambling state of disbelief that this was the best that taxpayer money could do for feeding America’s youth, as well as Patsy’s first hour math class (math first period of the day, she was convinced that the school gods hated her) and her second period economics class where they learned..something, Patsy was sure of that. She remembers taking notes and everything. There was a presentation with slides and everything, so they must have learned something...So after econ was her history class with Mr. Morales.

She liked Mr. Morales, more than her math teacher that’s for sure. “Math is the language of the universe.” She was taking English and French and frankly didn’t feel like she had time for a third language course. Mr. Morales was different, he got swept away with the subject sometimes and seemed to have a real love for it.

“We can learn much from history, but the people who made it weren’t trying to teach morals, and they weren’t thinking about just how important that what they were doing took place in 1776, or during the first or second half of the twelfth century. The past is made up of the actions of people who were concerned with living their lives, and if what they were doing was the right thing to do, or the right thing for them.” Mr. Morales said on the first day of school. He was also just a bit odd. His thick curly hair, a trait he described as indicative of his strong greek heritage, was peppered ever so slightly. Otherwise he held onto his youth remarkably well. looking closer to mid twenties rather than late thirties.

After the class ended, Patsy went up to her teacher, “Uh, Sir, excuse me.”

Mr. Morales looked up from his tablet from which he often powered through novels, “Hmm, yes, Miss. Pascala?”

“I was just going over that pop quiz you handed back today and I would have gotten one hundred percent if you didn’t mark my answer for question two wrong.” She said,

He set his tablet down, “That is usually how people do not get full marks. Allow me to double check that.” He held his hand open.

Patsy handed him the paper, “You see, I’m certain the correct answer is B and I’d like to get full credit.”

“Third century B.C. Yes, you are correct. I’ll be sure to update the gradebook and parent portal to reflect this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss. Pascala, I imagine I marked everyone else who answered as you did as incorrect as well.”

He handed her back the quiz after remarking her score and immediately wrote a note he then stuck to his computer monitor.

She excused herself and left with a bright smile, making her way to her next class, and then on and so forth with her day. As she was heading towards her computer typing class after lunch (which was not notably better than the breakfast, it is a wonder that these children survive long enough to eat microwaved ramen in college dorms.) She accidentally bumped into the Principle as she was turning a corner.

“Ooft!” She said, feeling like she walked into a lumpy brick wall.

Principal Robertson cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the young lady, “It is not becoming to run down the hails and blindly around corners.”

He had been the principal at her school for well over fifteen years now, and he seemed to live for it. Participating in school spirit events and playing along with the dress up days, at least he did last year. No one wanted to really mention it but over the summer he lost a lot of weight and his skin got paler...greyer was almost more accurate. Hushed rumors said he was diagnosed with some cancer or another but refused to stop working while on chemo and Patsy wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Looking down at her now she wasn’t feeling very comfortable.

“I, uh, I really need to get to class.” Patsy said

The sickly Principal sighed a heavy breath, “Just slow down.”

“Right, of course. Thank you Mr. I mean, Principal Robertson.” With that she took off, carefully walking not-to-quickly.

Passing around the next corner and with her computer lab in sight Patsy let out her own sigh of relief. The bell ringing just steps away, “Whyyyyyyy?” Patsy said in a hushed, exasperated tone.

She quickly rushed into the room and to her seat, hoping maybe she wouldn’t be marked late. The class lesson began and she got to work with her typing program. 

“Hey, Patsy,” Her friend Abby said, “Think your mom would give me a ride home after her shift at the dinner?”

“Course, Abbs.” She replied, “You getting anywhere with these?”

“Not really, my hands know the keyboard but my words per minute is garbage.” Abby said.

“My words per minute is fine, but I have to force myself to type the way that we’re supposed to. It doesn’t help that at home I always just type with my pointer and middle fingers.”

“You type a lot at home?” She asked, “Are you writing something?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “No! of course not...I just look up a lot of random stuff when I’m bored.” She must never know.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Mhm, right.” 

Over the intercom the school receptionist called out, “Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office, Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office.

Abby winced, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She tried to return it, her thoughts were racing. Surely she wasn’t being called down to the Office for accidentally bumping into the Principal in the hallway was she? Why wouldn’t he just take her there right after she did it then? Maybe it wasn’t about anything she did at all. Oh God...what if her dad accidentally started another grease fire trying to make home fries? What if Mom got into an accident on her way to the dinner? Her mind was a beehive that someone just punted halfway across a football field. 

The receptionist must have noticed the worry on her face and gave her a very sweet smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. Just keep your chin up and remember none of this will matter in ten years.” Reassuring words, either her parents were fine or she was just as unsure why she called down Patsy as she was herself.

Bracing herself mentally, Patsy opened the door and pushed it to the magnetic door stopper that held it open.

“Closer the door behind you, Miss. DeSoto.” Principal Robertson said.

Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so destressed over this. She hadn’t done anything as far as she could remember or mentally justify. She closed the door, getting a last glimpse of Mrs. O'Riley, the nice receptionist.

Run! Every nerve in her body screamed out but she moved forward to sit in the chair opposite Principal Robertson at his desk anyway. He spoke up; she only saw his lips move, the words not landing correctly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Could you say that again?” She asked.

His brow furrowed, “I do not care for repeating myself, Miss. Desoto.”

She sank in the chair. “Sorry.”

“And do not mumble. Speak clearly or not at all!” 

Patsy sat back up in her seat in shock, “Principal Robertson, I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me like that.”

“Do not speak back to me, you’re the one in trouble here.” He said venomously.

Trembling she stood up, “I need to go.”

He got up as well, “I think not, DeSoto. You’ve been hiding really well, tricked everyone but not me.” He licked his upper lip.

A full body chill ran through her entire being and oddly, in retrospect she felt, Patsy really wanted her kitty Bean there. She said, “Principal Robertson, you can’t be serious right now!? Think….think about your wife!”

Robertson frowned hideously, “That bint isn’t important.” He smiled, which was so much more disturbing to the young lady, “not like you, DeSoto, you have been worth all of my effort and patience.”

He reached out for her when the door opened, “Principal Robertson,” called out an all too reassuring voice, “I was wondering if you had the chance to look over those field trip papers I….” His hand less than two inches away from her, Patsy’s whole body was trembling but she couldn’t make her legs run.

Mr. Morales stood in the open doorway, his eyes moving quickly from Patsy to Robertson. “Miss. Pascala, behind me.” He said putting himself between them.

The Principal scowled in frustration, “I’m not entirely sure what you think you are doing, Linus. You are acting like I am some sort of threat to the girl.”

“This doesn’t look good, James.” Mr. Morales replied.

Robertson scowled deeper, and Patsy in that moment of fear and confusion thought his scowl pulled unnaturally at his skin. 

Mr. Morales raised his hands defensively, “What are you?” Striking a serious tone with his voice that she had never heard from her history teacher before. It was a cold voice that set her skin on edge almost as much as Principal Robertson had.

Before her eyes the late fifties Principal of clear declining health grabbed Mr. Morales  and threw him against a glass case containing various trophies for academic and sports accomplishments. Patsy left out a loud scream and Mrs. O’Riley’s own scream wasn’t far behind. 

Later the police officers that responded to the Receptionist's call would ask Patsy what happened next, and she told them the truth. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what exactly happened. Mr. Morales, who had bruised ribs, and some cuts from the glass but was thankfully otherwise alright, shouted something that didn’t make sense to her at Robertson and the Principal ran off. She didn’t get to hear what Mr. Morales told them but they questioned him for a good long while. 

School was cancelled early and parents were furiously calling the school board and the district for answers. There was a warrant issued for Robertson, and some people were threatening to pull their kids altogether. No one wants their kids to go to the school where the principal threatened a fifteen year old girl and assaulted a teacher. 

Superintendent Wilkens sent a parent portal wide email that a warrant was formally filed against Mr. Robertson and the police had opened an investigation. In addition to Resource Officer Thomas three more Iron county police officers would be stationed at the school for security and rest assured that school would be open again Friday.

“No, no...this is ridiculous. My daughter was threatened by that man.” Patsy’s dad said to the Superintendent’s secretary. “Don’t put me on hold! ….Yes, I believe that you do have another call coming in. I….” he sighed heavily, and tossed his cellphone into the living room sofa.

“Sweetheart.” Elana said, putting her hands tenderly on Joseph’s shoulders.

“We worked with that man in the ice cream socal last year, Laney.”

Just out of their sight, sitting against the hallway wall Patsy hugged Bean. Now more than ever the tridactyl kitty gave her some comfort. She kept replaying it over in her mind, Robertson’s face looked so...uncanny valley. Elana had tried to reassure her that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to think that he was somehow less than human because of how he was acting. 

Her phone buzzed, touching the wall it tapped rapidly and loudly and Patsy reactively tried to grab it before her parents noticed.

“Pats? Babygirl, I thought you were laying down.” Her dad said, walking over to her, flipping the hallway light on. “Well, I thought you were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be laying down.”

She gave Bean a little squeeze like when she was littler, “I tried, but I couldn’t take a nap.”

“It’s okay, Pats. How'bout I make up some of my famous root beer floats?”

She slowly nodded, “That would be good.”

“Come on, Patsy.” Elana said, “We can sit at the table while your father makes us a feel better treat.” 

She got up and walked over to the kitchen table, Bean closely trailing her like always. “Hey, think I could maybe sleep in your guys' bed tonight?”

Elana quickly glanced at her husband, the pair of them sharing a whole conversation in a moment.

“Of course, Pats.” Her dad said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“It’ll be like when you crawled in my bed when you were little after a nightmare woke you up.” Elana said.

Her father was scooping ice cream into three tall milkshake glasses as Patsy pulled Elana into a hug, “Thank you for being my mom.” she said softly.

Elana returned the hug, remembering the first time Patsy told that to her and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was Pascala's mom, there wasn’t any doubt of that. She didn’t give birth to Patsy though. Her birth mom and Joseph’s first wife passed away when she was less than six months old, an oncoming driver didn’t stop at the red light as she was going through the intersection on her way home from work. Elana was her birth mother’s best friend and Patsy’s godmother. After the funeral she just kept helping Joseph out with Patsy, eventually moving in with them. Joseph and Elana married when she was seven, but she had really always been her mom.

As frustrated as he was with the situation, Joseph did his best to cool down and help Patsy feel better, telling his corny dad jokes he spent hours and hours looking up at his computer desk. 

He spent almost a half hour that night checking and double checking that every door and window was locked that night, as well as making sure their security system was armed. Unlike Patsy, who almost couldn’t sleep without Bean snuggled next to her, Elana found the heavy cat overly warm but she gritted her teeth through it for Patsy’s sake.

The next morning, Thursday, the day after her high school Principal threatened her, assaulted a teacher and just disappeared. She woke up to the smell of her dad making eggs, over cooking them. Elana always made them a little runny. Everything seemed to run by a little slowly. Like she had been jerked out of a deep daydream and couldn’t pull herself entirely out of her own head.

Around noon she and her mom were watching a cartoon as Joseph entered the room on the phone, “I see, well, thank you, Linus. Yes? I’ll ask her now, we were planning on going to the diner for lunch anyway.” He pulled the phone slightly away from his face and turned to the pair on the sofa, “Pats, Mr. Morales is out of the hospital. He asked if it would be alright if he met us at the diner today.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief hearing he was out, that meant he was okay, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Joseph put the phone back to his face, “She’s okay with it. We’ll see you there at one. Yep, bye, it was good hearing from you too. And...thank you, Linus.” he hung up and put his phone into his pocket. “He said the superintendent pushed the school’s opening back to Monday, I guess we angry few can make a difference.”  

Elana pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat cross legged, turning towards him, “That’s great! I think that’s what WIlken’s should have done from the start, but hey. So we’ll be eating with Patsy’s english teacher?”

“History teacher.” Patsy said, correcting her.

“Linus is also one of my work associates, but yes. He just wants to check in with Pats.”

She nodded, “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower before we go.” 

She gave Joseph a quick kiss on the cheek as she left the room, her husband replacing her spot on the sofa.

Patsy gave her dad a big hug. “So Mr. Morales is alright?”

“Some cuts and bruises but he sounded alright, he didn’t talk about himself much.” Joseph said.

Before long they were sitting down as Margret, one of the servers at the diner, was bringing over a pot of coffee for Joseph and Elana and a Shirley temple for Patsy. “Hey, Patsy.” the retirement age waitress said, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay, Margret.” She said, putting on a cheerful voice.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll be sure to bring you over the biggest slice of cake.” She said

“Yay cake!”

Elana laughed a little, “We’re going to wait to order, Margie. We’re waiting on another person.”

The older waitress nodded her head slightly, “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll be back in two shakes with your refreshments.” With that she was off to serve some of the other customers, or guests as corporate would like they be referred to.

The three of them chatted while they waited for Mr. Morales, while they did Patsy’s thoughts drifted to the bizarre notion that when you see someone you only ever see at school, or school related events that when you see them out and about in everyday life the person is suddenly almost unrecognizable. Like in those children sitcom shows where someone says “Wait, you mean teachers don’t live at school??” or something else mildly insulting to the audience about their perceived intelligence. Still, Patsy wondered if it was going to be super weird seeing Mr. Morales not just outside of school, but on purpose outside of school. He normally dressed in clean but not ironed dress pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt, either a button up or a sweater; would he be wearing a rock and roll band t shirt and shorts? What if he wears his curly hair in a manbun outside of work? The horror.

It was almost a disappointment when Mr. Morales showed up in tan dress pants and a blue sweater, as well as a sling that held his left arm, some bandaging on his cheek with some purplish bruising around its edges.

“Linus,” her dad said, “Glad you could make it.”

“We’re both just so grateful for what you did yesterday.” Elana said as her husband scooted further into the booth, making room for him.

“Oh, I only did what any good samaritan should have in the situation.” Mr. Morales said, sitting down. “Ah!” He smiled at the pot of coffee sitting on the table, “May I? I’m afraid I skipped my usual morning cup...come to think of it, skipped most of my usual morning routine today.” 

“Go ahead, refills are free.” Patsy said.

“Are they?” He asked with a smile, awkwardly pouring himself a hot cup.

Margret returned, prompting her mom to say that they’ll probably need a few minutes for Mr. Morales to decide what he wants.

“Oh, go ahead.” The teacher reassured, “ I know what I want, a short stack of pancakes, and two pieces of bacon on the chewier side.”

“Oh, alright!” Elana said, “Brunch it is then, I guess we’re ready to order. Patsy, you go first.”

Patsy put in her order, a belgian waffle with strawberries and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Her father ordered the same as Mr. Morales, but he wanted his bacon crispy. Elana ordered two sunny side up eggs and some toast to dunk in the yolk. With that Margaret took off again.

“It just seemed so...out of nowhere.” Patsy said, suddenly.

Surprised, Elana reactively gave her a side hug, “No one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, Sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“Principal Robertson wasn’t...normal, right?” She asked, addressing her teacher.

Mr. Morales avoided her gaze, looking down into his coffee.

“Pats, Robertson wasn’t the man we thought he was, or he changed or something messed up.” her dad said.

“You saw his face too, right Mr. Morales, you asked him what he was.”

Her parents, worried for Patsy, then looked to the teacher they invited out.

“Miss. Pascala, I don’t know what had gotten into him, or what had become of him. That certainly wasn’t the man I have worked with for over two years now, but rest assured. He wasn’t some abnormality, he was a man, a man who revealed himself to be quite the monster.” Mr. Morales said finally, just as their food arrived.

To her parent’s relief, Patsy dropped the subject. They ate and her dad asked Mr. Morales how she was doing in his class.

“She is an ideal student” he told them, “Attentive, curious, she has a mind for nuance, and seems to genuinely want to understand why people did what they had done in the history lessons.” Which unfortunately made her quite uncomfortable, like she was in a parent-teacher conference all of all of a sudden.

As Patsy began to withdraw into herself, Elana asked her, “So, Patsy, is there anything else you’d like to do in town today before we head home?” She hoped to bring Patsy back to the surface of her own mind.

“Huh?” Patsy asked, she heard what her mom said, but her brain hadn’t really processed it yet. Something it usually would do about a split second after someone repeated what they said to her. “Oh, uh...well I was hoping we could go swing by grandma’s grave?” She stated her request with the inflection of a question. Her grandma wasn’t buried very far from where they lived. However, she knew that her dad always had a hard time going. He stayed in the car when they visited her grave a couple weeks before school started.

Joseph swallowed hard, but nodded, “Of course, babygirl.”

Mr. Morales raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had family buried here. I was under the impression that your family moved here from Louisiana.”

“We did, but Joseph is from here originally, we moved back here after his mother got sick.” Elana explained.

Mr. Morales turned his gaze back to his coffee, “I see.” Patsy could see his eyes darting swiftly like he either realized something or was thinking very swiftly. She felt like she could relate. “Miss. Pascala, Joseph, Elana. Please do not take me for overreaching but I’m not sure it is safe for the three of you to go to a location like that right now. If Robertson is following you it would be quite the place for an ambush.”

“Linus, don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” Joseph said, something of a warning in his voice. 

“No, dad, it’s alright.” Patsy said, “Mr. Morales, do you really think it’s a bad idea to go to the cemetery?”

Mr. Morales looked to Joseph, who wore an expression that clearly said “Be careful how you say things.” He looked back at Patsy, with a small sigh, “I think, perhaps you should at least wait under after school starts up again Monday? Thank you all for this lovely meal, but I think I should be going. This should cover my food.” He swiftly got up and pulled his wallet out and with just his right hand awkwardly pulled out some bills. Leaving forty dollars on the table as he took off.

“I think you scared him.” Elana said simply, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They ultimately didn’t go to the cemetery, to both the annoyance and relief of her father. In fact they stayed in for the rest of the day. Watching TV, playing a popular kart racing game which Joseph began quite smuggly. Only to lose to his daughter because of an npc driver launching a nuclear option that blasted him back to third place less than half the track away from victory.

Patsy told her parents that she felt comfortable enough to go to bed in her own room that night, and Elana made chicken parm hero sandwiches. All in all the day drifted by quickly after their lunch with the odd Mr. Morales. It was almost 10 at night when she finally told her parents she was going to bed, and they reaffirmed their own tiredness from the day and wouldn’t be up much longer themselves.

Of course, Patsy wasn’t really going to bed.

She stayed up for hours, just to be sure they had actually fallen asleep. Her dad. Patsy disarmed the security system and left the house, heading straight for the cemetery. She had to see her grandmother’s gravestone. Something about how Mr. Morales reacted just didn’t sit right with her. It had to be around 1:20 in the morning now and it was very dark and while it was brisk out during the day her fingers quickly started going numb and she could see her breath.

The ground of the cemetery was hard and bumpy from thawing into wet muddy ground under the sun during the day. Patsy walked through the cemetery at a brisk pace, wanting to get to her grandma's grave and back before her parents could wake up to find out she snuck out of the house...or worse she was taken by Robertson. The made her stomach clench up, and she began regretting this whole idea. There was a rustling in the bushes and she began to sprint, she felt like running home and forgetting all of this but she was painfully aware she was heading right towards the grave.

She came to a quick stop, looking down at the engraved stone. Ellinore DeSoto, 1961 to 2017. She knelt down, tears building in her eyes. Deep down she knew coming here now was a mistake, her grandma wouldn’t want her sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, especially not under the current circumstances.

She sniffled, alright she got to the gravestone and proved exactly nothing. Time to get home as fast as she possibly could and swear off stupid impulsive decsions forever.

The wet smacking of lips that made her skin crawl.

“Pr.principal Robertson?” She tentatively asked, standing up and turning towards the gross sound. Her eyes widened in grotesque terror as she looked at the swollen thing that only scarcely held the appearance of her principal, the purplish grey skin stretched uncomfortably tight as the creature smiled wider than nature as she knew it allowed.

“Pascala Desoto,” It still spoke with Principal Robertson’s voice. “So courteous of you to come to me, now we may continue your...disciplinary measures, young lady.” The creature stuck out it’s purple tongue which extended down past its belly.

Patsy wanted to run, scream, anything, but her legs refused to move. Her body frozen. It walked up closer to her, and it’s foul breath was like a thick miasma that made her lungs clench up and burnt her throat, she couldn’t even tremble in fear.

“Speechless, DeSoto?” It leaned in and inhaled deeply by her hair, it chucked out as it spoke, “Yeeheeehesss. Your flesh will do, your form will do.”

Over the creature’s shoulder Pascala saw another, and the ghoul’s smile turned into a scowl. Apparently it noticed him as well.  It wrapped it’s unnaturally large hands around her, its index finger on her shoulder and its pinky on her waist. Turning to face him it snarled out, “This is my Witch, get your own.”

The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight, the beams catching on his glasses, “Let her go, Corpse eater.” He held a revolver in one hand, and an old medieval looking sword in the other. His arm wasn’t in the sling anymore and he didn’t look injured at all.

“Morales, I knew I should have crushed your throat when-”

Her teacher cocked the pistol and aimed it right at his head.

“G...go ahead. I am not something you can kill with a bullet.” The ghoul said smugly.

“In your state it will hurt, it’ll be a whole world of agony.” Morales said, calling the monster’s bluff.

It took a slight step back, balking out a grunt in some fear. “We can split her! I don’t need her blood!”

Patsy’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Pascala. This thing won’t harm you...and survive.” His voice was cold again, and she couldn’t help but feel an intense fear. Maybe from the slight tremors she felt through the ghoul’s hand, but somehow she knew that this thing that used to be her Principal was terrified.

“I can’t go back to the corpses people bury, they poison them, and every time I feed I whimper in agony for years, only to need to feed again, the cycle is torture! Have mercy!” The ghoul begged.

“You do not want my mercy, Corpse eater. It is at the end of my sword.” He began walking forward.

The ghoul released Patsy and pinched her throat, “Another step and I’ll break her neck!”

Reactively she reached up at the monster’s finger’s “I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, were she in a more clear headed situation she may have realized she can move again.

Mr. Morales paused, scowling back at the hellish beast. 

“That’s right! You...you have a fondness for her, your student, HAH! So long as I have her in my grasp you won’t risk harming her.” The ghoul grinned hideously in it’s little victory.

Her history class teacher inhaled sharply, then said, “If you are going to do something, now would be the time!”

Principal Robertson the ghoul frowned, “What are you playing at?!” 

Out from the bushes a large orange cat ran up much faster than Patsy had ever seen in her life and pounced on the ghoul’s forearm, clawing and tearing at it. The ghoul released her and she dropped, quickly and frantically crawling into an upright sprint several yards away from the monster.

Bean used the ghoul as a springboard and sprinted over to Patsy. The Ghoul was screaming and clutching the wounds the cat had left on it, as Morales lunged forward and with a clean swift strike cleaved the monster’s head from it’s shoulders.

Patsy’s breaths were short, and she pulled Bean into her arms as she tried to calm down. Morales wiped his blade off on the grass before sheathing it and steeping over to his student as he holstered his gun.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Pascala.” He said, “Are you alright?”

“What, what was that!?” She asked, looking at the ghoul’s limp body.

He paused, like he was unsure he could answer, “...Is there any world where you could accept that this was all a bad dream?”

She shook her head, “No, I have nightmares all the time, this is real.” Patsy looked at her teacher and gasped, she tried to step back but only fell backwards. “Those eyes!”

Mr. Morales sighed, and pulled his glasses from his face. His eyes were a hungry deep red. “Please, Miss. Pascala, I mean you no harm. You have my word, my oath as a man who has spent his very long life guiding the minds of the youth, and protecting everyone who I find in need of help.”

She tried to steady her breath, with Bean in her arms she felt much bolder and confident, “Those eyes, I’ve seen them in my nightmares, I trusted you and you’re another one of those things!” She pointed to the ghoul.”

He was taken aback, and gestured at his face, “You’ve seen these eyes in your dreams? Miss. Pascala, I assure you I am not a corpse eater.” He grabbed his lip and pulled it up, revealing a long and sharp fang. “I am a vampire, and amazingly you seemed to have augured my presence in your dreams.”

She stared at the fang with wide, slightly horrified eyes. “...Huh.”

“Huh. That...is a first.” The Vampire said, “I imagine you have questions, and you deserve answers. Especially if you refuse to accept this night was just a bad dream.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, trust me I’m trying. Still here, next to my vampire history teacher.”

“Very well, Miss. Pascala. This ghoul was hunting you because you are a Sorceress, and whoever gave you that cat was as well. Seeing as how that animal is a Familiar, your Familiar.” He said, “Monday, come to my class after school, and I will tell you more. For now just go home, you’ll be safe there with the cat. I need to clean this up before anyone comes by and finds it.”

It was be a difficult thing to believe that Patsy would just accept things at that, that she would just go home and enjoy her long weekend with her folks, and she could just scratch Bean behind the ear knowing she was some magical protector her Secret Sorceress Grandma had given to her as a little kitten. That she could be nearly eaten and just go back to bed. All that can be agreed upon is that Patsy got out of bed the next morning around 10:30, that she took a shower and had slightly runny scrambled eggs for breakfast. Another thing that can be certain is that Patsy would never doubt what happened, what she saw and what she heard, and that the story of Pascala DeSoto, The Sorceress of Illinois had only begun. 

End Chapter

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[spicysoftsweet]

Chapter 9

Masterlist

tw character death

Mitsuya was used to listening to crying, comfortable even. It was a normal human response after all, and his sisters cried all the time.

But Kumi cried in a very odd way he wasn’t exactly prepared for. Without warning, in the middle of a conversation about her and his plans for high school and beyond, tears had started to run down her cheeks and her speech had paused for a moment, before she continued to speak as though nothing had happened.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand as though she’d simply sprung a leak, and promptly continued, her voice wobbling a little, but still smiling.

“I-if I at least stay in T-Tokyo after graduation, we can still be friends even if we don’t go to the same high school, right?”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why wouldn’t we stay friends?” He asked, confused.

She grinned widely from across the low table in his home, her eyes shining still.

“Promise you won’t get tired of me.”

Mitsuya looked at Kumi’s obvious forced smile and wondered if Toman was the only thing Baji had dropped. His behavior was stranger than usual definitely, but maybe he was really just showing his true colors. Even if defecting to an opposing gang was unreasonable (even by Baji standards), Baji and Kazutora had always been terribly close, and if Kazutora changed, so could the latter.

“I won’t,” he replied.

He, like Mikey, didn’t want to end up fighting his friend, but he wouldn’t mind landing one solid punch for good measure.

---

“I don’t know if I wanna be an angel this year,” Kumi mused as she walked out of the convenience store down the street with her best friend trailing closely behind her. She unwrapped a lollipop, sighing before popping it into her mouth. “You get to look cute and sexy in the devil costume and I’m probably going to look like a nun,” she pouted.

Kaksi took the bag of discounted pre-Halloween candy from her and fished for a milk chocolate bar, unwrapping it for a bite.

“We can trade if you want.”

Kumi turned to her with surprise, but Kaksi grinned appropriately devilishly.

“But you won’t look scary at all, so how can you be a devil?” With that, she held the bar in her teeth and squished Kumi’s cheeks, causing the latter to frown and swat away at her hands.

“Stop!” She whined.

Kaksi laughed louder, which led to her chocolate falling to the ground which had her gasp in dismay.

“Karma,” Kumi pretend-disguised the remark with a loud cough, wincing as Kaksi gave her a slap on the shoulder, then giggled back. “Don’t worry, you can have mine.”

“As I deserve,” Kaksi said, then glanced at her watch. “We should head there quickly, the store will close soon.”

“Mm.”

The girls managed to find their way to the corner shop and picked out their outfits, taking pictures together as they tried their accessories, a white halo for Kumi and a pair of red devil horns for Kaksi.

“You didn’t want to trade?” Kaksi asked, looking through their pics on her flip phone as they walked home, shopping bags in hand. “We can still swap if you want.”

Kumi shook her head.

“My parents are already being too lenient by letting me go out for the parade tomorrow in the first place, so putting on leather on top of that will probably be pushing it,” she said, with a dramatic sigh.

Kaksi laughed.

“You know, for a moment I was wondering if you’d change being around gang members for so long, but it seems like you’re still a goody two-shoes after all.”

Kumi smiled in response but her smile was a little less bright this time, and Kaksi frowned. She’d almost gotten over the sting of Kazutora essentially breaking things off with her but she had to remember that Kumi’s situation was still fresh in her heart.

An idea suddenly popped into her head, and she grabbed Kumi’s hand suddenly, turning around to face her.

Kumi’s eyes widened as Kaksi’s beamed.

“Hey, we’re gonna be friends forever, right? A pair, you and me, right?’.

Kumi nodded slowly in agreement, not exactly sure where Kaksi was getting at. Of course, she was her best friend.

“So… I think we should make a pact,” she proposed.

“What kind of pact?”

The sun was starting to set, pinker than usual, and with the wind picking up in that late October evening, Kumi had the feeling that whatever Kaksi was about to say next would be terribly poignant. She found herself holding her breath, as Kaksi continued.

“When we’re old maids later on in life, we should just buy a huge house in the woods and live together. We can get dogs and cats and make a garden where we grow our own food and not worry about any mean losers that just fight all the time. We’ll buy lots of books and play music all day and you can do all the cooking because I hate cooking but it’ll be amazing. What do you think?”

Kumi’s smile was genuine this time. She clasped her other hand over Kaksi’s warm ones.

“It sounds amazing.”

Maybe Kaksi was the only person she really needed after all, Kumi thought.

---

Even if Kumi was trying to focus on literally anything else aside from Baji, there was a small part of her that still worried about the tension brewing between the Tokyo Manji gang and Valhalla, and the thought of another brawl landing him or even Mitsuya in the hospital seemed to haunt her. It didn’t help that Mitsuya had told her that there would be ‘Toman business’ on the afternoon of Halloween and so he’d have to pass on going to the parade with her and Kaksi. She had insisted that they could all go, and he’d told her that there was something big, without really giving her additional details.

Big was not good when it came to gangs.

All day Kumi dwelled on it until she felt that she had to say something by the time lunchtime rolled around, starting with a long sigh to feign nonchalance.

“So I know we’re not supposed to discuss they-who-must-not-be-named anymore,” she started, stopping abruptly when Kaksi raised her eyebrow at her, “but I feel like something bad’s gonna happen.”

“Like what?” Kaksi asked, barely looking up from her plate.

Kumi frowned.

“I don’t know, Mitsuya wouldn’t really tell me but supposedly they’re preparing for something today and with all that’s going on it seems like it might be a bigger deal this time,” she continued. At this point, Kaksi’s curiosity must have been piqued because she finally looked at her then propped her face up by her elbow on the table.

A slight embarrassment ran over Kumi when she considered how obvious it was that she was still worried about Baji despite the fact that he’d been awful to her, while her friend seemed to take everything in stride.

While Kaksi seemed to be thinking, Kumi decided instead to content herself with spoonfuls of rice.

“Maybe I am nosy,” she laughed out loud for a moment once a couple minutes passed. She considered the idea of showing up again, in front of Baji who probably only found her annoying by now, and she considered that the idea of being chased away a second time was too much to bear. Maybe if she didn’t annoy him, she could pretend that they hadn’t really broken up, just drifted apart. That would work, wouldn’t it?

“Well I’m curious now,” Kaksi said, rising suddenly.

Kumi remembered this exact scenario from just a couple days ago and immediately regretted saying anything.

“Actually maybe this time we shouldn’t-” she began.

“It’s just information. We don’t have to do anything about it,” Kaksi insisted. Kumi agreed.

“Let’s try to ask someone after school.”

...

The school seemed to empty out before either girl could corner a single person. It was odd really, and when they reunited from their different classes, both grimaced as they realized they had absolutely no intel for each other.

Despite the nagging feeling in the back of her mind, Kumi went home to prepare for the evening parade after separating from Kaksi at her house. Walking the rest of the way, she contemplated further the idea of getting over her feelings completely, reanalyzing nearly all of their interactions over the past couple of years to determine what she had missed. This only made her sadder, and by the time she was nearly at her door, she was holding back sniffles.

She hated the fact that she cried so easily.

Not paying attention to where she was going, she found herself running into another boy her age, surprised when she realized it was Yamagishi of all people, one of Takemitchi’s friends that she’d seen a couple times but not really interacted with.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!”

Yamagishi looked at her in surprise.

“Kumi-chan, what are you doing here?”

She tilted her head, surprised by the question, pointing to her house a few paces away.

“I live here?”

Yamagishi’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he laughed nervously.

“Ah, yes… well, it was nice to run into you,” he said, politely, dashing in the opposite direction.

Kumi thought about the weird encounter and considered shrugging her shoulders and going on her way, but then she stopped in her tracks, and ran back to catch up to him.

“Hey!”

Yamagishi stopped, surprised and looked at her in surprise. Kumi faltered a little, phrasing the question, then blurted out, “you know a lot about gang stuff, right?”

Yamagishi scratched his head sheepishly but was clearly pleased. “Yeah, of course. I can literally tell you anything!”

Kumi nodded. “Have you heard about anything big happening tonight? With Tokyo Manji or…?” She didn’t outright say Valhalla, but it was the more pressing question for her.

Yamagishi furrowed his brow.

“Toman’s going to have a huge fight today, if it hasn’t already started…”

Kumi held her breath.

“Where?”

“There’s an old junkyard. I considered going just to see, just because I know it would be crazy, but my parents wanted me home unless I’d get in trouble. They’re going against Valhalla, everyone in the delinquent community knows about it.”

Her heart thumped, and she immediately went ahead to send a text to Kaksi to meet up with her immediately.

“Please tell me where it is.”

---

By the time the girls made it (with multiple wrong turns) to the junkyard, where there were even more people than the Valhalla hideout those couple days before, the fight was more than half over.

At least in sheer numbers,the crowd had already started to thin from Valhalla’s 300, including Baji, Kazutora, and the tall, lanky and obnoxious-sounding boy the girls would later know to be Hanma, and Toman’s 150, including Mikey, the source of all their problems, Kisaki and the rest of the gang they knew well. There were enough bruises and injuries and unconscious boys to go around, and while Kumi and Kaksi froze in space, their eyes quickly scanned the crowd for those that they cared about the most.

The first thing Kumi saw in the distance upon arrival - what they both saw - was the knife in Baji’s hands.

A knife that was raised to the heavens, loud words that sounded like nonsense to her tumbling out of his mouth, and a bold smile on his face.

What is he-

Before Kumi could even process the situation further, or even take account of the other bodies in the junkyard, Baji plunged that very knife straight into his abdomen.

And her heart stopped.

“Kei!”

Maybe his eyes widened for a moment as he searched for her voice, and he did finally see her running towards him, as he collapsed immediately into Chifuyu’s arms who were closer, stronger and faster.

He hadn’t factored this into his move.

In fact he’d thought about what he was doing but he hadn’t really thought at all, had he? Just doing whatever it took to save Kazutora.

Making his death matter.

Bambi, I…

“Kei!” Kumi screamed again, crying this time as she ran, until she found herself intercepted by Mitsuya who saw her run into the fray in time and held her back.

“Let me go!” She shrieked.

Mitsuya said nothing, but held on to her with all his strength, arms tightening as he turned her away, as her screams mixed with Chifuyu’s.

“Someone call an ambulance! Someone stop the bleeding! Please let me,” she sputtered and choked for a moment, losing the ability to breathe. “Let me help him!”

There was nothing she could do. Mitsuya’s grip was like iron and his hold felt like betrayal, and as she watched Baji, turned away from her while he said his final words, her stomach writhed in despair.

Her voice seemed to die in her throat.

“P-please let me go,” she continued helplessly, knowing that Mitsuya wouldn’t give in even for a second, and once she had lost the strength to scream hysterically any longer and her legs grew unsteady, he allowed her to fall to her knees and double over in sobs.

This was cruel, Mitsuya thought, but he could see that Kazutora and Mikey’s standoff was escalating and she couldn’t be in the middle.

Kaksi covered her mouth as she took in Baji’s corpse in turn and it seemed as though time had gone to a stand still until she heard the sickening crunch of Mikey’s knuckles connecting with Kazutora’s jaw.

“I’ll kill you!”

The words came out of Mikey’s mouth, repeated like a mantra and with them, his punches were heavy and relentless; Kaksi could sense the immediate intent to kill.

She couldn’t pretend she didn’t understand why. Kumi was curled into a ball beside her and within Mitsuya’s reach, still sobbing inconsolably while Chifuyu’s eyes clearly went in and out of focus, staring at his friend’s body. She could see the subtle pain behind Mikey’s voidless eyes.

Mikey was absolutely going to kill him.

Her feet moved on their own, faster than she had ever done before, dodging the arms that attempted to stop her. Kaksi could feel her heart racing and her stomach turning at the sight of her ex-boyfriend’s blood being splashed onto the floor. She couldn’t understand why no one was stopping them.

Baji…

Baji had just injured himself and this fight needed to end. So she didn’t think twice, loudly screaming at them to stop before getting in between Kazutora and Toman’s leader. She faced Mikey while her ex-boyfriend was shielded by her back, even though she was slightly smaller than him and much weaker.

The look in Mikey’s eyes was one she had never seen before. She shivered, realizing in what position she had just put herself in. But Kaksi couldn’t turn back now. The fury in his eyes spoke for him and she was unsure about what would happen to her at that moment. Takemichi stood behind while Chifuyu was still focused on Baji’s cold body in his arms. He watched the scene unfold, holding his breath but thankful that the girl had been quick to act.

“Get out of my way,” Mikey told her in an icy voice.

“Mikey, ple-”

Kaksi’s eyes widened as she felt Mikey’s strong hold on her. She let out a whimper as she felt herself pushed to the side, violently falling onto the ground. Everyone surrounding them watched in shock as Mikey aimed for Kazutora again. Takemichi took a step forward but to his relief, Kaksi was standing up again.

The pain from her fall was still present but she didn’t hesitate to run over to Mikey again, this time wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him back as hard as she could. He hit her once with his elbow and she cried out, unsure about being able to take another hit. Unfortunately, Kaksi only managed to put him off balance slightly despite being taller than Mikey and giving it all her strength.

The second hit she received had her fall back down, her hands as well as her knees covered in blood and dirt. That hurt, her breathing was heavier this time and she took a moment before standing up again. But the sight of Kazutora’s bloodied face and the sound of Mikey’s knuckles meeting bones was too much.

“Stop!” she screamed again, even louder than the first time, throwing her body in between the two boys again.

The sound of Draken’s voice calling out the girl’s name could be heard as his eyes followed Mikey’s fist but it was too late. Takemichi cried out watching her take a direct hit for Kazutora. Kaksi wanted to scream, the blunt force stronger than anything she had ever felt before but the sounds were caught in her throat as she found herself unable to breathe. She stumbled backwards. Mikey, stunned by the sight of her falling from his blow instead of Kazutora, stayed immobile.

What have I done?

Takemichi caught the girl in his arms, preventing her from hitting the ground, clearly unable to stand anymore. Horror took over Kazutora instantly as he watched her limp body, the pain probably too much for her to have withstood. He stepped forward, fury taking over him again at the sight of his unconscious darling.

Mikey didn’t move, eyes glued to her as Takemichi slapped her face gently in an attempt to wake her up. He didn’t mean to hurt her, he was aiming at Kazutora. He would never ever hit Kaksi, he thought as guilt washed over him. He would never hit a girl, and especially not this girl, his friend, or maybe more.

“You fucking asshole!” Kazutora yelled his fist connecting with Mikey’s jaw for the first time after a while.

The pain brought Toman’s leader back to his senses and it was instinctively that he blocked Kazutora’s next move. Takemichi watched once again, anger taking over him this time. They couldn’t be serious. He screamed out of frustration for Kaksi who couldn’t, Kumi who was still held back by Mitsuya and everyone surrounding them.

“What the fuck do you think Baji died for and Kaksi took that punch for?”

Kazutora’s eyes filled with tears as he looked over to his best friend’s corpse and his ex-girlfriend’s unconscious form. Mikey was about to argue but Takemichi cut him off, getting impatient now.

“He died for Toman! He died for you two, god damn it!”

Takemichi’s tears fell onto Kaksi as he gently moved her body, taking off his jacket hurriedly to put it under her head before walking over to the two boys fighting. But as the piece of clothing was folded, the charm Takemichi had kept with him fell, catching Mikey’s attention.

“Kazutora didn’t kill him!” he continued. “He killed himself because he didn’t want Kazutora to feel responsible! Because he wanted you to forgive Kazutora!”

Takemichi stopped for a moment, the sobs racking his body making it hard for him to speak.

“Everything Baji did,” he said. “He did it because he loved you guys! Why can’t you understand this?”

Kazutora found himself unable to move, too many conflicting emotions taking over him while Mikey kneeled, picking up the charm that was sent flying. He examined it carefully before asking Takemichi where he had found it. Then Mikey’s eyes widened in shock as the founding members of Toman realized who it belonged to and what it represented. He couldn’t help the tears blurring his vision at the realisation of what they had just lost and at what cost exactly. For a moment Mikey reminisced, brought back to Toman’s founding day.

“I didn’t create Toman,” he explained. “Baji did.”

Kumi, who had thought she didn’t have any more tears to cry, felt a new wave wash over her as her shattered heart ached harder. The emptiness she felt, piercing through everyone who had known Baji.

If one of us gets hurt, we’ll all protect them. I want a gang that’s all for one, and one for all.

They could all picture Baji saying those words, whether they had been there or not to witness it two years ago and at that moment everyone found that they couldn’t muffle the sounds of their pain anymore.

There was a pause that hung heavy, impregnated with tears, but where they all remained unmoving, as they considered everything that had been said.

Kumi stirred finally, wiping her tears, and turned to look at Mitsuya. He eyed her carefully, his own eyes no longer dry, and in a voice that sounded too pained to be speaking, she begged for a chance to move.

“It’s safe now, right? I’m not interfering anymore.”

Without waiting for an answer, she rose and walked over slowly to where Chifuyu still held her first crush, love, whatever she would call it. Chifuyu didn’t look up as she knelt down across from him and placed her head against Baji’s chest, her heart sinking as she couldn’t hear a heartbeat. Throat drying up, she might have deluded herself into imagining something, anything where there should be a sound, so instead she lifted her head quickly, and gently slapped him on the face.

“Wake up,” she whispered. She tapped his face again with her open palm, again trying to ignore how unnaturally cold his cheek was on contact.

She took a deep breath again, then thumped his chest again, a little harder this time. She knew very well that this was futile, and if anything she was upsetting Chifuyu even more, who had started to shake, but she was going to do this. She had to do this.

“Wake up, the fight is over and you’ll be fine. Someone called an ambulance and you need to get checked, but it’ll be okay.” She paused, and bit her lower lip.

She reached over to untie his ponytail, letting the hair tie sit on her wrist. As luck would have it, this one she recognized; he had borrowed it from her. She swallowed hard, as she ran a hand through his hair.

“Kumi, he’s-” Chifuyu started then stopped once she cut him off sharply.

“I know.”

Despite this, she still shook him.

“I forgive you for being mean, okay? We still have dates and movies to go to,” she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, as though that was the reason why he wasn’t responding to her, not the fact that he was no longer breathing.

“I’ll learn how to make that yakisoba you like. Your mom promised to teach me before, remember? It won’t be as good but you have to promise to eat everything.”

“Kumi,” Chifuyu repeatedly her name softly, and she swallowed a sob but kept talking to the dead boy before her.

“I never gave you those chocolates I owe you, remember? You can’t die before I do that.”

As she said this, the tears she’d thought had run out just earlier seemed to replenish and she buried her face into his jacket and finally let herself weep fully, her arms around him.

“You’re so fucking mean, Baji Keisuke.”

[stillunpainted]

Postmortem

cw for implied suicide.  1.8k fic under the cut baby.  Pretty much Neku dealing with the aftermath of the game and then having a conversation with Joshua.

    Neku couldn’t take sudden noises anymore.  It’d always been somewhat of a bother, and his music had helped him block out the little surprises that’d make him jump, the startle like a lightning bolt, but now it was agonizing.  It was as if at any time, he could be seized by the hand of death, freezing his blood like a blizzard.  Though he’d made a promise to himself to wear his headphones less, especially in public, it wasn’t easy.

    Shibuya was vibrant and busy, but it was also overwhelming.  There were times where after simply going to Mr. H’s cafe with Shiki or Beat and Rhyme would result in him having to go lay in bed for hours afterward, staring at the ceiling until he was able to think again.  His parents were worried.  They’d noticed that he was going out more, and generally seemed to be happier than before, but the exhaustion, the anxiety, those weren’t things he could hide.  He enjoyed spending time with his friends, but he wasn’t used to them.  He felt out of place, worried that he’d somehow mess up and they wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.

    He’d picked up an old acoustic guitar, and spent about thirty minutes trying to figure out how to tune it.  That was all he could bring himself to do for the day.  He checked his messages, and it was much of the same.  Shiki had sent an update on her most recent project with Eri, and was still trying to convince him to try it on.  He wasn’t adamantly against the idea, he just wasn’t sure if it was his thing.  He’d had to expand his fashion sense during the Game, and he wasn’t sure where to go with that now.  Was it something he wanted to pursue on his own, or did he want to be influenced by the people around him?

    Though Neku had avoided Udagawa like the plague, he still could see CAT’s art when he closed his eyes, peering over him as he stared up at the painted walls.  He wanted to see it again, as his mind could only replicate everything with a certain degree of accuracy, but the thought of going back made him feel sick, sick enough to rush to the bathroom and wait for it all to come up, but nothing was there.

    The Composer often lingered in his mind, interrupting his normal thought processes.  In this moment Neku was staring at the ceiling again, tapping his fingers to the beat of a song, when he suddenly remembered Joshua off-handedly mentioning that he liked it.  Neku took his headphones off.  He still hadn’t forgiven Joshua yet.  There was so much pain, so intense that even though those bullets left no scars now, he could still feel them.  He sat up, deciding that today he would face it.  He wasn’t sure why, but felt if he didn’t go to Udagawa now, these thoughts would never stop, haunting him like old ghosts over and over.

    On his way through Shibuya, he kept his headphones on around his neck, ready to put them on if necessary.  He walked past stores he’d come to know well, absentmindedly trying to spot the faces of the shopkeepers he’d spoken with over and over.  There were so many people.  Even though he couldn’t hear their thoughts anymore, it floored him how they all were living their own lives, their own narratives that he would never be privy to.  Their secret gardens.

    It was a conversation he thought back to at times.  He’d wondered if not being able to cross into someone’s garden was even a bad thing.  Was trying to understand someone enough, even if it wasn’t actually possible?  He felt he knew Shiki and Beat pretty well, and Rhyme and Eri to an extent.  His memories of Joshua though… Joshua at times felt completely alien yet familiar, almost like a trick mirror.

    Neku arrived at Udagawa, and saw that the art had changed significantly in his absence.  CAT’s work was still there, some of it new itself, but there were other artists who had added to the wall.  Nothing unusual, but the change made Neku’s chest feel heavy.  He was used to seeing everything shift gradually, not only see the end result.

    It was still beautiful, he decided, just different.  Still the same wall, marked by the same kinds of people.  He wondered if one day he would get some spray paint himself, though he had no idea what he could create.  It wasn’t a part of himself that he’d explored in a long time, not since… 

    Even now, he felt the empty space within his heart.  He still had the last message his friend had sent him on his phone. “See you there,” it’d read.  An interaction that had never been complete, a day that never happened.

    “Well, you’ve brought yourself back here, haven’t you?” A recognizably smug voice rose above the background noise of everyone else passing through.

    “Look at what the cat dragged outta the sewers,” Neku retorted dryly.  Joshua crossed his arms, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.  Neku was tense, but this relaxed him somewhat.  He figured Joshua hadn’t merely returned after what, months, simply to antagonize him.  Though he didn’t rule it out of the realm of possibility, “what brings you out here, anyway?” Joshua put a hand on his chin.

    “I was intrigued as to why you returned here.  It seems like a morbid place to go by yourself.  I thought that maybe you’d need supervision,” Joshua said.  Neku pulled at his hair, trying not to visibly give Joshua the satisfaction of annoying him.  Though he supposed that Joshua could read his mind, which agitated him further.

    “I don’t need- whatever, it’s just that I kept thinking about everything that happened.  I dunno if closure is exactly what I’m looking for, but it’s something like that, I think,” Neku shuffled his feet.  He was never especially good at reading people, but Joshua was always a special kind of enigma.

    “There’s nothing I can add to that.  You already know why I did what I did,” Joshua said, “neither of us can take that back.”

    “You can’t take that back.  All I did was survive,” Neku said.  He didn’t expect an apology, nor was he surprised by Joshua’s nonchalant attitude towards it all, but it still stung a little.

    “Oh come on Neku, we’ve both made mistakes,” Joshua said, wrapping a hand around his neck.  A flash of guilt washed over Neku, but he let it pass.  He’d talked about it a lot with Shiki after the game, though it was still something he’d never fully forgive himself over.  He’d found that he had a pattern of hurting people.  He’d finally stopped at his duel with Joshua, but still.  He wondered if that old self was buried within, ready to rise at any time.  I killed him- “Neku?  Locked up in that head of yours again?”

    “What would’ve happened if I’d shot you?” Joshua didn’t even flinch at the question.  But he wavered a little.

    “I would’ve been erased.  I would’ve lost that game, yknow.  That’s how the rules are,” he says.

    “I know, but-”

    “The UG would’ve been destroyed, but I can’t say I’d know what would happen after that,” Joshua says, “I can’t give you a real answer, even if I wanted to please you that way.”

    “So even you don’t know,” Neku said.

    “Yes Neku, you’re a fantastic listener,” Joshua replied.  His normal grin is back, though something about it seems off.

    “So why would you do that?  If you’d actually gone through with destroying Shibuya or whatever, it wouldn’t have mattered at all if I’d pulled the trigger or not.  Not much of a crossroad, really,” Neku put his hands on his headphones, contemplating putting them on.

    “It was all a game.  My bet with Megumi.  You were my proxy,” Joshua said, crossing his arms again.

    “What were you even trying to prove with me?  That I’m terrible and representative of Shibuya’s evils, or something?  I was just trying to live and help Beat get Rhyme back at that point.”

    “That’s spot on.”

    “Then did your proof involve me shooting you at the end?”

    “Yes.”

    “Then your plan would’ve killed you no matter what,” Neku said.

    “What do you mean?”

    “No UG means no Composer, right?”

    “Correct indeed.”

    “So you were planning on dying.” A silence settled over the two of them.

    “Well, I didn’t,” Joshua says.  Neku thought of how he initially saw the game as a dream that he dreaded the end of.  There was nothing he had to worry about other than missions, nobody to talk to but Shiki, nobody to nag him.  It was the closest he’d ever been to whatever his own ‘world view’ had been.

    “I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” Neku paused, wondering if it was even worth saying.  Joshua had killed him twice over, but still, “I’m glad you didn’t die.” Joshua narrowed his eyes.  The Composer wasn’t alive per se, but even he knew that wasn’t exactly what Neku had meant.

    “And that’s that,” Joshua said, turning away.

    “Don’t think I’m going to take that as an excuse.  You didn’t have to turn it into some big game with my life,” Neku said.

    “Well aren’t I alive because I did, based on your logic?” At this point, Neku wanted to tear out his hair.  Joshua was the same as always, so he didn’t know why he was expecting anything different.  But surely something had changed within the Composer, as he had preserved Shibuya and brought everyone back to life.

    “Dammit, do you even realize what all of that was like?  You killed me twice, and- and…” Neku trails off, shuddering.  Joshua’s hands ball up into fists and he stares at the ground for a moment, frowning.  He almost seems small, completely losing the aura of being something beyond the fifteen year old standing in the streets of Udagawa, the mural hanging over his head.  He straightens his posture and he’s the Composer again.

    “I do realize.  I’m not incapable of understanding pain,” Joshua says, “hmmm.  Maybe that worsens my case.” He turns to face Neku once again, who wants to back away, but doesn’t.

    “I guess it’s hard to keep going.  I’m not on my own anymore, at least.  Shibuya’s felt bigger than it ever has for me, and that’s exciting on one hand, but overwhelming.  There’s so many places I could go, but I also feel like something terrible is always on the horizon again,” Neku says.  He doesn’t know why he’s telling this to Joshua of all people.

    “Could I be the cause of that terrible something?  Is that what you fear?”

    “No.  I still don’t… I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive you really, but I trust that you won’t use me again.  I’d be lying if I said being around you doesn’t make me nervous, but I still trust you.  We were partners, right?” Neku says.  Joshua tilts his head.

    “Right, we were.”

[peppersonironi]

Batfam/Avengers Crossover Chapter One: Arrival

Yo, this has been on Ao3 for a while and people seem to really love it, So I thought I’d post it here! Chapter below the cut.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Gen Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd, Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle's Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas, Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason's language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What's canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary:

The Avengers find themselves in an alternate universe where none of them exist. Instead, there is a different group of heroes: The Justice League. They decide to work together to get the Avengers home. But not not everything is instantaneous, so the Avengers need a place to stay. The only place available is Wayne Manor.

Que Batfamily shenanigans!

Multi-chapter fanfic, with some one shots that go along with the plot thrown in.

Notes:

This is my first time writing anything with the Avengers - especially a deaf!clint - and the Batfam, so I apologize if anything is doc. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

This is mainly comic DCU with Movie Avengers (Set after the first avengers movie, plus Spiderman, cause I can ;-)

Crack! Bang! There was a flash of blindingly bright light, followed by a huge explosion.

"Wha- where are we?"

Tony Stark looked over to Peter who had been the first to speak. Crap, the kid had come here too. But wherever here was, he did not know.

Tony, Steve, Hulk, Thor, Clint, Peter, and Natasha stood in a loose clump at the center of a smoking crater. The sky was cloudy  and dark, and they appeared to be at least five miles outside of a big city, judging from the buildings in the distance. There was also a highway filled with streaming cars a couple of miles to Tony’s right.

“This isn’t right,” He muttered, opening his faceplate. Where were the sunny tropical trees that housed the compound of Anagnorisis - weird name, he knew - who was some D-list villain who thought some slightly advanced tech made them a world-conqueror. But Tony was beginning to think that those guns were a bit stranger and more advanced than he had previously believed.

“Tell me about it,” replied Steve. “Any idea where we are? Was it some sort of teleportation gun that was shot at us? This looks nothing like the Amazon.”

Before anyone could speak, Tony received a notification. Multiple incoming objects were approaching, fast . With the exception of the second fastest, they seemed to be airborne. “Multiple incomings, perhaps hostile. Most are flying. And they aren’t missiles. I think people ? But -”

“Who are you?”

Suddenly the first object arrived, and Stark was right. It was a black haired man in a blue skin tight suit with a red “S” on it and a flowing red cape. It would look ridiculous if he wasn’t glaring daggers at the group while flying .

He was joined almost immediately by another man, this time wearing an all red bodysuit with a lightning bolt on the chest and cowl. He was not flying though. He stopped in front of them swinging his arms as lightning dissipated. He had run there.

Next came a woman dressed in the colors of the american flag, with golden cuffs, tiara, and lasso by her side. She came with a man in a green, white, and black skin tight suit with some sort of symbol - perhaps a lantern? - on his chest. He also wore a green ring and black domino mask with white lenses on his face. They were both joined by another, a split second later. This was by far the strangest arrival. He was completely bald, with green skin and red eyes. He wore navy blue pants and cape, with only a red “X” over his chest. All three were floating.

“Who are you?” The blue and red man repeated.

Tony scoffed. Was this guy serious? “We’re the Avengers, obviously.”

The group shared a look. “Is that some new kind of villain group? I swear to all that is good and holy if I need to deal with another group who think they can rule the world, I. Will. Quit.” This time the man who spoke was the runner.

Steve replied, confusion clear on his face. “We’re not villains! We’re the Avengers; Earth’s mightiest heroes!”

Instead of coming to their senses, the strangely dressed newcomers laughed .

“You do realize you are speaking to members of the Justice League?” The woman spoke, her lips pursed.

“The who now?”

“Be quiet Kid, we don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Tony spoke to Peter. He was getting more worried by the second. Something was seriously wrong.

“Dealing with?” The green dressed man frowned, clearly suspicious of the Avengers. He started to fidget with his ring. “Well, since you don’t seem to know, let me enlighten you.” He gestured to each of his companions. “Superman, son of Krypton. Wonder Woman, Amazonian Princess. The Flash, fastest man alive. Martian Manhunter, well, a martian. And Me, Green Lantern. Member of the Green Lantern Core.”

Well, that explained everything. Not.

“We do not know you, strangers.” Thor spoke this time. “Perhaps you leave us be, our green friend over here gets frustrated easily.” He pointed to Hulk, who was breathing heavily.

The green man - martian, apparently - spoke for the first time. “Not until you tell us who you are and why you are in a smoking crater near His city.”

“His?” Clint clearly did not like the way the martian spoke of this character. To be honest, Stark didn’t either.

This got the most surprised reactions from the five. They looked at each other, and Tony could have sworn there was a hint of fear in their faces.

“Oh, He is so not going to like that.” Green Lantern said.

“Combined with the fact that we ditched Him.” The Flash cringed. Then looked worried again. “Yo, green grape, you okay.

The Hulk’s breathing was growing heavier, his face contorted into that of utter rage.

“Uh-oh,” Steve said.

“I . . . Not . . . GRAPE!” Hulk roared as he charged the The Flash who nimbly dodged. Superman went down to intercede, and just got punched by the Hulk. Though it did not seem to physically bother him, he was clearly angry.

Tony shut his face plate and moved forward, intending to stop the fight, but he only got attacked by the martian. Peter jumped forward to help, and soon everyone was fighting.

Thor was pitted against the Wonder Woman, and they seemed evenly matched.  Black Widow was against The flash, and despite his incredible speed she seemed to be almost winning. Both Hawkeye and Captain America were battling Green Lantern.

No one seemed to have the upper hand, which worried Tony. These people were tough. If they couldn’t beat them . . . he didn’t know what would happen.

Peter didn’t seem to share his worry though. He instead seemed to be having fun. Tony could tell the kid was smiling beneath his mask, and his body language screamed hyper and happy. He seemed to get that way whenever they fought together, and a small part of Tony was filled with a sense of parental pride.

The fight seemed endless, no one gaining traction. Until something incredible happened. Thor threw Mjolnir directly at his opponent, and instead of being knocked down like everyone else, she caught the hammer. Every Avenger - even the Hulk - immediately froze, catching the attention of the newcomers.

“This is a very well crafted weapon, though a bit clunky,” Wonder Woman said as she tossed the hammer from one hand to the other. She paused, seeing their reactions.

“You are worthy.” Thor spoke with disbelief and a tint of resignation in his voice.

“Pardon?” Superman spoke, his frown apparent.

“Only those worthy can lift Mjolnir - my hammer. She clearly can, which means that you are trustworthy.”

*****

Five minutes of somewhat confused conversation later, they had reached an uneasy truce. Neither spoke much at first, but they soon began to compare notes. Apparently They both believed themselves to be the protectors of Earth, which brought on a bout of argument before Peter stepped in.

“Woah hold on, calm down. Something is clearly up, so there’s no need to argue!”

Wonder Woman looked contemplative. “How old are you boy, you seem young.”

Peter bristled. “I’m 15, and I’ve been a superhero for a while now, so I’m not inexperienced!”

Green Lantern laughed. “That’s not what she met, kid. We aren’t going to tell you how old you need to be to fight crime. The amount of we work with, and some even younger than you . . .” He shook his head and laughed. Then he realised how he had sounded. “I mean, we don’t force them, it's up to each individual to make that choice for themselves. Well, with the mentor’s approval of course.”

Natasha furrowed her brows. “How young are some of these kids?” Tony knew she had a thing against child soldiers, so he wasn’t surprised she was disapproving.

Green Lantern looks to the Flash. “How old is Robin at this point? 9?”

Flash laughed. “Naw, that little devil is 11. He was very adamant on that fact when he threatened me with his katana.” He shook his head.

Green Lantern laughed. “Yeah, most of the others are teenagers. Robin is the youngest, and I’d say most deadly, but Red Hood . . .”

“The Dark Knight really does have a problem,” Flash said.

His last comment made Green Lantern freeze. They both looked at each other then turned to Peter.

“Kid, stay away from The Dark Knight.” Green Lantern says.

“Yeah, if He sees you, there’s no way you’ll ever leave.”

“He’s the most dangerous man on earth,” Green Lantern adds.

“Guys, stop. You’re scaring him.” Superman looks disappointedly at the two heroes who Tony pegged as the trouble makers of the group. This idea was further cemented in Tony when they started laughing. Despite this, he decided to keep Peter as far away from this supposed Dark Knight as possible.

“Speak of the devil, he’s on his way.” Superman says this with a smile, then he cringes. “And we’re going to get an earful alright. Ten minutes ahead of him is a big deal apparently.”

In a moment. Tony got an alert that something was approaching. Fast. Soon he saw a large black military type armoured car fly down the highway from the city and off the road. It zoomed toward them.

It was a sight indeed to see the menacing black car swerve and expertly stop a few yards from the group. The top opened and a dark form shot straight up before landing in a kneeling position in front of them. The figure rose, and Tony got the first good look at him. He was a tall man with a broad chest and shoulders, dresses in complete black. There was a bat-like symbol on his chest, also in black. He wore a cape that flowed around menacingly. His face was covered by a cowl with pointed ears, like that of an owl, or perhaps a bat. The only part of his costume that was not black was the dark gold utility belt at his waist. Altogether, he was utterly frightening.

Tony took a step forward, effectively blocking Peter, who scoffed.

“Batman,” Superman said, a smile on his face.

Batman fixed the most impressive and terrifying glare upon the man that Stark had ever seen. “You broke protocol by going ahead of me. You are in my territory Superman. And you know that I cannot fly or run at the speed of sound.” He fixed his glare on the rest of his group who all reacted with either flinches or sheepish shrugs.

Batman grunted before looking at the Avengers. He sized each of them up, staying longest on Stark. Tony felt as if his entire being was being stripped away under the scrutiny.

“Alternate Dimension jumpers, not by choice I’m assuming.”

He spoke so simply that it took a minute for Tony to react. Even then, the man was already on his way back to his car.

“We’re near Gotham, let’s regroup at the Cave.”

Tony didn’t know what this Cave was, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Are you the Dark Knight?” He asked, before he lost his nerve.

The man looked immediately at the Flash and Green Lantern, who looked both scared and amused. Their sheepish smirks and chuckles dissipated when Batman looked away and back to Tony.

“The Dark Knight, The World’s Greatest Detective, The Caped Crusader, The Batman. All are titles I have earned. See you at the cave.”

And with that he hopped in his car and sped off back toward the gloomy city beyond.