#she even gives Phantom a new name but it’s almost certainly an accident

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

DPxDC media story prompt

Okay first off, this sort of thing has been done before, but here’s a different version involving Jazz Fenton.

Popular in DPxDC fanfic is that the GIW have a media blackouts—or whiteouts, there’s kind of a difference, where whiteouts work more like… there is a file, but you can’t edit it or it may be locked out for certain users, or an edited version of events where things are ‘whited out’ like with correction paste, among other definitions.

Point is!

The GIW have a media restriction, and among these is social media, probably with certain words or phrases pinging to location restrict the post. There was probably a phase for a while where the A-Listers tried to get around it, but ultimately failed, and since they could only get information IN rather than information OUT, and possibly still a limited amount of outside information in the first place, social media didn’t take off as much in Amity Park than in other places in the world. There’s still a small local presence, but at this point it’s almost like a city wide chat room than actual social media.

Enter in, Jazz Fenton. She’s chronically behind on trends, so by the time she decides to get on social media, the GIW aren’t being as militant on it. And she has that habit of calling the ghosts by code names instead of their actual names, such as Crate Creep instead of The Box Ghost, or Ghost X instead of Skulker. By pure coincidence of her personal language use and Tucker messing with all of Team Phantom’s phone locaters for easier excuse giving, Jazz manages to dodge all the word censors.

She accidentally creates a whole online story community convinced it’s some kind of altered reality game or role playing game, what have you. Meanwhile, Jazz is letting off steam by ranting online with, of course, made up names of all the people involved. She doesn’t even notice the numbers, and that’s assuming the GIW didn’t just—region lock the ability to see them for whatever reason. The few Amity Parkers on social medias see Jazz, maybe look at a complaint post or two, then move on because this isn’t even an unusual video inside Amity Park’s social media sphere.

Heck, PHANTOM has a social media presence and he’s done several rant videos too! One particularly famous one is him complaining about keeping his boots and gloves white while being chased and one of the GIW agents actually stops and gives him advice before shooting at him again.

Those outside Amity Park, of course, only see Jazz’s videos. And she has no idea that she has an entire online presence and mild amounts of online fame. And again, almost everyone thinks the whole thing is just a fun little game, if oddly detailed.

Until, that is, a certain young man by the name of Bernard comes in. One of the few who are totally convinced this is real, he tries to also convince his boyfriend—Timothy Drake-Wayne. Who, in turn, finds it incredibly suspicious that it’s this hard to get news and posts from one random town in the Midwest.

[flipomatic]

Bumpy Ride

Summary: When Haru offered to drive the RV, Makoto’s mind immediately flashed to the past. In that moment she relived the day Haru drove her back to her dorm, every engine rev and jolting turn. 

She wasn’t prepared to put the RV, or her friends, through that tumultuous experience.

Word Count: 2000

Author Note: This is based on a gag in Persona 5 Strikers. I couldn’t help myself. The dialogue is not the same as the game because I cannot remember exactly what was said. Spoilers are minimal, less than the trailers for the game.

________________________________________________________

The open road stretched ahead of Makoto, farther than the eye could see. The Phantom Thieves had been on the road for only a short while, having just passed through the outskirts of Tokyo. For the next thousand kilometers they would follow the highway, only stopping to take breaks and search for jails.

Behind her, Makoto could hear the others talking. They discussed the jail they already cleared and what they thought the next one could be. Opinions varied greatly on that matter.

Listening to their voices, letting them wash over her as she drove, was comforting. It helped Makoto to stay focused, reminded her what was at risk if she messed up.

Of course, she wouldn’t. She was nothing if not diligent; there would be no accidents with her behind the wheel. If she could navigate Mementos without hitting the randomly spawning shadows, she could certainly drive them across Japan without issue.

Before, when they used to traverse Mementos, she’d been the only Phantom Thief with a driving license. Now though, there was one other.

The member in question spoke up as the road flashed by, speaking directly to Makoto.

“Are you tired Mako-chan? I can take over.”  Haru must’ve turned in her seat, since her voice was clear in Makoto’s ear.

The question, which should’ve been a welcome offer, sent a cold shiver down Makoto’s spine.

It’s said that one’s life would flash before their eyes when they’re in danger. Makoto wasn’t sure if this situation qualified, but still she could see it clearly.

She remembered the last time Haru offered to drive. In an instant, she relived the harrowing experience.

It was just one month ago.

Despite it being a Friday night, Makoto was already settled in at home. She had an assignment due at the end of next week, which was already about half done. If she focused, she could make good progress on it tonight.

Makoto was in the middle of typing a sentence when her phone beeped, signifying an incoming text message. She was surprised by the noise; she hadn’t expected to be contacted tonight. Did her sister need something?

Withdrawing her phone only took a moment, and Makoto was quickly able to verify that, no, it was not her sister trying to reach her. Instead, Haru’s name had appeared on the screen.

Makoto clicked to open the message, setting her schoolwork aside for the moment. For the last few months she had texted with Haru a couple times a week, even when she was busy. It was nice to keep in touch, even as their studies had them headed down different paths.

The text asked if Makoto wanted to meet up this weekend. Haru had some time free and wanted to catch up.

Makoto couldn’t say no to that, even if she wanted to. She texted back that that she would love to, and the conversation flowed from there. By the end of the evening, the two agreed to meet at a café between their schools.

There was a subway station not too far from there, so Makoto wouldn’t have any trouble with timely transit.

Haru ended the conversation by saying she had big news, but Makoto would have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Makoto wondered what it could be, but she knew better than to pry. She could wait, no matter how curious she was.

The next day, Makoto made sure to leave plenty of time for the journey. She was always punctual and now would be no different.

She rode the subway, which was running on time today, and soon made it to the café. When Makoto checked the time, she was a few minutes early. That was fine, even expected.

Makoto snagged a small table for two, where she could keep an eye on the door.

She didn’t have to wait long before Haru arrived. The bell over the door tinkled with her entrance, though Makoto didn’t need to hear it to know.

When Haru entered a room, she seemed to bring sunlight with her. She was wearing a new outfit, a cute pink dress and white hat, that Makoto hadn’t seen before. Her brown eyes barely flickered across the café before landing on Makoto, a wide smile spreading across her face.

Makoto stood to greet her, “Haru, it’s good to see you.”

When Haru reached Makoto, she opened her arms for a hug. “I’ve missed you, Mako-chan.” Makoto accepted the embrace, which was something Haru had taken to doing when they didn’t see each other for a while.

Haru gave tight hugs, though she didn’t linger long.

Haru sat down at the table after pulling away, taking her hat to place it in her lap. “I love your jacket, it’s very stylish.”

She must’ve been referring to Makoto’s new clothes, which she had started wearing as the weather warmed. Her cheeks warmed at the complement. “Thank you.” She replied as she sat back down, before complementing Haru’s dress in return.

The two girls then ordered coffee, a different type for each of them, and started the process of catching up.

Haru talked about her studies, how she’d been learning about different soil compositions and what they could be used for. She’d been growing a few different plants at her apartment, much to the annoyance of her landlord. The results had been good though, with a distinct improvement in quality.

Makoto shared as well, telling Haru about her classes so far. She was taking mostly general requirement classes, so she could focus on criminal justice later on. The classes had been harder than high school, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Haru had giggled at that, and said “That’s so you, Mako-chan.”

It felt like a compliment, one that shouldn’t have been embarrassing. Regardless, after a moment’s pause, Makoto shifted the conversation.

“What was your big news?” Makoto was still curious about that, since Haru hadn’t mentioned it yet.

Haru’s expression lit up and she sat a little straighter in her seat. “That’s right, I was so excited to tell you that I almost forgot.” She put her coffee cup down on the table. “Last week, I got my driver’s license!”

“That’s great, congratulations!” Makoto replied enthusiastically. She knew Haru had been working towards the license, since it would be useful for business travel.

“I’ve been practicing a lot.” Haru said with a firm nod. She continued speaking, recounting some events from her driving training class. As she listened, Makoto recalled her own driving training experiences. They had been over a year ago, but it sounded like the program hadn’t changed much.

As Makoto reached the end of her coffee, she checked the time on her phone. More time than expected had passed; she’d been too engrossed in the conversation to notice.

“Regretfully, I have to head home.” Makoto said when there was a break in conversation, rising from her seat.

Haru stood as well, a small unwelcome frown gracing her usually cheery face. Her eyes were down, looking at her cup on the table. “I should as well.” She said, hands fidgeting slightly with her hat. “Would you like a ride home?”

“A ride?” Makoto wasn’t sure what Haru was offering. She’d been planning to get home the same way she came, by taking the subway.

Now Haru’s eyes came up to meet hers, with an almost shy look. “I drove here, so if you’d like I can drive you home.”

So, not only did Haru get her license, she also had a car. There was a problem with her driving Makoto home though. “It’s out of the way, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” She protested, despite knowing it was a weak one.

This seemed to give Haru more confidence, as her lips turned up into a smile. “It’s the opposite. I’d be happy to.” She insisted.

Who was Makoto to refuse? “Very well, in that case I accept.”

Now Haru was beaming, drawing the eyes of other patrons as she radiated warmth and energy. “Wonderful! I’ll lead the way.”

She turned to exit the café, with Makoto following behind her. They turned right out of the door and walked down the street.

“Where did you park?” Makoto asked, looking around for a parking lot. It was difficult to park a car in the city, which was a big part of why she didn’t have one.

Haru was half a step ahead of her, certain in direction she chose. “It’s not far.”

Within a couple minutes, they reached the parking garage. It was a multi-story one, as was common to save space. Makoto followed Haru inside, and then up the stairs to the third floor.

When they reached the center of the floor, Haru stopped at a car. Honestly, when she saw this one in the distance Makoto should’ve guessed that it belonged to Haru.

It was a Lexus, which wasn’t obvious by itself. No, this car was also bright hot pink. Haru grinned from ear to ear as she unlocked it, before gesturing at it with a flourish.

“It’s easy to find.” Was the only compliment Makoto was able to muster before being ushered into the passenger’s seat. She closed the door and buckled her seatbelt as Haru climbed into the driver’s seat.

After buckling up, Haru again looked nervous. She had her hands on the wheel, and was looking down at them with a stern expression.

It only lasted for a moment, and she snapped out of it before Makoto could ask what was wrong.

“Ready to go!” Haru exclaimed, turning the key in the engine to start the car. She then backed out of the space and started driving down the ramps to leave the parking garage.

Makoto thought she handled the tight space pretty well, for a new driver. She wasn’t close to any of the walls and was able to exit the garage without any close calls.

Makoto was about to compliment her skills, before they hit the streets. That was when things changed.

As soon as Haru turned out onto the street, she hit the gas far harder than needed. The car accelerated quickly, shooting off down the road.

Makoto clutched the door to maintain her balance, but couldn’t stop her stomach from churning.

She glanced over at Haru, who had a distinct smile on her face as she drove. She looked so happy, Makoto reconsidered complaining about the speed.

Then they skidded around a corner, the tires screeching from the friction. Makoto wondered if her face was turning green.

The rest of the drive was like that, with minimal conversation, high speed turns, and the smell of burnt tires.

When Haru stopped in front of Makoto’s apartment complex, she was still smiling.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.” She said, as Makoto was trying to exit the car onto shaking limbs.

The very thought of driving with Haru again almost finished the job of emptying Makoto’s stomach. She was still leaning on the car door once she stood, so she turned back to speak to Haru.

“I think you need more practice first.” Makoto was able to speak without collapsing. As she talked, she noticed the way Haru’s face fell slightly, a small but significant change. “Once you do, I’ll be counting on you.” She added, unable to accept causing Haru harm.

Haru perked right back up. “Of course!”

After Makoto closed the door, she staggered up unto the sidewalk. Haru waved from inside the car, before speeding away down the street.

She would need a lot more practice before Makoto got into a car with her again.

All of those events flashed before Makoto’s eyes as she drove the RV, the images transposing themselves above the road ahead. It had only been a month since then, and while Haru had gotten some practice in it surely would not be enough.

Makoto wasn’t prepared to subject their friends to Haru’s speed demon ways.

“I’m alright.” Makoto replied without turning her head. “You’ve only just received your license, so it’s best if I drive.”

“Alright, but if you need a break let me know!” Haru insisted, Makoto could imagine the expression on her face, the small pout on her lips.

Makoto had a hard time saying no to her.

“I will.”

[bunnirs]

Scarlet Crossroads:

Chapter 2: Breaking The Ice

Previous/Next

Scarlet Crossroads Masterlist

It felt like hours before most of the exam contestants arrived. Of course, you happened to be exceptionally early, being only examinee 113.

You wish you could’ve said waiting was boring, but a few of the other examinee’s made it extremely difficult to settle down.

There was a wide variety of other characters, their personalities most likely to clash further into the exam, dragging you into the crossfire.

One man stood out to you. He was short, rather full looking, and had an ugly ass beard. Maybe he was a child… seeing as he certainly acted like one. This child of a man was Examinee #16, Tonpa the Rookie Crusher.

It was obvious to you that he was bad news. I mean, he reeked of mold and broccoli. (Well, you thought it was broccoli, but you could’ve been wrong on that. You were hoping, no praying, that it wasn’t the case.

He shifted uncomfortably underneath your stare, somehow growing nervous as he tried to speak. It seemed your aura was suffocating him, how typical.

Anyone who isn't strong enough to withstand it seemed to have that reaction. This just proved he was up to no good.

Your Nen Ability was something close to a Trump Card of sorts. No one would know it existed until it was too late. This poor man had already succumbed to it though, seeing as he was choking on his words.

With a quick inhale, your aura dispersed, leaving the short man to choke on the air that shot into his throat.

“You run a mile or something? Asthma?” You said curiously, a sly smirk seemed to pick at your lips, a laugh growing in your throat.

“No, no! I’m just thirsty! About that, what about a drink? You must be thirsty from your way here? What about we become pals? My name's Tonpa! How about you girly?”

Ew, okay gross. Did this man just call you.. girly? Yeah no, he’s not worthy enough to hold your drink, much less give you one.

With that conclusion, you gave him a forced smile, your eyes narrowing as you stared him down. “That’s really nice of you to offer, but I don’t take things from strangers.”

“Oh huh, really? That’s too bad!” He thought aloud, his expression faltering as he paid close attention to your expression. With each second your eyes got darker, the sides of your mouth twitching as you grew aggravated. Damn, something was up with you. “Your mother must be proud! The whole ‘Stranger Danger’ lesson worked huh?”

“Ah.” You paused, your smile dropping. Looks like the muscles in your face were sore now. Just great. “I didn’t have a mother.” You spoke calmly as you shifted your weight to the other leg, looking down at your fingernails.

With that realization, his eyes almost poked out of his head. He began to spew apologies, falling to the ground in a bow. It was painfully obvious that it was a forced reaction, but you took pleasure in watching him kneel. Okay maybe that’s coming off as too strong? Yeah, maybe it was just funny to you.

With that, you turned on your heel, signaling him off with a mere wave of your hand. Damn old men, they really did freak you out. Usually Chrollo or the Troupe would’ve killed him on sight, but they weren’t with you. The familiar faces began to run through your mind, distracting you from the small white blurr standing in front of you.

In a split second, you could feel your aura activate itself as you collided with another examinee. As if it didn’t startle you, the small kid seemed to be falling off his board. Everything seemed to slow down for you, his surprised face turned into one of anger, and his pupils locked with yours.

You quickly shot out your hand, grabbing his wrist, holding him up so he wouldn’t fall on his back. His skateboard flipped in the air, but it seems he had already caught it. You thought to yourself, ‘Hey that was kind of cool’, and let go of his small wrist.

He shifted uncomfortably, his hair covering his blushing face, his hands clamping up into small fists. “Hey why don’t you watch where you’re going?! If I was someone else, you would’ve been dead the minute you touched me! But you got lucky this time, I don’t really want to pick a fight with anyone just yet.” He smiled confidently to himself, laying his board back onto the ground, his left foot pushing it back and forth. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t come after you, you old hag! Man, people like you won’t ever pass this exam! Especially when you can’t even walk without bumping into people?!”

You didn’t even get to open your mouth before he jumped back on his board, weaving through the crowd, blowing the small strands of hair from his face.

What a spoiled brat. Who the hell does he think he is? Telling you that you won’t pass the exam? Hell, you’d blow through this thing like it’s nothing. All you had to do was get your hunters license, and then shove it into that kids face.

Yeah, sounds simple enough.

That declaration of yours was made almost an hour ago, and now, waiting was getting old. For said hour, you’ve been sitting against the wall, playing with a small rubix cube. Instead of its natural colored squares, small little pieces of duct tape covered the surface. What was written on said tape, were the names of each troupe member.

You remembered Pakunoda spending an hour just writing the names down, wanting them to be spelled perfectly so you could read them correctly. This was years ago, probably when you were nearing age 5, the withered adhesives almost giving up.

Seeing as there were no school opportunities for you, Pakunoda mostly took charge of your education, wanting you to be as smart as possible. She really was motherly in a way, even when she denied it.

Her teaching certainly worked its wonders. Even though you came off as an idiot, your mind worked faster than what was natural. You could tell peoples moves before they even acted them out, which seemed to help greatly in the troupe’s line of work.

It seems they raised you to be a Phantom Troupe member, the spider tattoo being embedded in your mind, almost like a nightmare. It was truly Ironic, considering that you hated the very idea of joining the Spiders.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the elevator, and the doors slowly opened to reveal a group of three.

They were oddly fitting for a friend group. One of them was obviously a child, his innocent face matched his horrible sense of fashion. Next to him was a rather greasy... business man? He looked to be at least in his late twenties? It was an understatement to say that his limbs were of average length, because damn, those arms were long.

Your eyes then glanced over to his other partner. He was shorter, but much younger looking. He looked to be your age, which was very exciting for you. You never had a friend that was actually close to your age. Maybe you’d sneak in a word or two during this?

The longer you stared, the more you noticed about him. He had blonde hair that stopped right behind his ear, his eyes were soft, a calming grey color. If you stared at them any longer you were sure to get lost. It sounded cheesy, but you ignored that thought.

To be honest, everything about him screamed Mom friend, almost reminding you of Pakunoda in a way.

You watched as Beans, the Secretary that approached you not too long ago, gave them their badges. They were numbers; 403, 404, and 405.

They were likely the last ones to get here, which was good news in your book. Finally, the Hunter Exam was about to begin!

A few more minutes passed, and you shifted uncomfortably as you watched Tonpa walk up to the group. You didn’t necessarily care about the two older ones, but the kid seemed to bother you.

That’s when you decided to take your chances and try to rescue the trio. As you thought to yourself, you figured you most likely wouldn’t make it in time to stop them from drinking it, so you did the next best thing.

Your mind spewed apologies as you looked down at the rubix cube that resembled your childhood. With one last glance, you lined it up with the kids' drink. With a strong over handed throw, it spiraled towards the can, completely tearing through the thin metal.

Juice had sprayed all over Tonpa’s face, it’s orange contents seeping into his clothes. Maybe, just maybe, that would help him smell better.

With a quick smile, you cautiously jogged over. You held up one hand, waving as you came in peace. The closer you got, the more you noticed the blonde boy’s eyes. They seemed empty almost, like they were hiding something behind them. Tough childhood huh? You could relate.

You stopped as you got in front of them, rubbing the back of your neck as an act of nervous behavior. Good act. Keep it up. “So sorry guys, sometimes I forget I’m surrounded by other people! I kinda just threw it y'know?”

“That was… so cool!” The smaller boy piped in, his eyes adorned in admiration. “My names Gon! Gon Freccs! What’s your name?”

“Oh.” You were generally surprised by his positivity, seeing as you just knocked his source of hydration from his hands. “The names Y/N.” You held out your hand, taking the kids palm in yours. “Sorry for spilling your drink.. but I can’t say it was purely an accident. This guy has been trying to mess with people, I just felt like I had to warn you.”

With that, the blonde boy and his accomplice poured their drinks out, a disgusted look on their faces.

“Oh really? I thought it smelled weird! I’m glad to know I wasn’t having allergies or something!” Gon muttered the last part, rubbing the surface of his index finger underneath his nose, as if to wipe something off.

You nodded, a small smile reaching your lips. “Well Gon, and his…” you paused for a minute, your eyes meeting the blonde boys. “Accomplices? Besties…? Caretakers?”

“Friends is a better word.” The grey eyed boy said quickly. “My name is Kurapika, and this?” He gestured with his hands, pointing at Leorio’s stomach. “This is Leorio.”

“I think I can introduce myself, you damn blonde!” Leorio interrupted him, yelling in his face, his finger pointing into Kurapika’s chest.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. Seeing as I got it the first time” You said quickly, not wanting to hear it again.

You ignored the taller man as he started to spew nonsense, most of its contents having to do with insults directed towards you. Your small smile seemed to falter, suddenly remembering the very item you had used to save them was not in your hands.

That’s when your eyes dropped to the floor, searching for the old rubix cube that contained most of your memories of home. You felt your heart spike, the feeling of disappointment taking over.

On the outside you remained stoic, your shoulders merely shrugging as you let out a small groan of annoyance. “Damn, I lost that old thing again?”

“What thing?” Gon interjected, standing on his tippy-toes as he rocked back and forth. “You mean that toy?”

You cringed, your teeth grinding together as you glared him down. “That ‘thing’ is not a toy, it’s something very important to me.”

“Must not be ‘very important’ if you throw it at people.” Leorio retorted, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his suit sleeve. Why he wore it to an exam was beyond you.

“Well, no matter how important it is, I’m sure you’d like it back?” Kurapika cut Leorio off, trying to prevent whatever fight was about to break out between the two of you.

“Huh?” You broke your gaze with Leorio, only to meet the cold, empty eyes of Kurapika. “Well of course I’d want it back. It is mine after all.”

Leorio started to grow annoyed, most likely with the fact that you were ignoring him. “Hey! Don’t give him that crappy attitude! We’re being nice to you, so don’t overstay your welcome!”

“..You make it sound like I’m at your house.” You looked to him, your face forming into a scowl.

This sent the overdressed man into a blushing mess, his words coming out as broken stutters, his hands fumbling with the hems of his suit. It seems he did that a lot.

“Please ignore him.” Kurapika sighed, obviously embarrassed by his friend’s behavior. “But regarding the object of discussion, I think you should have it back.” With that, he reached his hand out, your rubix cube in his hand.

Your eyes quickly rushed down towards it, your hands quickly snatching from his own, scared that if you touched him, he’d know everything about you.

You let out a soft sigh of relief, putting the cube back in your small bag. Unbeknownst to you, the tape that once held your brother's name, was now somewhere along the ground.

“Thanks.” You muttered, your fingers tingling from where they had brushed against his. “..So, why not break the ice a little? Why are you guys trying to become Hunters?”

The small child opened his mouth to answer, but it seems it was cut short by a blood curdling scream.

You all turned your heads to the noise, being greeted by the sight that was Hisoka.

It seems someone had bumped into him, seeing as they were now in a fetal position on the ground, their arms missing as they disintegrated into little flowers. At least the flowers were pretty.

If matters couldn’t get any more interesting, the large door that you presumed was a wall opened, revealing who looked to be an Examiner.

He wore an all purple suit, his white hair almost looking like a soft lavender. His mustache seemed to cover his mouth, hiding whatever lurked inside of it. His name didn’t matter to you, frankly, none of these people did.

Atleast, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

TYSM FOR READING GUYS!!!!!! ALSO WHAT DO YOU THINK READER’S NEN ABILITY IS????? WGAJDHJWdAJDHkjshdkJhd

I HOPE THIS WAS ENOUGH tO SATISFY YOU THIS WEEK UMMMMMM!!!! LUCILFER READER AND KURAPIKA JUST HAD THEIR IINTRoDuctION TO EACHOTHER SO!!!

[flutteringphalanges]

Summary:  “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: M

Read on AO3 and FFN

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay, guy, life has been busy. School has started back up so between work, my grandfather's death on October 1st, and just writer's block in general, I haven't been myself. Due to this absence, I'm not sure if things have been forgotten so a quick recap if you will:

Dracula finds a gravely sick Agatha, kidnaps her and takes her to his castle, he cares for her but there is a lot of fighting, eventually sex ensues and with that comes feelings. Eventually, Agatha admits her feelings to the Count but when he doesn't immediately reciprocate, she decides to kill him. Things don't go as planned and Agatha makes the "wise" decision to leave the castle. This decision causes her to become mortally wounded in an accident. Dracula realizes the error in his ways and goes out searching and finds her near death. Admits his love for her and she, now satisfied, gives him permission to turn her. That's where we left off! Enjoy! Feedback/reblogs/comments what not greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                             Chapter Eleven

The dead don't dream. At least, that was what she decided to call this current state she was in. A dream. An unconscious state of sorts where reality was all but a hallucination. Agatha found herself standing, not even remembering getting up from where she lay dying on the rocks below. She might as well have materialized into that position. Gone was her blood and with it the snow and ice. All that remained was a foggy wall that surrounded her. Seemed to hold her caged as she tried to find her bearings.

For the briefest of moments, the former nun thought she was alone. Left only to her thoughts and silence. Her mouth opened to call out to someone, anyone, but not a word escaped. Instead, something began to form in her peripheral vision. Dark masses growing into familiar silhouettes. And soon Agatha found herself staring back at the literal ghosts of her past.

Mother Superior and her fellow sisters faced her from afar, their looks still and unreadable. Like her, no longer did they represent their final moments. The signs of their massacre gone. They merely stared, habits dancing by an unseen wind. Though it was not vocalized, she knew their judgement. What they surely thought of her. But as Agatha attempted to address them, the women faded away and a new form began.

He stood there a few meters away from her in the cover of the mist. His ancient face twisted into a look of pure hatred. Disgust. A knowing expression of disappointment that held the very meaning of the betrayal. This phantom image of Abraham her mind had created. A final vision as she cut the ties to her Van Helsing name. To mortality. As the apparition of her late grandfather began to disappear, so too the last thrums of her beating heart.

Agatha remained there in the darkness, in the threat of the void that seemed to want to swallow her whole. But just as the shadows reached out towards her, readying to drag her down, a familiar figure appeared. Their eyes met and shared a knowing glance. No longer was there distrust or ill-intent. No. There was kindness. Tenderness. And as Dracula moved closer, the blackness seemed to fade.

Agatha.

It was his voice calling to her, but his lips weren't moving. Agatha watched him perplexed, almost amused. The words echoed around her as if they were in a cave. She couldn't quite explain it, but it was him. Not some mere trick of her imagination.

Agatha. Wake up.

He was so close now. So close that if he wanted to, he could touch her. But the noise was growing louder and the former nun felt oddly light. When she tried to open her mouth to reply, no words escaped. The vampire smiled as the world around them began to slowly crumble away, disintegrating the plane between life and death.

Agatha, it's time to wake up.

Earth. Some sort of wood, perhaps cherry or magnolia. The more exclusive of materials. It was odd how she could identify that. It was certainly not pine. Her eyes flickered open and though it was dark, she could still clearly see the figure looming over her. The distinct features of his face. He was smiling down at her, but it was far from malicious. Warm, Relief. And she found herself returning the expression, feeling as if she had just woken up from a really long nap.

"Welcome back, Agatha Van Helsing." Dracula greeted, a hand reaching down to touch one of hers. "To the world of the undead."

"So it worked then?" His lover replied. "I'm not dead?"

"The formalities of what one would consider as deceased are rather...skewed, but yes, you are as much as a vampire as I am." The former nun's eyes narrowed, but the somewhat tired smile still etched itself across her pale features. "What?"

"I'm in a coffin aren't I?" She stated, turning her head to either side to inspect her surroundings. "Yours, if I'm not mistaken."

"Ours," he corrected. "With a few modifications, it will suit us better that way."

"I think I prefer my bed upstairs." The former nun smirked as she slowly sat up, gripping onto the Count's hands as she did. Dirty fell from the locks of her hair, and the few clumps of something that clung still she assumed were due to dried blood. But no longer was she in any sort of pain. "I'm rather dirty."

"Physically or mentally?" His joke got him a disapproving look. "Yes, I realize you didn't exactly wake up to being perfectly clean. After we were out there and I...well, you needed your rest. And I didn't want to risk altering things by dolling you up during the transformation."

She nodded as she gave herself a look over. Tattered clothes from torn branches. Though, all of her wounds had healed. Just the mess of old blood and dirt remained, a reminder of sorts of what occurred. Slowly, she brought her fingers to her neck and touched the telling indents. Dracula's eyes followed her as Agatha gently massaged the spot.

"Does it bother you?" There was genuine concern in his tone. "

"No." She shook her head. "It's just...funny."

He cocked a brow in confusion. "Funny? How so?"

Agatha thought for a moment, a thoughtful smile still playing on her face. "Never mind." She assured him. "If you don't mind, I'd rather like to clean up now." The woman paused, seeming to consider her next words carefully. "You are welcome to join me. I might require some assistance."

The concern left the vampire's face as his clawed fingers interlocked with her own. "It would be a pleasure." He assured her. "Shall we?"

                                                           XXX

The cool water ran a rusty brown as it trailed down her bare skin in rivulets. Despite the barely tepid temperature, she was not bothered by it. A perk of being a vampire she supposed. Though she had no need to, she still closed her eyes and inhaled as Dracula fingers ran through her hair, unknotting her messy locks until they were free once more. She smelled something sweet. Floral. Lavender perhaps? He must've infused the water with something-a gesture she did appreciate.

"You're quiet." She commented as his hands traveled to the small of her back. "That's rather unusual for you."

"It's been a rather unusual day." He replied, working the cloth against her skin. "You almost died. Permanently."

"And you said you loved me." The former nun countered. "Just as permanently, I hope."

His strong arms wrapped around her waist and Agatha's unneeded breath hitched in her throat. "Forgive me." The vampire murmured, words tickling her ear. "I suppose I wasn't as blunt in the beginning as I should've been."

"...I suppose I too should somewhat be apologetic." She smiled softly, turning so that they were face to face. "Maybe my actions were a bit...overdramatic." Agatha's fingers traced against his chest. "No matter. We have all the time in the world to figure things out, don't we?"

"Yes." Her lover agreed. "That we very much do." Reaching over, the vampire retrieved a clean towel from a bronze hook. "Come, let's get you dressed. As much as I love you like this, there is much to discuss." Dracula pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "We'll return to this later."

                                                       XXX

Her tongue ran against the bottom of her teeth, feeling the smooth, porcelain enamel that had yet to present itself as fangs. Even though she was a newborn, Agatha hadn't felt that overpowering urge to feed. She couldn't help but wonder if that was normal. This delay in blood thirst. And to think she had so many questions about vampiric nature while was still human. It was almost laughable.

"You look positively radiant by the fire light."

Dracula eyed her from the entrance way, a small plastered across his face. In just a few strides, the man stood before her. Tenderly, he tilted her chin up as if to study her features like a jeweler examining a rare gem.

"Seeing as my heart is no longer pumping blood and causing natural circulation, I suppose I need some source to brighten my features." The former nun smirked, eyes locking on his. "Thank you for the compliment."

"I have far, far more where that came from..." Her mate promised, touching his forehead to hers. "How are you feeling?" The warmth in his expression seemed to change to one of concern as he spoke. "Are you...adjusting fine?"

"I suppose as much as one can." She replied with a small smile. "Though, I really don't have much to go on seeing as I've never experienced a transformation first hand myself…Rather, being the one who is changed." Agatha clarified quickly.

"You'll need to eat soon." Dracula commented, gazing into the fire's light. "First hunt's the most important."

"I do not plan to kill the innocent." Her words caused the other vampire to turn and face her. "There must be other ways to exist or extract blood without harming the lives of humans."

"It doesn't work like that, Agatha." Her lover replied with a small frown. "Our species is different. We don't have the choice of eating just meat or vegetables or substitutions of any sort. We require blood. Human blood at that. And as distasteful as it may sound to you now, you haven't really the choice."

"There is always a choice." The woman countered, arms folded across her chest. "And if I must muster up the will-power and strength to find it, I shall. But I simply won't conform to your standards and murder because I need to. A cow is different from a human. They aren't as complex. They don't think. Don't have complicated lives, loved ones like people do."

"I almost lost you, must we seriously get into a disagreement now?" The vampire sighed, massaging his temples. "Blood is lives, Agatha. And now, it will become your life just as much as it has become part of mine." He went to rest his hands on her shoulders, but she stepped back. "Give it a chance, Agatha. I promise, you'll adjust far easier than you think."

"If you truly love me, you'll help me come up with a better solution." Agatha replied firmly, still hellbent on her good ways. "There must be another way." She ignored the expression of irritation that sat fixed across his features. "You've proven yourself to me before, Count Dracula. I have faith, though it may be perhaps little now, you can do so again."

"Your stubbornness has followed you into this new life, I see." Dracula grumbled, clearly perturbed that the former nun was still set on her ways. After everything they'd gone through together. "Why must you make things so difficult?"

"There will be no killing on my end." Agatha repeated, standing her ground. Once more she ran her tongue across her smooth teeth, her fangs yet to show despite the small growl that emanated from the pit of her stomach. "Those are my terms."

Dracula was silent for a moment. "You are making things quite difficult. None of my brides were ever this...picky…"

"Do you consider me to be one of your brides then?" Agatha inquired with a cocked brow.

"...No." Came his response after a long pause. "...I consider you to be quite, quite more."

Neither spoke after he uttered those words, a pregnant pause left between them. Then Agatha stepped forward and touched his cool cheek with her equally cool hand. His gazed back into the blues of her eyes with his dark ones. Love was merely a construct, he had convinced himself long ago. And yet, now where he stood, it seemed quite the opposite.

"I can make no promises nor can I say I can do much more than try." He replied quietly. "But for you, I will look into more humane ways. But if I cannot find such things, you must swear to me that you will feed from whomever no matter the costs."

Agatha pursed her lips but said nothing. Dracula nodded his head knowing full well this was going to be a mere impossible task. After centuries of feeding on only humans, how was he to know of any sort of substitutes? But he just got Agatha back. Just confessed his feelings. And for her, if he could, he'd offer her the world and whatever with it.

"I believe in you." Agatha stated, pulling the man from his thoughts. "Find it in yourself to do the same."

A statement, he would not admit allowed, that was easier said than done.

[phantomphangphucker]

Time’s A Game That Plays Us All

ClockWork sees all the plays that can be taken, then substitutes their own. And Danny’s always been their king.

Using the tropes: Play-Along Prisoner and Take A Third Option

There’s a legend of old, from a long time ago. Something you could find if you flipped through a ghost hunters book selection. Having been written about in the first incarnation of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, still remaining largely unchanged outside of language from this original copy, in every subsequent edition. This legend so vital that the creature behind it was listed as a co-author in the book itself. If you asked any ghost hunter why, they’d say it was obvious, much of the information came from this creature. Their work, their profession, was spurred by the very same creature.

See back in the day, before ghost hunting, before any knowledge of ghosts, there had always been stories and rumours of strange glowing creatures. Some humanoid, some animalistic. They caused havoc or skittishly avoided the humans, though most wrote them off as visions or the ravings of the mad/ill. That is except for a select few, eventually anyway. The select few who knew, came to know, when a small little creature who held age in their eyes yet the form of a small buck-toothed child made their presence known to these select few. The first being Galvion Ingride Whitefoot, Adrian G. Groove -ever followed by an albino tiger-, Exterian Slav Break, and Josephine D. Fetonightingal. Of course they had all known each other, to some degree. Met on occasions, even if their respective families grew apart to the point where eventual modern relatives were unawares. But together they had written the first edition of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, after the glowing floating child -with no legs to speak of- had offered their hand and words. Had spoken of another world, filled with creatures of wonder and horror much the same as the creature themselves. Had told them of the nature of these creatures' existence, the dead yet given ‘life’ anew. How they had pointed where they needed to go to find such similar creatures in their living world. Allowed them to witness the power these creatures could wield and how to protect against it.

At first all had questioned the small, well-spoken and mild-mannered creature; and of course they contained/trapped it as best they could. Why would they tell them such things? Give them tools to fight or defend? But they learned that this one, who used their dark purple cloak to hide, instead of invisibility. How they floated around not through things. How they never fired off one of those ecto-blasts, as they said they were called. They all came to realise that this creature did not possess the abilities of the others. And not only that, but none of the other creatures seemed to know the child-like ones’ name; yet they often knew each other’s. These four also noted how every creature they encountered seemed to represent something: sleep, plants, weather, water, electricity, and so on.

Leaving them all to come to the conclusion that this blue-skinned one, with their words of guidance, represented humanity's defence against these creatures. That they were nature’s way of defending her living children and revealing, through the presence of this weak yet wise creature, who would do it best. It was also decided that the strange ticking thing in the ghost's chest represented the growth and time needed to develop and guide a new ghost hunter. Every human who saw this creature, captured it, came to these very same conclusions; and as the story goes, as soon as they did, that very creature would appear with their soft smile and crimson eyes and tell them the name of these creatures they were to fight ‘ghosts’. Then they’d be seen no more. This final appearance came to be seen as the universes seal of approval for the ghost hunter. Their graduation from a young apprentice, learning their role in the world, to ghost hunter in true; and every single one would go on to be masters of their craft, pioneers.

Of course, in the many years that followed, not every ghost hunter saw and caught this small wise ghost, but every single one that did went on to be influential. Those that didn’t, regardless of drive, never seemed to stick with the field, never excelled at creating their own weapons, never made any new discoveries. So it was something of an understood truth that this ghost knew who would make a good true ghost hunter, and simply did not waste their time with any others.

For Jack Fenton, he had seen the ghost in his early youth, had learned everything with wild abandon. Of course his family had always known of ghosts and of the legend, to say they had been ecstatic when Jack claimed to have captured the ghost, would be an understatement.

Maddie Fenton, on the other hand, met this ghost only shortly before meeting Jack. But the knowledge the small ghost gave seemed so obvious to her, so right. Meeting Jack had been easy and obvious after that. The two lovers had felt a little bad for their friend Vlad, having never seen or heard of this ghost. But they knew even those not chosen could be good ghost hunters, and who were they to reject someone’s passion? Though neither was truly surprised when he seemingly dropped out of the ecto-field all together, especially with the accident. Though Maddie’s pretty sure she saw him flipping through a Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book and scoffing at the small ghost, muttering that clearly this little ghost was nothing but a silly myth.

And now, Jack finds himself flipping through his Fenton family edition of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, smiling fondly and reminiscing slightly over the sketch of the old wise ghost. Though frowning slightly as he traces the scar on the ghosts face. He remembers asking how that happened, after all it was known that he did not use to have it. The only answer he had ever gotten was ‘such is the marks of old beasts that watch, the foolish and power-mad who can not tolerate what they can not control’. Jack gathers it was from another ghost, one who somehow knew of and how to find the small ghost that no others seemed to.

He turns his head and smiles as his wife sits down. Maddie looking at the book and smiling herself, speaking quietly, “wonder if either of the kids will see him”.

Jack chuckles, “surely one will! At least one Fenton child always does. Heck! Both me and my brother did”.

Maddie giggles slightly and nods before frowning a little, “I do worry though Jack dear. Neither seem to have any interest. In fact, they almost seem put-off”.

“I wouldn’t give up faith yet Mads. You certainly had no interest when you were their age after all!”.

Maddie giggles and nods, silently joining her husband in flipping trough the heirlooms pages.  

ClockWork watches the interaction through one of many viewing portals, smiling ever so slightly. Turning their head to another, watching Daniel teasing and insulting Walker before flying lazily home.

Everything had worked out as it should. Everyone was where and who they needed to be. And yet there was a roadblock. A problem. Daniel’s skill at lying and hiding was a much-needed one, a true necessity. But even a fool could see the rift it caused and how it blocked the future of progress.

Ghost hunters, though needed for their purposes, had become advanced enough to pose threats. Not just to single ghosts, but every ghost, the world even. Such a level of advancement was needed of course, had resulted in Phantom. But now, the Observants were nervous, many ghosts were. Enough so that the Zone itself was being affected by all the negative emotions. That wouldn’t change if change didn’t happen. ClockWork chuckles over such phrasing, they had a plan of course, always did. Ghost hunters needed to change, their opinions needed to change. It had to come from the influential of course, not from ClockWork themselves, that wasn’t their purpose. They were a guider not a symbol of change. No, that was Phantom’s place, Daniel’s place.

Phantom couldn’t be exposed yet, not quite, but the forming rift with his parents would cause issues if it continues to grow before the day came for them to know exactly who and what Daniel was.  

Looking back to the portal with the two parents, this provided an opportunity of sorts. ClockWork knows that while they look at this scene, the book, with a slight smile the Observants instead frown. More than a little displeased with ClockWork’s past decision.

See ClockWork always has some plan or another, some idea for the future. That was part of their purpose after all. So of course they did back when humans had first come into existence in genuine, started making the world their bitch so to speak. All the other ghosts at the time, ClockWork’s fellow Ancients, firmly refused the idea that these weak fleshy creatures would ever pose any kind of threat to them. They existed in two different dimensions, sure there were occasionally natural portals between the two planes but all the other mortal creatures never paid any mind to any ghosts causing mischief or hanging about; why would these ‘humans’ be any different.

ClockWork knew better, saw better; so they acted better. Humans would know of ghosts, of course they would, there was no possible future where they would not. And humans were egotistical creatures, things that would steamroll over all other species they could. They also would grow to have a never-ending love for knowledge, that was something ClockWork could appreciate; feel fond of.

So while the other ghosts dismissed these humans ClockWork made plans, made themselves known to the humans. The other ghosts that even knew of ClockWork were uneasy with this but even back then no one questioned ClockWork, well...besides those foolish Observants; who thankfully did not yet exist.

ClockWork appeared to them with careful forethought, let the human capture them, and the knowledge that there really was only two options. Neither of which ClockWork paid any mind. Though fine, technically humans could be blocked out from knowing about ghosts, eliminate any who truly became knowledgable; ClockWork could certainly do that, but that would be far less interesting.

So either humans would know and live in fear, or they would know and come to make it impossible for new earth ghosts to be formed. Both options would make halfas impossible, coexistence impossible. So ClockWork hardly considered them actual options.

Instead letting humans know ghosts, but with the added effect of appealing to their pride. The human belief that they where the top species. That they could crush anything. Simply by showing them weaker ghosts, by altering natural ghost portals, by appearing to them as a guiding hand and without their staff visible, by allowing themselves to be seen as ‘trapped’. And so ClockWork became the stuff of legends to them, and an utter unknown to ghosts; excluding those eyeballs of course.

And why did they exist? The Observants? Well, because their fellow Ancients felt there needed to be overseers, never knowing they already had one in ClockWork. Leaving them with more decisions to make, plans to enact. Of course these knew ghosts would know of ClockWork, be insulted and fearful of the master of time’s power. All beings fear the powerful that they can not control. So these new ghosts would try to control ClockWork, try to force their hand, try to remove or alter them. The Observants, like all creatures, would have motives of their own; would lack objectivity. So either ClockWork was to find a way to hide from them or accept their future actions towards them. Or ClockWork could interfere, alter them to ClockWork’s own design. Bar them from being able to act, from being able to harm. They would be watchers and watchers only. The ghosts would get what they want, and ClockWork would do as ClockWork pleases. Sure ClockWork could just stop them from successfully creating the Observants at all, but where’s the fun in that? Plus, annoying them would become a beloved past time.

So ClockWork lets the other ghosts see these Observants as all powerful overseers; as judge, jury and executioner. Let the Observants fool themselves too. Sure they had enough power to lock up any ghosts that ClockWork, unknowingly to them, let them lock up. But ClockWork would stand as the only executioner, and they knew that.

This decision also helped ClockWork remain an unknown to other ghosts, the Observants didn’t want their lack of power, lack of ability to act, known; and ClockWork was the proof of that. But since ClockWork exists in every different possible future there was, the Observants could never truly control who knew and who didn’t. Only ClockWork could, simply manipulate toward the future they wanted in such a way that the Observants couldn’t so much as object beyond complaining pointlessly.

Smirking at the viewing portal as the two parents head to the lab, it was showtime. ClockWork never appeared to ghost hunters after they finished their apprenticeship, humans need to bloom and blossom of their own accord; else you hurt their egos. But rules were there to be broken and rules couldn’t hold ClockWork. In short, they were a dirty little cheater.  

Jack’s leaning over a microscope while Maddie jerks up and gapes, absentmindedly pushing the button to activate the ghost containment cell right where the familiar purple-cloaked ghost floated. She knew shapeshifting ghosts existed and both her and Jack’s time with him was long past. This couldn’t possibly be? Could it? She speaks softly while the ghost just floats there with a soft smirk, “Jack dear, I think you should look at this”.

Jack looks up, a bit caught off guard by his wife’s cautious but awed tone. He promptly drops the slide he was holding, it shattering as it hits the ground, “you? but it can’t be. Why?”.

ClockWork grins, and gives their typical half-truths, “oh I’m not here to play guide for you. I’ve merely made use of the weakened veil here”, gesturing to the Fenton portal, “that is why you find me here”.

Maddie tilts her head, this was clearly not a fake, “we always just thought you stayed in the mortal world somehow or travelled through natural portals”.

“Not all means bare the same outcomes”, ClockWork glances at the stairs, “and maybe you ought research through more wandering means. You might find something interesting”.

Maddie squints slightly, “and what are you going to do. You never need to go through such indirect means to get to new hunters”.

ClockWork smiles, of course this confrontation was completely avoidable but they had a test to give, “you’ll understand in time. There are plenty of paths one could take. Most often the path I point along is walked with me alone. But every so often that road must open to accommodate fellow travellers”.

Maddie and Jack exchange a look before Jack gets up, asking with barely contained excitement, “are you saying we get to help who your guiding! Oh this is so awesome Mads!”.

ClockWork smiles as the two head up the stairs, “we’ll see how the road forks. They’ll find me, no worries about the shield”. Maddie squints back at them, clearly wondering how whoever was going to find them but deciding that they hardly could do harm in the shield and were trustable enough to leave alone. Unaware they could simply teleport out.

Ten minutes later Danny comes home and phases through the ceiling invisibly to empty his thermos, only to pause and gape slightly before chuckling and shaking his head at spotting ClockWork inside the ghost containment cell. Emptying the thermos as he speaks, “hey CW, um why? Not that I’m questioning your ways, but I’m questioning your ways”.

ClockWork floats towards him, separated only by the shield while Danny transforms back human. ClockWork speaking with a slight smile, “you’re mortal guardians are as paranoid as expected to the appearance of ghosts, even those they think fondly of”.

Danny blinks and jerks slightly, “wait, my parents know you? ‘Think fondly’ of you?”, Danny’s not surprised his folks would trap some ghost in the containment cell, that was literally the point. And it’s not like ClockWork actually needed help getting out.

ClockWork gives a slow nod, “but of course. Many ghost hunters do”.

“Why???”.

“The same reason I involve myself in anyone’s existence, to guide them on their path”.

Danny shakes his head, this was a little absurd, “so you’ve been responsible for people becoming hunters? Why would you do that? Wouldn’t it be better for the people that want to obliterate and tear apart molecule by molecule, every ghost, not to know things?”.

ClockWork holds up a hand and gestures around, “dealing with such things, with antagonism, strengthens us and our defences. Of course, only to so many degrees. With humans, we’ve always had two options, bar the mortals from knowing of ghosts or have them know but fear our power. I merely ensured they’d instead believed they could face us in might”.

Danny snorts and rolls his eyes a little, “so you let them believe a lie?”, shrugging, “and fine, if anyone knows that fighting and experiencing all the ways people can come up to hurt you, can make you stronger; then it’s me”.

ClockWork sticks up a finger, “indeed you do, and I let you believe your family would die; lies have their benefits”.

Danny glares slightly, “that was low”.

ClockWork completely dismisses his displeasure, “good truths are always low blows”, smiling slightly, “besides, how better to control who gets to be a hunter and harvest a collection of apprentices”.

Danny blinks at that, “wait, what?”.

ClockWork smirks, Danny could be hard to really surprise or confuse nowadays, “how do you think any of them know anything about ghosts? I’m a wise fellow”, ClockWork gestures to the ghost shield.

Danny blinks at them, “oh my Ancients. Do you just let hunters capture you to teach them random things?”, sure Danny had done the dumbshit and let his folks capture him but they were his parents, family, it was different.

ClockWork just responds like this was perfectly reasonable and expected. “precisely”.

Danny facepalms, speaking with slight humour though, “my guardian is an idiot”.

ClockWork waves him off, “oh hardly, I always know the outcomes. Plus it’s high time your family knows your guardian”, Danny instantly looks rather panicked and disbelieving, so ClockWork continues, “they won’t be bothered, in fact, they’ll find it quite the good sign. A sign you’ll be a ‘helpful’ spector, seeing as they believe you’ll be a ghost”.

Now Danny’s gaping again, “excuse?”.

“Daniel, you set off their detectors and literally can’t be de-ecto-contaminated. Of course, they think you’re going to become a ghost”.

Danny throws his hands out to the side and walks in a little circle, “well that’s news to me”.

“They don’t mention it because they don’t want to scare you”, floating to follow Danny as he walks around the room a little and holding up a finger, “but now you can get them to open up through revealing you at least know the same, without giving away that you know because you already are”, smirking, “thanks to a helpful guardian”.

Danny blinks, realising this’ll pretty much get him off the hook for tons of weird ghostly shit, “you sneaky bastard”. ClockWork gives a devilish grin just before Maddie and Jack come down the stairs.

Jack beams, thinking back on the earlier words of the tiny ghost, “Danny-boy! So you’ve seen the little guy!”, walking up and patting Danny on the shoulder, who just looks confused and a bit freaked out. While Jack keeps talking, hopefully explaining this particular ghost will make his rather ghost fearing son less seemingly freaked, “this one’s the spirit of hunters! Our profession! Always appears before and guides those destined to be hunters! This is great!”, wiping a tear from his eye, “my boy’s gonna be a fine hunter”.

Danny has to hold back a laugh at calling ClockWork ‘the spirit of hunters’ while also deciding to not jump the gun on what his parents actually know about ClockWork, “er and what do you call them?”, Danny deadpanning, “if you say ‘Hunter’ I will be deeply disappointed”.

Maddie shakes her head with a smile, “don't be silly sweetie, this is an important day in your destiny of being a ghost hunter”, smiling at the tiny spirit, “we call him Herne”. Jack butts in, “which is why the name means mythical hunter!”, smiling some, “even if he’s a tiny thing with no abilities to actually hurt anyone with”.

Danny looks at ClockWork, firmly realising humans know goddamn nothing about them. Maybe they weren’t too much of an idiot. Flicking his eyes back to his parents, “no abilities?”.

Jack nods, surely this ghost being weaker will ease his son up some, “being able to form and float is really all he can do”, smiling at the little ghost, “not that that matters, he’s a wise little guy”.

ClockWork chuckles, “yes, foresight and a keen mind makes up for much. Doesn’t it”, holding up a hand, “but I am here for a different reason of sorts”.

Danny’s instantly nervous as his parents look ClockWork with confusion and slight caution.

Jack and Maddie exchange a glance, surely this explained the strange way the little ghost had appeared. Why they caught the ghost and not Danny. Maddie asking, “his paths a little different, isn’t it?”. While Jack frowns slightly, “is he not going to be a hunter?”.

ClockWork smiles softly, “to you I am but a giver of wisdom and guidance, a mentor of sorts and a hand to point in the right direction”, turning to Danny and smiling, while Danny just looks nervous as ClockWork continues, “but to him I am guardian. A mentor in truth and spiritual parent of sorts, for a young little ghost”. Danny does his damnedest to not outwardly cringe over being point-blank called a ghost by a ghost, in front of his parents.

Jack and Maddie go a little wide-eyed before smiling again, Jack beaming at ClockWork, “that’s great! So he’ll be like you then!?! A guiding spirit, rather than like all those malicious ghosts!”, Jack taps his chin, “though that still doesn’t explain why we needed to be seeing you again”.

While Maddie looks more softly at Danny and holds her hands to her chest then, picking up that he seemed a bit nervous but not exactly surprised, “and you’re alright knowing this? That you’ll be a ghost some day? You don’t seem all that surprised”.

Danny rubs his neck, “heh, well I mean, half your stuff already calls me one and all that”. ClockWork thankfully takes mercy on him and adds in, “and after all, we have met before”.

Maddie and Jack both blink at Danny, Jack instantly asking, “well why didn’t you say so Danny-boy?!?”. Though Maddie clues in that Danny not telling them about this was exactly why Herne showed up to them. He decided that they needed to know about this, likely for Danny’s future development. Which means that Danny likely wouldn’t have told them on his own.

Danny glances at ClockWork and gives them the stink-eye, officially not very thankful. Before looking back to his parents, “well, you’ve never actually talked nice about any ghost. And I didn’t want to get into an argument about them”, rubbing his neck a bit and knowing his folks will be a little more than not happy about this in one regard anyway, “they saved my life after all, so it would bug me someone talking bad about them”.

Both of them instantly look to ClockWork, practically beaming at the ghost though fretting over their son even needing his life saved. Maddie nodding at them, “thank you. If we weren’t already on good terms, we would be now”.

Jack throwing an arm around Danny and hugging him a bit protectively, “but what could have put his life in danger? Especially in a way for you to be saving him?”.

Maddie nods and looks a little sheepish, “you’re not exactly a powerful one”.

Danny sends ClockWork a bit of a pleading look because his folks calling basically the strongest ghost ever 'weak', was too absurd and funny for him to not eventually break down laughing over.

ClockWork eyes the ghost shield they’re ‘trapped’ behind, wondering which path the two will take. Trust them and let the shield down or hold on to their ghost bigotry and keep it up. Be the first to really be around them without them being captured in some device or shield. Smirking slightly as Jack, noticing ClockWork’s eyeballing of the shield, promptly deactivates it. ClockWork floats over to pat Danny’s head before turning to the two parents, ClockWork speaking while Danny’s a bit in shock from his parents actually smiling over a ghost touching him, “indeed, there are some ghosts who fear other ghosts with influence. Seek to get rid of them before they can gain said influence”.

Danny knows damn well ‘influence’ is just a subtle way to say ‘powerful’. And he’s also feeling a slightly renewed distaste for the Observants.

Maddie scoffs, “of course those spooks would dislike any ghost,”, glancing at Danny, “or ghosts, that help humans”.

Jack taps his chin, looking to ClockWork, “I imagine these ghosts can’t destroy ones like you?”, looking at Maddie before looking back to ClockWork, “we always thought you avoided being harmed or bothered by other ghosts by simply being unknown to them”.

ClockWork chuckles, “most don’t know of me. But there are other reasons”, looking to Danny, “and they’re welcome to really know me, Daniel. It would be rather mean to have your mortal family not know your ghostly one”.

Danny tilts his head back, “oh thank Ancients”, though he knows damn well ClockWork isn’t fine with them knowing because it would be ‘mean’ otherwise.

ClockWork smirks, “no need to thank me”, Danny makes a face at them for that before chuckling.

Jack smiles, “well I’m glad you have similar humour!”, looking at the little spirit and tilting his head some, “are you saying we don’t know everything about you? That we’re missing a lot?”.

Maddie smiles sweetly at Jack, “Jack dear, he’s never so much as told us if he has a real name. It is expected”.

Danny shakes his head, “I'm kind of amazed you trust them at all then”.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair, “well, he is why we are hunters really and he’s harmless”.

Danny chuckles and eyes ClockWork, who nods, “you can tell them much of what you know of me”, smirking mischievously, “I encourage it in fact”.

Danny squints at them and chuckles, “you just want to enjoy causing confusion and startling them”.

ClockWork nods with a slight smile, speaking almost cruelly, “and piss off the Observants, of course”.

Danny blinks and turns fully to them, “you really did just name drop them huh?”, turning back to his parents and rubbing his neck, “Observants, those are the ghosts that tried to ‘get rid of me’”.

Jack scowls, “well we hate them then”.

ClockWork nods, “good, now you’ll never help them”. ClockWork doesn’t need their viewing portals to see the Observants shrieking in annoyance and trashing five different plots to restrict multiple different ghosts.

Danny squints at them, “do you always have to have five different reasons for doing things?”, shaking his head and looking back to his parents and gesturing his arms out to ClockWork, “this is weird but, um, this is ClockWork and they are not even kind of close to the definition of weak or harmless”.

Maddie tilts her head at ClockWork then Danny, “but we’ve scanned him, them, nothing but floating really”. While Jack beams and tries out the name ‘ClockWork’ a few times before asking, “does your name have any meaning?!? Ghost’s names often do”.

Danny squints at ClockWork, Danny knows how he himself tricked their scanners but ClockWork was a full ghost, “how did you even pull that off?”, Danny squints more and really looks ClockWork over before facepalming, “your staff?”. ClockWork’s power was focused in their staff after all.

ClockWork grins and summons their staff, making Maddie blink and get slightly closer to look the staff over quickly; though never actually touching it, “oh! You do actually have some kind of weapon”.

While ClockWork nods at Maddie, “yes and no, this is much more a conduit than a weapon. I do have a scythe as well though”, Danny can’t help but chuckle at that a little; full well knowing that weapon was used exclusively for reaping ghosts that needed to be removed, which was a bit hilarious. While ClockWork promptly startles both of the parents by suddenly changing into their adult form, speaking while they gape at the ghost they only ever knew as a small child-like ghost, “as for my name, it indeed holds plenty meaning. It is, after all, my job and purpose to ensure that the hands on the universe's clock go round and round, until oblivion can no longer be chased off”.

Danny chuckles and shakes his head at ClockWork, who changes to the form of an old man. Danny speaking to his parents, “they mean time control, guys. The very fabric of time is basically theirs to bend and alter”, rolling his hand, “add in being able to see all of the past, present, and every future possible”, looking at ClockWork, “they’re arguably one of the most powerful ghosts there is, not to mention oldest”.  

The two adults raise their eyebrows a bit at ClockWork who nods ever so slightly, “I’ve been around since the beginning, guiding the universe along on its most lengthy path. Watching everything grow along exactly as its supposed to be. Of course that also means I plan when each being eventually stops and falls, guide them to when it is best they be destroyed”.  

Maddie mutters a bit startled and less than pleased, “so you’re more neutral than good, less altruistic and more manipulative”.

Danny instantly shakes his head, “no, they’re just more altruistic on a universal scale, the bigger picture kind of thing. A true neutral, completely objective, I guess”.

ClockWork nods and speaks while patting Danny’s head, “precisely”, sending the parents a small smile, “I have no interests towards ghosts, nor humans, nor earth; but rather existence and time itself”, chuckling a little and side-eyeing Danny slightly, “and I must say, I’ve certainly pushed and pulled many a thing to ensure Daniel exists precisely as he does and will”.

Jack blinks at Danny and pats him on the shoulder, “is he really going to be that important?”, chuckling at Danny, “no pressure son”.

Danny barely stops himself for muttering ‘too late’ and instead just nods slightly. While Maddie’s releasing that this ghost can’t truly be trusted, humans were not where their priorities lay. But that they absolutely did have her son's survival? benefit? well-being? happiness? -well, maybe not that last one. Something tells her that ClockWork would harm or traumatise anyone for the sake of the universe- at their metaphorical heart.

ClockWork smirks, “that is for time to know and the world to see. But if you must know, him simply existing as he does has saved the world more than once”. Danny has to resist cringing at that, seeing as they were pretty effectively leaving out him causing it once.

Jack beams at that, his boy was already doing good! Somehow. Promptly hugging Danny, “good for you Danny-boy! Though I wonder how you managed that?”.

Everyone looks to ClockWork then, full well knowing they know exactly how. They simply smirk, “now that would be telling, wouldn’t it. The simplest of things can change everything, even picking up a rock verses not, could alter everything. Even how much someone knows or doesn’t, can”.

Danny chuckles a little fondly, which his parents definitely pick up on, while Danny speaks, “you’re always an enigma huh”.

Jack and Maddie smile a little fondly, though feeling like outsiders a bit as the two seem to one-up each other in sounding confusing. They both knew their boy was a bit odd, an enigma, so clearly they were two of a kind. That makes it clear Danny’s future lied with this ghost, rather than their profession; whatever that actually meant. Maddie decides to push that, he’s their boy, they should know what his job/future was/would be. Looking at ClockWork, “you’ve still got a way with words, but what are you even guiding Danny with?”.

ClockWork gives both the honest answer and the most confusing one, “everything and nothing. The same as that which you do, except with less restraints and a finger in every pie”, smiling at Danny, “a Guardian has the role of parent when dealing with ghosts”.

Jack’s a bit confused but that’s pretty come-by, “but ghosts don’t need to be taught how to ghost?”.

Maddie shakes her head slightly and tilts her head, “But what is he going to be doing?”.

ClockWork pats Danny’s head, they were not wrong, even with a halfa. Though no ghost just knew how the Zone’s politics worked. But the existence of many levels of law and government within the Zone was not for them to know, not yet. “But of course, ghosts know themselves well, but not so much other ghosts. After all, have you met any who know of me? And”, holding up a finger and smirking at Maddie, “everything. He’ll find there’s little he won’t do”.

Maddie blinks and mutters, “are you trying to say he’s going to be all powerful or control ghosts”.

Danny makes a damn point not to react, considering the whole High Ghost Prince thing, meaning his mom was absolutely right. Though he then gapes at ClockWork and throws his hands out to the side as they promptly teleport away with a twirl of their staff and a wink. Danny groans at the thin air where they used to be, “seriously time-pants?”.

Jack and Maddie both can’t help but laugh while Danny grumbles more while looking at them, “they always make their timing dramatic”.

Jack nods a little, “I did nearly face-plant into them when they showed up for me”. Maddie giggles a little but nods, “they startled me enough that I set my original college application on fire”.

Danny snorts, “tossed through a time portal and slammed my face into a giant bell, five times”. Jack chuckles, “that’s way more silly”.

Maddie nods but looks Danny over, “do you know what that wink meant?”.

“Probably five different things. One part is definitely just to cause mischief and drama. Could be referring to a possible future or just wants to let someone think that’s the case”, is Danny lying a little? Yeah. Is he just going to out the whole prince/future king thing? Ancients no.

Maddie shakes her head and mutters, “now I'm questioning everything to do with them“.

Danny snorts and goes to walk upstairs, “either question everything or accept everything. Both at the same time? I go with that”.

Jack mutters as Danny leaves fully, “I don’t think you can do that really”.

ClockWork watches through a viewing portal, the questions were in place and, watching with a slight smirk as pissed off Observants inadvertently knock a very particular book from the future through a strategically placed portal and lands on the Fenton lab floor, said questions would be answered.

While Jack spots the glowing book and gets a little excited, the two instantly start flipping through to find it’s a storybook, a book telling the tale of a legend.

A king of youth in a castle of dark brick, lording over a word of mythical creatures of the dead persuasion. Spoken of as kind and just, yet powerful and resolute. A black and white dragon, with eyes that see every shade. Who proved his strength through countless battles, and a battered body that moved with pride. Who proved his mind through quick-witted wordplay, and hiding amongst the enemy.

But what really caught the parents’ eyes were the black and gray pictures, the sketches. Largely of landscapes, the castle of course and the flora filled land surrounding it. But also some of a blazing crown and extravagant cape, a sword of ice carved with flowers and skulls. Though they trace their fingers over the silhouette drawing of this king, swinging the sword at another figure with a near-identical physique but flaming hair and snake tongue. It’s titled ‘First Trial’. The king could easily be an older Danny, but they couldn’t be certain.

But what really makes them pause and share a glance is a landscape piece, where a strange clocktower could be seen in the background. Surrounded by floating gears, much the same as the one ClockWork wore for a clasp.

Maddie squints down at the image and runs off looking for a microscope, coming back and hovering it over one of the windows in the clocktower to see ClockWork -in child form- winking right at her with a circular something showing the image of her and Jack leaning over this very book. Maddie jerking back and whispering, “Zone that cheeky bastard”, before flipping to the last page. Both parents blinking down at a familiar-sounding quote signed with a fanciful yet nearly illegible ‘CW’.

“Existence is a story we weave, but a story unread is a story yet to be solidified. What we know can change everything, and once knowledge is written and known, it becomes something to last forevermore”.

Jack scratches his head and mutters, “did we just ensure Danny would become a king or something, or a paradox would happen?”.

Maddie knits her fingers together and speaks into her hands, “I think we did”.

Neither parent’s sure whether they should scream and be pissed or be proud.

ClockWork simply smiles while two Observants float in demanding, “ClockWork, what did you do”.

“My job”.

“It’s your job to watch time, not play favourites. He will destroy us”.

ClockWork turns and levels them with an unreadable gaze, “you mean further restrict and take your power? Precisely. Just because I am not a player on the field doesn’t mean I’m not in control. Time is the field board, and I tilt as I please. You’re simply referees, you are nothing without the players and you’ve been betting on the wrong ones. All in the name of your search for dominance. For those you could control or who lacked the strength to ever stand against you. But in the end”, ClockWork floats to be closer to them almost menacingly, “this game is played in a grandiose casino, and the house always wins in time”.

End.

[the--sad--hatter]

Phantom Pain (23)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF.

DESCRIPTION - Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom.

Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Three - The Kingdom Falls

Your father knew you were The Phantom, but you couldn’t be sure if your Uncle knew. What you were certain of was that even if Thaddeus Ross knew, he didn’t know you knew you’d been outed. You still had the upper hand and you were going to use it.

“Secretary Ross will see you now. “His assistant told you.

 You grinned at her and teetered down the hall after her, walking into your uncle’s office when she waved you in.

 “Uncle Thaddy.” You greeted happily.

 “Where have you been? You disappeared during the funeral, didn’t even stay for the condolences or to thank anyone for coming.” He admonished straight away, not even saying hello.

 “I was so afraid I was going to slip up and say something that gave us away.” You said with a chastised expression.

 “Well I suppose that was wise.” He admitted.

 “I went to Daddy’s Brooklyn office, to make sure there was nothing Hydra related there.” You told him.

 “He has a Brooklyn office?” Ross snapped.

 “Uh huh, I thought you knew that? Well I found all these reports and things about a project you and he were working on and I thought nothing of it until I saw something about Gamma Radiation and I remembered Dr Banner talking about Gamma Radiation and The Hulk, he’s always rambling on to me even though I don’t understand anything about it. He’s funny like that, I think he’s talking to himself you know. I don’t think he knows I’m even there. Maybe he’s talking to The Hulk? Can The Hulk hear him?” You rambled.

 “The reports? What about these reports? What did they say?” Your Uncle demanded worriedly.

 “Oh, those? Uh that you and he were building something but the project shut down after an accident that almost resulted in… what was it? Hang on.” You said, pulling a file out of your bag.

 “Catastrophic loss of civilian life, though had the experiment wielded more promising results the reward would have surpassed the risks.” You read aloud.

 “Damnit Alexander, I wasn’t supposed to be tied back to that. He was supposed to destroy all the records of it. Listen to me, I need you to find every single shred of paper, every computer file and bring it to me.” Ross ordered you, snatching the file out of your hands.

 “Ok… Anything you need uncle Thaddy. What was the Project Called?” You asked.

 He clenched his jaw and looked you over before he answered.

 “Project Hulk.” He said and you gasped.

 “You were trying to hurt The Hulk? Why? He’s a hero isn’t he? Or isn’t he? Is there something I should know?” You asked, leaning in.

 “Bruce banner is a menace, but no. Project Hulk was designed to try and recreate the Hulk. The Hulk is important, do you understand me? But your father shut the project down. Probably because Hydra asked him to. You’re not Hydra though sweetheart, you’re better than him. How would you like to help your Uncle change the world?” He asked.

 You almost rolled your eyes at his blatant attempt to manipulate you.

 “But what about the risks? Will we be hurting people? Is this even legal?” You asked nervously.

 “The law doesn’t matter anymore, not when something this important is on the line. I’ve spent years trying to unlock the secrets behind The Hulk, I won’t let the law hold me back. I’m secretary of state, I’ll make sure you have everything you need, and are protected. You just let me handle everything. What do you say sweetheart?” he asked.

 “Of course. I trust you, after all, we’re family.” You said.

 You winked at your own reflection in the office window, the hidden camera on your cardigan picking it up.

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

 “Miss King.” Matt greeted you as you walked into the foyer of King Inc.

 “Matt, Foggy. Are you ready for this?” You asked, shaking off your nerves.

 “We’re ready. How did your ‘morning meeting’ go?” Foggy asked with a conspiratorial smirk.

 “My Uncle was very forthcoming.” You told him as the three of you entered the elevator and you hit the button for the top floor.

“Oh look at this, The Avengers just called an emergency press conference.” Foggy said, looking at his phone.

 “Wonder what that’s about?” Matt said with a smirk.

 “I wouldn’t know. I don’t watch the news.” You said, holding back your own smirk as the elevator doors whooshed open.

 Your lawyers flanked you as you walked into the board room and smiled at the six board members.

 “Gentlemen, lady.” You greeted.

 “Miss King. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” They said and you shook everyone’s hands.

 “Especially after the last time we were here.” Mr. Chambers, the COO and temporary Chairman of the board said apologetically.

 “It’s fine, I know we would have been in trouble if anybody had found out about daddy being tied to Hydra. I had to take a step back.” You said.

 “Well at least Alexander did us all the courtesy of dying before his misdeeds came to light Mrs. Coatridge tittered.

 You glared at the vile woman who was the only female on the board.

 “Of course, we are still very sorry for your loss.” She added.

 “Thank you.” You said, nodding at her.

 “Shall we get on with business then?” Chambers suggested.

 “Of course. As you know I have all Daddy’s shares now and well, I don’t really know how to be involved with the company but I don’t want to do anything wrong. Maybe if you all helped me? Just tell me what to say and what to do to keep the company image intact and I’ll do it. I’m going to need your guidance in this, all of you.” You said, innocently looking around at them all.

 They thought you were too stupid to notice the eager and greedy glint in their eyes.

 “Of course my dear, we are all here for you. But King Inc is a family company and it was always intended that you would take up your fathers mantle one day. People like you Miss King, they trust you. You’re a sweet girl, pretty and not at all threatening. That’s a compliment, trust me. The point is, you are the face of this company now and you can take us to the next level.” Chambers said, grasping your hand and squeezing it.

 You resisted the very strong urge to yank your hand away and smash it into his face.

 “The face of the company?” You asked.

 “The CEO. People will respond well to a weapons manufacturer that’s run by a young, attractive red blooded American woman.” Mr. Winston, a man on the left side of the table cut in.

 “I’m not…” You started to say.

 “What he means is you’re going to be our spokesperson, the face people think of when they think of the company. Think of this as a modelling contact dear.” Chambers told you.

 “But isn’t CEO a really big deal?” You asked.

 “Not really, you won’t be doing any of the work don’t worry about that. We’ll handle the business; all you have to do is sign your name where we tell you.” Coatridge said.

 You looked overwhelmed for a moment before you pulled yourself together, taking a deep breath and nodding.

 “As long as my lawyers clear it.” You said.

 “We’ve already checked over all the contracts, gone through them with a fine tooth comb. Everything is in order.” Foggy leaned in to assure you.

 You shook nervously as you signed a small mountain of paperwork, shooting fleeting glances at Chambers for reassurance. When you were done they all stood up to shake your hand again.

 “Congratulations Miss King.” Chambers said jovially.

 “Yes, congratulations Miss King. You are now the CEO and Chairman of the board of King Inc until you retire.” Matt congratulated.

 “Or a majority of the shareholders vote to replace me.” You smirked.

 “I don’t see that happening. You’re going to carry us into a new era of the company. Myself and the other board members have some wonderful ideas for King Inc.” Chambers said.

 “Oh I’m sure you do!” You said with a grin.

 “But I don’t give a damn about ideas and I certainly don’t respect a single one of you enough to listen to your opinions.” You added, dropping the grin and the act.

 You stood tall and faced them down, the mask you had worn for years finally off.

 “My father funneled money from this company into Hydra. Everyone on this board either knew about it and allowed it to happen or they let it happen right under their noses. No matter which you spin it, none of you are people I want running a company, let alone my company.” You said, curling your lip in disgust as you looked them all in the eye, one by one.

 “Being made the CEO doesn’t make this your company.” Mrs. Coatridge said haughtily.

 “No, being the sole majority shareholder does.” You said smugly.

 “Between your father 39% and your 10% you own 49%, not a majority.”

 “Very true. But then there’s also the 10% Secretary Thaddeus Ross signed over to me, which gives me a 59% majority.” You informed them.

 “We still own the other 41%, you don’t have a significant enough majority to push us out and we can and will be a thorn in your side. I’m sorry Miss King, this was an adorable little power grab but you just don’t have what it takes to pull it off.” Mr. Chambers said condescendingly.

 “Mr. Murdock, Mr. Nelson, you’ve read the company charters and contracts. Please read section 12 A Subsection B pertaining to forced reimbursement of shares in the Company Interest contracts.” You said, maintaining eye contact with Mr. Chambers.

 “If a collective of 60% or more of the shareholders vote in favor, shares of the company can be bought back at the price paid at time of acquisition.” Foggy said, his professional demeanor close to cracking but he held his grin back.

 “Over 60%... You appear to have come up short Miss King.” Chambers chuckled and the board all joined in.

 You held your cocky grin and held out your hand to Matt who handed you a familiar manila envelope.

 “2% of shares in the company, purchased on Miss King’s behalf by my law team. That makes 61% percent of the shares collectively forcing you out of this company as allowed by a contract every single one of you signed.” Matt said.

 Every single member of the board’s jaws dropped.

 “Checkmate.” You purred.

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

 The second you walked into the press conference, the reporters surged from their seats and began yelling at you. Bruce held out a hand to help you onto the podium.

 “Sorry I’m late everybody, had a business meeting to attend.” You joked.

 “Miss king, Miss King! Have you heard whether Secretary Ross has been arrested?”

 “Why did you take him down?”

 “Is it true your father was Hydra?”

 “Have you been working with The Avengers?”

 You held your hands up to silence them.

 “Secretary Ross has been brought in for questioning according to my sources. I didn’t take him down, Karen Page did, I just assisted her. My father was Hydra yes and I have been offering my assistance to The Avengers ever since I found out about Project Hulk.” You rattled off with ease.

 “Miss King, what’s going to happen to King Inc?”

 “King Inc no longer exists.” You announced.

 That really riled the vultures up and you could no longer distinguish individual questions through the yelling.

“An hour ago, I was voted CEO and Chairman of the board and as I also hold a significant majority of the shares, soon to be over 94% of them in fact… I’ve made some changes to the company. I’d be happy to tell you about it just as soon as you all sit down and listen politely.” You offered.

 One by one they all settled into their seats and Tony stifled a laugh from behind you. You turned to wink at him but caught Bucky’s eye instead. He was staring at you with awe and heat and you grinned at him. The corner of his lip twitched, and he winked slyly at you. You felt a little warm when you turned back to face the crowd.

 “The prime objectives of the new company will be to use our resources and research to advance medical treatments for all, selling all medicines and treatments at little more than labour cost.” You announced and flashbulbs went off wildly.

 “Secondly… We are entering into a Partnership with Stark Industries and the Maria Stark foundation. King Inc. is now Hercules LLC, a non-profit charity dedicated to helping those who’s lives have been affected by Hydra. We’ll offer medical treatments, re-homing services, protection and legal aid to anyone and everyone in the world who has suffered at the hands of Hydra.

 “Miss King, how will the company still turn profits?” A reporter yelled.

 “We won’t. We’ll make enough to pay our staff and cover our overhead. I’m not in the game to remain a billionaire, in fact… I’m investing my entire personal fortune into this.” You said.

 “Why?”

 “Because I want to help the world, not hurt it. My father has left me a terrible legacy, one I am going to tear down, piece by piece. Speaking of which, that’s all I have time for.” You told them and turned to Bruce.

 “You ready Big guy?” You asked, grinning excitedly.

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

 Your high heels crunched across the gravel as you gazed in victorious satisfaction at the large mansion you had grown up in. This was your father's Castle, your childhood home. The ground quaked beneath you and a large shadow fell across you blocking out the sun. Your lips curled up into a vicious mark.

 “Hulk... Smash.” You told him.

 The incredible Hulk sailed over you and crashed through the roof you threw back your head and laughed with cathartic glee.

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

I am DYING to know what you thought of this chapter. 

@drdorkus  @gravedollie666  @sadsoldat  @bigplantdaddy  @moodyruth  @likes-to-smell-books  @shirukitsune  @inquisitor-selvala  @myfandomlife-blog  @markusstraya  @adeleoctobre  @vajeenparty  @sexyvixen7  @love-nakamura  @buckitybarnes  @littledeadrottinghood  @pinkisokay  @jsmith509  @brownlee-22  @angieptt @thosesexytexasboys  @liveonce-sodoitright  @tarastudiesalot  @spnrvt  @dahkness  @dilaila95  @rororo06  @mizzzpink  @release-the-cathyrchkn  @thefridgeismybestie   @fairislesheets​ @strangersstranger​  @life-wanderer​​  @uuuuuuuuggggghhh​​  @curiositykilledthepepe  @musingpredilection  @boxofteenageideas  @thelostallycat  @demonlover87  @cutie1365  @mcuthemusical  @caroldanvers616  @chipilerendi  @scarlettswxtch  @undiscovered-misunderstood @itsmejessicasstuff @musingsofafangirlblog @hiddles-rose

[lisatelramor]

Black Cat (or a White Elephant)

Every now and then I pull out a DCMK genderbend fic I started in 2012. Probably never going to finish or edit it to be honest. But. Because it took a sidestep and became an AU of an AU partway through (thus why it either needs compatibility editing i can’t be assed to do or made into 2 different things...) I had a few scenes that no longer fit. This is one of them, so the genderbending is kind of a side note. Also in this AU Kaito and Saguru started forming a sort of tentative friendship sooner than later. 

***

Kaito poked the box with her toe. The creature in it growled and thumped around the plastic interior. Kaito pulled out her cell phone. It was answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Did you mail me a kitten?” Coughing and sputtering came from the other end of the phone conversation.

“…What?”

“Did you mail me a kitten?” The cat in the box was quiet again. Too quiet.

“Why would you think I sent you a kitten?” Hakuba sounded like she swallowed a sip of tea wrong.

Kaito squatted down to the box’s label. “I just signed off on an air-mailed package from Europe. A package containing a cat.”

“And you thought I sent it?”

“Well…” Not really, no. She couldn’t see Hakuba sending anything other than the occasional letters from halfway across the world, and certainly not something like a cat. “It was kind of a stretch, but I don’t really know anyone…from…Europe. Huh.” Kaito peeked through the hole in the box. Black fur.

“I take it you figured out your mystery cat mailer?” Hakuba’s dry tone was something Kaito found herself missing.  She could go without the superior attitude it often accompanied, but Hakuba could be a wonderful straight-man to Kaito’s goofiness if she’d play along.

“I think I might have an idea.” She did know one other person in Europe. And Chat Noir was probably the only person who would think to send Kaito a black cat.

“Does it have a name?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t opened the box yet.”

“Great, call it Schrodinger.”

Kaito snorted. “I’m not naming a cat Schrodinger. And I’m pretty certain the cat in there is alive since it was growling at me just a minute ago. Besides, that’s a mouthful.”

“Then shorten it to Schrodi. Or Ding.” It sounded like Hakuba was holding back laughter.

“Just a sec.” Kaito opened the cat crate. A black furred body shot out of the opening in a blur of fluffed fur and claws. It hid under the couch glaring at Kaito irritably. It probably blamed her for the nasty cross-continental trip. Taped inside the crate was a short letter. “Her name’s Estelle and she’s supposed to keep me company.”

“Does this person realize you have enough doves to supply wedding halls with complimentary flights across the chapel?”

“Probably not.” Hmm, a cat and doves. This wouldn’t turn out well would it? The cat growled from under the couch. “Well I can’t ship it back to Europe.”

“Keep it on a trial basis,” Hakuba advised. “If it gets into trouble, Aoshi seems like the type who would like a pet.”

“Good idea.” Kaito crumpled the note and went in search of something a cat could eat. She was pretty sure there was canned chicken in some cupboard. Honestly this could just as easily be a way of messing with her than Chat Noir sending a thoughtful gift.  She would have appreciated some notice at least. “Cats eat chicken, right?”

“And fish.” Kaito flinched, almost dropping the can and her phone. The damn f-word. “I wish you luck as the new, proud owner of a cat.”

“I’ll let you know if it lasts the week.” She set the dish of canned chicken in the center of the living room and retreated to a chair on the opposite side of the room as the cat. “Thanks for not being the one sending me a cat.”

“I can safely say that I will never be the person air mailing you a cat, Kuroba.” Hakuba was surely smiling on the other end. “I should be able to visit Japan in the future. This is your fair warning.”

“I’m not KID,” Kaito said automatically. It was practically a scripted part of their conversations by now. “But it will be good to catch up. I’ll pass along the news to Aoshi.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll get to meet Watson.”

“Can you get a European sparrow-hawk through customs?”

“With the right papers you can get just about anything through customs.”

“True.” The cat stuck her head out from under the couch. Her ears flicked back and forth in Kaito’s direction in time with her voice. Paw-step by paw-step, she crept until she reached the bowl in the middle of the room. Her tail twitched. Kaito could see her preparing from a trap. “I’ll see you around, Hakuba.”

“Have a good morning, Kuroba.” The phone disconnected and Kaito closed her phone silently. The cat finally stooped to eat the chicken. It looked like this would be a long process to get it to trust her. Thankfully Kaito was a patient person when it came to animals. She’d just have to keep the doves far away from dangerous kitty claws. “Hey, Estelle,” Kaito murmured. Ears flicked forward, but she kept gulping down the chicken. “What is Chat Noir thinking sending you, kitty cat?” Estelle growled. It was going to be a very long process.

*o*o*o*o*

“Allô? C'est de la part de qui?”

“Ms. Jones?” Kaito purred in her best Kid voice. “Just calling to inform you that your gift might not live until her adult fur grows in.”

“Kaitou Kid,” Chat Noir said, sounding pleased. “So you received Estelle.”

“Yes.” Kaito glared at the cat currently trapped under a laundry basket. It was alternating between batting at a feather and glaring at her with big, yellow eyes. “I don’t think we’ve hit it off.”

Chat Noir laughed. “Cats are picky. Friendship is something that must be earned.”

“Well she isn’t really helping me like her.” Kaito shifted her phone to the other ear so that she could better soothe the dove on her forearm. Poor Karui was missing feathers from her tail and still shaking an hour after Kaito found her trying and failing to escape the cat. “She tried to eat my doves.”

“You keep birds?” There was a sigh from the other end. “No, no, of course you keep birds. You are self-proclaimed a magician-thief. You have kept them separate; you would not be so foolish as to let a cat into the roost, so to speak.”

“Of course, I’m not stupid.” Kaito skritched at Karui’s feathers along her head and neck like she enjoyed. The trembling became soft coos of contentment. “Accidents, however, happen and I can’t watch her all the time.” The cat in the basket chose that moment to meow loudly and authoritatively, like it could convince Kaito to let it out. She scowled at it. “The cat likes my neighbor for some reason. She climbs onto his shoulder and everything.”

“Does this neighbor like Estelle?”

“Terribly.” Estelle meowed again. Karui ruffled her feathers and shuffled higher along Kaito’s shoulder.

“Give her a bit more time. If she remains a nuisance, your neighbor would be a good home.” Chat Noir sounded amused. She probably was enjoying one-upping Kaito in some way even if it was in the form of a gift-turned-irritant.

“Fine. I wanted to be sure that there would be no hard feelings if this were the case.” Kaito transferred Karui to the perch she kept in her room for when she trained her doves. Karui scooted to her favorite place by the edge that was scored with hundreds of claw indentations from generations of doves. Kaito squatted to look at the cat. Surprisingly, Estelle didn’t hiss.

“None at all,” Chat Noir said. “She was sent with good intentions. I am glad to hear that you have companions of the human sort.” There was almost a question in her tone. Kaito frowned.

“He doesn’t know. I have friends who do, so please butt out.”

“Territorial, no?” Chat Noir was definitely laughing on her end of the phone. “Do I count among these friends, Petite Phantom?”

Kaito snorted and stuck out a hand for Estelle to sniff.  The kitten sneezed. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She was still annoyed that Chat Noir knew where to send the package. Kaito would have to respond in kind… Although knowing her phone number probably was equally invasive for people who liked their private lives to remain private. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.” Estelle licked Kaito’s fingers before biting her pinky with needle teeth. Kaito winced. Thankfully she couldn’t bite too hard since she was still a kitten.

“Then I wish you luck with this…male friend.” She was grinning and Kaito was going to send her something nasty. Maybe a package that spat blue dye onto everything the moment it was opened. Or combining it with a glitter bomb. She would find glitter in places for years.

“It’s not like that, and thanks anyway.” Estelle was licking her hand again, but she was keeping her teeth to herself. Aoshi was going to love his new kitten. Love. And Kaito would gladly send the cat-toys, litter, food, and water dishes with her. “A pleasant day to you.”

“And to you, Kuroba-chan.”

Kaito winced. “Please don’t.” Chat Noir laughed and Kaito hung up the phone. It was probably a waste of an international phone call. At least she knew that the cat hadn’t been sent just to harass her. She was sure there was a little bit of harassment involved though. Chat Noir seemed intent on fitting into some kind of older sister role. It was annoying. Kaito could take care of herself and she certainly didn’t want anyone meddling. But Chat Noir wasn’t too bad. Kaito had wanted someone for cross dressing tips after all. Estelle bit Kaito’s finger again. She glared at the innocent, wide yellow eyes.

“You. You are going to live with Aoshi.”

Estelle purred low in her throat, rubbing against Kaito and the laundry basket. There would be fur stuck to the plastic next time Kaito went to use it.

“Don’t play cute. You just want out so you can murder my pretty birdies.” She was too much of a softie if a bit of purring and rubbing earned her forgiveness. Estelle mewed and butted her head against Kaito’s fingers, rubbing her whole body along them. “That counts as bribery. You’re not winning any points.” The kitten made a churring sound deep in her throat. Kaito sighed. “Fine. But far from Karui. You almost scared her to death.”

She lifted off the basket and scooped the ball of fluff into her arms. Pinpricks of claws immediately dug into her chest and forearm. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Kaito scratched the fuzzy triangular ears and the kitten purred even as she tried to eat a button on Kaito’s shirt. “I’m sure Aoshi will spoil you rotten.” The kitten went back to the living room where she was supposed to be and Kaito closed her door firmly with Karui safe inside. The dovecot was closed for the night as well and not even a particularly intrepid cat would get in or out of there tonight. She’d talk to Aoshi in the morning. He’d probably even hug her for it. That was one upshot of an unwanted cat. And Hakuba would laugh her head off when she told her… internally. Kaito couldn’t really see Hakuba laughing hard out loud for anything short of Kaitou Kid doing something both embarrassing and entrapping. And even then it would be smug. Actually, screw Hakuba. Kaito wasn’t telling her anything. Estelle, after a day of mischief, was finally asleep.

[ichaisme]

Ink Demonth Day 9: Fave Ship

I don’t really have a fave, you just put me in front of a ship and I’ll make it work. HOWEVER, that just means I go super extra and write what has essentially amounted to Tom x Happiness with some Tom x Allison on the side, ala @a-rae-of-sunshine and her wonderful HEA AU. I... really hope I’m not too horribly OOC with this songfic.

The first time he heard the song was entirely by accident. He didn’t like having the radio on when he was trying to concentrate, and the ‘new music’ of the modern day he didn’t quite understand.

Oh no, not now

His ears perked up a bit at the voice. Okay, well… this was a little different. He could accept the song for now. Subtly, as the piano tittered a cheery yet slightly melancholy tune, he turned down the volume on the TV.

Please not now I just settled into the glass half empty Made myself at home

Speaking of glasses… His gaze dropped to his bottle, a few dregs short of empty itself. He downed it and went to the kitchen for another. Allison was already there, cooking. He could hear her humming a little tune of her own, blissfully unaware of the clash and lost in that beautiful mind of hers. He’d take her humming over any music this world could come up with, past or present.

And so why now

In an instant, things changed. The noise of the TV vanished. Allison… oh for the love of all he considered sacred, there she was. He saw her as he remembered her, no horns and all awash in color. His eyes widened, staring at her back as she faced a pot on the stove. He hesitantly reached out, only to wince and stop. A gloved hand. Even in his memories he couldn’t let himself have this…

She started to turn. He tensed.

Please not now

‘Don’t ruin this’, he begged his mind. Not this. All he had was this.

I just stopped believing in happy endings Harbors of my own

He waited for the memory to end, for her to flinch, to have to see another reminder of the past being dead and gone and impossible to fix.

But you had to come along didn't you

She did none of those things. He saw the smile that made his heart melt, quiet excitement in her eyes. Confident steps, a kiss to the side of his snout (which used to be the corner of his mouth, little teasing invitations he adored and so sorely missed), she took his hand in both of hers (it used to be both) and pulled him to the stove. Her lips moved, but he heard no words.

He didn’t need words.

She was showing him what she was working on. He’d scoff, taste, praise what she was doing, maybe get another kiss before grabbing what he wanted and leaving. The memory was so right… and yet strikingly different.

Tear down the doors, Throw open windows Oh if you knew just what a fool you have made me

They both knew this would never be. Allison didn’t remember the time before her death. The time during they wanted nothing to do with. Through all of it he stood by her side—a grumpy friend, a silent love, an invisible bond that withstood time, amnesia, even death itself.

So what do I do with this?

“Tom?”

He snapped out of his mind. Allison, his Allison, watched him worriedly.

This stray Italian greyhound These inconvenient fireworks This ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought

He was leaning heavily into the wall, depending on it to keep himself upright. But when she started to approach, he pushed himself up, waving his arm placatingly. He was fine. Fine. Overwhelmed by the depth of his love for her, how little he could return, and now… whatever his mind was trying to tell him with this memory and this song. But he could easily move past this.

God I just want to lay down These colors make my eyes hurt

…Not a bad idea.

He reached for the notepad attached to what was left of his other arm (and oh, if he could move past the phantom ache of her hand in his, that would be GREAT). One word was all he needed: Nap.

She smiled softly, and his heart melted that much more. “I’ll get you when dinner is ready, alright?” He nodded.

As he trudged up, trying to quiet his racing thoughts, he spotted Henry on his way down with Bendy in tow. He raised the notepad before he could be questioned. Bendy gave him a happy wave, and Henry a pat on the shoulder. “Sleep well.”

This feeling calls for everything that I am

Despite his best efforts, he glanced in the mirror as he passed the bathroom. He grimaced.

Not.

--

The second time he heard the song, he was more prepared. Allison was out. Henry and Bendy were playing cards. He was in his shed. It started off so soft, so distant, likely trickling out the open back door from the house.

I'm not that kind

He almost wondered if the song didn’t really exist. A new way to mock his mental anguish.

I'm so good at shooting down any notion This tired world could change It's all been bought

He huffed and slammed the tool he was holding back onto the bench. Yes, he really felt mocked. He marched back to the house, but paused a moment in the window. They still played cards. Bendy appeared to be losing, if the playfully angry expression was any indication. He threw all his cards into the air. Henry managed to grab a few as they fell, but the rest simply scattered all around him. Just as playfully, he ‘lectured’ the little demon. Then he spotted him, and offered a kind smile and a wave.

Or at least that was my line

Slowly, he raised his hand back, feigning casualness until they returned to their game. A low huff of breath escaped him.

No use in spending all that emotion When there's someone else to blame

He couldn’t help but let his gaze flit towards the little demon. Only the demon… wasn’t so little anymore. He stood tall and lanky in his old form, looming over Henry… unlike his times of stress, there was no emotion to the change, he just… stood. Mockingly, so close to his dad yet…

Looking directly at him.

Fear sunk into his veins like ice as he suddenly backed up, but the moment he blinked that monstrous form disappeared, leaving Bendy in the same place he began.

But you had to come along didn't you

He gripped his chest, trying to will himself calm by sheer effort alone. If this was another memory, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to think back on the studio, back on any of that!

Another blink.

Back at the studio.

Back at the Ink Machine.

Rev up the crowd Rewrite the rule book

He looked to his side, watching Allison wait with bated breath, heard her cry out Henry’s name, and a sick feeling came over him. This isn’t like when he remembered his past with Allison. No, here… here he had no control.

It’s otherworldly. He can feel his confusion, his anger, his fear rolling off him in waves, but he’s helpless to stop himself, can only scream with no voice to wait, to LISTEN, for ONCE. Of course he doesn’t hear. The feelings seem to meld together. ‘NO, STOP!’ one yells, even while the other side insists that this is wrong, the Ink Demon hasn’t changed, will never change.

A third thought, quieter than the others, emerges. When did his views change?

Where do I go when every 'no' turns into 'maybe'

He leaves the dream with a gasp as his fist connects with Henry’s back.

“Tom?!”

The former animator is staring at him, eyes wide with concern as he trembles where he stands. He spots Bendy just behind him, worry also on his face. Of all the things he didn’t want to talk about, especially around the little demon, song-triggered memories topped it. He fixed a frown to his face and made a ‘move’ motion. They parted, and he retreated to his room.

So what do I do with this? This sudden burst of sunlight And me with my umbrella Cross-indexing every weatherman's report

They planned and planned until they’d imagined every possible scenario (or so they thought). Tom wanted a body? He’d have to risk everything for it.

I was ready for the down slide

‘Just once’, he begged his thoughts, ‘do what you’re told’.

And just this once… blessed silence. No racing thoughts, no anger, no fear. For that split second, he was still, body and mind.

Then came the blade.

He was still once more.

But not for spring to well up

…Alive. That was certainly a start. Allison’s comment wasn’t exactly reassuring, but as Henry helped him clear off the ink covering his person, he realized… her tone wasn’t disappointed. No, it was awe. As he stared at his hand, maybe not fully human but human-shaped and distinctly his, he couldn’t care less about petty semantics. He slowly curled the hand into a fist. They wouldn’t begrudge him any tears.

This feeling calls for everything I can't afford To know Is possible now

They waited for Bendy to wake up together, silence settled over them like a blanket. While the other two occupied themselves, Tom occupied himself with them.

Allison, the love of his life and beyond. She who stuck with him through thick and thin, who didn’t balk at their connection, whose smile lit up the room, who loved to give Bendy ideas and ways to improve his pranking skills.

Henry, who helped them escape the studio in the first place, who drew him the body whose form he now inhabited, who provided a calm foil to his quick temper. Henry, who had a terrible sense of humor but said with so much sincerity you could mistake it for being funny.

Finally…

Bendy.

Bendy who was the source of so much pain. Bendy who, much as he hesitated to admit it, had done nothing worse than harmless but annoying pranks since leaving the studio. Bendy who was consistent in his attempts to be kind. Bendy who gave up so much ink for him. Bendy… who he maybe needed to be kinder to. Allison seemed to know his thoughts, giving him a knowing smile and a nod when he glanced her way.

What do I do With a love that won’t sit still Won't do what it's told

They’d been through hell and come out the other side, world-weary, tired, and worse for wear, but still alive and kicking. Slowly but surely, things were improving.

Maybe.

Maybe he could believe in that Happily Ever After.

What do I do With a love that won't sit still

[welllpthisishappening]

Oh can you do a boxing fic? Please! I can picture a sweaty Killian boxing and showing off for his girl and a bunch of pre and post boxing celebratory kisses?!

HELLO ANON, THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR WEEKS AND I AM SORRY FOR THAT. AS REPAYMENT, HERE ARE QUITE A NUMBER OF WORDS WHERE EMMA AND KILLIAN’S FRIENDS TOTALLY WANT EMMA AND KILLIAN TO DATE, BUT EMMA AND KILLIAN CAN’T BELIEVE THEIR FRIENDS HAVEN’T NOTICED THEY ALREADY ARE. JUST LIKE...WITH BOXING. 

Also on Ao3 because this also got pretty long. I don’t know, guys. 

The hospital lights are giving her a headache.

They’re bright and abrasive and everything smells like disinfectant, which, honestly Emma figures is probably a good sign regarding the cleanliness of this hospital, but she’s far too worried about everything else to be worried about that.

She’s not even sure if she’s supposed to be worried about that.

This was not part of the plan.

At all.

There was no plan.

At all.

“We should be back there,” David hisses, not for the first time and it’s an absolutely horrible attempt at keeping his voice down.

Emma licks her lips, ignoring Mary Margaret’s furtive glances. Mary Margaret keeps glancing at her. Emma’s tongue is going to dry out.

That’s the single worst thing she’s ever thought.

“We can’t get back there yet,” Ariel says reasonably, slumped in one of the waiting room chairs with her legs stretched out in front of her. She mutters a rather pointed curse under her breath when Will nearly trips over her feet. “Well, watch where you’re going then.”

“I didn’t actually say anything,” Will points out. “And the Detective is right. We should—“

“—We can’t. You know that. David knows that. They’re doing tests or making sure he’s not concussed or whatever.”

“He’s definitely concussed,” David mumbles, and Emma’s stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch. Mary Margaret is still staring at her.

Ariel, somehow, slumps even further down. It ends with her kicking Will in the the ankle, a growl on his lips and he’s a blur of movement and Jones-branded clothing, ducking down to grab her legs and swing them over his when he sits down. “Don’t move,” he commands, but the words ring a little hollow when it’s clear how worried he is.

It’s definitely a concussion. At best. Or worst. Emma has lost her grip on the English language.

Ariel sticks her tongue out. “Do you think we should call someone?”

“Like who?”

“Everyone he knows is here,” David chuckles, drifting closer to Mary Margaret like there are magnets involved. Or love. Definitely love. “It’s—well, if we were he's emergency contact, we would have gotten called already. Right?”

Will shrugs. “He’s been in there for awhile.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Emma hasn’t really been paying attention, far too preoccupied with the less-than-encouraging placement of her stomach in regards to the rest of her internal organs and how much she absolutely hates the lighting in that hospital, wondering if her worry is too big or too meaningful, and she’s so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost doesn’t notice her phone ringing in her pocket.

It doesn’t matter. Her friends do. Loudly.

“Em,” Mary Margaret says, nodding towards the buzz lingering around Emma’s right thigh. “You’re…your phone is ringing.”

She must nod. She’s sure she nods. She hopes she nods. She does, at least, tug her phone out of her pocket, arm heavy when she pulls the stupid, still-ringing piece of technology to her ear and Emma’s voice scratches its way out of her throat.

It’s more abrasive than the hospital lighting.

“Hello?”

Her voice shakes. It’s the worst.

“Emma Swan?”

“Yuh huh.”

“This is Belle French from NYC Health and Hospitals in Coney Island. I’m calling because Killian Jones listed you as his emergency contact. Unfortunately I have to tell you that Mr. Jones has been admitted here after sustaining some injuries during his fight and—“

“—Is he concussed?” Emma interrupts, well aware of the four sets of matching and equally wide eyes that stare at her. Ariel curses when Will grips her legs too tightly.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that over the phone, but if you’d be able to—“

“—I’m here.” Emma should stop interrupting Belle French. It’s rude. “Um, sorry. I’m just—well, I’m standing in the waiting room. Currently.”

“Oh,” Belle says, a note of genuine surprise there and Emma can’t blame her. It’s reflected on each of her friend’s faces as well. “Well, that’s…efficient.”

“Yeah, that’s me for sure. Does this mean I can come back there?”

“Can we go back there?” Will asks sharply, Emma waving him off.

Belle makes a noise on the other end of the phone. “Give us a few more moments. The doctor is still with Mr. Jones, but I’m sure he’ll want to see you soon.”

“The doctor?”

“Mr. Jones. He’s been asking for you.”

Emma’s stomach flies into her throat. “Ok,” she says, quieter than she wants and more emotional than she probably should be, but the punch had landed and she’d definitely gasped and—“Ok,” she repeats. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.”

The phone feels impossibly heavy in Emma’s hand, weighing her down and somehow making her head ache even more. They’re all still looking at her. Mary Margaret’s shoes squeak when she takes a step forward.

It was raining out.

Figures.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says, stretching her name out into an impossibly long string of syllables. “What’s going on?”

**

“Ariel, listen, I don’t care how much you think we’ll get along, I don’t want—“

“—I have no idea if you’re actually going to get along. I’m cautiously optimistic and I just think it could be interesting.”

Emma glares, eyes thin enough that it’s difficult to make out the self-satisfied smile on Ariel’s face. “I’m not interested in being your science experiment either.”

“That’s not what this is,” Mary Margaret promises, but that’s exactly what it is because this is far from the first time something like this has happened.

“Gimme that.” Emma leans forward, grabbing whatever it was Mary Margaret had been drinking and the alcohol stings the back of her throat. “What is this guy’s name? And, like, his life story?”

“I promise it’s far more interesting than you’re expecting.”

Emma spins on the spot – nearly falling off the stool in the process and her eyes widen. He grins at her.

That’s the first thing she notices.

It’s calm and easy, a quiet sense of self confidence that’s attractive and a little disarming and he steps into her space almost immediately.

She doesn’t move. That may be a first.

“That so?” Emma asks, doing her best to stay casual when it feels like her heart is about to beat its way out of her chest.

The smile widens. And his hair drifts towards his brows when he nods. “Decidedly.”

“Huh.”

“That’s not quite the rapt audience I was hoping for.”

Emma chuckles, downing the rest of a drink that isn’t hers. “I guess you’re just going to have to win me over or something.”

He does – although she certainly makes him work for it. His name is Killian Jones, freshly moved to New York a few weeks earlier. He’s a boxer.

“Is that still allowed?” Emma asks, drifting towards the edge of her stool. She keeps doing that, flinching when she realizes she’s about to fall over again, and she’s got a sneaky suspicion it’s because she’s trying to get closer to Killian, but that’s a great, big thought in a great, big moment and Ariel is going to be insufferable if she realizes this set-up worked.

It might have worked.

Definitely.

“Otherwise this has been a very long con,” Killian drawls over the top of his own glass. “That would be disappointing after I signed a lease.”

“A full year?” He hums. “Yeah, I doubt you could get out of that.”

“Exactly. And why fight that when I’m so interested in several other fights?”

“That was funny.”

Killian beams. “It happens from time to time. And what do you do, Swan?”

She tells him – NYPD with David, some childhood dream of doing good and “to serve and protect, right?” he asks with a quirk of his eyebrows that seems to almost immediately brand itself on every inch of her brain. It’s how she met Mary Margaret and, by extension, Ariel, both teachers at the same public school and they’re a group and maybe a family and he tells her things right back.

He’s been fighting for years, “stumbled into it by accident, honestly” after joining the Navy at eighteen and “New York’s always been the goal, or so my manager will tell you.”

His manager’s name is Will Scarlet. He lives in the same building with the year-long lease.

They talk. They drink. They get irrationally competitive about trivia at the bar.

“That is just fundamentally wrong,” Emma shouts, leaning across the table they’ve commandeered in the corner. "Midichlorians aren’t an actual energy field!”

Killian shakes his head. “The Force is an energy field. Obi-Wan says so!”

“Oh my God,” Ariel grumbles, dropping her head onto her forearms like this is embarrassing. It kind of is. People are murmuring.

“Midichlorians are inside humans,” Emma argues. She doesn’t remember standing up. And Killian’s whatever, it’s a smirk, it’s totally a smirk, is very distracting. “That’s how they measure it in Anakin.”

“Are you counting the Phantom Menace as canon?”

“How are you not?”

“Because that’s just fundamentally wrong, Swan.”

“It’s a movie! It’s part of the lore!”

“Are we still talking about this one trivia question?” Mary Margaret asks, making a face when both Emma and Killian snap yes in tandem.

Killian’s mouth twists, which only proves how much Emma is staring at his mouth. “The existence of midichlorians directly contradictions the explanation of the Force in the original trilogy,” he grumbles. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“You sound like an internet fan boy,” Emma accuses. “And that was not the question. The question was just ‘what are midichlorians.’ The answer is human cells in a human person—“

“—What about Jedi that aren’t humans? Are you suggesting Yoda is secretly a human?”

“Oh my God.”

The smirk is back. And they’ve officially run out of time to answer the question.

“You guys are banned from trivia,” David announces, hours later after more vaguely petty arguments and far too much alcohol when Emma has to be at the station at ten tomorrow morning.

She rolls her eyes. “Somehow I think I’ll survive.”

“Yeah, tell me that when you’re upset at missing out on our inevitable glory next week.”

Emma makes a noise in the back of her throat, shrugging into her jacket and Killian’s lingering in her space, that same quiet presence that’s laced with a hint of something she hopes matches up with hers.

“You want to get some coffee or something?” he asks, as soon as everyone else is out of range.

“Yeah, ok.”

She’s nearly twenty minutes late to her shift the next day, the ends of her hair still damp from a shower that isn’t hers and David smiles as soon she drops into her chair.

***

They have every intention of telling their friends. Really. They do.

It just…never comes up.

And both Ariel and Mary Margaret are already in mourning for another set-up that “clearly didn’t work” as soon as Emma walks into the coffee place two blocks away from school.

“I really thought you guys would hit it off,” Ariel shrugs, tugging apart a croissant with a bit more force than necessary. “I didn’t factor in your mutual nerd’ness.”

Emma arches an eyebrow. “Is that an insult?”

“Didn’t it sound that way?”

“She means she thought you would have been able to bond over that, instead of argue over it,” Mary Margaret corrects.

Ariel shakes her head. “No, I did not.”

“I know you didn’t,” Emma promises. There’s not enough sugar in her coffee. “I should probably be more offended by that, right?”

Ariels shrugs again. “Depends on what you say to this, I guess.”

“This being?”

Her phone dings. She typed her number in his phone herself. After he made her breakfast.

He made her breakfast.

“How often Killian will probably be around,” Ariel continues, eyes flitting nervously towards Mary Margaret.

The word ewok was never actually said in the original trilogy.

I think that’s a lie.

Nope, not once. Only in the credits.

I really don’t believe you at all.

Well, that’s disheartening, but it just means one thing.

Which is?

We’ve got to watch the original trilogy now. And you can tell me how much more I know about the Star Wars universe than you do.

Emma nearly spits out her coffee. Ariel’s breath catches, which kind of makes Emma feel guilty, but her friends area also making assumptions and setting her up and—

Her phone makes more noise

What do you say, Swan? Is it a date?

“Em,” Ariel prompts. “Is that—I mean, he doesn’t really know anyone else and he’s got a fight in a couple of weeks. I know, well, he isn’t normal and some sci-fi know-it-all…”

“It’s fine” Emma promises. “And technically Star Wars is really more epic fantasy, just set in space. So, you know…”

Yeah. It’s a date.

***

“That is distracting.”

“Hmm, that might be the point.”

Killian doesn’t look away from the tablet in his hand, film he’s supposed to be watching in prep for tomorrow’s bought. Emma’s pretty sure that’s the technical term. She’s learned some of the technical terms.

“Might be?” he echoes. He shifts when she drags her lips across the curve of his jaw, tracing a line of stubble that regularly and consistently distracts her when she thinks about it too much.

“Pleading the fifth.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, love.”

It’s not the first time he’s called her that – it’s a thing, she’s come to realize, like watching film of some boxer from Alabama he’s totally going to knock out tomorrow night – but it never fails to make her pulse beat a little more erratically than usual. It’s nice. It’s good. It’s great, even.

It’s still a goddamn secret.

“Should he be jumping around that much?” Emma asks, nodding at the fighter on the screen when he dodges an uppercut.

“He’s not jumping, Swan. He’s making a move.”

“And the move is?”

“To not get hit.”

“Seems kind of strange in a sport so devoted to hitting.”

Killian laughs, tugging her closer to his side until Emma doesn’t have any choice except to swing her legs over his. Or so she tells herself. They should tell someone. Eventually.

It’s kind of become something of a game though, wondering how long it will take their friends to realize that Emma and Killian keep spending the majority of their free time together.

“Boxing is not devoted to hitting,” Killian argues. He’s moving his hand again, fingers drawing absent-minded patterns across Emma’s back and in between her shoulder blades, carding through the ends of her hair.

“I really don’t know if you’re doing it right then.”

“That’s not what I said at all. I’m going to try and hit Chafur tomorrow, but it’s a lot more than brute strength.”

“So says you.”

“It is,” Killian promises, but his voice gets a little strained and decidedly distracted and it might have to do with whatever Emma’s doing just behind his right ear. “Swan, I can’t think when you do that.”

“That is the point. How many rounds you think you’re going to go?”

“No more than five.”

She lets out a low whistle. “That’s awfully confident.”

“You watching this guy? His whole game is to dodge. No attack in him at all.”

“And you think you’re going to do that? Attack?”

Killian nods, brushing a kiss to the top of her hair. “Several very impressive newspaper articles would inform you that I tend to do that quite often in the ring.”

“Newspapers are a dying industry.”

It gets him to laugh again. “Fair,” he agrees. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m going in with a plan, love. I’m going to—“

“—Attack?”

She leans back, only a little frustrated because she’s more than a little worried and they might not have told anyone, but Killian has done a fairly admirable job of working his way into the very center of her life very quickly.

A well-calculated attack. But with less punches. And more…kisses. And not really the word attack.

So, nothing like that at all.

“Mary Margaret texted me today,” Killian says, not at all what Emma expects. She blinks. “She’s uh—she asked if she could get another comp ticket to the match.”

“Is it match or bought?”

“Interchangeable. You don’t want to know why?”

Emma shakes her head. Because she knows why. “Is she a teacher too?”

“Yeah,” Killian nods. “Her name’s Aurora. And she’s very nice. And apparently likes to wear cardigans to school. And Mary Margaret thinks it’d be a good step to—“

“—To?”

“Not be hung up on you so much anymore.”

Emma’s jaw drops. She expected that even less. Killian’s whole body shakes when he laughs, a quick kiss pressed to her cheek and another to the edge of her mouth. “Are you?” she asks, barely able to get the words out before Killian finally lands on her actual mouth and she hopes they don’t ruin the tablet.

That would annoy Will.

“Hung up on you?”

Emma makes a noise, not quite the confident, vaguely-flirty one she wanted, but it gets Killian to smile and his eyes to do that flashy thing they do when he stares at her a very particular way and if this is an attack, she’s more than willing to lower her fortifications or however the metaphor should work. Something about blocking, she’s sure.

“Absolutely,” Killian says, but it’s drifting closer to a growl and they don’t watch much more of the film.

***

Aurora is nice. And perceptive. Incredibly perceptive.

It only takes one gasp out of Emma in the third round for her to realize.

“Are you dating him?”

Emma’s eyes bug. That’s kind of an answer. It’s definitely an answer. “Yeah,” she breathes. “For, like…weeks.”

“And your friends don’t know that?”

“Yeah I’m not really sure how that happened.”

Aurora scoffs, but it almost sounds amused. “I’m actually kind of glad. He didn’t seem very interested in saying many things to me before he—what would you call it? Get on stage?”

“In the ring.”

“Ah, see you know.”

Emma’s stomach flips. And flops. “Yeah, I do.”

He wins in four rounds, arm flung into the air by a referee and there’s a smile on his face when his eyes scan the crowd. Aurora laughs again.

And Killian winks as soon as his gaze lands on Emma.

She waits until their friends have moved – Mary Margaret apologizing to Aurora because this set-up didn’t work either – taking a step into Killian’s space. He hasn’t actually put a shirt on yet, a belt hanging over his shoulder.

“You want to make fun of Phantom Menace with me later?”

He barks out a laugh, smile wide and bright and Emma nearly yelps when he all but yanks her against his chest, kissing her hard and heady and it’s so goddamn right, she can’t believe they haven’t shouted it from several rooftops yet.

The Empire State Building was, like, built for feelings like this.

“I’d love that,” Killian says against her mouth. “Give me some to talk to that dying industry, ok?”

“Yeah, ok.”

They barely make it past Naboo before they’re kissing on his couch and taking clothes off and Emma smiles when she pads into the bathroom hours later to find bottles of her shampoo sitting in the shower.

She doesn’t go home that night.

***

“Emma has a boyfriend.”

Several people nearly choke on several different types of alcohol and Ruby looks especially smug at the table that should probably have their name on it now. It’s trivia night.

Emma and Killian have already argued about Harry Potter on three different occasions.

“What?” David balks, gaping at Emma like she’s a totally different person. “Since when?”

Ruby shrugs. “For awhile now, I think.”

“You think,” Emma says. It takes everything in her to keep her voice steady, Killian’s hand drifting over her thigh under the table.

“You’ve been spending less and less time at home. You’re never around. I’m not a cop, but I think I can put two and two together.”

“But Emma doesn’t know anyone,” Mary Margaret objects, mouth dropping when she realizes what she’s said. Killian squeezes Emma’s thigh. “Ok, that’s not what I meant,” Mary Margaret continues. “I just—“

“What’s his name?” Ariel cuts in. “It’s a he, right?”

Emma nods. Killian’s fingers are tapping out a rhythm against her leg now.

“Is it serious?” David presses. “You wouldn’t stay at some guy’s apartment if it wasn’t serious.”

Emma’s pulse speeds up. Or maybe slows down. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel very human.

“Looks serious,” Will mumbles over the top of his glass. His eyes flit towards Killian, like he’s waiting for the inevitable breakdown. There’s nothing.

“I don’t know,” Ariel objects. “If it were serious, we’d—“

“It’s serious,” Emma says, quick and far too loud and Killian’s hand tightens to a vice-like grip. “It, well—it could be serious. I think.”

He doesn’t move his hand.

“So, uh,” Emma sputters. “I’m going to get some air.”

She doesn’t run out of the bar – which is a metaphorical TKO on the very first punch, but it’s pretty damn close, warmer-than-usual air greeting her on Chambers Street. And she doesn’t want to hope he’ll follow her, but she’s drifting dangerously close to living in hope and he’s got a title defense in a couple of days.

The door slams behind him.

“Serious, huh?” Killian asks, half a smirk and his tongue pressed into the corner of his mouth.

Emma shrugs. “I mean—you bought shampoo.”

“It smells good.”

“Is that weird?”

“That I think your shampoo smells good or that I’d like you to continue smelling good around me for the foreseeable future?”

“Either or.”

“Eh, maybe a little bit of both.” His hands land on her hips when he takes a step forward, close enough that it takes some twisting for Emma to rest her palms on his chest. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I have no idea how they haven’t already. Have we been too subtle?”

“We could start making out in this alley and see if that sticks?”

Emma’s laugh barely has a chance to linger in the air before she’s pushing up on her toes, arms slung around Killian’s neck and that tongue thing he does is almost as potent as his left hook.

“It’s serious,” he whispers, and Emma files that away, covets the words like her own championship belt. And that’s only kind of absurd, but they’ve been secretly dating without even trying and the whole thing is absolutely ridiculous.

“You want to get out of here?”

“Very much so.”

She doesn’t go home that night either.

***

“You’ll be careful, right?”

It’s still early – sun just creeping in through the curtains in Killian’s room, but he’s got a full day of press and pre-match workouts and it takes forever to get from Manhattan to Coney Island in the summer.

“As careful as I can be when someone’s trying to punch me in the face.”

“I thought it was about more than just punching,” Emma says, propping her head on her hand.

Killian grins, flipping his head which only serves to make his hair shift and that’s hardly playing fair at all. “I’m not sure this guy has gotten that particular memo yet, love. Everything Scarlet’s shown me makes it seem like he goes for the kidneys a lot.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“Eh,” Killian says again. “It’ll be fine, Swan. I’ve just got to get to him first.”

“Easy.”

“Well, you’ll be there right? Got to impress.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but they both know he’s right. He’s constantly trying to impress. And she consistently is. “Idiot,” she mumbles anyway, flopping back against his chest when he pulls on her arm. “With ridiculous brute strength.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely my calling card. Heavy-weight champion of the world.”

“In this corner…”

“Getting ready to make out with his girlfriend…”

“Just make out?”

He definitely growls. It’s stupid how attractive it is.

And it’s even more stupid how loudly Emma gasps as soon as the first hit lands – straight to the side of his head and it’s not the kidney punch Will had promised. It’s aggressive and maybe a little evil, quick jabs that land every single time until Killian’s stumbling backwards and the referee is calling for both fighters to return to their corners.

They don’t.

The hits keep coming and landing, each one louder than the last, but that may just be Emma’s pulse pounding in between her ears. Her eyes go dry from staring, breathing turning ragged as she tries to remember how important oxygen is to maintain consciousness.

Killian’s steps falter again, doing his best to keep his hands lifted by his ears. It doesn’t work. The guy Emma can’t remember the name of keeps swinging and hitting and the bell rings as soon as Killian’s knees crash onto the ring floor.

She gasps again.

And David curses. Loudly. Mary Margaret might be crying. Ariel is screaming.

“C’mon,” David says, wrapping his fingers around Emma’s and tugging her towards the hallway they left before the spot, reserved for friends and family. She assumes secret girlfriends aren’t included in that.

She doesn’t stumble when she starts to walk.

***

“Em,” Will says, still sitting in chairs that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Who was that?”

Emma swallows before she answers. “The nurse. Belle French.”

“Was her name important?”

“I mean—probably not, but—“

“Ms. Swan?”

She spins on the spot, nearly taking out David in the process and she hadn’t realized he’d moved towards her at some point. The doctor smiles what she assumes is supposed to be a comforting look. “Hi,” Emma mutters. “I’m uh—well, you know who I am.”

The doctor keeps smiling. “I do. And Mr. Jones is out of testing.”

“Is he ok?”

“Concussed, but awake and cognizant and, uh, asking about you. Again.”

Emma’s heart swells. That’s gross. “Can I see him?”

“Can we see him?” Will corrects, hissing when Ariel pinches his side. The doctor nods.

“For a few minutes at least. We’re you planning on staying for some time, Ms. Swan?”

The room is spinning, lights absolutely getting brighter, but Emma feels herself nod again and there wasn’t much of a decision to be made. “Yeah. I’m—I’m not going anyway.”

"Good. Mr. Jones is at the end of the hall.”

She doesn’t run, again, but it’s close, again, feet moving as quickly as her heart and the pounding in her forehead. He’s in bed when she skids to a stop, far too many wires and beeping machines, but his eyes find hers almost immediately and Emma sighs.

Again.

It’s relief that time.

Killian smiles at her. "Not quite my most impressive moment, huh?"

"Ah, I don't know about that."

"Did I fall gracefully?"

"God, I hate you," Emma grumbles, a lie that's worse than anything they haven't told their friends. Killian's lips twitch. "A nurse called me to tell me that you were here. Because I'm your emergency contact."

"Yeah. They, uh—well..." He doesn't finish the thought, doesn't really have to, and Emma's smile feels equal parts unnatural and as normal as breathing. She's only recently just started breathing. “You ok?”

“You’re asking me that?”

“Eh,” Killian shrugs, shifting his arm so he can curl a finger towards her. Emma scowls. “It happened very quickly for me. One knock and it was all over.”

“Yeah, that’s not how I remember it at all.”

“C’mere, love.”

“You’re concussed.”

“Am I? No one’s actually told me that.”

“Killian.”

“Emma.”

She huffs, but it’s not frustration, it’s unspoken everything and the smell of her own shampoo when her hair falls over her shoulder, and taking these few steps forward isn’t much of a decision either.

And, honestly, it’s a miracle no one figured it out before.

So, naturally, the whole lot of them stop in the doorway as soon as Emma sinks onto the edge of Killian’s hospital bed, letting his arm wrap around her when she tilts her head up. To kiss her. With witnesses.

“What the hell is this?” Will shouts, and Ariel’s words are more just general screeching. They’re going to get yelled at by the hospital staff.

Maybe for the kissing.

It can’t be good for Killian’s blood pressure or whatever.

Mary Margaret may still be crying.

“Oh my God, Ruby is going to be so mad she missed this,” David mumbles, working a laugh out of Killian and something resembling a guffaw out of Emma.

“That’s only because you owe her twenty bucks now,” Will says. Emma makes that noise again.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Ok, don’t act offended, you guys were lying to us this whole time. Hey, Hook, glad you’re not dead.”

“He was way more worried than he's acting,” Ariel promises. "It's a defense mechanism."

“Well, I’m also glad I’m not dead, so we’re kind of on even ground,” Killian says. He kisses Emma’s cheek when she turns on him. Mary Margaret definitely sniffles. “And it wasn’t really lying.”

“How you figure?” David asks.

“You guys all thought I was hung up on Emma and, you know, you weren’t really wrong.”

Ariel throws her whole head back when she laughs, leaning back against Will’s chest so she doesn’t fall over. He hooks his chin over her shoulder, studying both Emma and Killian critically.

“Emma said she was dating someone who might have been serious.”

“That kind of sounds like an accusation,” Emma points out.

“It kind of was.”

“Well, it kind of might be.”

“Is,” Killian corrects softly, another kiss that makes Emma shiver slightly.

Mary Margaret wipes her hand under her eye. “Is? As in currently.”

“Yeah,” Emma whispers. She moves again, twisting so her legs on the bed are pressed up against Killian’s and there’s always shampoo in the shower. “Currently.”

“But you didn’t say anything!”

“Trust me, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

“And then it got to be so long it almost would have been weirder if we brought it up,” Killian says. “It was more fun just seeing how long it would take you guys to realize.”

“We weren’t really being secretive about it,” Emma adds. “Trust me, Ruby’s been going on about it for weeks. I haven’t been trying to hide that I’m pretty all in on this.”

She doesn’t mean to say it. But, then again, she didn’t mean to be in a secret relationship for the last four months and she certainly didn’t mean for her friends to find out about said relationship this particular way, so, really, this should not be much of a surprise.

Killian’s incredibly tense body suggests otherwise.

“Swan,” he mutters, Emma’s teeth digging into her lower lip.

She turns slowly, jutting her chin out in something almost close to relationship defiance. But then she sees the look on his face – that same quiet hope from the very first time she saw him mixed with a hint of the hope she’s been clinging to for months and how much she wants and—

“I love you,” she says, before she can lose her nerve. Mary Margaret sniffles again. “Just—I do. And it’s been easy to and simple too, which, is the exact opposite of anything I ever expected from an Ariel and Mary Margaret set-up, but…” Emma exhales. Killian doesn’t blink. “I was so worried about you.”

He doesn’t move away from her when he lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek and there are tears that. That should probably be embarrassing. It’s kind of nice.

And, honestly, she expects the kiss. Is ready for it. Wants it. Quite possibly needs it. But it still manages to make Emma’s stomach twist and her heart leap into her throat and there are several whoops from the peanut gallery.

“I love you,” Killian says, nothing extra, no add-ons or unnecessary punches pulled. Just there. Honest and truthful and in front of everyone. “I’m sorry you were worried.”

“Win the next one and we’ll call it even.”

“God,” David groans. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

Emma shrugs. Killian doesn’t let her turn around. “This is how it’s been the whole time, you guys are just horribly unperceptive.”

“Plus,” Killian says, mostly into Emma’s hair. “You were here for true love declarations, so you know—“

Emma’s stomach is a biological marvel.

“True love, huh?”

“Doubts, Swan?”

“None,” she says, meaning it. Killian beams.

And David groans. Loudly. It’s louder when they tell Ruby, a quick exchange of money that she promises to brag about for the rest of time because I totally knew, but Emma barely pays attention, far too preoccupied with making sure Killian takes all his medicine exactly when Dr. Whale told her he had to.

He doesn’t argue. Much.

He argues less when she kisses him.

She keeps kissing him. In his apartment and her apartment and their apartment because, eventually, it doesn’t make much sense to be buying two bottles of the same shampoo. And, again, when he gets back in the ring, a win that goes the distance and requires a decision that Emma announces is obvious, but takes the judges a small eternity to decide on.

She runs into the ring, but Killian catches her around the waist, kissing her like he’s been waiting the whole match for her to get there.

It’s, well, perfect.

Plus, it’s harder to keep a relationship secret when there are cameras and newspapers documenting the evidence. Emma prints out the picture, hanging it on their fridge the next morning while Killian makes breakfast.

[forgetfulfrost-blog]

Memory Fragments from the Mist: A Walk on Lua

[[ A story drabble to go along with the commissioned art done by @prosperyne / @orokinprince​ found here!!! Please check it out! And give a follow while you’re there~ This is fairly long, but I hope y’all enjoy it~ ^_^ ]]

Rexis wandered the empty and deteriorating halls of Lua again. The seat of power when the Orokin empire thrived was now just the ruins of a glorious past that ended in bloodshed. It was the place where almost all the Tenno slept in cryostasis and dreamed. Where their real bodies had been hidden away in the folds of the Void until Lua reappeared.

The Tenno recalled his time there, having refreshed the memories from his Frost Prime prior to arriving. He had wandered these halls between missions back then. Interacted, and sometimes flirted, with other Tenno around his age. He wasn’t the oldest, but he was one of the eldest compared to countless others much younger than him at the time. He was naturally a leader, if only due to his age, and was often asked to gather and organize information, help assign tasks, and resolve any internal conflicts.

He recalled the typical hangout spots of those he often gave assignments to. He couldn’t quite recall names, but he knew a group that ran spy missions hung out at the corner down to the right and a group that often played go-fish usually sat on the benches to the left. Still others played various games using the table to his right.

The lonely Tenno trailed his fingers along the golden edges of the table as he walked past it. He heard echos from his memories. The boisterous laughter that was desperately needed to keep their spirits up, the hushed conversations and giggling of those that liked to speculate and gossip, the calm conversations of those distracting themselves by analyzing a brand new book.

What had happened to them all? All those familiar faces, the various voices he had come to know by heart, the colorful personalities that added life to these white halls between missions... Aside from the Inva Twins, all the Tenno he interacted with in the present he hadn’t met before. He knew there were countless children on the massive ship that was the Zariman Ten-Zero, but he wondered where those he took care of back then ended up. Had he… misguided them? Was he the reason why they were nowhere to be found? Rexis had the feeling he would never learn the fates of those Tenno.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts before they became a threat to his own stability, he stopped by the door to a large locker room. Noticing and wandering in, he realized he had rediscovered where he and other squadmates kept their personal items. Some lockers had been opened and ransacked while others stood perfectly pristine and locked. He wondered why there was such a difference as he walked in before noticing the signs of an old struggle. He figured whatever happened had stopped whoever was looting things, but the winner must have had no interest in the spoils as various objects were still scattered about. He picked his way through the rubble and headed to where his own locker had stood, curious as to its status.

He found his old locker and stared at the closed container that was both familiar and unique to him yet uniform in appearance to all the others. Running a hand down the front, he was drawn to a past memory.

---

Shortly after Rexis had turned fifteen, he had been “promoted” and reassigned, thus he had to move his stuff from one side of Lua to the other. Whispers surrounded him as the younger Tenno watched him stride through the halls with only a small box of his personal belongings. While many Tenno held onto numerous keepsakes from before their time in the Void, clinging to some semblance of normality, he held onto only the few things that were most important to him. He silently found his new locker and without a word unpacked a few digital-framed pictures, some tools, a couple media storage devices, a small potted plant, and an ornate trinket box.

The whispers got louder when he pulled out the last item as it was something that only those of high status would have. He certainly looked like he could have been royalty with his features and the way he carried himself, but it was a result of his parents having taught him how to properly take care of his body from a young age. That, and having been born to high-class parents, he was trained in proper etiquette for interacting with nobility, which became his default way of acting when it came to people he was unfamiliar with. Some lower-class Tenno liked to tease and bully him as such, calling him “the ice prince” or “as cold as gold”, but as much as it hurt he could never refute the truth of his own choices of words and actions. This being said, to those above him his heritage and history didn’t matter now that he was a Tenno, despised and used by the Orokin just like all the others.

After he closed his locker, he turned to those who had been whispering nearby with a polite smile. His voice was light, but firm. “It’s rude to talk about someone when you don’t even know their name. I’m Rexis Glacira, the new Commander for the Recon and Recovery squads housed in these barracks.”

At this the other Tenno immediately apologized, having not realized that Rexis was the one assigned to replace the recently fallen Commander. He knew they sincerely didn’t want to get in trouble already and he waved a hand dismissively. Glad to have somewhat broken the ice with these unfamiliar Tenno, he gave them a warm smile and relaxed his tone. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Really, it’s a pleasure to meet you all. If you don’t mind, could you round those up who aren’t on a mission or preparing for one? I’d like to meet everyone in the mess hall in about half an hour.”

“Y-yes, sir!” With that, the group scrambled off, leaving Rexis alone in the locker room.

He sighed and turned back to his locker, opening it to make sure he remembered the combo correctly. With a click it opened and he pulled the trinket box out. “Mom, please watch over me, that I may guide them according to what you and Dad taught me...”

---

Rexis opened his eyes from the memory and recalled the combo again. The sound of a strained click met his ears, but the locker opened with ease. He peered inside expecting nothing, but to his surprise what he had left there remained mostly intact. The photos, the storage devices, everything was where he had left it. Even the plant was there, though it had long since withered. However, he reached for the trinket box first.

He ran a thumb over the top slowly, wiping away the dust to reveal the gold, white, and blue design of the box before he opened it, a familiar tune immediately meeting his ears. A tune his mother sang to him despite the Void madness slowly taking over. Even now Rexis swore the music was what helped keep his mother sane, what gave her one last moment of clarity before she and Rexis’ father took their own lives.

[[ https://open.spotify.com/track/1vohbmg3p6Hy4p3AHEWFhB?si=ngg9B1JOTD-_WuLnndpTaA ]]

Rexis knelt on the floor, holding the open box close to his chest, head lowered. The tune was soft and simple, but now that he listened to it again after so long, it pulled forth a painful longing from the depths of his heart. He could almost hear his mother’s voice harmonizing gently with the rise and fall of the melody. A phantom warm embrace seemed to surround and protect him from the horrors of life, even if only for a moment.

As he sat there in the silence filled only by the music, vague memories seemed to come to the forefront of his mind. Memories he didn’t realize he had forgotten until now. He closed his eyes again, letting it wash over him.

---

“Mom! Mom!” Fourteen-year-old Rexis was jogging into one of the infirmaries of the ship, his mind finally made up on what he wanted to ask his parents. They had been floating in the Void aboard the Zariman Ten-Zero for a couple months now. The entire time they had been stranded his parents were busy medically tending to those they could, his father being a renowned doctor while his mother worked as an apothecary. While they had originally been there to take care of those of the upper echelons of society aboard the ship, they had begun taking in anyone who sought their help since the accident.

“Rexis, shhh!” Melia Glacira turned from the sleeping patient she was examining and held a finger to her own lips. She kept her voice to a whisper. “It’s late. You should be going to bed soon.”

“But… Mom…” Rexis gave her a pleading look, keeping his voice lowered as instructed. “Can you pleeeease sing for me tonight?”

Melia gave him an apologetic smile. “Sweetie, you know I need to-”

“Just for a few minutes! I know you and Dad are busy… But I…” Rexis bit his lower lip. His resolve was quickly crumbling away under the responsibility his parents had. But he was their child. He could be selfish for once, right? “I just… wanted to spend some time with you… beyond teaching me things…” He started tearing up, torn between his selfish request and risking the lives of those under his parents’ care.

His mother stayed silent so he continued. “One… One night wouldn’t hurt anyone… would it...? If it would... I won’t ask again… But I… I-I miss…” He found he couldn’t speak anymore, his voice taken over by restrained sobs as he lowered his head in shame. How could he ask something so selfish when so many lives were on the line? His parents were doing everything they could keep other parents, and some children, alive. They were working day in and day out to find something to combat the madness taking all the adults over. As it was, there were already numerous reports of bloodshed from the lower areas of the ship. So how was his happiness and loneliness worth anything compared to all the other lives they were trying to save?

Melia looked at her son in a bit of surprise before she softened. Coming over and taking a knee in front of the young boy, she wrapped her arms around him, gently stroking his soft, blonde hair that had started to turn blue at the roots with the influence of the Void. “I’m sorry, Rex, I didn’t know you felt so lonely… We’ll sing tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after that. A few minutes each night won’t hurt anyone, I promise.”

With the tender touch and reassurance, Rexis broke down, clinging to his mother. He knew he had to grow up fast given the circumstances. Already he was doing so much to help care for the younger kids who had lost their parents. But that didn’t erase the fact that he was still a child himself and still wanted to be with his parents as much as he could. Especially given he didn’t know how much longer they would be around.

As Rexis began to calm back down, Melia stood back up and gently wiped away his tears before taking his hand. “Come on, sweetie, let’s go get your father. Have you picked what song you would like us to sing?”

---

Rexis opened his eyes and wiped his own tears away, still clinging to the singing trinket box. He finished dusting off the box as he smiled sadly. “If only you could see me now, Mom, all the things you taught me let me help so many others... I’m sure you and Dad would be proud of me...”

After a moment, he closed the box and silence settled back into the area as the echoes faded. Slowly he got up and took a few deep breaths. Once he recomposed himself, he gathered the items in the locker, putting some smaller things in the trinket box and pocketing others. He looked at the small wilted plant before taking it and carefully placing the pot on top of the box. Perhaps there was a seed or two within the soil that could be salvaged, slumbering in wait for the day water would breathe life back into it.

Rexis then decided to take the items back to his landing craft and have lunch before he continued with wandering the halls for the rest of the afternoon. There was nothing pressing to attend to and he had found himself going to Lua that morning on a whim. As he placed the items carefully down within the confines of the cockpit, only then did he realize how much he needed this trip for his own mental and emotional health. He hadn’t expected to find his old possessions, he honestly thought they were long lost and didn’t bother looking out of fear of disappointment, but he was glad he had them now.

After a quick lunch he wandered back out, letting his memories guide him to another part of the broken moon. He found himself in other familiar halls, those that he often navigated in the final months before all the Tenno went to sleep in the Reservoir.

These were the halls that reminded him of someone else who was deeply imprinted on his heart. His mind replayed the bold laughter of another Tenno, one he had found to be the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. At least in his own eyes. The beauty and handsomeness of other Tenno Rexis had flirted with prior couldn’t compare to the attractive personality that drew Rexis in when it came to Aniran Ignitia.

As he turned a corner, Rexis let out a chuckle into the empty halls as he recalled how insistent Aniran was with being called “Agni” instead. It had taken Rexis a few corrections before he finally just changed the name on the copy of the squad roster he had in order to keep himself for messing up again and again when asked to round up people for missions. But from his memories, he couldn’t recall if Agni was actually upset with him or not whenever he forgot to use the nickname instead. He shrugged to himself then stopped and noted where he had walked to.

“This is…” His voice caught in his throat as he briskly walked around the perpetually moving statue in the center of the room, heading to a partially walled off area opposite the door. Within that area, light streamed in through an inwardly-curved wall made almost entirely of windows. He slowly walked over to the center of the glass wall, looking out over the broken landscape of Lua, the stars shining overhead.

Looking at the windowsill, he traced his fingertips over the top edge before sitting down on the floor. He loosely crossed his legs as he leaned against the wall, propping his head up on his hand with his elbow on the slanted top half of the wall, and gazed out the window. Back then, it was a perfect view of one of the major landing pads. Whenever Agni went on a mission without him, he would come here and wait for his return. Sure, Agni’s real body was in a Somatic Link pod deeper within the moon, but he was within the Chroma that he used. And he waited for that Red Chroma’s return, every single time.

---

Rexis curled up against the windowsill of one of the observatory rooms, occasionally glancing out at the nearby landing pad between the pages of the book he held. He wasn’t terribly interested in the book, but more used it to cover up the fact that he was waiting for Agni’s return. He still hadn’t confessed yet. Quite frankly he was afraid to.

Rexis previously flirted with girls, boys, even those who identified as neither or both. What they identified as didn’t matter to him as much as their personality. As for Agni? Rexis had no clue what the other Tenno preferred as Agni didn’t seem terribly interested in anyone from what he had observed. Because of this, Rexis made sure no one else picked up on the fact that he was head over heels for the charismatic Tenno. He couldn’t handle the more teasing on top of the whispers behind his back for his seemingly favored position in the ranks. Even less so if anyone found out that the Red Chroma-user he crushed hard on didn’t even look at him that way.

“Rex-rex!” A young girl’s voice brought the older Tenno’s attention away from his spiraling thoughts.

Rexis looked up to Kayla Inva, one of the children he had taken care of on the Ten-Zero, running to him. “Hmm? What is it Kayla?” He raised an eyebrow as he shifted his sitting position to better face her.

The eleven-year-old stopped and looked down at him, a gleeful smile on her face. “What cha reaaaadin’?”

The sixteen-year-old blinked in confusion before he laughed, having expected a different answer to his question. “Oh! I’m reading a book Agni thought I might like.” He held up the book to show her what it was.

“I thought you didn’t like those kinds of books?” Kayla tilted her head as she inspected the cover with her purple-pink eyes.

“Yeah… Weeellll I’m always willing to give things another chance. Maybe I just hadn’t found the right book of this genre yet. And this one is turning out to be fairly interesting.” He kept his tone light despite still not being a fan of what he was reading, but when it came to Agni he couldn’t refuse.

“Oooooh, ok! Nick and I are gonna go get dinner. Do you wanna join?” Kayla hopped on her toes a bit, black hair pulled into ponytails bouncing along with her.

“Hmmmm... I’m almost done with the book. I’ll join you after.” Rexis gave her a smile to cover up the half-truth. He couldn’t tell her why he was really sitting there, but he had no other excuse to stay.

“Okay! I’ll go tell Nick!” Without another word, Kayla turned and ran off.

The older Tenno let out a sigh before turning back to the window. Propping his chin up on his hand, he muttered to himself. “Why is this so hard… I only have a few weeks before the next phase begins. Once the Reservoir is complete, once we’re done with all this training and fully engrossed in war... Will I even have the chance to tell him?”

---

A rumbling brought Rexis out of the memory and he glanced around before realizing that it was just a few rocks outside that had fallen over. A sigh escaped his lips as he gazed out the window again. “Never got a chance before we all slept in the Reservoir… Even after I just... couldn’t…”

Rexis mentally kicked himself in regret. As much as he had tried to convince himself that it was ok to confess via his Warframe, the fact that it didn’t feel genuine enough was what stopped him. He didn’t want to hide behind the mask of the emotionless Warframe for a false sense of confidence. Agni’s Red Choma was as unique as his own Frost Prime’s in design and color choices, so he always immediately knew it was Agni when he saw that Red Choma walk by, when he heard the loud laughter echo down the halls between missions. But Rexis wanted to be able to see Agni’s eyes, to hear his real voice, to be in his physical presence when telling him how he loved him. So, the icy Tenno had resigned himself to just enjoying Agni’s relative presence through their Warframes with the hope of one day confessing when the war was over.

The Tenno’s heart ached as he thought about it all again. He never got a chance after the war either. Things moved so fast. The Orokin empire fell and they were all put to sleep, even their Warframes. He had known he had a time limit back then. He had known his window of opportunity was closing as the Orokin Empire fell into chaos. He recalled the last time he saw Agni, his Red Chroma, and that he had made a point to say “See you later” instead of “Goodbye”.

But now he would likely never have another chance.

Despite how much Rexis desperately wanted to see the fiery Tenno again, his hope was dimming more and more each day it seemed. He had been awake again for sixteen years, encountered numerous Tenno and many Red Chromas. Yet not one of them was Agni. None of them had the same style, the same bold personality, the same laugh…

Rexis continued to sit there in silence, staring out the window in longing for his heart’s desire. What shenanigans would Agni drag him into with the current state of things? What crazy stunts would the bold Tenno pull just because he could, especially now that he had no one to answer to or get in trouble with? The lonely Tenno didn’t know how long he was there as he imagined what it would be like to see Agni again. He didn’t want to look at the time as time kept betraying him, but another thought subsequently interrupted his daydreaming.

If he waited there, in the same place as he used to, would Agni appear? If he waited to hear that infectious laugh echo through the room, would he be able to happily listen to Agni’s story about the latest mission he was on, like back then? If he came back here every day, like a prince waiting for the dragon to steal him away, would he finally be rescued from his lonely fate? Even if Rexis still couldn’t bring himself to confess to Agni…

Would he at least be able to see his sunshine again?

The glimmer of hope that remained seemed to brighten, only to dim as logic told him the idea was ridiculous. Then again, holding onto a possibly one-sided love for so long was also something others would likely scoff at, but Rexis just couldn’t bring himself to move on. The hopeless romantic had given his heart away a long time ago and he didn’t want to abandon the one who had brought warmth and happiness to his cold world during those dark times.

With this in mind, Rexis decided to sit there a while longer, resolved to come back occasionally on the off chance that Agni was doing the same. Even if only for old times sake.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Hello!! I have been thinking about an AU where Nobunaga is Phantom of the Opera and MC is Christine. Maybe let's add some angst with Masamune as Raoul? Love your work!! ❤️❤️

Ok my... well, I do love a challenge and this... well here goes. @theduckmusician I do hope you will excuse my adaptation. I have written Act 1 for you. 

---

Act 1

There is a building resting far above a long-forgotten realm. A place forgotten in time whilst those who enter the building above indulge in lavish performances surrounded in opulence, he dwelled in the darkness below. In the caverns of medieval torture chambers and hidden dungeons.

The loss of he beloved, the empty feeling he had inside never filled. His anger at her rejection never snuffed out. Here in the darkness beneath the world he used to love he sits. Torturous songs playing like an overture to his sorrow, the sounds of Prima Donna’s failing to hold so much as a candle to the voice he loved, the one that was forever lost.

If not but for one kindness he was saved that day. Saved… His red eyes reflected nothing as he stared into space lost in his own mind.

---

Buildings have a way of having history and none more so than a theatre. The tales told on stage seemed to add weight to imaginations and tales of misfortune that were unexplainable became such as things of ghoulish ghost stories. A penny dreadful in the ranks of hundreds of others.

Rehearsals were dragging the new performance was to open soon and once more eyes and ears were directed to the stage. The resident Soprano Prima Donna residing in her spotlight. She was to perform an aria for the new managers. The music rose from the pit and as she began to sing her song… the newest in a line of inexplicable things occurred and all hell broke loose.

The creak of the supports for the scenery and backdrops was so loud on stage it thankfully gave enough warning to the chorus girls to get out of the way. The backdrop swung and tumbled amidst the screams and cries of the staff missing the Primadonna by mere inches. Whispers in the shadows of the name said to haunt this building “The Phantom”.

---

“She won’t come back.” Firmin announced as he re-joined the other new manager in the seating.

“What exactly are we meant to do now? We are sold out cancelling now… well, it would be a total disaster.” Andre looked as if the colour had drained away from him. For 3 years these sorts of things had been happening and there seemed to be no sign of them stopping.

“Gentlemen if I may. There is one in the chorus that is quite well educated in opera. Her father was a musician and I am sure she could sing the part of the Prima Donna.” The ballet mistress approached the two gentlemen to offer a possible solution.

“Madame, you wish us to use a chorus girl?”

“The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about but if we use a chorus girl and she is terrible we might as well have cancelled.”

“Please allow her to perform. Judge for yourselves.” Reluctantly the two men nodded in agreement. It was not the best solution they had been given but it was the only one they had right now.

---

“Mc.” A soft voice calls out from behind the chorus girl sitting alone adjusting her shoe.

“Madame?” Mc turns to the familiar voice and smiles a little nervously. Did I do something?

“They are asking for you.” The older woman gentle takes Mc’s hands and gives her a soft pull on them to encourage her to walk.

“Me? But… I…” Stammering Mc becomes flustered. Oh, cats! Why? What is going on?

“Hurry child go.”

At the prompting of the Madame Giry, Mc approached the stage wracked with nerves and walked out into the spotlight.

“You are Mc?” A voice called out from somewhere in the seating. It was difficult to make out anything under the stage lighting.

“Yes, Sir.” Mc stood on the mark in the centre of the stage. The debris from the “accident” was already pulled back and being cleared.

“Please. Sing the aria we were just listening to.”

“Sir?” Mc froze. She was a chorus girl performance was nothing new to her but to be asked to perform something for the Prima Donna… that was certainly not something she thought she would hear.

“We were told you could. So please.”

---

The voice that sung out in the gloom was clear and enchanting. It felt as if it had captured his heart. Never had he felt that in all these years. The Prima donna’s before had all been but strangled cats compared to this reverence... this beauty.

Looking out from his protection he saw her, a vision in the spotlight and felt his heart take flight. Forgotten memories and feelings bubbled to the surface in the fibre of his being. Nobunaga smiled for the first time in years, feeling as if someone had allowed his angel to return to him.

---

It was the evening performance. He had donned his formal attire and decided to attend the opera regardless of his lack of companionship for the night. He had heard some rumours recently and was curious as a cat to see for himself what ghostly spectre might be about.

His friend had called him a buffoon for believing such baseless reports but still, it had stoked his imagination and piqued his interest. So, imagine his surprise when he should take his seat and as the curtain rose there in front of him was his childhood friend... Mc.

---

The debut was a total earth trembling success. The wave of applause that reached the stage after the curtain fell felt as if it was all part of some dream to her. It took her friend Meg talking to her backstage for her to finally realise that it was not a dream at all. I really… I really did it!

“I still can’t believe you were hiding such a talent Mc.” Meg was giggling as she rocked happily on a stool by the dressing table. “Where did you take lessons?”

“Oh, that? I’m not certain even if I were to explain that you would understand me any better. The Angel of Music taught me.” Mc spoke a little distantly as she remembered something from her past. If ever there was a ghost, she supposed that was it. But rather than frightening it felt like an old friend. It almost felt like a memory of love.

“Angel of Music? Now that sounds just like a fairy tale. And very you to think of such a thing.” A masculine voice spoke causing both girls with jerk up and look at the man standing nonchalantly in the doorway.

“Masa!?” Mc recognised his face. He was older now, well they both were. But his eyes… they still held the same mischievous spark that she remembered from childhood. The electrifying bolt of lightning in the deep blue of the ocean.

“Hello, Kitten. Miss me?” He smiled broadly, chuckling at the sight of her acting like a small child.

“Of course, I did. However, did you think I wouldn’t miss my childhood friend? And they weren’t fairy tales Masa you remember father telling us both about the Angel of music.” Mc rose from her chair and embraced her visitor in a friendly hug.

“I should be going to help Mother with the props. As you have company now Mc, I’ll take my leave.” Meg also rose and made an excuse to exit. Not wishing to play the third wheel in a reunion of old friends.

“Oh? Alright, Meg. Thank you for everything.”

“I did nothing and you know it.” Meg motioned to Mc to come closer just as she was leaving. “But I will expect you to tell me more about tall dark and dreamy over there later.” With a wink, Meg vanished into the belly of the opera house leaving Masa and Mc behind in the dressing room.

---

She was as pretty as he remembered her to be. Well, possibly even prettier now as she was all grown up. The chatted for what seemed like hours as she regaled him with stories that she remembered and brought up once more the Angel of music. Mc said it was that Angel that taught her to sing “Little Lotte”.

Masa smiled at her as she spoke. She seemed so happy and so at peace. Having a comforting fantasy like that was not a bad thing. She had already lost so much, he knew that. So, it would be cruel to burst her bubble now and tell her that there was no such person as the Angel of music. No, He wished for her to be forever smiling. He wished for her to stay as she was and not change.

“Well, Kitten. It is getting late and I dare say you haven’t eaten yet.” Masa broached the topic of what he really wanted to ask when he first realised Mc was here. He had always loved her, and he felt tonight might be fates way of saying he had a chance.

“Oh… sorry.” Mc blushed as a soft rumble came from her stomach. It was endearing and cute as hell to him.

“Haha, some things never change. I’ll just go grab my hat and coat from the coat check and be right back. I’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate your grande debut.”

“Ok.” Her soft smile warmed him. As he left the room, he felt the happiest he had been in a long time.

---

Mc removed the last of her oil paint makeup in the mirror and just as she was reaching her hand for her hairbrush an unfamiliar voice called out.

“Mc”

“Who is it?” Mc asked nervously. She should have been alone. “I would rather not play games. I am rather tired from the performance after all. Whoever you are, reveal yourself.” Whether it was a trick of the light or some other form of sorcery a cloaked figure appeared by her mirror. “Eek!”

“Do not be afraid. I wish you no harm.” His voice was deep and somehow soothing. But there was an edge to it that almost demanded she did not disobey his commands. It was a strange spell-like feeling that washed over her.

“Who are you?”

“A memory from another time. I remember you even if you do not remember me. Your voice is as enchanting as ever.” There was no way of telling what the figures face would reveal as it was covered in a mask. Not completely but enough to make it unreadable.

“My voice? Are you the Angel? Did… did father send you?” Mc’s eyes sparkled with childlike innocence. It made his heart twist painfully in his chest. To think he had felt a burning anger moments earlier when he had watched her interact with that other man. He had no right. She was his, his Princess, his Prima Donna.

“Come to me.” He held out a gloved hand.

“Where are we?” As she asked, she had already placed her own hand in his and was being led away from her dressing room.

“Somewhere safe. I have a proposition for you Mc. How would you like to sing for me?” His words sounded so finite it was difficult to tell if he was asking or telling. Somewhere in the walk, they had left the lit passages the staff would use and they were now in a chilled damp area somewhere unfamiliar.

“Excuse me?” Concern and reasoning finally reached Mc’s mind as she realised, she was lost. But for all the fact she was lost in darkness the hand holding hers never left and she did not feel as afraid as she should have.

“Sing for me. I have written the songs that shall ensnare the hearts and minds of the masses and you... you Mc are the only one I shall allow to perform them.” A boat, no a gondola. On what looked like a small river loomed out of the darkness as light filtered around them. The Angel spoke as he guided her on board.

“Why me? There are other singers. Much more talented ones than I.” She took a seat and watched as he pushed off and propelled them along with the staff.

“NO! It must be you. Only you shall be the one to stand on my stage to sing my songs to rule the world at my tune.” He was so passionate it was almost terrifying. Mc recoiled a little before deciding to relax herself by gazing around. A song reached her ears. It was faint at first but gained in volume as they moved steadily along the river. Her mind filled with emotion he thought she recognised and yet somehow, they didn’t feel as if they were hers at all.

When the boat stopped, they were in front of what looked to be a cell except it was decorated in a way that looked almost like the stage to a great play. There were trinkets and oddities everywhere she looked. As she brushed past a mirror the fabric draped over it fell and for a second, she thought she saw a woman standing on her wedding day. No, I wasn’t A woman it was her. Blinking in disbelief the image seemed to call for her and that was when her mind went black.

The sensation of floating and being covered in something was the only thing she felt as the darkness took what was left of her consciousness.

---

Organ music… deep resonating organ music. Fluttering her eyes at the sound Mc sat up a cloak slipping from her shoulders and noticing a small music box playing a simple tune next to her. But still, that sound was not that. The silhouette of the Angel was in front of her he was sitting at an organ pressing keys and scribbling quill on paper as he wrote some of the most sorrowful music she had ever heard.

She stood in silence behind him. Watching until she caught the sight of the mask. Once seen it could not be forgotten. Curiosity swelled inside her and she reached for it without thinking. The look of shock on his face when he turned to her was lost on her as she fought hard to suppress a scream and failed.

“What the Hell do you think you are playing at?” Nobunaga whipped around on his stool. His red eyes flashed a dangerous shade, dishevelled black hair trembled with his rage. Not wishing to stay and risk his wrath Mc bolted from the organ and ran.

Fear can take you to a lot of places but here in the darkness it only took her to a hidden section in the inhabited room. She trembled knowing it was only a matter of time before she met some sort of fate.

“You think that I would wear such a thing for decoration? I am a monster.” “I loved once and was loved but when that love died that part, the human part perished as well. Every night I remember, every day I fail to forget. All I desire is for something I fear I can no longer have.”

“I’m sorry. I should not have reacted so brashly.” Mc handed back the mask she still had in her hand and after the Angel had replaced it on his face, she gave him a pitiable smile.

“I shall take you back.”

---

“Mc did you hear?” Meg came rushing over to Mc when she saw her the next day.

“Hear what?”

“Apparently the managers have been fielding accusations all morning. First was that fine gentleman from before… what did you call him, Masa? And then there was the former Prima Donna and her mother.” Meg was whispering the information excitedly.

“What was the problem do we know?”

“No idea, I heard it was something to do with letters, threats and warnings. But you know what second-hand gossip is like?”

“Yeah…” Mc answered distractedly as she looked towards the office.

“Still kinda exciting isn’t it?”

---

“This is totally ridiculous!” Carlotta threw her arms up in the arm waving the letter she had received around as if it was a flag.

“Please, Carlotta calm down.”

“Calm down you expect my daughter to just calm down after receiving such a letter?”

“Excuse me.” A loud knock came from the door disturbing the inhabitants.

“Madame Giry what is it? We are in the middle of something.”

“There is another note Sir. It was left at the ticket booth.” Madame Giry handed over the note, looking grave.

The two managers ignored the distraught Prima Donna as they quickly read the new note. Demands for replacement of Carlotta in the new performance in favour of Mc, and the reservation of one of the boxes for the performance.

“What do you intend to do about this?” Carlotta screeched as she saw part of what was scrawled on the paper in their hands.

“Nothing. You shall, of course, remain as the lead. Mc will be cast somewhere else.”

---

The premiere performance of the new opera was going to plan. The audience was receiving it very well and each act had a resounding amount of applause.

“This is an abomination!”

From high above the stage somewhere in what sounded like the rafters an angry voice resonated and fell like a led weight on the opera house.

“The Phantom…” Mc muttered.

“Shut up you little toad you have no lines.” Carlotta spat under her breath. The look of hatred in her eyes would have killed if it could.

“Toad? Do you dare call such an angel voice as hers that? It is your voice that has cats calling out in the streets echoing in reply to their mother’s call. Yours is a voice that puts others to shame only in their most unpleasant and horrific nightmares. If the composure could hear you now, he would be wallowing in agony as he was forced to listen to you destroy such a wondrous piece.” The voice from on high called out its barbs rendering the Prima Donna speechless.

One of the manages pushes his way to the stage to make an announcement. This performance was rendered a complete shambles. He told the conductor to play the music for the ballet in the hope of causing a small distraction but to no avail.

Amidst the chattering and confusion, the body of a man drops unceremoniously from the rafters swinging eerily on a rope. The building erupts in pandemonium the sound of demonic laughter echoing high above as the chaos beneath is raged on.

“Hey… Hey Kitten!”

“Masa?” Mc turned to see her friend standing just off stage but the curtain. Beckoning to her.

“Come with me.” As she got closer, he grabbed her hand and they both took off running as if to escape the swarming crowds behind them.

---

The back-stage stairs were clear of people as everyone seemed to be running around the main stage. Up and up they climbed until Masa gave a small grunt and a hard shove against a panel in the ceiling and then as agile as a cat pulled himself up and reached back to pull Mc to join him.

The air whipped around them to the point that Mc nearly fell. Masa wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to sit between his legs on the roof tiles. His arms never left her which gave her the feeling of complete security even in this precarious position.

“I have no idea what all that was about Kitten but I’m glad we managed to get out of there before something happened and you.” Masa’s voice in her ear sounded concerned. The warmth of him against her back was reassuring.

“I don’t know either but…” Mc trailed of remembering previous events.

“Kitten?”

“I kind of think it might be something to do with the Angel of Music… except I’m not sure he was. I think it was the Phantom.” Mc spoke slowly while she tried to express herself.

“Kitten, you didn’t hit your head did you?” Masa was not exactly believing this all 100% but to his credit, he was trying.

“No Masa I didn’t. Please believe me. I went with the Phantom and saw his home. I… I think he is hurting.” Mc sounded a little sorrowful as she remembered the pained expression and the heartfelt words from the mysterious masked man.

“Ok Kitten I believe you. But I want you to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t go anywhere else with him. Phantom or no Phantom.” Masa was almost pleading. He had no idea if anything she was saying was true but if by chance it was he did not want to risk it.

“Why?”

“Because… Gods Kitten do I seriously have to spell it out for you? I have loved you for the longest time and I don’t want to see you getting hurt. I want to be able to be there for you, to look after you, protect you… love you.” His confession made her heart dance. She had often thought of him in the past as someone she loved but never dared hope.

“I… I want that too Masa.”

“That’s a good Kitten.” Masa leant forward and kissed her temple before moving to help her stand. “We should probably go back inside I think that is some police just turned up we should go and talk to them.”

“Ok” The happy couple left the exposed rooftop and returned below.

---

A gloved hand tightened its grip on the iron bars that surrounded the edge of the rooftop. How dare he… How dare he try to take her from him. The ray of sunshine that had at last fallen into his gloomy world. Dare to take the colour from the world around him and plunge him back into the abyss. This was not happening. It was not happening again!

Rushing along to a different set of stairs the Phantom worked his way along until he found the bolt in the beam he was looking for. The music played below but this was not the curtain call they had planned this would be the finale to bring down the house.

He loosened the bolt bit by bit. His rage fuelling his desire to see this through. And with one final turn, the bolt slipped free and the chandelier plummeted into the auditorium. If I can’t have her. I shall watch the world burn.

---

[mutantimagines]

Donatello x mutantcrow!reader

Finally I'm alive enough to write..sorry for being late anon! Hope I haven't let you down 🤗 

 Taking in a deep breath you cracked your neck and spread out the thick dark wings that stretched from your back. Being the way you were had some advantages, your darkened eyes could see for miles and see the smallest items from high up, the jagged finger nails helped you grip into the red brick buildings, your memory was endless; you could remember faces and sounds that you heard or seen in only seconds. You are one of a kind, their was no one else like you in the world. That was also the problem being alone in the world had taken its toll on you, going so far as to recede so far into yourself out of fear that you left behind Donatello in your rush. Not that he would of judged you much being a large mutant teenage turtles who was a ninja plus a genius in his own right. 

Somehow you couldn't even bring yourself to face him, mirrors reminded you of what you were, familiar faces reminded you of what you used to be. Beautiful, graceful, smart, Human. Now what were you, a teenage girl who flew threw the streets of New York taking on the people that made you this way. The tabloids called you the flying phantom and feathered freak, your enemies feared you but so did the people that you used to walk among. 

 In the sewers far below the building that you perched upon, there sat a lonely purple clad turtle huddled over news paper clippings and empty pizza boxes. His heart broken and his eyes dry for he had no more tears to shed though he could whip up a chemical solution it almost seemed wrong to. He wanted to find you before anything happened to you nothing could be worse then what already happened and he didn't want you to go through it alone, he knew you needed time but six months was enough, didn't you know that he needed you to? The soft touch of your hands on his skin, the laugh that made him walk on air, the way you walked and the way you had the pizza order memorized really was what he needed. He needed you the most but you were quick, slick and you owned the skies and ruled over the nights of new yorks docks. Rumor has it that you perched atop the old church on the outskirts of the city, taking the place of a gargoyle that had crumbled away from age. 

He looked up from the strewn mess of papers and boxes and blinked to adjust to the sudden light, grabbing the bo staff on his way out he took a swift leave of absence from his lab. Kicking up dust from the sheer speed he left at, determined to find his lost love, to let her know how beautiful she was, how he loved her how he craved her. How much he loved you was indescribable, to him you were more beautiful then the Mona Lisa, the stars couldn't compare to your eyes, it was if the angels had blessed him to give him a chance with someone like you. 

Though atop the crumbling church you thought the opposite, someone out there had cursed you with this terrible situation. You hid from your friends ready to prey on the creatures that created you into a monster. Your eyes could see them moving in the distance the glow of the green mutagen shone bright in the dark night, you had them right where you wanted them there was no going back from this once you had them. Did you really want it this way? To do unto these people what they did to you, to create more freaks in New York, perhaps you were bitter but you couldn't help it. Losing Donatello to your own selfishness had finally pushed you over the edge, you let the hatred inside you swallow you whole and blind you from the love that you had. You tumbled back from the edge of the building and landed on your arse, taking a deep breath and looking at your reflection the the mirror you’d picked up from the streets, your bag beside it glittered from the objects you’d collected, ranging from shining stones to screws and bolts you thought could be useful to Donnie. 

Suddenly the rooftop door slammed open with a great fury, nearly flying off its hinges you let out your screeching cry in hopes of defending yourself and scaring off your latest enemy. You were vulnerable you didn't want to fight anyone right now but if you had to you would certainly end them before you could possibly stop yourself. The figure stayed in the shadows seeming to consume your appearance and create the plan of attacking by calculating the weaknesses that you may or may not have. Your wings flew out behind you in defense extending to the full span and wrapping around your body to create a shield of feathers, your wings would heal but your heart wouldn't. Though through your terror you heard no battle cry but instead soft footsteps moving closer till you peeked through the cracks in your wings to see the desperate face on the man you loved finally seeing you fully for the first time in months.

 “Y/n…please tell me that's your name isn't it?” 

Your throats was raw from the tears you shed earlier and the screech you released only moments before, clutching your chest you coughed hard and repeatedly. The mutation had reeked havoc on your system and had made you sick but not enough to cause harm just more of a perpetuating common cold. Yet you managed to croak out complete sentences,

 “Donnie, what are you doing here? Don't come any closer…please”

 “Baby…y/n I’m not letting you push me away anymore. You've had your time to grieve but now it's time to heal. At least let me look at you, I can't know what's wrong until you show me”

 “Can't you see what's wrong Donatello? Can't you see what they've done to me, I have wings etching from my back, my hair is slick like the feathers I carry, my eyes black and sharp to the point, I’m no longer the girl I used to be. Who ever she was she's not here anymore and you don't have to be trapped with me any longer.”

 “*chuckles* Darling you realize your talking to a oversized teenage turtle? No matter who you are, where you are or what you are I will always love you. We can search every chemical we need to, I’m going to fix you darling, even if you aren't broken. We’ll make it right! In fact I have a retro mutagen just on the go…you and master splinter will be the first of course to try it but I need to test it first! Don't need any accidents or extra heads sprouting like the last plant I tried it on…-“

 “You're rambling Donnie”

 “Oh, sorry I-“

“No…I missed it…don't stop” “I think you’re the only person who actually listened to all that”

 “I’m not a person anymore Don…I don't know what I am”

“Y/n L/n, that's who you are. Your smart, kind, beautiful, you've got the best eyes for miles, the most compassionate heart, you bring me out of my shell when I've been in the lab to long, you're the strongest person I've ever met both in skill and meant all capabilities. Shell y/n you've even kicked Raphael's ass before. I love you, I’m sorry I never got a chance to say it”

 Letting your wings fall gently to the ground, you touched the side of Donatello’s face, feeling him lean into your gentle touch. It both broke and repaired your heart at the same time. He always loved you, he will always love you. Even if your close together or far apart, the pain and dedication he must've felt to spend this long finding you it meant more then the world. Donnie would love you for who you are, whether it was the teenage girl who could walk in the sun or the phantom of New York who prowled the streets at midnight. Mutation or differences aside, it was time to know it all.

 “I love you Donatello, more then words can describe”  “Never forgot who much you mean to me y/n….i’ll never stop loving you”

[play-read-write]

RWBY Phantom Jack O’ Lantern

Fandom: RWBY Words: 1899 Description: Danny Phantom AU. Ruby and her friends find a grimm, a malicious creature from the Ghost Zone, robbing a shop and intervene to try and stop it. 

Ruby walked down the street taking exaggerated steps and humming to herself. Her friends walked with her, Weiss on one side, her sister Yang on the other, and Blake pulling up the rear as she read and walked. It was a simple journey, a time out with friends as they headed down to Wok In The Park for a bit to eat. At least that’s what it would have been, if it hadn’t been rudely interrupted.

A woman ran past them from the direction they were headed. She was screaming as she ran, and was soon followed by a couple more people doing the same.

“You don’t think…” Ruby says.

“Isn’t it always?” Blake says.

“Let’s go check it out.” Yang says and they take off running. Soon enough they find the cause, just as expected. The windows of a shop were shattered and money floated around an eerily glowing figure of a man in hat with a cane.

“Weiss?” Ruby asks.

“I’m looking.” Weiss says, already on her scroll. “No information. Either new or too small to know about.”

“Well, guess there’s one way to learn.” Ruby says. “I’m going ghost.” She runs into an alleyway nearby and looks to make sure no one can see her. With a burst of power two rings form at her waist, one rising up and the other going down, changing her appearance.

Her usually black hair takes on a blood red look, her hood turns pure white and her clothes beneath it change to black and white with only a few splashes of blood red. Then for a finishing touch her eyes begin to glow with a green light.

Jumping into the air she turns and flies back out of the alleyway and towards the shop. “Hey.” She calls out, “What are you doing?”

“Oh my, oh my, what have we here?” The ghost says, leaning on his cane despite his feet not touching the ground. “I must ask, why does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re robbing that store.” Ruby says.

“Right in one, wow you are good.” He says, pointing at her. “It’s almost like I’m a thief.”

“Who are you, why are you robbing them? You’re a Grimm, a ghost, you don’t need money.”

“To answer your first question, the name’s Roman Torchwick, and as for the stealing…” He looks at the things around him, “Well that I just enjoy.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Ruby says.

“And just why is that? Who are you to tell me not to, little girl?”

“I am Phantom, and I’m here to stop you.” Ruby says.

“Oh we’ll see.” He says and raises his cane, pointing it at her. A moment later a ghostly laughing jack O’ Lantern shot out of it, right at her.

Her eyes went wide and she turned, flying around, barely ahead of each shot as it impacted things around her. Making herself intangible she flew through a wall, hearing the shots impact it. Turning around right where he wouldn’t expect she flew back out of the wall and fired off green beams from her hands, hitting him in the chest and sending him backwards.

Flying at him she drew back her fist, ready to hit him again, only to be caught in the chest by a sudden shot. She tumbled backwards in the air and fell to the ground. Just before another one could hit her she sunk into the ground. Moving through the ground out of sight she came up behind him and blasted him in the back.

“Oh now that is it.” He cries out. Pulling the cigar out of his mouth he raises his foot and stomps down on it. As he does there’s a bright flash of light, causing Ruby to shield her eyes. When she looks back again he’s gone.

“Dang it.” She says, looking around. Not seeing him anywhere she turns and dives down into the ground. A few moments later she rises up behind her friends, invisible for a moment before reappearing with a loud “Boo!”

“Gah!” Weiss says and jumps. Yang on the other hand turns around with a right hook that passes right through Ruby. “Don’t do that!” Weiss says.

“Scaredy cats.” Ruby says with a giggle, turning back to normal. “Well, we’ve got a new ghost to deal with, this one with a few tricks up their sleeve.”

“I’ve saved the name.” Weiss says, tapping on her scroll. “Roman Torchwick. I’m also already working on comprising a list of his abilities. So far we’ve seen those strange jack o’ lantern blasts and a bright flash.”

“Technically we didn’t see the flash.” Yang says, “Wait. Oh no.” her eyes go wide.

“What is it?” Ruby asks, suddenly worried.

“That terrible old ghost dude just flashed my little sister!” She says before grinning.

Weiss face palms as Blake groans and Ruby pouts. “I was worried for a minute!” Ruby says.

“Oh come on that was a good one.” Yang says.

“Let’s just go help the shop owner clean up.” Ruby says, “We can go get the food after.”

“Yeah yeah, let’s go.” Yang agrees as they head over to lend a hand.

…

“I’m still not used to all this.” Weiss says as she sits down at the lunch table with the others, students moving all around them.

“What, public school food?” Yang asks, “Yeah you never really do get used to it.”

“No not that.” Weiss says, “Though this… stuff is still strange. I’m not even sure it qualifies as food.”

“You can eat it without dying, so it’s food.” Blake says.

“Really?” Ruby asks, “Cause I ate it and now I’m a ghost.”

“Nice.” Yang says, giving Ruby a high five.

“That is what I’m talking about.” Weiss says, “You’re half grimm now.”

“Half ghost.” Blake corrects.

“What’s the difference?” Weiss asks.

“Grimm are malicious beings of darkness from the ghost zone.” Yang says, “They’re bad guys. Like, there are good ghosts, beings from there that don’t want to destroy humanity and steal stuff and whatnot, but the Grimm are the bad ones. They’ve got some kind of different energy apparently.”

“Right, your father’s a Grimm hunter, of course you’d know.” Weiss says.

“Well duh.” Ruby says as she eats.

“It’s still weird to me though.” Weiss says, “You can shift between dimensional phases at will and we battle beings from an alternate plane of reality. What kind of people have these problems?”

“Us, apparently.” Yang says, taking a bite. “I mean, it’s kind of odd, but odd things happen around our house so you get used to it.”

“Well what about you?” Weiss asks Blake, “You’re not there all the time, you have to find this weird.”

“There was an accident, Ruby got super powers. Get used to it, Weiss.” Blake says, “She’s still Ruby.”

“You’re all odd.” Weiss says.

“Yep.” Ruby says with a grin. “Oh, and since we’re talking about it, does anyone know anything about that Torchwick guy?”

“I did find something.” Weiss says, “Apparently a few small shops have been hit as well. It appears our new ghost is a petty thief.”

“So we need to keep an eye on small shops with a few pricey things?”

“Awesome, stake out.” Yang says, pumping a fist.

“Well I have picked out a few choice targets.” Weiss says.

“I’m game. I’m a night person anyway.” Blake says.

“Sweet, let’s hatch a plan.” Ruby says.

…

A crash echoed through the night as a window shattered. “Gya ha ha ha. Oh this is too much fun.” Came Roman’s voice. “Ohh, shiny.”

“Ruby I’ve got him.” Yang says into her scroll from her spot hiding across the street.

“On my way.” Ruby says, closing her own. Jumping up she turned on her powers, turning invisible and intangible as she flew through the air towards Yang’s location. Luckily Yang was the closest one to her.

“Let’s see let’s see, where to go next?” Roman says as he floats down the street, headed for another store, bills and change floating around him.

Ruby comes flying down the street and doesn’t even bother warning him. Drawing back she throws a blast forward, knocking him down. “How about back to the ghost zone?” She says.

“Ugh, the little punk again.” He says, firing off a few blasts from his cane at her as he got up.

This time Ruby met them with shots of her own, causing them to burst in midair. Through the small explosions she didn’t see him rush forward, swinging his cane down to hit her to the side and then pinning her against the wall with it.

“Just a little girl who wants to be a hero.” He says, “Well not for much longer.”

“Oh yeah?” Ruby says and goes intangible. She couldn’t phase through ghostly matter, but the wall behind her was normal so she could step back away from him easily. As he fell forward from the sudden loss of resistance she raised a knee and caught him in the face. Then she let off another blast, sending him flying back.

“Ruby, catch.” Yang called out, throwing her a rectangular hunk of metal. “Dad finished it!”

“Awesome.” Ruby says. With a flip of the switch it transformed, shifting into a large scythe.

“What are you gonna do with that, prune me?” Roman asked, getting up.

“Better.” Ruby says with a smile. She flies forward with it drawn back, swerving around his blasts. When she got close enough she swung down with the heal of it, striking again and again. Swinging it around her she fought, each of them striking out and deflecting each-other’s strikes. Finally she spots her chance.

Swinging upwards he leans back to avoid it and she lets go, letting the scythe get tossed into the air as she throws her hand forward with a blast. He’s caught off guard and knocked back as she jumps into the air, catching it again and flying down at him. “Grimm reaper!” She cries out as she flies past him, swinging the scythe blade down across his middle.

The technology imbued in the scythe activate at the contact, sucking the ghostly energy into the blade with the strike. Spinning it around she collapses it back into the other form, trapping him inside. “That was awesome!” She cries out gleefully while spinning in flight.

“Go Ruby!” Yang calls, coming out of hiding.

“Did you guys see that?” She asks, seeing Yang, Weiss, and Blake walking toward her.

“Weiss and I just caught the last part.” Blake says, “It was cool.”

“So that’s the new ghost catcher you came up with.” Weiss says.

“Yep.” Ruby says, “Worked with dad to finish it. Pretty cool huh?”

“Super cool.” Yang says.

“It’s certainly going to work better than luring them back to the portal.” Blake says.

“Speaking of which.” Ruby says, deactivating her powers, “Let’s get this guy back.”

“Good idea. After that, bed.” Yang says.

“We do have class tomorrow.” Weiss says.

“I’m just tired.” Ruby says, “I had to get hit with a stick.” She complains as she leads the way back.

“At least we took one out.” Blake says.

“Yep, now just to see what we face tomorrow.” Yang says.

“We’re going to do this more often aren’t we?” Weiss says.

“Yep.” Ruby says, “I always wanted to be a hero after all.”