#“a ghost resembling one they knew in life followed by three spirits a pretty good explanation!”

[lunammoon]

Emmrich is very much a "tried to explain a complicated necromantic principle to you in detail and then explaining the complicated necromantic principles required to understand that explanation and by then end (whether you want to or not) you will understand whatever thing he's talking about.

Meanwhile Ezra will give a quick and very dumbed down explanation that's not technically 100% accurate but it's enough to get across whatever idea they're trying to explain about.

[alluringjae]

[ 23:45 ] ⮕ END   

part of my collection of cookie cuts from all i do is wait

in order to understand, read the main story first here.

pairing: ghost!doyoung x female!reader

genre: angst, sum fluff if you really squint

warnings: death, grief

author’s note: someone asked me how i would interpret this scene, so here it is. this hurt A LOT. have fun though!

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Mid-1953

At long last, the Korean War has ended after 3 years.

Over 5 million people dead, and to be one of the lucky survivors was a miracle.

The remaining soldiers who’ve fought through it all could return home, whilst civilians can properly rebuild all that was devastatingly destroyed in their cities. Their own normal lives included.

The fiercest 3 years of your life must you say, too engaged with self-studying your history books saved pre-war while dealing with the bargaining stage of your grief towards Doyoung. Every day, you couldn’t go on without overthinking the what-ifs. On top of that, your toddler Areum was at the stage where she loved creating a mess on the walls with her crayons. No matter how many times you’ve corrected her because it wasn’t your house, she continued anyway.

Now, she’s full-blown crying after you confiscated them and you’re on the verge of it. Thankfully, your mother stepped in to take her out for a walk in the neighborhood so you could unwind for a bit.

Since news broke out that the war ended, everyone from every street cheered and danced on the streets. You hailed with praise along with them, positive that things were going to get better. Yet deep down, you’ve selfishly wished that he was one of the lucky few to come home.

If only you didn’t chicken out so easily after he told you he was enlisting so you had a few more seconds with him.

If only you compromised him to join another field.

If only you told him about Areum earlier so he could go home.

These thoughts revolved your mind the most, instantly getting you to break down wherever you were. Even photos of him and you together were enough to tear down your walls. So, they remained hidden until the day you’re in a much better state of mind.

Dear god, you longed for him. Everything that consists of him.

In hopes to forget this tremendous loss in your life, you poured hot tea in a cup and started on this new book from this ongoing series, The Chronicles of Narnia. Getting it during this harsh period was tough, bartering it with old books you’ve owned in the market.

Fully preoccupied in the fantastical universe, flipping the pages quickly, you almost missed the continuous knocking on your door. You let out a tiny gasp and made your way to the entrance. As delusional to think it was Doyoung, you knew it wasn’t your mother and Areum either because they would’ve simply walked in. Opening it anyways, you were met by two young tall men. One had a bandage on his cheek while the other had a cast on his right arm. Noting their growing hair, they must’ve fought in the war.

Oh, if Doyoung was one of them.

“Hello, may I know who you two are?”

The one with the bandage spoke up, bowing first. “Hello, I am Lee Taeyong and this is my friend, Kim Jungwoo. We were good friends of your late lover, Kim Doyoung.”

Late lover.

Haven’t heard that since people in the neighborhood gossiped about your taboo pregnancy, but it’s not like they knew anyways. But from the letters exchanged with Doyoung before, he talked about these two highly. Whenever there were times of ease while serving, Doyoung was always up to mischievous things with these two. In a situation where they had to man up, they brought out his inner child.

“Oh, yes! Doyoung used to talk about you two in his letters, but I had no clue how you guys looked.”

By instinct, you invited them inside for tea by the patio. You’ve always wanted to meet them despite the circumstances. Bringing in a tray with a teapot and treats, mostly you were inquiring about their lives. Aside from knowing their positions in the team, you learned of their new plans moving forward.

“I want to return to university to finish my studies in mechanical engineering, maybe travel the world too.” Jungwoo stated, blowing on his cup before sipping it. He’s said to be an organized man according to Doyoung, always cautious of his surroundings. It balanced out his liveliness.

“Me too! I want to complete my major in finance, then marry my childhood sweetheart after a few years.” Taeyong expounded, his round eyes glowed in wonder. He must’ve been looking forward to this day, and you were content for him. Meanwhile, it processed to Taeyong what he said, realizing that it may have been insensitive.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He burst out instantly. “I got stuck in my feelings there.”

“It’s okay, nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

“I do think we should feel worried about you though.” Jungwoo interrupted, sighing heavily. “What happened with Doyoung-hyung all those years ago, we’re really concerned for you especially.”

At the mention of the painful memory, this wasn’t the right time to crumble. You weren’t capable to show your vulnerability to anyone but yourself. Plastering a wrenching pretend smile, “I appreciate the concern, truly. But I’ll be okay again. I’m planning to return to university too, then proceed to law school. A shared dream of mine and his.”

Taeyong and Jungwoo transparently viewed you like glass, coping with the grief of it. They were on the same page as you, and unaware to you, they knew his final words. With their interpretation, it only felt right to reach out to you. Befriend you, aid you in any possible way.

At the end of the day, three of you equally shared the suffering over the death of a loved one.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the front door creaked open followed by a tiny, high-pitched voice squealing.

“We’re home!” Your mother shouted.

“I’m at the patio, we have guests over!” You replied, pouring more tea for the two quiet boys.

From such a low-spirited atmosphere only did it liven up when an energetic Areum came into your setting. She had pigtails this time, satisfying herself with fresh bungeo-ppang from the neighborhood. No matter what you’re feeling, it took a single glance of her with her small moon-like eyes to recharge you.

“Mom, who are your friends here?” She pondered cluelessly.

The two boys exchanged looks at each other first, then to you in one breath. Their expressions of perplexity by how one’s hand was on their mouth and the other boy couldn’t stop staring at Areum, you identified exactly what they were thinking of.

“Areum, these are your dad’s friends in the army.” You animatedly confirmed. “The one with that tiny bandage on his face is uncle Taeyong, and the one with the white cast is uncle Jungwoo.”

Doyoung’s death was already so heavy to take in, but upon discovering this hidden surprise, Jungwoo wiped his tears on his sleeve. But you were fast to hand him some tissue. He was younger than you, so your older sister instincts kicked in.

“This is unjust, (Y/N).” He murmured across you so Areum won’t pick up his words. Your lips pressed against each other, maintaining a straight face at him. He was right.

With Taeyong, his arms spread out wide for the small girl who willingly walked to him. He loved children, having a nephew back home. He caressed her smooth hair down to her jaw. The first thing he distinguished was her pretty eyes followed by her squishy cheeks, resembling so much of his late friend.

“You’re so pretty, Areum. Did your mom tell you that you mirror so much of your dad?”

“Yes, she does! But I’ve never met him and I don’t when I will, uncle Taeyong.”

A tragedy how the splitting image of his best friend doesn’t see what everyone sees. But again, she’s only 3 and she can only process so much. She doesn’t know the real truth behind her father’s location, except that he was working far, far away. There are days she’d ask if he’d come back soon, yet your only response is not now. This isn’t the right time for her purity about life to stain.

“Well Areum,” Jungwoo gathered his senses again, crouching down to her level. “As his friends, we know that you look just like him! Prettier even.”

“Really? Tell me more about him, uncle Jungwoo!”

It’s about time someone else shared stories about your late lover because yours was short-lived. It’s even more intriguing to listen to what other people have to say about Doyoung that weren’t his parents. Some stories told by Taeyong and Jungwoo were new to you too, giggling along to their ridiculousness when they’re not training or fighting. Loving their presence, you invited them to stay for dinner with your family, which they couldn’t reject.

What started as a tense conversation transformed into a heartwarming experience. These two boys earned a spot in your life, aspiring for longtime friendships with them. The tender way they cherished for Areum like they’re own after meeting for the first time, it’ll fill in bits of her void. In exchange, they insisted to chip in for you and her lives so it wouldn’t be just you and your family. Struggling already with the consequences of the war, it only felt proper to do so.

“Doyoung has always been there for us, now let us return the favor and be there for you and Areum.”

Your protests were deemed useless, so you allowed them to do so. Once you finished law school and take the exams, you could pay them back. It’s phenomenal how Doyoung’s good influence towards others multiplied even after his passing. Maybe if you began to view things this way, you’d recover sooner. Although he’ll always be in your thoughts, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as it is now.

For now, you’re just going to enjoy the bliss Taeyong and Jungwoo brought, retelling old tales of a drunk Doyoung on the dining table.

From behind your garden fence in secret, Doyoung secretly observed as his treasured companions interacted at last with positivity. His only daughter mirroring his adored smile, he lived in that moment vicariously through her.

What a good time to visit today, truly.

[lilacerull0]

LITTLE WOMEN FANFICTION

CHAPTER 2, PART 1: INVISIBLE STRING

Horizons and Sunsets

 

"Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs"

- invisible string, Taylor Swift

Concord, Massachusetts, 1868

 

Rays of sunshine playing on her skin. Soft grass under her fingers. Little specks of dirt scattered across her face. Leaves tangled up in her hair. It's not a common happening to be able to see yourself in such a way. A way that makes it seem like you are not you, but somebody else wearing somebody else's clothes, guarding somebody else's heart, owning somebody else's thoughts. Like you are only an observer, a background noise in your own life. These descriptions are usually used in unpleasant connotations, usually as metaphors, usually as another way of saying you feel transparent, forgotten and small. But in Jo's case, the phenomenon is not even a tiny bit metaphorical. Maybe it's the impact of the books. Maybe it's her imagination. Maybe it's just her. Whatever it is, Jo has always been able to see her life as a theatre piece, herself an audience member, her past self, no matter how far back she might travel to reach a certain memory, a performer.  And Jo craves those moments of remembrance. She craves the feeling of transparency. She craves to exist less.

 

Everything she remembers, she remembers in flashes. Her memories do not understand concepts such as "chronology" or "order". Her brain resembles an unsolved puzzle. Every piece of information she has makes sense. But when to be put together with another aspect of her being, it does not fit. Nothing about her ever seems to fit. And now, she doesn't fit within herself.

 

No, Jo March is not a puzzle. Puzzle, no matter how difficult and complex, can be put together.

 

She's a living breathing contradiction.

What else to describe the utter ridiculousness of her mind? She is not happy and she is not sad. One second she is completely content with her life, the other, she is not. She wants to receive love, love and love, but she is afraid to offer it.

 

When Josephine March loves someone, she does not tell them. She does show, but never tells. She never uses the famous simple phrase. Never not once.

 

Her best friend burns for the people he loves. Jo burns for them in secret.

 

And here, as she is seeing herself splattered in sunlight, Jo March is preoccupied with three actions of extraordinary importance.

 

One is chasing ghosts.

Other is rearranging thoughts,

Final is accepting sunsets.

 

***

 

Paris, France, 1868

Theodore (yes, he is "Theodore" now) is not exactly sure where he is or how did he get there. His vision is blurry and his body feels heavier than usual. What is fascinating about his situation is the fact that consuming certain "substances", (and substances being of alcoholic nature), were supposed to prevail him from feeling like this. From feeling the way he's been feeling his entire life. Like everything around him was frozen and he was the only one moving. He was just too fast, too warm, too different. Enormous in emotion, reckless in thought. All of this often led to conclusions too horrific to comprehend, so he tried to avoid thinking.

The thought of having too many emotions might be terrifying. But the thought of having too much love for everything and everyone but himself was rather paralyzing. It was ridiculous to expect anybody to feel with as much passion as he did. It was ridiculous to demand such a thing from people. Why would anyone put all of their energy into someone else when there were so many things to be done in the world? But those other things rarely sparked an interest in him. Adventures, boarding schools, trips and experiences seemed irrelevant and hollow unless they were intended to be shared. It's funny how he always craved the one thing he never had. And when he finally got a glance of the love he so desperately wanted, he lost it because of his stupid absurd annoying emotions.

When Theodore Laurence loves someone he does not tell them. He screams it until his lungs are on fire.

 

His best friend loves with her whole entire heart. He loves with his whole entire being.

 

And now, vision blurry and body heavy, Theodore Laurence finds himself preoccupied with three actions of extraordinary importance.

 

One is chasing ghosts.

Other is rearranging thoughts,

Final is accepting sunsets.

 

***

Concord, Massachusetts, 1862

 

Step one: chasing ghosts

Sand beneath her bare feet. Water. Silent whispers of the sea. Birds. Colors. Nothing. Everything. Oh, to be crafted in such a way to believe you shall always be sixteen and silly and reckless and real. That is how Jo feels right now. Real. Right here, observing, enjoying, doing nothing but existing. And the sea! So mystical and wide, appearing endless in its presence, it looks like something in possession of a dream rather than this time and place. And the best part of this? Her family. They all resemble a painting in their natural messiness. Amy with her hair half wet, positioned in a way she believes to be ladylike, smiling at the horizon, sketchbook in hand. Meg, holding her hat so that it doesn't leave her in its desperate wish to follow the wind, shoes untied, eyes glistening from laughter she experienced seconds before. Beth, oh sweet Beth, kneeling by the water, touching the shining surface, mouth moving as though she is singing to the sea itself. Teddy is by her side, like he always is, sitting with his eyes closed, head held high up to the sky. He would probably refer to his current position as a way to "suck out all the marrow out of life", which always sounded a bit inappropriate coming from his mouth, but Jo loved the symbolism of the phrase, so she decided to put her friend's foolishness to the side.

 

"Isn't it simply ethereal, dearest Teddy?"

 

"Yes, I did indeed think my face had a particular glow to it this morning, your kind remark is very well appreciated, Miss March" came a teasing response shortly followed by a light smack to the arm (because Jo, being an experienced bookworm, always had a book weapon down her sleeve).

 

"Oh Teddy, you're such a boy sometimes. I find it quite disappointing really." said Jo being perfectly aware of the effect the comment might cause. Teddy shot her a look of a supposedly hurt individual, put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly, as though he was a character in a Shakespearean tragedy. Jo rolled her eyes at the glamorous gesture, but pretty quickly, her features were changed with a thoughtful expression. She turned her head to Teddy timelines after, only to be greeted with a no longer playful, but a reassuring smile. He knew her too well.

 

"You know, it doesn't make it any less beautiful. The fact that it's all going to end one day, I mean. Quite the opposite actually."

 

She does not answer that. She gets up from the ground and extends her hand to him.

 

"If it's going to end, we might as well suck all of the existing marrow out of it."

 

"Oh, what a wonderful choice of words, dearest Jo!" he exclaims theatrically while gladly accepting her hand

 

"Oh, what a wonderful life, dearest Teddy."

 

And with that, they run to the sea, their lungs almost too full, smiles almost too big. Spirits almost too free.

 

 

Childhood is a thing of dreams.

 

 

Concord, Massachusetts, 1863

 

Step two: rearranging thoughts

 

Trousers under skirts. It's scandalous. Scandalous and inappropriate. At least that's what society will label it as. And society loves labels. But Laurie finds a solace of sorts in his friend's choice of clothes. He isn't sure how to explain it (he is not as good with words as Jo is), but it's comforting to see someone be so unapologetically themselves, whoever that person might be. He tells her this one day because he's Laurie and he isn't familiar with the concept of "silencing your emotions".

 

"Teddy, don't flatter, I told you I do not enjoy nor support such doings. You might as well go practice your gentlemanly manners on Amy, I'm sure she will accept your words of so called admiration with much more enthusiasm than yours truly." says Jo, her voice a tiny bit too loud, her thoughts meeting the outside world in grave speed. Laurie often finds himself wondering how one speaks with so much passion and rush, it's like Jo's sentences are running instead of flowing. She shares her mind without looking at him, her hands busy with rearranging the dining table previously covered with Amy's unfinished drawings and Beth's beloved dolls.

 

"I meant what I said, Jo. But since you believe I'm incapable of offering sincerity, I shall escort myself out."

 

He gets up from the place he was sitting at and rushes out of the March house, leaving his waistcoat behind him. Jo knows better than to follow him right away. She will bring him the forgotten object later, once he's ready to start unravelling burdens.

 

 

***

 

Night.

 

Light.

 

 

These two nouns aren't supposed to get along very well, yet here we are. Jo finds herself awake in the middle of the night, which circumstance she is no stranger to, but this time it is not her restless mind that steals her from the arms of dreamland. It's light. Jo gets up, careful not to make a noise, and looks out the window to further investigate the strange occurring. And the sight her eyes are met with is a sight so undoubtedly Teddy-like that she isn't sure if she will be able to forgive herself for not coming up with such a conclusion sooner. The house of her neighbour, who happens to be her dearest friend, is shining with what she presumes is light of about two dozen candles. The scene would've been inspiring, if not captivating, especially for a person of her making, but Jo knows Teddy and this cannot mean anything pleasant. Therefore, she decides to pay her fellow pirate a visit, armed with a forgotten piece of clothing as a faithful enough excuse.

 

Proud of herself for avoiding all the obstacles successfully (and the obstacles being sleeping family members who have yet to be introduced to the pleasures such as "sleepless nights" or "windows"), Jo runs to the construction once known as a house, now as a gothic castle and knocks. Her efforts are answered with a voice of not a person, but a peculiarly human like ghost.

 

"Who is it?"

 

"Do you really think I will dare share information of an importance so big, oh so grand, without seeing your face, kind sir?" says not Jo, but a righteous, noble knight, his devotion as admirable as amusing.

 

Laurie opens the door only to be met with a grinning Jo.

 

"I believe you have forgotten this, my friend."

exclaims an unlike lady, kneels down and offers him his waistcoat in a way so grandiose, some might think she actually was a knight in shining armor, sharing sunlight, providing hope.

 

"Don't be a goose Jo" came a gentlemanly response followed by an annoyed sound and indifferent expression. Laurie turns around, but leaves the door wide open. Jo, understanding the message quite well, follows him inside to a candle lit room. Laurie approaches the piano and sits down as though he is about to start playing the instrument, but he doesn't confirm the logical assumption. Instead, he closes his eyes and remains like that for what feels like eternity, looking like a human statue. It would've been comical if it were anybody else, but Jo was familiar with Teddy's passion for extravagance. His behaviour does not spark laughter, but concern.

 

"Teddy, I think you should start explaining whatever it is you need to explain. Keeping it in won't do anybody any good despite you believing it will. I promise, you won't be a burden."

 

Laurie shifts in his position and exhales loudly, his eyes still closed. When he starts to speak, his voice is not his. It's distant and decorated with occasional trembles which he is desperately trying to avoid.

"When I told you today how I find solace in the way you carry yourself and how you wear trousers and don't care about what people think of you, I wasn't trying to mess around or anything. Sometimes... Sometimes I feel like I am not me... Like I'm not a good match for myself and I..." he opens his eyes at that, not sure if he wants to receive a response to any of the things he has just said.

 

"I am deeply sorry Jo, this doesn't make any sense, you can go, I don't know what came of me."

 

"Oh Teddy, but it does make sense! It makes so, so much sense." Jo doesn't say that like she wants to comfort him. She really seems to mean it. Their gazes meet at the exact same time, their eyes glossy (which observation they will both dismiss in immense respect to one another), their faces now beautified with soft smiles.

 

"You do realize you are wearing a night gown right?"

 

"I am not the one randomly lighting up candles, impersonating ghosts now, am I?"

"It's called dramatic effect, Jo! Dramatic effect! And keep the waistcoat, I never really liked it anyways."

***

After that day, Jo and Laurie's closets were left grieving for lost members of their separate societies. Blouses, neckties and waistcoats were introduced to the idea of travel and adventure. And even though the closets were left in grief, their owners were more than satisfied with the not so sudden change.

[goddesswritings]

peacefall - the beginning | Sam Taylor

Title: : peacefall – the beginning

Pairing: AU Ghost!SamTaylor x OC

Summary: Y/n is a writer, and her books are pretty popular. She moves into a house in the country to get away from the craziness of the city. She wants to put all her focus on her next book. Weird things begin happening in the house. She discovers she has a ghost, and he has quite a past. They begin to bond, but he begins to see that she is hiding something big from him. Something that will impact her life.

Word Count: 3k

Notes: Beware, this story contains major character death.

Also listen to the song peacefall by Purity Ring and you may be able to get some og the headspace I had when writing this.

This is an old fic that I changed to Sam. Mind you, I have not seen Amazing Stories, so this doesn’t follow the actual episode, it more like uses the likeness of Sam Taylor and makes him into an ancient Victorian character for the purpose of this ancient story of mine.

Masterlist

********

“I have no true memory of meeting my parents for the first time. Of course not, I was just a babe, but I do know that they nurtured and loved me very much. Growing up, I never once questioned their love for me nor for each other, I just knew it was there.”

Recently, you moved into a beautiful old house. It was on the smaller side, with a narrow staircase that led up to the second floor, but it was perfect. The house had to have been built over a hundred years ago. It was filled with the most beautiful wood floors and moulding. Every room had some type of dark wood lining the walls and windows. Some of the wallpaper was peeling in a few of the rooms, but that was an easy fix. There were a few other things that needed fixing in the house as well. You knew the house had seen better days but were happy to be living in it.

There were two bedrooms, the main bedroom was located next to the bathroom. It had a nice row of windows on the far wall that showed the beautiful old neighborhood the house was in, as well as a beautiful little closet. The bathroom was pretty spacious for the small home, with a white clawfoot tub in the center of the room. You were in love with that tub the minute you laid eyes on it. Growing up, you’d always wanted a clawfoot tub.

The second bedroom was located at the end of the hall. There were only two windows in that room and there were two large trees that covered the sunlight from reaching the room. This caused the room to be a bit darker than normal, but you loved it all the same. You made that room into your personal office. You’re a writer. The room was the perfect place for you to work when inspiration struck. Especially because it allowed no distractions from the outside world.

Things were finally coming together for you. Your newest book had just been published and you’d finally saved enough to live on your own. You finally felt happy. You didn't have many friends or a boyfriend, but you were happy with yourself. Living alone would be good for you. It would allow you to focus and get a lot of writing done.

The first couple of weeks were quiet and nothing ever happened in the house. It seemed perfect, too perfect. You knew a house that old had to have some sort of past and you were willing to find out what it was. You were a naturally curious person.

Maybe a month into living in the house, things began to happen. Unimportant things would go missing and turn up in a completely different room. At first, you thought you’d just been moving the stuff and forgetting where you put it, but when a book you were reading disappeared when you explicitly remembered putting it on the bedside table, you knew something was going on.

At night there would be odd creaks that you hadn’t heard when you first moved in. One night you were sure there were footsteps in the hallway, but they were gone before you’d had a chance to investigate them. You knew what you heard was not in your mind. Even with this stuff happening, you were not afraid. You grew up in a haunted house, so it wasn’t new. Things just continued to happen for the next three months and you did your best to ignore them and just live life.

You were halfway done your next book when the notes for the book went missing. That didn’t make you happy, because it meant that whatever was doing it, was an intelligent spirit. You spent the entire day ravaging the house and trying to find the missing notes.

“This is not funny!” You yelled out while sitting in the middle of the living room, the house was a mess around you. After that, you swear you heard a laugh. This spirit just wanted to piss you off. This made you want to get some background on the house.

****

You had all intentions to learn the past of the house, but life got busy. You had to make an impromptu trip a few hours away to New York to meet up with your editor and agent. Both wanted to talk about your upcoming book and what they should expect in it. You have to say a good thing about being a writer is being able to keep your identity secret. You were able to live your life normally without having to worry about being recognized, it was great. Anyway, the trip to New York lasted about a week and you couldn’t wait to return home.  

The house was quiet when you returned, eerily quiet. You didn’t know what to expect from the spirit in the house, but at that moment you were too tired to care. You were dying for a soak in that beautiful tub of yours. After placing your bags in the bedroom, you headed to the bathroom to start the tub. You filled it with some lavender bubble bath.

After the bath was started, you retreated to the bedroom to get ready. You tied up your hair up and changed into a blue silk robe. As you were headed back to the bathroom, you remembered to grab a glass of wine to help you relax. So you turned off the tub before heading back down the stairs to grab it.

Halfway down the stairs when you spotted a tall man standing in the living room. He was only there for a split second, but you knew what you saw was real. You shook your head and made your way into the kitchen. Pouring a glass of wine before heading back upstairs. Walking past the living room, you got chills, but cast it off as nothing. You made it back to the bathroom quickly and put the wine on the counter.

Just as you’d untied your robe, you heard your bedroom door close, you retied the robe and went out into the hallway. “Hello?” You expected a reply but got nothing.

You walked to the bedroom to find the door shut. When you tried to push it open, it wouldn’t budge. “What the hell. This is not funny at all.” You spoke and continued to push on the door. So you stopped and listened for any movement on the other side of the door but heard nothing.

Once again, you moved the door handle and it swung wide open, slamming into the wall. There was no one in the bedroom. Now you were beginning to get freaked out.

Shaking your head, you went back to the bathroom and started to remove the robe again. Letting it drop to the floor, you picked up the wine and stepped into the hot bath. You set the wine on window ledge beside the tub before finally relaxing against the warm porcelain of the tub. It had been a long time since you’d had the chance to relax like this. You closed your eyes and let the water relax you, you just let your mind wander.

You sipped the wine occasionally. It must have been fifteen minutes or so before you started to feel like you were being watched. Shooting up, you looked around the room, trying to find the source of the feeling, but as usual there was no one. This spirit seemed to be playing a lot of tricks.

After that you decided it was probably best that you retire to bed, because you felt like you were going crazy. Exiting the bath, you brushed your teeth, and changed into a pair of black shorts and a t-shirt. Then snuggled into your bed. You still felt like you were being watched but you pushed that aside and went to sleep.

You were sure you’d gone to sleep, but now you found yourself sitting in the living room. You were dressed up in a beautiful blue dress and it seemed you were waiting for someone. Two minutes later you heard footsteps and a gorgeous man entered the room. He was tall. If you had to guess, he was about six feet tall. He had the darkest brown hair that was perfectly set on his head. His face had a cute scruffy beard that fit him so well. Everything about him was cute and screamed innocence.

“I love that color on you, darling.” He spoke sitting beside you on the couch. His voice was attractive.

“Thank you. I knew you would love this color.” You spoke in the dream. You weren’t speaking on your own will. The words came out without permission.

“You know me all too well, my love.” The man leaned in to kiss your cheek, a light blush formed on your cheeks. “You know I love you so much, Annabelle.”

That’s not your name.

“Oh yes I do, and you know I love you.” That was when you realized that it wasn’t your voice you were hearing and the woman sitting on the couch was not you. You were now standing on the other side of the room. She resembled you a little bit, but she was not you. Her hair was a couple shades lighter than yours. Her skin a couple shades darker than yours.

“That is why I want to marry you, Annabelle. Have you given my proposition any thought?”

She smiled but there was something fake about that smile and it made you sick, “I have Sam. I have given it so much thought, but I am afraid of what my father will say. The other townsfolk. I am betrothed to Peter after all.”

A frown appeared on the man’s face, “I understand that your father’s approval means a lot to you, I really do. But don’t you want to marry out of true love, not an arranged marriage? You and I are in love and I think that is all you need to get married. Marry me Annabelle. Please?”

Annabelle didn’t smile, she looked annoyed at the man. “Sam, I cannot marry you. My father means everything to me, and I believe he knows what he is talking about when he tells me that Peter is the best for me. I am sorry, I really am.” There was no sincerity in her voice.

“Okay, I understand.” He sighed sadly, “Then I must inform you that I will be leaving town in a few days. I have a job opportunity somewhere else.”

Annabelle nodded, “I think that would be best, but I do not think you are going to get far.”

Sam looked taken back by her words, “Why do you say that?”

Something in her changed and she looked positively evil in that moment. She pulled something from behind her and quickly shoved it into his chest. It was a knife. She had just shoved a knife into the chest of a man who loved her. What?

This was seriously freaking you out.

Sam looked down to where the knife was embedded into his chest and then looked up at Annabelle. “Why would you do this? I loved you, I still love you.” His voice was soft.

She just laughed and pushed him to the ground, “I regret to inform you, my dear Sam, I never loved you. I am in love with Peter and have been since before I met you. You are just a pawn in my game. With you gone, I will be able to take everything you have.” This woman was making you sick. She dropped down to the floor beside Sam and gripped the knife. “I am not sorry for anything I did.” There was no emotion in her voice as she spoke. Before Sam could reply, she pulled the knife from his chest. “Goodbye Sam.” Those were the last words she spoke before shoving the knife into his heart.

You sat up with a start. You were absolutely terrified from the dream. That was no dream, it was a nightmare. When you buried your head into your hands, you realized you were crying. The dream scared you. You needed a glass of water. Pulling yourself out of bed, you noticed it was only four in the morning. Rubbing your eyes before getting up and making your way downstairs for water.

So, at 4:15 am, you stood in the dark kitchen leaning against the counter with a glass of water in your hand. Your mind was trying to make sense of the dream, but it could not. Why would you dream something like that? More importantly, why do you feel like that dream was more of a memory than a dream? You finished the water and headed back to bed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get back to sleep, you just kept tossing and turning for the next two hours. Finally, at 6:30am, you decided to get up and work on the book.

Once again, you headed down the stairs to make a cup of coffee. Entering the kitchen, you stopped short when you saw something on the ground. It was the missing notes for your book. You shook your head and picked them up and started to go through the notes, a loose paper fell out to the floor. It was a newspaper article.

Town’s lady Annabelle Porter marries her long-time love Peter Lockwood.

You only read the headline, but it caught your interest. Especially since the woman in your dream was named Annabelle. Was this a coincidence? You were going to put the article aside for later. Right now, you needed coffee to wake up and you would figure this out later. Preparing a big cup of coffee and some toast, you grabbed the notes taking them up to the office. Some work needed to be done today.

You hadn’t even bothered putting clothes on, you lived alone. So, here you were, sitting in your cozy little office in some underwear and a t-shirt. Inspiration stuck shortly after taking a seat in front of the computer. There was no stopping you. Well that was until a creak of the wooden floor was heard behind you. Almost like someone was standing in the room. Quickly whipping around, you found no one.

“It seems that you like playing tricks on me spirit. Thanks for giving me my notes back.” You said aloud. You weren’t really expecting a reply, so it was surprising when a voice said ‘Welcome’ out of thin air. The most striking thing was that the voice sounded so much like the man from your dream last night.

“Uhhh okay.” This wasn’t the first time in your life that you were dealing with a ghost. You’d seen and experienced them all throughout life. This was just the first time that you had an intelligent exchange with one and it did freak you out a little bit. After that, the spirit didn’t say anything else. It got really quiet, so you got back to work.

****

You worked the entire day, only taking a few breaks for the bathroom and for food or drinks. The book was starting to come along. The house really seemed to give a lot of inspiration. Secretly you hoped to have another exchange with the spirit, but he was quiet after the morning antics. If you hadn’t known better, you would think that he left the house.

It was almost midnight when you decided to drag yourself to bed. You’d had a long day of writing and were starting to feel it all. Especially since you woke up around 4am. After brushing your teeth and using the bathroom, you climbed into bed. You were hoping you would have another dream. Maybe then, you can find out why Annabelle killed Sam?

At first, you had a bit of trouble getting to sleep, there was a lot on your mind, and you kept tossing and turning. You could not stop thinking about the dream from the previous night and the man from the dream that you kept seeing around the house. Was he the one haunting the home?

Two hours later you finally drifted to sleep, only to wake maybe an hour later to your covers being pulled down. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, too tired for this nonsense tonight. Before you could say anything, something or someone touched your leg. The feeling was cold yet inviting. You weren’t scared even when you knew you should be. Whatever was there stopped touching you right as you became aware of its presence.

“I know there is something here and I would really like it if you showed yourself.” You spoke into the dark room. Waiting for an answer, you received none. Sleep was closing in, so you just let it take over. You decided to deal with the spirit later. For now, you needed sleep.

PART TWO >>

[marinette-adrien]

MischiefGod!AU

Ok, so the amazing @sidsinning came up with an amazing AU and gave me persmision to write a fanfic about it. It took me a long long time and I’m sorry for that. But finally here it is!

The lovely people who asked to be tagged: @kay-great @geminikessa @carolinaleo-blog @nadinemarie-art @ellysia-banearrow @skellingtonia @waitingfortheshadows @ink-stains-on-ceilings @crisjim @dulcetfoxao3 

Sorry if I forgot someone. Totally not intentional.

People who I saw asking for writers to write it or if someone was writting it, saying they’d read it or needed more of it, will be following this au or something along those lines: @washikook @smackthat-allonthefloor @greymouser13 @miraculousshipping @missca7astropcat @rhymeringlamb @sharkiethesharkperhaps @bridgetinerabbit @wewonmrstark3-0-0-0 @a-mahou-shoujo @thenovelartist @me4ml @inkshila @sakuramarie @parlezvousladybug @blue-peach14 @teardroplet @theunfortunatefangirl @doll-gloss @berry-loves-otome @trapqueeni @onesmolbirb @millie27love

I deeply apologize if you didn’t want to be tagged. Please ignore it. I just didn’t want anyone to feel I left them out. 

And finally I can’t start without a big shout-out to @thecaptainfandom who bore with me for three days and beta’ed the flip out of this work. It was a mess and now is readable. She deserves all the praise.

Anyways, here’s the story! Hope you enjoy. 

AO3 link

The Mischief Bride

I

Gods die too. They live and they age, even if it is slow enough to deceive time and humans. Gods live and play and sometimes, they trick and they lie. Sometimes they love and they care. Other times, they just want entertainment.

Kim, god of rivalry and fire, was one of the latter. And he got bored pretty quickly too. He was a relentless god who didn’t discriminate between humans or other gods to challenge for a competition. He had a reputation of picking random humans who were good athletes to compare his abilities to the very best of the human race.

Generations ago, the townspeople, tired of being spirited away randomly, asked for the lord of the land to make a pact with the god. Every year, they would offer a competitor, the very best of their sport, to be challenged by him, in exchange for leaving the other humans alone.

Now, every year, Marinette’s town would offer a “sacrifice” for Kim, the god of fire and rivalry. The reason they were called sacrifices instead of competitors these days was because they never came back. Nobody knew what happened to them, but people speculated that no matter if they won or lost, they ended up dying. Perhaps they perished trying to keep up with his challenges or perhaps were punished by the god’s wrath for not being able to.

The day of the sacrifice was just around the corner but Marinette didn’t have the mind to worry about it. Sure, she was in good form but was by no means an athlete, so there were very little chances she would be picked as the sacrifice, and she had better things to worry herself with. Primordially, her parents were both sick.

Autumn had brought the flu to her household and she had her hands full attending her family’s bakery and tending to her parents. Regardless, she knew no matter how much she worked, she couldn’t afford medicine for both her mother and father.

She was scared.

She spent nights alone with her thoughts, unable to sleep and just watching them breathe. She bit back tears, wondered how she could make the medicine last just a little longer, hoping that somehow, it would be enough.

II

Kagami didn’t have many friends. To be precise, Kagami had only one friend, Marinette. Since they were little, people tended to mistake one for the other because they seemed very much alike. They had the same blue hair and similar height and build. Their skin was pale and their hearts were kind.

Despite appearances, one thing that they didn’t have in common was their families. While Marinette’s parents were loving and caring, Kagami’s mother was cold and reserved. She was a proud samurai that served the feudal lord of the land, which proved to be her daughter’s downfall.

Just as her mother, Kagami was a very good swordswoman, a trait that was rare among the villagers. Almost no one around these parts dared to practice and excel at any sport because then they would be selected as a sacrifice to the god of fire and rivalry. The Tsurugis, regardless, were a proud family that had always served the royal family, and was expected to be good samurai by them.

The people started to become restless. They didn’t practice any sport for fear of becoming good enough to be selected as the new sacrifice. Due to the lack of athletes this provoked, the sacrifices started being picked between people with almost no training at all. Tired of this situation, the town demanded for the feudal lord to do something about it. The solution that was finally approved and exposed to the god by prayers and rituals with incense, came in the form of a last sacrifice in the shape of a wife.

They promised a wife who would be as powerful and athletic as she was beautiful and thus, Kagami was selected. It was a great honor for Tomoe, as the lord put it, to be able to prove her loyalty by offering her daughter.

Tomoe couldn’t afford to lose her daughter, but she couldn’t afford to lose her honor either. She looked at Kagami and felt a pang of pride and shame at the same time when the girl took the news with dignity and resignation. She only made one request: to go visit her friend one last time to say goodbye. Her mother granted her permission without protest.

To Kagami’s surprise, Marinette looked exhausted. Her eyes were red and had big purple bags under them. She was paler than usual and perhaps a little bit thinner too.

They hadn’t seen each other in a while, since Kagami’s mother didn’t usually let her out of her supervision for too long, and the catching up was sad for both parts. They both cried in each other’s arms until their eyes ran dry.

Marinette felt like she was losing three people dear to her now instead of two, and life seemed gloom and grimm like never before. Late at night, Kagami’s mother went to pick her up since her daughter hadn’t return, she was hit with the resemblance of the girls that she had forgotten, and a twisted idea was planted on her mind, making her both ashamed and hopeful at the same time.

On their way home, Kagami told her mother about what Marinette was going through and that she felt bad she couldn’t do anything to help her anymore. Selfishly, she asked her mother to help her friend in her place and to her surprise, Tomoe accepted.

The very next morning, Tomoe went to see her daughter’s friend and offered her help, in exchange for a favor.

Marinette accepted.

III

Marinette knew she was being taken advantage of, but she bit back the injustice and kept going. For her parents. She knew that when Kagami realized the scheme, she would make good of her mother promise to nurse her mom and dad back to health. She hoped her friend would forgive her for taking her place, too.

Tricking the feudal lord of the land was easy. He had never seen Kagami up close and Marinette covered her head with the wataboshi anyways, so no one would suspect a thing.

Like all sacrifices before her, Marinette walked willingly to the sacred mountain where the gods would be descending soon. Legend said that during the fifteenth day of the seventh month, gods and youkais descended to Earth to have a festival and, sometimes, to interact with humans.

For that reason, anyone who had the intention of meeting them would venture to the sacred mountain. Said mountain that was actually a sleeping volcano, the very same that would wake if they dared anger the gods.

But Marinette’s step didn’t quiver when she set foot on the holy ground. She lighted her way with an oil lamp through the misty woods of the mountain and repeated to herself that she would find her husband-to-be walking northeast, so she walked until the oil ran out. She walked until the mist grew heavy and her feet hurt, and then she walked some more. She walked until she realized the moon changed positions in the sky randomly, making her confused as to where to go. She stopped when she realized she was lost.

She dropped to the ground in defeat, feeling tired and hopeless. She rubbed her feet and wondered if she was lucky or unlucky if she ended up not meeting with the god. Probably unlucky, if her town suffered the consequences.

Then, she heard a chuckle.

It was soft and falsely sweet. When Marinette lifted her gaze looking for the source, she met a pair of olive eyes.

“A human,” said the apparition. “Are you lost?”

It was a girl with caramel colored skin and brown, long hair. She was dressed in orange from her clothes to her smile, and even though there wasn’t particularly anything wrong with her, Marinette’s gut told her something was off about the lady. When she squinted, she realized —and how could she have missed it— that the girl had the ears and the tail of a fox.

She was a kitsune, a youkai better known to be a trickster. Marinette felt alarm rise to her head, but bit her tongue to remain calm.

“I am,” she said. “Do you happen to know which way is the northeast?”

The kitsune disappeared and reappeared closer to her, to her right. Marinette stood up and followed her gaze, her uneasiness increasing. The youkai ignored her question.

“Are you, perhaps, by any chance, the god of fire’s new toy?”

She didn’t think it was wise to offer the spirit too much information, but figured that either way, there was little else she could do.

“I am this year sacrifice, yes. Would you be so kind as to point the way to the northeast, please?”

The kitsune chuckled and disappeared again.

“He’s not at his usual spot right now,” she informed, appearing right at her back. Marinette jumped to get some distance between them. “He got tired of waiting and decided to go the Ghost Festival instead”

Marinette cursed her luck. She hoped he wouldn’t be too angry because she didn’t appear and roast their village by morning.

“I can show you the way to the festival if you want,” offer the kitsune with a sweet smile. A little too sweet, perhaps.

The young baker still had reservations. She didn’t feel comfortable following a kitsune. She would probably play a prank on her, preventing her from reaching the god Kim.

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. It would be more than enough if you pointed the right way for me to follow.”

The kitsune laughed again and disappeared once more. She wasn’t in sight for a few moments and Marinette feared to have offended her, provoking for her abandon her to her luck. But the youkai talked to her once more, making herself visible again sitting on a low branch of a tree.

“It’s that way,” she said, pointing ahead.

Marinette looked to the path that the mist opened when the youkai pointed at it, still feeling uneasy. Sensing her discomfort, the kitsune giggled one last time.

“You can trust me,” she said making the gesture of crossing her heart. “I never lie.”

Having no other alternative, Marinette thanked her and sighed, trying to appease her distrust as she heard the spirit ghostly laugh disappear as she followed the path she had told her.

IV

It had been a lie, of course. Marinette kept walking until the sun threatened her with down, but she couldn’t find nor the festival nor the god. She felt stupid, gullible and hopeless but refused to give up. She swallowed her tears and kept going, not ready to abandon hope yet.

Then, she heard sobbing.

Her eyes tried looking for the source jumping from place to place around her until she finally located it. A very small, red creature kept flying around a spot near the overgrown roots of a tree. Even with her own problems unresolved, Marinette couldn’t help to stop to see if she could help.

“Hello,” she said to the creature, approaching slowly. “Are you okay?” She asked as an icebreaker.

The little spirit turned in surprise and regarded the bride she had in front of her.

“Oh, hello,” she returned the greeting politely, drying her big blue eyes with a tiny, tiny hand. “Well, no,” she admitted.

“What’s the problem?” Inquired Marinette, coming closer. She noticed that it was a kind of fairy with antennas and big black spots that made her resemble a ladybug. She didn’t recognize the kind of youkai that she was, but thought that it was perhaps a zashiki-warashi. If she offered assistance, maybe the youkai would actually help her in exchange.

“It’s one of my earrings. I dropped one of my precious earrings down this hole in the ground, but it’s too small to reach, even for me.”

Marinette approached the area the youkai was hovering over, and discovered a small hole that formed between the roots of the tree and held something that shined. It was far enough to be unreachable for the small creature or her fingers, but she gave it a thought and looked over her surroundings to find some inspiration. She ended up grabbing a thin stick and one of her hair pieces that she tied with a decorative ribbon from her outfit to make a tool long enough to reach it and pick it up with the hair piece, so in a few minutes, the earring was back to its owner.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

The little creature was beyond happy, and her happiness was contagious. Marinette laughed with her but promptly remember that she was in a predicament too.

“Hey, by any chance, would you know how I can get to the gods? I have only encountered youkais tonight.”

The spirit then seemed to become aware of the human in god territory and taking notice of her clothes, she had a feeling about what was happening.

“Oh,” she said quietly, “where you offered as sacrifice?”

“Well, yes. But it’s fine. I did it willingly. I cut a deal to save my parents, so it’s alright for the most part, I guess.”

“I see. You must have a very kind heart…” said the creature, noticing that the young lady in front of her seemed to have her motivations always in helping others, and took a like of her almost instantly.

“Marinette. My name is Marinette.”

“Well, Marinette, my name is Tikki and I can help you find the god you are looking for”

“Really? That would be amazing! Thank you!”

“Which god are you searching for? This part of the mountain is the territory of one of them, actually.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, surprised. Perhaps the kitsune hadn’t been lying after all. “Then I was in the right path, after all!”

“I can send you to him if you want, I can sense he’s close”

“Oh, thank you, thank you Tikki! That would be wonderful, you’ll be saving my life!”

Tikki giggled. “It would be my pleasure, Marinette!”

Feeling like things were finally getting back on track, Marinette saw Tikki fly around her a couple of times and then, she felt the ground disappear under her feet. She stumbled backwards a couple of steps and then fell on her butt.

She sat up and lifted the wataboshi to inspect her surroundings and was immediately met with a pair of green, mischievous eyes.

“W-where am I?” Asked Marinette disorientated.

In front of her was a young man with golden hair wearing a montsuki. Similar to the previous youkai, he had a pair of black cat ears crowning his head. Unlike the previous spirit, though, she could feel a different aura from him. It felt old and dangerous. He wasn’t a youkai, he was a god.

His eyes gleamed with excitement when he saw her and he showed her a smile full of teeth and untold secrets.

“You’re in the Sacred Mountain, girl. In our territory, to be precise.”

Marinette then took notice of the small black creature floating close to the god’s head. It had green eyes too and was similar in size to Tikki, if not a little bigger. Much like the god beside him, he resembled a cat.

“Oh. Are you the god of fire?” She asked, composing herself.

Both of them interchanged a look and then smiled down to her.

“Why, yes. Yes I am. And who are you, pretty lady?”

She jumped to kneel in front of him, suddenly assuming a formal posture. The most important part was yet to be accomplished. She had to make sure that the god accepted the new pact.

“I am Marinette! And my people begs for you to take me as a wife as a last sacrifice, as our prayers had supplicated in the name of your clemency!”

There was a moment of silence, and neither the god nor the creature said a thing.

“Your people thought that getting the god of rivalry, the very one that likes to challenge anything that moves to an athletic competition, a wife, would solve the problem?”

Put it that way, Marinette recognized that it sounded kind of moronic but she was just trying to help her people, especially her parents, and following orders.

“Please,” she said quietly having no other argument.

He looked at her and found nothing but sincerity in the form of big, expressive eyes, pleading and impossibly blue.

The god’s heart jumped on his chest without his permission, making him feel a weird tug on his heartstrings. Usually, if it wasn’t funny, he was not interested, but there was something about this lady that felt odd, though not in a bad way.

“She smells… like luck,” said his companion, getting close to her and giving her a sniff, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Well, then I guess it’s your lucky day, pretty lady. I’ll take your offer.”

Marinette blinked.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he extended a hand to her, to help her stand up. “Yes. It was wife day after all, wasn’t it Plagg?”

“Yes, yes it was!” smirked the little black fairy-like-creature.

Marinette admitted to herself that indeed she ended up being pretty lucky, successfully achieving her goal to reach the god and convince him to take her as a wife. She extended her hand to take his and he grasped her in a tight grip. He pulled her to her feet and a red string tied their wrists together. The ribbon shined and popped, disappearing into tiny sparks.

Marinette felt the ground banish from underneath her for a moment, unable to divert her gaze from his face. It was probably rude. Humans weren’t supposed to look at gods in the eyes, she believed, but couldn’t help herself. His green gaze was mesmerizing, all deep and lively and fresh as a lime. He caught her when her footing failed and gave her a wicked smile.

“T-that’s it?” She asked, catching her words. “Are you my husband now?”

The gleam in his eye sparkled with mischief.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

V

Marinette had kept going for the last couple of weeks by mere will power. First taking care of her increasingly ill parents and then of the bakery by herself. She lost a whole night of sleep after Kagami’s visit and later operated almost on automatic mode focusing only on the task she had been entrusted with. When she successfully achieved it and her worries about the village and her parents were lifted from her shoulders, it was as if the strings that had been keeping her standing and going were cut.

She remembered the god of rivalry and fire had asked her to come with him, as he was bound to return to his castle since the festivities were ending, and follow him she did. Or at least, she thought she did because now she was waking up, which meant she must have fallen asleep at some point. She didn't remember when it happened but there were a few times in her life when it did. She woke up disoriented, covered in silks, in a room she didn't recognize.

The sun was high in the sky while the last time she had seen it, it had been just rising. She looked around and she found herself in a big bed, like the ones people from other parts of the world slept in, the ones lifted from the ground. It was very comfortable and probably the reason she had slept like a baby. The room was spacious and a big balcony window let the sunlight in, painting golden rays in the dark floor and blankets.

But most importantly, she noticed, she wasn't alone.

A familiar blond head lied beside her. He was not touching her and was facing the opposite side of the window and her. His breathing was even, denoting he was asleep but when she fell off the bed in her haste, he woke up.

Marinette grimaced in pain and heard a chuckle. A pair of mischievous green eyes looked at her from above on top of the bed, paired with a playful smirk.

"Where am I?" asked Marinette.

"I carried you like a princess. You fell asleep on me on the way home.”

"Why were we on the same bed?"

"Well, I mean we're married, remember? Why wouldn't we be?"

Marinette was speechless for a moment. She tried to come up with a reasonable answer to rebutt his argument, but could only come up with none. She sat there on the hard floor letting her eyes stare into nothingness. At that moment, she was hit with the realization.

She was married. To a god.

“Are you okay?” He asked when she didn’t say anything else.

“No,” came the immediate answer. She was a little overwhelmed.

He had the nerve to chuckle again. Marinette recomposed a little to glare at him, but he just stretched, completely unimpressed. He looked like a cat perched in a tree looking down at her like that and she could almost picture him swaying a tail contently.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out.

“We are in my castle of course, princess. Your new home. Or should I call you queen?”

“Queen?”

He crawled out of the bed towards her, never losing his smile. Something in him screamed “danger” but something else locked her in place and made her heart race. He kept getting closer and closer until she could feel his breath on her face.

“Queen of Fire and Rivalry. Queen of everything that I reign of. My Queen.”

He took her left hand, the one he had taken when the invisible ribbon tied them together, and kissed it without dropping her gaze. She blushed. He was very attractive.

She noticed then that the ribbon had left a mark like a bracelet on her wrist, a remainder of their pact.

“Or would you like to be the Queen of something else?”

He was teasing her, she knew, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. She was just a sacrifice. She had ventured the mountain, giving up on her future so her parents could have one. She was ready to die trying or live like a prisoner in a loveless marriage. She never thought she would look at her husband and blush. She never thought that he would call her his queen, sharing his rein.

Perhaps, she thought, gods didn’t think so little of humans. Perhaps she was starting to feel truly lucky, and not just by being able to save others. Perhaps she wasn’t doomed. Perhaps she didn’t hate her situation anymore.

“Your queen is fine” she said, quietly.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly not expecting an honest response.

“Your queen is fine,” she repeated, letting a smile tug at her lips this time.

Slowly, he returned the smile and for the first time, it wasn’t mischievous or teasing. It had something in it that reminded Marinette of tenderness and hope.

VI

Marinette followed him to the dining room, where a banquet was expecting them. The little black creature that accompanied the god the night before was already filling his mouth with cheese. He introduced himself as Plagg and then proceeded to explain to her that he was a kwami. Every god had one following them around who shared the nature of the god powers. They were the companions of the gods.

She discovered Plagg loved cheese as much as he loved teasing Kim, and that the blond pretended to be deeply offended if the tiny creature dismissed his puns but Plagg had worst on his repertoire, if she was honest. They seemed to be very good friends.

She didn’t pay much attention to their banter once she focused on her meal though. Now that she thought of it, she hadn’t eaten in almost a day and even before that, her meals had been frugal thanks to her lack of appetite. The table in front of her was filled with delicious fruit, cheese, seeds, tea and wine so she helped herself to seconds of everything. She ate until her belly couldn’t fit one more bite.

Shortly after breakfast, Kim excused himself, saying he had some business to attend to, but that he would be back in a few hours.

“You can familiarise yourself with your new home in the meanwhile, my queen,” said her new husband with that mischievous smile that she was learning to recognize as the one he almost always wore. “If you need something, just ask for it and it shall be given to you.”

He stole a kiss from her cheek and then he was gone with his kwami before she could ask to who she could ask for her hypothetical needs.

So she finished her breakfast and decided she would follow his advice and explore the castle. She spent the next couple of days wandering around its hallways, which were empty for the most part. The palace was made of stone and has long staircases that led from one floor to another several times. It was huge and a little lifeless, with dark marble walls that gave the palace the appearance of being cracked. It reminded her of the European fairytale like castles, where invisible servants would tend to the inhabitants from the shadows.

The god of fire and rivalry disappeared everyday by the afternoons, but always returned to have their meals together, which Marinette had to admit, was nice. He was a bit of a dork with a bad sense of humor that never failed to pull a smile out of her nonetheless. As the days pass, she learned that his jokes and bright smiles hid a lonely, old soul underneath the youthful appearance.

During her exploration around her new home, she discovered that everything was… raw, in a sort of way. The bed was covered in linens and silks, but they were just fabric instead of blankets. The walls were bare of paintings or any kind of art, and even the furniture, despite being indeed luxurious and made of high quality woods and materials, was simple and minimalistic.

Even their meals were simple. Their table was always full of delicious fruit, vegetables, meat, fish, grains, seeds, milk, honey, cheese and bread but they were all fresh or cooked very simply. There was plain bread but never pies or cakes. There was meat but never stew. The fruit was always fresh and clean but never in a dessert. When she asked him about it, he shrugged.

“It’s because I’m the god of…” he stopped, with the chopsticks midway to his mouth.

“Fire,” said Plagg, giving him a funny look. “He’s the god of fire and sometimes he burns his own stuff by accident. The servants are not good at crafts and that’s why the castle is what it is”

“You burn stuff by accident?” asked Marinette, alarm in her voice.

“No,” said he quickly. “Well, sometimes, I guess. But it hasn’t happened in a long, long time, has it Plagg?” He glared at his kwami.

The Kwami agreed dismissively, getting back on his cheese, and the subject was quickly diverted after that.

After that incident, Marinette took it to herself to make something of the materials that were scattered around the castle. She made actual blankets for the bed and found the kitchen to cook when she could. She made quiches and cookies and dumplings. Bread, of course, she always baked because old habits die hard.

The first time Kim got home to a table full of dishes, he had a bewildered expression on his face. He didn’t stop singing her praises when he discovered that she made something new everyday. Not only food, but the palace was suddenly beginning to feel like a home. The windows had curtains and the bed had actual blankets. Suddenly there were cushions on the chairs and an amazing smell of bread in the air at lunchtime.

“You’re amazing, Marinette,” he’d whisper every night before falling asleep while holding her hand, and she’d felt a tingling in her heart at the tenderness of his voice.

The only thing he did was hold her hand, but she found herself snuggling closer and closer with every moonrise. He never asked for a consummation of marriage, but she didn’t know how god-human marriages worked. She already felt very lucky to have control of his domain.

She only had to wish for something out loud or command something to be done, and as if by invisible servants, her instructions were followed. She never saw anyone outside or inside the castle, besides Kim or Plagg, but even though she appreciated the hours he gave her for herself, she started to feel lonely.

And then, she met Tikki again.

Tikki, now that she thought about it, looked just like a Kwami, but Plagg was always near Kim and if the little red creature was indeed a Kwami, Marinette wondered why she wasn’t with her god.

She had been sewing in the castle, making clothes for herself with all the pretty fabrics available in the house when her little friend appeared.

“Marinette! I was hoping to find you here.”

“Tikki! I’m so happy to see you! What are you doing here?”

“I came to visit Plagg.”

“Ah, I should have guessed you were friends. He’s not here though. But I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Would you like to wait with me?”

“I’d love to,” she said, and sat on the table Marinette was using as a desk.

“Tea and pastries for Tikki, please,” she said, and in a few moments, a trail with what was ordered appear beside the Kwami.

“I can see that you are doing well,” said her guest. “Now you manage a castle instead of being lost!” she giggled.

Marinette smiled.

“All thanks to you, Tikki. I was so lucky that I found you before the night ended. I could find my way to the god I was looking for and convince him to stop the annual sacrifices. My village is safe because you helped me.”

“You did mention your village. I’m glad they’re safe but how are you doing?”

“I’m doing better than I thought possible, to be honest,” Marinette confessed. It was easy talking to Tikki. She picked the needle once again and let herself ramble while she worked. “I feel a little lonely sometimes, but I never imagined I’d actually come to like my new husband. He’s kind and attentive. He respects my space and I think he genuinely is amazed by my cooking and sewing skills” she giggled. “He gave me power over his domain since day one and… yeah, I think I like him.”

Tikki looked at her with giddy eyes and a kind smile.

“I’m happy for you, Marinette. I knew Plagg chose well. Adrien is such a gentle soul, a perfect decision for the God of Destruction.”

Marinette went rigid.

“The god of what?”

“The god of destruction” repeated Tikki slowly, eyeing her reaction. “And mischief. And misfortune.”

Who, now?

Marinette looked at her friend like she had just slapped her.

“But… but… no. His name isn’t Adrien. He is Kim, the god of the sun, rivalry and fire! The one who would melt my land with the volcano if there isn’t an annual sacrifice!”

But her memory was bombarding her with all the times he had almost slip. The times Plagg and him would send each other furtive or disapproving glances, as if trying to keep a secret from being revealed.

“Oh. Oh, no Marinette,” said Tikki, with heavy realization. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. You were on the territory of the god of destruction, misfortune and mischief when I found you. I should have asked for clarification.”

“No, but.. but he said so himself! He is Kim, god of fire; not… not…”

“Adrien?” asked the voice she had learn to miss on her afternoons.

She turned abruptly to face him, and for the first time since she knew him, a guilty expression cast a shadow over his features.

“I am,” he said softly. “Adrien, god of destruction, mischief and misfortune. That’s me.”

There was a long pause. Tikki, who had been longing to meet with Plagg, couldn’t help but get offended on Marinette’s behalf. She flew right towards him, a big frown on her face.

“Plagg! This has your mark painted all over! Was it your idea to trick Marinette like that?”

“Well, hello to you too, cheesecake. Can see that you missed me. I didn’t know you knew the bride.”

“Plagg!”

“Ugh, I can’t talk to you when you are being unreasonable,” he said, and flew off.

“Unreasonable! I can’t believe you’d trick an innocent girl who were just trying to help her parents! How cruel can you be?” Exclaimed Tikki, following him while giving him a piece of her mind. Soon, both of them got lost in the hallways of the castle.

“It’s true, then. You are not the one who I was supposed to marry,” Her tone was calm, but her mind was racing, going through all of what that entailed. Was his kindness, the kindness that got her, fake? Was he laughing at her back while she blushed and thought that she was oh, so lucky to have such a kind and humble husband? Did he realize what he jeopardized? Her parents, her village?

Oh, her people…

What if they were already gone? What if Kim, enraged, had already burned to ashes her village while she was here playing house? She could not fathom the thought.

“Well, I… it’s true I’m not the one one you were looking for, but even gods are not free from The Fate’s domain, and after knowing you, I was hoping…”

“Hoping?” She interrupted him. “Hoping for what? That I’d forgive you? For impeding me of helping my people? My parents, who were the only reason I had to…” her voice broke. But she bit back her tears and continued. The more she thought about it, the more betrayed she felt, the more hurt she got and the more stupid she knew she had been.

“I’ve been here! Losing time, married to you! When I should have been saving my people!”

She dashed towards the door, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Let me go, I have to make sure that they… that they’re not…” she could not finish that thought.

“Marinette. Marinette, listen to me. They’re fine.”

“How can you know? They could all be dead by now. My parents, my friends…”

“They are just fine, please listen to me -”

“You lied to me! You tricked me into marrying you and to let my village to die! And for what? A stupid prank?”

“I know you are mad at me, and I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I couldn’t help it. It’s who I am. I am the god of mischief.”

He probably should try to excuse himself after he explained, he realized. Marinette turned to him and pushed him hard. He stumbled back and she kept throwing her fists in his direction.

“The god of mischief! And destruction! Very well played! You destroyed everything that I care about!” She accused with tears streaming down her face. She finally collapsed to her knees and started sobbing.

“Marinette, please listen. They are fine.” He said softly, kneeling beside her. He wanted to touch her but noted that perhaps it wasn’t the best of ideas.

“How can you know?”

“Because I have been going to visit Kim everyday. I don’t really need to leave the castle to do my godly duties. And even if I did, I’m sure the world would do just fine without cataclysms for a few weeks. Or years.”

“You went… to Kim?” She asked, perplexed. She wasn’t following completely, but figured she could at least trust that her village was still intact.

“Yes, I went to offer him a deal. If he gave up this year sacrifice, then I’d be his challenge buddy for the next decade. No questions asked, every time he wanted. Turns out he has been challenging me to play various sports every day. I hope the novelty passes after a few months, but I’ll still have to accept his challenges for the next ten years,” he grimaced.

“He… gave up the sacrifice?”

“Well, not exactly. Since you were supposed to be the last one, I could only buy you a chance. He’ll challenge you to a match. If you win, he’ll revoke the sacrifice policy off your village. If not… well, you’ll be his challenge buddy, like the rest. And your village would have to send another every year, like before.”

“Wait. The rest?”

“Yeah, every single one of the previous sacrifices are alive. They live in his domain now. They have to accept every challenge he asks of them, but they have good lives. With all the luxury a human blessed by the gods could expect.”

It was a little too much information for Marinette to handle. She needed a moment.

“So everyone is alive? All of them?”

“Every single one of them,” he smiled.

Marinette felt so relieved that she almost hugged him and thanked him, but she held herself back.

“You still lied to me.”

“You’re right. It was a stupid prank that got out of hand, but I did my best to make it harmless. I’m also giving you an opportunity that none of the others had: a chance of freedom. Would you… accept that as an apology?” He asked hopefully.

With all that he’d done to take the danger out of the situation… it was indeed a harmless prank from his point of view, she guessed. Except that she was tricked into marry the wrong guy.

“You still tricked me. To marry you.”

His smile, ever changing, was a little sad then.

“I tricked you into believing that we’re married,” he said.

He took her hand again. The one he held in their sleep and the one that had the binding bracelet painted on her skin.

“This is just a mark that shows you as a blessed-by-the-gods human. It’s not a marriage contract. I can easily remove it, if you want. I thought that perhaps it would give you at least a little of an advantage in the upcoming match, but… perhaps coming from me,  the God of misfortune, you’ll want it removed.”

“So you’re saying that we’re not married?”

“No.”

“Oh,” for some reason, she felt a little empty.

“When were you going to tell me?”

He made a pause, uncomfortable.

“Ten years?” He tried.

“Adrien!” She reproached. It was the first time she said his name and a little magic mingled in the air, like every time you said a god’s name out loud in their presence. She realized that she had been sharing a home with one of the two most powerful gods that there were. And he was kind of a goofball. And sweet. For a god of destruction, of course.

“Sorry! I’m kidding. I was planning on telling you the very next day, when I made the arrangement with Kim. But when I came back… you were wearing the kimono I picked for you and you made the most delicious bread I have ever tasted, and… you smiled. You didn’t seem bothered by being here, with me. And… I guess I wanted to pretend for a little longer.”

There was a pause. Marinette realized he had mentioned Kim had a kingdom. Perhaps the other gods did too. Perhaps his land was empty because no one wanted to pray to the god of destruction and misfortune. Perhaps his castle was built with raw materials because everything broke in his presence. Perhaps “everything” included his relationships with everyone else too.  

“I can challenge Kim whenever I want?” She asked after meditating it for a moment.

He nodded.

“Well, I’ll be challenging him tomorrow, then,” she declared firmly.

He sighed.

“I’ll take you there.”

“And,”

He looked up at her face. She averted her gaze.

“And if you’d have me… I’d like to come here. And pretend for a little longer. If you want.”

VII

Kim was nothing like she imagined him. He was goofy instead of mighty and gave the impression of not being too bright. Yet, just like Adrien, he had a youthful appearance and that aura that Marinette was learning to recognize as one that outlined the gods.

The real Kim’s Kwami was a little monkey that, much like his companion, was extravagant and playful, pure chaotic energy. He fluttered around him non-stop, apparently unable to stand still for more than a minute. When Adrien and Marinette entered the Chinese-style palace to meet their king, they found the owner and his Kwami immersed in a childish fight that included faces, grimaces and stuck out tongues, provoking each other like little kids.

They had been waiting for them on the palace throne room, but didn’t notice them when they arrived. Adrien cleared his throat to announce their presence and the pair turned in their direction, their attention effectively redirected.

“Hello, there. I see you were expecting us, so I’ll cut the formalities short. Kim, this is Marinette.”

"Ah, finally!” He exclaimed, not seeming to care much for said formalities and jumping from his throne to have a closer look at his guests. “I was starting to get bored of always challenging the same people. Tell me, girl, what are you good at? What challenges can you offer?”

"Not so fast," Marinette interrupted. Kim stopped and looked at her raising a brow. She bit her lip fearing that she overstepped by being rude, but Adrien squeezed her hand beside her and she continued. “I need confirmation first. Adrien says if I win, I can be free, do I have your word?”

Kim gave her a smirk.

“Of course” he promised. “If you win”.

He eyed her critically. Marinette knew that she didn’t look so much of an athlete. She was small and skinny, but he’d be disappointed if he thought she would abandon so easily.

“I’ll even let you pick the challenge, just so you see that I’m a just god,” he promised and promptly dropped to the ground to start a warm up. He looked eager to start.

Marinette tried to think of a sport she could have a chance with, a frown on her face. Adrien looked at her and squeezed her hand one more time. When she met his eyes with her own, he gave her an encouraging smile.

“You’ll be just fine. I have faith in you. You are amazing, Marinette. I’m sure you can win.”

She smiled back and nodded her head. Adrien and Plagg stepped aside and watched her form the lines.

“You’ll do good, Marinette,” said Tikki and kissed her cheek. “For luck.” Then, she flew to join the unlucky pair.

Marinette turned her attention once again to the god of rivalry and fire, trying to think of an option that would allow her to win. She thought that he might not get along with water, being the god of fire, and perhaps challenging him to a swimming competition would be a viable idea, but it was very obvious. Surely others would have previously challenged him to a swimming competition without success. As Adrien had told her, Kim always won in every competition he had suggested.

If only shōgi was a sport she might have suggested it. Looking at Kim, he looked more on the side of impulsiveness rather than on the analyzing side. She had a strong pair of arms due to all the kneading and lifting and carrying sacks of flour, but nothing as near as a god’s strength. She didn’t want to test his endurance either because Adrien once told her that he didn’t need much sleep, but it was nice and relaxing to lay on bed. He supposed Kim would be the same.

He was still doing a warm up when she lifted her eyes in his direction again. She tried to look at his body type to guess which kind of sports he had less experience with, when it hit her.

“I know which challenge I’d like to propose,” she declared.

“About time!” said Kim, jumping from the floor where he was doing squats. “Well, what is it?”

“Gymnastics” said Marinette, with no trace of doubt on her voice, despite her inner turmoil.

“Gymnastics?”

“Yes, especially flexibility.”

Kim was surprised. He had never been challenged for a gymnastics match, and despite that his Kwami was a monkey, he was only a monkey in name. He was good at climbing trees and swaying from one branch to another, but that was about it. Truth be told, he wasn’t very flexible. But how could this girl have known?

She must have seen the insecurity twinkle in his eye, because she smiled.

“Are you backing down from a duel? I have no problem by winning by default.”

“Never!” He responded immediately, like a petulant child. “I never back down from a dare!”

“Very well, then. Shall we start?”

Marinette challenged him to three different disciplines form gymnastics, and he lost all of them. First part of the challenge, he could not touch his head with his toes. For the second he couldn’t do a split and for the third, he could not even reach to grab his toes while sitting down. She won fair and square.

Plag and Tikki cheered. Adrien smiled at her and she returned the smile. After a moment, she ran to him to hug him. Despite everything, he returned to her the one thing she thought she had given up for ever, her freedom.

“Thank you”

He held her a little tighter before he had to let her go.

VIII

Marinette didn’t really go back to her village. Spirited away people were not always well received among mortals. She visited her parents in secret though. And Kagami. She told her about her adventure and how she didn’t regret it.

She also made good friends with the goddess of curiosity and investigation, who’s name was Alya. One afternoon, she told her that no youkai dared to venture the mountain during the festival of the gods. They stayed in the festival but did not wander around to interact with humans. They had no interest in them since, unlike the gods, youkai interacted with humans all the time, even if people didn’t notice.

“But then, who did I…?”

“Probably the goddess of lies. She likes to disguise herself as a youkai, especially kitsunes. Which sucks because kitsunes are the kind of youkai I reign above”.

Marinette visited her frequently, but for the most part stayed with Adrien. She thought about going to another human village or city, where no one knew her, but every time she returned to the European style castle, Adrien’s eyes lit up like a million fireflies, and her heart felt warm when he said her name. So she returned. So she stayed.

“They sure make a lovely couple,” said Plagg, voice casual, to Tikki.

“They do,” she replied, a little dreamily.

“Too bad she’s a human who’ll die too soon.”

The little red Kwami made a pause. She looked over to Plagg and saw him eating cheese without looking at her, making a show of not caring about what he was saying. She knew him too well to notice his intentions, though. He was the yang to her yin, after all.

“What? Why would you bring that up?”

“Well, she is. She’s a human. Human lives expire faster than cheese. But I think she would be a good goddess, given the chance, if you ask me.”

“I’m not.”

Plagg shrugged and kept eating cheese, but the silence was heavy with the weight of the idea implied.

“They just seem so… compatible, like you and me. The kid’s been happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

“Are you suggesting that I make Marinette the goddess of Creation?”

“Ugh, no. Wouldn’t that be awful? She’s been creating stuff since she put a foot in this place. Curtains, clothes, bread. What’s next? Furniture? As if the simplest creations of a human girl could endure the power of the mere presence of a god? Ha, no.”

Tikki knew exactly what Plagg was doing, and even if she didn’t entertain the lazy way he was using to try to get in her head, she took a moment to think. She remembered how spontaneously Marinette had created a tool to help her regain her earring, the very same piece of jewelry that helped the Kwami to give mortals the power of the gods.

If she gave Marinette the earrings… she would become a chosen one. A goddess.

“She does create a lot of things, doesn’t she?”

“I was just pointing out how well they fit” said Plagg. “It’s important that our charges do, if we don’t want things to get unnecessarily complicated. Again.”

Tikki sighed. She liked Marinette very much, and she could also read her heart as Kwamis could. She was a kind soul. She would be a compassionate goddess.

The silence stretched while she kept thinking about it. Plagg had long finished his cheese when he spoke again in a soft tone that he rarely used.

“You’ve been alone for so long…”

There had been a couple of centuries since her last goddess.

Tikki sighed, and looked in the direction where Marinette and Adrien were. They were laying on a blanket on the grass, laughing and watching the sunset. The air around them felt different. Electrified, complete. Like it usually felt when she and Plagg where near each other and in perfect harmony.

Plagg had a point. No matter how mischievous he could be, he was always serious when it came to matters of her, like her lack of a chosen one. He was always serious when it came to them.

“Let’s give them this night,” she finally said, when the sky was upon them with a million stars. “Tomorrow, I’ll ask her.”

Plagg, who was dozing beside her, smirked with his eyes closed.

“Ah, you are so easily influenced.”

“Don’t push it, stinky tabi.”

He chuckled and she smiled. She laid her head against his and closed her eyes. She knew it was a good match.

-.-

Just adding a little vocabulary in case not everyone is familiarized with traditional Japanese clothing and/or mythology:

Wataboshi: The all white hood called the wataboshi is the Shinto equivalent of the western bridal veil.  The bride wears it before and during the ceremony and is a symbol of innocence and purity.

Youkai: A are a class of supernatural monsters, spirits, and demons in Japanese folklore.

Kitsune: In the literal sense is the Japanese word for 'fox', specifically in the red fox of East Asia. Foxes are a common subject of Japanese folklore; in English, kitsune refers to them in this context. Stories depict legendary foxes as intelligent beings and as possessing paranormal abilities that increase with their age and wisdom. According to Yōkai folklore, all foxes have the ability to shapeshift into human form.

Montsuki: All black formal kimono for men. Worn in ceremonies or parties. They are also used for the martial arts, theater and very popular among artists.

Shōgi: Also known as Japanese chess.

Tabi: Traditional Japanese sock.

-.-

Well, there it is. I’m sorry if you were expecting a multichapter series and I only offer a oneshot. Also, I write fluff and made it as less controversial as posible in order to keep it one chapter long. I’m sorry if you were expecting angst. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed! I wrote it with all my heart.

[shyeehaw]

S/O dies giving birth HCs

Hello fellow cowboy lovers, I’m deeply sorry (or not, I’m into angsty stuff) about the amount of sadness there’s about to be written below. Enjoy (if you like that and all)! <3

Request: An angst HC with Arthur, Charles and Sean where their s o dies giving birth and the guys are left to raise them alone.

Arthur:

Isaac. That’s the first thing that came to Arthur’s mind when you told him you were pregnant.

She made sure to tell him the news on her favorite place: the beach.

What happened had a deep impact in his personality, and now life gave him another chance. To know better, to do better.

In the Saint Denis doctor, he learned that it still had time until the baby was born.

So he would to town with the biggest smile on his face, buying things to the baby. 

Unaware of what waited for him when he got to camp.

Arriving at camp he saw Ms. Grimshaw pale as ghost. His mind trying to make sense of things.

The baby wasn’t expected until another two more months. That’s... that’s why he was out.

He didn’t knew, he couldn’t have predicted it.

“Mr. Morgan, I’m truly deeply sorry, me and Mr. Pearson did...”, Arthur could no longer hear, the buzzing in his ears silencing those awful words.

His dreams once again turned into a nightmare.

Hearing the shaky baby’s breath nearly broke his heart.

He would look at that small, innocent boy and wonder how he would ever raise him without his partner.

Confusion and guilt would take over his mind. Thoughts so dark that he would never dare to write in his diary. Arthur did that to her, he wasn’t there.

He grew more apart from others, focusing all his time on the recovery of his baby.

The boy had some many aunts and uncles, the whole gang loved and protected him with all their hearts.

In the early years, he had no interest in hiding how miserable he was feeling.

Even though he was clumsy, Arthur managed to turn his fragile baby into a strong boy.

He made sure to tell his son how good of a woman his mother was. Always making him say her name.

The boy was very sensible, picking up when Arthur was feeling down and trying to cheer him up by doing all kinds of silly things.

His diary was his most treasured possession. When his son got a bit older, Arthur would read some parts about her.

It was really emotional, but a way to keep her memory alive.

Time is a cruel, but blissful thing. 

Blissful because with the years, Arthur could notice, without hurting so much, the resemblance between the boy and his mother.

And cruel, because he started forgetting the little details. The portrait he draw being the only thing left to compare the her with his son.

Sitting by the seashore, he would reminisce about how much she loved that place. 

“This is stupid, Y/N, but if I could just talk to you... tell you about our boy.”

He would be interrupted by the big curious eyes of that tiny little boy. “Are you talking to mother?”

Arthur would just nod, and take him by the hand, leaving some flowers on the grave just above the dunes. He knows she would love that view.

Charles

When she began go into labour, Charles was there holding her hand.

And when life began to leave her eyes, he held her hand too.

Charles had heard about that before, but he never thought he would need to experience it first hand.

And the blood...her warm blood, the blood that nurtured their baby, now was everywhere.

He just kept concentrating on the baby’s cry, for her, he would just listen to that sound and get his strength from there.

“It’s a baby girl!”, said Ms. Grimshaw, holding his daughter.

But Charles could not do the same, he had no strength left to take her.

He remembers falling into the ground, the first time anyone saw him displaying such raw emotions. He would sob for minutes, without stopping.

Searching for any meaning in that, he would think of how life is always balanced, how the spirit and body were different things.

But that knowledge didn’t brought him any consolation at that point.

It took him a day or two, to go search for his baby. Abigail had been taking care of her. Charles was ashamed of being weak and not being able to see her before.

He never felt this scared in his life. His fingers were too big and rough against the baby‘s soft skin.

Charles learned pretty quickly how to take care of the girl, bringing her along when he went fishing or hunting since she was a baby.

He would strap her around his chest and go on with his chores.

The baby girl was very peaceful, much like her father. Looking at her would silence all the noises in Charle’s head.

In her first birthday, everyone threw a big party, getting the girl gifts and playing with her.

It was supposed to be a happy moment, but Charles could not forget that it also meant he had lost his love for a year now.

The thought that this would always be the case robbed him the joy to celebrate that day.

But he loved his daughter deeply, her life gave his more meaning.

Charles was a pretty patient father, teaching his girl to talk and walk, and as soon as she could, to use a bow.

A wooden carved horse was her favorite toy, her father gave it to her.

His kid would always surprise him with how smart she was beyond her years. Not only being able to read, but knowing things not even adults understood.

“I’m not sad Cain died, papa, he is not in pain anymore. Mom is with him now, right?”

Charles would take her every now and then to visit her mother’s grave, by her request.

He felt like he had a lot to learn with his kid, she didn’t felt sad, just glad to be a living part of her mother.

She grew to be such a sweet and caring girl. Who loved braiding her father’s hair.

Charles would look at her and see his own appearance mixed with the one he would forever love. It was painful, but a beautiful reminder of how life goes on.

Someday he would meet her again, but for now, his girl needed him. And he would always protect her.

Sean

When his s/o told him she was expecting a baby, Sean was helpless.

There’s no denying that at first he was terrified! Too young and too dumb, in his own words, to take care of another human being.

She got apprehensive that Sean didn’t wanted the kid, but that’s not at all what he meant.

Passed the initial shock, he got really excited at the thought of playing and being the fun dad.

A little person to teach everything he knew , all the pranks, joke, songs!

He started dreaming about the life the three of them would have. It wasn’t so scary anymore.

With his love’s scream piercing through his ears, Sean fetched Ms. Grimshaw in a blink of an eye. His heart jumping on the chest.

He never seen someone giving birth before, so he couldn’t know all that screaming wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t a regular “push” scream, something was terribly wrong.

“My chest!” she would say with her clenched fists turning white “Oh god! Please, it hurts so much.”

That’s when he noticed something wasn’t right. Kneeling beside her, he would wipe the sweat of her face.

“Love, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry Sean, you didn’t wanted this and now I’m going to leave you with” she would scream in agony “with our baby.”

“Yer not leaving me, don’t say that.”, he said with tears falling into her face. He knew it was true.

Ms. Grimshaw handed him the baby, already wrapped in a blanket.

“Look at her! Stay with us, please”

“There’s another one coming!”, Pearson shouted.

The body of the woman he loved turned pale, with a last gasp, she squeezed Sean’s hand.

It would be his last laughter in a long time. Sean was hysteric, guffawing without any emotion.

From day to night, he transformed in a whole different person. He would be restless, taking care of both babies.

He had no clue what he was doing, so everyone would help out as much as they could.

Abigail would teach him about diapers and common diseases, Arthur would watch out for the kids while Sean ate or when he fell asleep, exhausted.

Mary-Beth would entertain them with beautiful fantastic tales, they loved that auntie.

The twins were the gang’s kids. Although, Sean did the best he could, turning a bit more responsible over time.

He would focus all his, once endless, energy on his children. That way he would be too tired to think about their mother.

When they got a little bigger,Jack would play with them for hours, while Sean was out on jobs.

One time, when arriving to camp, his kids sat him down and started reading to him. It made Sean so damn proud.

“Your pa can’t read but you two can? Where did I go wrong!?” He would say, playfully.

His little girl was the most troublemaker of them. She would always be up to something mischievous.

When she pranked Micah, Sean like pretending nothing happened.

But his  boy was more like his mother, kind and pensive.

“Pa, I feel bad that mom died because of me and sister.” he would confess.

“Yer mom loved ya, and your sister! If she could choose, she would always pick you two over her. That’s how us parents are!”

But hearing his son saying that, got his facade down. Sean had been pretending for too long that he was healed from what happened.

But how could he ever move on?

By learning how to play the guitar with Javier, his son got him a bit jealous.

“Yer spoiling my kid, Javier. He just wants to spend time with you now! I’m his pa!”

He found very odd how only his daughter picked his accent up, the boy talked like Arthur and made Sean a little mad. 

Even though they were everyone’s kids, the twins were super attached to their father.

Wherever Sean went, two red-headed shadows would follow.

[thedailyimagines]

Coraline Au: Supernatural (Part Three)

Part three of the Coraline Au Supernatural series! Search the blog for parts one and two!

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The imagines for this series is based more off the book Coraline rather than the movie, but it borrows from both. It’s a good book, and the graphic novel is pretty cool too!

I always felt so sad for the ghost children, we never knew if they saw their families again after Coraline saved them. I like to think they did.

~~~~~~~~

Sam and Dean weren’t back from their case, and neither had sent word back to y/n if they would be home soon or not. So y/n took a trip to the store and bought himself some apples for lunch.

There was still no word from his brothers.

Later that night, y/n was woken up by a paw batting his face. He sat up in his bed to discover the black cat sitting on the covers.

“How did you get in here?” The cat blinked at him. Y/n reached out and rubbed its head. “I don’t suppose you know where my brothers are, do you?” The cat jumped off the bed and ran down the hall, y/n following behind him.

The cat stopped in front of a full length mirror Sam had added to the bunker. Y/n looked inside to see not his reflection, but-

“Sam! Dean!” Inside were his brothers, covered in snow. Sam leaned towards the mirror and breathed on the glass, fogging it up. In the fog he wrote two words:

‘Help Us’

The mirror image faded, leaving only the reflection of a boy, barely out of his childhood, looking terribly alone and scared.

“I suppose we have to go get them.” The cat blinked again at him. Y/n returned to his room and got dressed. Walking into the armory with his backpack, he grabbed a knife and a stone with a hole in it. Rowena has given it to his older brothers, saying it was good for bad things or something like that. Y/n didn’t know if it was true, but it couldn’t hurt to have it with him.

He then went to the kitchen, opening up the junk drawer as fishing out a flashlight. He was ready to go back. The cat was gone for now, but y/n had a feeling he would see it soon.

<—>

He once again didn’t find anyone until he was almost to the door leading out, where he found the Other Sam tap, tap, tapping away at a computer.

“Where’s Other Dean?” Other Sam didn’t even turn to look at him. He just kept typing away.

“He’s out setting traps.” Was it just y/n, or did his other brother seem...waxy?

“For the rats?” The older shook his head.

“No, the rats are our friends. He’s setting traps for the large black pest that came in today.” Large black-wait, was he talking about the...?

“Was it a cat?”

“That’s the one.” He waited for the button eyed man to speak again. Upon receiving no answer, y/n decided to go outside.

“I’m going exploring.” Other Sam shook his head again. He did look rather waxy and pale in this light.

“Nothing out there to explore. I suppose you could go see the cottage theater again, but otherwise there’s nothing.” Y/n was already walking out towards the door.

“I’ll be exploring nothing then.” And with that, he left the bunker.

Outside seemed less real than when he had last gone out. The trees and plants all looked more like drawings, and everything was much more faded. Y/n walked deeper into the woods, determined to find something. What it was he didn’t know, but he would find it.

“What are you doing this far out?” Startled for a moment, y/n looked down to discover the cat walking beside him.

“I’m looking for something to help me find my brothers.” The cat shook its head. The world around them had faded to vague misty shapes.

“You won’t find it here. He hasn’t bothered building out this far.” Y/n adjusted his backpack.

“Why?”

“A web only need be big enough for the spider to catch the prey.” The two walked in silence for a while until y/n noticed a dark spot ahead of them.

“You were wrong. There is something here.” The two kept walking towards the dark splotch, only to discover it was the house. “But...we walked away from it. How are we back?”

“Walk around the world.”

“Small world.” The cat froze, then ran off in the direction of the underbrush. Y/n wished he had stayed, it was fairly lonely without the cat.

He rentered the bunker, but it was empty. Walking back to the office (which was now full of strange furniture) y/n walked back to the door. It was locked. How had it been locked? The key was...where had he put the key?

“You know, they always say you should keep a close eye on the important things.” Y/n whirled around, coming face to face with Other Dean. But it barely resembled his oldest brother. The skin was too pale, the teeth too sharp, and its fingers kept twitching and playing around with-

-with the key to the door. Placing the key on the table, Other Dean picked up a paper bag. He held it out towards y/n.

“Want a snack? Cocoa beetles, they’re delicious.” Y/n shook his head. Other Dean popped a few into his mouth, crunching down on them. “They say even the strongest spirit can be broken with love.” Y/n shook his head.

“I don’t love you. I just want my real brothers back.” The other brother frowned, a beetle leg hanging out from the corner of his mouth.

“That isn’t any walk to talk to your brother.”

“You aren’t my brother.” Other Dean sat up stiffly, glaring at y/n with the black button eyes.

“Apologize, now.” Y/n crossed his arms and refused to speak.

“One. Two.” Y/n didn’t blink, didn’t move.

“Three!” Grabbing y/n by the hair, the other brother dragged him to the hall, towards the mirror.

“Ow! Let go of me! Get off!” Taking a small silver key out of his pocket, Other Dean stuck it in the mirror and opened it. He tossed y/n inside like he didn’t weigh a thing.

“You can come out when you’ve learned how to act like a proper brother.” And with that, he shut y/n up in the room behind the mirror. Y/n pushed against the wall, but it didn’t budge.

A faint glow caught his attention, and he turned around to catch sight of a blanket with a light underneath on the bed. There was the sound of sighs and quiet sobs emitting from it. Y/n carefully pulled the blanket away to reveal three children. They were transparent, and their clothes were odd, but they made no move towards y/n. It was the little boy in sailor clothes who spoke first.

“Hush, shush! He might be listening!” The girl with wings spoke next.

“Art thou...living?” She reached out a hand and brushed it against y/n’s cheek.

“Yes. Who are you?” The pioneer girl held her face in her hands.

“We’ve lost our names, he took them with the rest of our lives.” The boy spoke up again.

“He spied on our lives with the little doll eyes and saw that we weren’t happy. So he offered us games and toys. And when he offered, we let him sew the buttons in our eyes. He said it was because he loved us.” The winged girl chimed in.

“But it was a lie. He left us here in the dark, to fade until only a shadow was left.” The pioneer girl spoke once more.

“You must flee! Flee while there is life in your heart!”

“I can’t. Not without my real brothers.” Then y/n had an idea. “Why don’t you come out when he opens the door?”

“We cannot. In the light, we would die completely. It is the cost of losing a soul.”

“Did he hide them?”

“Aye. Without them, we could not move on when we died. He kept us here and fed on us.” It was the sailor boy who spoke next.

“Perhaps if you could win your brothers from him, you could find our secret hearts.”

“Maybe. But that won’t happen until he lets me out.” Y/n laid down on the bed. Soon he fell asleep, a voice whispering in his ear.

“Look through the stone.”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gif, all credits go to the owner.

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Images taken by me from my copy of the Coraline graphic novel by P. Craig Russel. The art is awesome in it guys, go check it out!

[ladylynse]

Here’s an old, partial Danny Phantom fic I’d started at one point. Post-Phantom Planet

“Man,” Danny groaned, “sometimes I just wish no one else knew my secret!” It wasn’t a secret anymore, of course. The entire world knew. But things would be easier if they didn’t. Wouldn’t they? Maybe not, given how literally Desiree grants wishes.

Whoever thought being rich and famous would be great had clearly never experienced a taste of either. Danny Fenton had, at different times, experienced both. At first, being rich had seemed like a dream come true, but it hadn’t taken him—or anyone else in his family, for that matter—long to realize that he’d been happier before it had happened. They’d had the good fortune to be able to leave the life of the rich behind—and, with it, their mansion next to Vlad Masters’ home, thankfully—and resume their normal lives again, all the wiser for their experience.

Being famous was something that had happened exclusively to Danny. For all that he wasn’t the genius in the family, he was the one who had ghost powers. He was Danny Phantom. He was Amity Park’s hero. Well, he was now that he was no longer Public Enemy Number One. And, since the fiasco with the Disasteroid, he was the acknowledged hero worldwide.

He hadn’t wanted that recognition, exactly. He’d have been happy just to get his parents off his back. He hadn’t needed statues of him to be built in every capital city of the world. That was just embarrassing, he’d thought. Yes, he’d saved everyone, but he’d had help, and anyone—well, except for maybe Vlad, who would have done so only for his own purposes—would have saved everyone if they’d been able to simply because they’d had the opportunity. He hadn’t done anything special.

But he was being hailed as a hero nonetheless, and with that, he got a lot of unwanted attention.

Things had been simpler, really, back when his ghost powers had been a secret from all but a select few. Danny Phantom was still famous in Amity Park, and he was either hunted by ghost hunters, his parents included, or hounded by fans, but he could leave all that behind. He could step out of the limelight. A quick change in an empty room, darkened alley, abandoned building, what have you, and he could return to being plain old Danny Fenton. Just a kid, a loser, the lowest of the low on Casper High’s social food chain and the favourite punching bag of one Dash Baxter.

Okay, so maybe being plain old Danny Fenton had had its downsides, too, but he’d never been mobbed by people or followed by the media or anything when he wasn’t Phantom. And, heck, the time Amorpho had shown up, they’d both learned the value of anonymity. He’d loved being able to leave the spotlight behind.

That wasn’t possible now.

The whole world knew his secret. Not just his best friends, Sam and Tucker, and his sister, Jazz, along with a variety of his enemies, Vlad included. It had its benefits, of course. His parents didn’t hunt him anymore, and they’d accepted him. Valerie had even apologized to him for hunting him down, too. Dash didn’t try to shove him into lockers anymore. His teachers would let him write make-up tests if a ghost attacked and he had to leave during the middle of an exam, and they were more lenient on homework due dates for him, too, so he was doing better in school.

The best part, though, was that he and Sam were together now. And it meant Tucker had stopped making cracks about them being lovebirds, for the most part. But he wasn’t clueless anymore, and he knew how much Sam meant to him, how much she’d always meant to him, and it was even easier than he’d thought to overlook Paulina and any of the other girls who had tried to get a date with him after his secret had been revealed.

The fact that Vlad was gone, stuck on the Disasteroid and floating somewhere in space, didn’t hurt anything, either. The rest of the ghosts still plagued Amity Park since his parents had fixed the Fenton Ghost Portal, but at least they didn’t try to capture anyone (except for him, especially in Skulker’s case). Danny couldn’t help but wonder if it was out of boredom—along with a desire to escape the Ghost Zone, of course. But for all that a bunch of the local ghosts kept trying to push the limits, they hadn’t tried ganging up on him and he hadn’t had to deal with anyone really, really strong. The fact that everyone knew his secret, that it was no longer something that the ghosts could hold over his head and taunt him with, meant the dynamic had shifted a bit.

But it was the other shift, the fact that Danny Fenton was just as famous as Danny Phantom, that Danny was having trouble getting used to. And it had been, what, three months? He hadn’t had any peace. Any.

The media trailed him wherever he was. People stared at him, even kids he’d known all his life. His parents had gotten an unlisted number, but it had gotten out somehow, and the phone kept ringing off the hook. His dad was threatening to get rid of the phone altogether if it didn’t stop. He had to keep switching cell phone numbers, too. And the letters. He’d gotten letters requesting help from people in different countries, for goodness sakes! He wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten his address.

He’d had to close his email account for the same reason, as well as the one he’d opened to replace it, and it hadn’t taken him long to realize that people were using every form of communication they could to get in touch with him.

They weren’t going to move. He should be thankful for that. But he’d heard his parents mention it, if only wistfully. While the attention wasn’t focused on them, they weren’t spared from it, either, and neither was Jazz.

It was getting to the point where Danny would actually be quite happy to go and visit Aunt Alicia for a few weeks. It might be Tucker’s worst nightmare, but right now, he’d welcome escaping technology. He would miss running water and indoor plumbing a lot more than electricity, but at least it would be difficult for them to follow him, wouldn’t it?

Probably not. Back when he’d only been famous as Phantom, Danny had realized that some of the media people were really determined. And crazy. Admirable, he supposed, but annoying for him, since too many of them seemed to see him as their newest ‘story’. Now? Now, it was just ten times worse. A hundred, even.

His mom was still talking about home schooling them, too. Invisibility and intangibility—and flight, when it came down to it—really helped to get away from the press, but the constant attention wasn’t easy, and it was even wearing on Jazz. She didn’t show it much, but Danny could see it.

The pile of broken pencils in the garbage can beside the desk in her room made that pretty clear, too.

At least his parents had managed to hold off the Guys in White. They were probably the main reason Danny hadn’t been shipped off and locked away in some government facility to be studied for the unique specimen he was. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that the Guys in White hadn’t given up, that they weren’t just waiting until everything died down a bit, until they could find some loophole that would tie his parents’ hands and let them spirit him away….

He wasn’t safe anymore. He’d never really been safe safe, not since the accident, but he’d been marginally safer when his secret had been, well, a secret. The Guys in White were determined, after all, and had become increasingly competent. Him being half-human wasn’t enough to stop them from seeing him as a ghost to be dissected and studied, nothing more than an unfeeling and exceedingly unique specimen. If he’d had any doubts, they’d all been banished by the way he’d been chased down when his secret had first been revealed to the world during the incident with the Reality Gauntlet.

Then, he’d been able to turn the clock back, in a way. He’d remodelled reality, let it resemble what it was supposed to, the way things had been before Freakshow had escaped and used the Reality Gauntlet in the first place. He’d taken away the memories of the entire nightmarish incident from everyone except those who had known beforehand. Everything had gone back to normal, or, at least, what had become normal. It had been a relief.

He didn’t have any such solace now, though he couldn’t say he regretted not having to keep a secret from his parents.

There was a meteor shower tonight, so at least he didn’t have to wonder which ghost was likely to show up. Desiree never missed anything like this. She had an annoying habit of managing to turn up at little kids’ birthday parties, too, he’d found. She was easy enough to deal with, but she always managed to wreak a little bit of havoc before he caught her. And tonight, well, she could be anywhere.

That was why he was out early; only the first stars were starting to show up. He was invisible, of course. That was the only way he could go anywhere without being followed these days. This time last year, he probably would have taken a bit of time to enjoy studying the night sky. Once he caught Desiree, the only ones who could’ve stopped him would’ve been his parents, or maybe Valerie, unless one of his ghostly enemies had decided to show up.

A quick patrol meant Desiree was still managing to keep ahead of him. The first few shooting stars streaked across the sky, and Danny started his rounds again, looking for a party of some sort. Desiree was more likely to go to a larger crowd of people than to pick off strag—

“Ghost boy!”

Danny blinked. He wasn’t flying over Casper High anymore, and he didn’t need his ghost sense going off to tell him why. As it was, he was holding Paulina. Drifting lazily above her backyard. Danny put her down on the grass. “Paulina,” he said slowly, “you know I’m dating Sam….” Paulina wasn’t the only one who had persisted in calling him ‘ghost boy’, but she was one of the few girls Sam hadn’t been able to scare off. Danny had the uncomfortable feeling that Paulina saw this as a challenge, and she was stubborn enough not to back down. This just proved it. Again.

Paulina Sanchez pulled a face. “Danny,” she purred, “just for one night, don’t you think—?”

“For the last time, no, Paulina,” Danny said. He turned around to see a smirking Desiree. He was surprised she was still here, actually, but he supposed she was waiting for Paulina to make another wish. He could guess what it was.

He let his hands glow green as he rose in the air to face Desiree. “It wasn’t very smart to let her wish me here, you know,” he said. “You’re just making my job easier.”

Desiree laughed. “I grant them as I hear them, Phantom.”

Danny frowned. “No, you don’t. You twist them. That’s what you do. Make monster trucks actual monster trucks and all that.” He glanced back down at Paulina. “What’d you wish for?” he asked, suddenly wary.

“Oh, the usual boring drivel,” Desiree answered. “To spend the night in your arms and that sort of thing. You’re confined here until dawn, if you’re wondering, while I’m out granting wishes.” Her smile grew suddenly. “Have fun.”

“Hey!” Danny yelled, sending an ectoblast after her. She might not have had a lot of time to grant wishes, but she still looked a bit too strong to be easily caught in the thermos, even if he wished her in there. “You can’t do that!”

Another laugh. “I already have.”

Danny sent another ectoblast in her direction and flew towards her. Desiree hadn’t trapped him in a cage, after all. She couldn’t seriously expect—

Danny groaned and twisted around in the air to right himself after the impact. He’d hit…something, and had only barely managed to dodge his own ectoblast, which had been reflected back at him by that same something. “What’d you do,” he asked, rubbing his nose, “put up an invisible ghost shield that only works on me?”

Desiree, who was three feet away and somehow out of his reach, smirked again. “Height restriction’s twenty feet,” she said.

“My parents can get me out of here, you know,” he warned her.

Desiree shrugged. “It won’t matter what form you’re in. You’re not leaving that yard until the sun comes up, even through the Ghost Zone. You might as well enjoy yourself.”

“Enjoy myself?” Danny repeated. “Sam’s going to kill me even if I don’t land all night!” This was one benefit with Desiree; he could sometimes distract her with conversation, so long as he watched what he said. It wasn’t much different than letting Technus get caught up in one of his rants, really. It bought him time.

Of course, he still had no idea what to wish for to get out of this.

Then again, maybe he didn’t have to. Danny smiled. He’d fought Desiree often enough that he’d realized he could sometimes exploit a loophole in one of her wishes, sort of like she could take a general wish and turn it into a nightmare. He didn’t know the exact terms of this one, but he was pretty sure it would work.

Desiree noticed his smile and crossed her arms. “You aren’t getting out of this one until your time’s up,” she said.

“I can make Paulina regret her words,” he said. “She’ll kick me out. I’ll catch up with you in five minutes.”

“I’ll save you the trouble,” Desiree said. “You can’t go invisible or intangible, as per your friend’s instructions. She didn’t want to lose her hold on you.”

Great. That probably meant that even if he did manage to get out of the yard, he’d be bogged down by everyone else he was trying to avoid. “Hey, wait!” he yelled as Desiree started off again. “I’m not done talking to you yet.”

A laugh. “I’m done with you,” came the reply. “Can’t you hear all the wishes people are making, Phantom? It’s glorious.”

It was also resulting in, from what he could see, things like three-headed dragons and wild horses and—who the heck would wish for a fifty-foot snake? Okay, so he couldn’t understand the dragon, either. He suspected the horses were a result of a little girl wishing for a pony or two, though. Stupid traditions of wishing on shooting stars….

“I wish,” Danny yelled, causing Desiree to stop and look back at him again, “I wish…. Man, sometimes I just wish no one else knew my secret!” He wouldn’t be in this position if Paulina didn’t know he was Fenton and Phantom. Well, he might be in this position as Phantom, but if he’d snuck away and Fenton turned up, he’d be out on the street in no time. Before she’d found out he was the ghost boy, the only time Paulina had had time for him was when she’d wanted something.

Desiree had an incredulous look on her face, and she flew closer to him again. “Really?” she asked.

Danny suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. “Um…no?”

He’d asked Clockwork if he could have a do-over of the events that followed the Disasteroid and had been refused. He hadn’t thought to ask Desiree before. Well, yes, he had, but he’d ruled that out. Desiree couldn’t pull something like that off. As far as he knew, it was out of her power range.

Danny looked at Desiree’s enlarged form and swallowed.

Her usual power range, anyway.

Now that he thought about it, it probably wasn’t. If he hadn’t revealed himself in front of the TV cameras, the people who knew his secret would be considerably fewer. And Desiree could handle wiping the memories of a handful of people. She’d done it when she’d erased Sam from his life, after all.

Oh, crud. Why had he ever opened his mouth? He knew better than to make careless wishes in front of Desiree. And he knew he could’ve said something a heck of a lot more harmless.

Unfortunately, there was ‘knowing’ and there was ‘doing’.

“I, uh, take it back? I wish I hadn’t made that wish?”

Desiree laughed. “Doesn’t work like that,” she said. “So you have wished it, so shall it be!”

As the wave of power rolled towards Danny, he closed his eyes and flinched away, knowing things were going to be a whole lot worse when he opened them again.

2XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Yoo-hoo! Ghost boy!”

Danny cracked open one eye. Desiree was gone, but that wasn’t a surprise. With both eyes open again, he tentatively put a hand forward and found that he was still bound to Paulina’s yard. Great. That hadn’t changed, either.

He looked down to see Paulina waving at him and couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed. Maybe Desiree had been bluffing after all. About being able to un-wish a wish, at least. She probably hadn’t been kidding about putting a cap on how high he could fly or anything like that, though. He wasn’t that lucky.

He sighed and drifted back to the ground. “Paulina, I can’t—”

“Oh, you remember me!” He suddenly found himself enfolded in a hug. “I knew you would!”

“Uh, Paulina?” Danny said, trying—and failing—to phase through her arms to get out of her death grip. “Why didn’t you think I’d know who you were?” Maybe Desiree hadn’t been bluffing after all.

Paulina smiled at him. “We never have been properly introduced,” she said.

Danny swallowed. Okay, Desiree hadn’t been bluffing. But he didn’t really want to find out what Paulina meant by ‘properly introduced’. This time last year, yes, he probably would’ve been overjoyed. Now?

Now, he had to get out of here before Sam really had a reason to kill him.