#'say you need to move into a new place w/ urgency but they place you in (said neighbourhood) and you refuse twice then you lose your urgency

[uneclipsing]

walks into the hairdresser's and they're dissing my old neighbourhood

[thriftedtchotchkes]

waiting to spill

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play

word count: 3.9k

(based on this request)

Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.

Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.

Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long? 

One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.

He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.

Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.

"Babe?"

You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.

"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever. 

It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.

"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.

"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane. 

He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.

"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice. 

It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency. 

Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons. 

"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."

He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.

"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver. 

"Please."

You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.

"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.

He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever. 

He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal. 

"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."

The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.

An hour. He can handle one more hour.

He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault. 

He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.

Maybe less. 

There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.

"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here. 

"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"

But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying. 

Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.

He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.

"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go. 

Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.

"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.

Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again. 

If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.

Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.

He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.

You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.

You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.

He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.

Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far. 

The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.

Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.

"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."

You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.

"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.

"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."

You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.

"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."

But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.

He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.

"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.

His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.

"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.

"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.

"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."

"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."

He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it. 

Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.

He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust. 

He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.

His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later. 

"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.

He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.

Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.

"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.

It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.  

His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him. 

The girl he waited for. 

He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out. 

He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.

He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for. 

Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.

His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.

When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.

Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.

"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."

He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option. 

And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.

You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.

"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."

Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you? 

"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."

It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.

"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.

"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.

"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.

"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.

"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.

"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan. 

His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.

"There's no way."

"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.

"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"

"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.

He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.

"Yeah, I really do."

thanks for reading!

(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)

[startseeingstars]

Collision Path - Mike 5lbs of Pressure

CH31 Maddi’s POV 🎶 Is It Really You - Loathe 🎶

TW - mentions of death

The phone rang and I raced through the apartment to get it in time. It was an unknown number, so I picked it up but didn’t say anything.

“‘Ello? Maddi?” I remained quiet, but the male voice on the other line seemed vaguely familiar. My pulse quickened, but as I went to hang up, he spoke again, urgency in his voice.

“It’s Sicky. I need to get a hold of Mikey, it’s important.”

I stayed quiet, mind racing - how did he get this number? What did he want with Mike? How would Mike respond?

“Look, I know you can hear me. Tell him to call me back on this number. It’s about his Uncle.”

The call disconnected and I put the phone down, looking up at Mike as he opened the front door. He tossed his keys aside and they jingled, landing on one of the closed moving boxes.

“Hey, babe. I got subs for dinner from that place you like downtown.” He placed the brown takeout bag down before removing the guitar from his back. Finally, he looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Mads.. what happened? Are you okay?” He took large strides, closing the distance between us quickly.

“Sicky found my number.” I started. His eyes widened slightly and he nodded.

“Okay - so we will change your number.” He said. I could see the cogs turning in his mind as he assessed our safety.

“He wants you to call him. He said it’s about Leff and it’s urgent.” He shook his head.

“It could be a set up. I’m not risking it. Especially now.” He placed a warm hand on my stomach and I smiled, but still felt uneasy.

“You, this baby and music are my new life.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine gently as I closed my eyes. I sank into his arms as they wrapped around me and felt my heart flutter.

“I love you.” I whispered against his mouth and he smiled.

“I love you more.”

It was late but I couldn’t sleep. Mike snored lightly beside me as moonlight spilled in from the partially open blind of our bedroom window. I studied the landscape of his skin and muscles as his chest rose and fell peacefully.

His unruly hair sprawled out on the pillow and I found myself smiling. He looked almost angelic like this.

A buzz pulled me out of my day dream and I quickly picked up my cell phone to avoid waking Mike. He stirred, but rolled away from me before I looked at the phone.

It was a text from an unknown number.

“Maddi, it’s Kelly. I desperately need to talk to you. Please call me.” I bit my lip. I had thought about her a lot the past two months since we left so abruptly.

I’d kept tabs on her socials to make sure she was okay, and was relieved to see that ER hadn’t pulled her into this shit show. It was probably because she made so much money for the club, but I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that I was glad she was safe.

I hesitated, but my gut feeling was that this was really her. If it wasn’t, I would hang up - I was going to change my number anyway.

Carefully, I slipped out of the bed and made my way to the living room couch. Buffy followed, curious as to what I was doing out of bed.

My heart was thudding hard in my chest as it rang, but she answered on the third ring.

“Maddi?” Her voice was desperate and I sighed with relief that it was actually her.

“Kell - oh my fucking God. I miss you. I’m so sorry.” The words were spilling from my mouth before I could get a hold of them. She chuckled slightly before shushing me.

“I fucking miss you, too. I’m glad you’re alive.” She did sound relieved and I ran my hand through my hair. It was so good to hear a familiar voice.

“ER is dead.” Her sentence shocked me and I sat in silence for a few moments.

“Wh-who? How?” A million questions flooded my mind and she sighed.

“Leff. Sicky found me and gave me your number. He said he needs to talk to Mike, asap. Leff’s in jail for murder.” My mind struggled to keep up with what my ears were hearing.

“W-wait … Leff killed ER? Why would he do that?” I shook my head, trying to make sense of the situation.

“For trying to kill Mikey - driving him away. One of the girls witnessed the whole thing though and ratted him out.” She sighed and I felt a strange wave of relief wash over me.

“So…”

“So you’re free, babe. Come home.” She pleaded and I looked around. The plain white walls were bare. Moving boxes and flat packed furniture scattered the hardwood floors. In that moment, Mike appeared in our bedroom doorway. He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair before giving me an adorable, puzzled look. His eyes were crystal clear, even in the dim light.

I licked my lips as I stared at him, smiling.

“We are home.”

[icouldhyperfixatehim]

tag game 🫧

tagged by @cankersoregirl - a delight and shower of starshine on the dash

1. why did you choose your url?

i like wordplay and "i could fix him" happened to be the phrase du jour at the time. i have enough awareness to know i could not in fact fix him, as i am invariably worse 😊

2. any sideblogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

none for me - i've had and deleted/reupholstered previous iterations of blogs, but i've never done the sideblog thing

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

this blog particular? since 2019/2020 i believe. those previous iterations i mentioned? christened as tumblr native the year of our lord 2013

4. do you have a queue tag?

i'm almost me again she's almost queue. more wordplay - lyric from hozier's almost (sweet music)

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

i watched the untamed on rec from someone i was getting to know irl. from there i moved like wildfire discovering the queer stories i hadn't known asia had been producing This Whole Time, and i turned back to an old friend (oh tumblr you sweet, slutty siren) to further my education in a new obsession. isn't it always the way

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

eh well, that's erng, from umg, and she's the most important person in the world. and out the world.

7. why did you choose your header?

again, umg. that series is so rich in lovely trees, and that one in particular is marked with an arrow that points the way to homes away from home, friendships that last lifetimes, the parts of childhood you keep cradled in your hands like a fragile little moth... it's just a lovely shot to me.

8. what is your post with the most notes?

apparently it's this meme about gap sam being a beautiful girlfail 🤍

9. how many mutuals do you have?

no idea. room for more?

10. how many followers do you have?

a quick looky-loo provides the answer...1083. i imagine a great many just haven't realised they haven't unfollowed me yet lmao

11. how many people do you follow?

451. lotta talented people on here and i have a trigger finger. i could probably do w a pruning session tbh

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

some might argue that's the bulk of what i do

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

how often do i pick my nails? how often do i yawn? how often do i walk into a room in my house and forget wtf i went in there for?

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

no, i'm just a liwwtle guy ^-^

15. how do you feel about 'you need to reblog this' posts?

everyone feels urgency for different things at different times depending on their own perspective. we do our best with what we have in a given moment, and it's worth the effort to resist guilt that others try to hand you. they don't know you, you know you.

16. do you like tag games?

i do! more open ended ones like this - i struggle w superlatives

17. do you like ask games?

i've spoken before of my deep devotion to t? notification. i love her in all her guises

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

idk i'm shy of everyone at more or less equal levels lmao

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

in love w creation and critical analysis of narratives and passion so: select all//action:kith

20. tags?

here's your coupon to say i tagged you if you want to partake: 💌. otherwise @akkpipitphattana @jgyapologism @philologique @becomingabeing @charles-edwin @chickenstrangers @benkaaoi

[kingofdemxns]

Repeating Old Habits {Wolf & King}

In which King goes to Wolf with his and Gem's findings. [takes place June 24th]

@wolf-innsheepsclothing

KING

King disliked Gem, even if they found this together Gem still acted like this was his own battle. His own fight. He would screw everything up thinking like that. And so King would talk to Wolf and continued to walk around the inn to find him. "We might have found something!"

WOLF

Wolf had been coming and going like a ghost in the night, like a stray dog returning to the closed door of a former owner's house, staring up at the lit windows as if they were the moon. He had tried, where possible, to avoid the others. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to fight. Instead he simply searched for any sign of a way in, or of a change in the house and its strange foreign feeling. He turned sharply towards King as he approached, the smell of smoke following him as it so often did to Wolf. "What?" His eyes narrowed immediately. "What have you seen?"

KING

"it's a pattern, a loop! I don't know what it means but Gem and I noticed that everything happens like clock work. There's people in the house not anyone I know. Maybe you'll know I don't know." King started to rambled getting off topic just a little. "I can show you! I don't know if they are still all there."

WOLF

Wolf's eyes searched King's face. What was he saying? A pattern? Clockwork? What was happening? He had only caught vague glances himself, but he had kept his distance. But his mind was instantly caught by the second part. "People?" Who could be in there? Besides Lady Miracle. What new devilry had she cooked up? "Show me," he confirmed.

KING

King nodded turning on his heel to guide Wolf to the window. "It's really hard to see because of the curtains but at 5 yesterday and then 5 today there's a flurry of activity with people and Snow." It wasn't as busy now. As if the scene had moved on. "Tomorroe at 5 I bet it happens again. And it's the same for the lights in the windows. They turn on at the same minute. I have all the times marked down."

WOLF

"Show me," he repeated. "At least where you saw it." He wanted to look for himself, see if there was anything inside the windows that could tell him that Snow was alright? Or had Lady Miracle already taken her from them forever. Later, he might be able to focus on those details, and on what King was truly saying here.

KING

King pointed to the window he had guided Wolf to. "This one for the people but I can send you the list of others at different times. It's like every window."

WOLF

Wolf approached the window carefully, worried that each step might alert the erstwhile Mistress of the house. He glanced inside, but could see nothing. Nothing except furniture and the house itself. He longed to see Snow, but there was no such luck. He turned back, his stomach sinking again. "You said you have times? Show me-" he urged, walking back away from the building.

KING

King was trying he was but Wolf's urging and urging and urging was a lot. After Gem and his own dismissive urgency King was struggling. He needed to take his own breath. He needed to stop. He needed to leave. But he couldn't. He had to see this thru. Unlocking his phone he handed it to Wolf. All the observations Gem and King had made all listed there.

WOLF

Wolf fell silent as King produced his phone, and he read each of the entries there. After a long moment, he looked up. "And you said both you and Gem have seen this? Together? Or apart?" He couldn't see a pattern in it yet, no reason for why this would happen in this way, but there had to be something, if it was repeating again and again.

KING

"separate and then we double checked them today." King offered wrapping his arms around his chest as Wolf scrolled his phone. "Everything we saw happened, happen again."

WOLF

Well that was good. Good. It was not restricted to just either one of them then? It was actually happening at the Inn. He could verify it all himself and then - He didn't know what, but for the first time since they were all banished from the house it felt like a lead. "Can you send this to me?" He nodded at the phone. "I will try to observe it all myself to be sure everyone can see…" Wolf's jaw ticked as he saw King wrapping himself up. Right. He … He was supposed to be looking after them all. "This is good, King. You did well."

KING

King nodded, he didn't know what else to do. He would send it to Wolf and Wolf would stay and figure it out again and they would all be in their own loop verifying information. Stagnant the same way Snow was. King felt frozen. Cold to the touch. "I'll send, there's still a few times you can double check tonight if you want."

WOLF

"I will. Thank you," he paused, and swallowed, before he laid a hand on the lad's shoulder. He did not seem himself, but how could any of them be, without Snow? "When was the last time you rested?"

KING

King was tempted to brush off Wolf's hand much like he had Sophie's. They were fractured, a deep fissure left and unfulfilled until they were all together again. " I'm not the one not resting i bet." King eyed wolf blankly.

WOLF

"King," he spoke, trying to adjust his voice to take some of the usual tone out of it. "All of us are struggling." Of course they were, he saw how Bones was literally fighting to keep himself together. How Gregoria tended the gardens with vehemence because what else could she do? How Demi was run ragged trying to sustain himself. He knew also, how he spent the nights tossing and turning, sitting up and trying to find some other way to help until he heard the tell-tale signs of Ting-Ting stirring with Matilda and pretended to be asleep. "But we can help Snow best when we are … ok." "Eat something. Rest a little. I will call you if anything changes."

KING

King nodded again taking his phone back and texting the list to Wolf. "Yeah. I'll see you." King mused moving to head out back to Milo's and hopefully sink into the others arms.

WOLF

"King-" Wolf started, before he huffed. He did not have the words to say to fix this. Fixing this was fixing Snow, fixing the Inn and bringing back their home. If he had the answer to that he would have used it a thousand times already. "If you need me." He said instead, slowly and deliberately. "Call me."

[kittyit]

This is a long and loaded ask so feel free to delete but it's completely earnest

I've been a radfem for about 3-4 years now (radfemhagen but I got termed) and honestly I still struggle w genuine dysphoria. All the reading, critical thinking, talking w detrans women is definitely eye opening and helped me but it hasn't healed me of my ~gender feels~ if you know what I mean. I remember trying to get tips from other blogs but all I remember was something about doing physical labor with other women or just being around other women but that isn't helping either, I'm so disgusted by my female body and how I'm seen (especially by men and especially as a lesbian) and it's just getting worse. I've been thinking about going on a low dose of T even but I know there's other options to coping, like there HAS to be SOMETHING. I can't just will it out anymore.

Help a gyn out

this and it's probably better saved for an essay but i felt moved to respond to you straight up. i'm going to explain three really important parts of my journey to a place where i almost never experience the intense and life-disrupting distress around my sex (diagnosed as dysphoria) except in times of extreme stress, and even then it's fleeting.

one essential thing i did was stop thinking of transition as an option for myself. this is something i see a lot of detrans/desisted women struggle with. i think this is a mental trap. "if i don't feel better in x amount of time or when i do x, i'll transition" removes the urgency and necessary nature of working through the distress around your sex. i've written in a few pieces about when my girlfriend max asked me to not do it 3 days before my first t shot, it genuinely felt like the last light in a dark harbor going out. i felt utterly hopeless. i felt like my last solution had been taken from me and i would never feel better.

i came to my decision to never pursue transitional medicine first through listening from my girlfriend and other detrans women. to take seriously the pain & trauma detrans women go through. to listen when they said this did not help me, this was not help, it did not fix these feelings of distress. to listen to detrans women is to understand that transitional medicine is an unethical practice being done by unethical practitioners. it's also to understand that this solution is not what it's presented as. taking these women's experiences and analysis seriously meant ruling it out as a coping mechanism for myself, ever. but there are so many reasons to make the decision not to participate in transition medicine - political & practical. not giving money to surgeons who traffic in literal female flesh. not wanting to risk all of the under-studied, ignored negative long-term health effects. not wanting to signal to the women around you that there is no way to survive as a woman like you without transitional medicine. defiance of new patriarchal expectations for women like you. defiance of the pressures that tell you that this is the thing that will make you feel better - like makeup, like labiaplasty, like breast implants, like an elective double mastectomy. defiance in general.

so the first thing was to stop thinking of transitioning as an option. i said no. the second thing was to stop thinking of my distress as dysphoria. to un-diagnose myself with this word that means i need to take T and get a mastectomy and undergo phalloplasty to have a chance of ever being happy. you mention disgust for your body, you mention disgust for how you're seen by men and as a lesbian. disgust for yourself on these points is anger at patriarchy, lesbian-hating society & men turned inward on yourself instead of the people who deserve it. it's an impulse of someone dealing with oppression to blame one's self for it and think there are things we can do to escape it. it's no different than a woman trapped in domestic violence obsessing over what she could have done differently to not set him off this time - the right dinner, place setting, clothing & tone. the idea that woman- and lesbian-hating can be escaped as easily as transitional medicine claims it can is simply not true. the experiece of a woman who passes as a man is another exerperience of womanhood, still under the bell jar of misogyny.

what helped me with these feelings of distress was pinpointing exactly where they came from and what they meant. i know this isn't helpful for everyone. but it's almost like going deeper and deeper on the feeling make it more and more clear what needed to be addressed. here's one spiral to the center: i want to chop off my tits → why? → i hate my breasts → why? → they feel ugly and disgusting → why? → i got them so young, they're so large and people stare → why does that bother you? → i feel so ugly and out of place → why does that bother you? → i feel so alone and worthless → how do you feel? → i feel lonely → what do you need? → i need connection.

"i want to chop off my tits" is not a coherent feeling - every human alive has complex reasons for the things they say, think and do. if you can get to the bottom of where these sensations and feelings and disturbances diangosed as dysphoria are coming from, you can figure out how to address them. what is the feeling at the bottom, what is going unaddressed? and quite honestly a lot of the time it's not an easy answer. sometimes the answers are super hard to grapple with. sometimes the need cannot be fulfilled or are very difficult to fulfill. but once you've decided that transition is not on the table, the quest to find those answers becomes a lot more essential.

this isn't something anyone is really meant to do alone. when i hear you say you hate being seen as a lesbian and how men treat you, i hear an inherent isolation in that. i could be wrong, i know a lot of people can still feel lonely when they have a strong support system, but i would say the majority of women do not have the kind of friend group and number of connections they need to be socially supported. so another big part of this is breaking out of isolation and being around other women who "get it" - whether virutally or in real life. humans are a pack animal and this is an isolating age.

so that's my three parter to your question

1. say no to transitional medicine

2. undiagnose yourself with dysphoria and instead figure out why you're feeling what you're feeling

3. seek out friendship, community, and ways of thought that can help you address those feelings

[with-every-piece-of-me]

The hand that I can hold

Pairing: Luke Crain x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Nell's death you find him before the others do, Steven told you the news so you had to break it to Luke and he took it like a hammer to the eye.

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, swearing, angst, mentions of death/suicide.

Words: 1.5k

Y/n POV.

My world felt like it was shattered, yet I didn't cry for a good minute. I was too shocked – too sad to move, let alone cry. Everything had just stopped, but then it all came crashing when Steven's words had really hit me. Nell was dead. My best friend, gone.

It felt like my heart was collapsing in on itself, but at the same time tearing itself apart. I felt like someone had kicked me directly in the chest, as if any oxygen in my lungs was ripped out.

That's when Steve had told me how she had died, she had hung herself. It only got worse and worse the more I thought about it. Then I realized, Luke doesn't know. I mean how could he, he had broken out of rehab the morning after she passed, Shirley had told me. There's no way he could know. I try to pull myself together as much as I can to even attempt to say anything.

"Stevie… Does Luke know?"

I question with a shaky voice, only met with silence from Steven as if he had forgotten to consider the fact that Luke would be more affected than most of us. I hear a heavy hearted sigh from the phone.

"Fuck… No. No, he doesn't. I don't even know where he is or how to reach him."

Steve explains, I nod, tears swelling in my eyes. I know where he'd be, well I can take a pretty damn good guess. Luke's rehab was closest to my place so I decide I need to be the one to find him since I know Steve isn't living as close anymore.

"I'll go get him. You're probably too far to find him in time, if he has.. y'know.. I could probably find him before it get's too bad."

I hear Steven sigh again, he knows it would be better for me to find him. I start looking for my purse and my car keys, staying on the call with Steve as I don't want to feel alone right now and I can tell he doesn't either.

"That means you'll have to be the one to tell him…"

Steve explains, I let out a shaky and nervous sigh, processing that he's right, I can't just tiptoe around the fact that his twin sister had just hung herself in the same house his mother had also died at her own hands in.

"If he hasn't relapsed, which I seriously doubt, this might push him to it. So just.. don't let him out of your sight and stay safe."

Steve stammers to the end of his sentence, realizing what he had done by giving Luke money, possibly helping him indulge in his vices on purpose.

"I'll be as safe as I can be and yeah, I'll watch him for a while, he can stay at my place so don't worry."

I attempt to reassure Steve but I'm also extremely worried and it shows in my tone so I doubt it helped much. As much as I don't want to, I hang up and get into my car.

After maybe twenty minutes of searching I find Luke. He's pacing up and down the sidewalk, mumbling as he's counting on his fingers repetitively, he's scared. He looks worse for wear, he's battered and bruised, he's clearly not okay.

"Luke..?"

I call out, catching his attention, his focus snaps towards me. I quickly get out of my car and walk up to him, he continues to mumble under his breath.

"I couldn't save her. I… I couldn't save her. I'm so sorry.."

He sobs as I pull him into a hug, his voice quiet but raspy. He hugs be back tightly, after a few seconds I let him go and he stares at me, waiting for me to speak, waiting for some kind of lecture because he broke out of rehab but I wasn't angry right now.

"You're clean right now, right?"

I ask in caution as his eyes widen slightly, realizing how he must look right now. He thinks about what he should say right now, looking for the easiest way to explain or to make me worry less.

"N.. no, I'm ninety days clean.. I swear… I.. I swear. Ninety days free, remember?"

He stuttered to the end of his sentence with a sense of urgency in a hope that I wasn't already disappointed. He's actually clean, which you wouldn't be able to tell based on how he looks right now but even though he's more himself there's still something wrong, he's shivering and incredibly uneasy.

"Luke, are you okay?"

I question out of pure concern, knowing that it's a loaded question when it comes to him. I place my hand on his shoulder and he stares down at the ground, trying to organize his thoughts. You don't just break out of rehab for no reason only to end up pacing in the streets with no shoes and looking like you were hit a bus or two. He says nothing, he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, he must've got pretty hurt last night.

"I-I'm freezing cold, my body feels so stiff and my neck hurts like a bitch… It feels like really awful withdrawals but so much worse and I'm clean. I swear I didn't do anything last night… I swear."

Luke stammered as he leaned in a bit closer so I could hear him fully, I need to tell him about Nellie. I suck in a cold yet heavy breath, mentally preparing myself for what's about to happen. I don't know if I can do it without breaking down myself.

"Luke… It's Nellie, she's… She's. Uh.."

I struggle out the words but I can't get myself to say it, there's something inside of me deeply wanting it to not be real, for this just to be some vivid nightmare that I'll wake from, and Nell will be back at her house, sleeping peacefully and perfectly fine when I wake up – but it isn't a dream, I can't just wake up and everything will be okay, I can't just wake up from what feels like an endless nightmare because I'm not asleep, no matter now much I desperately want this all to be a dream… It's real and I can't just ignore it. Luke needs to know.

"She's… Dead. Nell died last night."

I cry as Luke freezes up, tears roll down his cheeks, he looks like he's completely crumbling.

"What…?"

He chokes up, unable to say anything else. Doing this felt worse than I thought it would, it didn't tug at my heartstrings, it ripped them out stomped on them. He stares at me as if I'm about to tell him it's just some sick joke, I wish I could, for his sake, but I just can't.

"Can you just please get in the car, I think you should stay with me until the funeral. We can talk about it more when we get to my place."

I stare down at the floor, unable to to look him in the eyes. He nods slowly as I open the car door for him. He gets into the car, still counting on his fingers but this time more agitated, more frightened.

We get back to my place after a while of sitting in a depressive silence in the car, neither of us felt like there was much we could say through minds clouded with tragedy.

He walks into the guest room and just sits on the edge of the bed unmoving. He sits, slouched forward with his head in his hands as he sobs quietly.

I walk up to the door and knock a few times. The knocks echo through the mostly silent house, aside from the faint sound of Luke in mourning.

"…come in."

Luke responds as I open the door and walk up the bed. I sit next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He stares back at me, while I try to find any words in the mess that is currently my mind to try and help him, to comfort him.

"I'm not gonna lie to you and say everything is okay, because it's really not… But… I'm here for you. I don't know how to make the pain all just go away but what I do know how to do is listen and offer any comfort I can give. We don't need to talk about it right now but when you're ready I'll be here."

I sympathize, my voice brittle and low as Luke gazes at me as he, tears still flowing down his face. A quiet thank you is all Luke's able to say in the moment, his voice remains hoarse.

"Do you mind if I sit here for a while?.. I don't really want to be alone right now."

I request, as Luke sits up and rests his head on my shoulder, his hand resting on my knee.

"Me neither."

[sunatoru]

bottom of the deep blue. (8)

⇒ mermaid!suna x siren!reader

summary : sirens, creatures of unmatched beauty and cunning charm, they lure men in with their voices and grace, taking advantage of all the gullible fishermen and pirates. mermaids, the peacekeepers of the deep blue sea, naive and kind to a fault at times. a fated encounter between the two underwater dwellers leads to a difficult situation and a love that shouldn’t be.

warnings : character death, mentions of blood , somewhat graphic description of flesh being uhh eaten?? , mentions of torture, cruel treatment, description of mutilation, mental breakdowns, just a lot of death and fear.

genre : mermaid au, pirate au, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, betrayal

a/n : i’m so sorry it took me so long to post the final chapter, after this there’ll be a short epilogue that i’ll probably post later on in the week, and then i might take a break from writing a series (i have more planned but i wanna work on the ideas more) so i’ll probably release one shots for a bit!! pls reblog or comment or send me a message in my inbox if you enjoyed or had any criticisms 🫣🫂🫂

w/c : 2.7k

rintarou shifted awkwardly under the harsh glares of your sisters, each one of them taking their time to inspect him carefully.

“yn never talked about you, but we knew when she’d come back later than usual, a bright smile on her face— we knew it had to be because she met someone.” the eldest broke the silence.

suna swallowed back his guilt at her words, he knew you cared for him, that there was something slowly blooming between the two of you, yet that didn’t stop him. he realised his selfishness cost him the one thing he desired most, freedom wasn’t above the water surrounded by people who had no care for him.

he realised too late that freedom was with you. spending hours in your little cave, hidden away from the world and the burdens you both carried, freedom was holding your hand as the two of you sat on the rocks together watching the sunset or running through the markets.

rintarou took far too long to realise that freedom was with you.

“i’m sorry…” suna wished he could do more or say more to even the tide, but the damage had already been done, you had been ripped away from your family and the life you had grown accustomed to, albeit a life you didn’t want to live, however you were safe and your safety should have been his biggest priority.

your sisters stare at him, gaze stone cold and filled with judgement at the fidgeting merman who could only bow his head and lay a hand on his heart if only to show his sincerity for what has happened. his apology is not enough.

“you expect us to accept your foolish apology and move on? our sister is being harmed and by the time we find her, she may very well be dead. your remorse is not needed, your help is needed.” the eldest spoke to him, her tone sharp.

rintarou nodded and lifted his head up, gazing back at her. “i know where she is, i can lead us to them. if we go now we may be able to make it to them before the sun rises. these humans are weakest at night.”

“good. we will need every advantage to rip their throats out as slowly and painfully as possible.”

—

the ocean was bustling in the night, all types of creatures came out to hunt for their meal or travel the vast waters for a new place to stay. the group of sirens led by the merman sped through the currents, ignoring the fish that would scramble out of their paths.

“they should be further ahead. once we make it under the boat, remember the plan. rintarou you make your way back onto the ship, we will start the melodies as soon as you give us the signal.”

rintarou gives a short nod, and with that the group pushes forward, speed increasing as the urgency to get to the travelling boat rises. if they’re even a little late it could result in the end of your existence and if that happens, rintarou would accept any punishment your sisters had ready for him.

after a few more minutes of swimming the group sees the large paddles of the ship below the water, lying dormant as most of the crew must have finally been allowed rest. rintarou takes this as a good sign, and with a small smile he swims closer to the boat.

they all slow down once they make it to the first paddle, with quiet nods the group splits off, your sisters surrounding the boat, and rintarou swimming over to the side where the large ropes had been thrown over.

rintarou turns to your eldest sister, giving her an appreciative nod before swimming up to the surface. with a deep breath he begins the climb, at first it had been a struggle with the fact that he had to carry most of his tail weight, but the further up he got and the more he dried off, his human legs had finally formed again.

he tried keeping his grunts as quiet as possible, but climbing the rope while being hit with the strong ocean winds was something he had not been prepared for, so with a final grunt he throws himself over the edge of the boats barriers. eyes searching for a sack or long fabric he could tie around his nude waist before finding you and confronting yuuji.

much to rintarou’s luck, he found a pair of abandoned pants, most likely from a drunk crew mate. he slipped into the pants and sprinted down to where you were held the last time he was on the boat. with a speed he wasn’t used to and a strength he didn’t know he had, he threw the doors open and ran down the stairs.

his heart stuttered at the sight of your empty cage and the blood soaking the ground. his legs felt weak and with a choked gasp he fell to his knees. a hand raising to his mouth to cover the sobs that threatened to spill out.

i’m so sorry, i’m so so sorry yn.

after a few agonisingly quiet seconds, he sharply inhaled and slowly began rising again. he’d kill that bastard yuuji first, and once he’s delivered the lifeless corpse of that wicked captain to your sisters, he’d let them have their way with him, it was what he deserved after all.

rintarou turns back to the entrance, feet dragging as his hands shook with both an anger and sadness he’d never felt before. one foot after the other he climbed the stairs slowly, hands gripping the bannister as he made his ascent.

“well, you sure are desperate.” rintarou’s head snapped up at the sound of yuuji’s voice.

there, right in front of the door, stood captain yuuji. he had a twisted smirk on his face, a tone filled with cynicism and an evil glint shining within his eyes. and trapped within his arms, was you. your legs had formed and rintarou couldn’t bear to look down at them, keeping his head up he examined your shaking body, hands gripping yuuji’s arms tightly as he tightened his own grip around your throat.

you were alive. rintarou felt his body relax just the slightest bit, stifling a sigh of relief. he cleared his throat and returned his gaze back to yuuji, glaring at the man who continued to smirk down at the weak man at the bottom of the staircase.

“if i remember correctly, i said i'd kill you the next time i saw you. isn’t that right rintarou?”

gulping back his fear, rintarou holds his ground. “you’d like that wouldn’t you, yuuji? unfortunately for you, that’s not gonna happen.”

with a deep inhale, rintarou brings his fingers to his lips and let out a loud whistle, running up the rest of the stairs, he shoves yuuji aside, ripping you away from his side and dragging your shaking body to the edge of the ship, pushing your body behind his as the air begins to fill with the soft and beautiful harmony of the sirens below.

yuuji’s eyes slowly widen, hands moving to block his ears, screaming for his men to help him, his hands grip his ears tightly, nails digging into his flesh and scalp. yuuji’s legs begin to shake, he runs to the doors of the crews’ bunks, kicking the door open, screaming for his men to wake up.

the ship falls into chaos, men shouting to each other, glasses falling and breaking, kegs spilling over as the men scramble to get up at the begs and cries of their captain, who falls further and further into a breakdown.

yuuji sobs the louder the sirens’ song gets, his men go silent, the chaos stops. one by one the men line up along the sides of the boat. yuuji shakes his head, his trembling lips repeating the same begs of ‘no’ as his men slowly climb over the edges of the ship.

“no… no, no, NO! stop, please — i’m sorry, please no more!” yuuji falls to his knees, hands still gripping the sides of his head, his body is hunched over, tears and drool and snot fall over him as he rocks himself, his cries drowning out the splashes and screams of his crew.

you grip rintarou’s arm, watching the man who tormented and tortured you so harshly for days, fall into a madness you’d never witnessed before. his cries and screams were far more heartbreaking than the pleads of the dying crew mates, if he hadn’t hurt you as much as he did, you’re sure you would’ve felt more remorse.

rin purses his lips, brows drawn together as he watches the mighty captain yuuji become nothing more than a blubbering fool, crumpled on the ground shaking in fear as death looms over him. the men in the water grew silent. most, if not all of them, were dead by now.

yuuji, noticing the silence even through his breakdown, slowly lifts his head up, hands leaving his ears. his sobs grow quiet, but his body still trembles from the held back cries. “i-i’m so—sorry. please, please don’t hurt me…”

an uncomfortable silence stretches out over the ship, you push yourself closer to rintarou, cheek pressing against the muscles of his broad back. “tarou… what’s going to happen to him?” your voice was quiet, shaking as you shivered against him.

“cover your ears, yn…” rintarou gulps. eyes gazing out to the other side of the ship, where your sisters finally climb over the edge, human legs replacing their large tails, they hobble slowly over to yuuji, who slowly turns to look behind him.

he gasps, body flying backwards as he scrambles away from the women who began surrounding him. his screams return, a sound so loud and piercing that even as you press your hands closer to your ears, his wails break through the barrier. you clench your eyes shut, pressing your entire body into rintarou to block out the sound.

yuuji begs like no man ever has, screams as he’s torn apart, he pushes and shoves against the sirens who feast on the man who lost everything twice. he grips at the floorboards of his ship, wide eyes staring up at the sky, whispering and whimpering prayers to his God as he feels the teeth and nails dig further into his flesh.

before he falls into his eternal slumber, his gaze falls onto rintarou, he sees part of your shaking body, and with his last breath he utters a singular phrase, one that rintarou would never be able to utter to you. through and through, yuuji hated sirens and he’d continue to hate them wherever he ended up on the other side.

rintarou turns to you, kneeling down as his hands gripped your wrists, gently pulling them away from your head. “it’s okay, it’s over now. everything is over, you’re safe.” he tried giving you a warm smile, muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, do anything to give you the comfort you so desperately needed.

“yn…” the call from your eldest sister snapped you out of your trembling fear. glistening eyes locking onto the worried ones of your sister. your lips trembled, legs shaking from the overwhelming emotions and pain. slowly, step after step you dragged yourself over to your family, hands flying to hug your sister with your remaining strength.

you could only bring yourself to mutter apologies as your sister held you back tighter, her comforting hold and her hand which caresses the top of your head finally gets you to break. your own wails cry out among the ship, gripping onto your sister tighter than you ever had before. your other sisters gathered around the two of you, whispering words of comfort, some checking on your physical health, others petting you.

for the first time in a long time, you felt the touch of others that had no malicious intentions, the gentle touch and caress of people who loved and cared for you. you were safe and you could finally feel that safety.

“it’ll be okay, yn. we will fix everything, you are safe now.” your eldest sister mumbled into your hair as she held you closer.

you nodded against her, hands still gripped onto her like a child too afraid to leave their mother’s side, too fearful of the wonders the world may hold. you experienced the human world, and you realised that maybe humans didn’t deserve the sympathy you so easily gave them.

“don’t think we’ve forgiven you for running off with that horrid merman though. so many fish in the sea and you go for that?”

you let out a soft laugh as your sisters began berating your taste in men, rintarou’s jaw dropping as they criticised every bit about him from the other side of the ship. he self-consciously crossed his arms over his chest and slumped down, knees pulled up as he lets his head rest against the barrier supporting his back.

“i’m still here, y’know…” he muttered.

—

after being healed by the strange old human lady by the shore and being brought back to your home, you continued to stay by your sister's sides. helping them hunt the men who tried crossing the ocean.

rintarou, however, could not say his return was as welcomed, nor was he happy to be back in the mermaids’ kingdom.

being stripped of his title, rintarou bowed his head in front of the king and queen who could only glare down at the ex-knight in training. he had a hand placed on his heart, the other arm behind his back as he stayed in that position, awaiting the news of his punishment.

“rintarou. not only did you break one of the most sacred rules of our kind, you visited the land of the humans, but you also had relations with a siren! this act of rebellion is disgraceful and taints the image of all mermaids and men alike. for your crimes you should be dead.”

rintarou nodded, still bowing as the king continues to criticise the man. “however,” rintarou lifts his head up ever so slightly, his gaze locking onto the king’s. “because of your… relationship, with that siren girl, you have allowed a new pact to be created between both civilisations, and for that i will not punish you with death. you will be banished from the kingdom, sent away to live out your eternity above land with the humans you so desperately wanted to be like. no longer will you be a man of this kingdom. this is as far as my mercy will go. should you be seen in the waters, we will not hesitate to execute you.”

rintarou’s lips trembled as he once again silently nodded, raising himself to his full height, he mumbled a thank you to the king, before being forcefully grabbed by the guards on both arms.

“i hope this serves as a lesson to the rest of the kingdom, if they wish to parade as humans, they will face the same punishment as this fool!”

on his way out of the castle and soon the entire kingdom, rintarou keeps his gaze down, ignoring the judgemental whispers and the harsh words thrown at him by the citizens of what was once his home.

when he made it to the gates of the kingdom, rintarou lifted his head to get one final glance of the place he’d never see again, the friends he’d never get a chance to be with, and the opportunities he could’ve had. with his final glance he notices all of his friends from training lined up by the gate, smiles of sympathy and sadness cloud their features as they say a final goodbye to their friend.

he feels his heart break. the regret of his actions finally hitting him full force as he’s finally pushed out of the gates, the large structure slamming closed to finally show that he is no longer welcome. a final goodbye is heard from his friends before he swims away to the surface, looking back at the kingdom every so often to watch it grow smaller and smaller.

rintarou finally learnt what greed could cause for a man, and for that, he could never regret anything more.

taglist: @lomlsuna @akaashiwife @plixy @on-crows-wings @1-800-s1ya @sabztov @keiji-in-a-can @tamak00 @erintaro @bertqut1 @usermins @yanihatesu @rntrsuna

[mrskittythulhu]

blue flames and red feathers (2)

part1  part2   part3

wattpad

(18+) Dabi + Hawks + (y/n) fem

Shifting from foot to foot on the sidewalk outside your apartment you waited for your coworkers to arrive. You spent hours shuffling from outfit to outfit until you ran out of time and settled on a blue skater dress. You didn’t care much for the heals but they matched. You knew that if you wore them your feet would be killing you later, but the lack of other options forced you to wear them tonight.

The drive to the club was lively with the radio blaring. You almost wanted to insist that they come back another night when you noticed the long line of patrons wanting to enter the club.  To your dismay one of the girls said she was a friend of someone who worked for Endeavor’s agency and got his rejected club passes. Hawks had told you before that many businesses send freebees to top heroes in hope of them coming. It was a strange type of marketing ploy.

After you each flashed your IDs to the bouncer you made it inside the loud thumping smoke-filled club. Bright lasers filled the dark space and low lights illuminated the bar and seating areas. You watched as your coworkers quickly flocked the bar grabbing shot glasses while you awkwardly maneuvered through the crowds. By the time you regrouped the boisterous group of girls were slamming their second shot glass.

Barely able to hear what the girls next to you were saying it was just easier to smile and nod at the conversation. Swiftly a couple of the girls from the group broke off to the dance floor. Wasn’t long before they were no long dancing with each other but dancing with strange men.

“Here drink this.” One of your coworkers nudged you for your attention handing you a swirling blue liquid inside a small glass cup. With a tight smile on your face, you thanked her. You knew you needed to loosen up the awkward tension was thick. Not wanting to be a wet blanket you drank down the glass. The burn of the alcohol caused you to let out strained coughs. When you regained yourself, you looked around see that your party had fully disbursed leaving you alone at the bar.

With wobbly feet you walked towards the restrooms in hope to text Hawks that you were not having a good time and wanting him to pick you up. Hopefully he wasn’t busy working far away. Between the uncomfortable shoes and the strange alcohol hitting your system each step became harder and harder. As you nearly fell over strong arms wrapped around your mid-section pulling you back into a hard chest. The thump of your body colliding with their then them colliding with a wall knocked you dizzy for a moment.

“Where are you off to little slut?” A deep voice whispered in your ear. A chill ran up your spine as you knew you could never forget the sound of HIS voice. You felt the scratch of metal on the back of your leg as his hand ran up your thigh. He was under your running a finger under your panties at your hip. His fingers felt hot against your soft skin.

“Are you off to fuck another villain in the bathroom?” Dabi was enjoying how your heartrate and breathing started to pick up. Your heavy panting causing your breasts to rise and fall. “That’s right you’re into heroes again. Guess you must be over that bad boy phase already.” Panic filled you from him knowing something so personal. You started to squirm away, but he gripped his free arm over you like a seatbelt leaving his hand light placed over your neck. He started to shush you while the hand under your dress was placed over your clothed core. His fingers pushing the fabric between your folds to soke up your moistier.

“Please Dabi let me go.” You sucked in your bottom lip as you let out a throatily moan from his touch. “I promise I wont tell anyone I saw you here. I just want to go home.” His nose was running along your ear, so you were able to hear him moan as if he was thinking over your words despite the loud music. “Please.” You begged with the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Alright.” His grip on your neck tightened but his large hands didn’t put pressure on your airway. “But I will be seeing you real soon (y/n).” The hand under your dress gave a squeeze of your womanhood and you jumped from the sensation. “Real soon.” He left a chase kiss at the back of your cheek near your ear. As quickly as his hands were on you, they were gone.

You spun around losing your balance in the process to see where he had gone but there was only a wall. With more urgency you made your way into the restroom. You frantically pulled out your phone but no answer from Hawks. After a deep calming breath, you texted him. If it wasn’t for autocorrect none of your rapid-fire messages would have been legible. Despite you promise deep down it would have been foolish not to tell your high-ranking hero boyfriend that a top villain was at the club. Taking a seat on the countertop you downloaded a ride share app quickly typed in your info and waited for the notification that your ride was here to get you.

“Shit.” For the second time you dropped your apartment keys to the floor. Your mind was still uneasy after your run in with Dabi. You didn’t even bother to tell anyone you had gone home. Only hiding in the bathroom like a scared child until your ride showed.

You had convinced yourself that the reason he was after you was to kill you. He knew you had told the police about him and wanted to tie up loose ends. This panic left you trembling. You took both your hands wrapped them around your keys and slowly managed to open your apartment door. A stray tear left your eye at the small victory. Rushing inside you slammed the door shut and locked it quickly. You peeked out the spy hole like a mad woman only letting out a deep sigh when you noticed the hallway was still empty.

Flicking on the living room light you only felt slightly safer in the walls of your apartment. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went into your bedroom. Telling yourself that after a relaxing shower and good night sleep you would feel better. Chugging half the bottle down you felt the cool water chill your racing body. With quick movements pulled your skater dress over your head and tossed it into the hamper.

In the mirror you noticed the large wet spot on your panties from when Dabi had touched you. Slowly you moved a towards your lower half, but you stopped suddenly. In the corner of your eye, you noticed movement in the mirror’s reflection coming from behind you. As you looked over your eyes wide with fear as bright blue eyes stared back at you.

Dabi was leaning with his arms folded over his chest on your bathroom door frame. You spun around nearly loosing balance from your heals. The palms of your hands gripped the top of your dresser keeping you from falling over.

“W-wha..” Your frantic words trailed off.

“I told you I would see you soon.” He started to take long strides over to you.

“Ho- How did you get in here.” He didn’t answer with words only a blank expression and a shrug of his shoulders. Before you could ask another question, he was towering over you. Your eyes stayed locked with his fear kept you trapped in place. You knew what this man was capable of and images of your tragic end on the evening news filled your mind.

“A-are you here to kill me?” A sly smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He placed his hands on the dresser behind you trapping you in place. He leaned his face closer to yours with a hum in his throat. His nose lightly brushed along your cheek when he reached your temple, he placed a chase kiss to your skin.

“I was thinking about it.” He brought his hand up capturing your chin to keep your attention forced on him. “Would be a shame to get rid of such a fine piece of ass like you.” He ran his thumb over your lips on instinct you opened your mouth allowing him to run is thumb over your tongue while you lightly sucked it. “So why don’t you do what you do best and convince me not to kill you.”

His grip on your chin tightened as his thumb firmly pressed on your bottom front teeth. Your sucking stopped as he started to guide your face down. You slid to your knees and placed your hands on his hips. You looked up to see his blue eyes glowing with an unsettling desire. It was clear as glass what he was in your apartment for and its not like the night you shared together was bad experience. The only dread you had was having Hawks suddenly come home and catch you with a top villain.

“Do it just like you did when we met.” He removed his hand from your face while yours went to work on his belt. With nimble hands you undid the button and pulled down the zipper. With a shifting grip you laced your fingers at the top of his pants pulling them down to his mid-thigh. You were now face to face with his cock bulging beneath his shorts. He made it jump knowing you were staring at it.  You tried to hide your smile at the childish act as you slowly looked back up at him.

“Well? get to it slut. We don’t have all night and I have many other positions I plan to have you in before I’m done.” One of his hands slid across your cheek to the back of your head his fingers now laced in your hair. Slender fingers slipped under his waist band to pulling them down until his cock sprung free.

Dabi’s dick is beautiful, for several reasons. It’s long and curves upwards beautifully when he gets hard. There are visible veins along his length, but the one underneath is particularly thick and gorgeous. The perfect canvas for the Jacob’s ladder that he has going from base to tip. The Prince Albert piercing was new. He must have got it done just after you met because it looked well healed. The wide head of his cock is always so pretty and pink. You staired in awe watching the little beads of precum leak around his piercing it was especially mouth-watering. He’s not as girthy as Hawks, but those piercings and veins more than make up for it.

His fingers tighten in your hair as he felt you start to take him in. The taste of metal and salt was thick on your tongue as you tentatively sucked on the tip, and it just tasted so good. You missed what it felt like to have him in your mouth, in your throat.

You picked up his weighty cock, lifting it above your face, so that you could deliberately drag your tongue along his shaft, letting it slowly climb every rung of the ladder while he watched. In awe of how big his dick looked resting against your cute face. How fucking sexy you looked when you locked eyes with him, pupils already blown with lust from how desperately you wanted him to abuse each and every one of your holes.

The sensation of the piercings on your tongue was enough to have you clenching at the thought of him sliding inside you, scratching that itch in a way that you never would admit out loud. How could you tell anyone that one of your best nights was with a top villain. You moaned, a lewd, animalistic sound as you bobbed your head over his length, feeling your tongue dance over the piercings again as the metal fastened within his tip kissed the back of your throat.

He nearly came the first time you took him to the hilt and watching you do it again now was dissolving his restraint.  His fingers fisting into your hair to grip it tight, knuckles turning white as he held himself as still as he could in your throat, willing himself not to cum before easing your off his length with a choked groan.

“Shit, baby,” he murmurs, inhaling a deep breath as he slowly shifted his hips forward, rocking his length in and out of your mouth. He was loving the tears that fell from your eyes as you held back from choking on him.  “You love this dick, don’t cha, doll?”

“Mmhmm,” you mewl, humming around the head as your tongue swirled around the metal and pressed against his sensitive slit lightly flicking his piercing.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his eyes closing as his head dropped back. You began to swallow down the thick hot ropes that hit the back of your throat. As he slowly slid out you continued to lightly suck on his tip making sure to not miss a drop.

“You wanna know what? I actually missed the feeling of being trapped inside that soppin’ cunt of yours.” With a bit of force, he pulled you up to your feet then pushed you on to the bed. Your palms flat on the plush bedding slightly hunched over. You felt a chill across your exposed body as you stood there in your undergarments and heals.

His lips attached to your neck as his fingers went to work to remove your bra. He continued his wet openmouthed kissed along your skin causing goosebumps to form. With a soft thump you heard your bra fall to the floor. He trailed his fingers lightly up your spine causing you to whimper in your throat.

A flat palm placed between your shoulder blades forcing your upper body down to the bed. Dabi leaned over you slightly using some of his wight to keep you down. His free hand started to run along your clothed womanhood. His middle finger pressed the fabric between your lower lips causing the material to become moist from your juices.

“You are such a slut getting off to my cock, what a horny little bitch. But your my bitch aren’t you—yeah, say ‘yes sir’.” He quickly removed his hand from between your legs to send a sharp slap to your cheek.

“Yes sir.” You sharply squealed out.

“Wonder what your little hero boyfriend Hawks would say if he saw you like this? Does he make you as wet as I can?” You ducked your head down in shame. For a moment in your lust filled haze you had forgotten about Hawks and the guilt was twisting at your heart.

A cold chill stunned your body as you heard the click of locks from your front door. Despite the low villainous chuckles from Dabi you were hyper focused on the sound of Hawks’ work boots thumping closer to your bedroom.

“Whoa? I thought you were going to wait for me?” Hawks stood tall in the doorway looking between you and Dabi.

“Hawks!” You called out in panic, but he didn’t react to you. A confused look spread over your face as you took in the words, he just said realizing they were not aimed at you. It was boggling to even fathom that your loving boyfriend in anyway was working with Dabi.

“Aww... look at the little plaything trying to figure it all out.” Dabi’s words were venomous and caused your stomach to twist. You couldn’t help the tears that started to flow from your eyes.

“Come on chickadee don’t be like that.” As Hawks walked closer to you, he removed his jacket and shirt. You felt Dabi shift behind you and heard the rustling of clothes he was likely removing his pants from around his ankles. Hawks stroked your cheek so he could tuck some loose hair behind your ear.

“We just wanted to share you. (y/n) I care about you so much would you really think I would let any harm come to you?” He always has a huge twinkle in his eyes and a silly smile on his face whenever he looks at you but right now there was something slightly dark there. He only had that look when he was in an especially sexual mood. That look always caused heat to build in your panties. His words started to echo in your head as you debated his offer. No harm had come to you so far when you were alone with Dabi in fact you were quite enjoying yourself. The image of both of them having their way with you was enough to get you to start rubbing your legs together to create much needed friction.

“Seems the little slut likes the idea.” Dabi leaned next to your ear. “Not like I really cared what you thought. This isn’t about what you want Its about what we want.” With force Dabi flipped you to your back causing you to squeal in surprise. You looked away toward Hawks to see him removing the last of his clothing.

Hawks’ cock might be nicest you have seen, he has a red tip with a vain running from the tip to the base on the top and the same on the bottom. He started to lazily stroke his length as he crawled on the bed next to your head.

Dabi grabbed your face to the point it started to hurt forcing you to look back at him. His free hand was held up and incased in a blue flame. Your eyes went wide with fear but you dared not to move. Hawks gently stroked the top of your head calming you down slightly but you refused to look away from the flame. His flamed hand went down to your panties and he engulfed them. The heat stung your skin but once enough fabric was gone so was the flame.

Hawks placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and whispered that you were such a ‘good girl’. Dabi slid his hand off your face to grip your throat giving your neck a stern squeeze. His pointer finger and thumb guided your face towards Hawks’ prominent erection. Dabi slid his free hand down into your core the heat that lingered on his fingers from his quark left a warm sensation inside you. Your lips went wide as you gasped from the pleasurable sensation allowing Hawks’ to slip himself past your lips. Dabi wasted no time and removed his fingers from your dripping core and began to slide his own length inside you.

"Fuck baby, yeh that's it shit-", Hawks says grabbing your hair, you let out a moan around his dick as he pulls your hair slightly. “Yeah, you enjoy taking me so well, don’t you, Chickadee?” He hits the back of your throat as he moans. He has his hands in your hair, tugging at it, throwing his head back in accordance with the bobs of your head. You start to bob your head faster, hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue to lick the veins along his cock.

"Ahh~ yeh that's it good girl, suck my cock"

Dabi had his palms underneath your knees, your thighs pressed up towards your chest as his slender body loomed over you, his thick cock sliding inside your tight cunt with slow, hard thrusts. His blue eyes watching the way your tits bounced with each rut of his hips.

“Fuck, doll. You feel so fuckin’ good. Look at your sloppy pussy, taking me so well.” Hawks’ removed himself for a moment from your mouth. You whimpered when you felt Dabi adjust your thighs slightly, slipping your ass further up on his lap as he began to angle his thrusts at a different spot inside you, one that had your eyes rolling back.

Shoving his precum, and saliva-soaked prick back into your mouth until Hawks was sure he was going to cum. You were so keen on helping him, humming with excitement as he fucked your mouth.

You feel him twitching in your mouth, "Fuck baby gonna cum" he says as he holds on to your head in place, thrusting his hips into your face, his cock going deeper into your throat.

"Fuck.. ahh~ shit yeh fuck-" Hawks moans out as he shoots his thick cum into your throat, painting the back of your throat white.

Dabi’s thumb unrelenting against your clit as he began to draw random patterns against it, groaning when he felt you begin to clench around him. Your cunt clenching around his cock as a clear stream began to trickle from your tight cunt. 

Dabi’s eyes instantly looking between where your bodies were connected to watch the liquid seep from your body, splashing against his pelvis, abdomen and your thighs as he continued rutting his hips into you, enjoying the sight of you squirting all over him.

“Shit, that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about doll, you dirty fuckin’ bitch.” The way your cunt was squeezing around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm had Dabi following you into bliss, bottoming inside you a final time as he came deep inside your quivering walls. 

When he pulled his softening cock from your tight cunt his eyes immediately watched the way your cunt squeezed around nothing, unable to resist slipping his fingers down to run through the mixture of your releases, feeling it damp against his skin.

"Your blow jobs really are the best baby" Hawks kiss your forehead, but your body was so numb and buzzing from the after shock of your pleasure you could barely feel it. Your head was dizzy and your vision was blurry from tears. While you felt the bed shift as they moved away from you everything went dark and you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke feeling over heated. Heavy lids opened to survey your surroundings. The heat you felt was Dabi and Hawks sandwiching you between their bodies. With careful movement to not wake either of them you managed yourself out of bed. With light footsteps you made your way to the kitchen for much needed drink of water.

You felt sore, humiliated, and very satisfied with what you remembered doing. Once your thirst was quenched you walked back into your room only to stop at the sight of Dabi and Hawks cuddled together. You held back you giggles and found your phone. After snapping your picture, you hid your phone in your underwear drawer and tossed on an oversized shirt and panties. When you turned back to the bed you could see golden eyes peaking at you.

He lifted his wing and lazily lifted his arm making a small space for you to come back to bed to. You didn’t know the extent of his relationship with Dabi or what it meant for your relationship now that you three all shared an intimate moment. Sleep called to you louder than the million questions swirling in your head as you crawled into place. Hawks kissed your forehead while you felt Dabi shift behind you grunting.

“Night boys.”

[mrskurono]

Schweiden Sex Education: Intercourse || Wakatoshi Ushijima x Fem!Reader

Tags: mention of insecurities, vaginal penetration, slight size kink, soft sex, creampie, sex bruh

Character(s): Wakatoshi Ushijima (hq)

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: this will be the final installment of this mini series, ngl it ended up more popular and more touchy feely than I thought it would. thank you everyone for reading <3

part (1) (2)

inter·course /ˈin(t)ərˌkôrs/

noun; sexual contact between individuals involving penetration

“Do you hate her?”

Ushijima blinked a handful of times at the voice going unregistered to him. Korai of course had to repeat himself.

“Do you hate our manager or something?” The second to newest Schweiden member craned his neck around to look at the same lady talking with the captain, “I mean...even since I started last season it seems like it but I dunno, do you just hate her or something?”

No longer the new guys, Ushijima still felt confused on what his teammate meant, “Why would you say that? I’ve never said that.”

Korai shrugged. White haired man taking the ball from his bigger mates grasp and chucking the volleyball at the real newbie coming into the gym when Tobio arrived. Korai gut laughed when the dark haired man didn’t catch it and only wasted a little more time before wiping at his eyes to look back at Ushijima with what he’d just said, “You spend so much time staring at her. Thought maybe you hated it her since never talked to her.”

Ushijima’s brows pinched in the middle with the deepest furrow, “I never said I hated anyone.”

Once more with a shrug Korai figured he’d drop it, “Well man, if you don’t hate her. You must have one hell of a crush on her then.”

The word rung in his head when you said it.

Sex.

You were naked under him. Rightfully so after his first attempt to bring you, or any woman, to an orgasm. He should feel proud if not a little smug. All he felt was nervous. 

“Ok....sex,” You inhaled deeply now that most of your senses was collected. The real thing felt a lot different than your own hand and the same scenario being lit up on the tiny screen of your phone. Slight tingle from that orgasm you were wondering if you had been that hard up for a hook up. Dashing that from your mind you refocus on the Schweiden player before you, “I mean...I guess there’s not a lot to say about it. I’m sure you’ve seen porn or Korai I’m pretty sure played something off of Pornhub in the locker room at least once.”

That light anecdote didn’t seem to tear the man’s concentration away from you. Leaving you to wiggle a bit and get higher up on the bed. Thinking maybe he was going to follow. Ushijima remained staring at you with that all too familiar look on his face. A look you recall years worth of seeing from across the gyms at practice.

Without warning it dawns on you, maybe he doesn’t actually want to have sex with you. A feeling nothing short of claustrophobic when it hits you. The tingle you’ve felt since the locker room fizzles out with vigor. You’re exposed. Silly. Regretful. Suddenly to recount your words.

“I mean-” You stumble over words falling from your lips while looking up at him and trying to cover some part of you, “We don’t have to- Um Ushiwa- Uh Ushijima- I uh it’s fine if you don’t want to we can just forget this-”

“I don’t hate you.”

The slur of words from your mouth catch. His surprising you more. You stop trying to cover yourself with what little blanket you can up root. Instead your brows furrow uncharacteristically at him at the foot of the bed.

“What?”

Olive eyes dropping from you it’s the first time since he joined three years ago that you saw him actually break eye contact first. You’re nothing short of surprised when Ushijima, still naked, sits back on the edge of the bed. Easing up on the need to cover yourself. You realize he’s talking about something entirely different.

Brows pinched together you ask again what he meant. Crawling towards him now. Kneeling beside him unsure if you should lay a hand on him or something. His face seems complacent like normal but with the way he sounded. It just didn’t sound right to you.

Ushijima lifts his gaze to meet your naked body right next to his. Of course he couldn’t tear them away from your form before him. All those times he’d stared at you over the years. Only now realizing he’d been trying to think what you looked like in this exact light.

“...I...Korai thought I hated you,” He confesses in the weirdest manner. Finding the one thing he couldn’t take his eyes off of wasn’t your naked body. But your face, “I don’t....I never did. I just- I think I love you and it might have been my fault if I-”

Cut off directly by the feeling of your lips against his. There’s a spilt second the man doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Only to be thankful when he felt your hands gently take his and place them on your sides. Getting the gesture Ushijima curled his broad arms around your bare waist just as you curled your own arms around his neck. Delaying the need for a breath in the passionate kiss until finally neither of you could hold out.

“Lets make love instead,” You mutter against his lips. Feeling for the first time Ushijima trying to push back into the kiss like he wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. Drawing your fingers down from the nape of his neck. Small circles over his collar bone to dip down between his well defined chest, you look up at him and smile, “...because I think I might be in love with you.”

Nothing short of a glimmer in the otherwise deadpan expression. Ushijima for the first time since the locker roomer took a kiss from you. Not just taking it. He downright kissed you back into the middle of the bed. Lips never leaving yours it was barely any fumbling as he scooped his big hands under your bottom and pulled you into his hips. Leaving you to hold onto his shoulders as the urgency of the kiss translated over to your movements together.

Sooner than later you felt his cock rub against your inner thigh. Only breaking the kiss enough as you kissed his cheek and the corner of his mouth with a breathy whisper, “Put it in...please, I want you to do it.”

Nodding there wasn’t a question to be asked. Ushijima understood more than anything where he wanted his cock to go. You telling him only sealed the fact he craved no one else.

Gripping his cock there’s a second when you adjust your hips and allow his length to slip up between your soaked folds. Earning a pleasant moan to bubble up between your lips. Any other time you might have been worried to take someone so big. But that was the last thing in your mind right now. Consumed with need all you could think of was the stretch of his cock inside you.

Rewarded with the real thing faster than anything else. You gasp. Making him stop half way to which you panic and tell him through a loud moan to keep going. Ushijima can’t stop but sink his thick cock down to the base in your sopping wet cunt. Nothing he could even imagine prepared him for this.

“W-Warm-” The low rumble of a moan echoed in his chest. Ushijima unsure what to do pushed his lips back onto yours. Just the way your walls clenched around him and you engulfed his senses was ethereal to him.

“Move....how you wanna,” You whisper against his lips, “I want you to fuck me like you’ve been wanting to all these years.”

There was hesitation. You were right he had seen porn and what they did. But none of that seemed desirable. Right now all he wanted to do was feel you. Consume you. Make every fiber of his being tingle with your body.

Slow to start Ushijima began rocking his hips into yours. Each movement earning more than just a lowly moan from you. Assured that it was wonderful by your praise and touching all over him. Soon it became a need for him to snap his hips into yours. Watch you squirm under him, mouth agape and eyes locked onto him. Everything intoxicating to every single sense the man had.

“ ‘gonna cum-” You bite back a moan as your hips bounce with each forceful thrust, “I- I think I’m gonna cum-”

“Please-” Ushijima buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting, thrusts hard and deep as he felt himself approaching a familiar feeling, “Please cum- I want you-”

Tongue gliding over your parted lips and swallowing the knot in your throat. It’s nothing like the knot growing in your stomach. Boxed in completely by the enormous man above you. It’s hardly possible to snake your hand down to your clit. But when you do your free hand gripes the back of his neck as your fingers dance around your already sensitive bud, “I- It’s too much- Fuck-”

For a split second he wonders what is too much but that is dashed when the shudder in your body starts at your toes and every inch of you twitches under him. Sealing the deal for Ushijima when he feels nothing short of heaven when your cunt tightens around him in a way no mouth or hand could ever mimic. All that stamina in the world for nothing when he pushes his hips into yours. Desperate to follow your lead.

Rutting into you as deep as he can until the warm gush of cum overflows into your cunt. You’d never felt anything so intimate yet even as his lips found yours to kiss you. The twitch of Ushijima’s cock with each spurt of cum had you moaning into the kiss like a virgin all over again. 

Both of you breathing harder than expected into the kiss. Finally came down from the high. His cock still buried in you and most of your body limp under him. You take a moment to swallow as you look up at the man before you. This time he was staring but you didn’t feel the need to turn away. Instead you smiled at him with a little giggle. And for the first time in nearly four years, Ushijima smiled back at you.

Minor Epilogue ;|

“Where’s Ushiwaka?” Korai dribbled the volleyball as he looked back towards the locker room.

Tobio looked up from his bottle after fiddling with the lid, “Hirugami didn’t say anything?”

White brows pinched together Korai bounced the ball as high as he could manage and huffed, “This is day three! He’s late and we get to wait for him!”

“You could just practice with Romeo and Sokolov before he comes.” Tobio offered without much concern as he grabbed the volleyball before Korai could catch it.

“Don’t break the lights Hoshiumi!” Hirugami shouted across the gym as he caught sight of one of the second youngest Schweiden harassing the volleyballs.

Grumbling to himself Korai snatched the ball back from Tobio, “Of course Hirugami-san!” Content with dribbling the ball at a much more manageable height, Korai looked around for a short stint at attendance, “You notice our manager has been late recently too?”

“And?” Tobio shouldered his duffel bag without a chance of even feigning interest in his teammates rant.

Brows still pinched Korai glared out at the double doors of the Schweiden’s gym, “I bet they’re hooking up. I bet- Look!” Korai skidded to a stop mid sentence when through the double doors it was the late Schweiden in question. Undoubtedly with their manager at his side. Like a detective Korai pounced on the chance to interrogate them but that was lost among the chaos when all of the Scweiden team witnessed Ushijima lean down and give their ever so wonderful team manager a kiss on the lips.

That’s when all insanity broke loose. 

Korai was on them like stink on shit. Tobio and Toshiro ready to intercept Korai before his rabid-ness scared the new love birds away. Tatsuto wanting a better look at the drama amongst the crew. Leaving Fukuro and Nicollas to exchange glances at each other as they hoisted up the volleyball net.

“Is that Ushijima and y/n?” Nicollas peered over to the bustling drama at the front of the gym.

Fukuro, minding his own business, nodded, “Think they’ve been going out for a while now.”

Smiling as Ushijima’s face seemed stone serious as ever and y/n’s face flush red as the white haired Schweiden had some serious question, Nicollas laughed as remembered that feeling, “Ah young love....wish there was an educational course one could take when learning the affairs of the heart.”

Fukuro snort laughed and tightened the bindings on the net they’d be using for practice if they ever stopped their gawking, “Yeah, we call that sex ed here.”

Nicollas chuckled when he saw their lovely manager punch Korai in the side. Revealing the oddest sight of Ushijima smiling ever so slightly on his stoic features while the rest of the Scweiden’s rallied around the new couple as the two seniors could only stand back and laugh, “Sex and love education....I think we could all use that.”

a/n: The end is finally here! Honestly I can’t believe I’ve actually finished a series in the first place! To everyone who’s read and supported it thank you from the bottom of my heart. This was too much fun to write and I won’t lie I might have a little soft spot in my heart for Ushijima now <3

[silversatoru]

Hello! I saw that you’re taking requests. I hope this is the right place to request, I’m new to tumblr haha.

Could I request, Megumi x F!reader, heavy angst breakup sex? The rest of the details are completely up to you if that’s okay!

I loved the gojo one btw!

yes yes here u go!! i hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for!

burdens

fushuguro megumi x nonsorcerer f!reader

synopsis: you and megumi have been dating for a few months now, and he decides it’s time to call it quits. he’d rather break your heart than have to watch you die, but not before he gets to feel you one last time

tags/warnings: smut, angst, break-up sex, nsfw (18+), takes place in the jjk universe but reader is not a sorcerer

word count: 2484

a/n: writing angsty megumi breaks my heart every single time. i jus want to give him a hug

Megumi watched anxiously across the room as a couple nurses finished applying bandages to your arm, your eyebrows knitted together in pain as they brushed over the large gashes. He noticed the small twitches in your other hand —probably caused by a mixture of pain and anxiety. You were stupidly strong, probably one of the tenacious people he’d ever met, but he could tell that this was getting to you. All of the curses you couldn’t see, the jujutsu techniques that you didn’t understand, it was all becoming overwhelming — dangerous even.

The two of you had been on a date a few hours ago, a sushi dinner and then a walk in the park — something simple — because even the simplest things felt wonderful when he was with you. And that’s exactly how things felt today, wonderful, or at least they did before the two of you ran into a hideous curse. 

He should have noticed it, picked up on it’s cursed energy, anything — but he was so terribly distracted when he was around you. So when it caught both of you off guard and wrapped it’s grotesque fingers around your fragile body, he felt nothing but guilt. Nothing but shame and disappointment in himself that he had failed to protect you yet again. Exorcising it was easy of course, but the damage had already been done — your beautiful arm had been torn to shreds by the monster. Now the two of you were sitting in a pale, white hospital room telling lies about how you were attacked by a stray dog. 

Thankfully, other than the lacerations down your arm you were okay, your blood loss wasn’t too severe and the two of you had gotten here before any kind of infection could crawl it’s way into your skin. 

The car ride back to your small Tokyo apartment was dreadfully quiet. You’d made several attempts at conversation but Megumi continued to shut them down, a dark shadow of expressions cast over his face. You told him several times that this wasn’t his fault, that you understood the risks of dating him, but he just kept brushing you off. He’d told you several times to “shut up” or “be quiet”, and your heart ached at his bitter words — he’d never talked to you that way before tonight. 

When the two of you walked into your apartment, he was quick to slam the door shut and wrap a firm arm around your waist. He moved with a sense of urgency, forcing you back against the wall and letting hot, heavy breaths fall against your neck.

“Megumi-,” You pressed a hand to his chest, attempting to put some distance between the two of you but failing miserably — he was much too strong. 

You wished you could take a peek into his head, unravel his thoughts and figure out what the hell he was thinking. He was acting incredibly out of character since the two of you had left the hospital, and your chest was starting to throb with anxiety. 

He pressed a wet, messy kiss to your lips, making your heart leap into your throat and your stomach churn. You graciously accepted the kiss, of course, his lips against yours was the most blissful feeling in the world. However, as his tongue moved roughly around your mouth and his teeth bit down fiercely on your bottom lip, uncertainty crawled up your skin. Megumi was always so gentle with you, only ever touching you in the most gingerly ways, treating your body like a piece of the most priceless glass. So, why now was he gripping your skin so tightly you thought it might bruise? Why were his kisses sure to leave your lips swollen and sore? 

“Please, honey, let me have you,” He suddenly spoke, stirring you out of your thoughts. 

Honey, it was his favorite name for you, in fact he rarely called you by your actual name. Normally, that name sent butterflies swirling through your stomach, but this time was different. He said the word as if it left a sour taste in his mouth, as if he regretted having to call you that. 

“W-what?” You looked up at him with big eyes, big eyes that he refused to look into.

“Give me permission to touch you, please,” His voice was filled with so many emotions all at once — anger, despair, regret, need, hunger — there was probably more but he was impossibly hard to read right now. 

“Why are you acting like this?” You tried to plead with him, reaching up and cupping a hand around his soft cheek. 

“God, just say yes. Please just say yes and then stop talking,” His voice was almost a growl as this point, so uncharacteristically resentful. 

“I mean- yes? Of course? You’re always allowed to touch me. But why-” You spoke in confused, frantic breaths. 

“Thank you,” He immediately cut you off after gaining consent, wrapping a stiff hand around your wrist and practically dragging you back to your bedroom. 

He pushed you towards your large, queen-sized bed and then slipped his hands underneath his shirt and yanked it over his head in one long, swift motion. 

“Take your clothes off,” He demanded, undoing the drawstring of his sweatpants and letting them fall into a heap at his ankles. 

You wordlessly obliged, attempting to convince yourself that he needed this. He needed this and after you gave it to him, things would go back to normal — he’d just had a rough day, that’s all. 

It took him mere moments to aggressively pin you underneath him, though he was tediously avoiding your injured arm. He pressed a series of sloppy, wet kisses to your collarbone, slowly moving up to your neck and leaving painful imperfections all over your skin. You winced as he began to suck on a particularly sensitive spot, nibbling hard enough to make your skin sting and burn under his tongue. He continued to trail hungry, relentless kisses down the entirety of your body, covering every inch of your skin in aching love marks. You felt like you were on fire, the subtle pain and immense pleasure beginning to cloud your head — you were even starting to forget how tense things had been between the two of you just moments ago. 

Megumi sat up and stared down at you as he fumbled with his boxers, sliding them off and throwing them to the floor. He needed this more than he’d ever needed anything in his entire life — he needed to feel you one last time and then he needed to break your heart. 

He reached down and ran a single, slender finger along the folds of your entrance, a fire igniting in his eyes when he felt how slick you already were. 

“God, you’re too perfect,” He murmured, giving a harsh squeeze to the skin around either side of your hips, “Get on your hands and knees”.

His praise sent goosebumps up your arms and light blush across your cheeks, making things feel almost-normal. You flipped yourself over onto your knees, stretching your arms out against the bed and arching your back as hard as you could. 

With absolutely no warning, he thrusted forward with incredible force, sheathing himself deep inside you and causing a strangled scream to lurch from your lungs. His head dipped low as he let out a throaty groan, his long black hair hanging lazily over his face. Sharp breaths and pained whimpers rolled from your lips, your knuckles turning white from squeezing the bed sheets so hard. 

Megumi always started slow, he always whispered sweet praises into your ears, always asked if you felt okay — nothing between the two of you had ever been this rough and unforgiving. This time he set a steady pace right from the start, his hips rolling ruthlessly as he slammed himself into you. Your breaths were terribly uneven and completely muffled by the pillow your face was forced into. You gasped for air as he stroked with unbelievable force, catching the pillowcase in your teeth and biting down hard on the fabric. 

His pace slowed for a mere second, and you felt his fingers intertwine themselves in your soft locks of hair. You sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening into a fist and yanking your head backwards. Once his hand was secured around the roots of your hair, his strokes intensified again. 

The initial pain of taking his forceful cock had subsided and replaced itself with immense pleasure, but your scalp was ablaze with a horrible, piercing pain as he tugged at your hair. The overwhelming combination of complete agony and intoxicating bliss caused a few tears to form at the edges of your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Your hips and ass began to ache, and you knew you’d be terribly sore tomorrow morning. The pain was starting to become more prominent and it was getting increasingly difficult to hold your back at such an uncomfortable arch. 

Megumi lifted his spare hand to his forehead, swiftly wiping the small beads of sweat that were forming above his eyebrows. He panted hard, moans and strings of curse words leaving his throat as he continued to rail you into oblivion. His throbbing member was starting to go numb from the devastating amount of stimulation, and he knew he’d need to finish soon. 

“Squeeze your legs,” His words were less of an instruction and more of a demand. 

You quickly complied, squeezing your legs closer together and feeling your walls constrict around his full length. The euphoric sensation was enough to send Megumi falling over the edge, his head flying backwards as he ripped his member free of your warm grasp. He wrapped his long fingers firmly around himself, jerking hard as he sprayed his emanation all over your beautifully arched back. Choked moans and aggressive cuss-words flew from his gritted teeth as his climax coursed through his body in waves. 

As the wonderful feelings finally started to wash away, he stared down at you with a horrible emptiness in his eyes — now came the hard part. 

He stood up and wordlessly walked into your bathroom, retrieving a towel to clean you up with. He wiped it lazily over your back and then tossed it into your hamper before beginning to collect his clothes that were strewn across the bedroom floor. 

“What about me?” You were sitting up now, your favorite blanket pulled up to your chin and clinging to your last shreds of hope.

You felt the need to hide your exposed body now that the two of your were done, his coldness heightening every insecurity you had.

“I have to go. Do it yourself,” He shot you a sideways glance, pulling his loose sweats around his waist. 

“What? Why do I feel like you’re not going to come back?” You could no longer fight the tears that had been lingering in your eyes for hours now. 

Everything was starting to make sense — you were slowly piecing everything together. His silence at the hospital, his refusal to speak to you in the car, his sudden hunger towards you, and now his unusual coldness as he practically told you to go fuck yourself. He was going to break up with you, wasn’t he? But why?

“Because I’m not. I think we should end things here”.

“So, that’s it? You just wanted to use me like a fuck-toy one last time, is that what this was?” You tried hard to keep your voice steady, but a few cracks forced their way out. 

“That’s really all you were good for anyway,” His words were like a knife to the heart, “You’re nothing but a burden outside of that”. 

A burden? That’s all you ever were to him? You refused to believe that, but his words were doing an excellent job at convincing you. After all, he was constantly protecting you from those terrifying monsters he called curses — maybe that really was a burden on him. You didn’t have any kind of other-worldly powers like Megumi did, so you truly were helpless whenever one of those things was around. Hell, until they were literally threatening your life, you couldn’t even see them. 

“You’re springing this on me out of nowhere, Megumi. You were completely normal just a few hours ago when we were eating at that sushi place! Is this because of that curse and my arm? Because if it is I’ll just work harder! You can teach me to use those cursed tools you told me about!” Tears were streaming down your face as you screamed helplessly at him.

“You’d still be too weak even if I did teach you to use a weapon or two. Things between us just aren’t going to work, okay? Don’t make me keep saying it,” He shook his head, slipping on his shoes and walking towards the bedroom door.

“I hate you, Fushiguro Megumi,” You spat out his full name, “You could at least be honest with me. You could tell me you’re afraid of losing me, that you don’t want me to get hurt — but this ‘you’re nothing but a burden’ garbage that you’re spewing is bullshit and you know it”. 

“Maybe. But if I told you those other things instead, you wouldn’t listen, would you? You’d just keep telling me that the risk of being with me is worth it,” He turned around and looked at you with heavy, pained eyes.

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”. 

He left after that, slamming the door behind him before you even had a chance to say anything. He couldn’t bear the idea of seeing you die — seeing a curse pop your head off or strangle your body into horrifying shapes. No matter how broken his heart felt leaving you behind, it was still better than being the reason you suffered a young, unfair death. 

It turned out that you were never the burden — the real burden was being born into the cursed life of a jujutsu sorcerer. A life of risk and regret, pain and suffering, watching people die young and in the most grotesque ways. Somewhere, in another universe, Megumi liked to think that he was born into a normal, mundane life where he was able to love you endlessly and give you everything you ever deserved. And god — in his eyes you deserved the entire fucking world. 

[gouged-out-eyes]

From The Stars, Part 9

Summary: Kira moved out of town for isolation and peace and quiet. But that quickly gets turned on its head when a spaceship crash lands not far from her house and a strange creature decides she's its new queen. Luck had never been on Kira's side, but things are going to get a lot worse for her as she's forced into this new role and everything her new alien subject thinks it entails.

Warnings: Lying, shady parents, some hinted at violence at the end.

Authors Note: Again, this has been up on my Ao3 since like February. Link is in my masterlist if you prefer to follow there and get updates sooner. There’s going to be only a couple more parts to this one however, so might not even matter. 

MASTERLIST

Kira watches the SUV roll down the hill and into the lake. It’s cloudy, the moon and stars covered, bathing the trees in darkness. Kira’s only light is from the flashlight in her hand, aimed at the SUV currently sinking in the lake. She won’t move until it’s gone under completely, not wanting anyone to see what’s happening.

Two months ago if you had told her she would be standing in the woods in the middle of the night sinking a federal agent’s SUV in the lake to cover up their murder by her alien babies, she would have thought you were insane. But now she felt nothing. Her babies needed to eat and it was just unfortunate that the Feds happened to be the first to show up.

Kira waits until the bubbles have stopped before turning, making her way up the hill and back to the road. It’s a bit of a hike back to her house, the air cold enough she can see her breath fog in front of her. Her mind goes to her children and if they’re warm enough in the barn. Her alien hadn’t shown any signs of minding the cold, but her children were obviously different than him, and she can’t help but wonder if they can tell the temperature difference.

She feels a sense of urgency as she gets closer to her house, hating being apart from her family. They were her family now. Her children, their father. She doesn’t understand the relationship between them, she doesn’t even know if it’s biologically possible for her to love an alien. Humans could feel emotions towards animals, inanimate objects. Emotions including love. Who’s to say it’s not possible to feel the same for an alien lifeform she has no communication with who had forcibly impregnated her with his eggs. Maybe it’s only the oxytocin talking, the immediate motherly instinct she had felt over her babies that was drawing her closer to her alien. Or maybe it was because around him, she felt safe.  

Kira opens the door to her barn when she returns to her property, quickly closing it behind her as her babies run up to her. They’re hip-height now, growing faster than she thought possible. All eight of them surround her, bumping her gently with their heads. She smiles down at them, patting them each on their smooth heads. They let out content little cries, warming Kira’s heart. Her alien approaches her, nudging her gently with his own head. She gently strokes its elongated head, leaning against him.

Her eyes drift closed, her brain buzzing with energy. She focuses on it more and finds she can see with her eyes closed. The barn looks distorted like she’s seeing out of a fish-eye lens. The colors are darker, not quite as vibrant with her own eyes, but she can hear every small sound wave bouncing off the walls. She can hear something speaking, not words but a sort of idea in her mind. She can feel her eight babies around her, all of them like strings connected to her mind.

She wants to lose herself in the sensations, bury herself in them, and never come out, but her phone vibrating in her pocket snaps her out of it. She pulls away from her alien, her brain reeling for a moment before she centers herself back on Earth.

“I have to take this. I’ll be back.” She says, backing away from her babies and her alien.

She leaves them in the barn, heading back towards her house. She looks at her phone. She doesn’t want to answer, but she knows she has to.

“Hello?”

“Kira? God, I thought something had happened to you! I was going to come and check on you but...you sounded so sick when we talked last and then you weren’t answering.”

Kira feels a pang of guilt in her chest. “I’m sorry, dad. I was on some heavy meds. It was some kind of viral thing. Wiped me out for a few days. I didn’t even think to look at my phone. I’m doing better now though.”

“That’s good. That’s...really good.”

“Do you want to come over? Catch up a little?”

“Yes. That would be great.”

*********

Kira sets the cups of coffee on the kitchen table before taking a seat. Her dad looks old. Older than the last time she saw him. He’s had something on his mind. She can tell by how messy his hair looks. He would always run his fingers through his hair repeatedly when he was thinking hard. Her mother used to joke he’d go bald from doing it one day. Now that she looked at him, Kira can see his hair is thinning. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks about as bad as she does, but she doesn't think he birthed alien eggs days ago.

“Kira...I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. About you. About this place.”

Kira sips her coffee. It’s scalding but she can’t bring herself to care. She hums in response, letting him continue.

He runs his finger in a circle around the rim of the cup. It’s an old habit. It means bad news. “You’re all alone out here. I shouldn’t have left you out here by yourself. But...your mother...I just couldn’t...”

Kira reaches out, putting a hand over his. It feels strange to her, to touch human skin again. She almost doesn’t like it. “It’s okay. I know.”

Her dad stares into her eyes for a moment, taking her in. “There’s so much she wanted to tell you. She begged me to tell you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t face the truth. I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t sure you’d believe me.”

Kira frowns, her stomach churning. She doesn't like his words. “Dad...what are you talking about?”

He sighs, taking a long drink of his coffee, staring out the back door. “I remember it like it was yesterday. Right out there. Where the roses are. It used to be hydrangeas before...before you arrived.” He runs a hand over his face. “God, I should have told you this years ago Kira...”

“Dad...you’re scaring me.” Kira’s hands are shaking as she sets her coffee cup down.

Her dad turns back to look at her, holding her gaze. “You’re not ours.”

Kira’s body goes cold at his words, a strange feeling running through her. Her whole life she’d been told they were her parents. This was her dad sitting across from her. And now...

“W-What?” She pulls her hands into her lap, squeezing them into fists to stop them from shaking.

“We don’t know where you came from. Well...we sort of knew...” Her dad glances back out at the garden before looking at her again. “Kira...you fell from the sky.”

Kira can’t say anything. None of it was making sense. Her brain was buzzing, churning, his words seeming like a foreign language. Thankfully he doesn’t wait for her to respond.

“It happened almost twenty years ago. It was almost dark. Your mother was outside planting tulips on the other side of the garden. I was making dinner. Grilling, like I used to. Everything was quiet like it gets out here, but then...the sky exploded. Blew the windows out, it was so loud. Came down in a ball of fire right into your mother’s hydrangeas. I thought it was the end of the world for a moment, but then...your mother was always so quick to act. Put the fire out with the garden hose. I thought it was some kind of meteor, but once the flames died, I could see what it was. It was...some sort of space pod. We tried and tried to get it open, see inside. Eventually, we managed to pry it open and inside...You couldn’t have been more than four years old. Teary-eyed and sucking your thumb. You looked so human.”

He runs a hand down his face. Kira can see the tears in his eyes.

“The feds were on us almost immediately. I wanted to turn you over to them, but your mother refused. She knew what would happen to you if we did. So we hid you. Made up some bullshit story. The feds didn’t believe us, but we were insistent.”

Kira’s mind begins to work at high speed. The visits from the feds suddenly didn’t seem so strange anymore.

“You were so human in every way. Almost every way. You never got sick. Kids always got sick but you never did. You could bend metal with your bare hands and you could hear things miles away. Your mother taught you to control it. She was better at that than I was. I made it my job to make you feel as normal as possible. She dealt with all the...strangeness. That’s why when you told me you were sick...I knew something had to be wrong. Something was going on. You’ve never been sick before.”

Kira clenches her fists tighter, taking in her father’s words. She had arrived on Earth in a spaceship? She supposedly had superpowers? He was right in one thing...she had never been sick before. She just thought it was a good immune system. But apparently, it was something else. Something more.

“Kira...please say something.”

“I don’t...” Kira bites her lip, breathing deeply. “You expect me to believe that? That I fell out of the sky in a spaceship and...I’m supposed to be what, Superman?”

“No, it’s...” Her dad sighs, looking down at his coffee. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I wanted your mother to tell you from the beginning but...she thought it would be best...if you thought you were normal...”

Kira stands from the table, unable to sit anymore. “Bullshit. I call bullshit.” She makes her way to the back door, looking out at the roses. The place she supposedly crash-landed on Earth. “You had an affair, didn’t you? I was never my mother’s child and you couldn’t live with that so you made up some bullshit story to hide it! That’s why you couldn’t stay!”

“Kira, you know I would never have...”

“I don’t know anything anymore.” She clenches her fists again, glaring at him. “I don’t know what’s more unbelievable. The story that might be true or that you would spew some bullshit to try and hide something else you did to fuck up.”

“Kira, I loved your mother!” Her father stands from the table, knocking over the chair. “I loved her more than anything. But we couldn’t...” He takes a deep breath. “We tried. We tried so many times. She wanted so badly...but we couldn’t. Then you fell out of the sky like an answer to our prayers.”

Kira feels tears prick behind her eyes. The story is starting to sound not so fake the more she thinks about it. She had an alien hiding in her barn with her babies she had birthed after mating with him. An alien that had crashed to Earth and found her and chosen her. If she was also an alien...it would make her new reality not quite so strange anymore.

“Kira...I’m sorry...”

“I want you to leave.” She says, her voice shaking. She hates it. She turns back to face her dad. “Get out. Go home. Don’t come back here.”

Her father stares at her brokenly for a moment before grabbing his coat and heading towards the door. Kira stays where she is until she hears his car door shut before heading out to the barn. She’s shaking by the time she reaches the door, slipping inside quickly and closing the door.

She takes a few steps into the darkness before dropping to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. She’s overwhelmed, not knowing what to believe or even what to think. If the story was true, then so much of what had happened made perfect sense. But if her dad was lying to her to cover up something else...either way he had lied to her. He had hidden the truth about her for her entire life. She feels anger bubble up inside her.

Her children are by her side in seconds, snuggling up to her. She reaches out to them, touching them, solidifying herself in reality. She should have died. She had carried eight eggs to term and birthed them. She had lost so much blood...too much blood. But here she was, mostly healthy with no medical help. She had never been sick a day in her life. She had managed to tame an alien simply with her presence. She had seen what he was capable of. He could have killed her instantly that night, but something about her had stopped him.

Maybe she was alien.

Kira is on her feet as soon as the barn door slides open. It hits the other side with a slam, the shadow of her father standing in the doorway. Her heart leaps to her throat, the buzzing of her babies loud in her ears.

“Kira...what the hell?”

“Dad...you should have just gone home.”

[bepp-ers]

“Ok. So ive read fanfics and headcanons of yandere!Diavolo basically getting with MC to annoy or make Lucifer jealous. What if MC feels like Diavolo is doing this and try to say no whenever Dia tries to ask them out? Hes the the future king and rarely gets told no. I feel like he wouldnt accept MC's refusal.”

Yandere!Diavolo x MC. Thanks beautiful anon for requesting. And it ended up being gender neutral because it just did. Also ever so slight Barbatos x Reader too bc i errr simp-- Enjoy lovelies! <3

TW: Kidnapping, warnings of physical abuse, deceit, emotional manipulation, Diavolo being a bitch

“Are you afraid?”

You were seriously annoyed. Living in the Devildom, fun right? 

Apparently not with the Prince around. Diavolo was nice, you supposed but very much arrogant. 

So here you were, faced with yet another proposition. 

“Look, Diavolo you’re nice but once again it’s got to be a no. Please understand that, I mean no disrespect.” You were a bit nervous, the way his eyes narrowed and his smug smile widened.

“Of course. But one day maybe you will give me a chance.” You forced a smile and turned to leave, wanting to return back to the house of lamentation.

- 

“Oooh, MC you’re in a bad mood! What’s wrong?” As you walked into the kitchen to grab a drink, you heard Asmo quip at you.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m just tired...” You leant on the counter and sighed. “Come now, we both know it’s something more than that. You can tell me!”

“Fine, it’s Diavolo again.” “Eh? Again?” “Yep. He keeps asking me to be with him, and I’m almost certain it’s to make Lucifer jealous.” 

Asmo tapped his chin in thought. “Hm, well that is a problem. I can’t help you, although you’re super lucky to have the future King after you. Maybe Lucifer can help?”

You blinked. “Hey that’s not a bad idea. Thanks Asmo!”

You hopped down from the counter and left, to hopefully find some help on the situation.

-

Knock knock!

“Enter.” You quietly stepped into Lucifer’s study, where he was doing goodness knows what.

“Ah, MC. Need something?” You sank into one of the chairs and sighed. “I need you to talk to Diavolo for me.”

The scratching of the pen stopped at once and Lucifer fixed you with a look. “Pardon?”

“I meant what I said. I have utmost respect for Diavolo, but at the moment he seems... He won’t take my ‘no’ for an answer in being his partner. And he won’t listen to me, so I was hoping you could talk to him?”

Lucifer paused for a moment, taking in the information. 

“I see. So, you want me to discuss with Diavolo why you don’t wish to be his partner?” “Please.” “Very well. Next week’s student council meeting will--”

“I need you to do it as soon as you can.” Lucifer gave you a small smile. “MC, I appreciate the concern but I can assure you Diavolo means no harm. He is simply not used to being refused something.”

You stood up, and shook your head. “You don’t understand... Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” 

With that, you left.

After closing the door in annoyance, you groaned, heading back to your room. It was unfair! No one saw the urgency of the situation!

‘Who else can I talk to...? Lucifer will only talk to him next week, and I don’t think any of the brothers would want to talk to him...’

An idea popped into your head, and you grabbed your D.D.D.

Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on a fairly unused one. 

Riiing... Riiing.... Click!

“MC. What a pleasant call.” 

“Hey, Barbatos. Listen, I need to talk to you about something, but I’d prefer to do it in person.” “That is completely fine. Would you like to come over tomorrow?”

You sighed in some relief. “Yeah, yeah that’s brilliant. Thanks.” “It’s no problem. I’ll escort you, if you’d like.” “Mm, thanks Barbatos. See you tomorrow.”

You hung up and grinned. Why hadn’t you thought of that before? Barbatos could help for sure... right?

-

In the morning, at breakfast you informed the brothers of where you’d be going.

“So what are you doing today, MC? You could come with me to Devil’s Kitchen-” “Or you could come buy a matching outfit with me for Devilgram!” “Yeah, or they could stay in and play the new game with me? Only if they wanted, of course-!”

You chuckled at the brothers bickering. “Actually I’m going out today, so I can’t join any of you.”

“Oh? And where are you going?” “To spend some time with Barbatos actually.” “Huh?! Why are you hanging out with that butler?” “Mammon, jealousy isn’t a good look for you.”

“I just thought I would, because I don’t spend much time with him. He’s picking me up soon.” “Oh! Is MC going on a date?” “I very much doubt that, Asmo.”

You gave Asmo a side glare and stood up from the table. “I just want to talk to him, that’s all. I’ve gotta get ready, catch you later.”

-

“Alright, see you guys later! If I’m not back by this evening assume I’m dead. See you!” You stepped out of the building with Barbatos and he gave you that oh-so-polite smile of his.

“MC, you look nice. So what is you wished to discuss?” With one graceful flick of his hand, Barbatos had both of you transported to the Demon Lord’s castle.

It wasn’t the first place you’d wanted to go to, but if the time was spent with Barbatos on his own then it would be fine.

“Well, actually it’s about Diavolo- No, before you say I don’t want to talk to him about this. Believe me, I’ve tried.” You leant back into 

Barbatos pursed his lips and glanced to the side. “I believe I know what this is about. Excuse my manners, I haven’t offered you anything. Some tea?” 

“Oh, thanks.” He nodded courteously and stood up, leaving for a moment.

You glanced around, taking in the grand carvings in the gold ceilings, and how everything from the paintings to the threads of the cushion you were leaning on had some air of royalty to them.

“Here you are MC. I hope it is to your liking?” “Mm.” “Wonderful. Now, about your concerns. This is about My Lord’s... advances, isn’t it?”

You nodded, and sipped your cup of hot tea.

“No need to say anything, I completely understand. My Lord is a wonderful demon, he’s just new to this kind of thing. But I understand why you are uncomfortable, and I will talk to him about it, if you’d like?”

“You will?” “Of course, I’d be more than happy to oblige. MC, are you feeling well? You look a little pale.” He suddenly commented, and you noticed a strange feeling in your temple.

“Ah- now that you mention it, I feel kind of... tired... Wait- Barbatos what’s in this tea...?” You trailed off, your delicate cup clattering to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, MC. Out of all the futures I’ve seen, yours was one of the brightest until you came here... I truly am sorry.” Remorse welled in his teal eyes and you slipped forwards, sleep overtaking you.

Gloved hands caught you swiftly, but you didn’t know what happened after that. You could only imagine Barbatos carrying you to the grand room, removing your D.D.D from your possession and glacing wistfully back at you as he locked the door.

-

“Ahh, you’re finally awake! It’s so lovely to see your bright eyes again.” ‘That voice, it can’t be...’

Your worst fears had come true. Here you were, just woken up in the lap of the demon Prince himself. ‘Angels save me...’

“What... Diavolo..?” “Yours truly. How do you feel, darling? Terribly sorry about getting you here, Barbatos was rather reluctant about the whole plan but seeing the future is such a nifty trick, eh?”

You scrambled out of his loose grip and hunched up to the head board, golden like everything else in this fucking castle.

“You- he- He tricked me! Let me go, you can’t keep me here!” “I think you’ll find I can, being the future King and all. Come now, what’s with that expression?”

You glared at him, eyes fixated on sending a look of pure hatred. “You’re a monster. I told you I didn’t want you. You can’t just kidnap someone if they don’t requite your feelings!”

“Can’t I? You don’t seem to be correct, this time.” “You bastard!” You cried, and jumped off the bed, sprinting towards the door. 

Of course it was locked, but that wouldn’t stop you from banging on it and screaming. “Barbatos, Barbatos please help me!”

“I’m afraid that won’t help you, MC. Barbatos is my servant after all, and a servant cannot disobey his master. As for you...”

You heard him stride across the room, and you turned to face him- only to wish you hadn’t.

“Are you afraid, MC?”

Diavolo’s usually wide smile had been replaced by a sinister grin, and he had changed into his demon form- a truly terrifying sight to behold.

“Not going to answer me? That’s okay, I don’t need you to.” You pressed yourself against the door, ready for some kind of agony, but it never came.

Instead, he picked you up and sat back on the bed, nestling you on his lap once more.

“I must say, it’s better when you don’t fight back.” You couldn’t move. You were genuinely paralysed. 

All you could do was whatever he wanted, evidently. 

“What... did you do to me...?!” “What an accusation, MC. I simply made the situation more enjoyable, wouldn’t you say?”

“The brothers will find me... The angels will find me too... You won’t get away with this..!” You hissed as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck, content.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. After all, they’ll be too sad to find that you left them, without even saying goodbye.”

“W-what?! I would never.... You cruel bastard!” Your eyes welled with tears, and he carefully wiped them away with his thumb.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You have me, right darling?” “I don’t want you!” “We’ll have to work on that, but that’s okay... but that’s okay, if it’s for you!”

“Don’t... don’t touch me.” He sighed, pulling you closer to his chest and ran his hand through your hair.

“I suppose if you keep denying me, there will be consequences, but I’m sure you’ll be a good little human and keep quiet, right?”

--

haha this was long. and i may or may not be working on yandere! simeon and solomon right now so uhhhh shhh. i’m not a huge fan of Diavolo but the dynamic is fun. see you soon lovelies <3 

-Bepp

[lazywonderlvnd]

Imagine Harry learning to play the guitar after the war and Draco finds out when they start dating and is obv a slut for it. Anyway what I'm here to beg for is sexy-guitar-player-Harry smut please and thank

first of all nonners I’m so sorry this took me lit rally 59 years to answer!!!! when I saw it in my inbox last week I was abt to answer n be like yes. this. And then realized it needed to be written and got sidetracked w the first himbo harry installment but here it is now and let me just SAY this trope is my new FAVORITE thing in the world oh my goddddd when I tell u the way I’ve been yelling to glows and cielia abt it 👁👄👁

highly recommend listening to wonderwall when it comes up to Complete the Experience. hope u enjoy ❤️

“I’m sorry, he what?”

“Yeah, he’s really good,” said Weasley. He nodded towards the acoustic guitar hanging on the wall; Draco had taken notice of it the first time he’d seen Harry’s flat but never paid it much mind after that, taking it for decoration, or perhaps an unused gift. “He’ll play if you ask him. He doesn’t like showing off.”

“Which is silly,” Granger said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve told him, just because he’s good at it doesn’t make it showing off. I wish he’d play for people more often.”

“He has literally never mentioned this to me.” He felt utterly stunned and completely cheated. He tried to picture it and couldn’t. “How long’s he been playing?”

“Picked it up after the war. It was kind of funny, actually  --” Weasley started saying, but Harry came back into the room -- still pulling his shirt on -- and he broke off, giving Draco a significant look that told him to bring it up.

“Harry,” said Draco imperiously, to which he received two raised eyebrows as Harry fell into his favourite armchair and pushed a hand through his still-damp curls. Draco matched his expression and glanced at the guitar. Harry followed his gaze, looking genuinely confused.

“What, what is it?”

“When were you going to tell me you play?”

“What, guitar?”

“Yes, guitar.”

He shrugged and grabbed for one of the beers on the table, wandlessly magicking the cap off. “I dunno. When it came up, I guess.”

“The way your friends tell it you’re quite good.”

Harry gave Weasley and then Granger a sour look; both of them gave it right back to him, which was, admittedly, amusing.

“I can play all right,” he said vaguely, and took a swig of his drink. It did make some sort of sense, now Draco thought about it -- the tips of Harry’s fingers were far, far too calloused to have been just from casual Quidditch and Auror training. 

“You know, Harry, it actually comes off as more pretentious when you act like this,” said Granger. Weasley snorted. Harry glared at her. “Just play for him, won’t you? And us too -- it’s been ages.”

“Yeah, what’s that Muggle song you play sometimes that I like?” said Weasley.

“I dunno, I’ve played a lot of Muggle songs.”

“He means Wonderwall, Harry,” said Granger, grinning. Harry finally smiled too, and although their little Muggle joke was lost on Weasley and himself he was glad to see that it had apparently been the prodding Harry needed to give in. He set his beer back down and went to get the guitar; something about the way he threw the thin and fraying strap over his head, the way his hands went effortlessly to their places, was unexpectedly attractive. The left one curled easily around the neck of the instrument, heavily-roughened fingers finding their odd positions on the strings, something Draco had always thought looked very painful.

He plucked a few chords and then began fiddling with the knobs at the head of the guitar, tuning it in what was clearly the Muggle fashion, which against his will left Draco completely fascinated. Having no musical inclination himself, he could make nothing of the process except that Harry apparently heard the discordant notes in there well enough to be able to fix them, and finally when he brought his thumb down across all six strings it sounded as sweet and clear as if it had been done by magic.

“Course he likes Wonderwall,” Harry said to Granger even as he began playing, fingers shifting and moving and contorting to create the notes while he strummed softly, effortlessly, and the music crawled over Draco’s skin and inside of him. “I remember Dudley listening to it, like, what … summer before sixth year? On the radio constantly.”

“Sounds about right,” said Granger. 

 Draco had stopped paying attention to what they were saying, though. Either because the music itself had something haunting about its melody or because it was Harry playing it, or perhaps a combination of both, Draco felt a pit of emotion form in his chest to round off the edges of his growing arousal.

And then he started singing, and Draco swallowed very hard. Granger dropped a head onto Weasley’s shoulder and watched with a tender expression, Weasley similarly enamored. Harry had his eyes on his hands for the most part, closing them a few times throughout, looking as comfortable now as he did on a broomstick.

Only three months of official dating had not prepared Draco for the flood of emotions he now felt, yet the most pressing matter had become the semi trapped uncomfortably in his trousers. He wanted those talented fingers in his mouth, to feel the callouses on his tongue and taste Harry on them; he wanted to feel them on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and hip bones, to have them buried so deeply in his arse that he forgot where he ended and Harry began. 

Of course, he had to keep this to himself for the next hour, until he was able to get Granger and Weasley out of the flat. And once he did, he didn’t bother dragging Harry to his bedroom -- Draco pushed him up against the front door that had just closed behind his friends and hauled him into a kiss that he felt Harry grinning into.

“I thought you seemed tetchy,” he muttered, hands dropping to Draco’s hips. “Oasis really does it for you, huh?”

“What the hell is oasis?”

“The band who does the song.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s the band who does it for me.” He kissed Harry again, maybe a little too hungrily, and dug a fist into his side when he started laughing. “Shut up, why the hell didn’t you ever tell me you played?”

Harry pulled his head back, looking at Draco with an arched brow and an infuriating smirk. 

“What do you mean, ever? We’ve only been together three months, it didn’t come up.”

“God,” Draco muttered, and now he reached down and pressed his palm against Harry’s cock, pleased to feel how hard he was in spite of his ruthless teasing. “You’re so annoying.”

“Well if I’d known how randy it would make you I might’ve played for you a long time ago.”

Having had quite enough of Harry’s particularly sarcastic brand of wit, he ignored this last and reached for one of his hands, removing it from his own hip and bringing it to his lips. It was extremely satisfying to watch the smirk disappear from Harry’s face when he sucked one of his fingers into his mouth. 

“Bit fetish-y, isn’t this?” Harry said breathily, eyes wide as he watched, looking half amused and half awed. In retaliation, Draco took another finger into his mouth and slid his tongue between them, tasting soap and salt, feeling the callouses on the tips of his fingers and letting that sensation grip his insides like an iron fist. “Jesus Christ,” Harry groaned; his free hand went to Draco’s jaw, holding him steady, and with a truly outstanding audacity began fucking Draco’s mouth with his fingers.

They dipped bluntly past his uvula, scraping the back of his throat so he gagged around their intrusion. Saliva built with an excessive speed that had it drooling out of the corners of his lips and coating Harry’s knuckles. Draco closed his eyes and let it happen, opening his throat against the relentless assault and curling his hands in Harry’s shirt just to steady himself. 

They were gone too soon and Harry’s mouth replaced them, much gentler but still with a tangible sense of urgency about it.

When he broke away, he said against Draco’s lips, “Like my fingers, do you?”

Draco merely nodded, feeling their wetness against his cheek. 

“Then turn around,” said Harry, “and I’ll fuck you with them.”

Draco let out a soft, embarrassing whimper and let Harry spin them around and press him against the door, cheek-first. He undid his flies himself and Harry tugged them down his legs and off his feet, allowing Draco to spread them slightly. Harry’s fingers were there immediately, sliding slick between his cheeks and over his hole. The memory of Harry’s hands on the guitar was still so fresh, his fingers changing chords effortlessly, sacrificing them to blisters and callouses and roughened skin for the music they created, and Draco closed his eyes against a fresh wave of arousal and another pang of emotion.

“You really are incredible,” said Draco, biting back a moan as two of those dexterous fingers slipped inside of him. Harry fucked him with them slowly, carefully, seeking out his prostate and angling for it each time once he’d found it. Draco turned his face to press his forehead against the door, eyes still closed, nails scraping wood. “And I like that song.”

“It’s a good one,” Harry agreed. His hot breath caressed the back of Draco’s neck, fingers pumping, his other hand back at Draco’s waist. “I have a million more I’d love to show you.”

Draco didn’t bother trying to find his voice again: instead he pushed back against Harry’s driving fingers, everything that wasn’t the relentless stabbing against his prostate driven from his mind. His neglected cock slapped against the door with every thrust, the red and irritated head dripping pre-come against the wood. Only half conscious of the decision to do so, he wrapped his hand around it and pulled and squeezed and zeroed in on the bursts of pleasure radiating outwards from inside his body until it all spilled over and he came in great pulses, gasping for breath while Harry kept at it. 

The fingers slowed as he reached his peak and began coming down but they didn’t stop, nor was his prostate given much of a break. Harry reinforced his grip on Draco’s waist and kept pumping, a steadier rhythm that nevertheless rubbed and prodded at that little bundle, making his nerves tingle and fizzle and scream out their overstimulation.

“Harry,” he said weakly, knees buckling. “Please …”

It could have been comical the way Harry followed his movement as he slid down the door to the ground, except it wasn’t. It was infuriating, actually, and felt at once like more than he could possibly handle and exactly what he needed. His forehead and his hands went back to the wood, bracing himself as Harry, kneeling behind him, continued fucking his beautiful, merciless fingers and stimulating Draco’s overworked prostate. 

He pushed a third one in alongside the other two and Draco was shocked to feel a hot tear leak out of the corner of his eye. Harry crooked them expertly, with all the confidence and surety of someone who had done this a million times, could do it in their sleep, as if it was not the guitar strings but Draco’s body he was strumming now, an instrument fine-tuned to his own particular cadence and rhythm, which he and no one else could play quite right.

Lips parted, hot breath echoing off the door and back into his face, Draco allowed himself to be taken apart with the same ferocious intensity he’d seen Harry use on the guitar. Each stroke brought him back to full hardness, each stab against his prostate made his nerves sing a tormented chorus, drowning out the pain of the wooden floor against his bare knees. 

“Shit,” Draco choked out, “I’m gonna come again …”

“Well that’s the idea,” said Harry. His voice was full of that same witty and well-meaning sarcasm Draco liked so much, even when it made him feel like punching him. Snatches of the song came back to him, Harry’s voice when he sang it, the expert shifting of his fingers where they pressed and plucked at the strings like he was making love to them. It was all so very much. 

He came a second time without even bothering to touch his cock, because he just didn’t fucking need it. His body thrummed and vibrated like a snapped rubber band while Harry coaxed him along his high and back down again. When he finally pulled his fingers out he leant forward over Draco’s back and kissed the side of his neck, then the corner of his jaw. 

“You know you make much lovelier sounds than the guitar, just so we’re clear,” he said, and Draco, with what strength he had left, shoved Harry and watched him fall sideways laughing. 

[cazzyvintage]

I absolutely A D O R E D your Laszlo’s long lost daughter HCs! Such an interesting concept & I loved reading about their relationship developing! I would love a sequel, maybe other people’s reactions? Like Sara, John, Isaacsons, Roosevelt? Would they be told or would they figure it out? & when? Or just generally Society™️? I’m curious if you think they’d go public/be open about the info or keep it secret or just private, etc.? I wanna hear how you imagine the aftermath (a part of me can’t help but remember the opera scene in 1:02 where that guy has all his ‘nieces’ & people assuming that’s what’s going on w Las & this ‘mysterious young woman’ & their mortified/tired af reactions to this nonsense)

- 🦇

Bat anon!!! How are you? I love getting your requests, they are always so detailed 💞

Link to the first part here

- When you and Laszlo had first learnt about your connection, you both agreed it would be best to keep it a secret between the both of you. You two wanted to grow closer, to learn more about each other without the watchful or curious eyes of your friends and wider society. Both you and Laszlo had gained quite the reputation within the newspaper for your antics, Laszlo for his profession and beliefs, the way he would but himself into places people didn't want him to be. And for you how you were working with Sara at a woman's detective industry, that in on its self caused rumours to fly about you. You and Laszlo knew if they caught wind of it, the newspapers would have a felid day.

- However, with the increasing amount of time you two spent together your friends did begin to grow suspicious. John most of all. He considered himself Laszlo's best friend, he considered himself the only person who would be able to stand Laszlo for so long. So to suddenly see Laszlo spending more time with you, cancelling appointments in John in favour of you, it did upset him to some degree. But John could also understand. Though there was a certain age gap. so the same could be said with him and Sara and after all the heart wants what the heart wants. John started to tease Laszlo about it, joking that when Laszlo's mind was adrift with thoughts, that he was thinking about you, When Laszlo said he was heading out for the evening John would joke he was going to see you. Laszlo was in fact but he hadn't quite grasped what John had been hinting at, and so instead gave John a confused glare before leaving.

- It was only when you went round to Laszlo's house when John was realising did everything boil down. John made another remark and instantly it clicked in your mind what John thought. Turning to glare at him with your arm resting upon Laszlo, you inform him that Laszlo was your father.

- John's face paled and his eyes widened as he glanced between the two of you as you both stared at him. He would move wordlessly and the glass of wine within his hand almost slipped out. Finally, his voice cracked as he looked at Laszlo and said "you're daughter?" to which Laszlo replied sarcastically. It took a while for John to adjust to the thought of Laszlo being a father, often he would stare at the two of you, analysing your faces to find all the similarities but as he watched you more even he could start to realise just how similar the two of you were. He had always joked about the horrors of having a mini Laszlo within the world but seeing everything you did, he felt proud for Laszlo for having an amazing daughter, Now now he considered yourself like your uncle and would occasionally steal you away from Laszlo to treat you to a day out, one which Laszlo would grumble at when he found out.

- Sara was less dense than John. She was able to figure it out on her own without you or Laszlo needing to tell her. You two were just too similar for her not to notice. It left her in the unfortunate position however of trying to inform you that she had figured it out. One day she had invited you out to the park in an attempt to inform you about it. Gradually she moved your polite conversation onto the topic of fathers, trying to fight back some of the tears as she was reminded of her own father and how that had ended. You gently reminded her that you didn't know your father and she followed that on by saying how close you and Laszlo seemed to be, that one could mistake you two as if being daughter and father. That is when you knew she had figured it out. The conversation ended with you and Sara hugging each other, tears streaming in happiness.

- Laszlo felt comfortable with his two closest friends knowing, but he knew eventually John wouldn't be able to keep the secret within himself, and that proved true when Laszlo opened the door to find Theordore awkwardly standing on the other side. Laszlo sighed letting him in. As it turns out John and Theodore had gone horse riding outside in the park and their conversation had turned to their nights out, especially of all the times Laslzo ended up drunk and John knowing what had happened on one of those said nights, couldn't hold it within himself and told Theodore. Theodore was quite shocked by the news, for he had his own daughters but they were much younger than you, still he felt now that Laszlo himself had a daughter it was only just right he came over to congratulate Laszlo and discuss father antics, even though there was a significant age range. Laszlo found the topics awkward but amusing and appreciated Theodores attempts at making Laszlo feel more accustomed to fatherhood.

- You had met the twins before with yours and Sara's own cases, you'd worked with them and found them both quite charming. Certainly, you enjoyed the company of Marcus. He always tried to find ways to make you laugh, showing you in detail his work and explaining it carefully to you. You found he had the loveliest of smiles. You were delighted when you discovered they were well acquainted with your father as well but you had the urge to tell them but you didn't know exactly how to go about it. So you broke the news casually to them. Marcus briefly mentioned something about Laszlo and you just replied, "ah yes, my father" both of the men froze in shock, Marcus dropping what was in his hand. After you the situation they were fascinated by it and we're eager to talk to Laszlo about it next who was still quite bashful about the situation and their numerous questions, but you found Marcus talking to Laszlo a lot more afterwards as if trying to gain his good opinion.

- Of course with your and Laszlo's fondness for the opera you two often visited it together and often people used operas not for the entertainment but for the number of rumours they could spread. Now that you and Laszlo had made quite a few frequent appearances at the opera, the rumours were starting to grow. Laszlo the man who seemed so alienated and different from the rest of the society, turning up to lots of operas accompanied by a young woman, one also known for her striking disposition. Everyone latched onto it and the rumours spread quickly. You and Laszlo were rather detected from people like that and therefore were not aware of what people were saying about the two of you. It was John who found out when someone was about to publish the rumours in the newspaper. He rushed to the institute where he found Laszlo and explained the situation. Laszlo became very angry at the audacity people had to spread such rumours about you. It also made him extremely uncomfortable knowing what people were thinking about him and his own daughter. With urgency, he and John went to the newspaper office and the next morning the story of Laszlo and his daughter emerged.

- Laszlo was nervous thinking you might not have wanted everyone to know yet and would leave town not wanting to be around him, but instead, you were happy to finally be able to acknowledge your own father without having to try and hide any of it from society, that you could finally say to people that Dr Laszlo Kreizler was indeed your father and you were exceedingly proud.

TAGS: @wonderwoman292 @justreadingficsdontmindme @thehuiabird @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing@shrekboobies @arianalilyblack @zemosimp420 @kadeuuijib @lieutenantn @neoarchipelago @cable-kenobi @edencherries @faustlyaccused @julyvegan @prestigious-tea @hannahbal-the-fannibal @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @competitivepomegranate @welcometothemxdhouse @flutterskies @rumblelibrary @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sky-writes-stuff @rhinestxn-e @davianos-blog @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @mywinterivy @the-webkinz-killer @xxlumos @cathana2264 @ajokeformur-ray @nev3rfound @unbeatablecurlgirl @barnesxnobles

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 9 -- Answers

Word Count: 17199

READ ON AO3

When Danny first visitedーor, more accurately, when he first crashed intoーthe Far Frozen, he shared the same first impression as Tucker; it was ball-freezing cold. 

Frostbite and his people’s homeland was a frozen paradise where blinding white snow went as far as reached the eye. What at first glance appeared to be a rather rudimentary village made out of small houses carved into mounds of ice and frost was infinitely more complex than that. The Realm of the Far Frozen was one of the most technologically advanced territories in all the Infinite Realms; even Technus coveted access to their facilities. A stark contrast to its inhabitants' simple clothing, for instance.

The ice huts were in truth the entrance to a far more elaborate citadel built underground and connected by countless tunnels and caverns, for it provided better shelter. Some shacks did indeed lead to the citizens’ homes, not unlike a rabbit’s den, but the vast majority of them worked as the gates to the tunnels leading to the metropolis beneath the snow. 

In fact, the only cavern that truly was a mere cave, despite its importance among Frostbite’s people, was the cave where Danny’s battle against Pariah Dark was recorded. In reality, everything about Far Frozen was proof that one should never judge a book by its cover. The ice-wielding ghosts had the fearsome looks of canine yetis; their claws alone the size of Danny’s head, their snouts filled to the brim with razor-sharp fangs; even now, standing at 5’9 feet tall, Frostbite’s colossal height and build dwarfed the halfa’s own developed physique, and the number of ghosts who shared the yeti-like species’ proficiency at cryokinesis could be counted with one handーaside from Danny himself, the only other ghost that came to mind was Klemper, and even he relied mostly on brute strength and freezing breath. 

And yet, despite everything that should’ve turned Frostbite and his people into some of his most formidable foes, they in turn were some of the biggest supporters of his rule. If you looked for the definition of ‘gentle giant’ in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of them. Frostbite’s people were noble, kind, and loyal. So long their way of living wasn’t threatened, should a crisis arise, they were always the first ones volunteering themselves to help Danny in any way they could. 

Not to mention Frostbite himself had more than once filled the role of the young Ghost King’s mentor. A role he had no choice but to exploit now. 

Landing gracefully on top of the snow, Danny waited patiently until the leader of the Far Frozeners came flying by on his hoverboard in the midst of his patrolling his land. Soon enough, taking notice of a shadow being cast on him, he looked up to see the ghost’s familiar face grinning down at him, by his side one of his subjects looked on with interest. 

“Great One!” he exclaimed before hopping off the vehicle and coming to stand beside his king, followed by a respectful bow. “To what do we owe the honour of this visit?”

Danny smiled appreciatively at him. “Hello, Frostbite. I know this is probably too sudden, but I could really use your help right now.”

“Nonsense.” The bigger ghost assured him with the raise of a dismissive paw. “My people will be forever indebted to you for freeing the Ghost Zone once and for all from the tyrannical influence of Pariah Dark.” He placed his large paw on his ruler’s shoulder, staring him down with a warmth that shouldn’t belong with a race of tundra dwellers. “Now, do tell, what can we possibly help with?”

Feeling uncomfortable, the halfa looked down on his feet and scratched the back of his head. He really didn’t want to go to Frostbite for help, knowing how cautious he was around the mere mention of them. Unfortunately, he didn’t know who else to go to. “I need your help with…the witches.”

He mumbled that part so low for a moment he worried his old friend might not have heard him, but the sudden look of urgency in his red eyes said otherwise. “Come, we must make haste.” With a nod of his head, Frostbite signalled to the hoverboard’s pilot to lower the vehicle, getting aboard right after Danny. “We will continue where we left off tomorrow at dawn, for now let us head back home.” He instructed the pilot as he ushered Danny to take a seat. 

“As you wish, sir.” The other Far Frozen replied as he changed course. 

“Thank you.” Danny said truthfully. “I’m sorry for bringing them up, but I think you might be the only one able to help me.”

Frostbite shook his head. “Fear not, Great One. My people and I understand you are doing everything in your power to protect us from their harmful ways. Even if we do not wish to come in contact of any kind with them, we will not hesitate to aid you in your quest.”

Even if on the outside Danny was smiling, his words made his insides churn. He felt like he was lying to his mentor. After his last encounter with Lady Arcana a part of him, probably the same part of him who originally told him this was a good idea, resented the way ghosts referred to witches. 

Jazz would probably say that was the result of personal growth. Since the Witch Queen went out of her way to make sure he was safe despite their mutual animosity, his mind had been opened to new horizons, meaning he now understood he’d been unfair to them based on prejudice and naysay, rather than first hand experience. 

At least, that’s what Psychologist Jazz would say. Overprotective, Older Sister Jazz would say something more along the lines of, “Snap out of it, little brother! You’re not fourteen and hormonal anymore; don’t let a pretty face fool you!”

Even so, here he was. Asking Frostbite for help even though it felt like he was just desperately looking for something, anything, that would debunk the reasons behind his people’s grudge against witches, if only to assure himself that his current, improved, opinion of their leader wasn’t unfounded. 

Come on, man, that’s not the only reason you’re doing this and you know it. He tried to reason. How much do you know about witches other than what you’ve been told? Nothing, that’s how much he knew about them. Exactly. You’re the one taking risks by working with Lady Arcana. What if your previous hunch was wrong and they really can’t help? Wouldn’t that mean you’ve been wasting your time? Okay, that’d be bad. Really bad. He only asked for their help because he was sure they were the only ones who could do anything about the portals, but if not even them had the solution to the portals opening, what was he going to do?! Right? And how are you going to figure that out if you don’t know what they’re truly capable of? Really, this is for the best. 

Danny didn’t want to sound conceited, but his inner monologue brought up incredibly good points to the conversation. He was doing this for the sake of Earth and the Ghost Zone alike. His personal opinion on the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park was irrelevant. 

A sudden jerk that almost sent him flying brought him out of his reverie. Looking around he noticed they’d finally arrived back at the village, and Frostbite was smirking down at him in amusement. “I have yet to see you use the powers that come with your position to their full potential,” he started between chuckles, “but I believe not even the Great One is exempt from having to use the seatbelt when travelling.”

Registering the way the leader of the Far Frozen moved his ice-encased arm to his lap, Danny realised he was the only person aboard who didn’t have his seatbelt on. When Frostbite unbuttoned his seatbelt with a pointed look, the green-eyed ghost could only flush in embarrassment. “Uh…oops?”

A low chuckle rumbled through the yeti-like ghost’s chest. “Come, Great One.” Resting his large paw on Danny’s back, Frostbite ushered him out of the hoverboard and began guiding him through his home’s numerous underground passages. They walked in silence, the sound of ice and snow being stepped on was the only thing that could be heard. Even though several detours were carved into the walls, his mentor kept directing him to go straight until he instructed they took a turn. 

Danny was sure his jaw was inches away from touching the ground as his eyes surveyed the colossal ice gates in front of him. Judging by their icy blue hue, they were thick enough to withstand practically anything. He doubted even one of his most charged up ecto-rays would be enough to crash into them. Many intricate designs ran alongside them, and they definitely had to protect something of great value to explain the two guards at each side. 

As if reading his mind, Frostbite supplied an answer for his unspoken queries, “The library, oh, Great One.” With a snap of his fingers, the two guards bowed down before they simultaneously turned the doorknobs and opened the doors for them, granting them access. 

“Wait, the library?” Danny frowned in confusion, which only doubled at Frostbite’s hearty laugh.

“Yes, Great One.” He smiled down at him as he led him inside. “If what you’re looking for is answers, I cannot think of a better place to find them than a library.”

Looking now at his mentor’s furry back, for he was surveying the different shelves most likely in search of a book that might have the information he was looking for, the young monarch blurted out, “How do you know I’m here for answers?”

Frostbite grabbed a book from the shelf he was currently facing, only to think better of it and return it in exchange for another one. “Usually, when you come all the way over here it is because you have questions you need answers to.”

Danny winced at the pang of guilt that pierced through his core. Was he always so self-interested he only ever came when he needed something?

“Worry not, Great One.” The yeti-like spirit said, not looking up from the book in his large paws. “My people will always be at your service. It is an honour to be able to help you, for we know you will always aid us in return.” He closed the book with a low thud, flashing him a friendly smile. 

Danny could only gape at the ghost before him, his mouth opening and closing in a fashion akin to a fish’s. Seriously, did the Far Frozeners have telepathy too?!

“No, we do not possess the ability to read minds.” Looking down at the certainly flabbergasted expression on the half-ghost’s face, Frostbite roared with laughter, the sound echoing throughout the walls. “I jest, Great One. I just know you too well. Also, your expressions speak volumes.” He commented offhandedly before returning his focus to another section of the library. 

And to think he’d managed to fool his parents all these years…Sliding a hand through his mess of shock-white locks, the Ghost King came to stand beside his old friend, scanning over the different titles as well. After a  while, he realised something. “Um, Frostbite?” He called out to his mentor. 

“Yes, Great One?”

“Are we perhaps looking for information to answer my questions about the witches?”

Never tearing his eyes away from the sacred manuscripts in full display in his people’s library, Frostbite nodded. “Precisely, your Majesty.”

“Just one question, though?”

“What is it?”

“How are we going to find a book that’ll help me, if I still haven’t told you what I need help with?” Danny pointed out, tilting his head to his side as he awaited an answer. 

The larger ghost’s red eyes widened in realisation. Indeed, that would prove difficult. “My apologies, Great One. In my haste to be of help I got ahead of myself.” Turning to his king, he bowed his head solemnly, unknowingly making Danny uncomfortable. Back in the day the halfa would’ve tried deterring him in his use of honorifics when talking to him, but it was a lost cause and getting him to stop bowing would be as well. In the end he simply chose to go with the flow. Raising his body, Frostbite used his ice-encased arm to gesture to a corner of the room, where a few chairs were arranged around a table. “Please, allow me to rectify my mistake by listening to your queries and answering them to the best of my ability.”

As soon as he got comfortable in his chair, which wasn’t difficult as the hair serving as upholstery was very fluffy and warm, Danny tried to voice his thoughts. “Well...um...you see…” Key word being ‘tried,’ in the end he blurted out, “How does their magic work?”

As Frostbite met his question with stunned silence, his head tilted to the side and a bushy eyebrow raised in confusion, the green-eyed half-ghost couldn’t blame him. How was it he always ended up asking the exact same thing to every person relatively knowledgeable about witches he talked to?

Before his old friend could ask for some much needed clarification, Danny hurried to deliver it himself. “I’m sorry, that was too random.” He pushed his bangs out of his face, trying to organise his thoughts. Better be straightforward with this one. “Why is it that their magic can touch us while we’re intangible?”

The question had been eating him alive for the last few days. Now matter how long he wracked his brain for answers, he came up empty-handed. Admittedly, most of the times he was hit by an opponent’s attack it was usually because, in the heat of the moment, he all but forgot he could turn intangible at will and effortlessly pass through whatever projectile was thrown his way. It was an embarrassing mistake that haunted himーhow ironic, huh?ーsince he first started gaining control over his powers. 

And yet, when he did remember to turn intangible at the sight of upcoming ecto-rays or laser beams, he could come out unscathed of anythingーother ghost’s using their powers against him, the Guys in White and their tax-money equipment, even his parents’ own inventions. 

Well, almost everything…

Valerie’s own arsenal of ecto-weapons was the only thing that could touch (or, more accurately, hurt) him when he was intangible. He could only guess what Vlad and subsequently Technus had used to create her suit and weaponry. Until now. Now he’d accidentally found out witches could nonchalantly wrap their magical, tendril-like thingy around his ankleーlast time in a successful attempt to help him, which was very much appreciatedーand it actually came as a surprise to them they were even able to do it! 

If only he could figure out why that was…

“Great One,” Frostbite sighed from his own chair, snapping him out of his reverie, “I fear I might not be of help to you. I know nothing of what you speak.” 

At that, the halfa jumped to his feet, almost pleadingly. “What do you mean, Frostbite? How come you don’t know, you know practically everything!”

A mirthless chuckle escaped the Far Frozener’s throat. “You flatter me, my King. But I really am as lost as you are on the matter. I could tell you many other things, but not that.”

“Then, what can you tell me?”

Rising to his feet, the yeti-like creature beckoned his hero and leader to follow him to another part of the library. Once they were in front of a particular shelf, Frostbite slid his finger over the different volumes until he found the one he was looking for. With a triumphant sound, he picked it up and started leafing through it as he handed the book to Danny. 

When the halfa took the heavy book in his hands he almost dropped it when he saw the intricate drawing between its pages. Pictured inside the book were very realistic, if slightly worn out by time, drawings of the Amulets of Aragon and portrayals of people Danny could only assume were Dorothea and her brother while they were alive. 

Frostbite’s booming voice forced him to look up to his direction. “Whatever knowledge on the sorceress’ nature beyond their affinity to magic and ability to free us from the chains that bind us to our world without the use of portals is long gone.” He delicately traced an invisible circle around the image of the amulet with one of his sharp claws as he explained, “After our people's separation, only remnants of their activity were left. 

“It is thanks to their prolonged presence in our lives, and the intertwining of energies resulting from our past interactions, that those with magic-based abilities can still survive today. Without the witches’ previous impact on our society, Princess Dorothea and her brother would have long lost the power to wield their amulets. And, as you know, it is thanks to them that magical items even exist in our world.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me…” He muttered under his breath, resentment coming back at full force. 

“On the contrary, my King. I am enlightening you.” Frostbite corrected, earning himself a confused look from Danny that encouraged him to go on. Instead of answering with words, however, Frostbite merely turned his head with a faraway look in his eyes, prompting the halfa to do the same. The moment his eyes laid on a particular object on the other side of the room, Danny could feel himself go jawslacked. 

With wide eyes, he turned his head so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. “The Infi-map is here because of the witches?” He asked with a strangled voice. 

Frostbite simply nodded. “It was a gift from them, to be precise. Legend has it, eons ago the Infinite Realms were desperately looking for ways to anticipate when the next ghost portal would open when an ancient witch queen from the Old World offered the enchanted Infi-map as the solution.

“She was especially close to my people, thus how we came to guard it. It is also why the Far Frozen is so wary of them now; how a race of beings we once shared such a close bond with could doom our very existence like they did was too much for even our benevolent nature to forgive.” He lowered his head in mourning. Maybe they only had stories of how things used to be, but it was clear the women’s betrayal was a deeply pierced wound that would forever be opening and closing at the very core of the Far Frozeners’ hearts. 

Seeing his friend’s dejected expression, Danny regretted even bringing them up almost instantly. “So there’s no way of possibly knowing how they can touch us while intangible?”

“As I said, only remnants of their presence remain.” Right after he said that, however, his downhearted expression turned thoughtful, his paw stroking his snout in thought. “Although, perchance, there is one ghost that might be able to shed some light on the matter...”

...........

Clockwork. 

He had to go and say Clockwork. 

Of fucking course. Why not? Couldn’t he have said Pandora? Despite her fierce and fearsome demeanour, underneath all that anger and aggression laid a very helpful gal! And besides, she was a spirit that had been roaming the Ghost Zone since the times of Ancient Greece! What could be more ancient than Ancient Greece? 

Okay, fine...maybe the very ghost who’d borne witness to the rise and fall of the Greek civilisation alongside countless others before and after. But his point still stands. 

At least this time he wouldn’t be visiting the all-knowing Ghost of Time by himself; Frostbite had offered to go with him seeing as it was per his suggestion he’d be visiting in the first place. Proof of it was the yeti-like ghost flying right beside him towards the Ghost of Time’s tower. And Clockwork always treated Frostbite with respect. 

Danny would admit he was being a bit harsh. In all fairness going to Clockwork was the most logical thing to doーif there was someone who’d have all the answers he needed, it was the very ghost who knew absolutely everything. The problem would be getting the answers out of him. 

Deep down, the halfa knew he should’ve gone to him from the beginning, it was just dealing with him could really take its toll on Danny, no matter how much he respected and appreciated his guidance. Was Clockwork a good mentor to Danny? Absolutely, he was sure he’d never made it as far as he had without his and Frostbite’s help. In the end, was the greater good Clockwork’s priority? Was it ever! The shape-shifting ghost would never hesitate to go against orders from the Observants (all too gleefully, might he add) if he believed it’d led them to the better timeline. Did his cryptic nature and that frustratingly annoying, knowing smirk he always wore when he needed his help with something sometimes encourage Danny to jump off a cliff in his human form? 

Maybe. 

He just hoped Frostbite’s presence would help matters, if only a bit. 

And speaking of Frostbite…“We approach the Master of Time’s lair, Great one.” Soon enough, the immense clock tower standing proud in the middle of the Infinite Realms could be sighted not far away from them. 

Danny sighed dejectedly. “Let’s get this over with…” he grumbled as he changed course in the direction the ghostly lair resided. 

Once they arrived at Clockwork’s tower, Danny reached a hand out to push the door open and let themselves in. It wasn’t like they were going to catch its owner off-guard, after all. As they ventured inside, their eyes scanning for the ever-changing form of the master of time, the constant tick-tock coming from the numerous clocks scattered around the place reached their ears. Like the ticking crocodile Captain Hook dreaded so much, the tower was a constant reminder of the passage of time. Even if the Ghost of Time had long ago explained to him the essence of his power was never as linear as most beings made it out to be, all Danny could think of whenever that incessant sound registered in his mind was one thing:

Time was running out and the end was nigh.

Shaking those thoughts away, for now wasn’t the moment to get lost in them, Danny cupped a hand around his mouth. “Clockwork?” He called. “Anybody home?”

In the blink of an eye, the child-like form of the ghost in question materialised in front of them with an amused grin on his childish face. When he opened his mouth to speak, instead of an appropriately high-pitched voice came a deep, baritone one, “I’ve been expecting you.” The fact it came from a kid’s mouth made it all the more jarring, but Danny was used to it by now. 

Whereas Frostbite respectfully bowed down in greeting, Danny just stared blankly at the ghost before him, his arms folding over his chest. “‘I’ve been expecting you?’ Really? What are you, a fortune teller?”

Changing to his adult form, a more fitting low chuckle escaped his throat. “We both know I’m one of the very few creatures in existence within his right to call himself that.” Then he added, almost like an afterthought. “Also, I felt like it.”

“Figures,” he muttered. Despite himself, the halfa couldn’t stop the lopsided smile from forming on his face. 

Clockwork then turned to the leader of the Far Frozen. “It’s good to see you again, Frostbite. What business brings you here?”

Standing up from his bowed position, Frostbite returned the greeting. “Greetings, Lord Clockwork. It is good to see you as well. Do forgive my impertinence, but I believe you must already know why I am here.”

The master of time nodded, now taking the form of an old man, the grip on his scepter just a little bit tighter for support. “Indeed, you’re here to support our young king. How noble of you.”

“I am merely doing what it is expected of me.” 

“That you do.” Clockwork agreed, nodding wisely. As the larger ghost had accurately pointed out, when one addressed the Ghost of Time, everything they did became expected. “That you do, my friend.”

“Um, could we please speed things up?” Danny suggested, growing frustrated with the pointless introductions. “As Frostbite said, you already know why we’re here, so why don’t you tell us if you can help us or not?”

“I said I know why Frostbite’s here, seeing as that is a staple in almost every timeline. That doesn’t mean I necessarily know the actual reason why you’re here since it’s more subject to change.” The Ghost of Time countered, but that devilishly knowing smirk of his was back on his face, all but screaming he did know exactly why they were here. “So, what are you here for, boy?”

Resisting the very strong urge to yank at his hair in despair, Danny managed to at least reply calmly. Sarcastically, but calmly. “As if you don’t know the answer already.”

Clockwork’s smirk widened. “Then humour me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing through it, the Ghost King thought the best way to formulate his question. Just because the master of time was, well, the master of time that didn’t mean he shouldn’t try to at least make sense. “I need answers.” He finally admitted. “There’s a lot going on with Lady Arcana that I can’t understand. I originally asked for Frostbite’s help but, unfortunately, he didn’t have what I’m looking for. And honestly?” He sent the shapeshifting ghost a meaningful glance, hoping it’d be enough to express how serious he was. “I don’t think she has the answers, either.”

Clockwork arched an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. 

“She can touch me when I go intangible!” Danny threw his arms up. Really, knowing how she could do that was all he needed. If he found out more about her people, wonderful! But as long as he got to know why one of his core powers seemingly meant nothing to her, he was golden. “Well, not her, her magic can.” He amended. “Just the other day, I was intangible and she wrapped one of her wispy tendrils around my ankle, yanking me down. How is that possible?”

For a moment, the Ghost of Time remained silent. With his head resting on his staff, his body kept changing its physical appearance as his deep, red eyes stayed fixated upon the young king. And Danny couldn’t honestly be sure if Clockwork was really thinking his next words carefully or just toying with him. He was an adult again by the time he finally spoke. “Danny, have you ever considered why ghosts can go intangible at all?” 

The unexpected question took him aback. “I...I always assumed it was a natural ghost ability.” He admitted as he scratched the back of his head in thought. 

Changing to his elderly form, the hooded ghost nodded. “And it is, but not without reason.” Next he floated over one of the many portals he used to oversee the passage of time. With a snap of his fingers, the portal began broadcasting many different instances where Danny or some other ghost had turned intangible. “You see, when we ghosts become intangible, what we do is tap into the Ghost Zone while we’re away from it. That is to say our bodies travel through dimensions.” With a movement of his staff, the image changed to show the times he, Tucker, and, surprisingly, Lady Arcana had phased through the walls. “That’s also why humans can phase through things in our world; even if their bodies are here, their essence never left Earth…”

As his mind connected the dots, the halfa’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “...making them lose their physical mass when in touch with things from our world!” He finished, amazed, and from beside the portal Clockwork nodded sagely. “But what about witches?”

The portal abruptly stopped its broadcast. It was almost as if Clockwork didn’t want to show him anything related to Lady Arcana’s people. With that in mind, Danny feared for a second the master of time would choose that moment to close himself off and say nothing more, but luckily, he proved him wrong. “In terms of physical form, witches are still human, but their magic is something completely different.

“As the only human beings capable of tapping into their own essence, their animas are multidimensional, which is why the Witch Queen’s magic affected youーits’ capable of surpassing the laws of physics because it’s not bound to any particular dimension…”

“...just its holder!” Danny gasped out as understanding dawned on him, things were finally starting to make sense. “So you’re saying witches are akin to electricity generators? They depend on no one but themselves to do magic?”

“Pretty much.”

“Wow.” He breathed out, a hand outstretched and blindly looking for support until it met the wall. Noticing his king’s dazed estate, Frostbite hurried to his side to steady him as Danny slowly sat down on the floor. “This...this is a lot.”

“And it’s only the beginning.” The Ghost of Time let out cryptically. Danny would have to remember to think about the meaning of that later on, for now he’d already absorbed too much information in too little time. When his brain finally processed enough information for him to properly function, the green-eyed ghost stood to his feet on his own, thanking Frostbite for his help. “Thank you, Clockwork. You were a huge help today. I know how hard it is for you to reveal anything due to the nature of your job.”

“Don’t get used to it, boy.” The hooded ghost warned, the knowing smirk back on his face. “I’m only doing what I consider best for this timeline. Don’t think spelling things out for you will be the answer to all your problems from now on.” 

Despite his words, the smile on Danny’s face didn’t fall. It’d have been foolish to expect anything else from Clockwork, after all. “Well, thanks anyways. See you, Clockwork.” He waved him goodbye as he took off in the opposite direction, this time heading for the Fenton Ghost Portal; today was far from over. 

Having been left alone with the Ghost of Time, Frostbite approached him. “Lord Clockwork, are we certain we are on the right path for salvation?”

“Trust me, old friend,” a child Clockwork said as he ventured further inside his lair, a different portal opening before his deceivingly innocent, round face, the events being displayed in it pleasing him greatly, “everything is as it should be.”

...........

The FentonWorks sign loomed over her like a bad omen. Looking up to the enormous metallic construction welded to the more average-looking, brick building where Danny and his family lived, Sam couldn’t help but subconsciously grip the straps of her spider backpack tighter. Her stomach churning in nervousness, she lifted one hand up to knock on the door…

And, unable to bring herself to do so, let it hang in mid-air for a good ten minutes. 

Dear God, if anyone saw her lurking around the Fentons’ door they’d think she was some weird stalker who was crazier than they claimed the family to be, or a potential client who needed help hunting a ghost. So basically they’d think she was crazier than they claimed the family to be either way. 

One would think the only family of ghost hunters in town would be held in much higher regard after seven years of consistent ghost attacks, but rumour has it their equipment tended to malfunction or make things more difficult for everyone. Sam remembered one particularly funny, but understandably embarrassing, story Danny had told her about his parents’ accidentally humiliating his English teacher on more than one occasion. And since Mr. Lancer couldn’t punish two adults, he took his frustrations out on their innocent son who had repeatedly stated he wanted nothing to do with the family business.

Add to that the presence of an all-around more powerful and more competent town hero with actual ghost powers, and it was safe to say their credibility had taken a few major blows over the years. 

At first she’d worried about their financial situation. Who wouldn’t? They were professional ghost hunters but nobody took them seriously and any possible job they might have had was immediately handled by a far more efficient superhero who, to top it all, worked for free. With that in mind you’d expect them to have been evicted years ago! But Danny had been quick to reassure her and explain things to her. Yes, his parents’ passion was ectology and ghost-hunting, but they were primarily inventors and, even if their ecto-weapons could sometimes use some work, their more mundane inventions were typically sold like pancakes. So they were fine. 

She sighed at the memory. Oh, Danny…

Hard as she tried, she still hadn’t managed to shake the flutter in her chest off whenever she thought of him or something happened between them. No. Scratch that. She didn’t get that feeling when ‘something’ happened between them, because nothing ever happened between them! All those weird, little instances where her heart would malfunction after twenty-one years in peak condition were perfectly normal occurrences that shouldn’t send her heart running. 

They would simultaneously reach for the same thing, causing their hands to brush against each other. Their eyes would meet and she’d spend seconds that could have perfectly stretched into hours over-analysing every little thing she thought was going on behind them because she suddenly wanted to know everything about Danny. When that happened it’d usually be followed by the both of them hurriedly looking away and Sam feeling bashful for some reason, heat rising to her cheeks. 

And none of those reactions made sense because that was not the way one would react to their friend!

Those were all completely normal occurrences between friends. It was normal to want the same thing at the same time. It was only natural to look your friend in the eyes. And it made sense that you’d want to look away if you think you’ve been staring a little too long because anyone would feel uncomfortable by that. 

What didn’t make sense was the gnawing feeling at the back of her head telling her those little, insignificant moments meant so much more than that!

And now that she was beginning to think she’d misjudged Phantom? Now that she looked at him in a different light and noticed some of his...let’s say...more appealing features, both in terms of physique and personality? Now that her heart was beginning to malfunction at the thought of him too?

Now Sam was seriously contemplating putting an end to her misery and burning herself at the stake. 

Either that or go see a doctor in case she had some sort of untreatable heart disease. 

Regardless of the very strange position she now found herself in, Sam’s resolve in finding more about ghosts was genuine. Her and Phantom’s reactions to her magic being able to reach him even when intangible was proof enough that far too much knowledge on their people’s old friendship had been regrettably forgotten. 

The black hole incident demonstrated there probably was more to their partnership and combined abilities than what had been passed down to the younger generations. If Sam could find solid evidence on an unexplained synchrony between magic and ghostly attributes, then maybe her current alliance with the Ghost King wouldn’t be futile after all.

Maybe it even held the key to solving the portal crisis they faced off against…

The witch was abruptly broken out of her trail of thought when the door she’d been standing in front of for fifteen minutes suddenly opened, Danny’s head curiously poking around and eyes darting from one side to the other, clearly looking for something…

...or someone. 

As soon as their eyes met, the two of them let out startled sounds and subconsciously took a step back in surprise. Unfortunately for Sam, seeing as she was standing on the steps leading up to the door, her foot slipped when it found nowhere to stand on. Losing her balance, she was sure she was going to fall when Danny immediately rushed in to help her, his strong arms swiftly coming to grab her by her waist, their faces mere inches apart. 

Against her better judgement, the hazel-eyed girl couldn’t do anything to prevent losing herself in Danny’s baby blue depths. Certainly, nobody would blame her, not when their breaths mingled from the close proximity, or when his eyes reflected a worry she’d rarely seen beforeーhe was worried for her, she realised with a little too much gleeー, or when they were so, so close all she had to do was inch her head forward just a little to close the distance and feel those hypnotising lips of his onー.

“Uh...what’s going on here?”

Slowly, very slowly, even comically so, the two turned their heads to the direction of the voice. Only to find Jazz propped against the doorframe behind her brother and flashing them a very interested look, a smile dancing along her lips. 

The effect was instantaneous. The two scrambled to get away from each other, almost as if they’d suddenly realised the other was made out of hot lava and they were burning their hands, muttering excuses and such other nonsense Jazz chose to ignore completely. 

Oh, denial. Simultaneously one of the most entertaining and frustrating stages of admitting you like someone. 

Clearing his throat, Danny was the first one to find his voice, even though his cheeks still burned. “S-Sam! It’s great to see you! I was starting to believe you couldn’t make it in the end.”

“Oh! No, no.” She shook her head slightly with a hand raised up. “I’m sorry I made you wait, I, uh, I just had a little trouble finding the place. That’s all.” Fine, so saying she had trouble finding the one house in town with a humongous Ops Centre on its roof was a terrible lie, but no way in Hell was she going to say she found the place just fine but she took a few extra minutes with her hand raised about to knock on the door but finding herself unable to. 

That was just pathetic.

The slightly irritating grin never leaving her face, Jazz ushered their guest in. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you.” She let herself be guided through the doorstep to the kitchen, which, judging by the outline of some furniture she could vaguely make out, Sam guessed led to the living room. The space was a large and bright-coloured room that combined a somewhat retro 50’s style with far newer appliances and...was that a toxic-waste container?

“That’s our version of tupperware with leftovers.” Danny came to stand beside her and now Sam was wondering if she’d just said that aloud or if he could read minds. When he looked down at her, though, his expression was dead serious. “If you value your life, don’t open it.”

“Duly noted.” 

She was about to ask where she could sit down when the younger sibling moved a chair for her, gesturing at it with a flourish and flashing her a charming smile. “M’lady, this way, please.”

Rolling her eyes fondly, Sam took his hand and allowed him to help her sit, setting her spider backpack on top of the kitchen table. Once he was comfortably sitting on his own chair by her side, she swatted his arm in mock warning. “Just so you know, I’m only letting you treat me like ‘a lady,’” she air-quoted, “because, as your guest, is the right thing to do.” 

“I’m much obliged, Miss Manson.” Danny countered with a fake posh accent. 

Before the girl could so much as flick him on the nose, Jazz came inside carrying a plate full of cookies. “Care for one, Sam?”

Eying the plate carefully, she had to decline the offer. “Thank you, but I’m good.” In truth she couldn’t be sure the cookies were vegan, but saying she wasn’t hungry was much more polite than imposing her dietary choices on them. 

Sensing her discomfort, Danny smacked his forehead as realisation washed over him. “Duh, that’s right!” Startled by his outburst the two girls turned to look at him, exchanging confused glances. “You’re ultra-recyclo-vegetarian! I’m sorry, Sam. I forgot. I don’t think we have anything for you.”

Bringing one hand to her mouth, Jazz gasped. “Darn! That’s right. I’m so sorry, Sam; it totally slipped my mind.”

Her mind still reeling from Danny, once again, remembering something about her, she didn’t have the heart to say anything. “It’s okay, really. As I said, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Danny insisted. “Because I’m sure we have something around here you might be able to eat…” He trailed off, clearly thinking about what they had that Sam could possibly consume without breaking her moral code. Biting down his lip, he tried, “How about water?”

The Goth girl couldn’t help but snort. “ A tempting offer. I might take you up on it.”

“I’ll get you a glass.” As he got up to do just that, his older sister finally took notice of the purple spider resting on the table. 

“Wow.” She breathed out, clearly impressed. “You have quite a collection of badges on your bag!”

“Oh, this?” Sam pointed at the assortment of metallic, glinting badges adorning her faithful spider’s fur. “They’re mostly from charities and previous protests I’ve been in.” She explained. “You could say when something matters a lot to me, I make sure to give it a place of honour.”

“Cool, just make sure my father doesn’t see or he’ll shove a handful of Fenton badges your way.”

“‘Fenton badges’?”

“They’re regular badges with the word ‘Fenton’ on them.” Danny explained quickly, setting down a glass of water before Sam just as he regained his seat. 

After her brother helped himself to some cookies, Jazz left the plate on the counter before picking a seat for herself. She propped her elbows on the kitchen table, her fingers intertwined and her eyes staring at the Goth seriously from behind her hands. The image reminded Sam of the principals from high school based sitcoms whenever the protagonists got in trouble.

The mental image only made her feel like she’d got in trouble. 

“Uh...is everything okay?” She asked carefully.

“Everything’s fine, Sam.” Danny assured her with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. That only worried the girl further. “We’re just morally obligated to warn you about a few things first.”

“Such as…?” Sam eyed the Fenton siblings suspiciously, her skin prickling at their uncharacteristically odd behaviour. 

“Such as our parents' eccentricities.” Jazz finished, her voice completely serious. “Don’t get us wrong, Sam; our parents are talented inventors and passionate ghost hunters...” She trailed off, having trouble explaining things to an outsider. They never really had to explain their family’s antics to anybody else, they all knew; the difference lay in how they processed the information. So far, the entire town bar Tucker thought of them as kooks.

“But they’re so passionate they tend to overlook things.” Danny added. 

“Especially if they don’t fit their agenda...” Jazz muttered darkly, probably thinking nobody heard. But she was mistaken.

Sam was legitimately taken aback by the unexpected venom laced in Jazz’s statement. Even though this was only the second time she got to meet the eldest Fenton sibling, their last encounter seemed to indicate Jazz was the type of person who always measured her words. Straight-laced, careful, mature...Maybe even calculating under the right circumstances. She seemed to place great importance on not letting her emotions show, for some reason. But, seemingly, their parents’ job was a sore spot for her. 

As her mind went back to their conversation at Verde Que Te Quiero Verde, Sam found herself thinking she couldn’t blame Jazz for her low opinion on their parents’ chosen career. Who wouldn’t grow resentful of a career path that, judging by Danny’s stories, not only had it brought shame and embarrassment onto their children their whole lives, but also led them to being neglected in favour of something most people didn’t even know existed until recently?

As much as she’d personally wished her mother would leave her alone growing up, Sam knew what emotional neglect felt like all too well. 

“I see.” She said finally, taking extra care in not letting her thoughts shine through. She needed to appear nonchalant, willing to listen. “So, what should I know?”

Danny and Jazz exchanged a look, silently discussing how to approach the topic. Understandably, Danny had been taken by surprise when Sam asked if she could come over and talk about ghosts. After all, who in their right mind wanted to talk about ghosts? Most citizens would just watch him fight them, sneer at him once the battle was over, and exclaim ‘good riddance!’ before turning on their heels to go back to their monotonous lives. 

The only exceptions to the norm were Team Phantom  (and even they’d only started showing interest begrudgingly, since they had no other choice), Danny Phantom’s fan club, and Valerie in her early days as a ghost hunterーnow that she thought she knew everything about mischievous spirits she could possibly need, she’d become more of an ‘attack first, questions never’ kinda gal. 

Luckily for Danny, the moment she noticed his blank expression, she was quick to explain it was her Gothic nature talking. Her passion for the paranormal and occult just couldn’t miss the opportunity of getting to know more from the town’s resident experts. 

Now, if only said experts weren’t almost as single-minded as a certain Red Huntress…

He wasn’t sure why, but a part of Danny just couldn’t bear the thought of Sam disliking ghostsーdisliking your ghost half, you meanーthe same way Valerie or his parents did. She was one of the most accepting people he’d met in a long time, he wouldn’t know what to do if Danny Phantom jeopardised that like it jeopardised his relationship with Valerie. 

That was why it was so important she understood! If he and Jazz could get through to her before their parents started feeding her their very anti-ghost ideas, then maybe he wouldn’t lose another person to Amity Park’s almost unanimous anti-ghost sentiment. He wouldn’t have to pretend to be somebody he was not in front of somebody else he cared about. 

With a nod of his head, Danny allowed Jazz to take the floor. “First and foremost, you should know our parents are far better in practice than in theory.”

Sam blinked, not following. “I don’t think I understand…”

“It’s just,” Jazz started, biting her lip, her hands fidgeting as she tried to find the right words to say, “they know the basics, you see? They know everything on how to take down a ghost and apply that knowledge to their inventions...with varying results,” she muttered that last part to herself. “But we don’t think they really understand what makes a ghost tick, you know what I mean?”

The Goth could only stare blankly at her, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But you just said they know how to take down ghosts...Doesn’t that mean they know what makes them tick?”

“What Jazz means is they don’t understand their motivations.” Danny corrected. “To our parents, all ghosts care about is causing mayhem and destruction, but not all ghosts can possibly be like that, can they?”

Although it was phrased like a question, there was something about the way he said it that made Sam see it as anything but. The certainty in his voice, the almost manic glint in his eyes askingーno, beggingーher to understand. It wasn’t mere, hopeful speculation. As much as Danny liked seeing the good in people, he wasn’t just giving ghosts the benefit of the doubt; it was like he knew they were far more than just ectoplasmic remnants of human conscience. 

Still, despite everything, her mouth started talking before her brain had time to catch up. “But do they even have any motivation at all?” She didn’t know why, but she felt like wincing when Danny’s hopeful expression turned dejected. Like a kicked puppy. “I mean, all ghosts do whenever they come to Amity Park is cause some sort of trouble or even go as far as plotting world domination.” 

Why did she say that? Wasn’t she trying to give the spectres the benefit of the doubt as well? She explicitly came here for answers that’d justify her sudden belief, her sudden need to believe, ghosts weren’t as evil as she’d been told. She was looking for that same reason that led her ancestors to trusting and forming a solid alliance with them all those centuries ago. 

Why was her mind trying to sabotage that?

Sensing his brother’s discomfort, Jazz was quick to step in. For reasons he wasn’t ready to admit, it was important Sam was on their side. “Take Danny Phantom, for instance,” she said, seemingly unaware of the way Sam’s breath hitched at the mention of his name. “Nobody knows what he’s up to, but for all intents and purposes, he seems to only care about protecting Amity Park.”

“That 's...true.” The Goth admitted, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she thought of the town’s controversial hero. “Except for a few incidents, he only ever appears if the town’s in danger.”

Sam didn’t say much, she was just stating the obvious. But hearing her admit he was trying to save Amity Park rather than destroy or rule it brought a grin to Danny’s face. “Our parents don’t get that. For them, it’s more like, ‘you’ve seen one ghost, you’ve seen them all’”, as he explained their parents’ mindset, Danny’s voice took on a deeper tone, causing Sam to guess he was making an imitation of his dad’s voice. “They don’t think Phantom, or any ghost for that matter, can be anything other than trouble.”

A dark, heavy cloud seemed to settle over the raven haired boy’s shoulders. His ocean blue eyes lost their shine, the corners of his lips turned upside down, and he suddenly looked much older than he really was. He seemed so...tired. As if he were carrying a huge weight over his shoulders and were exhausted from it. 

“They…” he began to say before he had to swallow the bitter lump in his throat. It was so difficult to get the words out, knowing what they entailed, without getting emotional. But Sam couldn’t possibly know just how much it all affected him. She just couldn’t. “They dehumanise them.”

Sam could only stand looking at Danny for a few more seconds before she had to avert her gaze, focusing on the kitchen counter instead as she bit down her lip guiltily. He looked so...un-Danny. She began picking at her nails as she realised his parents weren’t all that different from her; not even a week prior she’d also been convinced ghosts were nothing more than ectoplasmic scum. Cold, unfeeling, wicked. Even now, even as she came to understand she should give them a chance, she found herself having trouble trying to move on from that mindset her people had spent a good chunk of her life getting into her head. 

Hating ghosts was second nature at this point. 

“I…” Sam started weakly, clearing her throat to give herself a few more seconds to compose herself. This was going to be hard. “I think I understand. It’s like all those movies, isn’t it?” She said, her voice tinged with a lightness she didn’t quite feel. “Like...like those stories with over-complicated plots that can, ultimately, be summarised by ‘don’t judge a book by its cover,’ right?”

Actually getting the words out was proving itself to be a Herculean task. She didn’t even know what she was saying. Referencing one of the oldest tropes to ever exist? Really? No matter how hard she was trying for the sake of her alliance with Phantomーand not because, for whatever reason, she now wanted to believe he couldn’t possibly be as bad as she initially thought. No wayー, literally all ghosts that’d ever visited Amity Park except for the Ghost King had questionable morals, at best, or were downright diabolical, at worst. 

Just trying to get the words out made her stomach tighten! 

But then she looked over to Danny from underneath her eyelashes, feeling too shy and unsure for her comfort, and her breath hitched. 

Danny was positively glowing. For reasons Sam couldn’t understand, having someone try to see things eye to eye with him meant the world to Danny. The way his expression softened when he looked at her was almost too much to bearーher cheeks felt like they were on fire, but Sam still had half the mind to understand suddenly splashing her face with her, mostly untouched, glass of water would make some eyebrows raise in bewilderment. 

Her heart pounding in her ears and her mind screaming at her not to do anything weird or out-of-place (in a disturbingly similar voice to her mother), the hazel-eyed girl reached a hand across the table and rested it on top of Danny’s, who jolted in his seat upon making contact. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.” She said softly, smiling at him. 

His mind reeling from the feeling of Sam’s warm hand over his cold palm, Danny let out an almost inaudible gasp, his eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling. But as he registered her promise, he couldn’t help himself from giving her hand a gentle squeeze, his face morphing itself into an adoring expression as his heart did somersaults in his chest cavity. 

Where have you been all my life?

Startled by his own thought process, Danny roughly snatched his hand away from Sam’s, under her slightly hurt gazeーwhich she immediately tried to cover upーand Jazz’s questioning eyes. Before he could try and dwell on his thoughts, however, a booming voice came from down the lab and progressively made its way upstairs.

“Sorry we’re late!” Jack’s jovial voice came from the staircase. “We were finishing up some last minute adjustments.”

“Our latest invention promises to be our greatest one yet!” A feminine voice said excitedly. Sam could only guess that was Mrs. Fenton.

“There’s still much to be done, of course. But as soon as we work out a few twerks and we’re done designing the general outline, everything else will go smoothly.” Coming in before her husband, Maddie moved easily around her kitchen, going over to the fridge to grab some fudge for Jack before reaching up for some plates from the cupboard. She kept waltzing around the kitchen table and her children, so engrossed in her retelling she failed to notice the ebony haired girl sitting down beside them. “You kids haven’t touched the container unit with the ecto-weenies, haveー?” She trailed off abruptly, something far more interesting than her home’s ecto-induced food catching her eye the moment she turned around to finally face her kids. 

There, sitting around her kitchen table, right next to her son, was both the most unique and beautiful girl she’d ever seen him with. Any other mother would be taken aback to see her son with a girl with a side of her head shaved off and dyed purple and green (albeit only the little ponytail sticking out), wearing enough dark clothes to be confused with a mortician or someone in mourning, and heavy, dark make-up coating her face. 

But not Maddie Fenton. 

Oh no. 

Aside from being a ghost hunterーa career path that was, regrettably, not held in high regard by her entourageー, meaning she wasn’t one to judge others’ live choices, Maddie was just shocked to see her son with a girl. Period. 

The last time she’d ever even heard him gush about how pretty a girl was was in his Freshman year of high school. First over that Paulina Sanchez who, going by what Jazz told her, was Casper High’s beauty queenーit was only natural her teenage son would have a phase where he was after the head cheerleader; just like Jazz had a phase where she was into that motorcycle-riding bad boy with greasy hair. 

Whatever happened to that boy?

And a few months after that he seemed smitten with Valerie Gray, the daughter of Damon Gray; a former security expert at Axion Labs that’d helped them during the whole ordeal with the Ghost King. A pleasant man, but even he didn’t seem to hold them in high esteem. 

They went out several times all throughout the extent of two weeks, but just as she was about ready to squeal and tackle his little man for getting his first girlfriend and growing up, one day he dejectedly told them Valerie thought it best to remain friends. 

Ever since then, romance all but became a taboo topic around Danny. 

Aside from a few times he’d tell them he had a date (which never seemed to lead anywhere), not a peep could be heard out of him when it came to girls. Ever since he was well into his Freshman year, at the tender age of fourteen bordering fifteen, girl-talk became nonexistent. 

And, Maddie had to admit, there was a time she came to believe her son never brought girls up because he just wasn’t interested in them. Seeing as the only other person he ever spent time with was Tucker, Maddie once thought Danny was gay but too afraid to come out, fearing they might disown him or something. 

Only for that little theory to burn up in flames when she tried letting him know she knew and fully supported himーto which Danny almost choked to death on his breakfast, before fervently denying any sort of romantic relationship with his best friend. 

He swore up and down the reason he never brought up the topic of romance was because there wasn’t anyone he was interested in. Something he religiously followed, never even talking about a girl (or boy, Maddie still kept that possibility open) who he’d simply come to think was pretty in passing.

Until now. 

Now there was a lovely young lady in her kitchen. Sitting right beside her baby, who looked as embarrassed as if he were a teenager again and was being bombarded with a thousand photos of him and his date for Homecoming. Now, Maddie wasn’t quite knowledgeable on street fashion and subcultures as she’d been back in college, but just by looking at this girl (who was staring, wide-eyed, right back at her) she could tell she used her clothes to express herself and her individuality.

She knew who she was or, at least, who she wanted to be. Good. 

Straightening her back slightly, Maddie tried to put the girl at ease using her most motherly tone. “Oh, hello there!” She walked over to her and reached out her hand for her to shake. She noted with pleasure she had a firm yet gentle grip. Oh, dear God, please let this girl be the one for Danny! “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Maddie, Danny and Jazz’s mother.”

“Oh! Uh…” With a start, she smiled back at the kind woman in front of her, albeit feeling a little awkward. “I’m Sam. I’m friends with Dannyーnice to meet you.”

“Believe me, Sam,” Maddie’s grin widened, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, probably from the countless hours of etiquette classes her mother had drilled into her head, Sam jumped to her feet to greet the woman before her properly. 

The Goth was in awe at the sight before her. Mrs Fenton had to be a woman in her late-forties to early-fifties, given she’d given birth to two kids who were now in their early twenties, and yet she didn’t look a year over thirty. She had to be one of the most beautiful women she’d ever met, with her auburn bob cut that had only the tiniest hints of a grey hair or two; her smooth, wrinkle-free face that’d make Pamela sick with envyーshe’d spent a fortune on skincare products and even then she didn’t look nearly as young as Danny’s mother; and she had to have the best figure she’d ever seen, even after given birth twice! As unorthodox a piece of clothing as it was, her blue hazmat suit hugged her body perfectly, accentuating all her curves. Mrs Fenton was probably only second to Delilah in terms of voluptuousness, but seriously, that woman was basically a goddess walking on Earth. And her deep, purple eyes hid a mixture of motherly warmth and care as well as an intelligence and sharpness rivaled only by Grandma Ida. 

It was funny, Sam noted. Had Mrs Fenton been born a witch, and she probably would be ruling the coven now, not her. 

“And I’m Jack Fenton, nice to meet you kiddo!” Danny’s father exclaimed, trapping Sam’s hand in a deadly grip. He was shaking her hand so enthusiastically Sam was genuinely surprised he wasn’t shaking her up and down like a rag doll. 

“Nice to meet you too, Mr Fenton.” She said, taking a good look at the man who’d raised Danny. 

Mr Fenton was...how could she put this gently? The opposite of his wife. He wasn’t ugly by any means! But while Maddie looked like she could be on the cover of a fashion magazine, he was a rather plain-looking fellow. Jack was a man of great girth, although not necessarily overweight; he certainly had enough energy to get an electric plant running with nothing but his personality. Clad in a large, orange hazmat suit that somehow both matched and clashed horribly with his wife’s more classy blue, his age was far more apparent. Perhaps he didn’t look like he had a foot on the other door, but the years hadn’t been as kind to him as they’d been to Mrs Fenton. He still had a full head of hair, but his sideburns and his nape were already stark white, while the hair on his head kept some colourーa dark grey. The little bit of skin Sam could see (mostly his face, really), with his strong, squared jaw, was mostly unblemished, except for crow’s feet around his round eyes. He definitely didn’t look too old, just...older than his wife.

Even then, Sam could still make out enough details that showed this was Danny’s dad. 

At first glance it seemed both Fenton kids took mostly after their mother (a never-ending source of comfort for them, she was sure), but there was enough of Jack’s genes in their appearance to tell the kinship. 

Judging from his mop of grey hair, Sam figured he used to have black hair, not unlike his son’s messy locks. If she looked closely, the girl could make out Mr Fenton’s eyes; a dark shade of greyish blue, similar to Danny’s icy stare and Jazz’s inquisitive, aqua eyes. And last but not least, there was the issue with their height. Mr Fenton was huge! Probably the tallest member of the family, and that was saying something. Even Danny, standing at an impressive 5’9, was towered over by his dad. Jazz took after her mum in that regard, thank Goodness.

So, summing up.

A lovely, genius daughter working on her PhD; a charming, witty, hot-as-Hell (who said that?!) son about to work with NASA; a mother who was both gorgeous and another genius, and a huge father who might not be George Clooney but seemed to be a very decent human being (and, considering he was an expert ectologist and inventor, another genius to boot). 

What was this, the over-achieving family? A family specifically designed to excel in everything her own family already didn’t hold a candle to anyone to?! And did she really have to be so short in comparison!?

As much as the stereotypically girly part of herself she worked so hard to push down squealed over a healthy height difference between a possible boyfriend and her, the number of inches Danny had on her was just ridiculous. And now it turns out his entire family is better than hers one way or another. Unless she performed magic in their very kitchen, Sam had no idea how she could possibly impress her in-laws. Ever. 

And, she realised with a start, her mind was veering into insane territory again… She rationalised she was just thinking it’d be very difficult for her to impress the Fentons if she were to date Danny. Which she wasn’t going to do. Ever. They were just friends and her life was too complicated to even be thinking about romance right now. Besides, she’d never be able to live with herself knowing she’d have to keep her partner (be it Danny or someone else entirely) in the dark about a huge aspect of her life. 

Danny deserved way better than the kind of life her dad was stuck with. 

Almost as if sensing her inner monologue, Jack almost gave her a heart attack when he spoke next. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Sam. We thought it’d be Tucker who Danno would bring over.” He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder and brought her closer to him. “So imagine our surprise when we see you here! We might’ve been a little too overzealous about it.”

“A little?” Sam heard Jazz whisper to her brother, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“That’s right,” Maddie agreed, her smile so wide her cheeks hurt and a sense of impending doom gripped her son’s heart. “It’s just been so long since Danny last brought a girlfriend home, and so beautiful too!”

His cheeks practically on fire, Danny was quick to shout, panicking, “She’s not my girlfriend!”, at the same time as Sam, equally embarrassed, exclaimed, “I’m not his girlfriend!”

The Fenton matriarch’s good mood deflated a little at that. “You’re not?”

“No, Mum. She’s not.” Danny confirmed as he scrubbed his face with one hand. Why was it that every time he brought home someone other than Tucker they immediately assumed he must’ve found the womanーor man, Tucker never let him live that one downーhe was going to marry? It wasn’t like he was such a recluse, was it? ...on second thought, better not answer that. “I already told you a friend was interested in meeting you, you told me you were okay with it and, well,” he said with some sarcasm in his voice as he extended his arms to his sides, making a flourish, “here she is.”

“Well, yeah. But when you said ‘friend’ we thought you meant Tucker, son.” His dad admitted, scratching the back of his head. 

“I have more friends aside from Tuck, you know?”

If his parents immediately assuming Sam was his girlfriend and openly addressing her as such right in front of her hadn’t been mortifying enough, the deafening silence that settled in the kitchen then certainly was. 

Was he really that much of a loser his parents didn’t seriously believe him capable of making friends with people outside of Tucker? Granted, most of his friendsーDora, Wulf, Frostbite, Cujo…ーwere the very same creatures from another dimension they’d sworn to hunt down, strap to a lab table, and dissect ‘molecule by molecule’, so they couldn’t possibly know about them. But come on!

Grimacing at the uncomfortable, and a little humiliating, atmosphere, Jazz cleared her throat to catch their parents’ attention. “I think what Danny means is that, if he’d really wanted to invite Tucker over, he wouldn’t have even asked your permission for it.” The moment her mum and dad crossed their arms over their chests and sent her a disapproving look due to the way she’d just disregarded their authority she was quick to backpedal. “A-after all, he practically spends more time here than in his own house! And he’s ever really been into ghosts to begin with, so…”

Jazz had a point. Maddie sighed through her nose, a little disappointed. “I guess you’re right.” Her expression turned cheery again almost instantaneously, clapping her hands before her face as she redirected her focus on the hazel-eyed girl still standing awkwardly near her kitchen table. “So! Sam, Danny’s told us you wanted to meet us, why’s that?”

“It’s not to place another restraining order on us, is it?” Her husband asked dubiously, his eyes narrowing on the young lady in suspicion. 

Jazz facepalmed herself while Danny was too busy all but slamming his head against the table. 

“Whaー? No, of course not.” Sam assured him, shaking her head and hands in front of her as it to emphasise her point. “I, uh, I asked Danny if I could come meet you because I’m really interested in the paranormal and such. I’m a Goth; you see,” she gestured vaguely at her form, “it sort of comes with the aesthetic. So when he told me you guys were ghost hunters I couldn’t help myself; I just had to meet you.”

Before the Goth knew it, the enormous man she’d been talking to grabbed her around the shoulders with just one arm and, with impressive strength, lifted her up off the floor, a broad smile playing along his lips. “Don’t tell me you want to get in the business?” He asked with the same excitement of a kid on Christmas.

“N-not r-really…” she gasped out, the force behind Mr. Fenton’s grasp knocking the air out of her lungs. “I-I’m just...really c-curious...t-that’s all…”

Panicking at the sight of Sam’s face turning blue, Danny jumped to his feet, followed closely by Jazz. “Dad, put her down!” In the blink of an eye he was by his dad’s side, gently coaching the raven haired girl out of his bone-crushing grip. The moment her feet touched the floor, Sam began taking greedy gulps of air, her hand in Danny’s firm but gentle ones and Jazz patting her back comfortingly. 

“Careful, honey.” Mrs Fenton scolded her husband lightheartedly, “You know you tend to get carried away.”

“Right. Sorry about that, Sam.”

Too breathless to dignify that with a verbal answer, Sam limited herself to giving him a thumbs-up. 

“How about we cut to the chase and you guys show Sam what you’re working on, huh?” Jazz suggested, one hand still rubbing her guest’s back soothingly. If after today Sam insisted on being friends with her brother, he would have a lifetime of making it up to her. 

“Great idea, Jazzypants!” Jack exclaimed excitedly. He and his wife then proceeded to usher their kids and guest out of the kitchen and down to the lab. 

Sam miraculously caught herself before she could snort. ‘Danno’? ‘Jazzypants’? She would’ve laughed at the ridiculous nicknames hadn’t she remembered her mother’s horrendous habit of calling her ‘Sammy-kins.’

Did everything that woman do have to bring nothing but pain and misery to her daughter?

Walking down the stairs to what the witch could only assume was the lab Jazz mentioned earlier, Maddie turned her head around slightly so she could look at Sam as she asked over her shoulder. “I don’t think we’ve asked you about your family, dear; not even about your full name.”

“It’s Manson, Sam Manson. My parents…”she trailed off, making a grimace. “Let’s just say in twenty-one years of existence I’ve never been able to understand what they do for a living.” That wasn’t technically a lie. Even if Sam was perfectly aware of her mother’s double life as a witch (mostly because she was destined to follow in her footsteps), the financial side of things always eluded her. For all she knew her dad could be a smuggler. 

“Wait, ‘Manson’?” It was Jack’s turn to turn his head to face her, an bushy eyebrow raised in surprise. “You mean like that stinking rich family living in the uptown part of town?”

Now it was Maddie’s face that lit up in realisation. “Oh, that’s right! Danny and Jazz did mention something like that when they came back from their night out.”

Sam shot Danny and Jazz a dirty look, to which they responded by smiling awkwardly in return and whistling a happy tune while averting all sorts of eye contact, respectively; “You know, before I knew you my family’s wealth was one of my best-kept secrets. Now it’s got to a point where I’ll be walking down the street and some random kid will point out at me and say, ‘Look, mummy! Look! It’s that rich girl!’”

“Come on, Sam,” a devilish smirk made its way to Danny’s face. “You’re making things up.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it actually happened.”

Stepping down the last step to the basement, Jack extended his arms high in the air as he announced, “Here we are! The Fenton Lab!”

The moment she descended to the basement and was able to see the family lab for the first time, Sam’s jaw all but touched the floor. Strolling down inside the spacious laboratory, she couldn’t help but spin around, trying to find every single nook and secret laying right before her, marvelling at the sight. 

The Fenton Lab was a greyish room with metal-covered walls and a tiled floor that occupied the entirety of the basement. Various machines whose workings Sam could only guess littered around the room, alongside several lab tables filled to the brim with test tubes, trays, notes, and neon-green liquids pulled up to the walls, as well as different beeping monitors. 

But what had to be, by far, the most impressive device in the entire lab was the large, octogonal gates standing in the far corner of the room. They were currently closed, their yellow and black striped doors in full display, and the big, red lightbulb Sam suspected would blink when used was turned off resting on top of it. 

Taking a step closer, one hand pointing at the machine, she breathed out in awe, “Whoa...What’s that?”

“You have a good eye!” Maddie complimented as she came to stand right beside her guest. One hand directed at their most prized invention and the other on her hip, it was obvious she was about to give a lecture worthy of any college professor. “This is the Fenton Ghost Portal. Our greatest invention yet.”

The Goth’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. “The Fenton Ghost Portal…?” She echoed, astonished. 

The hazmat clad lady hummed in response. “That’s right. This baby is our pride and joy; a little pipe dream we’ve had since college. Isn’t that right, Jack?”

“You got it, baby!” Mr Fenton agreed, crossing his arms with a proud smile on his face. “Except there’s nothing impossible about this beauty. Dreams do come true!”

“Although,” Maddie added, a grim look on her face, “we almost indefinitely put the project on hold after...an unfortunate accident back in our Sophomore year in Wisconsin University.”

Taking advantage of the distance between them, Sam, and their parents, Danny leaned in closer to Jazz to whisper in her ear, “Unfortunate in more ways than one.” If only his parents knew that day they created a monster...Although the time he travelled through time to their college days proved nothing could’ve prevented Vlad from turning into the frootloop he was today. The monster inside him had nothing to do with his ghost half.

Unaware of the exchange taking place between the siblings, the Goth girl asked, “An accident? What happened?”

“The prototype malfunctioned and ended up blasting good ol’ Vladdie in the face.” Jack explained, a distant look in his eyes. 

“Maybe if he hadn’t stuck his face right in front of the working portal, none of that would’ve happened…” Danny muttered darkly for Jazz’s ears only. 

“Or at least worn safety goggles.” His sister whispered back.

Their father went on, not having heard a word that was said between his children. “The exposure to the ecto-chemicals gave him a nasty case of ecto-acne that had him hospitalised for years. It took him over twenty years to forgive me.” He said sadly, only to immediately brighten up the next second. As someone who came from a family that usually only emoted silent judgement, fake cheer, or total apathy, Sam was having a bit of a hard time trying to catch up to all of Mr Fenton’s many emotions. “But we finally patched things up seven years ago and now we’re all buddies again!”

Danny smiled in satisfaction at the way his mum’s posture stiffened up, her arms crossed defensively in front of her, and her forehead creased in aggravation. “‘Buddies’ might be a bit of a stretch…” she mumbled angrily, before taking on a more neutral tone, “I don’t know Jack. I still think the years have turned Vlad into a bit of a freak.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, baby!” Her husband whined. “You’d be a little eccentric too if you spent all of your time alone inside a big, lonely mansion like he does!”

“I can attest to that…” Sam muttered to herself as she hugged herself, her eyes on the floor, years of lonely memories coming back in full force. Then she realised, ��Wait, did you just say your friend lives in a big mansion all by himself?”

“I wouldn’t say all by himself,” Danny chimed in. “He has a cat keeping him company.”

Ignoring him, she pressed on, “And you said his name was Vlad?”

“That we did! Our good ol’ friend Vlad Masters!” Jack confirmed with a huge grin on his face. His was the only smiling face amongst his family. Something told Sam Mr. Masters hadn’t exactly won the crowd over…

The raven haired girl turned her head to face the Fenton siblings so fast she almost gave herself whiplash as she sent them a pointed look. “You guys are friends with Vlad freaking Masters and you think me having a little money is a big deal?!”

“Actually, you’re filthy, stinking rich yourself.” Jack corrected matter-of-factly and, for a moment, Sam wished she could just forgo her grandmother’s insistence on treating those older than you with respect and glower at the Fenton patriarch.

The only answer she got to her incredulous outburst were a pair of twin nervous laughs and shrugs.

The hazel-eyed girl took a deep breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration before turning back to their dad. “Um...and what exactly does it do?” She asked dubiously, redirecting everyone’s attention back to the portal with a jerk of her thumb. She just hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was. 

“It’s a portal to the Ghost Zone, where ghosts live and all that.” Danny’s voice confirmed her suspicions. 

With his hands sticking inside his pockets he, too, approached the enormous machine, coming to stand right beside Sam in the process. Turning her head to him, her brow furrowed in worry when she noticed the way his forehead creased as he beheld the portal. 

His face was bare of any telltale signs that would usually expose his true feelings on the matter; no creased forehead, no furrowed brow, no narrowed eyes, his lips were sealed in a thin, neutral line, and his hands in his pockets stopped him from clenching his fists. At first glance Danny was the perfect picture of calmness and indifference but something told Sam a very different storyーcall it sixth sense, call it her witchy instincts, or just plain care for her friend. There was something...dark hidden behind his eyelids. As well as something else. Something oh-so sad it made her heart squeeze in sympathy. Danny’s otherwise baby blue pools had turned the same colour of a troubled sea in a stormy night. Deep, and cold, and suffocating.

Lost in memories of times and misadventures caused by the eerie green hidden behind the portal’s doors, Danny started at the feeling of something warm sliding through his hands. Looking down, he saw Sam grabbing his hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He didn’t realise he’d been smiling until his father spoke up again. 

“Well, Sam. What would you like to know?”

“Um...as much as you can tell me about ghosts?”

“Well,” Maddie took the floor, pulling her hoodie up and her goggles down. “That’s quite a lot, and I don’t think you’d feel comfortable staying at a house whose owners’ you’ve just met. So why don’t we start with the basics for now and you come back here anytime you want to continue this conversation?”

“I’d like that.” 

“Great. Now, come Sam. There’s so much to say and so little time.” With a motion of her hand, the ectologist gestured to the girl to follow her. Rolling his eyes and fearing what was to come, Danny pulled a chair out for his guest around a conference table standing in the middle of the room before taking a seat around it himself, Jazz following suit. Instead of sitting down like the youths present did, Maddie stood in front of them beside a blackboard Jack had dragged from the other side of the lab. 

Picking a chalk up, she began to scribble down on the board. “You see, Sam, the first thing you must know about ghosts is that they’re spiritual beings from another dimension, unlike pop-culture and legends where they’re described as the lost souls of the deceased.”

“That is not to say some of those spooks weren’t alive once.” Jack conceded. Unlike his wife, he’d ultimately sat down and was now tweaking with some strange-looking gun. “The thing is, whatever humanity or sense of morals they might have had once is long gone. Now they’re nothing more than ectoplasmic remains of human conscience.”

“Exactly.” Maddie agreed. “They think they’re intelligent, rational creatures capable of free will, but really those are just delusions caused by memories they no longer possess.”

Danny had to hold back a growl at that, otherwise Sam or, even worse, his parents might pick it up and ask him about it. With a furrowed brow he slumped down on the table and propped his head over his crossed arms. They really knew nothing, didn’t they? As excellent inventors as his parents might be, the way they approached ectology was closer to a pseudoscience than the discipline they claimed to have dedicated most of their lives to. As he and Jazz told Sam before, they were experts at everything one needed to know about a ghost’s innerworkings and how to exploit that to their benefitーand by extension his benefit, since he’d been borrowing their inventions for yearsー, but they were absolutely hopeless when it came to their motivations, their ambitions; what made them tick!

Listening to them going on and on about the same old, misguided story was just painful at this point.

Or course they had free will! It was precisely because of that he was constantly fighting ghosts, because they chose to fight him! Nobody said it was a smart choice but, hey, it was theirs. Just like many other ghosts chose to stay in the Ghost Zone and live their afterlives rather than cause trouble. The Far Frozeners, Clockwork, Wulf, Dora once she was free from her brother's abuse...Those were all examples of very powerful ghosts that chose to live peacefully!

But did their parents care? Noooooo! At this point he was sure they just wanted a lab rat. 

“The one thing that truly motivates a ghost to do the things it does,”ーit; could they be any more dehumanising?ー, “is its obsession.”

Okay. So offensive pronouns aside, that was accurate.

“Their obsession?” Sam echoed. She didn’t remember ever hearing about such a thing. 

“Indeed.” Maddie nodded, still scribbling furiously down on the board. “A ghost’s obsession is what ties them down to our world.” She explained as she made a diagram of a human head with the word ‘memories’ written on it and an arrow pointing at the silhouette of a ghost with the word ‘obsession’ scribbled down. “Remember when we said ghosts think they have free will due to memories they no longer possess?” Sam nodded. “Their obsession is those memories. It usually manifests in the form of something they used to hold dearー.”

“Or something that eventually consumed them.” Jack added, not once looking up from the strange device in his hands. 

“That’s right, hon. Something dear or that eventually consumed them that was so important to them it became all they cared about when they passed on. Fulfilling that obsession is what motivates them in the afterlife.”

“So, for example,” Sam started, a finger tapping her chin in contemplation, “if a person was so overworked when they were alive they ended up hating said job with a passion or even lost their minds over it, then anything related to it is their obsession?”

“Very well, Sam.” Maddie nodded appreciatively. 

As Mrs Fenton droned on, her voice became background noise. Sam was a mess. She didn’t know what to make of things so far. On the one hand, not only were the Fentons answering her questions and expanding on the knowledge she’d been brought up with, it confirmed everything she already knew! Ghosts were dangerous and unpredictable; they couldn’t be trusted because they’d turn on you on a whim. It’d happened before and that directly resulted in her people living in the shadows, terrified of being discovered, for centuries. 

Ghosts were immoral monsters.

And yet...she found she couldn’t fully believe anything they were saying. She didn’t want to believe what they were saying. If ghosts were truly that bad, then why did Phantom try to put her to safety? Why was he always fighting other ghosts for the sake of the town? Could it be that Amity Park was his obsession and he was just trying to defend his turf rather than the innocent? But that didn’t explain why he’d go out of his way to try and save her! Her, the Witch Queen, of all people!

Everything she once believed in and the questions that’d been plaguing her mind collided against each other. She didn’t know what to think anymore. But she did know one thing:

She’d promised Danny she’d try to keep an open mind. 

“Then what about Phantom?” She heard herself asking. When the Fentons’ questioning glances rested on her, she had to fight the urge to shrink under their gaze. Come on, Sam. You’re the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park and you’re doing this for your people, and nothing gets in between you and the sake of your people. She cleared her throat. “I mean, what’s his obsession?”

“Fudge if I know.” Mr Fenton mumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“Jack!” Mrs Fenton gasped. “Don’t cuss in front of the children!”

“I said ‘fudge’!” He defended himself. 

“And we’re not children anymore!” Danny and Jazz protested in unison. 

Rubbing her temple, Maddie let out a loud sigh. “What my husband means, Sam, is that Phantom is a bit of an anomaly.”

“An anomaly?” She raised her eyebrow in confusion. “An anomaly how?”

Once again, the Fenton matriarch turned around to write on her board, only this time she began a list. “For starters, the only sightings there’s ever been of him only date back to seven years ago, and even then he was already surprisingly powerful. Then, there’s the fact he’s constantly changing.”

“What do you mean?”

“For one, just when you think you got all his spectral abilities down, he surprises you with some new trick.” Jack explained, ignoring the way what he said next had his son scowling and his daughter giggling behind her palm. “He’s almost like a pageant dog. And then there’s his appearance; when he first appeared he looked like some prepubescent kidー.”

Must every ghost hunter assume I hadn’t already gone through puberty when I got my powers? Danny thought bitterly to himself. 

“ーand now he looks like he could be your age.” He finished. 

“His actions around here are both mysterious and suspicious, too.” Maddie added. 

“We’ve been trying to catch him since he first appeared, but the spook’s been managing to give us the slip every time.” Jack admitted.

His wife patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Aw, don’t you worry, honey. Sooner or later he’ll be all ours. It’s just a matter of time.”

“But by the time we finally catch him he might already be protected by the law or something!” He sulked. “Have you seen the sign when you enter the town? ‘Welcome to Amity Park; home of Danny Phantom!’” He scoffed, narrowing his eyes in disgust. “Might as well just call it, ‘The hauntedest place on Earth’, it’d be more accurate…”

“Uh, I think that’s already taken by some place called ‘Crystal Cove’, Dad.” Jazz pointed out. 

“Even if I do agree his increasing popularity is a cause for concern in terms of the town’s general sanity, there’s still many people who see him for what he is; a menace to society.” Mrs Fenton reasoned.

Just a week before, Sam would’ve agreed wholeheartedly with everything the Fentons said, but now she found herself squirming at the sound of their vile words. Had a few meetings with Phantom really warped her perspective on things that much? Looking down at her fidgeting hands resting on her lap, she had to deliberately stop herself from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her earーbecause she intended to push hair from the shaved side of her head away. When was she going to get used to that spell?

Unbeknownst to her, Danny was watching her every move. He wasn’t sure why, but the prospect of Sam siding with his parents and their misguided theories terrified him more than half the ghost fights he’d had in the last year. She was just so great...Even if they’d only hung out a few times, he already couldn’t believe there’d been a time where it’d just been him and Tuckerーand occasionally Jazz. 

She fit so well in their group it was like she was always meant to be one of them. Luckily she seemed to have taken their advice to heart and was indeed trying to keep an open mind; she even asked about his ghost-half. The halfa guessed it was probably an attempt to convince his parents (or maybe even herself) that not all ghosts could possibly be bad. And for that, pointless as it might be when it came to the Fentons, he was grateful. He just hoped she wouldn’t decide she was better off without him in her life.

It’d taken him twenty-one years to find her, he couldn’t lose her now.

Again, where did that come from?! 

He had to go back to trying to have a somewhat balanced sleep schedule. Sleep deprivation was doing a number on him. 

Just as he observed Sam, Jazz was keeping her eye on him. He looked so glum and tired...It was one thing having to hide who you are from your parents, but having to listen to them talk about how much they hate that thing you were hiding from them time and time again? It was enough to drive someone over the edge. 

Just by following his line of sight it became obvious this time he was far more worried about what Sam may think of this, may think of him. And if there was one thing her baby brother didn’t need, it was more things to worry about. 

Thinking quickly, the redhead scanned around the room, looking for something to divert everyone’s attention away from the topic at hand. As her eyes surveyed the dreaded Fenton Toaster (was that thing ever going to perish once and for all?), she took notice of an arrangement of pieces, wires, and circuit boards laying scattered on the floor. 

How could she have possibly missed that?

Her voice breaking everyone out of their own daze, she jerked a finger in the direction the pile of metal was, “Um, what is that?”

Following her pointing finger, her parents' expression brightened up. “That, Jazzyrincess, is our latest project; the Fenton Fermoir!”

“Dad knows French?” Danny asked, absolutely flabbergasted at the revelation. 

“I’ve known for weeks now and I’m still as surprised as you.” Jazz leaned back to whisper to him. Then she remembered something. “Wait, I thought you guys were going to make a special keychain for Danny; that is not a keychain.”

Squinting her eyes at the assortment of scrap metal on the floor, propelled by her arms, Sam leaned forward to the boy in front of her to join in on the conversation. “At least not one that fits inside a pocket.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, girls.” Maddie waved them off as she made her way to the yet-to-be-built Fenton Fermoir. “We finished Danny’s keychain weeks ago!”

“Which reminds me…” Jack rummaged inside his suit’s pockets until he fished out a simple set of keys with a badge with the company’s logo on it and handed it to his son. 

Bringing it to his face, Danny tried to appear enthusiastic. “Gee, thanks.” He stuffed his new keys inside his own jean pocket. “So. What does the Fenton Fermoir do?”

“Remember the portable ghost portal devices we created a few years ago?” Jack asked his kids, who nodded in response, then he noticed Sam’s blank stare. “Oh, that’s right. You weren’t there, Sam. The thing is, those gadgets could open up medium-sized ghost portals anywhere, so we thought we should perhaps try to create an opposite invention.”

“Wait, are you saying this thing’s supposed to be able to close ghost portals anywhere?” Danny asked. This was great news! If his parents finished the Fenton Fermoir and it worked, then he’d only need to power it up with his ecto-energy and the portal crisis would be over! He wouldn’t need to meet or rely on Lady Arcana anymore!

Somehow, the thought of not seeing the violet-eyed witch made his insides twist and his heart feel hollow. 

Man, sleep deprivation was getting worse each time!

“If we can get it to work.” Maddie lamented, kicking a cylindrical-looking piece around. “Whenever we try something happens and shuts it off! It’s almost as if our regular energy source isn’t the right one...or at least not enough.”

Well, there went his solution.

“So for now we’re stuck redesigning and rebuilding this baby until we find the right one.” Jack said optimistically. 

“It’s getting late, though, so why don’t we go upstairs and have dinner, hm?” Maddie suggested. “Sam, would you like to stay?”

The Goth was hesitant to reply. “Uh, I’d love to. But what are we having? It’s just...I, uh, I don’t eat meat.”

“Don’t worry. I always buy plenty of vegetables Danny and his dad barely even look at. You can have that.”

“Hey!” Both men cried out, offended. 

Giggling, the three women went back upstairs, followed closely by the still outraged men. 

During dinner, the weirdest thing happened. 

Nothing bad, really. But it was something Sam wasn’t used to at all. Most of the time, she only ever felt comfortable with her family when Grandma Ida was present, since she always acted like the understanding voice of reason she was beloved for back in the clan. And ever since she passed away, the atmosphere in her house was so tense you could cut it with a knife. The otherwise deathly quiet family dinners were only ever interrupted by her parents discussing how the business was doing, Mother’s next big, exclusive eventーsometimes they were true, sometimes they weren’tー, or to bring up her inadequacy as their daughter and, hence, heiress to then Manson name. 

The tension only melted away, even if just a little, when it was just her dad and her. 

But the Fentons…

Everything was so different. Animated chatter never left the table. Food was being passed around; conversations took place and questions about everyone’s day were asked; every once in a while someone would make a joke that would either elicit laughter or pained groans from everyone present...even herself. 

Their families really were very different. 

Despite everything, Sam loved her parents and knew, deep down, they loved her back. Her mother in particular just had a very selfish way of showing it. But the Fentons...They weren’t perfect. The way Danny and Jazz learned to rely on each other as well as their parents’ single-minded focus on their career were proof enough of that. But everyone sitting around that kitchen table, eating steak with a serving of mashed potatoes and peas, clearly loved each other very much.

When it came to family, life was a lottery. 

Sometimes you got heartless monsters, and other times you got loving people who were only humans and occasionally made mistakes. 

Maddie stopped mid-sentence, her fork with a piece of steak hanging in mid-air, because she noticed her husband doing something he shouldn’t. “Jack, are you still tweaking with that, even now?”

Stiffening up, for he’d been caught, he tried to play it cool. “Uh, no?” His wife’s arched eyebrow spoke volumes, making him give in. “Yes. But you can’t honestly expect me to stop now, babycakes! Not when I’m about to have a breakthrough!”

“I know I'm going to regret this” Jazz muttered, rolling her eyes, “but what’re you working on, Dad?”

The orange clad man replied by holding out his creation for all to see. It was a funny-looking, double-cannoned gun that had what seemed to be a compartment filled with goo in its back. “Behold, the new and improved Fenton Foamer!” He announced loudly before adding, almost as an afterthought. “Now in pocket size.”

Not understanding a word that was being said, Sam let the family talk, her focus directed at her stir-fried vegetables. 

“Is there something wrong with the old Fenton Foamer?” Danny asked. 

“No, but it never hurts to revisit your old work and try to improve it, son.” He replied, patting the device with one gloved hand. “Not only is this beauty more appropriate for travelling, but I’ve also been tinkering with a new formula for the foam. Trust me, nothing could possiblyー.”

All of a sudden, when the patting became too much for the prototype to handle, a ‘splurt’ sound could be heard at the same time as a bright, green goop flew across the table. Everyone’s jaws dropped in mortification. 

“ーgo wrong.” Jack finished lamely, earning himself the disapproving looks of everyone present but Sam. 

But that might as well be because her eyes weren’t visible. The goop had landed on her, covering her petite form from head to toe in the mysterious substance Danny prayed to anyone who might be listening wasn’t toxic. 

Panicking, he was by her side in the blink of an eye. He was trying to wipe the foam away with a napkin as he apologised profusely. “Oh, my God! I am so, so sorry, Sam. I promise, I’ll clean you up. Or, even better, I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning. Sorry. I’m sorry. I promise, my dad’s inventions aren’t usually harmful to humans; a little electric shock at most. I’m so sorry, Sam. Please, forgive me.”

Under the Fentons’ concerned gaze, Sam lowered her face slightly, enough so they could make even less of her expression. Then she began to shake, Danny was sure from rage, and make indistinguishable sounds. Just as everyone braced themselves for the worst, the Goth threw her head back and laughed so loudly she caught them all off guard for a second. She kept on cackling almost maniacally to the point she had to hug herself, holding her sides that were, most definitely, going to split open if she kept this up. 

A little unnerved by her behaviour, Danny could only ask, “Uh, Sam? Are you alright?”

“W-why...why w-wouldn’t...I-I be?” She replied with a question of her own as her laughter calmed down to giggles. 

“Um, not to be Captain Obvious here, but you just got covered from head to toe in goop…” Jazz pointed out uncertainly. 

“Oh, I know. Trust me, it’s fine.” The Goth said as she used her hands to wipe said goop from her eyes and face. She furrowed her brow in confusion when she finally noticed the family’s worried looks. “Uh...are you guys okay?”

“Oh! Yes, yes we are. It’s just...” Maddie began, unsure on how to address the subject herself, “ not many people react so positively to one of our inventions going awry.”

“Normally you’d have issued a restraining order against us already.” Jack explained so matter-of-factly it made the Goth girl wonder just how much time this family spent at court. 

“Yeah.” Danny agreed, still trying to help Sam clean up with his napkin. “Not even Tucker would’ve taken it so well.”

“I see. Well, what can I say?” She shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I guess I just can’t get mad when I find this so awesome.”

“You find this awesome?” Jazz parroted, incredulous. 

“Um, yeah. I told you; I love everything paranormal and, you gotta admit, this is the sorta thing that would go viral on YouTube.” 

“I...can’t argue with that logic.” Danny conceded. He still couldn’t believe it; Sam just got bathed in slime and her first reaction was laughing it off? Could this girl get any more incredible?

When she finally got to cleaning her hair free of foam, Sam had to do a double take as she slid her fingers through her hair. “Have you guys ever thought about selling this as a hair conditioner? Because, I kid you not, my hair’s never been this silky! I have a friend who would kill for something like this.”

“You have other friends besides Tucker and me?” The question left his mouth before he could even register it. Sam’s murderous glare made it obvious she didn’t appreciate the jab. 

Then, as if on cue, everyone broke down laughing. They all spend the rest of dinner chatting amicably and sharing storiesーJack and Maddie even began to ponder on the benefits of selling the new Fenton Foam as a conditioner, like Sam suggested! By the time they were done eating, the whole family gathered around their doorstep to bid their guest goodbye. Danny, Maddie, and Jazz hugged her (Sam still wasn’t used to physical contact due to her Goth indifference but this was nice), while Jack patted her in the back with such force it almost sent her falling down the stairs. 

The moment the door to FentonWorks was closed, his parents were already asking Danny when was the next time Sam would come visit, prompting him to groan in exasperation and Jazz to giggle at her brother’s embarrassment.