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wkemeup · 4 years

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Sunrise (2)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, hella nervous!bucky, dangerously sweet!y/n 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“What the hell do you mean ‘you’re not going’?”

Bucky shrugged, taking a bite of the bagel Steve picked up on his way to the apartment. He flinched as Steve flung open the curtains, expelling a cloud of dust as the sunlight invaded the living room, illuminating over months of untouched mail on the coffee table and crumbs in the carpet.

Sam kept his eyes burning on Bucky from the other end of the table. “You can’t back out now, Barnes. She’s expecting you!”

“What’s this about again?” Steve asked as he slid into the chair beside Bucky.

“Book club. Y/n. Barnes is being a coward again,” Sam explained a little too nonchalantly for Bucky's taste.

“I’m not being a coward,” Bucky grumbled, avoiding Sam’s eyes and very much proving his friend’s point. “I’ve just— I’ve got better things to do.”

He regretted it the moment it left his lips because both Sam and Steve exchanged a less than subtle, irritatingly familiar glance.

“Yeah, like what?” Steve scoffed. He extended his arms out to gesture to the empty apartment. “You got tons of plans this week? Think you might see sunlight again or did someone hang garlic in the hallway?”

“Shut up,” Bucky warned, rolling his eyes. It had been a few days since he’d ventured out to the VA for the first time and it was more than he’d done in weeks. It should have been enough for these two, but it never was. They always wanted more out of him. They couldn’t just leave him to rot in his apartment, could they?

“It’s Sunday, you know,” Sam said, devilish smirk rising on his face.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

“Come on, man!” Sam groaned, slamming his hand on the table enough to cause a ripple in the coffee mugs. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You can’t tell me seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go...”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed red. They burned hot on his skin and it only seemed to make it worse. He’d never been like this before he was discharged – flustered and easily embarrassed. He supposed before he came home with one less limb and baggage the size of his living room, he didn’t have much to be embarrassed about. He was a flirt, a bit shameless about it, too. He’d had girlfriends and hookups and never thought much about it.

But now? The vague idea of even presuming to be interested in a woman was borderline laughable. What chance could he possibly have? He was washed up and broken, missing a few pieces, and half off his rocker. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d go for a guy like him. It was easier to just pretend like he didn’t care, give into the empty void he believed his heart to be, and waste away.

“Seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go,” Bucky said flatly, much to Sam’s annoyance. It was a bold-faced lie, one all three of them were well aware of, but it didn’t mean Bucky needed to give them the satisfaction of admitting it.

He thought of you in that sunset red sweater, holding a book tight to your chest with that sort of bright starlight look in your eyes as you listened intently to a retired vet go on and on about his personal connection to some corny book. He’d only met you for maybe a span of a few minutes, and still, he could somehow still picture your smile. He wanted to see it again.

But there was a sharp pain in his left arm; it burned, enough for Bucky to reach across his chest and try to put pressure on it, only to slip through thin air and land against his ribs. The pain remained, like an extension of himself, on an arm that was no longer apart of him. There and not there all at once. He groaned.

“It’s not a good enough reason, Sam,” Bucky repeated. “I’m not going. She probably won’t even notice.”

Another lie.

Sam shook his head, the smile quickly leaving his face in favor of one Bucky knew all too well. Disappointment. Frustration. The thing was, it didn’t hurt as much when Bucky was purposeful in creating it.

“I thought you liked her?” Steve asked cautiously, eyes catching Sam’s for only a moment before he turned back to Bucky. They’d been talking about him. He hated when they did that.

“I don’t even know her, Steve,” Bucky shot back. He shouldn’t be getting angry with them. They were only trying to help. And yet here he was – pushing away the only two people left in his life that still managed to tolerate him. He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw, trying to push past it. “She’s nice, okay? She’s pretty. Is that what you want me to say?”

Steve sat back in his chair, exhausted. “I want you to be happy, Buck.”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, well, shoulda thought of that before I got myself blown up.”

“Bucky--”

“Let it go, man,” Sam sighed, setting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Bucky felt like he could sink straight into his chair. Why did he always do this?

“I hope you change your mind,” Sam said simply, gathering up his things as he and Steve started to make their way to the door. “It could be good for you.”

Bucky knew what he meant by that, the underlaying message hidden just beneath the surface: she could be good for you.

Right on cue, the pain started up again in his arm that was both there and not there, and Bucky tried to grit his teeth through it, though Sam could spot the tells almost immediately: his right-hand gripping to the arm rest, the flinch in his jaw, the short tense breaths.

Sam sighed, pausing in the door frame. “We’ll be back in a few days. Try to clean up the place, will you? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Ma said she’d bake you cobbler if you promise to eat it,” Steve offered, too hopeful for his own good. It had been Bucky’s favorite once; the sort of dessert he talked about on desert nights when the mess hall served day old meatloaf and bland potatoes. He didn’t have much of an appetite these days.

Bucky forced out a smile for his friend’s sake and nodded.

A familiar silence swept over the apartment as the door closed behind them. It had been a comfort once; a darkness that swept around his shoulders like a blanket. It kept him isolated and suffocated and still, safe.

Now, it mocked him.

He stared at the knob on the door, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. He’d done this about a dozen times before, trying to convince himself to do something more with his days than waste away in an expensive one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

Steve was right. What the hell else was he going to do today? Stare at the wall for a few hours? Pretend to watch TV and not catch a single word of dialogue? Make a meal he wouldn’t eat?

He thought of you again. How you might scan the room in search of him and a frown might pull at the corner of your lips to not find him amongst the crowd. He wondered if you’d be dressed in yellow or orange or if you’d resemble a cloudless sky as the sun touched over the peaks of the city in soft pinks and purples.

He wanted to know so badly it was killing him.

“Fuck.”

He dragged his feet to the bedroom to find something half decent to wear.

***

It had been a less than ideal start to your day.

The children’s reading presentation at the library got a little out of hand when the speaker – a local theater student – got caught up in the voices and scared half of the toddlers to tears as he took some interesting liberties with The Cat in the Hat.

Then, a rather unpleasant woman yelled at you for twenty minutes about a man sleeping on the bench outside the near the entrance as if it were a personal affront that this man, a little down on his luck, dared to catch a few minutes of sleep in a public place.

The internet was shotty all day, leaving a few college students red in the face and with fat tears matching those of the toddlers in the next room over when hours' worth of work had suddenly disappeared in front of their eyes.

And of course – the teenagers. A band of four boys who hid under the brim of baseball caps with skateboards tucked under their arms, who found it rather amusing to stalk out the adult section and flip through the sorts of novels with bare chested men on the cover until their snickering could be heard from the floor below.

It warranted a coffee, at least.

The only solace was that it was Sunday. Your favorite day of the week. It meant a few hours at the VA and catching up with the guys. You hadn’t seen Natasha in a while and you were hoping to see how her new job at the security firm had gone. She was exceptionally qualified and you were almost certain you had her interview answers memorized by the time you’d finished practicing together.

But there was something different about this Sunday, something that left a few butterflies in your stomach where an easy contentment usually belonged. You were nervous, but there was an excitement, too.

There’d be a new face in attendance.

A beautiful face.

A face that you imagined required a double take were you to see it for the first time on a busy street.

“You’re smiling again there, darling.”

You looked up to find Mrs. Jefferson keeping a careful eye on you from over the top of her reading glasses. She wore a smile upon her face, one that blended into the laugh lines by her eyes. Her hand trembled with a familiar quiver as she reached up and slid the glasses off her nose. They rested comfortably on a purple beaded chain as they hung around her neck.

“You always have so much going on inside that head of yours,” she quipped, chuckling to herself. She was a slow mover as she turned to the computer to begin typing in her code. “Have you checked out the books for the VA yet?”

“Already done,” you confirmed, your mind still a little in the clouds. Coffee would definitely need to be a requirement before you stepped foot in the VA.

“Get a move on then,” Mrs. Jefferson said, gesturing to the door with a trembling hand. “I know you like to get donuts for the kids.”

You still had a few minutes left on shift, but Mrs. Jefferson was always so understanding. She had a son who was in the military once who saw about four tours. Always had a habit of going back, she’d said, like he was testing his luck. You weren’t sure how he’d died, but you knew he didn’t have the chance to go back for a fifth.

She was a part of a group no one wanted to be in: those who have lost someone to war. Membership cost was steep and there was no going back once it was paid. It was a lonely group, one far too many people occupied. Your own membership card was heavy in your pocket.

You glanced toward the door. The sun was shining bright on the pavement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

She smiled. “Yes, of course, dear. Tell the boys I said hello.”

“Yes, ma’am!” you called as you gathered your things and the shoulder bag stuffed with books and quickly scurried out the door before another disaster could reel you back inside.

The sun was warm on your skin and you took a minute to savor it before shoulders started to bump into you, forcing you off balance. You could see your breath in the autumn air, and still, the sun touched your cheeks and left behind a comfort there. Smile on your face, heavy bag draped over your shoulder, you resided to grab coffee and donuts at a café close to the VA before book club started.

It was one you visited a few times before, right across the street from a painfully busy Starbucks. The quaint coffee shop was often empty inside, save for a few college students with headphones in, typing away at their laptops, and a regular you often saw nursing a black coffee by the front windows, watching the people as they walked by.

It smelled of coffee beans as you stepped inside. Fresh. Aromatic. You took in a deep breath.

“Ah, Y/n!” a voice called from the back in a thick Colombian accent. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Luciana,” you laughed as the woman who owned the shop rounded the corner behind the counter and ran out to give you a hug. She was a tiny woman, short and shout, but her hugs could render even a giant of a man to a puddle.

“Donuts for your friends down at the VA again?” she asked, releasing you from her embrace, though she still managed to pinch your cheek on the way out.

“Yes, please!”

“And coffee for yourself?”

She knew you too well.

“I could use a bit of a pick-me-up,” you admitted. She knew your order by heart.

“You should see if that Sam wants to have some good coffee for a change at his next event instead of the bean water he serves our veterans now,” Luciana inquired as she pulled on a pair of gloves and began to stack your box with assorted donuts. She had that smile on her face you recognized well. She asked about Sam a lot.

“I’ll be sure to get his thoughts,” you replied, trying to stifled a smile.

“Have him come by,” she offered rather smoothly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen his pretty face and I could use a little pick-me-up myself.”

She winked at you and set the box of donuts on the counter. Then, your coffee; lid pressed on top, cardboard around the edges to protect from heat. You reached for your wallet but she snuck her hand over the counter and grabbed your wrist.

“No, no, not today, my dear. My treat.”

You parted your lips to protest but she shook her again.

“Tell those kids to come visit me every once in a while, okay? I’ve got a discount for ‘em,” she offered, bright smile over painted red lips. She waved you off and you knew there was no arguing with her.

“That’s very kind of you, Luciana. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“So will my business, dear.” There was that wink again.

You laughed, heading for the door. “I’ll see you next week!”

The bell rang on your way out.

The VA wasn’t more than a few blocks from Luciana’s, but the bag piled high with books was starting to weigh on your shoulder. It didn’t help that you had to weave expertly between the pedestrians to balance your coffee and the donut box, too; tourists walking about 10 mph too slow and locals stuck in their path with no qualms of shoving you out of their way if you managed to jump in their trajectory.

As you approached the VA, the crowd began to disperse. There weren’t too many people who frequented this street as there was little more than the VA building itself to occupy the tourists. You were surprised to find a man standing in front of the doors, staring up at the building as if it offended him in some way.

Dark brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, just barely peeking out at the nape of his neck. Right hand tucked deep into his pocket, rigid in his stance as he stared down the double doors. He was talking to himself, you realized, judging by the soft clouds of chilled air by his mouth.

James Barnes.

Bucky.

A smile suddenly took over your face, enough that you had to bite down on the edge of your lip in an effort to suppress it. You’d hoped he would come, but Sam had talked about his friend Bucky long before you met him in the empty library of the VA a few days prior. He didn’t say ‘yes’ to much of anything and he seemed to be the sort of soldier that got left behind by the system when he returned home.

But he was sweet. You could tell that just from the small interaction you’d had. Quiet. A little flustered. Maybe reserved. But he had beautiful eyes; blue, like they could capture even the faintest colors in the sky and the sweep of a current in the Mediterranean. He’d only barely lifted the corner of his lips to a smile that day and it left you wondering how lovely he was when it touched his eyes.

“Bucky!” you called, moving a little quicker now as you approached, but he didn’t seem to hear you. Still focused on his staring match with the building, it seemed. For a moment, it seemed as though he might be turning to leave and your stomach twisted.

You were nearly at his side, a little out of breath when you called his name again and it registered this time. Only, it must have startled him because an arm jutted out in your direction, knocking the coffee from your hands. You were too stunned to do much of anything about it as they coffee flung itself to the pavement, the contents spilling to the ground and over your sneakers. You clutched the box of donuts tight to your chest.

Bucky froze, almost as still as a statue, his eyes focused on the coffee spilled on the sidewalk. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch and slowly, his eyes drew up to meet yours. He stared at you for a moment, mouth falling agape. His ears were burning red.

Then, he seemed to come back to reality as he blinked a few times, his eyes darting from the shock on your face to the coffee on the sidewalk.

“Y/n! Shit—fuck! I am—so sorry,” he started to ramble, his hand reaching out, though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “I didn’t realize you were-- fuck—”

“It’s alright, Bucky,” you tried to ease him, a laugh in your voice. “Don’t worry about it. Probably didn’t need the caffeine anyway.”

“I should, um,” he looked around desperately, scanning the street for the nearest coffee shop, his hand clenching and releasing at his side in a repetitive squeeze. It was really sort of sweet. “Let me buy you a new one.”

You smiled at him and he softened a bit. “That’s really not necessary.”

He gritted his teeth as you bent down to pick up the empty cup and shook the excess coffee off your shoes. They were old sneakers anyway and you were looking for a halfway decent excuse to get new ones. Then came a shy ex-soldier barreling in from the sky with a strong aversion to your coffee.

“I knew this was a bad idea...”

He was talking to himself, grumbling under his breath, and you realized why he was staring at the building for so long. You took a step closer to him, studying the way his chewed on the inside of his cheek and shoved his right hand into his pocket.

“Is it?” you asked.

Blue eyes flickered to yours, brows furrowed. He didn’t think you’d heard him. “Sorry?”

You just smiled at him, shaking your head. You’d been working at the VA long enough to recognize the man behind the soldier; one who’d been beaten and bruised and left to waste the second he was dropped back on American soil. Constantly beating himself up, constantly wondering if he was doing the wrong thing and struggling to be the version of himself he was before the war.

“So, James Barnes,” you grinned, “you decide if you’re coming in or not? It’s a little chilly out here. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Bucky stared back at you, unsure. But you could see the tension easing off his shoulders. His right hand was hanging back at his side again as his eyes flickered up to the doors again.

“Come on.” You smiled at him again and you noticed pretty quickly that he softened when you did that. It made your stomach flutter. You took a step forward, hoping he’d follow behind. “There’s shitty coffee inside we can share before book club starts.”

“I don’t even know what you’re reading,” he admitted, that sweet nervousness taking over again.

“You don’t need to,” you shrugged and his brow scrunched up again, confused. You glanced back at the doors. “Well, I’m going inside. I hope I see you there.”

With that, you turned and shouldered your way through the doors, donut box clutched tight to your chest. You waited by the entrance until you heard the soft grumble of a graveled voice outside, and then, footsteps as they approached the door.

You smiled.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes

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mrsmount16 · 3 years

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could write a MM imagine where him and the reader have only gone on a couple of dates then when the announcement of the first lockdown is made he asks the reader to isolate with him? Then I was thinking while they’re isolating they’re experiencing a few Firsts with each other (e.g., cooking together, sharing a bed, movie nights, cuddles and kisses etc).

I didn't know how to write this without being super long and boring so I was going to section it off but hopefully it still gives off the same energy then a normal write lmao, also thank you for the request and this is such a good idea 😩. I didn't really know what other firsts to do😕 I haven’t proof read this either, so it could make no sense at all and probably have spelling mistakes but pls just power through it 🤞🏼

Warning: None.

Lockdown was being announced and everyone was panicking, the news emphasised on the amount of food people were buying and how there was no loo roll left but also about how relationships weren't going to work out due to being locked in the houses for all this time without seeing your significant other or because you was seeing them too much.

You had only been on a couple of dates with Mason, but you both knew that you wanted to pursue something more personal and deep and not just mess around for the fun of it. Thats why when he asked you to isolate with him you didn't hesitate to say yes. Even though the news told you otherwise of how to feel you simply ignored and couldn't wait to spend as much time with him as possible, building up a true connection between you both and making your bond stronger.

Cuddling and kisses and sharing a bed.

You arrived earlier in the day and had already taken your things to the spare bedroom and now sat on his couch, him on the opposite side. You guys hadn't stopped talking throughout the whole movie that played and eventually when it ended you insisted that you bought a takeaway for the both of you.

He agreed and when the pizza arrived you both sat at the table and had a slice, talking endlessly about random things like 'why colours are named what they are' and 'how were humans created'. After about an hour, it was dark out and just turned 9pm.

"I'm gonna get comfy and ready for bed."

"Yeah, I'll meet you up there in a few." He smiled and kissed your cheek, grabbing the box and walking off outside.

It was pretty cold out so you pulled on a hoodie and joggers, and you removed your makeup and cleaned your face and teeth and sat on the bed in the free room on your phone.

He knocked on the door and peaked his head through the door frame at about 10.

"You coming?" He gestures to his room.

"Oh yeah, hold up." You smile watching him leave.

He lay on the bed on his phone, lighting up when he saw you enter.

"You don't have to stay in here if you don't want to." He stated, watching as you climbed into bed next to him.

"No, I want to." You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on the pillow.

"I want you to, too." He put an arm around your waist and finally rested down after turning the light off on the bedside table.

You were both submerged in complete darkness, a tranquil atmosphere surrounded you both, the duvet lazily spread across you and your faces faced each other. His eyes were closed, but you lightly leaned in and pecked his lips causing him to open his eyes.

"Goodnight." You said, looking up at him.

"Goodnight pretty." He smiled, kissing you again lightly and resting his head.

You fell asleep in his arms, totally engulfed with his care and serenity, it rubbed off onto you. This was the best sleep you ever had in ages, and you wanted to do it a lot more.

Cooking.

"Hey! Thats not where the flour goes." You retaliated at Mason putting the flour on your nose, a sneeze followed shortly after.

"Oh, my bad." He giggled, sticking the rest of the flour in the bowl.

"These are going to be the best cupcakes you have ever baked."You said, mixing all the ingredients with all the strength you had.

"Yeah? I reckon by myself I could cook some pretty good cupcakes. With no help of Course." He leaned against the counter, his apron said 'world best chef' and he was covered in all ingredients that you didn't even know had to be in the cupcakes.

"Well, we will see about that once you taste my cakes." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him and wiping a little bit of frosting on his cheek. "Got u back." You giggled.

He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to him so your front's were together.

"You look amazing cooking.." He cheekily smiled.

"Not too bad yourself." You kissed him, he deepened the kiss and ran his hand up your back, until you felt a hard crack on your head and then an ooze of a liquid go down your back, mason was laughing uncontrollably, holding his stomach and near enough rolling on the floor.

"Mason!" You shouted, shocked and holding your head, "Did you just egg me?" You laughed, grabbing the egg that was on you and smearing it all over him.

"Two can play that game!" You giggled, grabbing flower and eggs.

Fight and makeup.

"No, I just don't particularly like her. You told me about what she did, she's a bad influence." He argued back.

"Oh, so she's a bad influence? So you think I would do something like that?" You scoffed. Your friend invited you to go on a walk around the park, and you told Mason but when he heard your friends name he instantly scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. He had no care about it and sighed, telling you to just 'do what you wanna, your choice at the end of the day.'. You asked why he was being so moody and he replied that he doesn't like her, and you understood why but because he didn't like her didn't mean that you couldn't hang with her. You did tell him that she did cheat on her boyfriend and you completely disagreed with her actions too but now he was saying she was a 'bad influence' like you was going to be influenced by what she did and start following her actions like you was a child.

"Its only for a catch up Mase, I haven't seen her in like 3 weeks. I haven't been at work remember and ive been locked up here."

"Yes, but anyone but her. We could go. I't doesn't matter, just go. Ill see you when you get back." And then he stormed off up to his gaming room, releasing all his stress on his games.

After about 40 minutes, you realised he was right, it wasn't just the cheating but she just overall was a bad person and you shouldn't have been encouraging such gossip with her.

You entered his room and put your hands on his shoulders, he looked back at you and then carried on his game like you wasn't even there.

"I'm sorry Mase, you was right. I can surround myself with much better people, and I will."

He turned his chair around so he was facing you and grabbed your hips to sit you down on his lap.

"It's okay, and ill go on that walk with you. Let me just finish this game." He said, smiling lightly and giving you a kiss which you returned.

Go-to support.

It was about 2 months into lockdown and your work had been piling up. You was stressed and so not motivated to do anything, even getting up out of bed was hard.

This day was particularly a struggle. You had to finish a presentation and only had today to do it, so you panicked and speeded it, finishing it as quick as ou could without caring about the outcome and just sending it off.

You sat at the kitchen table with your face in your hands, thinking about all the possibilities, will you lose your job? Will you get demoted? You just couldn't stop your mind from wandering.

"Are you okay babe?" You heard Masons voice from behind you and felt a hand on your back soothing you.

You couldn't hold it in anymore and broke down, whimpering and wiping your eyes.

"Mason I need a break from work, its so stressful and I think with the work I just did I'm going to lose my job and im just not motivated to do anything and I-" you rambled on, until he cut you off.

"Hey, hey calm down," He crouched down and placed his hand on the side of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "Don't beat yourself up about it. It's happening to everyone now, im sure if we ask your work to give you some time for your mental health im sure they would let you." he smiled reassuringly.

"We?" You sniffed.

"Yeah, we. We're gonna get through this together. Now, it's always we." He stood up and hugged you tight.

Love and a movie night.

It's been about a 5 months now, and you and Mason had been going strong.

Mason insisted that you watch a movie tonight, sit down with some popcorn and snuggle up together. Of course you said yes.

About halfway in the movie, a conversation popped up about 'what would you do if you was a worm?' and you couldn't stop laughing, at both of your responses.

"Yeah, but I would definitely still love you if you was a worm." He joked, laughing with you.

You stopped almost instantly, looking over at him.

"What?" He looked over, confused.

"Did you just say that you love me?" You questioned, sitting up.

"You didn't hear? I love you." He smiled, chuckling.

you gasped, putting your hands over your mouth. He reached out and grabbed your face.

"I love you." He repeated, just for you to realise what he did, so you could know that it was real, to process the words.

"I love you." You stated, grinning from ear to ear.

#chelsea #chelsea football club #england squad #football #footballer #mase mount #champions league #chelsea fc #england #footballers #mason mount x og #mason mount x reader #mm21 #mason mount imagine #mason mount #euros 21 #euro 21 #euros 2020 #uefa euro 2020

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 3 years

Text

Irresistible Danger - Part 60

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,229

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: We’re back! Omg y’all...I finally have a path to the ending for this fic! After this chapter, I’m planning for there to be 5 more chapters until the end, which will give ID a total of 65 chapters. I’m still working on writing and editing these last chapters, but I’m pretty confident in that timeline :D I also plan to post each Friday again, so there should be chapters now through September 10th, if all goes according to plan.

PDA

You woke with a smile the next morning, partially because of the happiness filling your chest like a balloon. The other part was because the warm body behind you, accompanied by a rasp of beard on your shoulder and soft lips on your neck, signalled that you weren’t alone.

The florid orange rays coming in the large windows told you that it was still early, the sun barely risen above the horizon. Turning over onto your other side to face Negan, you took in his tousled hair and heavy-lidded gaze.

“Mornin’ doll,” he said, voice raspy with sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his irresistible mouth. “No crack-of-dawn meetings today?”

His lips quirked against yours. “Nope, thank fuck,” he murmured, before rolling atop you and spending a good portion of the morning taking you apart with pleasure, then putting you back together piece by piece with cuddles and toe-curling kisses.

When he later glanced over at the clock and saw that it was almost 10am, he gave a groan and flopped onto his back with a forearm covering his eyes. “Much as I’d love to stay here all day, I gotta go with a couple Saviors to check out one of the nearby outposts. They reported some concerns about their fucking security measures, and also requested a few more men be stationed out there to help divvy up their shifts, so I wanna go see if there’s any fucking issues for myself.”

While you felt a tiny thrill that he was so willing to tell you this information, to let you know about his duties as leader, you also had a moment of worry about him possibly assigning more men out to work the outpost. “Is that the one you brought Simon in from a couple weeks ago?”

Knowing exactly where your thoughts were headed, he said, “Don’t get your fucking panties in a bunch, doll. If the outpost needs more hands, I was planning to send a couple of my newer Saviors.”

Pleased at this response, you smiled and leaned in close so your mouth was hovering mere millimeters from his, before whispering, “I’m not wearing any panties to get in a bunch.”

Before he could react, you rolled out of the bed and strode to the bathroom, putting a little extra swing to your hips. The growl and unmistakable rustling sound of sheets being thrown off was your only warning before Negan scooped you up into his arms and marched into the bathroom.

An hour later and you were both sufficiently clean (after first getting extra dirty against the shower wall), and you saw Negan off from his rooms with a kiss and warning to be careful. He gave an arrogant smirk at that, which got him an eye roll and playful shake of your head as a response.

You watched as he strode down the hall towards the staircase, shoulders encased in leather and his whistle echoing off the walls. While they’d never dare ask him about it, you couldn’t help but give a little smile at the thought of his men wondering why the hell their usually punctual leader was almost ten minutes late to leave for the outpost...and why he seemed so happy about it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Unable to contain your excitement over the events of the night before, you headed over to Ben’s room not long after Negan left. Thankfully he was there, having just returned from finishing up serving breakfast. His roommate was out this time, so you were able to huddle across from one another on his bottom bunk and catch him up on your conversation with Negan.

Ben listened intently, mouth slowly falling further and further open as you went on. When you got to the part about Negan admitting he wanted only you, and called you his partner, Ben let out a whoop of joy and threw his arms around you in a hug.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed. ��That big lug is head over heels for you.”

The two of you chatted happily for a bit, before you left and wandered back down to your own room. It had felt like forever since you had a chunk of time to just relax in your bed without over analyzing or stressing over something Negan-related. Gone was the weight of that padlocked box of questions, which made both your brain and subconscious very happy. The three of you snuggled up on the bed and spent the next couple of hours finishing your re-read of Harry Potter before it was time to head down to the kitchen for dinner prep.

Today’s menu consisted of lasagna using leftover deer meat thawed from the freezer, with the signature side of rolls. Trixie had unofficially promoted herself as being in charge of roll duty, making sure the dough was the right consistency and the ovens at the perfect baking temperature. She wasn’t rude about it, but the little bit of authority she showed when instructing another staff member how to properly knead the dough seemed to fulfill her need to be seen as a knowledgeable and important part of the staff. And in all honesty, none of her feedback to the others was incorrect, so rather than reprimand her or say she was out of line, you had caught her eye at one point and given an almost imperceptible nod of approval. This caused her smile to beam so bright that it was a wonder you didn’t need sunglasses.

As it turned out, you weren’t the only one who had noticed Trixie’s presence and been keeping a stealthy eye on her. Andrew, a member of the food prep crew, had been not-so-subtly following Trixie with his gaze lately, and today was no exception. He was an attractive man in his early 20s with shoulder-length black hair and kind brown eyes, a much more appropriate candidate for Trixie than her previous choice.

It seemed safe to say that Trixie was aware of the attention as well, as she found every reason possible to flounce past where Andrew was busy loading trays of lasagna into an oven. At one point, she even stopped to chat briefly with him, and out of the corner of your eye you saw her toss back her head and laugh at something he said. If it seemed a bit overly dramatic to you, well, Andrew didn’t seem to mind. In fact, her reaction caused him to fumble with the tray of pasta he was holding, almost spilling the entire thing onto the ground. He thankfully saved it at the last second, otherwise you would’ve had to interrupt and lecture the two of them about focusing on their work and not chit-chatting. And you didn’t want to do that, not when Trixie finally seemed interested in a guy more her age who was actually available and seemed to genuinely like her.

Despite your initial tension with Trixie, you now realized that she had just been struggling to find where she fit in, to feel like an important part of the community. She’d initially been scooped up and led astray by Amber, but thankfully she had found her way back on the correct path and was making progress at getting along with the others, rather than isolating herself and using condescension as an emotional wall. Someone like Andrew, who was kind-hearted and considerate, not to mention absolutely captivated by her, was exactly what she needed.

Focusing your attention away from young romance and back to meal prep, you spent the next forty-five minutes making sure everything was baked to perfection before sending out the first trays of lasagna and rolls. However, your mind kept randomly returning to Negan, almost unable to contain a secret smile each time you remembered where the two of you now stood. The usual worry and second-guessing had been replaced by the stability of knowing how he felt, and each time you remembered his words from last night a flutter of butterflies went off in your stomach.

Negan had told you this morning that the outpost he and a small team of men were going to was less than an hour’s drive from the Sanctuary, so he planned to be back around dinnertime. Sure enough, about 20 minutes into when the first round of food was being served, you saw a small group of Saviors enter the cafeteria and settle down at a table. You guessed that they were the ones who had been out on the mini mission, and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing them back safely and with jovial expressions on their faces. You could always tell when things went wrong on a run, due to the overall aura of the men who returned, but this time they were smiling and talking animatedly with one another. Hopefully this also meant that Negan was in a happy, and perhaps affectionate, mood when you went to visit him later...

It was as if your thoughts had conjured the man himself. You were out in the cafeteria with a large water pitcher, making rounds to refill empty glasses for people, when a hush in conversation made you still and look up.

And there he was, standing at the entrance to the cafeteria with his signature leather jacket unzipped just enough so that the edge of a white tee peeked out over the top. He scanned over the tables like a king surveying his domain, looking both intimidating and absolutely delicious with the arrogant way he held himself, as if he had no cares in the world but was also ready to take on anything.

When his eyes landed on you, those sinful lips quirked upwards at the edges, and you swore that even from the distance of half a cafeteria you could see his golden gaze light up at the sight of you. He moved, striding with determination and purpose to close the space between your bodies. The breath caught in your chest at his beauty, at the raw masculinity and almost animal magnetism that surrounded him.

He stopped mere inches away, and you gazed up at him in both welcome and a bit of confusion. Trying to act calm and unaffected, and not show how much you wanted to grin and launch yourself at him, you said, “Welcome back.”

Your eyebrow cocked in question when he shook his head with a low chuckle. “Oh no, doll, that won’t do at all.” And with that, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lowered his head...

And kissed you in front of the entire Sanctuary.

A wave of shock jolted through you, at the same time as your body automatically responded, molding itself to his. Your brain was flatlined on the floor from the unexpected move, while your subconscious ran around it in circles screaming with excitement.

You could practically feel all the astonished stares from community members, as they watched their all-powerful leader break one of his cardinal rules and kiss you to within an inch of your life. And dear god, what a kiss it was! His lips were firm yet gentle, his tongue just barely tracing your bottom lip, as if he couldn’t help but steal a little taste. He wasn’t holding back, and the primal part of you recognized that he was publicly staking his claim for all to see. There could be no question after this moment that you were his, and that he wanted everyone to know it.

When he finally pulled back, you could only look up at him with what must’ve been an utterly dazed expression, if his pleased smirk was anything to go by. Glancing to his left and then right, his brow furrowed and expression turned serious as he bellowed, “What the fuck are you all looking at?”

His words had the desired effect, as eyes dropped back to their plates and the community stuttered back to action, obviously trying and failing to act like something monumental didn’t just happen. You’d have given a lot of points to know what they were all thinking, but you didn’t see any angry expressionsand no one had said anything or acted out of line, so hopefully that was a good sign.

Negan’s warm hand rubbed comfortingly up your bare arm, and it was then that you noticed he didn’t have his gloves on. That also sparked the realization that he wasn’t carrying Lucille, which was strange since he always had her on his person when making an appearance in front of the community.

Now that you’re thinking about it, did he even have her this morning, when he left?

You thought back to when you had kissed him goodbye and watched as he walked down the hallway. Surely he’d have taken her with him to the outpost...but you honestly couldn’t remember seeing her up over his shoulder. You had to just be forgetting, because there was no way he’d leave her behind.

That train of thought was brought to a halt when the hand on your arm trailed down along your waist and settled possessively on your hip. “I wanted to put in a request for one of your staff members to bring two servings of dinner to my room, for Simon and yours truly.”

Before you could ask if he needed time alone once you were done with dinner, he provided the answer. “We need to go over the fucking outpost inspection results, but I’ll come and find you once it’s done.” It was the second time he’d done that today, answering a question before you had the chance to voice it out loud, which was a sign of how well he was coming to predict your thought process.

You were still a bit in shock at all of this, especially how he was discussing his evening plan with you so publicly and audibly, as if to show that you were more than just his in a physical sense. He was broadcasting to the community that you were what he had already told you last night: his partner. His voice had been low enough that only the nearby tables would’ve heard, but you knew every moment of this interaction would be spread across the entire community within minutes after he left.

Giving a smile and trying to look like ‘yep, this is completely normal, no big deal, I am totally not internally screaming with joy and wanting to climb his fine ass like a tree’, you replied, “Of course. I’ll have it sent up immediately.”

“Thanks, doll,” he said with a final smirk. Then his face morphed back into the intense, badass expression of the Sanctuary’s leader, and he strode out of the cafeteria.

You were left standing there, still a bit shell-shocked by what had just occurred, but also giddy as hell over it. That emotional high was only slightly dimmed by the awareness that now, with Negan gone, you were the sole center of everyone’s attention. A quick scan of the cafeteria showed that most community members were trying not to openly stare. However, the lack of chewing and frequent side glances thrown your way as your legs finally unfroze and started back towards the kitchen were proof that they had all seen Negan’s display of affection.

While the rest of the community might’ve at least been making a feeble attempt not to obviously stare, the same couldn’t be said of the kitchen staff. At least a couple of them must’ve witnessed what happened when serving trays of food, and those members must’ve scurried back to the kitchen to report it to the others. Every single one of them was staring in wide-eyed silence with a mixture of shock and fascinated curiosity when you walked back through the swinging doors.

Even though your face felt heated and you were a bit off-kilter, you still managed to sound slightly firm when announcing, “Alright folks, back to work. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when they didn’t argue, but a couple of them did give knowing grins, Trixie included, though at least they all seemed good-natured about it. Trying to act as though your world hadn’t just been spun off its axis with that public kiss, you went over to Ben, who was the only one that had stayed fairly composed the entire time. In fact, his eyes danced with mirth and he was obviously trying to hold back a smirk, so you felt only minimally evil when telling him of Negan’s request that two servings of dinner be taken up to his rooms for him and Simon. Ben gave a playful glare when you told him to take up the food himself, saying it loud enough that some others heard, making him unable to say no without looking a bit suspect.

When the tray was ready to go a few minutes later, you quietly murmured to Ben as he passed by on his way out of the kitchen, “Say hi to Simon for me.” The words caused a hint of pink to flare in his cheeks as he gave a halfhearted glare. You almost felt guilty for teasing him, but knew Ben would more than forgive you when Negan came through on his promise to get Simon his own room.

Though the kitchen staff still threw glances your way here and there, they quickly fell back into their usual routine and no one made any direct comments. You were safe from scrutiny...at least for now. At least no one seemed to have any extreme concerns about what had happened, making you wonder how many of them had suspected what was going on between you and Negan before now.

Once dinner and cleanup were over, you headed back up to your room. Negan had said he would come find you when he was ready, so you planned to just lay back and relax until then.

Oh, who were you kidding. After that kiss, you were totally going to sit on your bed and think about all the dirty things you wanted to do to him the moment the two of you were alone.

Trying to convince yourself that you could be at least semi-productive and pretend to have a hobby other than fantasizing about the leader of the Sanctuary, you pulled the copy of Harry Potter off your bedside table. You were just opening to the first page, planning to restart it again from the beginning, when a firm knock sounded at your door.

Pulse jumping with excitement, you rose from the bed and didn’t even hesitate to cross the room and reach for the doorknob. It never occurred to you that it might be anyone other than Negan, let alone for it to be the last person you’d have ever expected to see at your door. But things had been going so well today that it was almost as if fate was bored with your happiness and wanted to add some drama to the mix.

Totally ignoring the warning prickle that ran up your spine, you opened the door with a welcome smile. It quickly died on your lips at the sight of who was standing on the other side, hands on hips and eyes throwing daggers your way.

It was Amber...and she looked pissed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#negan #ash writes #negan's thirst squad #irresistible danger #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan x you #negan x oc #negan x reader #fanfiction #fanfics #twd #the walking dead #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #twd negan #negan slow burn

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Hello!,if you don't mind, could i request Prompt no 120. With Ronald? 😳😳 Thank you!

Clingy baby.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, clinginess, possessiveness, manipulation

Prompt 120: “Jealous! Jealous! Jealous! Mine! Mine! Mine”

You must have looked quite pitiful right now. You guessed so at least from the way people kept glancing at you, eying you with those eyes that told you that they felt sorry for you. It didn’t really help you right now, instead it only led you to feeling more and more embarrassed and abandoned. And from the way you hunched over, trying to hide yourself from their gazes which only led to them staring more at you, you knew the pressure and discomfort was getting to you.

He hadn’t come. It was not the first time, he was a busy man. But it was the first time he had let you waiting for so long without making his abrupt appearance. He would need a very good excuse for this one, letting you sit and wait for him in this damn bar like a complete fool.

A short glance at your pocket watch told you that he had been already for nearly an hour too late which made you wonder what the heck had him that occupied to come that late. Or had he simply forgotten that he was supposed to meet you today? That would really make you feel stupid and like you weren't that important to him which was why you hoped that this wasn't the case. Or else one whole hour you had sat here for nothing.

For a short moment you listened to the people around you, to all the lulling, laughing and the music in this place. People making toasts, talking and joking together, getting drunk and flirting with each other. The atmosphere around you was so happy and carefree. You clearly didn't fit in right now, an outsider with a gloomy heart watching longingly from far away. You didn't think you could be able to mix in, not when everyone was aware that you had been rejected and waited for still nearly a whole hour.

You drowned the sigh that was crawling up your lips with a huge gulp of the drinking glass in front of you, alongside with your tears of frustration and irritation. You hadn't drunken too much, your tolerance for alcohol was pretty good and so the three drinks shouldn't affect you too much. You slammed the pot angrily down, the burning feeling of the liquid in your throats starting to cause you to feel rather pissed than hurt. That damn bastard would have to do some good explanation or otherwise you would guarantee to give him your own handmade hell.

Without a further word you stood up, wiping your wet lips with your sleeve and throwing some money on the counter. Maybe the man behind the bar wanted to say something, but he quickly shut his mouth when seeing your grim expression, only quickly wishing you a pleasant night which made you scoff. You simply grabbed your coat and stomped quickly out of this place, throwing everyone who seemed to want to speak with you a silent and warning glare that it would be better to leave you alone right now.

But the true thing that had you nearly going berserk was that as soon as you had rushed outside, taking notice of the dark clouds in the sky and the rumbling of the thunder, only shortly after you felt the first raindrop hitting you. Followed by another. And another. And one after that. And shortly after it was pouring buckets out of the sky, leaving you in only a short time completely drenched. You hadn't taken an umbrella with you, you had simply forgotten it because you had feared that you would come to late. Now look where you were.

"I should have just stayed at home snuggled up in my bed.", you thought darkly, pulling the collar of your long coat a bit higher to get a bit protection. Right now you really thought about cursing out loud and letting all of your frustration out, but if someone would hear you they would probably think off you as a drunk creep and you didn't want to make yourself appear even more of a fool. You had enough embarrassement for this day. You didn't need more.

"Stupid Ronald.", you cussed silently, starting to run to reach your house faster and to save this rather unlucky day of yours. And if you were lucky, you wouldn't catch a cold and be able to go to work tomorrow perfectly normal as if nothing had ever happened. Yes, that sounded good. Just forgetting about that guy and making yourself a cozy night. And if he would dare to show up, you would strangle him.

"Hey there! You, please wait up!"

Who the heck would be outside whilst it felt like the whole ocean was pouring down from th sky? You naturally assumed that the guy had to mean you since there was not a single soul outside except you. You felt slightly confused when you turned around, being met with a man around your age running behind you, holding an umbrella in his hand. Wait. Wasn't that one of the people in the bar? Why was he following you?

As nice as this act of his might have been, having ran after you to shield you with his umbrella from the rain, you were really in a salty mood right now.

"What do you want? I'm not made of sugar, you know? I can handle this rain without the help of a wanna-be-gentle-man.. If you want to pity on me, just crawl back to the place you've come from.", you replied in a meant-to-be-mean voice, giving him a grim look that obviously surprised and shocked him, staring confused down at you. Such rudeness had he probably not seen coming, especially from someone who had been ditched and was soaked from top to the bottom with the rain.

And maybe you had been expecting him to leave after this, hoping to have signaled him that you wanted to be left alone and just go home, throwing yourself in your bed and forget this shitty evening. You had for that moment lost the belief in kindness and understanding of living beings for others. That was exactly the reason why you got flustered when he instead of being offended and insulting you back, he just gave you a smile and scratched his head a bit.

"I don't think that would be a good idea. I noticed that you have no umbrella with you and when the storm started, I simply got worried. It's also pretty late and whilst I see the chance of someone with bad intentions being now outside, I still thought it would be wiser to accompany you a bit until you're brought home."

You gave him the raised-eyebrow-look, not completely buying his reason. You guessed he might just be a very friendly person, but that was not enough of a reason to let him do as he planned. "I appreciate the help, but I can handle myself just fine. Thank you for caring though. In that area you're better than a certain someone.", you grumbled out, pushing him a bit away and enduring the never-ending rain once again.

"I know how this feels."

This made you stop, glancing behind you at the guy whose smile looked by now a bit forced, recalling a memory he didn't like to think about.

"Excuse you?"

"You've been waiting for someone in the bar, haven't you? The way you've constantly been staring at your pocket watch, the entrance and the way you've looked sadder and sadder. I know that feeling as well, it's quite disappointing, having your high expectations crushed just like this whilst everyone around you doesn't really care. Makes you feel like you want to yell all of your frustration out and to punch the air. I guess I just wanted to...try to help you and be a bit there for you. I know I'm just a stranger, but maybe I can still help."

His short speech managed to dumbfound you a bit, for someone who looked like a small troublemaker he was quite the decent guy. "So he's been left waiting before as well, hmm?"

Your anger was quickly vanishing, sympathy starting to bubble up in your stomach for the man who still looked like he was upset about it.

"How long have you known the girl before...you know?", you asked, careful to not trigger him. "A few months. She was really cute and kind and I really thought that we got along very well. But apparently I was wrong. She left me for another one. I hope that in your case it is just a misunderstanding, but it still weights quite heavily, especially when they were the one who planned it in the first place. It makes you feel like an idiot."

He knew indeed how you felt currently, giving you a sudden temptation to tell him a bit about yourself. He didn't look like someone dangerous. He himself had seemed pretty isolated from the rest of the people in the bar, maybe because he had been rejected in there as well. This bar was definitely not a good place for couples, was it?

"If you don't want me to do this I'll leave. You just looked so sad, I thought that maybe a bit company would feel good. You don't have to talk or anything like this."

"It's fine. Having someone to talk too right now does sound nice. Better than getting caught in thoughts of how to kill my boyfriend for not coming to our date like this."

That guy, Simon was his name, turned out to be quite the fun guy to be with. Both of you got along surprisingly well, even though you intended to keep it in a platonic way. Talking to him helped you calming a bit down and you knew that you still loved Ronald and had to let him explain himself later on. But only after you had forgiven him completely.

Who knew, maybe you would run one day into that guy again. But you definitely felt grateful when he escorted you home, said his goodbye and left you afterwards, mentioning before that that he believed that your boyfriend had to have some sort of accident since no one would just ditch someone like you without a good reason. He was nice and you actually ended up wanting to punch the girl who had rejected him for someone else.

“Well, this day was not as terrible after all. I just want to go to bed and sleep now. I’ll pass on the bath.”, you decided, stretching yourself and letting out a yawn whilst putting your cloak somewhere where the fabric could dry.

The storm was still going on, thunder and lightning interrupting the silence every once in a while and you hoped that your new friend would arrive safely. He had mentioned that he lived not too far away though, so maybe he merely needed a few minutes.

No way that someone would be still out in this unbearable weather, right?

So the sudden knocking on your door, persistent and loud, startled you a lot more than you would want to admit later on, every once in a while being covered by the growling of the sky.

“(y/n)! Please open the door! I have to talk to you!”

That voice…No way! You could have hesitated for much longer whether to let him in or not, but when a sudden hit of the wind whipped raindrops against your windows and you realized that Ronald was still standing outside, you decided to show mercy. You had gone through this storm as well.

That did not mean that you harbored salty feelings inside of you when you turned the doorknob around, planning to lecture him the moment you would see his face.

However, the first word you had planned to spit out got stuck in your throat when you saw the condition he was in. Well, the fact that he was completely wet was no real surprise to you, your hair was still dripping as well and even your clothes under the cloak had not been unharmed. But he looked like he had gotten in some sort of fight looking at his torn clothes and you could see a bruise on his face.

“Ronald! What happened to you?!”

You quickly checked for any blood, but luckily didn’t find anything except the blood on his face, helping you to feel relaxed a bit. He had no serious injuries except a few bruises here and there, but this was more than enough to make all of your anger fade away. Suddenly you had a pretty solid idea to why he had been so late, remembering the stories you had been told about street gangs targeting persons alone and beating them for money and whatever they might have with them.

You attempted to support him with your body, but he just quickly walked inside, slamming the door closed behind him and leaning against the wood. The look on his face was…hard to describe, but you definitely knew that it gave you an eerie vibe.

“You surely seemed to have fun with that guy.”

Apathetic. He sounded incredible apathetic in that moment, looking with exhausted eyes at you, betrayal swimming in them. Originally you would have yelled at him that he had come too late, but how could you after having seen him in such a condition?

“Ronald…He just walked me home because I had nothing to shield me with from this rain.”, you said weakly in your defence, guilt consuming you for ever having doubted him like this.

“I know that. I know that I must have made you think I forgot when I came so late. I got caught up in some troubles whilst finishing my work. I hate doing overwork and just today I wanted to finish quickly. Still though…Couldn’t you have just waited in the bar until the storm was over? I had to rush the whole way from there to your house after being told that you left and one of the guys from the bar followed you.”

You really didn’t know how to reply. Had he seriously thought that you would wait that long for him? Was he that confident in you? It was either really arrogant of him to think that or he really just trusted you sincerely that much. And since you felt currently terrible, the latter on got the better of you which made you indeed feel like the culprit. If you would have waited just a bit longer…

“Are you mad with me?”

“No! How could I? I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt.”, you protested fiercely, feeling a familiar stinging in your eyes.

“Good to hear. I was quite worried when I caught a glimpse of you with that other guy since you looked like he had just made your day a better one. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, he only helped you. But still…”

When he suddenly latched onto you, pressing his wet body against your own and causing you to worry that he would hurt himself like this, you quickly noticed that he really was worn out now, leaning his weight against yours for a bit support.

“Jealous! Jealous! Jealous! Mine! Mine! Mine!”

It made you almost laugh when hearing him chanting those words if it wouldn’t have been for this rather messed up scenario and that he didn’t sound like his usual self, much more distraught which made you wonder if this was really only because why he had seen you with your new fellow or because of what had happened to him. But one thing was clear. You wouldn’t doubt him like this again.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ronald #yandere ronald knox

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bechloeislegit · 3 years

Text

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 6

Neighbors AU

"Hold the elevator," a voice called out.

Beca recognized the voice and gave a small smile as she stuck her hand against the elevator door to keep it from closing.

"Thanks," the owner of the voice said without looking at Beca. She was on the phone and continued her conversation, ignoring Beca as she did so.

"Please, Brey! You have to do it."

Beca stood back watching her neighbor, Chloe, as the elevator began moving. Beca held her phone up and pretended to scroll through it as she eavesdropped on the redhead's call.

"It's just for one week," Chloe said into the phone.

Beca chanced a quick glance at her elevator riding companion and noticed she was fumbling with folders and files as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

Chloe Beale, age about 26 Beca would guess, moved in next door to Beca about six months ago. Beca thinks Chloe is hot with her red hair, cerulean blue eyes, and a killer body. It was obvious the woman took care of herself.

Beca had introduced herself shortly after Chloe moved in, but Chloe hasn't really shown any interest in anything other than the usual courtesy greeting in the hallway or elevator.

Beca has noticed a lot of people leaving Chloe's apartment over the last six months; usually early in the morning, and none more than once that Beca can recall. Beca was done with one-night stands and meaningless hookups and was looking for something long-lasting and permanent. She thought about asking Chloe out but didn't want to be another one-and-done to Chloe.

"But, everything will be paid for," Chloe said, causing Beca to snap out of her Chloe-induced thoughts.

The elevator reached their floor and Beca waited for Chloe to exit before she did. She smiled as she watched Chloe walk away. I mean, why wouldn't she? Chloe looked just as good walking away as she did coming toward you, and Beca did not mind the view at all.

"I'll even pay for your time if you go," Beca heard Chloe say. Beca shook her head and reached into her bag to pull out her keys. Chloe laughed as she said, "No, not like a hooker. I wouldn't expect sex from you."

Beca gave Chloe a nod as she walked past her to get to her apartment. As Beca stepped over the threshold of her apartment, she looked back and noticed some papers on the floor outside Chloe's already closed door. Beca figured the redhead hadn't noticed them fall. Beca dropped her bag inside her apartment before closing her door and walking over to Chloe's door. She squatted down to pick up the papers.

Once Beca gathered all the papers, she stood and sorted the pages a bit so they were in a neat bundle in her hand. She glanced down at them and they looked like test papers.

"Chloe's a teacher?" Beca mumbled, furrowing her brow.

The apartments they live in cost quite a bit and Beca is surprised. If Chloe is a teacher, how can she afford this place?

Beca shrugged her shoulders and lightly knocked on the door. After a moment, a barefoot Chloe answered.

"Oh," Chloe said, surprised to see Beca standing there. "Um, Beca, right?"

"Yeah. You, um, you dropped these," Beca said as she handed the papers to Chloe.

"Oh, thank you," Chloe said as she took the papers. "That was nice of you."

"Just being neighborly," Beca said with a smile. "Have a good evening."

Beca turned to walk back to her apartment when Chloe stopped her. "Wait!"

Beca turned back and looked at Chloe with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you like to come in for a drink?" Chloe asked.

"Um," Beca said.

"I wanted to apologize," Chloe said, causing Beca's eyebrows to raise in surprise. "I know I haven't been very neighborly and I'm sorry about that."

"Okay, sure," Beca said. "A drink would be nice."

Chloe moved aside to allow Beca to enter. Beca looked around and noticed that Chloe's layout was much the same as hers.

"Come to the kitchen," Chloe said. "Is beer okay?."

"Beer's fine," Beca said and followed Chloe.

"Have a seat," Chloe told Beca, indicating the stools at the counter.

Beca sat and watched as Chloe opened the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. She walked over and sat at the counter across from Beca; she handed Beca a beer.

"I do want to apologize for being so standoffish," Chloe said.

"Um, it's okay," Beca said. "Really."

"No, it's not," Chloe said. "I moved here to get away from my mother. Sad I know, but it's the truth. It gets kind of lonely and you seem like someone I could be friends with, and it would be nice to have at least one friend here."

Beca thought about making a comment about the many "friends" she'd seen leaving Chloe's apartment but thought better of it.

"Do you want to talk about why you had to get away from your mother?" Beca asked as she sipped her beer. "I mean, I get it. I moved mostly to be as far away from my dad as I could. It might make you feel better to talk about it."

"That's a story for another time," Chloe said with a laugh. She took a drink of her beer and looked at Beca. "So, what do you do?"

"I, um, I'm a songwriter and music producer," Beca said.

"That sounds-" Chloe stopped and took a good look at Beca. Her eyes widened and she squealed. "O-M-acaG! You're Beca Mitchell! I've lived next door to you for six months and can't believe I didn't recognize you. I love your music. And that song you wrote with P!nk is one of my favorites."

"Um, thanks," Beca said. "And, what the hell is O-M-acaG?"

Chloe let out a loud laugh. "Sorry. I was in an acapella group in college and Aubrey, my best friend, used to put aca in front of everything. I would tease her about it and then find myself doing it as well."

"Wow," Beca said. "Of all the things I could have imagined, you being in an acapella group was not even a consideration. I mean, it's kind of lame."

"It is not lame," Chloe said, her jaw dropping. "We were the tits and went to the ICCAs our Junior Year."

"What are the ICCAs?"

"It's the National Championships for Collegiate a cappella," Chloe said.

"Ah," Beca said. "So, you went. But, did you win?"

"No, but that doesn't make it lame," Chloe said, taking a sip of her beer and sitting it on the counter. "Let me show you something."

Chloe stood and grabbed her laptop from her desk, returning to sit exceedingly close to Beca at the counter.

"Well, hello," Beca said with a grin, eyeing how close to her Chloe was sitting.

Chloe smirked and opened her laptop. She logged in and clicked on a few things.

"This is our first performance Senior Year," Chloe said before hitting play.

Beca looked toward the computer screen and grimaced slightly. She glanced at Chloe and said, "Did you just get out of flight attendant's school?"

"Hush," Chloe said with a laugh. "Those were our costumes."

"You mean you wore them on purpose?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe wide-eyed.

"It was tradition to wear them," Chloe said with a shrug. "Plus, Aubrey liked them and she was the Captain, so that was that."

Beca nodded her head and listened to the performance. When it was done, Chloe hit pause and looked at Beca.

"It was, um, pretty good," Beca said. "But, your song choice was a bit dated don't you think?"

"I agree with you," Chloe said. "But Aubrey had something to prove so she used the same set we had used the year before."

"Why?" Beca asked, truly curious why they didn't go for something more modern and different.

"Here, I'll show you why," Chloe said and clicked on another video. "This is our ICCAs performance Junior Year."

Chloe hit play and Beca watched.

"Holy shit!" Beca cried out when Aubrey started vomiting. "Oh, my God, that's disgusting."

Chloe stopped the video and looked at Beca. She couldn't help the laugh that came out upon seeing Beca's shocked face.

"How did the rest of your Senior Year go?" Beca asked, closing the laptop so she didn't have to stare at the frozen picture of Aubrey vomiting. It was just gross.

"We made it to Regionals but that was it," Chloe said. "Aubrey was pushing us to the point no one wanted to be a Barden Bella. We were Seniors but the other girls were Freshmen. No one wanted to continue in the group so they disbanded when we graduated."

"That's too bad," Beca said. "You had some really good voices. Especially yours. With the right set, you girls could have won."

"How do you know which voice was mine?" Chloe asked.

"It's my job to know these things," Beca said. "I have to be able to pick out each voice in a group and isolate it. That way, if someone is off-key or hits the wrong note, I know immediately who it is."

"Wow," Chloe said.

Beca went to speak but stopped when her phone pinged indicating a new text had come in. She pulled out her phone and checked the message.

"Oh, shoot," Beca said. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm supposed to meet up with a few friends."

"Oh, that's fine," Chloe said. "I enjoyed talking with you and maybe we can do this again sometime. Or, maybe you'll let me take you out to dinner and we can talk some more."

"I enjoyed talking to you, too," Beca said as she started walking to the door. "As for dinner, can I get back to you on that?"

"Sure," Chloe said as she walked with Beca and held the door for her. Chloe watched as Beca went to her apartment.

"Don't forget to let me know about that dinner date," Chloe said.

"I won't forget," Beca said, giving Chloe a little wave before entering her apartment.

~ BeChloe Week 2021 - Day 6 ~

Later that night, Beca was sitting in her favorite bar with her friends Jessica and Emily. She had told them about finally talking to Chloe and how Chloe had asked her out to dinner.

"So, are you going to go out with her?" Jessica asked.

"I, um, I don't know," Beca said. "I mean, I want to, but all I can think about is all the one-nighters I've seen leaving her apartment. I've done the one-and-done thing. I'm looking for someone who wants to be in a relationship."

"I say go for it," Emily said. "Maybe she'll like you enough to get on the same page as you. I mean look at Stacie; she slept with whoever she wanted and even had a baby out of wedlock. Along comes Jesse and now she's happily married with another kid on the way."

"I think those two are the exception, not the rule," Beca said.

"I'm with Emily," Jessica said. "I think you should go for it. Worst case scenario, you get laid by a gorgeous redhead. Best case, she's looking for a real relationship, too, and you two end up together."

"Things in my life are never that simple," Beca said. "I could really fall for this girl. And, quite honestly, I think I already have. If I feel like this now, one date is just going to make me want to make it something more and not just a one-time thing, so I'm going to tell her no. I think that's best."

"I disagree," Emily said. "But, it's your life. You do you."

~ BeChloe Week 2021 - Day 6 ~

Beca had to work late every night the following week and was surprised to realize that she hadn't seen any one-nighters leaving Chloe's apartment during the week.

It was Friday night, and Beca had Emily, Jessica, and Stacie over for a girl's night. They were sitting around enjoying a glass of wine when there was a knock on the door. Beca excused herself and went to answer the door. She was a bit surprised to see Chloe standing there.

"Oh, um, hey," Beca said, looking back over her shoulder.

"Hey," Chloe said, shifting from one foot to the other. "Do you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you."

"Um," Beca stammered just as the door was pulled fully open by Stacie.

"Let me guess," Stacie said, looking Chloe up and down. "Gorgeous redhead? Rockin' bod? Blue eyes you could get lost in for eternity? You must be Chloe."

"Neighbor Chloe?" Jessica asked, rushing over to the door to get a look at Beca's infamous redheaded neighbor.

"I want to meet her, too," Emily said, following Jessica.

"Do you guys mind?" Beca asked, giving them her best death glare.

Chloe stood there smiling. "You've been talking about me, huh?"

"Maybe a little," Beca said, blushing.

"A little?" Stacie snorted. "How about every waking moment. You should come in and join us."

"I don't want to intrude," Chloe said.

"You're not intruding," Jessica said, turning to look at Beca. "Tell her, Beca."

Beca sighed and looked at Chloe. "It's okay. You're not intruding. Besides, I owe you a drink."

"Thank you," Chloe said as she entered the apartment. "You also owe me an answer to that dinner date I asked you for."

"Date?!" Stacie squealed. "You and Beca are dating? Why am I the last to know this?"

"Not dating, Stacie," Beca said, glaring at Stacie.

"That's only because she hasn't said yes yet," Emily said.

"Don't worry," Jessica said. "She will."

"She'd better," Stacie said.

"She's right here," Beca said.

"So, does that mean you'll go out with me?" Chloe asked.

"Can we talk out in the hall?" Beca asked.

"Sure," Chloe said and turned to walk out the door.

Beca followed Chloe out and turned back to look at her friends who were all moving to follow them.

"Stay!"

"Rude!" Stacie said as Beca closed the door behind her.

"Sorry about them," Beca said as she stood facing Chloe. "Look, about dinner. Thank you for the invitation but, I'm, uh, I'm going to have to decline."

"May I ask why?" Chloe said. "I thought we had a connection."

"We did, do," Beca said. "Honestly, I like you, Chloe, but I'm not looking for a one-night stand or a hookup. I'm done with that sort of thing."

"And?"

"And, I don't want to be just another notch on your bedpost," Beca said. "I'm not that girl." Beca sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I know we just met but I would want something more with you."

"What if I said I wanted something more with you, too?" Choe asked, moving a step closer to Beca.

"Are you saying that?"

Chloe put her hands on Beca's hips and pulled her flush to her. Beca let out a small gasp when their bodies clashed together.

"What I'm saying is. ."

The rest of Chloe's words were lost when her lips crashed against Beca's. Beca whimpered and put her arms around Chloe's neck. They battled for dominance, only jumping apart when Beca's apartment door flew open.

"I told you they were kissing," Stacie said with a smug smile.

"Go away," Beca said, making a shooing motion with her hands.

Beca pulled Chloe back to her and reclaimed Chloe's lips. If it were possible, Chloe pulled Beca even closer.

Emily blushed and stepped around them, hurrying down the hall. Stacie stood there watching as Beca and Chloe continued to kiss. Jessica grabbed Stacie by the arm and pulled her away and down the hall.

"I want all the details tomorrow, Mitchell," Stacie called back over her shoulder as Jessica maintained her hold on Stacie's arm to keep her moving.

Chloe finally pulled back from the kiss.

"Wow," Chloe said, touching her forehead to Beca's.

"Wow, indeed," Beca said. She cleared her throat. "Would you like to come in? I think I'd like to be that girl tonight."

Chloe's smile widened as Beca took her hand and led her into her apartment, slamming the door behind them.

#bechloe week 2021 #bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #bechloe #bechloeislegit #bechloe fic

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cosplayinamerica · 4 years

Photo

Oracle (Batgirl) & Jason Todd (Prince of Gotham) // Cosplayer: smiley_hayleyy & @jay_pines / photo: @catmonkeyphotography

Batgirl has always been my favorite DC character, she's a total badass and I've always admired her intelligence and strength, not to mention her character development and the amount of hardship shes had to overcome in her lifetime. Even after she was disabled she continued to be a hero, and honestly its just inspiring. I've also always wanted to be a redhead and loved dying my hair/ wearing a wig for the part! I have cosplayed a few different versions of her and love playing around with different looks.

Since the version of oracle I cosplayed was specifically from the Arkham Knight games, not a whole lot of people knew who I was, but the seasoned batman and DC fans recognized me instantly. I got compliments on how I even included the backpack on the back of the chair and the buttons on the sweater. I think my favorite response was this one lady who was absolutely nerding out on the skytrain ride to the convention, she didn't even know there was a convention on that day but she came up to me and was like "I know this sounds weird but you seriously look like Barbara Gordon" and then when I told her I was cosplaying she got so excited haha

EDS is a rare connective tissue disorder caused by a mutation in the gene that codes for collagen, which is an important protein your body needs to hold together, joints, blood vessels, organs and skin. There are several different types of this condition, and it varies in symptoms and severity from person to person. I was born with the condition, but my symptoms were pretty random and unable to be diagnosed growing up. I discovered I had the condition a few years ago when I started to have severe organ issues, and my joints spontaneously started dislocating everytime I moved. My skin is extremely fragile too and I have to have a doctor for every one of my body parts to keep an eye out for complications.

EDS definitely affects my cosplaying, some days I need a wheelchair to move around or a cane, or a lot of supportive braces, and I try and incorporate my mobility aids into my cosplays. I get fatigued very easily and I have chronic pain all the time so I need to take a lot of breaks, and my costume has to be able to come off easily for when it gets too much or too heavy.

The fabric is very important too because my skin tears, bruises and gets irritated very easily, so I have to make sure that the fabrics I choose agree with me! As well as my spine is very unstable, so I have to be careful with helmets or anything heavy on my head, or anything irritating my neck or shoulders. My joints dislocate with light touches so I have to make sure I am very careful with what positions I pose in, and the kind of stress I put on my joints.

I think I've learned that you can't take your life for granted. I went from being fearful about trying new experiences and going outside my comfort zone, to now being unable to do 50% of the things I could do before and missing out on a lot of things. If you have the health, and the ability to do something, just do it, because you never know when that chance might be taken away.

I've now learned that I should do everything that I can to find joy and enjoy myself while I still have that capacity. I've also learnt that there isn't a doctor who can teach you how to put your own joints back in, and that's been super isolating and terrifying, staring at yourself with a dislocated shoulder, or knee, or hip and having to YouTube how to put them back in, because the hospital turns you away to go see a chiropractor. I've had to learn how to navigate my life by myself, and in a new way.

I wish people would know that its insanely hard for people with disabilities, especially "invisible" ones to get adequate care and services in their communities. I've had to fight with all my strength even to get disability services because I'm considered "young" and "healthy enough" or because I can minimally function on some days.

Getting chewed out by old people when I sit in a disability spot on the bus, or park in a disabled parking spot. You constantly have to prove that you are disabled enough to doctors, the government, people around you, in order to qualify for services or even receive basic medical care. You never know what's going on behind the scenes for a person.

I've always been a little shy and awkward, I'd say cosplay has been a neat experience, having people come up to me ask ask for pictures, nobody had ever really asked for my photo before and it feels pretty awesome! I think its brought me out of my shell a little, and I've met some pretty talented people through it.

I started going to conventions with my dad about 7 years ago, because we both enjoyed nerding out over collectables and other peoples amazing costumes. Twice we dressed up but it was like the absolute worst home made costumes haha. Then we stopped going, but after I met my boyfriend a few years later, he introduced me to the world of cosplay, as he was already a pretty seasoned cosplayer. He started making me costumes so we could do cool photo shoots together, and I really loved doing it as a hobby with him. We've gone to conventions every year together since we've dated. Since then I've been slowly getting better at starting to make my own costumes, but have him to thank for getting me into the hobby.

https://www.instagram.com/chronicallybendy/

#Oracle cosplay #batgirl #batgirl cosplay #jason todd #jason todd cosplay #batman #batman cosplay #cosplay interview

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bluntforcefem · 3 years

Text

bug fables roleswap au!

hi thank you @cyanopicacyanus most beloved i would LOVE to! fair warning to anyone reading the text under the cut that this au explanation will have spoilers for the entirety of bug fables! so if you’re someone who wants to go in entirely blind and hasn’t watched/played bug fables yet- don’t click!

similarly, this covers similar things to the original bug fables stories, including the themes and plots of the requests. so watch out if any of those bug you! (Bug You haha)

the central focus of the au is the swap between the three main characters: leif takes vi’s place, vi takes kabbu’s place, and kabbu takes leif’s place. however, it gets a little more funky from there, in the nature of telling a fun and fresh story AND preserving major & important parts of their original personalities and backstories!

this explanation will go over the characters, and then specific moments & such that i think would change as well! ft. vi & leif getting to do crime, as they deserve

VI AS KABBU

vi, her sister jaune, and a currently unnamed friend of theirs are from a hive outside of bugaria, beyond the wild swamplands. they all decide to go to bugaria to explore - vi for money and exploration, jaune to see the art there. on the way there, in the same fashion as kabbu’s master and bit, vi and jaune’s friend dies to the beast to protect them while they run away.

vi and jaune, fueled by grief and anger at the loss, have a VERY LARGE blowout fight that ends in jaune leaving the swamplands for their home hive, and vi continuing on to go to bugaria! wooooo

what you get here is. vi largely keeps her desire to prove herself and get rewards from exploring, but there’s an added layer of: “if i can just prove myself as an explorer, i can kill the beast, and show jaune that she was wrong and trying to go to bugaria was worth it all along.” (even if vi doesn’t fully believe herself that the loss was worth it! character nuance my beloved)

KABBU AS LEIF

HERE’S WHERE THINGS START TO GET FUNKY! stick with me here folks, because ghosts are going to be real and in your home (and in bugaria.)

it all starts with a change with what the roaches in snakemouth labs are researching - instead of trying to achieve immortality with cordyceps (which is relegated to another lab, which is a special tool that’ll help us later), the roaches in snakemouth were attempting to achieve immortality by finding a way to bind spirits to exist after death, subsequently to re-enter their bodies. snakemouth was chosen for this for the high concentration of magic that allowed this to be possible - magic that permeated beyond just where the labs were. however, no corpse fit the conditions for spirits to re-enter them, leaving tens of spirits lonely and wandering. eventually, they all ganged up on the roaches who left them this way and killed them!

enter: kabbu, his master, and bit, who entered snakemouth den during the reign of elizant the first to find the artifact! the same beat as leif and his exploration team in canon. they get ambushed by a spider while investigating, and kabbu wakes up decades later when leif & vi rescue him!

what happened in snakemouth den was this: all three of the exploration team that entered perished, including kabbu. due to the experiments going on in snakemouth, and the roaches’ adjustment to the area and its energy, all three of their spirits sustained after death, and All Three Of Them Went Into Kabbu’s Body! kabbu is fully unaware of this until his request is done, in which the final battle of snakemouth labs is not a zommoth, but an amalgamation of lost ghosts that kabbu (and master and bit) refuse to acknowledge any similarity too.

instead of using the royal we and slipping into “i” during his request, kabbu uses “i” most of the time, and slips into using “we” when he sees the amalgamation and realizes the truth about what happened to him and his old family. i have given the kabbu ghosts both metaphorical AND literal this time!

tl;dr: the theme of snakemouth labs is ghosts instead of zombies, and kabbu is very, very haunted.

LEIF AS VI

remember when i said that the cordyceps being in another lab would be my special tool that would help us later? yeah! so. the most important part of this is that both leif & muse are still alive! it hasn’t been decades, for him - he’s been around during elizant ii’s reign.

leif and muse were an explorer (muse) and scientist (leif) duo exploration team that was sent by elizant ii to study the lost sands and find clues on the roaches and the everlasting sapling. they were pretty good at it! and one day, near the sand castle gate, leif finds a cordyceps colony that acts a little weird, has some sort of magical ability. so he takes it back to his lab for isolated study!

while he’s studying it, bandits from the lost sands attack while muse is gone, hoping to find research, etc. to hand over to the wasps. the cordyceps’ tube keeping it temperate and lively is shattered, leif is heavily injured, and it isn’t looking good for him or the cordyceps. so they reach out to each other, and fuse into each other, and the cordyceps “patches up” leif. both of them are still kicking around in there! it’s a very confusing case of identity for a while, but in a similar case to canon, the cordyceps Wants to care about muse and the people leif cares about. this time they’re just aware of what they are!

HOWEVER. muse comes back! and leif fills muse in on the situation, but neither him nor the cordyceps are particularly interested in studying himself or the effects it could have on his body, or any form of self-preservation related to it - they’re mostly just content to take their blessings as it is. This Does Not Sit Well With Muse! they argue about it for a while, it causes a rough patch, and they both agree that it would be better if they took a while to think about it by themselves. for context, this happens about six or seven months before the bug fables canon Starts.

leif is also SUPER banned from the explorer’s association & science groups for unethical science practices, particularly when the queen herself condemns his actions (mostly after he refuses to share the information he gained about what this could mean for the everlasting sapling. the cordyceps’ dislike of the roaches and what they did to it sustains post-fusion!)

leif’s request, then, centers around him coming to terms with the idea that he can be both kind to himself as he is (him and the cordyceps, him-and-the-cordyceps) AND make sure that this fusion is healthy for him AND continue his work in some form. it’s all about accepting that although his response was reasonable for when he had it and his experiences, muse was also very right about the fact that he needed to take care of himself after that! and it’s also about reconciling with muse herself. they do NOT get divorced i promise they’re happily married and have a kid

OTHER FUN THINGS TO THINK ABOUT

this is longer than i thought it would be! but hey, here’s my favorite part - getting into some of the major/minor plot changes that result from the changes in the roleswap!

all of the characters keep their attack types! for the reasons explained (gestures above) in their plot. however, kabbu gets a ghost-related TP skill after his request is completed!

leif & vi don’t have a legal explorer’s permit until AFTER snakemouth den. vi isn’t allowed to get one by herself, and when leif offers to be her partner, he’s reminded that he is SUPER BANNED from doing that! so they both sneak into snakemouth den illegally to find the artifact and prove that they can be an exploration team, and along the way find kabbu. inside your local fucked up cave you will find a free moral compass and friend

also: both kabbu and leif have a SUPER weird reaction to areas with heavy magic/the artifacts/roach technology! in this thread, they also have a super fun reaction to seeing each other for the first time, while vi is Literally Just Sitting There. sorry vi you’re on a team with not one but TWO fucked up guys (affectionate) on it

vi’s request is similar to kabbu’s with setting up the gravesite in the swamplands, but team snakemouth also helps her write a letter to jaune! i think in a post-canon world jaune eventually comes to bugaria to see vi and they (after a very long talk and bribery via vi getting jaune into this hive’s art gallery) reconcile too.

muse is HERE and i like her SO MUCH. this isn’t much of a plot thing but she’s alive in this au and everybody gets to see how like. Much she definitely made the first move, etc. i think her and elizant ii are friends they have tea on saturdays

if you made it this far - thanks for reading!! this is an au i love dearly and have put a LOT of thought into and i hope to write some fic for it sometime!!

#kbitycus art #bug fables roleswap #<- this'll be my tag for it lmao #whew this was a lot #bug fables

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

Text

Thicker Than Water (Part 8)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, (here)

Ao3 link HERE

Please note, this is pretty heavy, it deals with a lot of common insecutiries for adults with ADHD and Jaskier blames himself for a lot of things, but it’s not triggering in the traditional sense. Much of this fic has been about the ways Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria and other ADHD symptoms can cause self-destructive actions, this focuses on other insecurities, common blames, and then the self-isolation that can come from guilt, even unfounded guilt.

Please remember, in this fic’s world Geralt and Jaskier actually do have a loving and pretty healthy friendship, albeit with communication issues. People fight some times, these are just ways in which RSD can mess with healthy relationships.

OTHER TW: Mentioned child abuse.

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Yennefer and Ciri asked Jaskier to come down for supper that evening. Between lunch and dinner he’d napped, evidently passing out wasn’t the same as actual good-quality rest and his body was demanding it’s due. Evening came around, though and Yen took his elbow to help him stand.

They walked at a slow pace down the hall, Jaskier’s body not up for much more. Ciri stuck behind them, but the pace was embarassingly painstaking.

“Ciri,” Yennefer said. “This is a lot for Jaskier, and will take some time, why don’t you go see if they need help in the kitchen?”

Ciri gave one more concerned look at Jaskier, then bounded off.

Yennefer steered Jaskier to an alcove in the stone of the hallway. He was embarrassed to find himself out of breath.

“What are you going to do?” She asked him. She wasn’t asking about his lungs.

“Eat supper I suppose.”

“I mean about Geralt.”

He knew she meant Geralt, and sighed. “I don't know, Ciri says I'm angry and I am...”

“But?”

“That day on the mountain I didn’t give him space,” Jaskier said, feeling a lump grow in his throat, blocking off his already small air supply.

“I never know when to give people space, I never have, I've been working on it my whole life and I still don't understand.” His chest ached. With emotion, with pneumonia, with tiredness. With shame.

“I’ve always been different, you know?” He looked up at Yennefer. He was taller than her but she sat regally, and he was hunched over, conserving his air.

“In stories being different is usually a good thing, you get cool powers and people love you, but life isn’t like that. And being different is...it’s so much worse when you’re a kid.”

“I know,” Yennefer said. Those purple eyes...she knew. She understood, probably better than anyone. There were parts of her story that Jaskier didn’t have, wasn’t entitled to, but she understood.

“I cant do things I'm not interested in, not don’t want to, can’t. Even if I am interested, they don't always get done,” Jaskier whispered, like he was confessing to a priest, not a barely-friendly witch in a cold hallway.

“I’m nothing but a ball of loose ends, tangled up and bouncing around, running into people and making them as tangled as I am,” Jaskier said. It came out half-sobbed, which upset his breathing and he began to wheeze, then cough.

“If I’m not interested in something, if nothing lights up my mind, I get so sad and tired it’s like this horrible weight.” Jaskier kept talking, feeling the emotions fighting to get out. “Being around people helps, I can get things done, be more normal. And interesting people, oh they’re the best, of course. They keep that awful sad, tired feeling away because they’re always interesting.”

He looked down at his knees, wrapped in their battered trousers.

“But I need to be around them so much,” he whispered. “And I’m too much for anyone to want around long.”

He leaned his head against the cold stone of the alcove wall, staring blankly and watching as his field of vision blurred with tears.

“I’m dramatic,” he said.

“You’re a bard.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Dad called me a pansy, among worse things. He tried to beat it out of me. I just, I seem to feel more than other people. Happy is more happy, but sadness, fear, rejection, they’re all so much worse. I overreact and it makes me hard to deal with.”

He felt a tear roll down and get caught in the scruff on his chin. “I need people though, and I need people to like me. Crowds come and go I just needed one person to like me so I forced it to be Geralt.”

Jaskier was crying in ernest now, full tears falling and shoulders shaking, clogging up his breathing so his cries mingled painfully with coughs. Yennefer reached out and pulled at his shoulder, bringing him up from his hunched over position.

“I’m angry at him even though it was my fault,” he said, wretchedly.

“I followed him and took advantage of the fact that he doesn’t talk because he wont tell me to go away. I took advantage of his patience like that so someone could keep me around and I let myself believe that he actually wanted me around, that just one person could bear being around me. And being with him left me time to go seek out other interests, go ahead or stay behind, I never got bored and it was perfect for me and probably hell for him.”

Jaskier sniffled, looking away and studying the wall because he couldn’t bear to see the condemnation that would surely be on Yennefer’s face.

“And I fell in love with him. Which was stupid because I've been using him this entire time,” he whispered.

“I used him for music and money, then I used him to bandage my self esteem and its all my fault.”

Jaskier finally managed to look at Yennefer and saw that she was actually rolling her eyes.

“It’s not your fault, he was on a horse, you were walking, he could have left you behind anywhere.”

“He’s too kind to leave me to die on my own.”

“What about towns?” Yennefer asked. “What about the djinn?”

“The djinn was my fault.”

“The djinn was his fault,” Yennefer said, stubbornly.

“The djinn was my fault, I thought he was joking. He’d do that, you know? I’d ask him what he was doing and he’d say ‘cooking a unicorn’ or ‘hunting a gabledegook’ so I just thought he was joking again because I thought surely a djinn was only a story. Even if they weren’t there was no reason Geralt would want one. I made horrible wishes, they could have ruined lives, can you imagine?”

“I can.”

Of course she could. It had been stupid of him to say that, Yennefer knew better than anyone how a careless wish, or even a not so careless one, could turn out.

“I have to ask,” Jaskier said, since Yennefer didn’t seem in the mood to turn him into a salamander. “Did geralt wish for you to love him?”

“He wished for me to be bound to him the sex was just...adrenaline, magic, wanting another outsider, a little bit of the djinn. I won’t do it again.” She said, fervently.

“You don’t have to promise that, I have no claim to him,” Jaskier said.

“No one has claim to anyone,” Yennefer snapped. “But you love him. Anyway, I wasn’t telling you, I don’t want him. I don’t want sex with him I want his destiny, our destiny, nothing more.”

“I love him very much,” Jaskier said, after she settled from her outburst.

“Have you ever told him?”

Never, he might think he owes me something.”

“I think you think he’s more self sacrificing than he is. He wouldn't date you out of obligation, he’s not that sort of man.”

Jaskier tilted his head back against the stone. “But he feels guilty, for everything, all the time. What if he did it as an apology.”

“Geralt wouldn't do you the disservice of a pity relationship.”

“We had a pity friendship.”

“You didn't.”

“We did.”

Yennefer peered at him with those strange eyes. “You love him though.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think its a lost cause.”

“I do.”

Yennefer shifted, pulling her hair over one shoulder. “When I asked earlier, I meant what do you want to do after this? Do you even want to see Geralt?”

“Oh gods I rambled and --”

“Shut up, you needed it off your chest.”

Jaskier sighed. “I always want to see Geralt, but I don't think I should be around him. He needs more space than most people and I need less. I do want an apology, I don't want him to grovel, I don’t want him to beg for me back in his life because that's a choice I want him to make on his own. I don’t even need him to tell me through speech because I know that can be hard. He could write a letter.I just...”

“And if you got an apology?”

“I intend to apologize first. I’ll apologize, maybe he’ll apologize, and that way we can at least be friendly, if not friends. And then in the spring I’ll leave, take a different path and it won’t matter anymore.”

I won’t be able to hurt him anymore, Jaskier thought, darkly.

“Nilfgaard wants you,” Yennefer warned.

“I know,” Jaskier sighed. “I may have to fake my death or... oh!” He looked up at Yen, smiling even as he wanted to cough.

“You can wipe my memory!”

Yennefer actually recoiled.

Jaskier’s excitement had set off the coughing and he felt it tear through his throat and squeeze at his ribs until the fit eased.

“I’m not wiping your memory,” Yennefer said, severely.

“Why not? Yen, it’s the perfect solution, and Nilfgaard couldn’t get anything out of me.”

“And Geralt get’s his damned wish,” Yennefer snarled.

Jaskier looked down. “I know he didn’t mean it, he’s a good man, he wouldn’t wish anyone gone in that way, but yes, that wish would be granted and I’d never bother him again.”

“Geralt has a habit of making stupid wishes that he doesn’t actually want granted,” Yennefer snapped.

“You’re supposed to be on his side,” Jaskier said, smiling wetly. “It’s my fault, remember?”

“I don’t think even Geralt’s on Geralt’s side,” Yennefer said. “I won’t take your memories. You wouldn’t remember anything.”

Jaskier deflated. “I guess I’m as good as dead if I can’t remember songs or how to play the lute.”

Yennefer shifted uncomfortably.

“I would forget how to play, wouldn’t I?”

“Well...” she said. “No. You would remember anything you’d learn, knowledge isn’t memories, you know? You’d even know your songs, just not why you knew them or that you’d written them.”

“If you won’t do it, is there a mage who will? I’d only need to get to a city, how much do you think a spell like that would cost?”

Yennefer groaned. “No, bard, I’ll do it. If it’s what you still want, if you’re sure at the end of winter, yes, I’ll take your memories. It’s better than some quack doing it, or worse, turning you in to Nilfgaard but...I don’t like it.”

Jaskier was surprised to see her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I won’t take that choice from you,” she said, blinking hard. “But I hope it’s not the one you make.” She sniffed, she tried to make it seem disdainful but it was definitely tearful.

“Anyway,” she said. “What about Ciri? She adore’s you, if you didn’t remember her it would break her heart.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I”m only a storyteller,” he said, wishing bitterly that it wasn’t true. “She has a whole marvelous family full of stories they can tell her.”

“Didn’t you hear her, she doesn’t feel like this is a family,” Yennefer said, sharply.

“We’ll fix that.”

“So that you can abandon her, you mean?”

Jaskier grimaced. “It’ll be safer for her. Even if I traveled with Geralt, there’s no guarantee Nilfgaard wouldn’t take me, wouldn’t read my mind and put her in danger.” He looked Yennefer right in the eyes. “I won’t let myself hurt her.”

Yennefer hung her head. “We’ll discuss it at the end of winter,” she said. “Do you still feel up to dinner?”

Jaskier thought about it. He felt lighter, in a way, unburdening himself of the guilt he’d been carrying was better, but he was exhausted, and his chest felt raw.

“I think I’d rather eat in my rooms,” he said sheepishly.

He ate dinner alone, wishing he wasn’t but he was practicing giving people space, and he felt proud of himself for it. He only had to continue it, apologize, and get through the winter.

Then he’d never remember he had problems to begin with.

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

They will get there. Please read the note at the top, these are all very common ADHD insecurities and relationship problems. Remember, Geralt is not the villain. He needs to apologize, and he’s trying, but the villain is the insecurity.

Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz @samukai @charlies-dragon @live-long-and-trek-on @holymotherwolf @morte-mistrata @mewithanie @sharondnovels @stinastar @ionlylikemycat @annafortoday @its-the-quenchiest-stuff @kkiyomizu @so--many-fandoms @endless-whump @ineffable-monster-romancer @tookarma @seraphim-miryam @sweetiepieplum @nerdy-numinuos @ravenclaw-dirt

#the witcher #angst #not much comfort yet #yennefer is a very good friend #geraskier #not yet tho #ADHD! Jaskier #rejection sensitive dysphoria #Autistic! Geralt #who is not the bad guy here #insecurity and lack of communication is the bad guy #Geralt is mentioned to be occasionally nonverbal

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torterrachampion · 3 years

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Chloé d'Apchier, Revenge, and Love

Yep, I'm giving you an essay(?) about this woman and why I think she's neat. Not sure this will be particularly interesting or informative but I wanted to reward myself for studying hard by letting myself gush about Chloé. I'm going to do my very best to pretend I have a point here but tldr Chloé is cool and I like her

Chloé is at the centre of the Gévaudan arc of vnc and I'd make the claim that she is the heart of this arc, and is the most important character throughout. In the present day 19th century Gévaudan she takes on the antagonist role, her actions interfering with Vanitas and Noé and causing the largest problems during the arc. (Yes, Astolfo and Naenia/Faustina also have this role in the present but they aren't nearly as important imo). However, throughout the flashbacks to the past she acts as the main point of view for us readers and serves as the protagonist during those chapters. This grants Chloé an interesting duality which makes her journey incredibly compelling.

When she is first introduced Mochizuki paints Chloé as at best incredibly suspicious and at worst outright malicious. It's heavily implied that she is the Beast (though this turns out to be untrue) and she appears to be working with Naenia, the main villain of the series thus far. Additionally, she drank Noé's blood without consent and confesses to having given Naenia her true name willingly. This immediately throws her into opposition with Vanitas and Noé to a far greater degree than any other curse-bearers encountered prior, who had all been rampaging without control.

However, Mochizuki doesn't take long to start peeling back the layers behind Chloé and her motivations. Directly after learning that she wants revenge, from the cliffhanger at the end of memoire 30, we jump into the past in order to learn more about her. And even before this there are brief glimpses of her past relationship with Jeanne during the early chapters of the arc. Although these moments don't make her any less threatening it does help foster a connection between us and Chloé. Even if she appears villainous her association with Jeanne and unique position as a willing curse-bearer creates a lot of intrigue that makes it easy to quickly become invested in her.

As we see her backstory it becomes increasingly clear that Chloé has lived a very long and oft unpleasant life. Chloé never quite fits in with anyone and it's obvious she's very lonely. Whether it's humans or vampires Chloé isn't able to connect to them entirely.

Chloé is distant from the d'Apchiers and even more so from vampires. She has to remain hidden from public, so she lives separately to her family while they research how to change her into a human. The d'Apchiers do eventually abandon the goal of making Chloé human again while continuing to benefit from the world formula research, but the original intention is still important. Chloé also has to watch as her family dies around her while she remains the same because of her immortality, further isolating her. And Chloé has almost no connections to vampires. Her isolation makes her completely ignorant to the outside world and she is presented no opportunities to meet anyone like herself until very late in life when Ruthven approaches her.

When Chloé asks Ruthven whether he sides with humans or vampires it's unclear which side she places herself on. Unlike Ruthven who, when he asks Noé the same question in memoire 19, explicitly states he in on the vampires' side. It's possible that Chloé doesn't even consider herself part of either group.

It's interesting then that her first friend, Ruthven, could make a place for himself with either group at the time, stating outright that he views them as equal. Chloé's isolated from both while August has somewhat integrated with both.

And Chloé is at her happiest when she's friends with Ruthven. She gets introduced to Jeanne, who gives her the confidence to disobey orders her father gave her decades earlier. Chloé gains confidence in herself through her vampire friends and is even able to connect with her family because of it. Her 'granddaughters' want to play with her because she's started showing interest in going outside. This point in her life is a bright spot where she has managed to find acceptance for just a moment from both her family and from vampires.

However, this doesn't last long. Chloé soon learns that Ruthven is hurt and Jeanne a bourreau after being separated for a while but is unable to accept Machina's offer to come and live with vampires. She's still loyal to the d'Apchiers, thinking of them when she turns him down.

And after this she is reunited with Ruthven in the worst way possible. He betrays her. He tries to take her alteration device by force and when he fails he disappears. And Chloé, having been abandoned by him, throws herself into her work on the alteration device. Because she doesn't need it for revenge at this point the reason she's so desperate to complete it is so she can become human again. Ruthven was Chloé's connection to the vampire world and after his betrayal she attempts to discard it entirely, clinging to her identity as a d'Apchier. She'd evidently always wanted to regain her humanity to some degree but never so fervently as after Ruthven's betrayal.

It doesn't take long for her to be rejected by the d'Apchiers as well. Her family dies at the hands of the church and Chloé blames herself. She told the Marquis d'Apchier about the churchmen killing people in the hopes of stopping them but only succeeded in putting a target on the d'Apchiers back. One of her last surviving family members calls her a monster and she spends multiple days curled up in bed crying, Jean-Jacques acting as her last ally while she’s been spurned by everyone else she cares about.

It's no wonder that when Jeanne shows up to take her head she welcomes it, asking Jeanne to finish her. Chloé was abandoned by everyone when all she ever wanted was to be accepted so of course she’s tired. But Jeanne can't kill her. So Chloé tries to save them both the and pain dives off a cliff to finish things. Naturally, Naenia interferes, goading Chloé into taking revenge instead in exchange for her true name.

Right up until the last moment Mochizuki tries to convince us that Chloé wants revenge on Gévaudan for all the pain everything there has caused her. But of course that’s not what Chloé wants. She doesn’t hate the d'Apchiers or Ruthven or Jeanne. Chloé hates those who hurt the people she loves. That would be Naenia and herself.

Chloé’s reason for living is Jean-Jacques at this point. The last thing she wants to do before she dies is get revenge for someone she loves. She doesn’t see the worth in her own life or the fact that she’s loved in return. So it’s kind of beautiful that what starts to snap her out of her curse-bearer state is Jean-Jacques affirming her and expressing how much he cared about her. And what fully breaks her free is Jeanne and Jean-Jacques reaching out to her. Chloé’s entire character is about a desire to be accepted and after centuries she finally gets it at the end of Gévaudan. The day was saved by the power of love this arc. Is that cheesy as hell? Yes. Did it nearly make me cry? Yes.

That’s it. I didn’t really have a point here, I just wanted to talk about Chloé. It’s not even very polished, I wrote this pretty stream of consciousness. But thanks if you make it this far. Here’s a couple of Chloé panels I was really sad I didn’t get to include:

#just me rambling about my favourite character and completed arc #to some degree this was an excuse to show off a bunch of Chloé panels as well #Chloé brainrot is stronger than ever baby #I wrote an essay about her for fun seriously hit me up if you ever want to talk about Chloé #vanitas no carte #vnc #vnc manga #chloé d'apchier #pspsps Chloé fans

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Your Heart

Chapter 8 -- Aftershocks

Word Count: 13482

READ ON AO3

Margaret’s quarters had to be one of the most glamourous in the entire manor. Designed to be a duplex, it consisted of two different spacesーthree, if you count the bathroomーthe lower floor held the living room, and the higher one was where the Council member’s actual bedroom was.

The living room resembled that of a wealthy family’s. A deep red velvet hue gave a touch of colour to the walls, which were decorated by several portraits revealing pieces of contemporary art. Now, Sam loved going to museums and culture in general, but she couldn’t identify what the artists had tried to portray to save her life. When asking about the meaning of one of the paintings, Margaret once told her it was an allegory to the passage of time. How could a smear of red, a blue smudge, and a black, straight line mean any of that she had no idea.

Questionable taste in decor aside, Margaret’s quarters also consisted of a parquet flooring that always seemed to have been recently varnished, so shiny and clean one could eat from it. Just from a small glimpse at her room, one could guess the older witch had a weakness for rococo furniture; a set of golden couches and chairs with cream upholstery was scattered around the place. A backless seat was in front of the piano at the far corner of the room, a loveseat could be seen located under a particularly large painting, Sam and Margaret were both seated, one in front of the other, on two chairs…

Ironically for someone as elegant and graceful as Margaret, all her plants were made of plastic. Grandma Ida had once told her in confidence the clan’s best spellcaster was also the worst gardener she’d ever seen. According to her grandma, when Margaret was still just a witch in training her teachers ended up forbidding her from getting near to their supplies of mandrake; she always killed them all and the plant was very difficult to find.

At the far corner of the room, to the side of the piano, a white staircase with a golden banister led to the Council member’s room. What secrets her bedroom held, however, Sam didn’t know. Margaret was very particular about who she let in on her personal life, and bedrooms were extremely personal.

Which was enough of a hint to understand she hadn’t been called just to chat and have some tea with her. “Your Majesty,” Margaret broke her out of her musings and from inspecting her personal chambers, “I understand you already know why I have summoned you here, correct?”

Even when she was about to scold her, the older witch always looked like the epitome of grace and dignity. They were currently seated on two of her rococo chairs, which Sam had to admit, were pretty but not necessarily comfortable; a coffee table with a porcelain tea set alongside different types of biscuits, scones (a favourite of Margaret since she spent some time abroad in London in her youth), and sandwiches were in full display in between the two.

Knowing how seriously Margaret took table manners, Sam put her teacup on its respective plate before delicately placing both down on the coffee table. “I have an inkling as to why that might be.”

The African-American woman’s perfect posture never faltered. “In that case, I will get straight to the point: sending Miss Baker and Miss Zhou back home while you were left alone with the Ghost King was unbelievably unwise.”

Sam couldn’t help but wince when Margaret’s forest green eyes laid on her, an icy quality to them. “I understand your concern, Margaret, believe me, I do, but…”

“‘But?’” Margaret cut her off, raising an eyebrow as her cup of tea was halfway to her mouth. “Your Majesty, in case you forgot, you are our queen. Amity Park clan’s leader. Dozens of women depend on you for guidance. Your sole presence keeps us from going to war over the throne!”

Unable to hear the same things over and over, the young queen turned her head to the side, as if pained by her words. “I know, I know.” She raised a hand to silence her. “Margaret, you needn’t remind me the very reason why I even stepped up to become queen. Keeping the clan from succumbing to chaos and honouring my grandmother are my main motivations for everything I do.”

“You and me both know that, my Queen.” Margaret conceded, stirring her second cup of tea. “But that does not change the fact that what you did was foolish. However, I also know that you never do anything without reason, so I am willing to hear it.”

With a gesture of her hand, she motioned for Sam to explain herself. Sighing, the violet-eyed girl did just that. “I know my life is precious, but the circumstances were dire and even now I can’t shake the feeling that it’s a miracle I’m even alive.”

“Forgive me, your Majesty. But I fail to see how that is helping your case.” The green-eyed woman pointed out. Deep down she knew Sam probably had a good reason for doing what she did, but as second-in-command, it was her duty to ensure their queen never made a mistake like that ever again.

“I’m getting there, I promise.” Sam hastily said.

With a nod, Margaret gestured for her to continue. “I don’t feel comfortable putting my safety before others’ just because of my position.” She finished, and even Margaret’s stoic mask cracked a little at the revelation. “Stephanie and Susan were with me, Margaret. They were in as much danger as I was, I couldn’t risk their lives like that.”

“Miss Zhou and Miss Baker both volunteered to escort you to your visits to the Ghost Zone, your Majesty.” Her fellow Council member reminded her in between sips. “Had anything happened to them, they were just doing their job.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing their loyalty would force them to pay such a high price.”

Margaret was about to take another sip of her tea when Sam’s solemn words made her eyes widen. Looking over at her, she noticed her tense posture, her stiff shoulders, her slim fingers clutching tightly at the fabric of her black and purple plaid skirt...And the resolution in her eyes. The older witch could’ve sworn she saw the same fire that was so characteristic of her grandmother in Sam’s violet gaze.

Unaware of the reaction she’d caused to the woman in front of her, Sam went on. “I’m the queen, Margaret. It’s my duty to make sure our people are safe. How do you expect me to just leave them behind, not knowing if they’ll even make it alive!? Even if the black hole had been taken care of without my assistance and they would’ve been safe from it, how do we know the ghosts wouldn’t have taken advantage of the chaos to attack them?!

“Even if I have a feeling King Phantom would’ve tried to protect them, it was still too risky. I would never have been able to live with myself if anything had happened to them because, somehow, my life’s more important than theirs!”

Setting her now cold teacup down, the African-American witch clasped her hands together on her lap. She regarded the young queen with a face that betrayed no emotion. “Your Majesty, you do realise every single one of your points can also be applied to your own situation, right? Just like Miss Baker and Miss Zhou could have been in danger at the hands of the ghosts, so could have you. Except an attempt against your life would be grounds for going to war.”

Knowing she was right, Sam averted her gaze to the side. Suddenly that one painting with the impossible-to-understand analogy on the passage of time seemed much more interesting than ten minutes ago.

Margaret sighed as she stood up. Her high heels clicking against the parquet, she hovered over Sam, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Samantha, I know choosing what is best for our people is hard, especially if it comes into conflict with our personal beliefs and desires, but duty must come first.”

The young sorceress started at the sound of her full name. She really hated being called ‘Samantha’, but knew that was the most personal Margaret would ever get with her, so it'd only be rude of her to complain. “I know,” she sighed dejectedly. “I know, it’s just...I can’t just do that to them! Susan is still just a teenager; no matter how good of a potion-maker and warrior she is, she’s still too young. She has so much to live, I can’t afford to make her miss out on all that for my sake…”

“But what about Miss Baker? I believe you two are the same age; you both still have so much to live, as well.”

“You mean Stephanie still has so much to live for. I gave up on that a long time ago…” Sam couldn’t resist the urge to scoff.

Even if all witches had to make compromises to balance their lives inside and outside of the coven, Sam’s entire life had revolved around giving up on one passion after the other. Growing up she couldn’t make friends because other girls weren’t allowed to go near the queen’s granddaughter. Her world was reduced to the manor and her house, to her family and her teachers, to her lessons and the very scarce moments where she could pretend she was a kid like any other. After her grandma died, under the threat of her coven falling into anarchy until they found a new leader, she sacrificed her one chance at a relatively normal life in exchange of being elected the future queen. For four years her extensive studying and isolation were self-imposed; the only times she allowed herself to take a break where her birthday ーso her dad wouldn’t get suspicious as to what was so important she couldn’t celebrate her own birthdayーand the anniversary of her grandma’s death; because there was no way she’d ever have the energy to work on the most painful day of the year. And now that she was queen, every waking moment was dedicated to looking after her people.

Stephanie was just a shy girl who loved books. Between the two of them, she was the only one who really had a chance at experiencing life outside of the manor’s walls. And Sam refused to be the reason why she lost that chance.

Understanding dawning on her, Margaret’s face softened. “Your motives were noble, my Queen, and I am sure the Baker and Zhou families are extremely grateful for having their children returned to them. Just try to keep in mind that with great power comes great responsibility, and more often than not, that means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

As the spellcaster went back to her chair, Sam could only stare after her like she’d just nonchalantly revealed the meaning of life to her. “...did you just quote Spider-Man?”

Picking her teacup back up, she just chuckled in amusement. “I am a woman of culture, your Majesty. Now, pour yourself another cup of tea or help yourself to some snacks, before it gets cold.”

Reaching over for the kettle to pour some more tea on her cup at the same time as she started munching on a vegetarian sandwich, a comfortable silence settled between them. The only sounds disturbing the quiet atmosphere were the occasional sound of sipping and of plates clattering. In the midst of the silence, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but race back to the moment right after Phantom stopped the blackhole.

She wasn’t lying when she told Margaret she believed he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Susan and Stephanie, for her own protection seemed to be one of his top priorities. That and their last interaction before she returned to Earth had been replaying inside her head over the last several hours.

As she and Phantom stared at each other, unbeknownst to them, both thinking that they could indeed make things work as long as they worked together, Sam’s mind unexpectedly wandered to uncharted territory. Now that she was looking at him up close, a part of her had to agree with all the fangirls who’d squeal every time Phantom appeared on TV; he was quite handsome.

It was undeniable that the Ghost King’s defined physique was anything but hard on the eyes. She didn’t know what it was, but something about himーmaybe the inches he had on her, or maybe the way he’d pressed her close to his chest earlier when he was trying to put her to safety, or maybe the intensity of his neon green eyesーmade her feel safe.

Now that they weren’t separated by a large table and a few feets of distance, Sam could appreciate his chiseled jaw and how his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he gulped, sending a heatwave straight to her very core. His intoxicating eyes no longer looked at her with suspicion and disdain, but with gratefulness and with a candour whose origins she couldn’t quite identify, and at that very moment she was sure nothing would’ve been able to get her to tear her own violet gaze away from them. His shock-white hair alongside his characteristically ghostly glowーthat glow she used to interpret as a warning sign; a reminder of his true natureーall of a sudden made him look ethereal, otherworldly. Like a guardian from beyond sent to protect everyone from evil. Like...Like…

Like an angel.

And his lips...Oh, God. They were so inviting. The mere thought of kissing those lips was incredibly exhilarating. From where she stood, Sam could already imagine his lips on hers, coming together in a slow, passionate dance; their touch so rough and yet so gentle; both breathing her to life and leaving her breathless; and the way he was moving them at that very moment only helped in further cementing her beliefsーwait a minute. They were moving?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” Sam exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, shaking her hands before her and already feeling the scorching heat on her cheeks. She barely resisted the urge to facepalm herself. What was she thinking?! Drooling over Phantom? Fantasising with kissing him?! Did she lose her mind?! Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she originally believedーshe was still debating on itーbut he was still a ghost. And ghosts and witches didn’t mix, especially like that. Hell, not even when they were still allies did a ghost and a witch ever end up together!

Noticing the Ghost King staring at her quizzically, the witch cleared her throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly.

Phantom’s eyes shot open at that. “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Sam told him, missing the way his eyes softened at her words. She put a little distance between the two, ready to cast the spell that would send her home, when Phantom’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of herself, the young witch couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

The relieved expression he sent her way sent her heart aflutter. Feeling the blush coming back, she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!” Again, she was getting ready to leave when Phantom’s voice stopped her.

“Wait, Lady Arcana!”

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

Against her better judgement, Sam’s expression softened. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

She could almost feel how every individual cell in her body separated before being rearranged again. The tingling sensation was similar to when she’d phased through Phantom’s lair, except it was warm rather than chilly. Spellcasting felt like being cocooned in a thousand blankets inside your home during a particularly cold winter night, while the sensation brought by ghost powers was akin to sticking your head into the freezer when it was 104 º outside.

Both experiences were incredibly pleasant, albeit drastically different from one another.

When Sam opened her eyes, everything was mayhem.

She’d arrived in the middle of the Grand Hall inside 917 Maplestreet, and every single witch present was looking straight at her. Judging from their positionsーsome had risen from their seats, their hands slamming the tables; others had their arms raised as if making suggestions or waiting for their turns to speak up; a few were arguing amongst themselves…ー, she’d just interrupted a council meeting. Most likely to discuss her current situation.

Oh, great.

“Your Majesty!” A voice cried out, and Sam almost fell back upon impact, for someone had slammed into her chest with great force, almost knocking the wind out of her.

Looking down, she realised the iron grip she suddenly found herself in belonged to none other than Susan. The poor thing was sobbing and hiccuping uncontrollably against her chest. Automatically, Sam put her own arms around her in an attempt to sooth her. With how fierce and disciplined she usually was, it was easy to forget she was, technically, still a kid. She had much to learn before she became completely desensitised to the world’s horrors.

“It’s fine, Susan.” The queen soothed, caressing her hair. “I’m fine.”

Right at that moment, the room erupted in a row of applause and cheering, alongside many questions directed her way. Before Sam could so much as tell them to speak one at a time, she felt something being discreetly slipped under her dress. Turning her head to the side in surprise, she found herself face to face with Stephanie. “Welcome home, your Majesty. I am so glad you have returned.”

When the strawberry blonde winked at her, Sam understood everything. Steph had taken advantage of the current chaos, and of her tied up skirt, to return Arcana’s Grimoire to her. Sam couldn’t help but smile; she was worth much more than people often gave her credit for.

Paulina and Star almost tripped over themselves trying to reach her. Rushing to her side, both simultaneously looking panicked and relieved beyond belief, the moment they reached her side they started fussing about her personal care, promising to prepare a warm bubble bath immediately.

“Your Majesty!” Paulina exclaimed in between pants, “You have no idea how glad we are that you’re back!”

“Totally,” Star agreed beside her friend, nodding but equally winded. “One minute Pauli was trash-talking Ms. Gorilla, and the next news reached us that you hadn’t returned from the Ghost Zone!”

“I’m sorry,” a sultry voice from behind startled them, while Sam shook her head in pity, anticipating what was to come, “you were doing what?” Delilah asked the two ladies-in-waiting sharply, her unforgiving eyes narrowed on them.

The Witch Queen could only roll her eyes knowingly at the way Paulina and Star flinched upon noticing the shapeshifter heard them. ‘Ms. Gorilla’, as Star helpfully supplied when they were assigned to her upon becoming the clan leader, was a moniker Paulina had come up with at the height of her jealousy towards the stunning Council member. Sam, despite her love for animals and nature, hadn’t noticed until they pointed it out, but Delilah shared her name with the famous Purple Back Gorilla that was discovered to be female by a high school student working on extra credit back when she was fourteen.

The thing is, as good-natured and laid-back as Delilah could be, she did not appreciate being compared to such a majestic creature. “I’m waiting, Miss Anderson. What did you say you were doing before you heard the news?”

From where she stood, still being held by Susan’s iron grip, Sam could see how Star was beginning to sweat. The blonde usually didn’t have trouble saying what she thought of others, even if it was mean-spirited or uncalled for, but even she knew it was foolish to anger another witch, especially when her position was much higher than hers.

Squirming under the shapeshifter’s harsh glare, the handmaiden couldn’t do anything but stutter. “Uh...um...w-well...we...we were…and the...the gorilla...b-but then...” She trailed off, luckily for her, Paulina chose that very moment to jump in on the conversation.

“We were just talking about the new gorilla-inspired fashion collection!” The Latina lied and, if you listened closely, you could hear the way her already pronounced accent thickened. Paulina was a good liar, but even she sometimes had trouble working under pressure. “It’s absolutely fabulous! Almost as much as your blouse,” she complimented as she reached out to touch the fabric, “Is it new?”

Unamused, Delilah decided against pushing the issue...for now. Gently swatting the Latina’s hand away from her clothes, she directed a much kinder expression towards Sam. “It’s good to have you back, my Queen. We were worried sick for your safety.”

The violet-eyed queen smiled in return. “It’s good to be back.”

Suddenly, an imposing voice made itself heard from the other side of the room. Heads snapping to the origin of the sound, everyone’s eyes landed on Margaret standing with her hands behind her back by the entrance. She looked as poised and collected as usual.

Somehow, Sam knew she was in for a world of trouble.

“Your Majesty,” Margaret began, and her voice commanded such respect a pin drop could be heard in the middle of the previously loud room, “you have no idea how grateful we are for your safe return. If what Miss Zhou and Miss Baker told us is true,” both witches at her side sent their queen an apologetic look, “then you must be exhausted. Please, after you’re well-rested, come tomorrow to my personal chambers.” She ordered, because she didn’t even ask for an answer, before turning away. Just as she was about to leave the room, she called out over her shoulder, “We have much to discuss.”

Oh, yeah. She was indubitably, thoroughly screwed.

Her instincts were proven correct the moment she was given the third degree by the woman in front of her. As she pondered Margaret’s previous words, however, a question materialised itself inside Sam’s mind.

Furrowing her brow, she called out to her fellow Council member. “Margaret?”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“You said we more often than not have to make sacrifices in the name of the greater good, even if it goes against our personal beliefs and desires…” she started carefully, looking down at her cup. “Have you ever had to sacrifice something you cared deeply about or wanted desperately for the sake of the coven?”

For a moment, the silence had returned, only it now hung heavily over them, when just a few minutes it’d been comfortable. After a few minutes had passed and she still received no answer, Sam was about to ask again when Margaret finally answered. “Yes, I have.”

Her head shooting at her uncharacteristically lifeless voice, Sam almost gasped. Before her, Margaret wore the saddest expression she’d ever seen of her face. Her deep, green eyes, usually so vibrant and full of colour, were now bleak and devastated, reminiscent of a forest after a wildfire. The otherwise calm and collected Council member now looked heartbroken and desolate, like a piece of her was missing. Margaret certainly wasn’t crying, but she seemed so miserable Sam could feel tears of her own stinging her eyes.

“I...I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh...right! O-of course. Don’t worry.” The lavender-eyed witch hastily said, too shell shocked to be more eloquent. Margaret never used contractions when talking to her.

Margaret acknowledged her with a respectful nod of her head. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Then she went back to drinking her tea.

Deciding it’d be best to imitate her and pretend nothing had happened, Sam couldn't help but wonder what might’ve happened to Margaret to make her so miserable. But above all else, she could only hope she’d never have to sacrifice the same thing. Somehow, she had a feeling death would be less painful.

...........

The forest in the outskirts of Amity Park could be described as anything but a walk in the park. The tree trunks knotted and twisted, forming shapes made out of the stuff of nightmares. The wind rustling the leaves sounded like a ghostly wail, not unlike Danny’s, albeit much quieter. That only made it more sinister. And the sound of twigs, dead leaves, and fallen tree branches crunching beneath had him frantically looking around for the slightest sign of danger. Since it was mid-October, nearing Halloween, the weather was beginning to change as well. For instance, temperatures were starting to drop from the cool yet warm ones that reigned during late September, and the first fall rainstorm hit the town just the night before.

And since it’d just rained the night before, that meant Tucker was now stepping on mud. He was stepping on mud with his new boots on. He was stepping on mud and getting his new boots that cost him a fortune, mind you, dirty. Already irritated and spooked beyond belief, he called out to the person walking in front of him, “Care to remind me why the fuck I didn’t turn you down on your invitation to, and I quote, ‘a fun fieldtrip?’”

Stopping momentarily to look over her shoulder, Jazz scolded him, “Language.” With that out of the way, she turned her head back around and kept on walking through the forest. “And to answer your question, you agreed to come with me because you want to help Danny as much as I do.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, taking advantage of her back, turned to him, and followed her close behind. “Yeah, that I know. What I mean to say is, how is hiking aimlessly around the woods going to do anything to help Danny?!”

They’d been trekking around that damned forest for three hours, with absolutely nothing to guide them but an old, probably outdated, map some ranger had given to Jazz back at the information booth. Three hours wandering around a forest that was creepier than Mr. Lancer’s ‘sculptured summer physique’ back in summer camp, and the most resting they’d done was when Jazz would suddenly halt to check the map or crouch down to get some samples.

Just like she was doing at that very moment. “Look at this, Tucker. Ocimum basilicum!” She reached her hand out to show it to him before putting it inside a little glass jar. She brought the jar close to her face. “Did you know in Christianity this plant is said to have sprouted when Jesus’ blood fell to the ground?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” The technopath said, unimpressed. “What I do know is that Ocimum basilicum and basil are the exact same thing! Care to tell me why you’re so transfixed on a mere spice? As much as I love myself a good pizza, even I have to admit this is just ridiculous.”

Sliding her backpack across her shoulder, the redhead put away the basil. With that taken care of, she sent her friend a bored look, standing up from the floor and coming to stand beside him. “It’s important because it’sー.”

“‘It’s going to help Danny.’” Tucker finished for her, doing a poor impression of her voice. “You said that over a million times already! Can you at least tell me how it’s going to help Danny?”

Jazz looked away, sulking. “Because...because it just is, okay?! Trust me, Tucker, I know what I’m doing.”

But the African American young man wasn’t buying it. That answer was far too childish, especially coming from someone like Jazz, who’d been acting like someone twice her age for almost as long as he could remember. Something was definitely off.

“But what could it be?” He asked himself as they resumed their march. She said she knew what she was doing, and that was all great and dandy, except he had no idea what they were doing! He was the technician of the team, his specialty were computers, viruses, and thwarting technology-dependent ghosts’ plans! He was not made to hike, looking for God knows what, in the middle of a forest!

And Jazz?! He barely held back a scoff. No matter how much more physically adept than him she was, the eldest Fenton was no field agent, either. For years, her way of assisting Danny in ghost-hunting had been through research, bringing back-up,helping work out the tricky details in their plans, now she was obsessed with finding out more about the witches…

Wait a minute.

Tucker stopped dead in his tracks, fists curled at his sides and a very angry glare directed at the back of the head of his best friend’s older sister appeared on his face. “You dragged me here to help you research witches and avoid Danny’s wrath.”

It wasn’t a question and she knew it. Wincing at the, accurate, accusation, the redhead turned around slowly. “I...I have no idea what you’re talking about…” She tried playing dumb.

In an instant, Tucker got in her face, wagging a chastising finger at her. “Oh, don’t you dare play innocent, little missy! You might have been able to fool your parents all these years, but that’s only because they’re surprisingly gullible. You can’t fool me; we’re here to research witches aren’t we?”

Looking down on the floor, Jazz ultimately gave in, sighing. “Yes, we are.”

“And I’m guessing Danny knows nothing about this which is why; first, you went out of your way to organise this on my free day, which, for the record, also happens to be the day Danny’s schedule is packed; second, you wouldn’t tell me why we’re here; and third, you’re just picking random things up, because not even you know what you’re looking for.”

She bit her lip, knowing she’d been caught. She always forgot how observant Tucker could be. “Maybe?”

“Jazz!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?!” She snapped. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you or Danny, but I just can’t sit idly by and watch as he enters the lion’s den, completely unprepared!” She stepped closer to Tucker, looking him dead in the eye. “You know Danny, Tucker. He shoulders everything and refuses to let us help. Please, you have to understand; I have to help my little brother.”

Looking down at her pleading eyes, the techno geek’s own teal orbs softened. He did understand. He really wished Danny would let them help more often. It was just painful watching him come back looking like death, knowing he’d been sticking his neck out for a town that didn’t always appreciate him, and not being able to do much because even then he was protecting them.

It was maddening, really.

Sighing, he grabbed Jazz by her shoulders, trying to show her just how much he understood her plight. “Listen, I know how you feel. You know I know how you feel. But we gotta make sure us going behind Danny’s back will really be for his own good. We can’t just wander aimlessly with no real plan in mind! Never mind how good our intentions are.” Seeing as she only stared at him, unblinkingly, he sighed and let her go. “Face it, Jazz. We’re about as lost as Danny when it comes to witches.”

He was sure what he said would be discouraging, hence why he didn’t understand the way her eyes lit up. “That’s where you’re wrong!” She exclaimed just as she started rummaging through her backpack. After a few seconds, she pulled a book out. “This is a book on plants, arthropods, and other ingredients traditionally used by witches in folklore. If we find a place where many of said ingredients grow or inhabit, we might know where to find them!”

“Right…” he drawled, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to keep Jazz from her goal. “Because there’s no way a group of women from the 21st century have learned to grow or breed those things from the comfort of their homes.” He deadpanned in response. “Is that why we’re here? To look for a bunch of plants and insects?”

Her right hand still clutching the book close to her chest, the other hand fisted on her hip, Jazz sent him an irritated look. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking the witches’ lair could actually be around here.”

Tucker’s brows shot up at that. “What makes you think that?”

“Because it’s tradition!” She exclaimed, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and shoving it in his face. “Did you know Baba Yaga was said to inhabit the Russian forests?”

Glaring at her, he carefully got her phone out of his face. “Yeah...She was also said to be an old hag, with a blue nose, and a bone leg. Pretty sure the Witch Queen Danny meets up with is supposed to be quite the looker. So, try something else.”

Jazz pouted, before trying to come up with a theory that would please him. “Well, what if there are Russian witches in Amity Park? Maybe they stayed true to tradition, taking advantage of the locals’ ignorance to remain inconspicuous.”

“Nice theory,” he clapped sarcastically, “only one tiny, itsy, bitsy detail, though. I doubt the Cold War made it easy for Russian witches to move to the USA. Instead of putting them up to trial for being witches, they’d have been accused of being spies.”

She was beginning to get frustrated with Tucker’s lack of cooperation. Groaning, she snapped. “What do you suggest we do, then?!”

“How about get back to civilisation and forget all about this silly quest, huh?!” He snapped back, dramatically flailing his arms in the air in exasperation. Seriously, were all Fentons supposed to be stubborn to the point of idiocy? Didn’t they understand some things weren’t worth falling-outs and even their lives? He loved that family to death, but if he was going to die for them, he at least would like it to be because of something useful.

Jazz just kept staring back at him, frowning in annoyance, before turning away from him in a huff. Tucker was about to call her out on her behaviour when she beat him to it. “I know I’m being difficult. I know I’m looking for things that aren’t there, but I just need to help Danny!” She whirled back around to look him in the eye, desperation clearly laced in her voice. “Please, Tucker. You have to understand.”

“Uh, no. Not that! Anything but that!” He cried, frantically covering his eyes with his hands. She was pleading, giving him the trademark Fenton, sad, puppy-dog look. The damned thing was so effective he was genuinely surprised it didn’t count as a persuasion technique. Peeking through his fingers, he chanced to look, only to close his eyes shut not long after. Nope, she was still doing that look.

With a dismayed moan, he gave in after a while. “Fiiiiiine!” He groaned, only to subsequently send a glare at Jazz’s direction when he saw her fist-bumping from the corner of his eye. He quickly squared his posture, jabbing his finger against her chest. “But if Danny busts us, you’re explaining things to him!”

He so hated the way she was beaming at him, completely ignoring his threat. “No problem!” She then slapped his hand away, causing him to let out a sound of complaint. The grin had been replaced by an irritated frown. “If you ever touch my chest again, though, I’m going to blast you with the Fenton Ghost Peeler until your skin falls off and only your non-existent muscles remain.”

“Hey!” He began to protest against her comment, only to back-pedal when she sent him a withering glare in warning. “No touching your chest ever again. Got it.” He smiled sheepishly at her. When that seemed to please her, she turned her focus on her book, prompting Tucker to ask. “So, what now?”

“Now we look for evidence that proves the witches of Amity Park visit this place.” She replied, not looking up from her book.

“No, I got that. I mean how are we going to do that?”

“Well, if witches really do need certain ingredients for their spells and potions, then I’d suggest we look for things that could possibly grow around here.” Jazz kept reading the paragraphs detailed in her book, turning pages at the speed of lightning. Stopping at a certain page, she tapped her chin with one finger as she pondered their options before showing the book to Tucker. “Do you think we could find some newts around here? They’re said to have been highly demanded as an ingredient for their eyes.”

Taking a look at the slimy creature pictured in the book, the techno geek recoiled in disgust. He couldn’t hold back a shudder before regaining his composure. “First of all,” he lifted his index finger in the air, “the closest lake in the area is Lake Eerie, a good three hours away from here. So I highly doubt we’ll be finding any newts any time soon.” He fiddled with his PDA before showing it to her, a map appearing on the screen. “And second, even if there were any lakes around here, there’s no way I’m gonna touch an amphibian. I’m a techno geek, not a biology geek. If you want help collecting those little guys, you’re going to have to ask Sam for help.”

That perked the redhead’s interest. “You mean the Manson heiress?” She asked, not missing a beat. Even if the topic of conversation had changed greatly, her focus was still on her book. If newts weren’t an option, something else had to be. She just had to find it. “Is it me, or is there something going on between her and Danny?”

Not one to resist some good gossip, especially when it was related to Danny’s love life, Tucker leaned in closer to Jazz, as if he were about to share a conspiratorial theory with her. “Oh, something is definitely going on. I haven’t seen Danny act so comfortably yet bashful around a girl since Valerie. As for Sam, let’s just say I don’t usually see her with other guys. Period. As a matter of fact…” Eyes snapping open, he trailed off. What Jazz had said about Sam finally catching up to him.

The psychology understudy looked over at him in concern. Unlike her friend, she wasn’t one to gossip, but her little brother’s mental health and social life was something she cared deeply about. Moreso because the two aspects tended to go hand in hand. “Uh, Tucker? Is everything okay?”

“What did you just say?” He practically mumbled in a voice so low Jazz had to strain her ears to hear him.

“Um,” she stammered, “I said, ‘is everything okay?’”

“No, no.” The African American man shook his head and hands, indicating that wasn’t what he meant. “Before that.”

“I literally said ‘uh, Tucker.’” She repeated, looking at him like he’d grown a second head or something. Did a branch fall on his head while they were hiking and she hadn’t noticed?

Oh, for the love of God...This was getting ridiculous! Did he have to spell it out for her? Scrubbing his face with one hand, growing frustrated, he tried one last time. “No, Jazz.” He gritted out as gently as possible. “I’m asking what you called Sam earlier.”

“You mean when I said ‘the Manson heiress?’” She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, that!” He exclaimed, before returning Jazz’s confused expression with one of his own. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really don’t know?” She asked in disbelief. Considering that, no, he really had no idea what she was even talking about, the technophile could only shake his head and wait for answers. “Oh! Wow...So turns out Danny isn’t the only person in Amity Park who doesn’t know!” She meant to mutter that part to herself, but her disbelief was so great she forgot to lower her voice, causing Tucker to hear her just fine.

He didn’t know why, but the moment the Fenton girl’s aqua eyes landed on him, Tucker couldn’t help but feel he was being regarded with pity. The fact that she nervously rubbed her arm holding the book up and down while avoiding his gaze didn’t help matters any. “Um, you see...You know Sam’s name, right?”

That made him furrow his brow, not quite following. “Obviously,” he scoffed. “Her name’s Sam Manson. But how come her ID makes her an heiress?!”

“Because she’s not just a Manson,” Jazz corrected him gently, “she’s the only child of the Mansons.”

“Are you saying she’s related to that psycho serial killer?” He squeaked, rightfully freaked out. Deep down, however, he knew that couldn’t be right. Sure, Sam had a spooky taste in...everything, really. But she would never hurtーno, wait a minute. She could definitely inflict pain on others through elaborate and well-thought schemes. But she just couldn’t be related to a serial killer!

...or could she?

“What?!” The redhead gasped. “No, of course not! I’m saying she’s related to the Manson family,” when he was about to comment further, she stopped him with a raised hand, “as in, the descendants of Izzy Manson,” she stressed, annoyed; “the creator of the cellophane-wrapping machine used for chopsticks.”

Growing frustrated at Tucker’s blank face, she made an indecipherable sound at the back of her throat before snapping. “Darn it, Tucker! Rich, I’m saying she’s filthy, stinking rich!” She rolled her eyes when the techno geek’s jaw almost touched the floor. “Gosh! I swear, you’re even more hopeless than Danny!”

“Wait a minute, Sam is rich?!” He all but screeched. “How come she never told me?!”

Feeling sorry for him, she could only shrug in response, her previous aggravation gone. Honestly, she’d only met the girl once, and not even a prodigy like her would’ve been able to determine her thought process with just one session. “I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I’m a bit more surprised you never figured it out.”

That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” she crossed her arms. How could she put this gently? “I mean, you’ve known her for a while, haven’t you?” Slowly, he nodded. “And you’re way more into the wealthy and powerful than Danny, and, come on, Sam’s an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian Goth.” She sent him a pointed look. “Goth clothing and vegetarian food aren’t cheap, you know.”

Tucker could only grimace, knowing she had a point. “I know who the Mansons are, but I’ve never seen Sam in any of the pictures taken of her family’s sophisticated parties. And, really, would you seriously take a look at her parents and go, ‘Yep, no doubt. These preppy, cheerful folks are definitely related to cynical, brooding Sam Manson.’” He defended himself, and judging by Jazz’s expression, he knew she concurred. Then, he added, almost as an afterthought, “And honestly, I legit thought she basically ate grass and mud, so…”

Sympathising with him, Jazz put a soothing hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly at him. At first he returned the gesture, before furrowing his brow in concentration. Something wasn’t right... “Wait, how do you know any of this? How do you even know Sam?”

“Ah, Danny and I ran into her and her dad last Saturday at that new Vegetarian Mexican restaurant.”

The bespectacled young man couldn’t do much but blink in astonishment. Then, suddenly, he let himself fall to his knees, crouching down before crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. “How can I possibly be that out of the loop?!”

Jazz flashed him a meek smile in response as she lowered herself to his level; literally. The tug in his lips turned into a full blown smirk as a devious thought came to him. “Was there UST between the two?”

The older girl let out a loud cackle at his question. “Oh, you have no idea!”

With a ‘hm’, he settled for a content smile that Jazz knew was only half-hearted. “That’s enough for me...for now.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jazz, trying to joke, but the way she was looking at him made it clear she didn’t buy his attempts to lighten up the mood.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, huh?” She offered softly. “You speak so fondly of her, and she seemed to know you well enough when we talked about you the other day. I’m sure she’ll come clean to you if you let her know you feel hurt over not knowing who she is.”

Normally he hated when Jazz psychoanalysed the situation, more so if it involved him. But now he couldn’t help but feel grateful for having the eldest Fenton’s advice and support. “Yeah, I...I think I’ll do that.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back, “You’re welcome.” The quiet atmosphere soon dissipated when she got back up on her feet as she dusted herself off. “Well, we’d better find something that’ll hint us on the witches’ hideout!”

Getting up from the ground as well, Tucker watched as Jazz pulled out the map from her backpack at the same time as she leafed through her book using just her thumb, that girl’s ability to multitask was both impressive and unnerving. She was clearly searching for a clue to get them started on their quest. Rolling his eyes fondly at her, he started fidgeting with his PDA, looking for clues of his own through the best way he knew; technology.

Printed books and maps were fine and all, but it didn’t take long for them to become outdated. With the Internet and his trusty PDA, Tucker always had the latest information in the palm of his hand. Literally. As his eyes scanned over dozens of articles from the day before to several decades prior, his eyes landed on one story in particular.

Gasping, he called out to Jazz. The girl looked up from her own research to see Tucker motioning for her to come closer with his hand. Curious, she did just that. The moment she was within touching distance, he handed the PDA to her. “Look!”

She squinted her eyes on the screen. What appeared was an old newspaper article, around thirty years old. When she read it over, however, her eyes widened. “Is this what I think it is?” She whispered in disbelief, as she turned to Tucker, who was smirking.

“You’d better believe it!” Snatching the device from her hands, he began scrolling down and zooming in on certain fragments of the article. “It’s a news segment dedicated to two rangers’ retelling!” He exclaimed, his eyes not once looking away from the screen. “According to them, a few days before the interview with the newspaper, they were patrolling around the woods when they came upon what appeared to be a garden entirely made up of mandrake! Which took them aback because, first, that was a restricted area to the public; and second, mandrake usually grows in Mediterranean weather!

“Since it was getting late, they decided to investigate the following day first thing in the morning. But when they tried getting to the garden, they found they couldn’t. Somehow, whenever they thought they were getting closer, they kept getting lost and further away, something that was odd because they’d both been working as rangers, walking through the woods, for more than twenty years!” He finished, looking far more excited at the prospect of their research than he’d been before. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Her hands clasped in front of her beaming face, Jazz could only nod eagerly. “Mandrake is one of the plants that are most popularly associated with witches and magic, and the rangers kept getting lost because they’d found a patch of mandrake and the witches wanted to keep them away in order to protect their secret!”

“And you said Internet searches were only going to lead us to Satanist sites.” He flashed her a shit-eating grin, feeling proud of himself.

“Ugh, knock it off!” She playfully shoved him away, before growing serious again. Her joy being replaced by uncertainty. “Just a question, though?”

“What?”

“How are we going to find this mandrake patch? It’s been over thirty years! And if the witches were able to make two seasoned rangers wander aimlessly through the forest, what chances do we have of finding it ourselves?”

Tucker opened his mouth, only to close it again, realising he didn’t have an answer to her question. Yep, that could definitely be a problem. “Well, the rangers didn’t know they were facing off against a group of spellcasting women; we do.” He tried steering the conversation in the right direction. “What do we know about witches?” She was about to speak when he cut her off, “ Aside from the obvious.”

Bringing a fist to her chin, Jazz began to revise everything she’d learned on them ever since Danny shared his latest plan with them. “Hm, Danny said witches used to be able to summon ghosts from the Ghost Zone and make them cross over to Earth. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Hm, it might.” Tucker replied, the gears already turning in his head. “You know how every ghost has its own ecto-signature?”

“Yeah?”

“What if the witches have something like that?” He suggested, his mind already focused on the possibilities.

Jazz gasped, her eyes widening at the possibility. “Then maybe we could create our own version of the ghost radar, except that instead of ghosts, it’d latched onto a witch’s own signature!” She added, practically bouncing up and down.

“That way, we could lead the radar to someplace with a particularly strong magical signature, and therefore guide us to the mandrake patch without getting lost!” Tucker continued, equally excited.

“Which would then allow us to track any witch that comes to the garden.” Jazz said.

“And eventually lead us to their hideout!” Tucker finished. The two of them high-fived the other, reeling from the revelation. They were so hyped they almost forgot to address the most important part of the plan.

“So,” Tucker started, slipping his PDA back in his pocket. “What about Danny? Do we tell him about this?”

Against her better judgement, Jazz shook her head. “No. I believe it’d be best if we don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Arguably, this affects him much more than it does us.”

“I know, but we need to give him an edge over the witches. An ace up his sleeve! Something to use as leverage if the queen ultimately turns against him.” She explained. “Telling him of our plan before we even have a clue would only make things more difficult for him.” Noticing Tucker’s unsure expression, she rushed to reassure him. “I promise, the moment we know where they gather, we’ll tell him. Okay?”

Tucker didn’t look convinced. Excluding Danny in something this important just felt wrong! But, on second thought, Jazz was his older sister; she’d been taking care of and protecting him long before she learned about the accident. Jazz was always looking out for her baby brother’s best interests. Sighing, he gave in. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Tucker.” She grinned in appreciation before she looked down at her phone and noticed the time. “Now, come on! We still have to get back before Danny finishes his classes and notices we’re nowhere to be found. We don’t want him to get suspicious, do we?”

As he followed her back through the way they’d come from, Tucker could only hope their decision wouldn't bite them in the ass.

..........

“Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Because we needed to meet up and the You Mocha Me Crazy was closed today.” Tucker smirked smugly at her from the seat across from her; a mixture of grease and sauce dripping from his fingertips. “My, what a tragedy!” He lamented in mock sadness.

Her body leaned forward and her elbow propped up on the wobbly table, Sam sent him a nasty look. “Knock it off! You like the café and you know it.”

The techno geek shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll admit, they make good sandwiches. But nothing can beat my love for the Nasty Burger. It was about time I dragged you here for a change.”

Danny was sure the Goth girl was about to deliver a very colourful string of words their friend’s way hadn’t he intervened. “Remember, Sam,” he warned, putting a hand on her shoulder, making her look at him instead, “this is a kid-friendly space.” He took her huffing and crossing her arms over her chest as she slumped on her seat as a victory. “Look on the bright side,” he pointed at the trail of food in front of her, “at least they serve vegetarian menus.”

“It was a pleasant surprise.” She admitted, looking down at the tofu-soy melt she’d been served. “I honestly thought their only options would be a bunch of so-called salads with more meat than lettuce.” Picking the sandwich up, her face wrinkled in disgust when she brought it to her face. Averting her eyes, she promptly set it back down, before sliding the trail away from her. “That being said, that thing’s soggier than a quarterback’s socks after a football game.”

“Then it should be just like you like it!” The techno geek quipped, causing Sam to fling some of his own fries at him in retaliation. Tucker could’ve tried shielding his face from the assault, but that would've meant dropping his burger, leaving him no choice but to become an easy target. “You’re gonna pay for those fries.” He deadpanned, his scowl only deepened when the Goth girl blew him a raspberry in response.

“I believe it’d be more accurate to say football players’ socks are stiff after a game, giving the poor hygiene of the guys at our high school,” Danny pointed out matter-of-factly, trying to keep the peace between the two, before noticing the possible innuendo thanks to the help of Tucker and Sam’s meaningful looks. “But I get what you mean.” He finished lamely.

Changing her position so she was looking directly at him, her face leaning on the hand resting on the table, Sam raised an amused eyebrow in his direction. “No offence, Danny, but teenage boys aren’t exactly known for their impeccable hygiene.” With a noncommittal shrug she leaned back against her seat. “There isn’t much of a difference between you guys and pigs; you’re both more voracious than a pack of hyenas and your body odor is arguably stronger than a pig-pen’s stench.” She pinched her nose with her fingers for emphasis, the smirk never leaving her face.

Both guys seated with her shot her matching glares. “I resent that.” They said in unison, making her laugh.

“FYI, Sam,” Tucker said between bites of his Mega Meaty Nasty Burger, “Danny and I had to learn the wonders of personal hygiene much sooner than any other guy at our school.” Setting the remainder of his burger down on its trail, his arm resting close to it, he leaned closer to Sam, as if he were about to share a secret. “For all the cruel things the girls said about us behind our backsー”

“Or to our faces.” Danny reminded him with a pained mumble.

“Or to our faces.” Tucker agreed. “Despite everything, they never, not even once, complained about the way we smelled.” He leaned back against his seat with a triumphant grin, the burger already in his hands. “That’s way more than the jocks ever got.”

“Now that you mention it, Tuck,” the blue-eyed boy started, “I think the closest we ever got to a compliment from the A-list girls was when Paulina, grossed out by Dash trying to flirt with her all sweaty after P.E., screeched, ‘Get away from me! Not even those losers of Foley and Fenton smell nearly as bad as you!’” He mimicked in a very whiny, high-pitched voice.

While Danny’s imitation got him and Tucker in stitches, it got Sam thinking. Did he say Paulina? She didn’t want to just assume the Paulina she knew was the only one in town, but she couldn’t help but think of her. “Uh, guys?” She waited until they gave her their full attention. “Um, sorry if this is weird, but I just realised I never got around to asking you; which high school did you go to?”

“Casper High.” They replied at the same time. “Why?”

Okay...so they were talking about the Paulina she knew. The Latina wasn’t kidding when she said she used to be the queen bee at Casper High when she and Star studied there, if Danny and Tucker’s retelling, as the lowest end of the food chain, was anything to go by. “Um...no reason, really. I was just curious, that’s all.” Not feeling up to compromising her, for once, plausible answer, she quickly tried changing the subject. “If what you’re telling me is true, though, how come you were such prodigies in the art of not smelling like garbage that’s spent way too much time under the sun?”

“Ghosts.” Tucker replied simply. Panicking, Danny discreetly kicked him in the shins, the only reason his best friend didn’t yelp in pain was the warning glare the raven-haired boy was sending him. He was about to ask him what he wanted when Sam supplied the answer.

“Ghosts?” She echoed, tilting her head to the side.

Flinching at the realisation of what he’d just said, he immediately tried to cover his slip-up. “Y-yeah! Ghosts!” He vaguely registered Danny rubbing his temple with two fingers from the corner of his eye. “You...you remember Danny’s a Fenton, right?”

“Yeah?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow, while Danny’s head shot up at that, wondering what his best friend was up to.

“You see,” Tucker said with the same tone of voice a teacher would use when enlightening his students on his subject, “since Danny’s folks are ghost hunters, ever since the spooks started haunting Amity Park, Mr. and Mrs. F. have been a little...say, trigger-happy. So every time they thought a ghost was near, we’d accidentally end up covered in whatever goop they were developing. Hence, why we were always taking showers.”

Catching onto what he’s best friend was up to, Danny was quick to add. “In fact, my sister used to have long, flowing hair, but ended up cutting it to a pixie cut after one too many accidents.”

“That’s...weird as fuck.” Sam said, and for a moment the two men feared she’d seen through them. Until she bobbed one shoulder up and down as she readied herself for round two against her tofu-soy melt. “But I guess it makes sense.”

“It does?” Danny asked, before Tucker’s foot painfully stomping on top of his brought him back to his senses. “I-I mean! Of course it makes sense...well, it shouldn’t, but that’s my family for you!” He made a helpless gesture as he shot her a sheepish grin her way.

Their antics made her frown in suspicion, “Are you guys okay? You’re acting weird, and that’s saying something.”

“We’re perfectly fine!” Tucker rushed in to say, at the same time as Danny tried with, “Just tired!” They shared furtive glances at each other when the dissonance registered in their brains. Then they tried again, only for Tucker to squeak, “Just tired!” at the same time as Danny assured, “We’re perfectly fine!”

A little creeped out by what was taking place right in front of her, the girl munched on her sandwich painfully slowly. “Uh huh…” She drawled, not buying it. She swallowed her food before addressing them again, her hazel-eyes strained on the two nervous-looking boys. “So, which one is it? Are you perfectly fine, or are you tired?”

Gulping loudly, Danny chose to speak for the two of them, seeing as their usual ‘bronnection’ was failing them. “Come on, Sam. We obviously mean we’re a little tired, with all our assignments and whatnot, but overall, we’re perfectly fine!” The halfa tried alleviating the tension with a motion of his hand. “That’s just your usual college student life. What’re you gonna do? Right, Tuck?” He elbowed his bespectacled friend, urging for support.

The African American young man started, “Oh! Um...sure” He stammered at first. “Totally. Nothing going on but your typical college life problems.” He let out an awkward laugh.

Sam just kept staring at them just as intently as before, her intertwined hands resting on the table. With her eyes narrowed on them like a gangster deciding whether to kill or torture a snitch that’d ratted them out to the cops. The pair of best friends could barely contain the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Finally she shook her head and, for a moment, they were sure she’d made her choice; they were dead. “We definitely can’t come back here. The food’s so bad it’s rotting your brains!” She shook her head in mock concern. “And it’s not like you had many to begin with…”

“Wait a minute!” Tucker protested while Danny let out a relieved sigh, “You leave the Nasty Burger out of this!”

“I just say it as I see it.” Sam countered in a sing-song voice. It was so easy to get a rise out of him, she just couldn’t resist.

As his two friends started bickering, Danny limited himself to watching them, amused and content to have them in his life. A part of him still couldn’t believe how easily Sam had filled the space he didn’t even know was empty. His whole life he thought Tucker’s companionship was all he neededーexcept for his early high school days when he dreamed of being part of the A-listers, but he’d since wisened up. With ghost-hunting overcomplicating his life, he’d long given up on expanding his social circle outside of his sister and best friend, and serious girlfriends were an all-time no-no, but in just a few meetings, the Goth changed that.

Her individualism and strong moral compass were the perfect addition to his dry sense of humour and awkwardness, and Tucker’s optimism and desire to do something big. It was like they balanced each other out. Sam’s own sense of justice aligned itself nicely with Danny’s own need to do the right thing and protect others, while she shared the need to stand outーalbeit in different waysーwith Tucker, as opposed to his efforts of blending in. Even their differences were a great addition to their friendship, for they forced them to open their eyes to new possibilities they might have overlooked.

Danny wished Clockwork would just stop time right at that very moment. There, in the middle of the crowded and not always sanitary Nasty Burger, surrounded by teens complaining about the struggles of high school and underpaid workers, everything was perfect. Being there with Tucker and Sam, watching them bicker and mediating when things threatened to get out of hand, felt like things were as they should have always been.

They weren’t even there to talk about witches! Somewhere along the way hanging out with Sam just became normal; the right thing to do. And to think not that long ago he didn’t even know she existed…

Watching her bring a hand to the shaved half her face, as if she were about to push away some hair blocking her view only to stop in mid-air and sheepishly put her hand back down on the table when she remembered there was nothing to push awayーmaybe she still wasn’t used to missing half of her raven locksーwarmed his heart. For a moment, she redirected her focus on him, probably sensing his eyes on her, and she flushed prettily, causing heat to creep up on Danny’s own cheeks as a result.

They immediately averted their eyes and focused on something else; Sam looked back at Tuckerーwho was trying very hard to keep his impish grin off his faceーand Danny found himself looking at the ceiling. He’d never noticed there were pieces of gum up there...

For someone who’d sworn off romance after sophomore year of high school, he was doing a very poor job at steering clear of it. Just like the route his treacherous mind had taken the other day as he locked eyes with Lady Arcana…

The halfa could feel his heart squeezing in his chest just by looking into those heliotrope orbs of hers. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew not even his glowing gaze could compare to them in uniqueness. Regrettably, the usual frostiness he found in them hindered their beauty. But now that she was staring at him with great esteem and, dare he hope, a hint of admiration, it was as if spring had finally arrived and had defrosted her gaze; revealing the field of lilacs hidden underneath.

The content smile tugging at her lips illuminated her entire visage, accentuating that tantalising beauty he chose to overlook due to the rocky nature of their relationship. In all his years coming back and forth between the Ghost Zone and Amity Park, he was sure he’d never met anyone who represented the beauty of both worlds quite like she did; and he was a halfa!

Her amethyst eyes and her paranormal nature made her stand out even in a dimension populated by powerful entities, each possessor of a unique gift. The way the eery light coming from the ectoplasmic swirls around them reflected on her slick, black hair gave her an appropriately otherworldly glowーso beautiful it eclipsed anything he’d ever seen before. It was almost like she belonged in the Ghost Zone.

But her personality wasn’t like any he’d ever encountered before, let alone in a spirit. He hadn’t realised it until now, or rather, he hadn't allowed himself to see it, but there was no denying the glimpses of something incredibly humane within her. As unusual a sight it might be, her love for her carnivorous plant wasn’t any different from that of a little girl playing with her puppy. The care she felt for it was evident in the curve of her smile whenever she glanced down at her little, potted friend. Her love and loyalty for her people were admirable as well. He’d been lying if he said he hadn’t been taken aback by her insistence of staying behind in order to protect her two subjects. As vain as it sounded, he’d only seen that kind of dedication and sacrifice in himselfーright when he took off to take on Pariah Dark. She’d even saved him, a ghost! Her alleged worst enemy! And all because she saw him in need and couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing.

He could see it now. Lady Arcana represented the best of both worlds. It was like she belonged with him…

Eyes widening in shock, he quickly tried to shake off the strange feelings taking residence in his core. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge Lady Arcana, but she was still a witch! It’d be incredibly foolish of him to ignore centuries of beef between their people just for a pretty face. Besides, even if ghosts and witches weren’t enemies, he still could never date her. It’d be too dangerous.

He had to snap out of those delusions, pronto. “Lady Arcana.” He called out to her. A few seconds passed and she said nothing, causing him to worry. Now that he looked closely at her, she seemed a little flushed; what if something was wrong with her?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though, unbeknownst to him, he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” She exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, which only made him worry more for her sake. She was frantically shaking her hands before her and her cheeks only took on a deeper shade of red.

Looking at him like she’d been caught doing something bad, the witch cleared her throat, although it looked a little forced. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly.

The halfa’s eyes shot open at that. Duh! What was he thinking!? Of course not seeing their queen return from the Ghost Zone would cause an uproar among her clan! “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Lady Arcana said softly, and Danny could feel his heart swelling at her words. Unbidden, his expression fell a little when she put a little distance between the two. She was about to cast the spell that would send her home when his voice acted before his brain had time to catch up to it. “Wait!”

Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of himself, he couldn’t keep the seed of hope from being planted when she gave him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

Danny was pretty sure he’d just smiled appreciatively at her, which was why he didn’t understand when she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!”

“Wait, Lady Arcana!” He called out to her once more, hating how desperate he sounded.

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

The way her expression softened was enough to bring forth emotions he long believed dead and buried. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

And with that, she was gone.

The snow-white haired ghost kept staring off into the distance even after she was long gone, his mind still trying to process the day’s events. But there was something that, hard as he might, he just couldn’t make sense of. She’d been able to grab him while he was intangible, but how? At first he thought it was a specific spell or something, but that theory was soon proven mistaken when not even Lady Arcana seemed to know how she’d been able to touch him.

Only one thing was for sure; he needed answers. And he had a pretty good idea where he’d be able to get them.

Danny’s musings were abruptly interrupted by the sight of his best friend pointing a fry accusingly at Sam, “When were you going to tell me you’re rich?”

A heavy silence suddenly filled their booth. It was like someone had forced a horrible screech out of a vinyl disc by scratching on its surface. Looking over at Sam, the halfa was sure she was about to drop her food, too stunned to even move. The way her eyes had popped open would’ve been comical, hadn’t it been for the tense atmosphere.

Shaking her head lightly, the Goth girl finally regained her senses, her shocked face morphing itself into a scowl. “Say it a little louder, Tucker.” She grumbled. “I don’t think they’ve heard you all the way to Siberia.”

Now it was Tucker’s turn to scowl. “Uh, no. You don’t get to be mad at me for saying it aloud.” He slumped back on his seat, turning his head away from her. “Not when you never even told me yourself; I had to find out through Jazz.”

“Jazz?” Danny repeated, confused. “When did you talk about this with Jazz?”

“Uh...we were texting each other and it came up.” He shrugged his concerns off. “But that’s not important right now. What matters,” he said hotly as he shot the brunette a pointed look, “is that we’ve been friends for over a year and you never told me! How come Danny and Jazz get to know you’re part of the Mansons but I don’t?!”

The youngest Fenton was about to try and explain things to the techno geek when Sam beat him to it, “Tucker, it’s not like I planned this! I was just having dinner with my dad when Danny and his sister appeared at the restaurant.” She explained, exasperated. “And honestly? The only reason Danny knows is because Jazz already did. It’s not like I saw them come in and waved at them like, ‘Hey, guys! I’m here with my Hella wealthy father! You wanna come with to our yacht in the Mediterranean?’” She droned in an overly cheery, sugary-sweet voice, her lashes fluttering excessively.

“You have a yacht in the Mediterranean?” Both boys asked, incredulous.

Her scowl deepened. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Yeah, well..,” His shoulders slouched, Tucker could only sulk, hurt. “Could’ve still told me. I thought we were friends, Sam.”

His words were like a knife piercing through her heart. They were friends, weren’t they? Despite their differences and some of his most obnoxious flaws, Tucker was still the first person to ever approach her without ulterior motives in mind. Even after they’d made it clear they could never work as a couple, he stayed with her. Annoying he may be, he was still the first friend she’d ever made on her own, and she loved him for it. He was right; he didn’t deserve to be hurt due to her secretive nature.

With a sigh, she scrubbed her face with one hand, feeling remorseful. “Tuck, I’m...I’m really sorry.” She confessed, earning the techno geek’s full attention. “You’re right, even if the secret was mine to tell, I should’ve let you know sooner.” She sighed once more, unable to meet his eyes. Sam hated allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of others; growing up, she’d learned to depend on no one but herself, therefore, showing her helpless, weaker, side to others was incredibly hard to do. “Listen, you’re the first friend I’ve made in a very long time. I was afraid of losing you.”

Although his posture was still guarded, Tucker couldn’t deny her words piqued his interest. “What do you mean, Sam? How is me knowing who you are going to lead to you losing me?”

“I sort of agree with Tucker.” Danny commented. “If anything, it’d bring you two closer.”

“Right?”

Chuckling mirthlessly, the Goth shook her head. Both boys flinched when they saw the pain reflected in her hazel eyes. “Look, being me isn’t easy, okay? I’m not saying life in general ain’t shitty, because that’d be lying, but my life is especially complicated.

“I grew up trying to live up to insanely high expectations, a childhood no kid should ever be forced to go through. I was constantly reminded of the near impossibility that was me making real friends, and I guess, once I reached puberty, it just made me cynical.” Sam admitted quietly, not looking up from her trail of food. “By the time I could try making friends of my own, I was already convinced the moment they learned of my family’s wealth, they’d start seeing me as their personal credit card, instead of my own person who deserves to be loved and accepted just for being who I am.”

Although she desperately tried to hide it, Danny and Tucker immediately exchanged concerned glances the instant she sniffled. Their hearts broke in two for the girl sitting with them. Sure, they’d been Casper High’s laughing stock from the beginning to end of their high school experience, but they always had each other. Sam...Sam spent the majority of her life alone. It was impossible not to feel for her.

“In...in the end,” God, how she hated the way her voice shook! “I decided hiding that part of me was easier. I wanted friends who liked me for me, and having a Black MasterCard was surely going to make things difficult.”

“You have a Black MasterCard?” Tucker accidentally let out. When Danny’s neon green glare started burning a hole in his skull, he backtracked. “I’m sorry, Sam. I mean...I guess I mean I’m sorry.”

“You are? But I’m the one who’s kept you in the dark this long!”

“Yeah, and it hurts.” He admitted. “But it’s obvious you had your reasons and after hearing them, man, I can’t blame you. I would also hide all that cash if I were you. Even though the temptation of flaunting my own private jet in front of all the asholes who used to shove me into lockers would be too great.”

Despite herself, his joke made her laugh. “Thanks Tuck. Friends?” She rubbed her eyes to wipe the imaginary tears away. She was relieved to know she didn’t cry; crying was something Sam Manson just didn’t do. It would’ve been mortifying.

He leaned over to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re still friends. But you’re paying for our next meal.” That earned him a playful punch on the arm from the Goth, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.

Shaking her head good-naturedly, she scoffed. “Deal.”

After that, the three kept talking amongst themselves. About everything and nothing. Nearing the end of their meal, Danny and Tucker were too engrossed reminiscing about their high school days per her request. Admittedly, just hearing the traumatising experiences they’d been through made her feel suddenly grateful for never attending the dreaded place herself. Still, after the tenth story retelling how some jackass had forced Danny to eat his jockstrap after losing a betーew!ー her mind wandered elsewhere.

Her last encounter with Phantom sent her reeling. The way they both complemented each other when they worked as a team was astounding. It reminded her of Grandma Ida’s tales of how things used to be before the ghosts forced them into hiding, when the two species were practically symbiotic of each other.

For the first time since she received his letter, she found herself trusting him. Most importantly, a part of herself came to wish she could indeed trust him. Perhaps all the centuries apart and resentment had clouded their people’s minds. Maybe they were really better off together than separated. She had to admit her knowledge on ghosts was very limited aside from what she’d been taught her entire life, and if there was something Sam was, that was inquisitive. She never took anything by face value, so why did she do just that with ghosts?

She needed to learn more about them. She needed to act like an individual, rather than a bee awaiting orders from the queen, and do a little research of her own.

She needed answers and, crazy as it might be, she knew where to find them.

“Hey, Danny?” Her voice stopped short Tucker’s retelling of his hellish experience dating the second most popular girl in school. When Danny’s baby blue eyes met hers, she almost lost her nerve. Almost. “Um, would you mind taking me to FentonWorks?”

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fic #my fic #your heart #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #Paulina Sanchez #star dp #Amethyst Ocean #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen au #witch queen! sam #enemies to friends to lovers

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