#Milo is all like hey whats this map in your room about

[samssims]

[goldafterglow]

embellished lungs

Summary: Ezra buys a pretty thing for a pretty thing.

Request: hc about what renders Ezra speechless 😶 - @lose-eels (this is not even what you asked for but fuckin here ig im sorry sgkfjdshg)

Pairing: Ezra x reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Warnings: a big fat drabble?, very really soft, not beta read and tbh barely even normal read i read this maybe twice oops

Author’s Note: i almost put this just like under the ask but I’m not gonna sit here and act like this is a drabble bc i’m a clown. i don’t want to talk about it. and spitting this out bc I was soft for Ezra and @mrpascals made me

Gif Cred: my wife and my baby @pascalplease

masterlist | taglist modifications

He spies it in the open market while he’s stocking up on supplies.

The day is hot, the Sun bearing down on its disciples with a violent red fury, but it’s light is strong, bright. Everything is reflective, hot to the touch from boiling in the heat, and all of the creatures begin to melt together like dyed wax to form one big discernable blob, if you really squint. Ezra’s sweat escapes the barrier of his brows and leaks past his lashes, dragging across his eyes and stinging a little, blurring his vision and dripping onto his arms, but he doesn’t care. He’s far too exhilarated.

The market in itself is absolutely brilliant to him; he’s always been enthralled by this, by people and pretty things, and to be completely surrounded by both felt like something akin to sensory overload. His heart is racing at the sight of people traversing the dirt road, loitering and browsing through produce colored so vibrantly he wonders if the bright red apples and deep indigo berries have been dipped in the tinted glow of fairies that dance in the forest. And he’s utterly taken by the art and trinkets. He’s always had a little soft spot for art - a tender, exposed section of his beating flesh that is so sensitive, so delicate and so easy to provoke. And right now, he seems like he’s subject to a battering ram, pounding against his chest in the best way possible.

His eyes dart around quickly as he tries his best to take everything in. He finds himself cherishing every little interaction, every stranger whose shoulder he is forced to brush in an attempt to make his way through the market, every vendor that begs to him, calls to him to try “just one last berry sir. I’m sure your lover will be delighted by the raspberries from yesterday’s harvest.” He ended up buying a quaint six ounces just so that he could feed them to you. But that would be a treat for later.

And just like that, he is thinking of you. The prettiest, most beautiful thing. A sculpture with imperfections so perfect that he knows it must have taken eons to craft you out of gold and diamonds and the soft fluff of hummingbird feathers and butterfly wings. You are art, a walking, breathing, touchable piece that he gets to admire up close. It’s a privilege, really, to have been gifted with Kevva’s finest handiwork.

As his pupils peruse the stands, admiring his surroundings, they suddenly become frozen in place, permanently stuck on a little trinket that’s caught his attention: a necklace. The gem sitting in the center isn’t aurelac; it’s much more vibrant, much more dramatic and almost rainbow when he looks at it from different angles. The chain isn’t long, and knowing you the gem would fall right between your collarbones. He can already envision you wearing it, like a child flicking watercolors onto the Venus de Milo, but he wants to see his deep green paint draped around your shoulders. The way he sees it when you wear his clothing, when you’re adorned with bruises of his passion like stars adorn the sky, when you wear him. It’s intoxicating, seeing that he’s had any impact on your life and that you parade it around like a trophy. That you think about him without him prompting you to do so - not that he isn’t constantly in your presence. But he wants to buy it just so that he can see you wear it. Perhaps even only wear it.

He’s already thinking about how fucking gorgeous you would look in it. He is thinking about putting it on you, tugging on it ever so lightly in a way that signals to you - that is, rather than exerting any true force on you - that he wants a kiss. Perhaps pulling on it a little harder so that metal bites your skin and you can feel it, feel him digging into the soft flesh of your neck. Now he’s imagined a thousand scenarios in which he can have his way with you just by getting you to wear this piece, and he has to purchase it.

When the vendor finally hands it to him, packaged with care and placed deep into the hollow of a black velvet box, he finds that it barely fits in his pocket. He doesn’t care, though, because it’s too exquisite an accessory to be thrown in with the other supplies and it’s too precious for him to take it out of the box. He’s excited when he comes back to the pod, back home where you are.

Home is you.

He assumes you must’ve heard him come in, the pod door loud and rambunctious as he dumps the bags into the center of the pod space and then crawls in himself - it was hard enough with two arms, nonetheless one. He lets out a sight as if to let the excitement drain out his vessels and into the atmosphere of the cockpit, mingling with the peace and solitude to create a soft buzz that zings through his ears and vibrates his eyes. The exhilaration from being the market was utterly electric, but he is home now. He can crawl into you, let you absorb into him, and he likes how you can make his heart race a million miles and yet also pacify him, a cold compress to his aching soul to help reduce inflammation. He wants to maintain that semblance of the intricate pastel harmony, adorned in lilac and peach hues. So he stands in the middle of the cockpit and closes his eyes, lets himself sway to the rhythm of his lungs for a moment. Just a fraction of solitude, and he doesn’t mind because ever since he met you he has never felt lonely, not even when he’s alone. He always feels you with him.

Once his head has cleared, he palms at his pocket where the little black box still resides, as if to check that he hadn’t dreamt up some fantasy ornament that would look so perfect on you. It’s still there; of course it is, and he feels foolish for thinking that the pretty butterflies would have fluttered it out and flown it away, but sometimes he wonders if the same thing will ever happen to you. If one morning he will wake up and you will have migrated with the birdies, off to seek true warmth because you’re not real, because nothing so good as you could ever be caged by him.

He steps into your shared bedroom and spies you with your back to the entrance. The room is cool, but you’ve elected to wear his shirt, even foregoing pants. His favorite outfit of yours, and he knows you know it. You’re wearing headphones, something he’d picked up for you on your last supply run, and he can tell you’re playing one of those instrumental stations you so adore listening to when you were working. A mutely-colored map is stretched out onto the desk, and he’s not even sure you can focus the music because your mind is moving faster than your poor hand can keep up as you mark up a new dig site. He almost feels bad for interrupting you while you’re in such deep concentration, your forehead smashed into wrinkles without even noticing, but Ezra cannot resist his greed for your attention. Ever so gently, he places his hand on your shoulder from behind so as not to startle you.

You almost immediately register the delicate touch, turning the radio off and pulling your headphones off your ears so you can give this kind artist your undivided attention - Kevva herself knows he's earned it. You turn your head to face him, craning your neck back so you can take his softly smiling depiction like pressing a plush blanket into your face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you coo, letting your pen fall tumultuously from your hand. The sound of it clanging against the table and then rolling around to a stop fills the room, but you can’t hear it; Ezra is talking now.

“Hey, sweet stardust,” he greets back, voice orange and warm like the heat that simmers under the stars during the summer at midnight.

Comfortable.

 “Hey” was never his preferred salutation, and he’d tried to omit it from his vocabulary for so long, but he started to notice that he likes it when you say to him. Like a little pearl of your voice, so sweet like honey with the honeycomb still mixed in, a little grainy and so cheeky.

“Did you get everything we need?” you ask, beginning to stand to that you can press a hand to his chest, grounding him to the pod and to your sanctuary soul. Ezra grins wide, unable to hide his excitement at your words.

“I in fact exceeded our needs, sweet rose bud,” he says with a pride that fills up your chest and makes you want to hold him tight because you love when he gets giddy like this, with the childlike enthusiasm of showing your parents the shitty drawing you made or your ugly macaroni art. Ezra is light, his tone airy. “I happened to spot a gem that reminded me of your vision and I couldn’t resist the urge to get it.”

You brow furrows a little, not out of confusion but out of curiosity. Ezra’s taste has always inspired you, and you knew his never ending quest for art is always in an attempt to find beauty in everything. You don’t even have to look at it to know that it will be stunning because his stamp of “pretty” approval is your gold standard.

He pulls the box out and opens it facing you so that you can get a good look, really admire it, and you are already taken by the shimmering pendant.

“Oh Ezra, it's - it’s utterly magnificent,” you gush, and he can spot that little glimmer in your eyes that you get when you’re looking at something that you’re enamored with; they way you look when you’re gazing at him. You raise your chin to look at him, his cheeks rosy with delight and sweet eyes crinkled at the corners. “Put it on me.”

It’s not so much of a demand as it is a gentle instruction; you know he wants to, know he’s been thinking about it since he bought it, and you want to be open to him. You want to invite him into your heart, inside of the flower garden of your chest, with open arms because he deserves to feel wanted.

You help him pull the chain out of the bottom of the box, keeping one end in your right hand and letting him take the clasp in his left. He wills himself to move slowly, to savor every little stimulation you send through his skin as he steps behind you. His fingers press against your clavicle, tracing along the bone before traveling up over the valley of your shoulder, tips of his hands brushing against your throat. He is feeling you, mapping out your body because he’ll never get to see an angel in his life but he’s certain you must be the spitting image.

You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and intoxicating as a small film of dampness coats your exposed back and neck. Your right hand rests at the nape of your neck, waiting expectantly, but you don’t rush him. He takes his sweet, sugary time, because the surface of your skin feels like he’s running his fingers through a field of silicone needles, firm but harmless as they stimulate a sensation he never knew he could feel before he touched you for the first time. You’re addictive, the best high he’s ever gotten, and he almost lets his hand lose all abandon and travel so carefully down the front of your body, palming your breast along the way and pressing right into your diaphragm before he keeps going down, down, down…

Almost.

But he will save it for a later time, especially since he’d been fantasizing about you wearing the necklace like a carefully chiseled bust is adorned with sashes. So finally, after what feels like hours of roaming and teasing, you feel that calloused, worn sensation of your lover’s fingers seeking solace against yours. You pin your breath to your lungs, not daring to let it go as you wait for the heavy release of his hand indicating that the necklace is secure. But even once you feel it, even as you let your right hand fall down at your side, Ezra does not take his hand off of you. You don’t want him to.

Slowly, so that he never has to cease his touch, you turn to face him. You’re still looking down at the pendant, in awe of how the gem rests so perfectly between your collarbones. You can’t see Ezra’s adoring gaze, his completely awestruck fixation on how ethereal you are to him. Like you’re emitting a golden glow, too hot to touch and yet begging, inviting his fingers to feel and press and hold. 

Celestial.

He feels his emotions expand in his stomach, diaphragm threatening to spasm. His hand trails up to your chin, palming your jaw as he tenderly lifts your line of sight so that he can see your pretty eyes.

“You’re divine,” he mumbles to you, not wanting to disrupt the tight silence, so tense he’s afraid of speaking too loud lest it break and snap against his cheek leaving an angry raised brand.

Overwhelmed with appreciation, you balance your hands on his shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting it linger so you can savor the honeysuckle dew on his skin. “I love it,” you whisper with a grin.

Ezra giggles.

When you pull back to face him proper, his face is utterly red. His smile reaches the lobes of his ears, bashful and boyish like his belly has just been tickled by the sweetest of baby chicks, and he can barely get a word out. He can’t speak. His mind is in overdrive, completely inundated with a blistering adoration for you and your approval because you said you loved it. His gift is not a splash of children’s watercolors; it is a clean swipe of gold running along your jaw, accenting your beauty and emphasizing just how exquisite you are to him.

“Yeah?” he managed, a soft giggle still passing his lips like the first cries of a baby deer, the first flutters of a newly hatched butterfly.

Adorable.

You can’t resist the urge to giggle back, placing a hand at the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a true kiss on his glittery lips. It only lasts seconds, however, because Ezra can’t stop smiling and you can’t stop giggling, so you both settle for the blissful solitude of pressing your foreheads against one another, breathing in each other's air and taking up the same space.

“It’s gorgeous, Ezra. Thank you,” you whisper lightly so that the wisps of air tickle his upper lip, and suddenly he is so inclined as to press his left arm into the small of your back so that you’re so much closer and kiss you the way you deserve; a dynamic series of long, deep, searing kisses that send you to the clouds and drop you into an endless pit of lavish fluff at the same time. You don’t know how he does this, makes you feel like you don’t exist and that there isn’t anything in the world but you and him, and you often wonder if it’s because Ezra is within you, or that your broken parts and his broken parts make some hauntingly majestic sculpture of its own; something better than the fucking Venus de Milo or Athena or Great Sphinx because it should be something so hideous and yet it feels to utterly priceless to you.

It’s precious.

ppl that asked to be tagged: @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @cryptkeepersoul @buckstaposition @the-feckless-wonder @cocoatales @agentpike @cryptkeepersoul

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again, you can join/leave my taglist here :)

[jalapeno-princess]

Back to You

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Exes to lovers

Warnings: insecurities, self doubt

Summary: You had broken up with Mark over four months ago for reasons still unknown to him and as much as he tries to move on, he knows there’s just no getting over you.

Word Count: 4.2k

“You have halo? Cool! I love halo.” Mark hummed softly in response as he motioned for the younger girl to sit down.

“Would you like to play for a little bit? I actually haven’t touched that game in months. I’ll go find us something to snack on while you get it set up.” She beamed up at him while he made his way towards the kitchen.

He began to search through his cupboard for some ramen when he heard his name being called. “Everything okay?” When Mark saw the look of curiosity on her face, he grew confused until he looked at the tv.

“Whose princess? Is it okay if I use her profile? Or should I use yours?” Mark felt his stomach drop. There was a reason why he hadn’t played that game in a while and there it was, like a slap in the face by reality that you were no longer in his life. The two of you broke up over four months ago and as much as he wanted to say the break up was mutual, it was you who decided that you both should go your separate ways. Although it’s been a while and he knew he should’ve been moved on by now, he was still so madly in love with you and holding on to a tiny bit of hope that you would find your way back to him one day.

“Oh, um—you can play on mine.” Alyssa was a very sweet girl. Mark’s friends were tired of him moping around and staying home all the time because he didn’t have the energy nor motivation to go out since you left; so Jinyoung forced him to go on a date and set him up with one of his coworkers. As much as Mark didn’t feel like getting in to a relationship just yet, he felt as if this was the only way he could get over you completely; even if God knows he never wanted to. Ever.

This was the third date they have been on since they were introduced to each other almost a month ago and honestly Mark wasn’t feeling it. She was smart; graduated from college with her bachelor’s degree in political science. She was also very soft spoken and kind, always asked Mark how his day was and gave him her full attention whenever he spoke—if he ever spoke. No matter how nice she was and how obvious she made it that she was developing feelings for him, she wasn’t you.

Nobody could ever take your place in Mark’s life. He was sure of it. Nobody could fill the hole in his chest or patch up his broken heart that you caused when you left him. His mind was now clouded with thoughts of you as he started to cook the ramen and he could feel himself tearing up.

When Mark felt that the bed was now more vacant, and your side of the bed was cold, he stifled back a yawn and took a few moments to wake his body up before making the journey to find you. It was currently 3:15 in the morning and he couldn’t help but feel as if something was wrong. You would never wake up in the wee hours of the morning unless it was to pee or if you got hungry, but you would always bring the food back to bed, so where could you have gone?

Right as he walked out of your shared bedroom, it was then as he heard the sound of guns being shot and cries of aliens that he knew you were playing halo. The newest installment of your favorite video game had just been released and you have been hinting to Mark for weeks that you wanted it for your birthday to which he would laugh at your subtleness.

When he surprised you with the game on top of your own controller and a headset that he knew you’d only use because you wanted to “look like a gamer” and not actually talk to others through it like he did, you were over the moon and you showed him how grateful you were on your knees the rest of that night.

Since you were busy with both work and school, you never had much time to play the game until you got home and even then, you were exhausted to say the least and never had enough energy to even eat; so the game went untouched for a few days. You woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go back to sleep, even if the tight grip on your waist was quite comforting; so you made your way in to the living room and wrapped yourself in to a blanket burrito while quietly turning on the game. Mark giggled softly to himself when he saw how focused you were on the game and how adorable you looked squished between all the pillows.

“Babe.”

You didn’t notice your boyfriend at the edge of the couch until he tapped on your knee to get your attention. “Hey love, sorry did I wake you?” He shook his head and motioned for you to sit up so that he could sit down and immediately pulled you on to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist protectively.

“Your absence is what got me up. I can’t sleep without you. You seem to be having fun though, how long have you been up for?” He propped his chin on your shoulder and you found yourself leaning back in to his embrace. You turned to steal a chaste kiss from the corner of his lips before returning to your game.

“Almost three hours. Once I finish a level I end up starting the next one and I can’t stop. This current level is so frustrating though, if you run out of ammo, you have to run out on the field and find more on your own. How am I supposed to protect myself and look for another weapon without getting killed—“ you were quick to smile in the kiss when Mark turned you around to face him and crashed his lips against yours.

“Couldn’t help myself. You’re so adorable you know that? Tell me more.” You continued to explain everything you’ve done so far, from killing hundreds of aliens to completing missions whilst aboard stolen planes. You were so into describing the game that you failed to notice how Mark was looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes. He looked at you as if you were the creator of the universe. As if you were the one who set all the stars, the sun and the moon in to the sky. Your boyfriend didn’t think it was possible for someone to make slaughtering aliens sound so cute.

You asked Mark if he wanted to head back to sleep but he was quick to disagree and held you tighter against his body. As you continued to play the game, you started to absentmindedly grind against Mark’s lap causing him to quickly grow aroused at the sensation. When you felt his hard on graze against your ass, your cheeks warmed up. “Y/n, maybe it’s time for us to go back to bed.” The raspiness in his voice sent chills down your spine and you knew exactly what he had in mind. You decided to mess with him even if you knew what his plans were once you were to head back to the room.

“Tired?”

“No. The complete opposite actually. I’m wide awake, and so is little Mark. Since you’re the one to cause the problem in my pants, I believe you should be the one to fix it. Now let’s go.”

The memory was all too much for him to take in. He made love to you for the rest of that morning until he had to get ready for work. If he knew that was going to be one of the last times he got to love on your body, he would’ve called in sick and taken his time with you. He would’ve kissed you longer, map your body with all of his love bites and held you just a little tighter so that you wouldn’t have been able to leave him.

The timer sounding off stopped him from drowning himself in self pity and he finished putting the ramen in to bowls before making his way back in to the living room. Alyssa had all her attention on the tv screen in front of her but paused the game when she saw Mark placing the bowls down on the coffee table. She quietly thanked him and began to eat her food.

Both her and Mark sat in silence, but the atmosphere was extremely awkward with neither of them knowing what to say. Mark felt bad, he knew he was the cause of the tension between the two of them, but he just didn’t feel like this was right. How could he put effort in to something he wanted no part in? Once they were both done eating, he took their bowls and set them down in the sink while releasing an exhausted sigh. He decided that he wanted to go to sleep and used that as excuse to get Alyssa out of his apartment.

When he returned back to the living room, he saw her reaching out to his dog Milo, but the cute little pup had already taken a disliking to the poor girl. Milo wasn’t one to like people all that easily, so if he showed attention to anyone other than Mark, that just proved the puppy liked you. Other than Mark, Milo loved you. You were good with giving him baths once a week, you’d pick up after him, you’d feed him treats when Mark wasn’t home and you’d always play fetch with him. Sometimes Mark would find himself getting jealous that Milo seemed to like you just a bit more, but it was also very cute.

With that being said, Milo seemed to have had a hard time accepting your absence once you moved out. He was no longer as active, wasn’t as quick to come whenever Mark called and he no longer ate all of his food that Mark put out for him. He still had a hard time understanding why you left, but he was never one to pry things out of you. If you had something on your mind, he would wait for you to tell him willingly.

“He’s so cute! What’s his name?” Mark shrugged.

“Milo.” She tried to play fetch with him but Milo payed her no mind before returning back to the room.

“Hey Alyssa, I um—I actually have to get up early tomorrow so is it okay to end things here tonight? I’m sorry about that—I’ll take you home—“ she shook her head politely while standing up and gathering her things.

“It’s alright, I can catch a taxi. Don’t worry about me. Thank you for having me over.” He gave her a sad smile before walking her over to the door.

“Oh—before I go, I um—I think you should talk to her.” Mark looked up at her in curiosity but right as he was going to ask her who she was talking about, she continued. “Jinyoung told me about your ex-girlfriend. I didn’t think much about it at first, but you seemed so distant, so out of it on our last two dates and I knew there was a reason someone as attractive and kind-hearted as you was single. It’s because your heart is still taken. Either you’re still in love with her, or you’re just not interested in me. But you should try, you never know what the outcome could be. For all you know, she’s still in love with you too. Have a nice night Mark. Take care.”

She pulled him in to a quick hug and went on her way. Her perfume was sweet and a bit too strong for his liking. You were never one to wear perfume. If anything, you preferred the scent of your laundry detergent; fresh linen always smelt good to you and Mark ended up liking the scent because it always reminded him of you. Right after your breakup, he had to change his laundry soap because it would always bring him to tears.

Mark made his way to the room and plopped down on the bed; shoving his face in to the pillow and released a frustrated grunt. The first week after you completely took out all of your things, Mark found himself sleeping on the couch. There was no way he’d be able to sleep on the bed without you in his arms. Matter a fact, he only started to sleep in his room again just two weeks ago. Milo even joined him on the bed and Mark was very grateful he had the cute little dog to be there for him or he was sure he’d go insane. He got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Then he took off his shirt and changed in to a pair of sweats before making his way back in to the living room to turn off the tv.

As he reached for the game console and was about to turn off the tv, he saw a green dot in the corner of his eye, signaling that you were currently online. His heart rate started to increase and he felt a single tear fall on his cheek. He hasn’t seen you since your last night together and seeing that you were currently playing a game made him smile to himself. He decided to play for a few minutes and it took every bone in his body not to send you a game request.

Ten minutes after he started the game, he got a notification that you sent a message. He felt as if his heart was going to combust out of his chest and his finger began to circle over the button. A huge part of him wanted to see what you had to say. His heart was practically pleading with him to open it but his mind was afraid that you said something he didn’t want to hear. Going with the commands of his heart, he opened the message and released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Tiger-lily: Hey. It’s been a while. Are you busy? 10:26 p.m.

Mark smiled like an idiot to himself before waiting a few minutes to respond, not wanting to seem too forward or too eager even if he was extremely excited. He could only hope this meant good things.

Morkus: Never too busy for you. What’s up? Are you okay? 10:30 p.m.

Tiger-lily: I think I made a mistake. I know that it’s late, but can I come over? 10:32 p.m.

He bit down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from screaming. Were you referring to breaking up with him? Did you regret leaving? Were you regretting these last four months of being away from him? What was the mistake that you made? He could only pray something good was about to happen.

Morkus: Yeah sure. Need me to come get you? 10:33 p.m.

Tiger-lily: No. I should be fine. I’ll see you in a few. 10:35 p.m.

Mark quickly got up from off the couch and turned off the tv while looking around to make sure the place looked spotless. He couldn’t believe you were on your way to his apartment nor could he process the idea of you regretting the breakup. He knew he shouldn’t have been getting his hopes up, but his heart felt so full. When he saw Milo slowly treading in to the living room, he picked him up and began kissing him all around his face.

“Mommy’s coming home Milo. Let’s get you cleaned up. She’s going to know I’ve been a mess without her just by the fact that you wreak.” As he began to give Milo a bath, he heard a soft knock on the door and he had to calm himself down before opening it. His mind was full of so many thoughts and questions he wanted to ask you, but he didn’t want to ruin things before they could even start. Once he laid his eyes on you, it’s like he fell in love with you all over again. Has it really been four months since he last saw you? Since he last held you and kissed you? Since he last got to hold your dainty little hand in his and professed his love for you both to the world and amongst yourselves?

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He gave you a soft smile and offered for you to come inside.

“Can I get you something to eat or drink? You look very good by the way. Well, I mean—you always look good. Even when you wear a old, raggedy shirt of mine with your hair in a bun honestly I think that’s when you look the prettiest—I should stop talking I’m sorry. Let me go get Milo from out of the sink.” He grinned when he saw the small smile rise upon your face before heading back in to the bathroom. After drying Milo off with a towel and placing him on the ground, he gave himself a few seconds to come to his senses. Even after all this time, you still had quite the effect on him and only you were able to turn him in to a stuttering and clumsy mess.

His heart warmed when he saw Milo in your hands, licking at your face in excitement. He missed this. Missed you. It was all so natural for you to be in his environment again. It’s as if you never left in the first place. He took in your appearance and frowned when he saw the bags under your eyes and how much weight you lost. Although there were so many questions on the tip of his tongue, he was going to let you take the lead in how things were going to go. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, attempting to get used to the other’s presence. Finally, after what felt like forever, you spoke up.

“I’m sorry.” He looked at you in confusion, not understanding where you were coming from and waited for you to continue. “Like I said earlier, I made a mistake. These last few months without you have been hell. I was going through some shit at the time and I didn’t want to bring you down with me. I needed to learn to love myself before I could allow you to continue loving me. I know it was selfish of me and I genuinely felt like you deserved better, so that’s why I left. And I lied, I didn’t leave because I was no longer happy in this relationship. I’m happiest when I’m with you.”

You took in a deep breath before continuing your rant. Seeing Mark look so small, so fragile and knowing that you were the reason made you feel terrible. He was the most amazing boyfriend and took such great care of you. He never failed to make you smile and you were sure his laugh was the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. How could you break his heart when he was the only person who has ever meant anything to you?

“I’ve been so lost without you. Learning to live without you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Every time something went wrong in my life, I wanted so badly to run to you and cry in to your arms. But I felt so stupid, I’m the one who put us in this situation; I had no right to feel sorry for myself. Not a day went by where I didn’t think about you. I wanted to call you, text you and I even found myself outside of the apartment wanting to come in and apologize for all the pain I’ve caused you. I’m sorry it took so long. I was cleaning out my closet earlier when I stumbled upon the letter you wrote me for our third anniversary and I kept replaying the last few words in my mind over and over again the entire day. “I love you y/n and I plan to love you for the rest of my life. No matter what happens, it’s always going to be you.” I cried like a baby for hours and I finally came to the conclusion that I don’t want to be without you anymore. I overheard Youngjae and Yugyeom talking about a girl and how you’re dating again, so I understand if I’m too late, I just needed you to know that I’m still so madly in love with you and I’d do anything to be yours again.”

You took his silence as a bad sign and began to pick at your nails in nervousness, a habit Mark noticed that you would do whenever you were worried. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t upset to hear that you broke up with him because you felt you weren’t enough for him and because you were dealing with some battles on your own but he couldn’t blame you. You were always so independent, you were never one to tell anybody your problems even if Mark would tell you countless times that he was always there for you whenever you needed him. His heart hurt for you and he hated that he didn’t see the signs before.

“Baby.” Hearing him call you the term of endearment sent a warm feeling to your chest and before you knew it, his lips were smashing against yours. You deepened the kiss and wrapped your arms up around his neck. His lips were soft and tasted like kimchee and you had to stifle back a laugh. Mark was notorious for eating ramen. You were surprised he’s never gotten tired of it seeing as how that is all he ever eats. He licked your bottom lip before bringing it in to his mouth playfully. The two of you made out for quite some time, neither of you being able to pull away because it’s been so long. Back when the two of you first started dating, you and Mark were constantly kissing each other. Whether it was a quick peck goodbye as one of you left for work, or a rough, passionate make out session after a heated argument, you could never go a day without connecting your lips with his. To Mark’s dismay, you broke the kiss in order to catch your breath and placed your forehead against his.

“I’ve missed you.” You giggled softly before placing a sloppy kiss on his jaw.

“I’ve missed you too. God, you don’t understand just how much Mark.” He reached for your fingers and began to play with them while bringing them up to his lips in order to gently kiss your fingertips.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were suffering y/n? I would’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there for you. That’s what I’m here for. I’m your boyfriend. You’re supposed to lean on me whenever life gets too hard. You should’ve let me help you carry the burden, not go through that all by yourself. If I knew that was the reason why you left, I wouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Don’t you dare for one second think you’re not good enough for me. I meant it every single time I said it. You’re perfect baby. You’re all I want in this lifetime and the next. God, I don’t know what I did to deserve you here right now but I’ll do it time and time again if it means you’ll stay. I love you so much y/n. Promise me baby, if there ever comes a time where you are going through a rough patch, you will tell me. Please. I can’t lose you again. The pain is too much to handle.”

He reached for your hand and brought it up to his chest so that you could feel how quickly it was beating. “This pathetic thing I call my heart, or whatever is left of it, whatever you didn’t take with you when you broke up with me, it’s yours. You have all of me y/n. Forever. I’m yours forever.” The tears were hot as they fell down your face causing you to reconnect your lips together once more. Mark stood up and brought you with him, wrapping your legs around his hips and placed his hands on your ass, guiding you both towards the bedroom.

“Mark what are you going to do—“

“You. All night.” You gave him a knowing look and let out a soft moan when he slapped one of your ass cheeks. “I haven’t busted a nut in over four months y/n, I think we need to make up for lost time.”

He threw you all but gently on the bed before attacking your face with sloppy kisses. “Mmm—Mark!”

“Just like that baby. I love hearing my name fall from your pretty lips. I love you so much y/n. Thank you for coming back to me.”

[myriadnarratives]

Netflix’s Shadow and Bone: My Fangirling Thought-dump

Fair Warning: I’m a darklina, so leave now if you’re not going to be decent (I don’t bash on Mal, though, so you’re safe there)

So I binged Shadow and Bone without reading the books (judgmental people, leave now), and let me tell you, I love the show. True, there were some things I wish were different based on what I’ve been spoiled on about the books, but as a show in and of itself, it’s strong.

So here’s just a dump of my thoughts and fangirling (I use *chef’s kiss* a lot). And obviously, spoilers ahead.

***SPOILERS AHEAD***

WHAT I LOVED

- The storytelling, both narrative and visual, is exquisite. How the dialogue contributes to the storytelling, answering the audience’s questions and doubts clearly even before they’re brought up; how the visual arrangement contributes to informing the audience of what they need to know and how that timeline of knowing helps the audience in piecing together the story, the characterization, and the timeline; the tying in of characters’ storylines so audiences are not confused as to why we’re spending so much time watching the goings-on with a character. *super chef’s kiss*

The show is so organically unified in terms of characterization, visual media, dialogue contribution, and so much more that I just, uh, I cannot even! I LOVE THE ART OF IT!

- How the show dealt with race, identity, prejudice, politics, social acceptance, individual needs, personal wants, the desire for security and safety that mean differently for each character *raises both hands to the heavens in thanks* The show’s concepts hit close to home for me in terms of race, prejudice, mixed biological identity that informs social perceptions, the desire for belonging and safety and acceptance, and I think this show would hold a special place in my heart for its portrayal of these issues.

- How different sexualities and genders are portrayed so casually, as if it’s an everyday normal thing (as it should be).

- The Crows (of course) and how their story intersected with Alina’s, and how the storytelling (I’ll keep going on about the visual storytelling until I run out of breath) shows the intersections and develops the diverging stories to meld into each other

- How they showed how brilliant Kaz’s mind is. The visual storytelling of showing one scene without explanation, leading the audience to create their own assumptions on what Kaz was seeing, then having the scene turn out different once it has been explained later when things have unfolded *chef’s kiss*: the meeting between the Conductor and the First Army General, the hidden changing room, the lynx flush assignments 

- How Inej’s faith is portrayed neither negatively or positively; it’s just a thing that is not contrived but contributes to the plot, not some sort of moral policing inside or outside of the story.

- Mal! I heard he’s a jerk in the books, that’s why I didn’t want to read the books before watching the show. But god, his first scenes with the sparring, and the way Archie moved in that fight. Also how Mal’s overall storyline progressed, how his ties to Alina was shown, how his feelings got revealed to the audience even before it got revealed to Alina so the sincerity is not questioned. That True North thing! *heart eyes*

- How the issue of consent in the sexual sense is highlighted as important. The darkling literally asks “Are you sure?” before he proceeds. (Of course, this is very different from his take on non-sexual consent later in the show - like really, you literally put a control button on your hand to control her powers! Dude...)

- The exploration of Alina’s overall consent and agency. They even literally have her say her lack of it when she was in the final episodes. Even Kaz shoves it in the Darkling’s face that she doesn’t want to be a captive anymore. And throughout the show, the thought processes behind her decisions are clearly communicated, giving her agency a lot more weight as the audience can understand and sympathize with her decisions. And she’s not just a “victim” of the story; she pushes the story along with her actions, from her decision to burn the maps so that she could come with Mal, to her childhood decision to cheat the Grisha test, to something as visually simple (yet strongly narrative-affecting) as choosing the left or right path in Baghra’s escape route.

- The exploration of want. What each character wants, how one want like “security” could mean an entirely different thing for each character (i.e. the Darkling’s want of security for the Grisha, Alina’s want of security for herself, Inej’s want of security in the form of freedom, etc.). The show, being well-written, is a smorgasbord of academic analysis. Again, if I haven’t said it yet, I LOVE THE ART OF IT!

- NINA!!! God, I really like how the actress looks! There’s just something about her face that I really, really like. And then there’s Nina’s lines, the delivery, the attitude *chef’s kiss* One caveat though: I wish she wasn’t made to say “Please” when she was hanging off the ice ledge. Even though she had already warmed up to Matthias (and him to her), I would have wanted the scene to be a clash of his pride and her dignity: just like in the ship earlier, her not submitting even to his kindness (sincere or otherwise), and him having a moral crisis on helping a “witch.”

- Genya’s hand-to-hand fight *absolutely beautiful*

- The overall fight choreographies. It’s not just people punching each other and brawling; the jiu-jitsu locks and judo throws hold a special place in my practitioner’s heart, and the fights look really good, either it be for the women (Hello, Genya and Inej) or the men (Mal and Aleksander’s fight looked so different from usual brawls because of the throws).

- How the different Grishas, even the usually non-combat ones, can weaponize their abilities: Healers can, obviously, break bones; Heartrenders can stop your heart; and even the Sun Summoner can blind you.

- Jesper and Milo the goat. “Grab the goat. Hug the goat. Shut the fuck up.” And how Jesper tearfully parted with Milo LOL

- How Alina just climbed right into the get away carriage’s literal trunk. LOL!

- Kaz and the Darkling meeting. I know it’s not in the books (they’re not even in the same trilogy/duology), so having these two characters with so much gravitas meet and actually verbally spar is *chef’s kiss* 

- Inej’s first kill is to save Kaz *heart eyes*

- The Darkling’s humor! “Yes, David?” and “I’ll have to give that speech again” were hilarious!

Of course, there’s many more, generally because of how they contribute to, again, the visual and narrative storytelling and the characterizations and the plot progression and, ugh, I'll stop now or else I'll just keep going on about how much I love how this show was crafted.

NEUTRAL

- I heard that Alina was supposed to be funny in the books, but apart from the “No pressure” and “My tailbone is killing me” lines, there wasn’t really much of that humor in there--most of the humor came from Jesper’s scenes or Mal’s friends. Honestly, I think the show Alina fits the story, so I don’t really care if her humor is not as evident.

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE

- Gosh, Netflix and the showrunners really know how to market the show. They were right when they said the first step is to cast Ben Barnes. Then the focus on the General/Darkling and Alina’s story and relationship, that sort of dark and brooding archetype getting with the green and pure protagonist, is so delicious. But of course, endgame is not meant to be. The Darkling is a manipulative, controlling, toxic person, and should be nowhere near Alina if not on equal ground. I just wish they didn't put that much focus on it in the marketing (i.e. the extra clips distributed to media sources) to make it seem like darklina could happen, especially with the story changes the show was reportedly doing. Oh well, that’s what fanfiction is for. And I guess there’s a chance for redemption in the following season? *puts on clown nose*

MY QUESTIONS AND...WISHES?

So since the show has changed the story quite a bit from the books, I'm so stoked to see where the characters’ stories lead to. I’m sure there would be similarities to the books (Nikolai and Weylan would show up, for sure), but there would be a lot of changes, I'm sure (Alina’s a Saint now, so how would that affect her life on the run and her relationship with Mal? There’s no great reveal for Aleksander’s name, so perhaps he doesn’t die? At least not that way?).

- I wish we’d see more of that internal/thought connection the Darkling and Alina seemed to have. And I wish they’d highlight further the idea of balancing, of being the only two in the world, and of how each needs/complements the other in terms of power. I just really wish they’d explore more darklina, and perhaps have it open to have a darklina ending (I’m not holding my breath for that one at all, but hey, membership to clownverse is free). At the very least, would there be a change in the Darkling’s ending (does he get stuck in the tree)? Does he get a redemption arc? Would he utter the “I do not repent” line? Would Alina and him have the shared connection, I-can-see-you-even-if-you’re-far-away bond? Would Alina somehow forgive him (hopefully only if he has changed and is not controlling and toxic anymore)? Would Alina and him have a showdown as he tries to expand the fold and she tries to close it? He has command of even the volcra now, so what would that mean for Alina’s side? Does she get an army, too? Maybe there’d be creatures of light, too? Perhaps other animal amplifiers?

- Now that Mal and Alina have more or less confessed to each other and ended up together, what would be the next hurdle in their relationship? They can’t just stay static, after all, otherwise the story of their relationship won’t be a good narrative. Season 1 touched on Mal’s fear of the Grisha (with Alina literally asking him out loud), so perhaps as Alina’s powers grow, Mal’s discomfort with her powers would show more (I hope the show doesn’t make Alina do a Slip-into-the-Darkside trope, or at least not too much to the detriment of her agency and core characterization)? Or perhaps going from that conversation with the Darkling and Mal, when Aleksander seemed to have gotten under Mal’s skin when he pointed out that due to their immortality, Aleks and Alina are endgame: maybe Mal would have that rivalry with the Darkling again and, considering Alina’s kind of psychic bond to Aleks (if they add that in), would feel that Alina might choose the Darkling in the end? I just hope the characters aren’t reduced to stereotypes of 1-girl-2-guys-and-girl-can’t-choose love triangle. Even season 1 explicitly had Alina cut off ties with Mal first (because she mistakenly thought he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore since he’s not replying to her letters) before she went to the Darkling romantically.

- What’s next for the Crows? Would Inej eventually go to Sankta Alina? Perhaps the Ice Court heist is next for the Crows. Nikolai has to show up some time, right? How would that tie in with Alina’s storyline?

I have a lot of other questions on what happens to the characters and the overall story, and I'm really glad that the show has diverged from the books to an extent that a lot of things could be possible. I hope Season 2 does happen, and I hope it’s as good as Season 1, especially since COVID is still happening and filming and filming options are limited. If Season 2 does happen, I hope it gets release soon :P

[phantomgirl15]

Welcome to Amity Park

Filled the request of @plazmawulf for a fic! Rus, I love getting to know you and getting to fill requests, so this was a lot of fun to write! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write it, I had writer’s block while trying to make a middle section with the main part. Because of that, I hope that this fills your request the way you were hoping, and I really hope that EVERYBODY enjoys, since giving everyone something to enjoy is a HUGE part of why I write!

Rated: Teen and up            Word Count: 8,499

"Amity Park? Are you kidding me? Nobody's ever even heard of that place! Mom, do we have to move there?"

"Sweetie, it's alright, I promise. Your dad just got a promotion and they want him to work in Amity Park. So we're gonna be moving there. We found a really nice home, not too far from the school, just within walking distance. You'll make plenty of new friends and we're still going to be in touch with people here."

"But I don't wanna move."

"You're being childish. You're 16, and you can't just decide when you're not moving unless all of a sudden you're rich and are living on your own. Last I knew, you weren't."

"You know I'm that kid that doesn't make friends very easily. Everybody finds out who Dad works for and then they hate me."

"You're going to be fine. It's a popular company in Amity Park, I'm sure lots of people have families that work there."

"You don't understand!"

"No, you don't understand. You're moving with us to Amity Park and I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends. End of discussion. You need to finish packing your clothes, the moving truck will be here soon."

"But..."

"No buts. You've known that we're moving for almost 3 months, you've had plenty of time to prepare. Go finish packing your clothes."

"Fine."

He ran to his room and slammed the door as hard as he could. The noise echoed around him as he threw his clothes into his box, the only one remaining in his room that was empty. He didn't care if his clothes got wrinkled, they would be thrown around in the moving truck anyways. The alarm system on the house caused the familiar tone when a door opened to chime out downstairs, making him realize his dad was home. He sighed angrily, knowing that his dad was going to be taking them out for lunch after the movers came and grabbed their stuff before they all had to make what he was assuming was going to be a long drive to Amity Park.

"Milo! I'm home!"

"Coming, Dad!"

Milo sighed in anger, just waiting for his dad to tell him that they were going out for lunch and then getting on the road to the new house. He grabbed his phone and opened his door, walking down the stairs with the standard look of annoyance and hatred on his face.

"Hey! We're all here and so I figured we could all grab lunch together at a nice place after the moving guys finish packing up our stuff!"

"Oh, hooray."

The sarcasm dripped from Milo's voice, his dad frowning at him for a moment.

"Look. I know you don't want to move, but either we move or I'm out of a job and then we would be in more trouble. I promise you, I'll make it up to you."

"Don't give me that lie. You said that the last two times we've moved. What's different about it this time? Oh yeah. Nothing."

Milo turned away from his dad and typed their new address into his phone, seeing how long he would have to sit in the car later that afternoon. He saw the drive he would have to sit through. Seven hours seemed like it was going to be a nightmare. his stomach growled, however, and he looked back to see his parents grabbing the last few items from the first floor and putting them into their last couple remaining boxes.

He dashed for the stairs and threw the rest of his clothes into the box before he walked back down the stairs, his dad saying he got a call from the moving company that they would be there in about fifteen minutes to pick up their stuff. Milo frowned for a moment as he heard that they were really on their way, his nightmare not just being a dream.

"My stuff is packed. I'm gonna go for a walk."

Milo called to his parents as he walked out the door and closed it behind him, he couldn't hear what his mom said back to him but he didn't care. He just wanted some alone time before being stuck in the car for seven hours at the very least. He found his phone in his pocket and pulled the app open so that he could listen to music, his earbuds being put in with the satisfying click so that nobody could hear his music and he couldn't hear anybody.

Milo walked up and down the streets of his town, looking to see if there was anything he didn't want to forget, making sure to create a mental note for each object that triggered a memory. Milo stopped at the elementary school and looked around, finally sitting on the swings and looking through his social media. He saw how many people he would be leaving this time and sighed, his mind racing to try and figure out if the people here would miss him as much as the people from the last town.

Milo's music blasted in his ears as he listened to the melody of the song. He wanted to ignore the fact that he got a text from his mom saying he needed to come home and help load stuff into the moving truck. He stood up and turned the music up just a little bit louder, his head feeling the beats as he walked.

Milo saw the guys who were hauling furniture out of his house as he got back, his mind in too much shock to even think about what was going on. The house was mainly empty, almost everything in the truck. He saw his parents conducting where everything was going to be going when they got to the new house, as well as the final address the truck needed.

Milo raced up to his room and saw that all of his belongings were in the truck. The movers must have been earlier than they said they would be. He sat in the middle of the floor and laughed for a moment, taking his earbuds out as he sat there.

"It's time to go, Milo!"

"Coming!"

He got himself to walk as slow as possible down the stairs, seeing his dad smiling back up at him. He gave a weak smile and sighed as he was ushered to the car, his mom asking him where he wanted to go for lunch.

"I don't care."

Milo mumbled and dragged his feet as much as he could, trying to make it so that they couldn't leave. Milo looked out the car window one more time to see his house vanishing over the horizon. He turned himself back to the front of the car and pulled out his phone, hoping to find something to do while he listened to music. His mom tapped him on the knee from the passenger seat and Milo pulled out one earbud.

"What?"

"Where do you want to get lunch?"

"I don't know, maybe a place that serves food?"

Milo got a nasty look from his mom as his sarcasm dripped from his mouth, him rolling his eyes in frustration.

"Fine. How about that local place that serves the best onion rings?"

His mom smiled and told Milo's dad where to go. Milo put his earbud back in and listened to his music, Dumpty Humpty blaring in his ears.

. . .

The car ride was long, seven hours to be exact. Milo got out of the car and stretched his legs, his mind racing as he stood outside the new house. He didn't see the moving van yet, however, so he knew he would probably be on the floor tonight rather than in his bed. He knew he would be starting school the next week and he was hoping to be in his bed as much time as possible before then.

He looked around the neighborhood and saw that not many people seemed to be outside, even though the weather seemed to be nice. He saw a girl dressed in all black sitting on her front steps, obviously doing something on her phone. He shrugged it off, hoping that he would meet people who were a bit more normal in this town once he started school.

Milo reached into his pocket to get his phone and saw that he had a text from his aunt, saying that she hoped the trip went well and that he enjoys the new house. Milo rolled his eyes and texted back that everything was fine. He looked up from his phone as he heard a large noise indicating that the moving truck had finally gotten to their house.

Milo's boxes were piled up in his room, his bed put back together and his mattress unbound. He saw that his parents' room didn't look much different and gave another eye roll, sitting on his bed and looking out the window, not sure what school was going to bring for him.

. . .

Milo walked into the school nervous. Obviously nervous. So nervous that he was pretty sure you could see his palms dripping sweat. He saw the office at the front of the school and walked into it, stating his name and what he needed. A schedule. And a map, probably. The school's halls looked to be a neverending maze just from where he was. Milo smiled as the lady at the desk helped him, the principal staring him down for a moment before realizing that he was new and not there because he was in trouble like most of the other kids that were in the office. He smiled back and took his newly printed schedule.

"Uhg. English first. I already hate this."

Milo scanned the halls for the room he was assigned to for English and laughed, already lost. He heard someone behind him call out, asking if he needed help. Milo turned and saw a teacher standing in the doorway to her room, and asked where he could find room 131A. She pointed down the hall and Milo thanked her as he started off to the class.

He walked in and all eyes stared at Milo. He began to feel the sweat drip down the back of his neck. He saw the teacher smiling and introduced himself.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Lancer. You must be our new student, Milo."

He nodded to Lancer, seeing the students staring at him as he fidgeted with his hands.

"Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"

"Uhhhh... Sure. I'm Milo, I just moved here last Thursday... Ummmm... I enjoy video games. I like to hang out on weekends I guess. Sorry, I'm a little bit of a socially awkward guy."

Lancer nodded and smiled again as Milo asked where he should sit.

"Why don't you take a seat in the back with Miss Manson. You ought to be able to see the board from back there."

Milo pushed his glasses up his nose and walked to the back of the room, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He saw that the only girl in the back of the room was the same girl he had seen sitting on her steps. Her clothes were still all black and nobody was sitting directly next to her. He saw a couple of people, who he assumed were jocks from the letterman jackets they wore, staring at him as he walked towards the girl in black.

He tried to sit next to some of the other people in the room, hoping to get some information on who he now knew to be Miss Manson. He saw that she was blankly staring at the front of the classroom. Her eyes seemed to almost be glossed over as she slowly turned her head towards Milo, his chair squeaking as he pulled it out to sit down. He looked back over at her and she turned away quickly, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

Milo saw his own reflection in her eyes as she stared at the board then, her hair pulled back just enough that he was able to see her face. He heard her phone vibrate on her desk, her hand slowly moving to see who had messaged her. He saw a contact photo that looked like a complete nerd. Milo straightened his glasses and looked back to the notes he was writing only to see scribbles all over his paper and part of the desk.

The girl raised her hand slowly, asking Lancer if she could leave the classroom for a moment. An angry sigh was given from the teacher as Miss Manson was given permission to leave the room, told to make it quick unless she wanted another detention like last week. She gave a small smirk and left the room silently, her boots being the only thing to make noise. Milo leaned back in his chair and tried to focus on his class but couldn't. She almost looked like she was dead inside, and it didn't just look like a lack of sleep.

Everything just seemed like it was "off" to Milo. He knew nothing about this girl, yet nothing seemed right. He didn't even know her first name and yet here he was saying that she was weird. He felt bad, but she seemed like bad luck, so he didn't want to be caught anywhere near her again after this class.

Milo dashed out of class when he heard the bell ring, just a couple more classes and then it was time to be more social and find where he would be sitting at lunch. He ran his hand through his hair as he tried to not overstress about where his next class was. Science, then History. This wouldn't be too bad. He found the science labs on the first floor and saw his classroom. He looked to see where the teacher pointed for him to sit.

Milo's heart nearly stopped as he saw that the teacher was trying to put him next to the girl in all black again. He saw that she was talking to the guys at the lab station in front of her, but as soon as Milo walked over, getting a hard no from the teacher when he asked if she was sure that he had to sit with "Miss Manson", the three stopped talking abruptly. The girl's eyes focused on the desk, and the two boys quickly turned around.

Milo looked at the three of them, obviously good friends or they wouldn't have turned around. But whatever it was they were keeping it a bit too secret for his liking.

'This is weird...'

Milo put his books down as he thought to himself, hoping that he would actually get to talk to these three and get some more information. He slid into his seat, still having a few moments before class started. He looked over to the girl and held out his hand.

"Hi, my name is Milo."

"Yeah. I know. You introduced yourself in English."

"Oh... Ummm..."

Milo didn't know how to respond, he heard some chuckles from the guys in front of him and felt his face turn a bit red, hoping they weren't laughing at him.

"I'm Sam. That's Tucker and Danny."

Milo smiled as the guys waved at him for a moment, thankfully looking much more friendly than Sam. Milo looked over at her and saw her drawing a bit on the table, obviously not caring what the teacher would say - which bothered Milo a bit seeing as he was a goody-two-shoes. Danny and Tucker turned themselves back around, cracking a few jokes as Milo took a deep breath, hoping to get along with his new lab partner so that he would pass the class.

He tried to ask her what kinds of things she liked doing, but she brushed it off and wouldn't answer him. He asked about what kind of music she liked and she sat dead silent. He tried to ask about her drawings, but all she did was cover them and turn her body away from him.

'Note to self, she doesn't like to make friends.'

Milo glanced up at the board as the teacher started to teach the class. He had always been an okay science student, and this school was actually a bit behind where he had been when he moved so Milo didn't feel the need to look at the board as much as some of the other students. He was able to keep his focus on Sam as he sat through the droning voice of the teacher. She seemed to either already know this stuff or didn't care about it.

He saw her reading a book under her desk, the pages turning rapidly as she scanned the pages, her fingers flying across the words as she read them. Milo tried to take his eyes away from what she was doing but couldn't, his mind racing as he tried to get a peek at what she was reading.

He saw a couple of runes on the pages as she turned them. Was she trying to learn witchcraft? Milo's heart raced, knowing that he had always taken an interest in these kinds of things, his neck craning a bit to see the pages more. He glanced up to see that the teacher hadn't noticed him paying attention to something else.

Milo gave a small, 'pssst' noise to Sam, hoping that this would be something they could connect over so that he could say he made at least one more friend at a new school for the fourth time. He looked up at her face and saw that she either hadn't heard him or was purposefully ignoring him. Milo felt that it was most likely the second option. He looked up and saw that the teacher was still teaching, not noticing that Milo wasn't paying attention. He made the same noise a little bit louder, Sam glancing over at him to see if he was seriously trying to bother her while in class.

Milo wrote on a post-it note and held it out to Sam under the lab table. She quickly snatched it to read his short message.

"Is that witchcraft? I've always found that kind of stuff interesting."

Milo watched as Sam quickly scribbled back to him and passed the note under the desk.

"Yeah. It is. You like it?"

Milo smirked slightly, hoping that nobody else had noticed. He quickly wrote back to Sam and passed the note, her curiosity in him liking witchcraft sparking hope that he would have a new friend.

"Yeah its really cool. Can you hold the book so I can see too?"

Sam quickly adjusted the book, letting Milo see. He sat and read with her in class rather than paying attention, but he didn't need to. Milo saw Sam take a piece of paper from the book that seemed to have been acting as a bookmark and quickly hid it, obviously not wanting Milo to see what it was. All he saw was that it was labeled, 'Map of the GZ' which only confused him. He tried to ask about it, but Sam quickly shut the book completely and shut Milo out even faster.

Milo didn't know what else to think about from then on in class. His mind was racing as he sat through the rest of the class, hoping to get even a small peak as to what it was Sam was hiding from him. When the teacher announced a pop quiz at the end of class he aced it, getting a perfect score. He was in a bit of shock at that as he hadn't been paying any attention to the quiz while taking it, hoping to know what he had done that made Sam yank the book away.

The bell rang and before Milo could even stand up Sam was gone. He saw the other two boys who Sam had been talking to packing up their things and asked why she was gone so fast. The one that Sam had introduced as Tucker glanced at Danny before answering Milo.

"Oh, uhhh... She's just being Sam, you know?"

"Yeah. She does this pretty often. Did you not have a couple of weird kids at your old school?"

The two gave Milo a couple of weird looks as he tried to find what to say back to them, their backpacks now slung over their shoulders as they waited for Milo to grab his belongings. He shuffled his feet for a moment, grabbing his almost unopened backpack from the floor and throwing it over his shoulder.

"We didn't have anyone quite as weird as Sam. I was the weird kid at my last two schools."

Danny and Tucker laughed, Milo, looking at them in confusion. Milo felt Danny nudge him in the side as they walked him to class. His mind raced as he saw Sam almost dashing through the hallway to try and avoid people, her locker slamming closed before she was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Then you've got a lot to look forward to. There's quite a few weird people and things around Amity Park."

Milo could have sworn he saw Danny's eyes flash from blue to green and to blue again before he looked away. He saw Tucker hold out a small post-it note with three numbers written on it.

"I think I've already seen some of the weird. And I think I'm in a bit over my head."

Milo mumbled and took the post-it from Tucker, his hand shaking as he grabbed the small slip of paper.

"What's this for?"

"You're new in town and looked like you needed some friends. Just let us know if you need anything."

"Wow, thanks! I really appreciate it!"

Milo pushed his glasses up on his nose and waved as the two friends walked into another classroom. Milo found his and sat down, hoping the teacher wouldn't force him to be around -

"Sam!"

Sam flinched as Milo realized the teacher had put him right next to her again. He should have guessed from how nobody else was in the seats around them.

"Oh. You again."

Sam let her backpack fall to the floor, slouching in her seat so that she could read her book without the teacher noticing. Milo heard a few whispers from other kids in the class as they saw what book Sam was reading. He saw that nobody approached her, however. Almost like she was taboo.

Milo quickly craned his neck, trying to see what page she was on, knowing that she would get upset if he did anything stupid or saw what she had hidden from him earlier. She heard him mumbling the words on the page as he read, obviously trying to start a conversation.

"What?"

Sam whispered back, knowing the teacher wasn't going to care. She always had detention, getting another wasn't going to change her behavior.

"I wanted to apologize. I don't know what I did in the last class but you seemed upset."

Milo made sure the teacher wasn't looking his way as Sam sighed in annoyance.

"You didn't do anything. It was my own stupidity."

"Then why didn't you let me keep reading the book? Some map fell out, that's all."

Sam's voice changed slightly, a bit more static to it than Milo remembered, the air around him growing cold.

"It's not just some map."

He saw that her hair was slightly defying gravity, her body almost looking like it was glitching.

"And it is none of your business."

Milo blinked a couple of times and saw that Sam was just sitting and reading her book. Her knees pressed to the table as he scanned over the pages. Milo sat himself back up straight, wondering if he had just imagined it. But it had felt so real. The images of Sam almost gave Milo chills down his spine with how unrealistic it was, but so detailed he couldn't have made it up.

"Saaaaaaam."

"What?!"

Sam snapped at Milo, obviously annoyed.

"Did you just do what I think you did?"

"I read my book in peace until you started bothering me."

Sam carelessly whispered back.

"What do you think I did?"

"Do you... did you mess with some of those runes and did they work? You didn't seem... human."

Sam looked at him with her usual glassy eyes, almost making her look dead.

"You think that I'm not human? Funny Miko."

"It's... it's Milo."

"Yeah, same thing. I'm assuming Danny and Tucker gave you my number?"

"How did you..."

"They do that a lot. Delete it if you don't want me to send a demonic being after you."

Milo turned away, seeing her body do the glitching every so often. He assumed that it was all a dream, a nightmare really. That he was just overtired from the move and that he was imagining things. But the rumors in the hallway started to make Milo wonder if this town was just weirder than he thought.

"The new kid has been hanging out with Manson recently. I heard that he triggered her to do some of the ghostly abilities they think she's getting from hanging around Phantom so much."

A blonde jock whispered to the lead cheerleader as Milo walked past.

"Oh, I know! And he's the first person the goth has talked to since she started drifting apart from the two losers."

"I wonder what Fenturd and Foley are gonna say about this."

Milo pulled his backpack farther up his shoulder, looking down as he passed the two who were talking. Ghostly abilities? Phantom? What were they talking about?

He saw his last class of the day and walked in, only to be put next to Sam, her book already out as Milo sighed and sat next to her, the rest of the class in shock that he was so close to the goth. She raised an eyebrow at him and closed the book, making sure that he didn't see what was inside of it. Milo wanted to know more about who Phantom was that the whole school kept talking about, and Sam was said to hang out with them a bit more than she should, but Milo knew Sam would consider that something that 'wasn't his business' and then push him away again.

Milo started scribbling notes to himself to make sure he remembered to ask Danny and Tucker about Sam's encounters with this Phantom person. Maybe they would know about him. Milo blinked and from the corner of his eye saw that Sam was gone. He turned his head and saw that she really wasn't there.

Looking around he realized that he couldn't see her anywhere in the room. It was almost like she had become invisible. He felt a small chill run down the back of his neck and blinked again, his eyes opening to see Sam standing with her front half bent over his desk. He almost jumped up, his small squeak of fright making Sam almost begin to laugh for a moment.

"What are you writing?"

Milo felt his head flood with ideas for what to say since this was going to be a set of notes about her that he noticed and didn't exactly want her nose in. He grinned widely as he opened his mouth, still having a minute or two before class started.

"That's none of your business."

Milo's grin only made Sam angrier, her upper body, arms, and hair beginning to glitch again as her temper rose.

"That's not funny, Miso."

"It's still Milo."

Sam's glitching began to calm, Milo trying to see if anyone else noticed it or if he was just dreaming or seeing things.

"Uh huh... right. Just let me see what you're writing."

"Let me see the map."

Milo put the notes away in his backpack and crossed his arms, hoping to see the map and understand what was happening. He saw Sam flick her eyes to her backpack before looking back to him.

"You can't see that. It's private."

"Then you can't see my notes. They're just as private."

The bell rang and Milo heard Sam almost hiss as the teacher told her to take her seat so they could begin. Milo felt the tension in the air vanish, Sam's body once again looking human, all except for her eyes. He shivered for a moment before looking back up at the board and listened to the teacher drone on. His mind was racing about what happened, wondering if anyone else had seen what Sam's body had done in the past few classes.

The class quickly passed, Milo seeing a kid who hadn't really said anything hateful about anyone yet, rushing to the front of the class to ask about Sam.

"Hi!"

The kid turned around, his glasses giving a glare over his eyes so Milo couldn't make eye contact.

"I'm Milo. Can I ask who you are?"

"Mikey. Why are you talking to me?"

Milo was a bit taken aback by what Mikey had said. He had never been at a school where there was any kid who wasn't talked to. Except for Milo, but he moved too often to really make friends with.

"Why wouldn't I talk to you?"

"No reason. It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah... So, does anybody else notice what's going on with Sam Manson?"

Mikey gave Milo a weird look, making him see that he needed to be a bit more specific.

"You know, like, her vanishing, changing the temperature of the room, her body almost looking like it's glitching?"

Mikey gave a nervous glance in the direction of where Sam had been sitting, hoping that she was gone.

"Yeah. Most people notice it. Nobody wants to be around her. It's like she's started getting effected by how much she hangs out with Phantom. He's cool and all, but she's lost all of her friends and I wouldn't say that it's worth it. I'd stay away from her if I were you."

Milo wanted to ask more questions, but he at least knew that Phantom was a 'he' now. His mind wanted to jump to conclusions but knew that it would be even worse than getting more information first. He thanked Mikey and walked out of class, glad that the school day was pretty much over, his classes finally done.

He began walking himself home, the whole town looking normal with quick glances but seeming slightly weird each time Milo paid close attention. So many people were talking about ghosts. Ghost attacks, ghost hunters, ghost boys... Ghost boys? Could that be Phantom?

Milo tried to strain his ears to hear what was being said and heard 'ghost boy' and 'phantom' in the same sentence, making Milo think that maybe they weren't the same person, just because they would have used the same name both times. He hung his head as he walked back to his house, seeing a huge sign lit up on one of the houses, which let him know his place was just down the street.

Milo saw his new house, it stood out just from what color the outside of the building was, making it that much easier for him to find it. He lightly worked his way up the steps and threw his backpack on the floor in the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks and a snack to take up to his room. He slung the backpack over his one shoulder, balancing all of his consumables in one arm so that he could walk up the stairs. He threw everything onto his bed, the mattress bouncing slightly from the sudden impact.

Milo opened his first drink and grabbed his phone as well as the post-it from Tucker from his backpack, sitting at his desk with his feet propped up on the edge of his bed frame. He quickly typed in the two guys' numbers and said a quick hello, waiting to see what they would say back. He took another drink and tried to wait patiently, writing everything that he thought in the section of notes he had earlier.

He saw the list get longer and longer as he waited for a text to come in from either of the two guys at school, if not both of them since he made it a small group chat. He tried to not look at his phone too much, hoping that he didn't sound too desperate in his few short texts to the boys. He waited for a moment and thought about opening his browser to do some more research about Amity Park before he heard a small ding from his phone.

A new message was seen from the number that he had set as Tucker, a short hello being said and Tucker typing, probably to answer Milo's questions. Milo grabbed his phone and looked, seeing a friendly hello and smiling emoji, making Milo feel a little bit better about texting the guys. He saw Tucker's typing stop for a moment, a short and kind hello from Danny popping up in the chat.

"Hey, Milo! Glad you reached out! I saw you had some questions about our town. We're here to help, my dude."

Milo smiled. His phone buzzing lightly as Tucker's message came through with some of the answers.

"So you asked about Phantom, right? He's a little bit hard to explain. Especially to someone who isn't from Amity Park. He's kind of like our teen superhero. He was hated at first but the town grew to love him."

It switched to Danny typing.

"Sam hangs around him a lot, a lot more than she even hangs around us anymore. We all used to be really close, but once Phantom was created she started to drift away."

Milo rapidly typed back, not understanding why Sam would do that. And wanting to know how Phantom was created.

"Are you guys telling me that your friend left you because of some "superhero" being created? How was he created? What is he?"

Milo could almost feel a bit of tension in the chat, neither of the boys typing, just looking at his answer while he waited. Milo figured that they were texting each other, that they were being just a secretive as Sam was in class the whole day.

"Milo, did nobody tell you anything about Phantom when you moved in?"

"No. I hadn't really seen anyone to talk to until now. You guys are the first people I've had more than a small hello with."

Tucker's number was typing for what felt like an eternity, Milo's heart racing, mentally begging for answers to finally be given to him, that things would finally begin to make a bit of sense.

Tucker's number stopped, Milo's heart skipping a beat as he saw the next message loading.

"Phantom is the town's teen ghost superhero. He was created in an accident, but nobody knows too much about that. He's a ghost, so we all assume he died in an accident, like a car accident or something like that. We don't know when, but he's a hero. He does what he can to save anyone in the town. It's a little bit like the teens in comic books. But he's a ghost."

Milo looked at the message for a moment, trying to take in the concept of a ghost in the town as a hero. This brought up so many questions, but he didn't want to interrupt Danny's typing.

"As for Sam, when she found that we had a ghost boy that always tried to help people, she was almost immediately drawn to him. They got along really well the first time they met, so they never really separated. She got a bit closer to him than either of us liked."

Milo saw Danny typing more and waited to see what he said, his fingers itching to type a reaction.

"My parents are ghost hunters, so I know how they can affect humans and we were worried about Sam. But she wouldn't listen to us. She started to get a bit more ghostly as she spent more time with the ghost. She begged him to begin using his powers on her regularly. Invisibility, intangibility. She got really close to him while he was using ectoplasmic beams of energy."

"We still worry about her. But she's gotten very different. The side effects are beginning to show themselves through Sam's emotions. It's eerie, to say the least."

Milo sat and looked, seeing that nobody else was typing. He pulled up the keyboard on his phone and tried to answer what they had just told him without looking like he was in shock.

"So your town has ghosts in it. And Sam left you guys for the town hero. And now... Now she doesn't act quite as human. I'm so sorry about that, it's a lot to think about."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that she's pretty good at finding the supernatural. We never thought it would get this far."

Danny's message gave Milo chills, flashes of the day when Sam was showing the strange side effects of being around a ghost showing themselves suddenly in his mind. He saw her form fraying, her disappearing, her making the air almost static and sending chills down Milo's spine.

He saw that nobody was typing in the chat. It was like they were texting each other while they waited for him to respond to Danny's last message.

"Is there anything I can do for you guys? Or would you prefer I stay out of it?"

"There's not really anything that anyone can do. We tried to put together a type of intervention for her, but it did nothing. She's her own kind of person. You can try talking to her about it, but I doubt you'll get anywhere."

Tucker's message gave Milo a few ideas of how to talk to Sam, but he didn't want to do that until she trusted him a bit more. Maybe she would talk to him if she saw Milo talking to her old best friends.

Milo continued talking to the boys for a while, asking questions about how close they were, and when Sam started to change due to being around a ghost so much. Milo learned that being around ghosts and letting the ghosts use their powers on you every so often, long enough to phase you through a wall or fly you to safety, wasn't all that dangerous. It shouldn't have any effects on somebody. But Sam had the ecto-energy in her more frequently than anyone else, and for longer amounts of time than they knew were safe, which is why she was having these weird side effects.

Milo felt almost bad for the two friends, the ones who had welcomed him to Amity Park, who didn't care where his dad was working. He felt bad for them because their friend had left them. He felt more welcome here than anywhere else, and yet everyone seemed to be so secretive. Especially Sam, who piqued his curiosity. He felt drawn to her from how different she was.

Milo pushed his glasses up on his nose, hearing his mom call him to dinner and excusing himself from the chat with Danny and Tucker, saying that he would be back later, and if not he would see them tomorrow. Milo stood up and walked to his kitchen table, sitting down and telling his parents that it was a good first day of classes.

. . .

Milo kept seeing Sam doing weird things, kept seeing her emotions change her form and how she looked. He saw that she was changing the room temperature, that ice seemed to form around her in the classrooms. He almost wanted to see what she did but wanted to get her to trust him more before asking about Phantom.

So far all Milo knew was that he was teen and that ghosts tended to haunt the town. How had his parents managed to forget mentioning that?

Milo walked to his next class, hearing the jock and cheerleader whispering about how he was acting and how he was getting a little bit too close with the losers of the class. He felt their eyes staring into the back of his head as he walked past them, their words hurting as they hit him.

Milo felt his body wanting to move faster but didn't want to make it look obvious that he was hurt by their words. He didn't want them to know that they were winning. Milo was used to being bullied at school, he had grown used to just powering through their insults, through their words. He learned to make it seem like they weren't achieving anything and that they would get the message and stop trying to destroy you.

It was when the jock grabbed Milo by the back of his shirt and tried to shove him into a locker that Milo realized how different the tiny city was. He heard a few people trying to stand up for him, seeing Danny trying to stand up for him before the jock could get Milo all the way into the locker.

He heard his friend standing up to some guy who was at least twice his size both in height and with how defined his muscles were. Milo almost wanted to tell Danny to run, but he noticed that Danny seemed to know what he was doing, having dealt with this jock before.

Milo saw Danny move forward, obviously not afraid of the jock, calling him Dash, which Milo then figured was the name of the jock. He heard a scoff from Dash, Milo's feet hitting the floor as he was let go of. He tried to see what happened but Danny seemed to move too fast for him to see anything.

How did Danny move that fast? Milo tried to watch him but only saw a blur. When Dash ran, Milo decided to blame the fact that he had been held by the neck, Dash holding pretty tight so he probably hadn't had enough oxygen in his brain.

Danny picked him up from the ground, Milo thanking him and asking what happened. Danny just shrugged it off and told him that Dash tended to underestimate him. He felt that it was nothing and just liked being able to help somebody else when they needed it.

Milo thanked him graciously and continued on with his day.

The next several days were similar, people still avoiding him except for Tucker and Danny, Sam only just starting to warm up to him and his enjoyment of witchcraft like hers. He still felt welcomed, more than any other town, and his dad had gotten a promotion. He was happy, and Milo was actually starting to get happy that they wouldn't be moving, too.

. . .

It had been about two months since Milo moved in. He found himself hanging out with Tucker and Danny a bit more, the guys being very welcoming to the area. At least, more welcoming than any other friends had been in any other towns. But everything was still very secret from Milo, the whispers in the halls still happening every day. He listened to the kids talking about him, talking about Phantom, talking about Sam. He felt the pull inside of him to talk to Sam, to understand why she had done this to herself, changed herself to an almost inhuman being.

In their first class, Sam raised her hand, just like she had on the first day of school. Milo saw her sneak out of the class, silent as always. Milo raised his hand as well and the teacher excused him, Sam, not even looking back to see who was excused, the door had just closed behind her. Milo slinked just behind Sam, trying to avoid being noticed. He felt the air around him gaining the static feeling that Sam usually gave off, but instead saw Tucker and Danny standing in a small side hall with fewer classrooms, waiting for Sam.

She seemed to smile as the boys waved her over, their hands moving too quickly for Milo to see what they were grabbing from what looked like their lockers, he saw a couple of pictures of the three of them hanging on the inside of the doors before they were slammed closed. Danny and Tucker whispered something to Sam, her nodding making Milo realize that something was going on but he couldn't tell what.

He saw Danny frown for a moment, a small flash of light making Milo blink. When he opened his eyes he saw Sam and Tucker standing by the sides of some new kid. He didn't see where Danny had gone. Instead, was some young teen that looked like he was glowing. His hair and eyes were unnatural colors, his outfit slick and pitch black. He took the witchcraft book from Sam and Milo felt his voice as it traveled through the air, sounding like Danny's with radio static behind it.

Tucker shooed the two away, grabbing his computer from his locker and typing up what looked like an exact replica of a teacher's excuse note. Milo walked over to Tucker, Sam, and who he assumed was Phantom, had phased through the ceiling. Milo sat next to Tucker silently. He slid onto the floor and let himself breathe for a moment before speaking.

"Was that Phantom?"

Tucker jumped a bit, his computer screen being closed quickly. He saw that Milo was in a lot of shock, probably having seen more than Tucker would have wanted. He tried to figure out what to say, not knowing how to make Milo feel any better.

"That was. How much did you see or hear?"

Milo let out a small laugh, the emotion behind it missing, almost nothing being felt.

"Probably more than you wanted me to see. I didn't hear much though, just followed Sam when she left class."

Tucker reopened his computer, typed Milo's name into the document and printed it on a travel printer in his locker. He handed it to Milo and sighed.

"This will get you out of class for the day. Me, Danny, and Sam will meet you outside of FentonWorks in a couple of hours. There's a lot more to this town than you know."

Milo took the paper to the teacher, grabbing his stuff before darting to the building labeled as FentonWorks. He saw Danny and Sam standing outside, Tucker running not too far behind Milo to make it to the building. They saw the boy in shock, Danny's eyes flashing an unnatural green for a moment as he phased his arm into the door to unlock it, obviously not being able to find his key.

"Guys, what's going on?"

Milo tried to get the three to open up to him, their mouths closed tightly until they were locked in Danny's bedroom, Sam and Tucker feeling at home in the room while Milo felt more awkward than ever.

"I'm sorry you had to be introduced into this madness the hard way, Milo."

"You seemed like a good friend. I thought we would be able to trust you eventually anyway, but I'm sorry you found out the hard way."

Danny motioned for Milo to sit down, forcing him to feel like he was on the spot. The other three all seemed to know what was going to happen, but a feeling of dread filled Milo's stomach.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Milo sank back, Danny, Tucker, and Sam finally relaxing a little bit. He saw that they were on the brink of laughing, while still being serious.

"Bro we don't mean to scare you or anything. Just know that this is a bit of a serious topic because you will be the fifth person to know Phantom's secret identity."

Tucker put a hand on his shoulder, Milo giving them strange looks. He saw the three friends give each other looks, checking the lock on the door one more time. He saw that it was locked and that there were no cars in the driveway, Danny's family obviously gone from the house.

"Milo, I'm Danny Fenton, right?"

Milo nodded his head to Danny. His mind racing to piece together what was going on.

"I'm also Danny Phantom."

Milo didn't understand at first. How could he be both people, they were so different and so unique, and yet he saw one of them vanish and the other appear. He started to question, but Sam shushed him quickly.

"Stop. It was a lab accident that I forced Danny into. He walked into his parent's ghost portal and turned it on at my request. He died."

"HALF- died. I'm only half-ghost."

"Right. So I half-killed my best friend. That's why I had a map to the Ghost Zone in that book."

Milo sat in silence, hearing what was going on. He almost wanted to scream in frustration. He had been lied to, had probably just been pranked because he was the new kid in the school. Because he was different. He felt the anger, the hurt, the confusion bubbling beneath his skin.

The other three in the room began explaining things to him, that he was on the list of people to trust because they generally didn't make friends, even when new people arrived at school. And most people generally knew about the ghosts that haunted the town, but Milo was clueless.

He looked around and saw smiling faces looking back at him, saw that they were proud to admit him into their friend group. He saw them looking at him, almost a little worried when it took him a minute to understand that they were happy with Milo, not just trying to make him feel stupid.

Danny even gave him proof that he was half-ghost, giving off the chill in the air, showing that with how often Sam was working with Danny was why she was having side effects. Tucker always got them excuses to be late to class, ways to beat the ghosts a little bit easier each time. Tucker wasn't close to the ghostly beings as much as Sam was.

Milo put the pieces in place, his glasses being pushed up his nose slightly before Sam ruffled his hair for a moment, calling him a dork. He felt his friends try and pick him up off the floor where he had been sitting. He was still in shock at what they had done, what they had said. Still in shock that he had made friends that actually trusted him like nobody else ever had. He smiled as they began telling him stories, letting Milo feel even more welcome in the small city of Amity Park.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Brains or Muscles

a/n: this will be the first of my descendants series for skz! comment if you want a part 2 or which boy you want next!! idk why i did this in third person 

Stray Kids as Descendants 

WARNINGS: n/a........it is so weird to type that for me

Summary: Jeongin has always been quite quiet. He was one of the Descendants who tended to slip into the background. His parents weren't considered royalty in Auradon and he mostly kept to himself besides occasionally talking to Cinderella's son, Bangchan. He most certainly didn't expect the daughter of Hercules to talk to him one day.

Genre: descendants!au, nerd&jock!au, romance, fluff

Jeongin took after his mother, Kida in every aspect except for the fact that Jeongin was not brave. He was not strong, and he certainly was not a leader. While his appearance was his mother's, his personality was much like his father, Milo's. His head was almost always buried in a book, and punctuality was certainly not his specialty.

Such as now.

The white haired boy sprinted into Auradon prep, papers flying behind him. Jeongin had spent most of the previous night entranced in some maps his father had sent him. He didn't mean to oversleep, he had set an alarm.........he was pretty sure he set an alarm.

"Second warning, Jeongin!" Fairy Godmother yelled as a flash of white and blue raced passed her. Just as the bell tolled across the campus, Jeongin burst into his History of Auradon class. The teacher sighed and motioned for him to sit down and with a bright red blush on his ears and cheeks, he did.

Nervously he looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching him, laughing at him. Everyone seemed to turn back to the lecture except for one pair of eyes. A small smirk perched on the girl's lips and she had a sort of twinkle in her eye. Quickly he looked away before his cheeks turned a deeper red.

He had often seen her with Chan, Cinderella's son. Chan needed tutoring sometimes and Jeongin was always happy to help after Chan's practice had ended. He wasn't sure of their relationship, but he knew that the girl, Y/n was one of the only two girls in the history of Auradon to be put on the Tourney team. It was a brutal sport, one that only a daughter of Hercules would be thrilled to play. And.....some part of him wanted to be apart of it too.

Jeongin didn't have many friends. He wasn't part of any club. He mostly kept to himself, his studies, and his maps. But there was this deep desire to be part of that team. At first he thought maybe he just wanted to have some more friends. But the more he watched the practices and watched the team, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She was so strong and powerful. He honestly thought it made her more beautiful. He had heard some of the other girls in school shame Y/n for even trying out for the team.

Something about her fascinated him. Like she was a map with a secret for him to find. Jeongin's day continued as normal. At four o'clock he went to the field where he waited for Chan in the bleachers. Tourney practice was just ending and two figures started climbing the stairs toward Jeongin. His heart stopped when he saw Y/n coming up with Chan. She had her H/c pushed back and beads of sweat lay on her forehead making her skin have a shimmering effect in the sunlight.

"Jeongin! You didn't wait long did you?" Chan clapped him on the back with a smile. "No. Of course not. Not at all." His words stumbled out of his mouth as if they were tripping over themselves. "It was a great practice. You were fantastic, Y/n." She looked surprise at the mention of her name. In all honesty she did not think Jeongin would want to talk to her. Most boys that weren't on the team were too intimidated by her. "Oh....um thanks. Jeongin right? You're the one keeping this idiot on the team?"

He couldn't do much else but nod. "Do you like Tourney?" Jeongin mentally cursed himself for simply nodding again. His mother would be appalled at his actions.

"Why don't you try out then?"

"Jeongin? Play Tourney? Y/n have you seen him? No offense, Innie." Jeongin blushed at Chan's nickname for him. His shoes suddenly became very fascinating.

"Seriously. A few weeks of training and I bet I could get him in your position, Mr. Linebacker."

"I will gladly take that bet."

"The usual then?"

"Of course."

They shook hands and she smirked. Before Jeongin could react Y/n had take the books in his arms and shoved them at Chan. "I'll be taking your tutor then." She threw and arm over Jeongin's shoulder and guided the two of them down the steps.

"Wait whose going to tutor me?"

"Ask Seungmin!!"

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

That night Jeongin sat on his bed in sweats and a t-shirt looking over another of his dad's maps. Woojin his roommate had long gone to sleep and was snoring quietly on the other side of the room.

A knock broke the silence of the room. No one ever came this late, not even room checks. Usually Woojin's friends left about ten. Maybe one of them forgot something?

Jeongin winced as his bare feet padded against the freezing wood floor. Opening the door he found Y/n standing with a bright smile. "Do you have the wrong room number?" She couldn't possibly be looking for him.....could she?

"No. This is your room." Jeongin stood in confused silence for a seconds before again asking a question. "Is this about the history notes? Cause I can give you mine." As he turned back into the room she stopped him. "Do you not remember this afternoon?"

"You weren't joking?"

"Do you think I would casually bet The Suspicious Purchase?"

"What's The Suspicious Purchase?"

She shrugged and tugged on his wrist. "I'll tell you later. Come on! We have training to do." Y/n dragged Jeongin down the hall, a big smile plastered on her face.

The night air was cool and a warm spring wind blew across their faces. Jeongin quietly followed the girl he had admired from afar all the way to the Tourney field. The lights were on illuminating the bright green grass. Y/n turned to the boy with white hair when they had reached the edge of the field. She couldn't help but notice the sharp angles of the boy's face which were hidden by his large round spectacles.

"Take off the hoodie. Let's see what we have to work with." Nervously Jeongin removed the hoodie and stood in a tank top that he hoped he had remembered to wash. She eyed him up and down and made a circle around him as well.

He was nervous.

He had already spent more time and said more words to her than ever before. She was quite pleasantly surprised to find a little bit of muscle on the boy. She tried to ignore how cute he looked in something other than a button up. "Okay! You know the rules of Tourney, yes?" Jeongin nodded with a smile. "My mom loves Tourney." The smile didn't go unnoticed by Y/n at the mention of his mother.

"Whose your mother?"

"Kida."

"That explains the hair."

They both chuckled before returning to an awkward silence. Jeongin kept asking himself what his mother would say. She always knew exactly the right thing to say and never doubted her words or confidence.

However it was Y/n to break the silence. "I thought we could start with the track to get your endurance up." Jeongin nodded once again with a smile and followed her to the track that bordered the field. "You don't talk much do you?" A blush creeped up his cheeks as they started to jog. "Sorry...I'm just not used to having someone to talk to."

His words stuck with her. She recalled every time she had seen him. Each time he was alone. No friends. He was always by himself. "Well now you do. And you better not leave anything out." She chuckled and nudged his arm.

For the next hour she trained him for try outs. Jeongin struggled but he put on a brave face and did everything she asked with a smile. He knew that in the end this would be good for him. Not only would he be on the team, but he would be closer to Y/n.

She kept him talking the entire time. Jeongin couldn't quite understand what she found so interesting about him. Truly Y/n wanted to know the boy. He was always so quiet and shy. She hated seeing him left out of groups at school.

Every night for the next two weeks she came to his door. They would train together. She never left him behind and always made sure he was going at his own pace. And a funny thing happened. People started noticing Jeongin. Maybe it was this new glow he had about him. Or how he felt more confident in his body. Or maybe it was the fact that Y/n walked down the hall with him everyday without fail. Jeongin was happy. He had friends and people actually liked talking to him. He even got quite close to Y/n’s brother, Changbin.

The night before tryouts however, Y/n didn’t show up at his dorm. Woojin had gotten quite used to his roommate going out so he often stayed up until he left. “Maybe she thought you didn’t need anymore training?” Jeongin shook his head as he watched the door, shoulders slumped and heavy. She had confirmed the time with him earlier that day. The clock chimed one and Jeongin shot up from his bed and threw on his jacket. “Where are you going?”

“To find Y/n.”

The white haired boy wandered the dark halls looking for her room number. He knew she shared a room with Jasmine and Pocahontas's daughters, but what was the number again?

After walking up and down the corridor he finally found the right room. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door. He pushed his doubts away as the wooden door opened. But, it wasn’t the girl he wanted to see. Serina, Jasmine’s daughter opened the door with a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. 

“Oh. Well isn’t this unexpected.”

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You’re here for the tramp?” His face twisted at the word. Was this normal for girls? He didn’t know. “One minute, blondie.” She left the frame, but her voice could be heard in the hall. 

“Hey Tramp! One of your boyfriends is at the door. You’d better go see him.”

The laughter that followed stabbed at his heart and his smile started to fall from his face. It dropped completely when he saw Y/n’s form shuffle to the door, her head down in shame. 

“Jeongin....now’s not a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jeongin had to stop her from closing the door on him. His mind tried to desperately find an excuse for her to come out with him. “My dad...he-uh....just sent me a new map. I was wondering if you wanted to check it out with me.” Jeongin’s eyes glanced behind her to the two girls who were doing nothing to hide their laughter.

“Please?” He asked once more.

Slowly she lifted her head and Jeongin tried to keep a straight face when he saw her tears.Y/n nodded slowly and closed the door without a sound. The two students walked in silence, not particularly going anywhere. Each thought they were following the other, but somehow both ended up at the center of the Tourney field again.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

Her hair blew in the night wind as she faced away from Jeongin. "It's fine." Was all she said. But Jeongin knew. He had said those words many times before and it never meant what he said.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He was met with silence. Looking around he saw a pair of the focus mitts lying on the bench. He picked them up and began slipping his hands into the back slot. He tapped her shoulder gently, with a small smile.

"Come on! Give me a tap."

With a sad laugh she wiped her tears away. She gave the pad a little love tap and then looked at Jeongin.

"No. For real. You can do better than that."

She hit it a little harder this time. She watched Jeongin shake his head with a tiny smile. The next time she hit the pad hard enough for Jeongin's hand to recoil the tiniest bit.

"You are the daughter of Hercules. I know you can do better. Come on!"

Y/n stared at the gloves for a moment and the sadness came back into her eyes. With the swiftness only a demigod could have she struck the glove again and again. Her final punch sent Jeongin flying twenty feet back.

"OH MY GOD, JEONGIN! I AM SO SORRY!"

"It's fine!"

She ran over and kneeled next to the boy as he lay on the ground. Frantically she took off the gloves and checked every bone in his hands. Jeongin watched her intently as she held his hand with such care. Worriedly she helped him sit up and winced with him when she pushed to hard on his shoulder.

"Do you feel better?" The blonde boy said with a genuine smile that lit up the night. She nodded and looked into Jeongin's eyes. "Thank you." Without thinking about it she brought her lips to his cheek to place a chaste kiss on his skin. It was like an instinct from a past life that felt natural and safe in the moment.

She froze when she realized what she had done. Jeongin's eyes turned to saucers and every muscle in his body went rigid and he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in every part of him. He hoped to God it was too dark to see the bright red blush on his ears and cheeks.

"I am so sorry!"

"No-no it's....it's fine....I uh-"

There was an awkward silence and each of them were hoping the other didn't see the heat on their cheeks. Each were hoping the other would speak. Each were hoping the other would make the next move.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Jeongin?"

"Umm.....could you maybe close your eyes for a second?"

"Umm....okay...."

Hesitantly she closed her eyes and Jeongin couldn't help but take in every single aspect of her face. The lines of her nose. The angle in her cheeks. The creases near her eyes. He did something he never though he could.

He kissed her.

Y/n wasn't surprised when she felt his lips on hers. She couldn't help but smile at how gentle and soft the kiss was. He flinched away slightly when her hand placed itself on his chest just below his shoulder. To his surprise she didn't pull away, instead she returned his kiss ten fold.

After a moment he pulled away and looked down at the field. Y/n couldn't stop the blush on her cheeks from the moment they had shared and she smiled even wider when she caught glimpse of the cute grin Jeongin was trying to hide.

"Can I walk you back to your room?"

"I would love that."

Like a gentleman Jeongin took her hand and helped her off the ground and he didn't let go of it as the two started walking back to the dorms.

The morning of try outs Jeongin ran joyfully to the Tourney field. His shy grin fell into place on his lips when he saw Y/n waving to him near Chan and her brother. A flush came over his ears when she greeted him with a happy kiss, her arms draping around his neck.

“Well....that’s new.”

Both boys looked at the pair in question and shock. Changbin eyed Jeongin up and down in a way only a brother could. “So, Jeongin, are you ready for try outs?” A smirk played on Chan’s lips. Before Jeongin could slip into old habits Y/n placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Of course. He’s got this in the bag. You better watch out, Chan. He’s coming for your spot.” 

Chan scoffed as the coach’s whistle blew calling all players to the field.With a smile Y/n sent Jeongin off and joined the two boys on the bleachers to watch. She watched with pride as Jeongin passed through each tier with ease. She could see the smile on his face as he played the scrimmage and cheered loudly anytime the white haired boy scored or completed a tackle. 

Beside her Chan was dumbfounded at the sheer force and speed the skinny boy had. The second the coach blew the final whistle he knew he was screwed. Head in his hands Changbin and Y/n dragged him onto the field to hear the results. Jeongin found reassurance in Y/n’s words and the grip she held on his gloved hand.

“New team members are as follows.”

He held his breath.

“Byun Baekhyun; Goalie.”

Y/n rubbed her thumb over his hand.

“Yang Jeongin; Linebacker. Thank you all for trying out. See you at practice on Tuesday.”

Y/n screamed and turned to Jeongin with the brightest smile her brother had ever seen her wear. “You did it!” He was still shocked as he embraced her. The team came over and congratulated the new members with excitement. Chan’s face fell when Y/n turned to him with an impish grin.

“Chan, we should get going shouldn’t we? I forgot that I need to go shopping!”

Ten minutes later Chan, Y/n, Jeongin, and Changbin piled out of her car into the most busiest grocery store parking lot. “Why are we here again?” Jeongin whispered to Bin. “This is their usual punishment for losing a bet.” 

Jeongin followed silently behind Y/n as she led the boys down an aisle. The devilish look returned on her face when she pulled three items off various shelves. His eyes widened when she shoved them into Chan’s arms. 

“Check out on your card, no talking. Oh and don’t forget to smile.” With a dejected sigh Chan stepped into the busiest line and groaned when he saw a girl, specifically the daughter of Dr. Facilier, who Chan had grown a crush on. Y/n and her brother laughed at their luck as the watched near the exit. 

Jeongin just watched still not fully understanding the punishment. With the most innocent and largest smile he had seen Chan put the biggest cucumber they could find, condoms, and lube on the conveyor. You could see the heat on his ears and the sweat on his forehead as he tried to keep the smile.

The girl looked up at him with an arched eyebrow as she saw the items roll down the conveyor. “You Auradon kids are weird.” She rang him up and chuckled as he took the bag not dropping the smile. Jeongin couldn’t help but laugh two as Chan turned and walked towards them with tears almost in his eyes.

Y/n and Changbin fell onto the floor in a fit of laughter muttering incoherent sentences. After they had calmed down Jeongin helped her up and took her hand as they exited the store. 

“What’s with that smile?” She asked as the setting sun illuminated the boy’s face in a golden orange glow. He turned towards her and looked at the girl he was lucky to call his now.

“I just feel comfortable being myself around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel like I have to be my mother or my father when I’m with you. I just feel like me.”

“Well....I think I like you.”

Jeongin smiled and leaned down to connect their lips in Auradon’s last few minutes of setting sun.

Requests Open

Masterlist

[themurphyzone]

Absolutely Disastrous Ch 8

Ch 8: Lost in the Woods! Another Costumed Weirdo?

“I think we’re lost.”

“We’re not lost. We’ve taken a slight detour from the recommended path.”

“So we’re lost.”

“Think of it as the scenic route,” Milo suggested, looking at his map again. Before he could show Melissa and Zack their current location in the Petalburg Woods, a Linoone snatched the paper out of his hands and disappeared into a clump of berry bushes.

Unfazed, Milo brought out a second map. “Okay, so we’re near a bunch of Oran trees right now, so if we head north we should see some birches and hang the second right.”

Zack groaned, resting his back against a mossy rock. “Too bad everything looks the same.”

“I also have a topography map, a latitude map, and a map of Silph Co’s ventilation and teleporter system,” Milo said. “Never really understood their teleporter thing. Seems kinda bad for employee morale.”

They’d been wandering around Petalburg Woods all morning, and so far they’d had little luck making sense of their surroundings. Every tree looked the same, packed together so densely that it was almost impossible to tell where one tree ended and another began. He’d heard ghost stories of a forest in Sinnoh. According to the tales, it was always nighttime because the sun’s rays never reached the ground, making it a prime spot for ghosts to lure unsuspecting travelers to their dilapidated manor.

Dr. Magnezone fans loved using Sinnoh’s folklore and ghost stories as inspiration. Milo once saw Sara cry over a fanfic where Dr. Magnezone had to search for a Lunar Wing to relieve Time Infernape of a Darkrai-inflicted nightmare before the stress killed him.

“Hey, let’s break for a bit,” Melissa said. She laid down on a large protruding root. “I can’t wait to get out of forest territory.”

Milo found a cozy spot next to a fallen log, and Zack reclined against a tree trunk.

“Zack, there’s gotta be some spooky tales in Johto,” Milo said. “You should tell us one!”

“Yeah, spill!” Melissa prodded Zack in the arm.

Zack winced and rubbed his arm. “Do you cut your nails into claws or something?”

Melissa shrugged. “I jab hard, Underwood. You gonna tell us a ghost story or what?”

“Neither of you are gonna let up until I tell you one, huh?” Zack sighed.

“Nope!” Milo and Melissa chorused. Diogee looked up from his water bowl, red eyes boring expectantly into Zack.

“Fine,” Zack said. “This one isn’t for the faint of heart, so be warned.”

Milo and Melissa leaned forward in anticipation.

“Two millennia ago, a beautiful maiden fell in love with a soldier. One day, the soldier had to go fight in a distant land. As the maiden watched him disappear over the horizon, she swore she would never fall in love with anyone else, and that she would always look towards the ocean in anticipation of his return.”

Milo’s eyes started to water. Melissa gripped her skirt tightly.

“The years passed, but she still waited. Every suitor was turned down, all attempts to coax her away from the cliff failed. Eventually, a deity took pity on her. She agreed to be transformed into a statue atop the cliff so she could continue watching the horizon. The deity also appointed a messenger Pokémon to maintain the house and keep the maiden’s soul company while she kept her eternal vigil. To this day, she continues to wait and pray.”

Milo wiped away a stray tear, and Diogee had to carefully nudge him a few feet so a tree didn’t crash on top of him.

“That was…sad,” Melissa admitted. “How ‘bout something in the horror department to even it out?”

“Gimme a minute,” Milo said, burying his face into Diogee’s fur to calm himself down. “I got one.”

He took a deep breath, holding a flashlight under his chin for added dramatic effect. Zack drew a sharp breath.

“Once there was a little girl who lived in a cottage. Her mommy and daddy scrounged and begged and pleaded for scraps of food, for they were poorer than dirt,” Milo began, keeping his voice so low that Melissa and Zack had to strain to hear him.

He paced as he continued the story, feeling three sets of innocent eyes processing every word and movement. Milo smirked and continued. “One day, the little girl was left alone in the house. As she did her daily chores like any good child would do, she looked out the window. A doll laid in the dirt, its seams torn and one of its button eyes missing. It was ugly and nobody would’ve spared a second glance. But the little girl took pity on the doll and fixed it up with the only bolt of spare fabric her family had.”

“Oh no,” Zack whispered. Melissa elbowed him.

“When the last seam was closed, the doll offered to grant three wishes for the little girl. First, she wished that her family would never go hungry again. That night, her parents came home to find a feast fit for a royal banquet waiting for them. The little girl showed them the doll and explained what she’d done, and her parents were too grateful to question her any further. But trouble arose when the mother didn’t have material to make new clothes with, so the little girl asked the doll for endless wealth so her mother could purchase the finest and rarest silks and wool. The doll granted the second wish, and the family lived happily for many years.”

“The little girl grew into a beautiful woman, and she attracted the attention of a prince. They courted for a while, and the woman showed him the doll who’d saved her family from poverty. Disgusted by its horrible appearance, the prince broke off their engagement and rode away into the night. Because she still loved him, the woman asked the doll to grant her final wish: have the prince fall back in love with her. Once it was granted, the woman laid the doll on her childhood bed and went back to the castle. She planned to never return to the cottage and sever all ties with her poverty-filled life to make sure the prince stayed in love with her.”

Milo paused. The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

“The woman married the prince and forgot all about the doll. But the doll never forgot her. It granted all her wishes without complaint. It kept her company for ten years. And now it laid in a dark room, never to see the sun again. Anger consumed its mind. Oh, how it thirsted for vengeance. It flew to the castle on an otherworldly energy, and there it spotted the woman, brushing her hair…alone.”

He could see the whites of Zack’s eyes, and Milo crept closer, curling his hands into claws and looming as best he could.

“It crept closer…closer…closer…” Milo punctuated each word with a silent step until he hovered over Zack. Zack pressed himself against the tree with a strangled yelp.

“-and then it POUNCED!”

“AIYEEEH!”

Milo pulled Zack to his feet, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “Oh man!” Milo doubled over. “That was, ha! Got you real good!”

Zack just stared at him. “I didn’t scream.”

“Wasn’t me either,” Melissa said. “Believe me, you would know if Zack screamed cause he sounds like a plucked Swellow. Whoever screamed a few minutes ago has more of a tone-deaf Loudred combined with a sick Swablu frequency.”

“I don’t sound like a plucked Swellow,” Zack mumbled.

“NO! DON’T TAKE MY PAPERS!”

Everyone jumped to their feet as a terrified businessman rushed past their resting spot and tripped over a large root. His briefcase spilled open, papers fluttering all around him. He dazedly shoved them back into the briefcase, muttering several curses to himself.

“Hand over those papers, old man!” another voice snarled.

The other man was dressed in a lava-red uniform, a stylized ‘M’ emblazoned across his chest. His hood had two strange horns on top. Milo stared at him, wondering why someone would choose to wear a thick red onesie in Hoenn’s tropical climate.

Diogee growled menacingly, only backing off when Milo gestured for him to stand down until they figured out what happened.

“What’s going on here?” Melissa asked.

“He’s trying to rob me!” the businessman shouted. “I swear, all I did was stop to take pictures of a Shroomish-I’ve always liked that Pokémon, you see-and Hoodie there jumped me and tried to steal my documents!”

“How many times have I told you to quit calling me Hoodie? It’s Ignacio! I-G-N-A-C-I-O!”

His protests went ignored as the group collected all the stray papers and put them back into the suitcase.

“Thank you, children,” the businessman gasped breathlessly. “I’m just gonna be going now and-“

Ignacio scowled. “You aren’t going anywhere! Hand over those papers or face the wrath of Team Magma!”

He posed dramatically, which would’ve looked a lot more threatening if he’d chosen a target without knowledge of meme culture.

Ignacio released a Zigzagoon and Koffing. “You’ve trampled on Team Magma’s dreams, and that’s unforgivable! For I am the Magma Grunt Ignacio who stands for humanity’s brighter tomorrow! In the name of Groudon, I shall incinerate you!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be saying love and justice or something?” Melissa asked.

“I wanted to, but it was copyrighted,” Ignacio admitted. “Seriously, I’m not a monster. I respect copyright law.”

“Whatever. I’ll sit this one out, boys,” Melissa said, dragging the businessman out of the way. “While you kick his butt, I’ll be organizing my photos.”

“I don’t remember you taking photos,” Zack said.

Melissa smirked. “I work in mysterious ways.”

“Enough babbling!” Ignacio sneered. “You fools will know the wrath of the 27th ranked Magma goon!”

“That’s supposed to be a bragging point?” Zack scoffed as he sent out Treecko.

Treecko chewed on his stick placidly as he sized up his opponents. Diogee moved into position, eyes fixated on Koffing.

Living near Mt. Chimney had long acquainted Milo and Diogee with the local Pokémon and their habits. Machop liked to test their strength by weightlifting Geodude, and one should never disturb their contests unless they wanted 44.1 pounds of living rock hurtled at them. Numel preferred sand baths, and Torkoal could only distinguish between light and dark.

On the Murphy Ranch, they sometimes had to announce the Purple Protocol in the event of a Koffing wandering onto the property. Its smoke and poisonous gas was harmful to the developing lungs of young humans and Absol, so all minors were to stay inside until the adults had gotten rid of the smoke and contained the Koffing until it could be relocated.

And it had the only type advantage on the current battlefield.

This was gonna be interesting.

“Create a Smokescreen cover!” Ignacio ordered. “Zigzagoon, Quick Attack on Treecko!”

Black gas spewed out of Koffing’s pores, obscuring it from view. Treecko braced himself, eyes trained on the smoke.

There was a slight rustle in the bushes behind Treecko, and a blurred shape shot out.

“Look out!” Zack yelled.

Zigzagoon knocked Treecko off-balance, though Treecko managed to dislodge it with a Pound. Soon the two were engaged in a high-speed Quick Attack fight.

Meanwhile, Milo and Diogee were trying to locate Koffing inside all the black haze with no luck.

Ignacio smirked. “Use Sludge!”

“Diogee, watch out!” Milo warned, but it was too late. Diogee’s eyes were covered in an inky material. Rearing back on his hind legs, Diogee unleashed several Cut attacks in random directions. One of them hit Koffing in the middle of its skull pattern, and another clipped Treecko’s tail. Zigzagoon emerged unscathed, though it panted heavily from exertion.  

A pile of splintered wood and apples crashed to the ground. There were some indignant squawks from bird Pokémon above, but none of them came down to disrupt the battle.

Zack snapped his fingers. “Use Mega Drain on Zigzagoon and get your strength back,” he said.

Zigzagoon was too dazed to follow Ignacio’s instructions to dodge, and a bright green glow lit up its body. The energy flowed into Treecko’s fingertips, rejuvenating him instantly.

“Great! Now grab those apples and stuff ‘em into Koffing’s pores!” Zack exclaimed.

Upon hearing his command, Melissa stuffed her unfinished scrapbook into her bag and hauled the businessman to his feet. “Zack, you do realize-“

Zack had a gleam in his eye.

“Uh, Melissa, I think your battle style’s rubbing off on him,” Milo said awkwardly.

Treecko grabbed a handful of apples and weaved around Koffing, easily outmaneuvering the Poison-type. Within minutes, Koffing’s pores were plugged, Treecko dusting his hands triumphantly.

“C’mon, blow those apples out!” Ignacio screeched.

Koffing groaned, eyes squeezed shut as it tried to blow the apples out. But Treecko had jammed them tightly, and only minuscule amounts of gas leaked into the air. With one last inhale, a glowing Koffing dropped into Treecko’s arms.

Treecko blinked for a moment, then tossed Koffing at Zack and hid behind Melissa, who backed away slowly.

“ACK!” Zack screamed and tossed the Poison-type at Milo.

“It’s using Self-Destruct!” Milo yelped, striking Koffing with a two-handed serve that would’ve made a professional volleyball player proud.

The Koffing landed in the businessman’s arms. The man paled immediately. “GlorytoArceusinthehighest,” he muttered a prayer rapidly in some ancient language Milo wasn’t even sure existed in their dimension.

“Quit being a baby!” Melissa snapped, yanking Koffing out of his arms and hurling it at Ignacio’s face.

But since Melissa was Melissa, she only managed to toss it one foot.

Koffing unceremoniously fell to the ground, its glow almost blinding.

“Diogee, follow my voice!” Milo yelled, grabbing Diogee’s horn once he was close enough and guiding him out of the blast radius.

“COWARDS!” Ignacio shook his fist as everyone fled the immediate vicinity. “WE IN TEAM MAGMA ALWAYS STAND OUR GROUND! FOR WE ARE PILLARS OF HUMANITY, UNYIELDING IN RESOLVE AND PUTTING OUR FOOT DOWN ON ALL MATTERS AND CRUSHING THOSE WHO OPPOSE US!”

“We should put him and Patchy in a room together,” Melissa remarked. “Who needs primetime television when you’ve got them?”

“You might want to reconsider your foot position,” Milo called to Ignacio.

Ignacio glanced down, his eyes widening to comical proportions.

“Well, crud.”

Koffing exploded in a glorious blaze of white light.

“Don’t worry,” Melissa told the trembling businessman, who seemed convinced that he would be arrested for environmental disturbances and manslaughter. “It’s just his pride that didn’t survive.”

AN: Ghost of Maiden’s Peak took place in Kanto, not Johto, but they share the same landmass so what the hey.

Using Koffing as a beach ball is ill-advised.

And now Team Magma is on the scene! Things are picking up!

[sldlovescartoons]

No Real Reason

It was strangely quiet in the Murphy home when Martin got home from work. Nothing was on fire, the door was intact, no windows were broken. Was there something wrong? He could hear faint whispering from the living room from outside the front door. He didn’t have a good feeling.

“Hey, it’s awful quiet in here, is something wrong?” Martin asked as soon as he opened the door, but he immediately got his answer when looked over to the couch and saw Bridgette and Sara by a quivering ball of blankets that he could only assume was his son, whispering comforting words only to be meet with sniffles and whines. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, when I picked him and Sara up from school he just started crying.” Mrs. Murphy sighed, rubbing the top of the lump of blankets, right around where Milo back was. “We think something happened at school.”

“He was really quiet while we were waiting for Mom to show up, he won’t talk to us.” Sara said, looking really worried for her brother. Milo was had just started Kindergarten a few months ago and was having a tough time. Some of the other kids picked on him, and he had even managed to attract the ire of some older boys when murphy’s law struck during lunch time and Milo accidently covered them in yogurt. The school had talked to the boy’s parents, but that had only seemed to make the boys angrier, he was tattle tale now.

“Awwwhhh, buddy.” Martin murmured as he walked up to the couch, before looking and his wife and child. “Can I have minute alone with him?”

“Sure, come on, Sara, let’s get started on dinner, huh?” Bridgette took Sara’s hand and lead her away.

“But I wanna see what happens.” Sara whined, peaking around the corner as she was pulled into the other room.

“Milo? Buddy, are you okay?” Martin asked, take a seat next to his wrapped-up son. After all he got in response was a sniffle, he reached over to try and remove the blanket enwrapping his son, only for Milo pull back fervently with a whine.

“Milo.”

He pulled again, no luck. So he reached over and picked up the lump of blankets, Milo and all, and the response was immediate. Milo started to cry out and flail out his limps in protest, wiggling around like tiny, little worm.

“Milo, Milo sto- OUF!” Martin grunted, his ribs having caught one his child’s furious fists. “Milo, stop, right now!” He scolded, pulling his sons squirming form closer until he calmed down a little. The blanket was pulled away from his little face, revealing tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes. Milo tried to cover his face with his hands, but he was stopped. “Hey, pal, what’s wrong? Kids picked on you today?”

“Yeah.” Milo nodded his little head. “I don’t get it, it’s not my fault those geese attacked the teacher, or that that shelf fell… or that that wall collapsed.” Milo looked mildly embarrassed now on top of the sadness.

“Rough day with murphy’s law, huh?” Martin ruffled his hair in some sort of attempt to make him feel better. “Is that all, you don’t normally take it this hard. Did something else happen?”

“Yes…” Milo was refusing to look him in the eye.

“You want to tell me what?”

“I’ll show you.” Milo mumbled, shaking off the blanket and lifting up his shirt, revealing the messy scrawl of a child spelling out the word ‘Jinx’ in giant letters.

“It was the older boys. They said if I told the teachers they’d beat me up, and that the next time they’d write it on my forehead.”

“Oh, Milo…” Martin mumbled, covering his mouth, before his sadness quickly turned to anger. “I ought to call those boys parents and-“

“Daddy, no! That’ll only make them more mad!” Milo shook his head rapidly, he wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t make the poor boy dizzy.

“Milo…”

“Daddy, please.” He looked up at his father with pleading eyes and Martin gave a nod. “Thank you…”

“I’m sorry this happened, pal.” Martin sighed, giving him a squeeze. Milo nuzzled his face into his side, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

“Why does this happen to us? It’s not fair, I didn’t do anything wrong.” Milo’s eyes started to water again and Martin started to hold him closer.

“Well, you have EHML, just like I do.” Martin explained rubbing his little boy back.

“What’s that?” He looked up to his father with ridiculously sad eyes.

“Extreme Hereditary Murphy’s Law, it’s a genetic condition, it’s passed down from father to son through our genes.”

“What does genies have to do with murphy’s law?” Milo seemed genuinely curious, at least he had stopped crying.

“Genes, son. It… well, it just means that all the men in our family are effected by murphy’s law, because of our genes.” Martin didn’t really want to explain to Milo the part where he and a bunch of his cousins went and got their genes mapped and discovered three markers on the Y chromosome that were found across the board that indicated a genetic condition shared between them. Maybe when he was older.

“But why?”

“Well, uh… we don’t know. We know that people with EHML get in the crosshairs of murphy’s law the more than other people, but we don’t know why, precisely. We just know it happens.” Martin shrugged his shoulders. “The science isn’t here yet to tell us that, but studies are being done.”

“Oh…” Milo looked back down.

“Look, buddy, you can’t let this get you down. Murphy’s law is going to follow you for the rest of your life, and you shouldn’t let bullies get to you either. They just don’t understand how special you are, and believe me, things will get better once the other kids realize you can’t help it, though they will probably always keep their distance.” Martin sighed. “You’ll get used to it eventually, pal, just hang in there. Though I really think you should at least talk to your teacher about what’s going on.”

“Okay.” Milo nodded gently.

“Okay, now how about a smile, huh?” Martin grinned at his son, and Milo gave him a tiny smile back. “No, not big enough… maybe if I tickle you!”

“No!” Milo giggled as his dad started to tickle at his sides. “Stop- hehehehe! Stop! HA! Daddy!”

The words were washed off that night in the bath and the event was forgotten.