#Older Vlad is the final boss

[lilianade-comics]

Another AU?!! You spoil us, honestly, I love them all!

It’s okay if you don’t want to answer this but- is younger Vlad the "loves Dani" Vlad or is there an AU Vlad in the mix? And does Dani get to interact with younger Vlad? If so how are they with each other? I can’t help feeling that it’s be awkward as heck if she’s already been rejected by older Vlad, esp. of D-Stabilized still happens, but she’d still be drawn to him regardless. And he’d def want a relationship with her… Id think.

Yep! Young Vlad is the one who loves Dani. This AU involves Dani becoming trapped in the mid 1980s, shortly after Vlad escapes the hospital. This is soon after Kindred Spirits for Dani, and in the present day Vlad is hunting her and she falls through a ghost zone time portal trying to get away from him and finds herself in Madison, Wisconsin in 1986. She encounters young Vlad and they strike up this awkward hesitant friendship because despite Vlad being a tortured, bitter, self absorbed tsundere even at the age of 24, he can identify with this strange runaway girl who was betrayed by someone who was supposed to care about her...

This AU is basically just a blend of horrible angst (Dani is actively dying and has to keep everything a secret from Vlad) and domestic fluff with 1980s flavoring lol. I won't be dropping the art posts until late December so stay tuned!

[disillusioneddanny]

You Are in Love Jazz/Cass

Jasmine Fenton let out a sigh as she followed behind her boss as they made their way across the large ballroom. It was the annual Wayne Charity Gala for Criminal Justice Reform and as a public defender at Gotham County Courthouse, Jazz was unfortunately obligated to be there rubbing elbows with rich, pretentious assholes. It was for a wonderful cause, and all of the money went to local nonprofit organizations that helped give people the life-saving resources that would keep them from reoffending or resorting to working for the Goonion as Jazz had heard it called.

When she had first graduated from Harvard Law, she hadn’t known what exactly she wanted to do. What kind of law she wanted to practice, who she wanted to help. And then Danny had told her about how bad Gotham was. After he had started working with Constantine and the rest of the Justice League Dark on the more magical problems, he had started to tell Jazz about all of the horrors of Gotham from when the bats called him there for assistance.

It was then that Jazz finally realized what it was that she was wanting to do. She wanted to help reform the horrible justice system that was the Gotham City justice system and help with the major crime that was going on there. So she had put in an application to be a public defender in Gotham County to help the most disenfranchised people of Gotham and she found her way to New Jersey of all places.

Four years later and the public defender’s office had been completely redone under the watchful eye of Jasmine Fenton and she had managed to make it work like a well oiled machine. She had helped partner with a few nonprofits who helped them work on their basic needs while the PD’s office focused more on helping them keep from going to prison or worse–Arkham.

It wasn’t a perfect system but it was getting better. So here she was, prepared to schmooze with the best of them to get more funding for all of the different organizations that were helping them reduce Gotham recidivism. For the first time in her life, Jazz found herself thankful for the lessons that she had received from Vlad when it came to trying to get people to give her money. Not that she would ever admit that to her godfather.

She plastered her most pleasant smile on her face as she floated through the ballroom, trying to not be self conscious of the fact that she was in a long, green ball gown that had already caused a few people to make comments about the fact that combined with her red hair was reminiscent of Poison Ivy. It was a little embarrassing but her girlfriend had told her multiple times that she looked good in it and that had her feeling a bit better. If her girlfriend thought it looked good, then it had to be.

She would never lie to Jazz.

Jazz was slightly suspicious that her girlfriend didn’t even know how to lie.

Teal eyes roved through the city as she eyed the other gala guests, looking for her next target. She really needed to find someone to chat with or else she was going to start looking a bit too awkward.

Then, her eyes landed on the most beautiful woman in the room and Jazz felt her stomach flutter a bit in anticipation as she made her way to Jazz.

Jasmine Fenton was a ruthless, cutthroat defense attorney. She scared Harvey Dent. Yet her girlfriend seemed to make her weak at the knees every time she so much as looked Jazz’s way.

Cassandra Wayne was the only daughter of Brucie Wayne, the playboy billionaire and host of their lovely gala for the night. Jazz had met her for the first time just two years prior when she had been forced to attend her first gala. The woman had been following Brucie around like a shadow, a pleasant, if not forced smile plastered onto her face as she followed the man around the room, sneaking glasses of champagne from her overly intoxicated father’s hand whenever she thought he had been drinking too much, or glaring menacingly at women who tried to approach the older man in attempts to get him to bring them home.

Then her eyes had landed on Jazz and she had given her the most genuine, beautiful smile that the redhead had ever seen. Jazz had found herself compelled to go over and talk to both Brucie and his daughter and it was probably the best decision she had ever made in her life. Bruce had managed to convince Cass to drift off with Jazz while he got into a long conversation with one of the DA’s who was also at attendance at that gala.

Which was fine with Jazz. The two ladies had found themselves chatting the rest of the night, trading stories, people watching, commiserating over the fact that they were forced to even be at a gala in the first place. And then as the night had come to an end, Cassandra had slipped Jazz a napkin with a phone number and a smiley face before she gave Jazz another one of those breathtaking smiles that had her swooning where she stood.

And really, the rest was history. The women had found themselves talking more and more, seeking one another out whenever they had the chance. Jazz had gone to see Cass’s ballet shows and Cass started to make weekly trips to the courthouse to make sure that the red head was eating properly and taking care of herself.

Somehow they had found themselves here. In a happy, comfortable relationship, living together in a nice brownstone in Upper Gotham and attending fancy galas together. Cass still followed her father like a shadow and Jazz still had to unfortunately kiss ass to a bunch of rich billionaires but sometime during the night they would find one another and get just a little too wrapped up in one another to even notice anyone else.

“Fancy seeing you here, beautiful,” a soft, polite voice said, as strong, calloused hands twined with Jazz’s dainty soft ones. Jazz looked down at her gorgeous, amazing, beautiful girlfriend and felt her cheeks go red like it was that first night all over again.

“I know, it’s almost like your father is hosting the charity ball,” Jazz said with a soft snort. Cass gave her that soft, secretive smile that always seemed to draw the older woman in.

Her kohl lined eyes rolled once as she glanced over at where Bruce was laughing loudly, throwing his arm over Oliver Queen’s shoulder as he laughed raucously, causing others to look over at him in thinly veiled disdain.

“Yes, he does enjoy coming to these,” Cass said, her nose crinkled ever so slightly. Jazz just gave her girlfriend a small smile.

“He seems to be really hamming it up tonight,” Jazz said with a laugh as her girlfriend just let out a tired sigh and shook her head. That was one of the fun parts of getting to know Cass, Jazz started to learn a bit more about all of the family and their treasure trove of secrets. She learned that Bruce Wayne wasn’t nearly as ditzy and arrogant as he let people think and was much more level headed and open. She had gotten to know each of Cass’s siblings as well and learn a bit more of each of them.

And then she had gotten to learn the real secret about the Waynes after dating her girlfriend for a year. She had learned about their nightly activities and had been more than excited to learn as much as she could about them. Not only that but then she got to listen to them tell her fun stories about her baby brother. Apparently he worked rather closely with Cass’s younger brother, Tim and the two caused more chaos than Danny had ever let her know about.

It was fun, getting to know all of the secrets behind her girlfriend, to learn every facet of who she was and how she came to be. How there were days when words were just too much for the shorter women, when days were so hard and difficult that she couldn’t seem to get out of bed. Then there were the days when her laugh filled their apartment along with the pitter patter of her feet as she danced along the kitchen to music only she could hear.

And Jazz found herself able to talk to someone who understood what it was like to grow up with just plain insanity. She felt more comfortable telling Cass about her childhood, opening up about the fact that the reason she was interested in justice reform was because her own parents had been thrown in prison when she had been just twenty years old after what they had done to Danny. Not to mention the years of neglect that they had endured under her parents' care.

Cass never looked at her like she was insane when she mentioned times where she had to beat down turkeys with a baseball bat. They found solace in one another, a comfort that Jazz had never felt before in her life. She found acceptance in Cassandra Wayne and she was addicted to it. In love with the feeling of being in love.

Cass treated Jazz like she was fine china, a delicate thing that needed to be treasured and loved. And Jazz made sure that Cass felt the same way, that Cass knew that she was loved and valued. That the shorted, hardened woman knew that she was more than just a weapon for other’s to use. That she could be more than just Black Bat.

That she could be whatever she wanted to be. That she was Jazz’s tiny dancer that she adored endlessly.

“Would you like to dance?” Cass asked, the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly with her smile.

“You just like showing off,” Jazz said with a roll of her eyes before taking Cass’s hand, watching the way her yellow ball gown seemed to swish around her as she led the taller woman to the dance floor.

“I like showing you off, yes,” Cass said simply before she rested her hand on Jazz’s waist, the other holding Jazz’s hand carefully. “How is it?”

“It’s fine,” Jazz said with a huff as she looked around at the other party goers. “We’re raising a lot of money already and we haven’t even gotten to the silent auction yet. I just hate having to play nice with all of these people.”

“Better than me,” Cass said simply as she allowed Jazz to twirl her around a bit. Jazz gave her a small smile and shook her head in amusement.

“You just have to smile and you have everyone here vying for your attention. You’re the favorite out of Brucie’s kids, you know,” Jazz told her with a small grin.

“Whatever. Tim’s the favorite,” Cass pointed out. Jazz just shook her head and dipped Cass down before pulling her back and giving the woman a soft kiss.

“Whatever you say,” she murmured, lips a hair’s breadth from Cass’s. “If it’s any consolation, you’re my favorite.”

Cass let out a hum, her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she relished in the attention from the red head. “Everyone is watching.”

“Let them,” Jazz said, running her nose along Cass’s jawline for a moment before they went back to spinning and swaying and sashaying through the dance floor. “Isn’t that what you always tell me? Let them watch?”

Cass hummed. “Makes you more interesting,” she murmured. “Sometimes you’re scary, dancing makes you more approachable. More open.”

Jazz scoffed. “I’m approachable.”

“Intimidating,” Cass told her, pinching her side lightly. “Powerful women scare people. You’re powerful. Scarry. Unapproachable.”

“It’s not my fault that people are cowards and are intimidated by me,” Jazz grumbled. Cass just smiled and shook her head.

“No, but dancing makes you seem more approachable. More,” Cass paused and thought for a moment. “More human,” she finally said.

“I’m human,” Jazz argued.

“No, liminal. Big difference,” she said with a laugh. “Sometimes you stand too still, your eyes glow too much. Too strong, a little too other,” she said, smiling up at Jazz.

Jazz rolled her eyes and just gave her girlfriend another kiss. “Well, I suppose we can prove to everyone that I’m a non intimidating, kind, fully human person.”

Cass let out an excited giggle and allowed Jazz to spin her across the ballroom. The attorney just grinned as they took over the dancefloor, her love for her girlfriend bloomed in her chest.

[gilly-moon]

For Vlad and Danny, or pompep if you're interested, night I ask for:

29, 92, or 97?

~harley

I am realizing I have NO confidence in writing these two together so this really felt like a practice piece?? Tried to throw in some hints of Pompep though, I hope it's any good!

-

29 : “You’ll end up dead if you keep that up and it won’t even be at my hands.”

Danny had the final boss of Doomed 2 down to a sliver of its health bar when Vlad Plasmius came skidding out of the Ghost Portal.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he groaned, yanking off his headset and mourning the hours of progress lost as ‘Game Over’ appeared in bold letters across the computer monitor.

Phasing into his ghost form, he turned with an ectoblast already gathering in his palms. Across the room, a cart of spare gadget parts had been knocked over, several glass beakers shattered across the floor beside it. Vlad was pulling himself up against the far counter of the lab, fangs bared and red eyes glowing.

“It’s three in the morning, asshole,” Danny grumbled. “Let’s make this quick.”

Danny thrust his hands out, the blast of energy narrowly missing Vlad as he lurched sideways. The movement was sluggish - a far cry from Vlad’s typical ease and grace in battle. He almost seemed tired, though the arc of energy he released with a sweep of his arm was just as intense as usual. Danny dove down to avoid it, the heat of the blast singeing a few of his hairs.

“How wonderful,” the older halfa sneered. “We actually agree on something!”

Danny phased into the floor to avoid a barrage of pink blasts. When he emerged from the wall behind Vlad, it was easier than anticipated to land a blow between his shoulderblades, knocking him forward onto his knees. Vlad cried out from the impact, clutching at his stomach.

His stomach?

“Feeling a little off your game tonight, fruit loop? Need some tums for your tummy ache?”

When Vlad didn’t respond or stand up immediately, Danny moved cautiously around him, still on guard in case this was another of Vlad’s stupid schemes to catch him by surprise. His fists dropped as soon as he saw the pink ectoplasm dripping onto the floor.

“What the hell, Vlad?”

“Shut up, Daniel,” Vlad growled, his hand still pressed over the wound on his abdomen.

It must've been deep, considering the sizeable stain on Vlad’s front and the growing pool between his knees. Their fight must’ve reopened it, or maybe Danny just hadn’t been looking close enough to notice it until now.

Studying its vibrant color, Danny realized he’d never even considered whether Plasmius could bleed. He’d never landed a blow on the halfa that would cause anything more serious than some scratches and bruises.

Someone must’ve been really determined to kill Vlad.

“You pissed off another ghost in the Zone, didn’t you?” Danny accused, unsure if this new development was hilarious or annoying. “Who the hell did you piss off? Was it Dora? I’ll have to thank her later.”

Vlad scoffed, eyes narrowing. “I would not be maimed by an emotionally unstable dragon.”

“But you did piss someone off. And you really thought it was the best idea to come here and pick another fight?”

Vlad didn’t reply, gritting his teeth as he slumped back against the counter. Now that Danny had a moment to really look, he could see Vlad’s outfit was covered in rips and burns, scratches torn through his cape and across his shoulder. One of his cheeks looked heavily bruised, the skin already darkening beneath his eye.

“You’ll end up dead all over again if you keep that up,” Danny said, phasing back into a human. “And it won’t even be at my hands.”

Grabbing a clean work rag from one of the cabinets beside Vlad, he knelt down and held it out, a metaphorical olive branch. Vlad eyed the cloth, but didn’t reach for it despite the ghostly plasma oozing between his fingers.

“I don’t need any lectures from a C-average teenager who failed his English midterm last week.”

“God, you’re such a creep.”

Danny sighed, scooting closer and forcibly lifting Vlad’s arm so he could press the cloth over the nasty-looking laceration - definitely made by a set of well-sharpened claws. He was met with little resistance, though it was hardly a surprise considering the tremor in Vlad’s hands and the choked-off yelp when his stomach was exposed.

Thankfully the wound was already healing, but if Vlad returned to his human form too soon they’d been in a far stickier situation. Danny tried to convince himself he was just helping so his parents and Jazz wouldn’t find out when he had to call an ambulance for the wounded billionaire in their basement, and not because he was actually worried.

What was he getting himself into?

“You attacked me,” Vlad said, his voice somewhat strained.

“What?”

Danny looked up, his hands shifting slightly where they pressed over Vlad’s stomach. The older halfa tensed, fangs bared and fingers scraping over the floor. If Danny’s eyes lingered on the muscles flexing along his neck for a moment too long, neither of them mentioned it.

“I didn’t come here for a fight.” Red eyes peeled slowly open, staring at the ceiling. “Have I ever come into your home just to fight you?”

“Does it matter?” Danny pressed his hands down a little more, definitely not just to see Vlad squirm again. “You’ve come here before just to threaten me. Close enough.”

The short breath Vlad exhaled might’ve been a laugh.

“Touché,” he conceded. “But my initial point still stands - you threw the first blow this time.”

Danny caught his lip between his teeth, retracing the last several minutes and realizing that the stupid vampire was right.

“So, what?”

“So, dear boy…” Vlad’s hand found his bicep, wrapping around it completely as the other curved over the back of his neck, keeping him in place. “I’d say that means you owe me a favor.”

“I’m already trying to save your life here,” Danny said, trying not to think about the heat spreading up his arm and across his shoulders. His gaze flicked up and got stuck on the sight of Vlad’s hooded eyes aimed at his neck.

“Your father still hides bottles of alcohol behind the kitchen cleaners upstairs, yes?”

Danny’s brow furrowed quizzically, some of the heat in his body dissipating.

“Y-yeah, but -”

“Be a dear and grab me the darkest bottle of red wine you can find, hm? To help take the edge off.”

The gloved hands release him, leaving something warm and sticky behind. Danny stood, hesitating with a barely-formed protest on his lips. He swallowed it in defeat, turning on his heel and marching up the stairs.

Only when he reached the top did he remember it was still three in the fucking morning and Vlad Plasmius was in his basement. He considered calling on Tucker, who was bound to be awake, or sneaking upstairs to wake Jazz. It only took a moment to decide against either. There was something unappealing about the idea of letting anyone else see Vlad in such a vulnerable state.

That in itself was a thought that made him pause as he squatted in front of the cabinet storing various cleaners and a few crusty pairs of rubber gloves.

Why hadn’t he finished what he started? Vlad was weak. Danny could’ve taken him down with one more blast and shoved him right back into the ghost zone. It would’ve been quicker, easier, and far more simple than whatever he was doing now.

The memory of a hand wrapped thumb-to-fingers around his bicep sent blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Shut up,” he grumbled at his own mind, snatching the first bottle of red wine he spotted.

His dad sure thought he was clever with his hiding places. Though he certainly wasn’t clever enough to notice the handful of times Danny had taken sips from any of the already open bottles. Surely he wouldn’t notice one missing thing of wine, either.

“Just get him his booze and get out,” Danny muttered to himself as he crept back down the stairs. Better to end this interaction soon, before something really weird happened.

Apparently Vlad had thought so, too.

The lab was empty when Danny emerged from the stairwell. It was only him, the faint eerie wail of the ghost portal, and a smeared pool of pink ectoplasm.

Heaving a sigh, Danny ripped the foil off the wine bottle, phasing the cork out from the neck and taking one long swig. He frowned when the rich taste and the burn of alcohol reminded him of one deeply annoying, vampiric halfa.

Slamming the bottle down on the nearest surface and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Danny glared at the ghost blood streaked across the floor.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

[ei-w]

how not to participate in sprints in the middle of the night/early dawn, because at the end, you'll end up typing down a whole short fic...

pre-Kindred Spirit setting; words: <1k; tw: gun

-- -- --

"Are you aware that there is a teen roaming around in your mansion?" Skulker asked.

Naturally he didn't bother to take unnecessary questions, especially regarding any (for him at least) inexplicable and strange human habits and behaviours he couldn't get about the man or about the daily activities, but it buzzed him annoyingly in the past minutes. He couldn't take it any longer without asking about it.

The older hybrid, without lifting his grey head from the adjusting on the computer and implementing the small card, answered. "Yes, I'm aware. Don't care with her."

Skulker examined him, his 'boss' and indeed it seemed like the unfamiliar kid did not deserve any further note, but he couldn't hold back the inquiry. Besides, he had never seen any human child before in the house - or any at all, or, in fact, any other beings, except when the owner of the house wished like that.

"Relative?" Skulker asked. "Your sister's?"

Vlad for a second glanced up from the doing, probably surprised that his employer was updated with the family lines.

"Cecilie's?" The hybrid asked, returning back to the analyses then while hitting eagerly the keyboard in front of him. "No. And I said not to care with her."

Skulker hummed which made Vlad slightly lift his head. But then, the comment got ignored.

After a few silent minutes, when tormentingly only the clicking was heard, Skulker had enough in the usual waiting – until he would get back the card for his suit.

"Is this normal for human children to play hide and seek with guns?" He asked, wonderingly.

The clicking stopped and finally the part-ghost completely looked at him. "What?!"

In a blink of an eye, in a literal flash, the man changed form and phrased through the walls. Skulker invisibly followed him – knowing that even though his presence was constant, the owner of the house did not like him appearing in any rooms beyond the basement.

For a second, Skulker lost sight of the older hybrid but then a chiding hit his metallic ears.

"Cheese logs, child! Where did you get that?"

The young kid stopped running in the middle of the hallway and whirled around just to meet with a just transformed back man with crossed arms.

"Hm?" Vlad glared at the weapon in the small pale hand. "Danielle, that's not a toy."

Skulker made a mental note over the familiar surname. Danielle? The girl was seriously called Danielle? Like… like as Plasmius kept referring to the Ghost Boy? It didn't feel like a coincidence… And maybe it wasn't.

"Well?" Vlad his head to the side seriously,  scowling, expecting an acceptable reason for the misbehaving.

The girl dropped her arm to her side, hiding the gun behind her back but then snapped with her tongue, waving enthusiastically.

"I was only checking around to find some dangerous bad guys! That's the mission of the spies and Maddie – I mean, M – told me to make sure our home is safe and–"

Vlad's palm harshly hit his face and soon he pinched his nose, massaging the bridge of it. Of course, she had to cause trouble with the pet again. Not that he wouldn't have been troubled enough earlier with the scratches on furniture! Now, the problems multiplied with the two of them 'playing around'…

"I see. I shouldn't have let you watch those old DVDs. I should have known your brain is undeveloped yet capable of differing reality from fantasy. But what did I expect? You are a toddler, after all," Vlad sighed and reached ahead his hand. "Give me that gun, Danielle. You can't run around with that, you'll hurt someone. And the least I want is to shoot me in your carelessness."

The girl pouted, moving as it was told but then paused. Her forehead furrowed in confusion. "But… but we are ghosts. We can't get hurt."

"Maybe you can't. But, if you don't mind, dear, I don't wish to learn the difference within our biology by a shot hole in my body, thank you very much. Now, the gun, Danielle," Vlad said, voice stern.

The kid's lips shaped into a thin line when she handed the weapon. Then, as if disappointed in the child, Vlad shook his head.

Apologetically, while staring at her feet, down, Danielle mumbled ahead. "Sorry, Daddy."

Skulker could not hear or follow the rest of the conversation within the two figures, his mind suddenly filled with the dropped label: 'Daddy'. Plasmius had– had a daughter?!

His visits (and claimings for the most recent updates on his metal suit) were frequent, but Skulker was sure the older ghost hybrid had no child a week ago. (Vlad, surely, would have mentioned that.) But beyond doubt, there was one now. A ten, maybe twelve year old human – no, not human. She said 'ghosts', she had to be a similar hybrid then, like Plasmius was, but… How?! From… where?

The girl vibed an odd, near-to uncomfortable aura, in something not natural and he had to know why.

But as the man's words slipped into Skulker's mind – Vlad telling the kid he had business issues to arrange and until then she had to promise to behave – he had to come to see to save this mystery to unfold for a later time.

Skulker knew he couldn't ask Plasmius about this – not yet, at least. But soon, he would get to know everything about this Danielle and the reason why the teen had an eerie similarity in her features to one certain Ghost Boy…

[twinklelilstarkey]

omg I need a part 2 of secret!! it as so good

A/N: Thank you baby! I’m so glad you guys liked it!

Secret - Rafe Cameron [Part 2]

Words: 2.5k+

Type: Angst

Warning: Underage Drinking. Swearing. A whole lot of lying. Top is a bitch when drunk. Ending of a friendship.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Part 1

“If you’ll excuse me, now, Topper. I need to go use the bathroom” Sarah tells Topper and his eyes widen.

“There’s a bathroom up here?” He asks, cringing at his own words.

Sarah turns to look at the blonde boy again and stares at him confused.

“Yeah, at least 3″ She replies, “Now, bye”

You and Rafe stand in the middle of the room, with clothes on, this time. You have already picked up everything from the floor in the space of a few seconds. And now you’re left with listening to Sarah and Top’s conversation as your heart almost jumps out of your chest.

“What’s the probability of her coming in here?” Rafe whispers to you without taking his eyes off the door.

“High” You answer and he looks down at you.

You don’t say anything else, you just point at the door at the other side of the room. A bathroom.

“Shit” He whispers.

You couldn’t feel more helpless. There’s absolutely nowhere you can hide. The desk is too small to fit the both of you under it, and doesn’t have anything covering the back. There’s no corner of the room that isn’t completely exposed in whatever angle. No chair or any piece of furniture that covers you both from the door and the bathroom.

Except.

“Behind the door” You whisper at Rafe.

“What?” He asks confused.

“We can hide behind the door when she opens it” You say and he shakes his head.

“And what if she closes it when she comes in?”

“Well, it’s better than to fucking stand here and wait until she comes in, no?”

As Rafe is about to answer, you two hear footsteps right outside of the door. 

In a space of 3 seconds, Rafe snatches you by your arm and takes you with him behind the door.

The door opens as you two lean back onto the wall, and you start, right away, thanking mentally whoever made a door so awfully wide.

The yellow light from the hallway rushes through the dark room and you hold your breath as you hear someone walk in.

“Sarah!” Topper says loudly, sounding as if scared.

“What?” She asks and both you and Rafe tense p with how close she is to the door.

“I- Uhm...” He says, also now standing at the doorway, “I need to talk to you about something. It’s urgent” He says.

“Well. Can it be after I pee, please?”

Topper stands silent while peeking inside the room and you frown at his silence, having no idea what he’s doing.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead” He says with a sigh.

Sarah looks at him as if he’s crazy and turns back around, making her way towards the bathroom. You and Rafe continue to stand in silence, staring at the door in hopes that she’s quick with her way there.

The door of the bathroom closes and you finally breathe out the air you’ve been holding this whole time. 

You push the door away from you and walk around it.

“Jesus fucking Christ” Topper whispers at you two, “Couldn’t you two choose a room further than this?”

You don’t answer him as you make your way out of the room and Rafe follows you out. 

“How did you even know that we were in there?” Rafe asks and you turn to see what Topper has to say.

“I didn’t, I was going to do this whole conversation in whatever room she wanted to go in” 

You chuckle at his words and shake your head in disbelief. 

“Now, go! I actually do need to talk to Sarah”

You and Rafe don’t question him and walk away from that cursed room. 

Nobody is making you walk back in one of these rooms ever again. That’s for sure.

As you two get to the stairs, Rafe walks in front of you and you follow him in silence, looking down at your shoes.

“For fuck’s sake” Rafe says under his breath and you look up at him.

Rose is standing right at the end of stairs looking at the two of you with a frown.

“Can one of you two explain to me why I’ve been told by more than 5 workers that a bunch of teenagers are going upstairs? Exactly where no one can go!” She asks you two.

You stay silent as she stares at Rafe, who doesn’t even move a muscle.

“Y/N?” She asks, when noticing that Rafe is giving her the silent treatment. “What were you two doing?”

You open your mouth to answer but Rafe beats you to it.

“I didn’t know where the bathroom was”

“There’s bathrooms down here” Rose answers, her tone still rigid and arrogant.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to share a toilet with people I don’t know” Rafe answers with a fake disgusted tone.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“She was-”

“I think she can speak for herself” Rose interrupts.

“I was- Uhm...” You start, looking up at Rafe for a second, “I was showing Rafe where the bathroom was”

The woman stares at you with a annoyed look in her face and you almost flinch at it. 

She’s your mom’s boss, it’s quite obvious that the weight on your shoulders is intensifying as she looks at you more intensely.

You three stand there in silence for at least a minute, until she lifts her eyes from you to someone up the stairs, disbelief fills her features.

“You have to be kidding me” 

You and Rafe look over your shoulders to find Sarah and a very pissed off Topper, making their way down the stairs.

“And what were you two doing?” She asks and you look at Rafe in a panic.

“Bathroom?” Sarah asks with a frown making Rose scoff, “Why do you look so mad?”

“Because every teenager I’ve seen come down as been in a bathroom” She answers.

“Kie and JJ?” Sarah asks confused, taking step by step down slowly.

“Kiara has been up there too?” Rose asks loudly, getting some people’s attention. Sarah nods, “And who in the hell is JJ?”

Sarah stands beside you and Rafe, and shrugs.

“I saw them come down when I was going up” Sarah explains.

Rose brings her hand to her forehead and massages her temples while whispering something under her breath. 

“What were all of you really doing up there?” She asks, trying to contain her rage.

“All of you?” Sarah asks, “Y/N was up there too?”

You tense up as Rose glares at Sarah.

“Not the time for your acting moment, Sarah. What. Were. You. All. Doing. Up. There?”

“Pee-Ing.” Sarah answers, “I don’t know about him,” She points at Rafe, “but I went up there to pee and check on my makeup. Nothing else”

Rose continues to glare at her step-daughter for a few seconds until deciding to look at Rafe.

“And you?”

“I already told you, I went to the bathroom” Rafe answer, annoyed, “Now, can I please go?”

Rafe takes Rose’s silence as an answer and walks away, not looking back at you.

“I need to go help my mom” You try to say as Rose snaps her head to look at you.

“Oh, I’m sure you have” She says sarcastically with a pissed off tone.

You hold your breath at her tone and walk down the rest of the stairs, leaving Sarah to deal with her. 

Did you and Rafe actually not get caught? 

How?

Sarah looks at you conflicted but doesn’t follow you out, she decides to go talk to ‘Vlad’ instead. Topper follows her down the stairs, yet doesn’t even bother to see where she’s going. 

She just broke up with him, anyways.

You walk out to the back of the house and look through all the kooks and workers to try and find your mom.

“So, everything went great” Topper says as he stands beside you.

“I know, thank you for helping us” You tell him and he gives you a grin, “What’s wrong?”

“Sarah. But I don’t want to talk about it” 

You nod and look at the crowd once again.

“Well, if you ever need me,” You start while staring at your mom, “You know where to find me”

“Yeah” He says with a sigh.

You give him a comforting smile before walking down the porch, elbowing yourself through the crowd to finally reach your mom, who is talking to Pope’s dad.

“Oh, hi honey” She says, as soon as her eyes land on you.

“Hi,” You say while stepping in to stand beside her.

“Where were you?” She asks.

Oh, boy.

(...)

“Oh, it went amazing, thank you so much” Rose says as she wraps her arms around your mom.

You stand slightly away from them as they talk and as Rose does her usual thankful ‘speech’ before giving the envelope with the, rather large, tip.

Some people have left already, but the one’s that are still here are either the older men or the drunk teenagers. Oh, and of course the whole Cameron family.

You lean on the wall with your shoulder and wait for your mom to finish talking.

Rafe stands beside his sisters, hands on the pockets of his light blue pants, trying to act normal and not draw any attention to himself. He wasn’t quite sober himself, and he doesn’t want anyone to notice.

He brings his head up as Rose finally says her last goodbyes to your mom. He watches as the two women hug again as you silently stand there.

His gaze seems to get stuck as your mom’s eyes move to you and you give her a smile. 

As he forces himself to look away, Wheezie frowns. What just happened?

Sarah types into her phone while holding an annoyed scowl and rolls her eyes at the sight of a drunk version of Topper making his way inside the house. Or should she say, stumbling.

You and your mom grab the last two empty boxes and walk out to your car, ready to leave. Rose motions her family to do the same, and everyone excitingly starts to move towards the front door.

You laugh with something your mom says and walk around the car to get the boxes in the trunk. Your mom jumps into the driving seat and closes the door.

The Cameron family walks past you, and some of them give you a small smile and saying a quick ‘have a nice night’ or ‘see you tomorrow’. That last one coming from Sarah, of course.

Rafe walks behind his family staring at his shoes and as he stands beside you, you feel him poke your side playfully. 

“Sir, get your dirty hands off me” You whisper playfully at him, making him chuckle.

“Dirty hands?” He asks with a fake offended tone, making your smile widen.

You close the trunk, making your mom be unable to hear anything happening outside and Rafe steps away from you, winking quickly before continuing to follow his family to the car.

As you were about to open the door of the car so you could get in, someone stops you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Topper screams from the front door of the house.

You look over your shoulder and so do the Cameron’s, who didn’t expect someone to still be this loud this late at night.

“Hey” You say with a confused tone, “Are you okay? Do you need a ride home or something?”

“Oh me? No” He says, making Rafe frown at how drunk his best friend is, “I was thinking, you kno-” He hiccups.

“Topper, can we talk tomorrow? It’s late and you’re really drunk. Why don’t you get in the car?” You insist.

“No!” He says loudly before smiling at his own thoughts, “I was thinking, how lucky you and Rafe actually are”

Your body freezes at his words.

“Topper, bro, you’re way too drunk” Rafe says, while glaring at his friend.

“I’m not drunk,” He says before chuckling at himself, “I’m just tired of all of you guys’ bullshit”

“Top, just go home” Sarah says behind Rafe, ignoring what he just had said since it didn’t even make sense to her.

Ward and Rose roll their eyes and continue to make their way to the car, not wanting to wait and see whatever is going on. 

But Wheezie sure is staying.

“Shut up, Sarah” Topper says slowly, “You’re such a-... bitch! A blind one too!”

“What?”

“You really think a pogue would ever like you as a person?” Rafe looks between them confused, “You’re so blind, bro. Those people just want your money”

Sarah shakes her head in annoyance and you continue to stare at Topper, scared of anything that might leave his drunk mouth.

“And even blinder to the fact that your brother is-”

“Topper, bro” Rafe interrupts, “Why don’t I take you home?”

Rafe steps closer to Topper and the boy shakes his head.

“I don’t need help getting home, especially from any of you” He says, waving his arm around.

“Y/N, can we go home now?” Your mom asks from inside the car, oblivious to everything. but you ignore her.

“You know what, Sarah?” Topper shouts, getting your mom’s attention, “I’m just going to tell you everything. Because maybe you’ll understand how you can’t trust everyone you know”

“What are you talking abo-” Sarah tries to talk.

“Your best friend has been fucking your brother this whoooole time” He blurs out, eyes closed while letting a chuckle out of his mouth.

“What-” Sarah asks, not believing a word.

Rafe clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to not punch his best friend.

“It’s true!” Topper continues, “You’re just so fucking blind. All the times both of them disappeared during sleepovers, or in events like these. Do you not remember talking to me about this?”

“Topper” You try to intervene by stepping forward towards him.

“Y/N, just shut up” He snaps, “You and Rafe have been dating and doing whatever the fuck you want this whole time. All happy and shit. Well, guess what? I’m tired of both of your guys’ bullshit” He repeats.

Wheezie stares at all of this and forces her mouth close. This is better than any show she’s ever seen.

“Is he being serious?” Sarah asks her older brother, but before Rafe could answer, Topper continues.

“And you probably all knew that she was going to break up with me. Well, guess the fuck what? If I can’t be in a happy relationship with a Cameron, neither can you, Y/N” He says with a playful tone, chuckling at his own words.

“Topper, please shut up-” You try and say in a lower tone.

“No! Why should I?” He asks excitingly.

Sarah takes her eyes off Topper to look at her brother, who is awfully silent. Rafe glares at his friend, breathing heavily. And you. You look like you’re about to cry.

“Are you guys serious?” She asks, her voice failing her.

You look over at her and her expression breaks your heart into a million pieces. She looks like someone has just stabbed her in the back. 

And that’s exactly how she feels.

“Sarah” You try to say and she shakes her head.

“Are you serious, Y/N?” She repeats, looking straight at you.

You’re more than fucked, now.

- - - - - - - -

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS SECOND PART!!! 

I’VE BEEN STUCK ON THIS FOR SO LONG!

[lindyloosims]

“It’s natural to have doubts Lou. I still don’t believe that Vlad made the right choice in me but...well the work keeps me going and there often isn’t time to wallow in how unworthy I am to be President of the Vampire Council, and to top it all off, Caleb fucking Vatore went and got me elected Mayor of Forgotten Hollow! I feel the pressure every day!”

“Seriously?” Lou’s eyes widened, “You would never know, you’re the epitome of boss man energy!”

“Well, I don’t feel that energy! Hallie grounds me but she also makes me feel like I can change the world. If it weren’t for her I’d...well I wouldn’t be able to function!”

“You’re lucky to have her, I’m so jealous of what you have with her it...there was someone...once!” So it was going to become that kind of conversation? “You remember me talking about Celene? You met her, she found Rory...”

“Yeah, I know Celene, I’m ashamed to say I knew she was leaving but there was so much going on with you and the pack that I didn’t think it was important!”

“Yeah well, she would have left regardless! We went on a date once, the night I got bit, she warned me not to go out there...to Greg’s? But I was trying to impress her and...well it changed my life forever! I had just turned eighteen, just becoming a man, trying to prove my dad wrong...but proving him right in the end!”

“Celene got bit too that night, but she took the cure. I was dumb and full of shit, thinking I’d be okay...I should’ve listened to her on both occasions! But becoming a werewolf was the best thing that ever happened to me, I met Rory, I found a real family! Anyway, one night I got drunk at the Grimtooth Bar and Celene took me to the club house to sleep it off, one thing led to another and...well let’s just say we never really spoke again after that...she's a little older than me, and she was my first, I was probably not hers though!” Lou chuckled sadly.

“When I met Hallie, she turned my head, I knew she was Grayson’s wife...sorry...I knew she was taken, by you or by Grayson, it doesn’t matter, she was off limits! When I brought her back here four months ago, Celene came out of her house and gave me an earful, calling Hallie a little temptress...a whole pile of shit came out of her mouth. I never thought she cared, then she told me to stay away from her and enjoy my little family...she thought your baby was...well, mine!”

“Yeah, she said as much when I took her home!” I nodded, Lou had just confirmed what I suspected, Jared was his son! He didn’t know, but I didn’t feel that it was my place to tell. Hopefully Lizette would track Celene down and Lou could finally meet him, maybe make a go of it with his son’s mother.

“I dunno, I just always thought that there would be time to fix...whatever we had! I think I felt more for Celene than she felt for me to be honest, our night in the club house meant more to me than it did her. I mean I was drunk, but I was aware of what we were doing and I wanted it, she wanted it, maybe I was just another notch...I guess I’ll never know!”

“You’ll get your chance to find out, I’m sure of it! Look Lou, you’re going to make an amazing alpha! Rory was easy to work with, but because we’re friends we can make a great team! I have faith in you, Vlad does too...and so does Hallie!”

“Sh-she does?” Lou sat back in his chair and eyed me with surprise.

“Of course she does, she’s your number one fan!”

“She is?”

“Lou, she loves you! Not like she loves me, don’t get any ideas...but she does! We both consider you as our family too and we’d love for you to be Aurora’s godfather!”

“You would?” This kid really lacked confidence, did he not know what a great young man he truly was?

“We would, now, do you think we can have a group discussion with the pack, try to get them to move forward with us? I know where to find Kat and Markus, and with their help we can get the justice Rory deserves!”

“We can try!” He replied with more confidence, hearing how much Hallie thought of him had done the trick, I hoped he knew that he could do this, that he had support from everyone who cared about him. We needed to stay focused, and I had to tell his pack that I could track down Rory’s killers, news that would hopefully go down well with most, if not all of them!

<Previous_Next>

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

A centuries-long feud between two of the world's most mysterious and otherwordly species is put to a halt by a sudden crisis. Danny Phantom, unofficial protector of Amity Park and indisputable King of the Ghost Zone, seeing no other choice, must make a risky decision for the sake of his people and loved ones.

But can a ghost truly trust a witch given their people's history? Or will he fall under the spell of the hypnotising Queen of the Witches of Amity Park?

READ ON AO3

Word Count: 5725

CHAPTER 1 -- Desperate Measures

Neon green.

Neon green eyes. 

The same sight that has accompanied him ever since that fateful day when he was fourteen and he entered his parents’ portal to the Ghost Zone.

The very first time he looked himself in the mirror after the accident he was greeted by those very same eerily green eyes, coupled with no little amount of panic and anxiety. And how could he not be frightened at the sight? Not only his eyes had changed colour, he himself had drastically transformed, too. 

What once was a cascade of black hair falling down his face had become an avalanche of white strands. The black and white jumpsuit he’d worn as he entered the portal was still black and white, but the colour scheme was reversed. Surprisingly, instead of looking even paler than usual, his complexion gained a healthy tanーas soon as he learned what he had turned into, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the ridiculous notion of a dead guy having more flesh-coloured skin after dying. He couldn’t even recognise his own voice! And it wasn’t the typical “my voice sounds different now that I hear it recorded” type of different. No. There was a certain...echo to it. 

Just what had he turned into?

As that first excruciating month after the accident would prove, he’d become a half-ghost, half-human hybrid.

He, Danny Fenton, was a halfa, as the locals liked to call him. 

And by ‘locals’ he didn’t mean the people living in his hometown, Amity Park. He meant the ghosts living in the Ghost Zone. The parallel dimension to Earth that his parents had dedicated years to find, hence the creation of the Ghost Portal that led to the start of his rare condition. 

And no, he couldn’t say ‘unique’ because there was another halfa that had been around for twenty years prior to his own accident. But he wasn’t going to go in detail about that; thinking about the fruitloop always put him in a bad mood. And he already had enough on his plate as it was. 

To say his first year as a halfa was difficult would be an understatement, maybe as much of an understatement as it would be to call the sinking of the Titanic a midnight swim. 

His first year with ghost powers had been brutal. There was just too much to take into account when living a double life. And if having a secret of such magnitude could take its toll on an adult, then that was nothing compared to what it could do to the already delicate psyche of a teenager. Wait, psyche? He wondered to himself, Where did that come from? Maybe Tucker is right and I need to meet some new people… Psychological talks are always a tell-tale sign that I’ve been spending too much time with Jazz.

But it was true, wasn’t it? 

While his classmates at Casper High worried about pimples, or getting their first girlfriends or boyfriends, or fitting in with the A-listers, thoughts of his secret being discovered plagued his mind 24/7. It was a miracle he hadn’t outed himself the moment he got his powers, given how little control he used to have over them. 

And it wasn’t like he could just train his powers and figure out what to do from there in peace. Oh, no. That would’ve made things easy for him and, as he would come to learn over the years, the universe just loved making things unnecessarily difficult for him. He was the cosmos’ favourite chew toy. 

No, of course not. He had to learn to use his powers while countless mischievous ghosts set out to complete whatever crazy agenda they had or to pummel him to the ground materialised in Amity Park for the first time in...let’s see...ever?

He also met the fruitloop which, of course, always brought lots of pleasant memories of an obsessive psycho attacking him, mocking him, drooling and pointlessly flirting with his mum, trying to kill his dad, only to then do a complete 180 and try to convince him to abandon his ‘idiot father’ and join him as his own son… No, no! Not going there! He really couldn’t afford losing his temper at the moment. 

His only saving grace those first few months had been his best friend, Tucker Foley and, some time later, his older sister Jazz. 

Tucker was the first to know about his secret because he was there the day of the accident. Though not a fan of the paranormal, Tucker was really into technology; always had been. Unfortunately, that earned him the nickname of ‘Techno Geek’ back in their high school days. But it was precisely that interest in the crazy inventions his parents often came up with that had led them to checking out the, then busted, Ghost Portal. And it had been his friend’s conviction that the two of them could surely make it work that had led to his molecules getting rearranged. 

Jazz was a completely different case. 

Growing up with ghost-hunting parents, meaning they focused their inventions on the paranormal side of life (and that included ectoplasm-filled dinners), Jazz had taken it upon herself to be the ‘responsible, trustworthy, and caring’ (her words, not his) older sister. Since they were little, his sister wholeheartedly believed it was up to her to make sure her brother was safe and got the attention he needed, seeing as their parents could be scatterbrained, at best. 

It goes without saying that such a mindset, though appreciated as they grew up, turned her into a meddlesome know-it-all in the eyes of any younger sibling. But if the aforementioned younger sibling happened to have developed ghost powers just as he hit puberty...well, that made her a nightmare. 

The first few months Danny tried keeping his sister at arm’s length, much to her chagrin. But she eventually learned his secret anyway and kept it away from their parents, something her little brother could never thank her enough for. 

How did she learn his secret? According to her, she found out during Danny’s first encounter with the misery-inducing ghost known as Penelope Spectra. But she didn’t reveal that she knew until a certain turn of events.

Said turn of events?

In his shortsighted search for power, the fruitloop had freed Pariah Dark, the dreaded Ghost King, from his eternal slumber and imprisonment. And not only did he free an ancient, power hungry spectre, he also stole the Ring of Wrath, the powerful item Dark needed to gain infinite power alongside the Crown of Fire already in his possession, and took it with him to Amity Park, endangering everyone in the process. 

Pariah’s plans to conquer the Ghost Zone anew, only this time he coveted Earth as well, had led to many events in a surprisingly short amount of time. But the most surprising of them all was his ascension to the throne of the Ghost Zone. 

After an agonising battle where he risked his very life from merely trying to go toe to toe with the tyrannical spirit, his quick decision-making made a difference that day. Stealing the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire from Pariah Dark in an attempt to keep such raw power away from his person, Danny finally succeeded and imprisoned him once and for all inside the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. 

That day, he saved both his world and the Ghost Zone. 

That day he became Danny Phantom; Amity Park’s greatest hero.

...until he, and everyone who had previously been celebrating him, found out that a link between him and the ring and crown had been formed after he defeated Pariah Dark, which made him the new ruler of the Ghost Zone. 

All at the tender age of fourteen.

At first, he tried bargaining with the Observants and Clockwork, ghosts who would act as his rule’s Council from them onwards; he tried convincing them of how unfitting he was to rule an entire dimension. And to this day, he still maintained that belief. Back then he was fourteen, he couldn’t even drive, let alone rule over an entire race he barely knew the basics of! Many of the Ghost Zone’s inhabitants were his enemies, on top of that. Just because they’d agreed to fighting by his side during Dark’s return didn't mean they would suddenly be okay with him being the boss of them! What’s more, many of them would surely challenge him for the throne; his rule would be forever accompanied by war and anarchy! And most importantly, he was half-human. How could someone like him, who had an entire life outside the Ghost Zone, ever be fit to be its king?

But the Observants and Clockwork would have none of it. 

The Ghost of Time took advantage of his “I know everything that could and will happen” powers to toy with his weakness: protecting his home and loved ones. Clockwork simply pointed out that, as the new Ghost King, he could actually keep a closer eye on his subjects than he did in the Human World, and use his position to protect Amity Park from ghosts by merely implementing some laws. Not to mention, that due to the sheer power he would possess, most of his adversaries would have to be complete morons to even entertain the thought of challenging him, meaning the amount of ghost attacks his hometown endured would decrease drastically just with him as their ruler. And, of course, there was the issue with Vlad… As Clockwork would helpfully remind him, if he didn’t accept his position as new king of the ghosts, then Plasmius was sure to take advantage of it to claim the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire for himself. 

And a world ruled by Vlad Plasmius promised to be a thousand times worse than anything Pariah Dark could submit his subjects to. 

All of it, every single point in his favour, Clockwork said completely offhandedly. As if he were talking about his plans for the weekend instead of slowly but surely bending Danny’s decision to what he and the Observants believed was the best outcome. Every word was uttered as if he didn’t know the, then, ghost boy would do anything to prevent such a terrible future from happening. 

As if the choice was truly his to make. 

And that led him to where he was now, seven years since he accepted his newfound role. 

In some ways, he remained the same. 

His hair was still the same snow white mess falling down his face. His green eyes were still vibrant and alert, if perhaps filled with a maturity and sense of responsibility that weren’t always there. His skin was still the same tanned complexion he wished he could get after sunbathing, rather than the nasty burns he would easily get. And most importantly, he was still doing his best, dedicating every single minute of his life, to doing the right thing, to protecting the innocent, and to trying to balance his responsibilities as Danny Phantom, the Ghost King and unofficial protector of Amity Park, and Danny Fenton, an university student trying to get his degree in Astrophysics while keeping his parents and acquaintances in the dark when it came to his secret. 

He still loved space and, albeit harder to achieve, he still dreamed of eventually becoming an astronaut. His sharp wit and tongue had only been honed with the passage of time; his ability to outsmart and to get his opponents to lower their guards enough to defeat them had saved his butt countless times over the years. Deep down, he was still the same Danny. The kind, compassionate, and caring boy who wanted to ensure everyone was safe. Sometimes at the price of his own mental health. 

But for every single thing that had remained unchanged, many more evolved alongside the boy.

For starters, he no longer was a boy, but a man. At twenty-one, there was no trace of the baby fat that once adorned Danny’s face, having been replaced by a sharp jawline and sculpted muscles caused by several years of physical exertion. His once scrawny figure was now replaced by broad shoulders, defined pectorals and abs, and bulging biceps. With his jumpsuit accentuating every single sinew of his body. 

The jumpsuit itself had undergone minor yet noticeable changes. The white collar covering his neck  and collarbone had gradually extended until it reached his shoulders. His biceps were now adorned by two white bracelets each, and his white gloves included several bottoms which activated the different mechanisms he had scavenged from his parents’ trash and had Tucker include in his suit over the years. Just like he traded his old belt for a far more refined utility belt, which also held several surprises. And yet, the biggest change was the logo on his chest. Or rather, the fact that he now sported a logo at all. It was a rather simple, yet witty, design. A white ghost shaped to include both his alterego’s initials; ‘DP’. 

It was rather ingenious. 

He couldn’t claim the credit for himself, though. He hadn’t created the logo. It was the strangest experience and still, one of the most touching.

One day he was flying over Amity Park, patrolling to make sure everything was as it should, when, thanks to his enhanced senses, something caught his eye. Sitting on a bench in the park was a girl but, for once, he didn’t pay attention to her appearance. He couldn’t, for he was too entranced with what she was doodling on her notebook. Doodles. That was all there was to it, really, but amongst black cats, roses, and the occasional “spooky ghost”, her design for his logo stood out. 

He asked Tucker to add it to the latest update of his suit as soon as he went back home. 

That very same logo adorning his chest was also engraved on the verdigris medallions keeping his black and white cape on his shoulders. That cape, alongside the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Wrath, were his designated attire as the Ghost King. Jazz figured he could alter his appearance a little depending on the role he played at the moment in order to avoid making the citizens of Amity Park jittery. “We want them to accept you as their protector, Danny,” she once said, “the less you remind them that you’re the current king of the Ghost Zone, the better.”

That was him. The self-appointed protector of Amity Park, and the leader of the Ghost Zone, and his highest priority would always be to ensure everyone’s safety. 

Which was why he was about to do what he was going to do. 

“Great One,” Frostbite, the honorable, trustworthy leader of the Far Frozen, called out to him, “are you certain there is no other way?”

His King appraised him with a resigned look. Frostbite and his people were some of the first ghosts to accept and respect him, immediately declaring themselves at his service after he defeated Pariah Dark. His imposing appearance, that of a hairy snow monster with sharp teeth and claws and an almost unmatched proficiency in the art of cryokinesis, hid his noble, gentle, and wise interior. The leader of the Far Frozen was an ally, a mentor, a friend...But, unless he came up with an alternative of his own, he couldn’t be of much help at the moment. Sighing, Danny shook his head. 

“There probably is, Frostbite. But we’ve already lost enough time. If we don’t act soon, who knows what could happen.”

“I would.” A disembodied voice announced from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. If he were still fourteen, that trick would’ve made Danny jump a few feet high. But that was no longer the case, and he knew the owner of the voice all too well. “High chance, it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Have you come here to offer an alternative, Clockwork?” Danny crossed his arms. A part of him knew it was futile to expect a straight answer from the Ghost of Time, his lips were sealed when it came to revealing the future. But, somehow, he still hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to, as of date, his most reckless decision. 

In a way, the ghost’s appearance seemed fitting. With his fluctuating age and his cloaked self, carrying a staff around, he resembled the Grim Reaper himself. Depending on his answer, he could either save or doom him. 

“I’m afraid not, boy. And even if I did, I most likely wouldn’t be allowed to tell you.” Clockwork shrugged, but the smile on his face somehow made the halfa suspect he didn’t lament anything. 

 Gesturing with a hand at the child-like ghost, Danny turned to address Frostbite. “There you have it. This seems to be our only hope.”

“But, sire,” Frostbite started, worry apparent on his canine features, “surely you are aware of the risks we will be taking ifー”

“I know,” his King interrupted him with a raised hand, “you don’t have to remind me. I was hoping things wouldn’t come to this but we can’t afford to lose any more time. You said it yourself, Frostbite. Aside from a very few ghosts like Wulf, who doesn’t even fully understand the workings behind his power, they are the only ones who know how the Ghost Zone’s portals work. If we want to put an end to our current problem, we have got to ask them for help.”

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Frostbite sighed, “I know, Great One. But I cannot help but fear they will either refuse to aid us in our time of need, or agree to it only to eventually betray us.” A low growl erupted from his throat. “These are extremely treacherous and unpredictable beings, my King.”

“I’m well aware of the risk, Frostbite.” The halfa reassured his friend, putting a hand on his furry shoulder. “But think about it this way: if they refuse, we can start looking for alternatives and avoid any unnecessary trouble from them; and if they accept with any sort of hidden motive, all we have to do is keep our guards up.” 

Now presenting himself as an old man, Clockwork nodded at Danny’s words, “It’s truly all we can do.”

Seeing as there truly was nothing else they could do, the leader of the Far Frozen could only pray his King’s noble, yet dangerous, decision wouldn’t become their downfall. Sighing, he finally nodded, silently expressing he and his people’s loyalty to their king, no matter what path he chose. 

The halfa smiled at his friend’s understanding nature, but it was short lived. Squaring his shoulders, he motioned to his companions to follow him. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

The three ghosts made their way around the corridors of the king’s lair inside the Ghost Zone. The hallways and rooms were empty, for once, since the ruler had previously given orders to stay away from his lair that day. It was a day for deliberating his next move, the last thing he needed was to be distracted by his subjects. 

He was doing this for them, after all. 

Opening the gates, they stepped out into the island, where a green-skinned, ghostly postman was waiting for them. The irony was not lost on Danny: the same ghost Vlad had used to trick his mother and him all those years ago would now be essential for his plan. 

With Frostbite and Clockwork flanking him, the young king approached the spectre, a serious look on his face. Extending out his gloved hand, he handed him an envelope. “You know what to do with this.” He stated firmly. 

Bowing his head as a sign of respect and understanding, the postman took the envelope from his hand, flying away to the nearest portal. 

All that was left to do was wait. 

....................

Purple. 

Purple eyes. 

Once again, she was greeted by the very eyes that marked her fate. Just by having violet eyes, her fate was sealed and outlined for her the day she was born. For twenty-one years she had been greeted by the same sight: striking violet eyes, glossy raven hair framing her face, and fair skin that contrasted greatly with the rest of her features. And even to this day a part of her was still surprised that it was all happening to her. 

When she was a little girl, her mother and grandma would often warn her of the future that lay ahead of her, a future she wasn’t even sure she wanted. Whenever her mother spoke of what was expected of her, it all sounded far too difficult for her little mind to understand. And worst of all, far too boring. 

Why would she want to host parties and ceremonies? She was too young to even know what they were like! Whenever her mother started talking about the parties she would attend, a bubble of excitement grew inside of her. She was going to go to the grown-up parties instead of staying at home! She was going to have fun and do whatever it was the older girls did there!

...only for her mother to burst her little bubble, as always. 

The moment she felt the slightest excitement about the things her mother told her about, the woman would then go into a hundred details that sounded anything but fun. 

No, she wouldn’t be having fun at the parties, but tending to her guests. No, she couldn’t dress however she liked once she was older, there were expectations set on her. No, she couldn’t turn anyone she disliked into a frog; of course not!

And her younger self always found herself wondering: what’s the point in being a witch if you couldn’t do anything with your magic?

Thankfully, when her mother became too much to bear, her grandma was always near. Growing up, Grandma Ida had been her role model. She was fun and understanding when her mother was strict and unyielding. She was wise and the ideal mentor when Pamela acted hysterical or unreasonable. But above all else, her Grandma understood her when she was an outcast in her own society. 

Being an outcast among witches, how cruel could destiny be?

When she was a little girl she didn’t understand she was an outcast so much as she knew something was wrong with the other girls from her clan. They were never mean to her, per se, but they also never wanted to play with her. 

Not like she was ever allowed to play much, anyway. 

She spent most of her time awake listening to her mother’s lectures, or trying to pay attention during her governesses’ lessons, or, and this was her favourite part of the day, watching her Grandma in action. 

As she grew up, she started connecting the dots, understanding the reasons behind her sheltered and lonely upbringing. 

The other girls would never say a mean thing about her, nor would they get too close to her, because she was off-limits. If they ever disrespected her, their families might find themselves in a tight situation and fall from grace. But if they ever included her in their activities, making her feel like one of them, then she could be distracted and get sidetracked from her studies and her true purpose. 

Such was the life of the future Queen of the Witches. 

Growing up, she often tried to rebel against the role imposed on her since birth. A role she was forced to play ever since she opened her eyes for the first time and that forsaken violet colour appeared from behind her eyelids. 

Although a witch didn’t exactly become the queen of her people due to their genes. That is to say, the position wasn’t inherited; it depended on the most important asset a sorceress could ever possess. 

Her affinity to magic. 

Whoever had the strongest, and hence was the most powerful spellcaster among them, was destined to be her clan’s leader. But that didn’t necessarily mean anyone could be queen either. 

That popular belief among pop culture that spread the idea that anyone could do magic if sufficiently trained was absolutely ridiculous. You were either born with the ability to do magic, or you weren’t. Period. 

Another popular misinformation humans seemed to be suckers for was the idea that magic came from ancient artefacts or spellcasting. In reality, magic came from within every witch; from their anima. Their own essence. In truth, magic was the ability to channel their essence and project it into the physical realm with the added help of their knowledge of the secrets of life. 

Because when it came to magic, there was nothing more powerful than knowing the secrets of the universe. If you knew the secret to something, you knew how to master that something. 

Based on those principles, witches chose their queen according to the strength of her anima, and although the throne wasn’t supposed to be passed down from mother to daughter, it was worth mentioning that they did have a Royal family of some sort:

The Mansons. 

The family she, Samantha “Sam” Manson, belonged to. 

And what was it that turned the Mansons into the closest thing her people had to a Royal family? Their violet eyes. 

Their eyes were a tell-tale sign of a superior kind of anima. Just like their irises, it would manifest itself into purple energy; the only kind of energy that could survive dark magic without being corrupted. Sam’s own energy manifested itself in the form of a sparkly, purple mist, confirming her potential as her clan’s greatest spellcaster. 

Sam spent the first years of her life cursing her luck. She didn’t want to be queen! She wanted to have friends, to play, to see the world from beyond the clan’s manor’s windows...She...she wanted...she wanted to live. 

For years she hated her amethyst gaze, a cruel reminder of a fate that had already been outlined for her the moment she was born and from which she could not escape. But then, her Grandma Ida, the Witch Queen before her, died when she was fourteen, and Sam learned to value her unique eye colour. 

It was the only thing she had to remember her grandmother by, after all. 

Since Ida never had a daughter, but a son who would eventually marry Pamela, a lesser witch, the clan had seemingly fallen into anarchy. Several witches tried battling each other for control, while the members of the Council deliberated in search for a better solution than mindless duels that could massacrate the coven’s numbers. 

And it was during that time that Sam finally embraced what for years had been her greatest curse. 

Taking a stand, she casted a paralysing spell in the manor’s Grand Hall, forcing everyone present to stay put and listen to her. With that simple move, she achieved two things. Firstly, she got her people’s undivided attention, and secondly, she reminded them just who possessed the strongest anima. 

Although Sam would never admit it, having so many unwavering gazes looking down on her disturbed her a little, but she forced herself to go on with her plan before she lost her nerve. Using that newfound courage, she reminded everyone that, not only was she Ida’s only granddaughter, but she also had violet eyes and, as they’d just witnessed, the anima to match. She brought up the countless hours she’d spent studying to become their coven’s next queen, and she fought tooth and nail until they recognised her as the heiress to the throne. 

When the Head of the Council had reminded her of her age, still being too young to rule, Sam made a deal with them. The Council would act as her regents until her 18th birthday, when she became of age and would ascend to the throne as her Grandma, who was considered one of the best queens they’d ever had, would have wanted. In exchange, the girl promised she would dedicate those years to study and train to become the leader her people deserved. 

After much deliberation, the Council accepted her offer. 

Just as Sam kept her part of the deal. 

The four years she dedicated to her duties as future queen shaped Sam’s view on her lifelong duty. She always wanted to change the world for the better, now she had the means to do so. As Queen of the Witches of Amity Park, she would focus her efforts on diplomacy between the rest of the covens spread throughout the globe and hers. She would personally deal with any trespasser or crook who dared threaten her witches’ safety. She would focus her energy on rebuilding the link with nature her people used to profit from. 

But above all else, now that they were wandering freely around Amity Park, her coven’s home, she would protect her people from those traitors. 

No witch would suffer because of them ever again.

That was three years ago. Now at twenty-one, Sam was proud to call herself the Witch Queen, a duty and a privilege she was honoured to shoulder. 

Lost in thought, she gently stroked DeMilo’s head. The venus fly trap had been her familiar since her Rite of Passage back from her 14th birthday; it was the last ceremony Grandma Ida was able to attend. Unfortunately, the memory of her rite was tainted by a rather...unpleasant event, making it almost impossible to reminisce without the feeling of nausea creeping up on her. 

After their Rite of Passage, witches got their familiars, signalling they were finally full-fledged members of their birthclan. But while most young sorceresses got cats, or ravens, or any other animal ーsome animals being more stereotypically “witchy” than othersー, Sam got DeMilo. As unusual as getting a plant as her familiar was, it didn’t matter. The girl’s natural affinity to nature made it incredibly easier to harvest the herbs and plants they needed for their spells. 

And DeMilo was ten times more interesting than any house cat, anyways. And a hundred times more hygienic than a drooling dog. 

“You’ve been staring at the mirror for almost an hour now.” A heavily accented voice broke her out from her stupor. “And then they say I’m vain.”

Turning around, the queen found her lady-in-waiting, Paulina Sanchez, leaning against the door of her quarters, her arms crossed. At her feet lay several toiletries and different kinds of make-up. 

Avoiding her gaze, flustered, Sam apologised, “I...I’m sorry. I was waiting for you to come back with what you needed and I guess I got lost in thought.”

“No kidding,” Paulina snickered as she made her way to her Queen’s side. With a wave of her hand, she beckoned the items currently resting on the floor to float towards her, a soft pink glow enveloping them. “Is there, like, anything on your mind? Anything we should worry about? Because, last time I checked, everything was going smoothly for us. Except for that one nutcase still trying to hunt us, but nobody is taking her seriously anyway.” She shrugged, not feeling concerned in the slightest. 

Sam frowned a little at her words. She knew of the so-called witchhunter, and although Paulina was right that nobody seemed to take her seriously, it wouldn’t be unwise to keep an eye on her. The last thing they needed was another massacre like the one from The Great Burning. “No, no. Nothing like that, don’t worry.” She dismissed the idea with a motion of her hand. “I was just thinking about the past, that’s all.”

Paulina replied with a noncommittal sound as she started brushing her Queen’s hair. Normally, Sam limited herself to be pampered exclusively if she had an important meeting with the Council or the other clan leaders to attend, such as Coven Night, her people’s most sacred ceremony. But there was another reason why she had called Paulina to dress her up for. 

“Is there anything going on that I should know about?” she asked her lady-in-waiting, her eyes never leaving her reflection on the mirror. 

The Latina’s gaze hardened, “Harriet is trying to get more witches on her plan to get rid of them, but, so far, everyone seems to be loyal to you and your orders.”

“As they should.”

Unbeknownst to anyone, the Queen’s two handmaidens, Paulina and Star, were also her most trustworthy informants. They had eyes and ears all over the manor, without even using any surveillance spell. The other witches tended to look down on them due to their Valley Girl attitude, which often made them look far less capable than they really were. Which was perfect for them and Sam, because that way any possible conspirators would lower their guard around them. 

If anyone sneezed in the manor, they would tell her. 

Paulina was about to ask about what course of action they should take, when a shrill voice broke the quiet atmosphere, immediately drawing the attention from everyone present in the large house. 

Sam hastily stood up from her chair just as Star burst the doors open, surprise etched to her skin. Making eye contact with her queen, she hurriedly arrived next to her, doubling over and panting from racing all the way there. 

Concerned, Sam put a hand on her shoulder as she ordered Paulina to bring her friend some water, but the blonde stopped her with a wave of her hand. “No,” she breathed, “this...this is...too important.”

“Star, what’s wrong?” The violet-eyed girl asked. 

Instead of an answer from her handmaiden, she received a neon green envelope closed by a wax seal. If the colour of the envelope weren’t unusual enough, the seal was shaped after a glaringly familiar logo:

A ghost shaped to include two initials; ‘DP’.

In cursive, the envelope said it was directed to the ‘Witch Queen of Amity Park.’ And an array of red, capital letters was pressed against its green surface, reading:

URGENT

Sam couldn’t hold back her astonishment, a hand barely covering her gasping mouth. Absent-mindedly, as if under a spell, she took several tentative steps back, until her back collided with her vanity. She could not believe her own eyes.

The Ghost King was personally addressing her. 

[emily-the-fae]

Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 4. Negotiations, Exortions and Stories of the Past

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6

Surprisingly, this story continues to move further for me.

Back to the characters where we left them in the previous part - with some heated arguments and intimate talks.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: none, apart from lung diseases, wounds and Adrian being a total sweetheart

Next morning Shari woke up to sounds of footsteps and hushed speech. Straight away she knew the upcoming conversation will have to be one hell of a diplomatic achievement – how do you explain your sudden desire to leave to a group of half vampire, speaker and a vampire hunter who were most probably fighting for your life during the last three days. Trevor would be completely furious. Better stand next to Sypha when presenting the decision, just in case he suddenly has the wish to use his whip. You never know how the Belmont reacts, though possibly Shari could still drag it through without making a big fuss – Lisa was definitely right about one thing: she has made a habit of negotiating her way with people, especially the ones that were apprehensive or disliked her. Truth to say, nine out of ten were either of the two.

- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?

- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?

- So far I wasn't so much required, you guys can carry on perfectly well without me.

- I'm still not sure if it is a good idea, Shari, if you want to get some rest by leaving... It may only be more dangerous for you, - Sypha argued.

- Don’t you even think of supporting her! She took a few years off our lifespans with this incident! We can’t just let you…

- No, wait, you don't get it, I...

- Shari!

- Stop bossing me around, Trevor, I am not a child! I have not finished.

- Trevor, please calm down, she is neither under your command, nor your sibling. If she wants to leave, it is her choice, - Adrian stepped in, clearly annoyed with the three.

- See? I can perfectly… - Shari tried to pick up.

- Shari, - Adrian interrupted. – Can I speak with you privately?

The healer was genuinely startled for a moment. She turned to look Adrian in the eyes – probably for the first time since the incident – trying to estimate his emotions and plan her defense strategy. She was never scared of him – or at least she never showed that he scared her sometimes, because surely being sane and realistic she could not ignore the obvious danger presented by those sharp fangs and golden eyes. Still Shari was used to considering him a friend, his malevolent side almost unable to turn against her.

Now she was startled and – honestly – slightly scared. For a moment she thought she saw it in his eyes that he looked right through her: that he perhaps watched her and Lisa or sensed her thoughts or some other vampire telepathy kind of thing. That maybe he thought she was a traitor.

Then he smiled warmly and nodded his head to the side, gesturing for her to follow him away from Trevor and Sypha – and Shari straight away knew whatever it was, he was ready to be on her side.

- Are you sure you need this resting? I mean clearly you do, you are paler than father when he wakes up, but still… Sari, I know you are stronger than you look, but a witch traveling alone during such a time doesn’t seem the brightest idea to me, - Adrian spoke quickly and quietly, for others not to hear their discussion. Shari felt ashamed for how it continued to surprise her that he sounded genuinely concerned.

- Adrian, I’ll be fine. I swear. I just… I don’t feel well…for, let’s say, various reasons, not only the attack. It just suddenly occurred to me that since your father seems to be watching and purposefully slowing you down, it may be a good decision for me to…

- To not stick around and lower the risk of encountering him or strong specifically directed demons? – she nodded in response. – Well, I can get that… And Shari, - he suddenly took her hand, his tone turning uncharacteristically warm. – I’m sorry.

- You don’t have to. We already spoke about…

- Not about that. About your disease. I’m so sorry. If only I knew how to help you – I could have known the way, you know, I once had the access to knowledge that could have… I’m so sorry for you.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Shari found herself unable to look into his eyes, staring at the ground.

- For how long have you known? – she rasped, barely recognizing her own quiet voice.

- Almost as soon as we met… Shari, I…

- Don’t. It’s alright, Adrian, I just didn’t realize you knew and this struck me a little…

- Do you know where you will be heading? – if she ever was grateful to him for anything – though she was grateful for plenty of things to be fair – it was his ability to catch onto the atmosphere and change the topic when it is very much needed.

- I… yeah sure, of course I do, I have a rough plan of what to do. Thanks, - she coughed dryly a few times, still refusing to lookup and meet his gaze.

- Shari?

- Yes.

- Promise me you will be fine. Not to be dramatic, but I… have gotten used to you quite a lot.

Shari chuckled.

- Will do my best, - she finally looked up at him and saw the half-vampire smile broadly. – I’ve gotten pretty used to you too, you overgrown puppy, - they stood in silence for some time.

- Almost forgot, one last thing before we face the storm of unacceptance named Trevor, - he blurted out, when she moved tostep away and turn back to the campsite.

- Yes?

Adrian did not say a word – he simply opened his arms and Shari fell into the embrace without even thinking. She felt utterly childish for being this familiar with him. She also felt it was nice to have someone to turn to when feeling torn and exhausted without having to explain the whirlwind of emotion in your head.

Shari shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Adrian who let her go with such ease. He knew he could trust her decisions, he always did. She was somewhat flattered by the way he treated her as an advisor and assistant even though she was no way as knowledgeable as him; the half-vampire always showed that he believed she had an own analyzed perspective of things, that she wouldn’t be reckless. This time though his trust in her rationality might have failed him. Any way it was, he openly supported her decision and expressed the hope that she would be able to catch up with them in some time.

Shari knew Trevor thought Dracula hypnotized her into surrender and laughed at it to herself. If only he had a clue that it was the human Dracula's wife who controlled her.

In the end of that emotionally exhausting morning they finally parted ways: the trio went in the direction of the closest town, hesitant to leave their friend, but unwillingly agreeing it should be done for greater good; Shari stayed at the campsite with Rodo for a bit longer, motivating it with the need of rest. Adrian threw a concerned glance in her direction, but said nothing. The vampire felt there was something wrong, but decided to let it slide, since he had already supported her decision; if she said she needed rest, then so be it.

In fact, although Shari did tell him she had a rough plan of further action, in reality she had little to no ideas in which direction to move and absolutely no wish of discussing it with thin air in front of her disbelieving friends: they would definitely not see Lisa and they would definitely think she was hallucinating after the attack. To be fair, she could never herself be sure if that wasn't exactly the case. Maybe she was talking to an imaginary friend. However, since she had already decided to believe in the ghost's existence, she had to play along that assumption.

Lisa didn’t leave her waiting and appeared as soon as they were left alone, Shari sitting by the campfire a little lost and a little tired; a victorious smile played on the ghost's lips, as she sat by the fire next to the girl. Rodo made no sign of noticing their guest, only slightly shaking his furry head and letting out a jawn.

- What? - asked Shari, annoyed by the constant attention of the ghost. She took the cattle off the fire and set it aside to cool down a bit. She needed something warm to drink if she wanted to keep her blood and lungs inside her body.

- We have to move out, - Lisa smiled, now more gently, watching the human's movements.

- It would be nice if I knew where we went, - replied Shari, slowly looking around, taking in the little amount of her personal belongings lying about - there wouldn't be much packing when she would have finally decided to pick herself off the ground.

- I'll guide you.

- What if you disappear?

- I won't.

- What if I don't want to go? What if you only tell me that you are leading me to the castle, while in reality you will lead me to Dracula? That is actually most probably what is going to happen, - Shari finally expressed her greatest worry and doubt. She could not just trust Lisa, she wanted to, but couldn't bring herself to do so. The woman was most probably still here because of them - Dracula and Adrian - so her greatest concern would be to stop their fight in any way possible in order to finally peacefully leave them, not care about some girl getting hurt in the process.

- I believe you will just have to trust me. I have told you already, I only want to stop this war with as little blood as possible, especially when it comes to Adrian’s or Vlad-I meant Dracula’s blood. You will be of very little help to me if I simply spend time leading you to your death. Besides, I shall remind you, that your illness is not exactly leading you to a happy life, so you decided trusting me on that one, - Lisa winked at her and stood up; Shari clenched her teeth: well, that was a very good point, but definitely a blow-below-the-waist strategy. - We should move out, the sooner we start - the quicker we'll be there.

- You know, you're like an older sister that I never wished to have, - Shari huffed in annoyance, but finished her tea quickly and proceeded to pack. The fact that she was annoyed didn't cancel the fact that Lisa was right. She had to move out.

***

The day trip was completely uneventful. The few villages they had passed didn't show any signs of having been attacked, but Lisa still made Shari keep away from them - maybe it was for the best, people were very unsafe these days, the fear made them aggressive to any newcomers. Especially to ones possessing magical powers and followed by black wolf-demons. Going alone to such a village could be suicidal.

It was only at the age of ten, that Shari found out she had it in her. That one trait that made people wish your head on a pike no matter how you behave. Animals weren't just "friendly" with her, no-no, friendly is one understandable thing, especially with a little child. However, "friendly" is definitely not the most accurate description of the behaviour of the large black wolf that almost attacked her one day on the edge of the woods, stopping in mid-jump as the girl turned to face it - next picture: the wolf rolling on the ground before her like and ordinary dog demanding bellyrubs. The animals would not simply like her, they would obey her as if she spoke to them directly. She had no idea where the power came from and so preferred to think she was born into her witchcraft. Her mother insisted upon it too, saying that poor old gramma was the same odd thing in her youth. At least that was what Shari remembered her saying when they did discuss her little problem. That was until she turned sixteen – until she suddenly was separate from her family and out on her own. Until the first time the people wanted to get her burned. First of many more to come.She had learned to control herself and make use of herself, never expressing anything people would see as dark wizardry, nothing even seemingly malevolent, working for the local healer, helping out as much as she could and learning some things here or there by herself about herbs and illnesses - not a study, barely a child's curiosity.

Then it was a year of particularly poor crops after an awfully dry summer, Shari sensed it was coming before she ever knew why it was so - the villagers had no other way of dealing with such misfortunes. They placed all the blame on the odd girl who learned to cure wounds and diseases and spoke to the wild animals as she pleased. Burning witches was a very common sacrifice, after all.

The night before the burning was the night she ran. She knew they would come for her, so she escaped before they could get her, left her home to set to travel into unknown. And never truly stopped running ever since.

Lisa pitied her for that, even though Shari tried to brush it off as nothing. She was a witch after all and turned to be quite a good thief, quite some reason for the other humans to hate her already, even though she couldn't say theft pleased her herself - she was surviving the way she could: moving about and healing didn't ever buy her enough bread or material. The longest she ever stayed in a town was three months - then the cycle had to start over.

Lisa understood her reasoning for that quite well. At first she wanted to argue that staying longer might have bought Shari some trust, but held her tongue - she wasn't one to give that sort of advice, not now, not after everything that happened to her exactly for staying a little too long.

When they finally stopped for the night, Shari was almost falling - her legs unwilling to carry her anymore - and bending over in loud wet coughs, feeling the taste of her own blood in her mouth and suffocating in attempts to hold back from even more coughing. The freezing weather and bloodloss, even compensated with Sypha's magic, were not going to make this journey easier for her. Shari felt the feather light caress of the ghost's hand on her back and breathed in deeply, trying to calm her heartrate.

There was pain in her ribs now too - she was scratched quite badly a few days ago by one of the attacking demons. They were fighting off several of the things and one jumped her from behind: neither she nor Rodo had noticed it before. Shari succeeded in turning to face it, making the demon bounce off her and back away as soon as she made eye contact - these things were usually not much harder to control than wolves, especially with Rodo at her side. Unfortunately, before she managed to kick it off completely, the demon had left an unpleasant scratch across her ribcage, making her fall to the ground and lose the mental contact - the beast jumped back on her in a matter of seconds and for a moment Shari thought that would be her end. Only by luck Adrian was swift enough to protect her, fighting the thing away and aiding her to recover later - the sharp claws left three deep gashes on her skin and the girl had to spend a long time tending to herself after the fight, hoping the wound would not get infected with whatever those things could carry on their paws.

The wound had been nicely bandaged before, all was going well, but apparently Dracula's attack had erased that bit of responsibility from her memory and now Shari suddenly faced yet another problem: rebandaging was not only desirable, but very much a necessity by the time she dropped to the ground, settling for the night. The soaked and dried blood on the old bands now scratched and tore at the healing wound, causing her pain.

- ‘T is okay, - she told the ghost, quickly going to sit down on the ground. Removing the band did not take much time as well as putting on a new one-not when she was used to doing it anyways, but removing a part of her clothes let the cold bite her even more in the process, so when she was finished, she was freezing to the bone, so she wrapped herself in whatever warm cloths she had left and pressed closer to Rodo, to keep at least some body heat to herself. They decided to make no fires, as Shari was now mostly defenseless and the girl already felt how much she would regret parting ways with her friends. Lisa's care and Rodo's warm side couldn't do much to keep away the cold and her lungs were almost screaming in protest. She looked at Lisa's pitiful apologetic face and whispered: - I'm already used to it, - no you aren't, this is getting worse by second and you desperately need a fire.

- You have to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow we'll start off at dusk, - Shari lay between Rodo's back and a large tree trunk; Lisa sat next to her head, looking down at the tired healer.

- I wish it was just as easy for me to move as it is for you, - Shari whispered sleepily.

- Trust me, you don't, - both laughed.

- How much is there left? Of the way?

- If you're lucky - and persistent, we may be there by tomorrow night, - Lisa answered reassuringly.

- Really? That's so fast... Too fast, to be fair. I thought the castle was hard to catch, - she stared back at Lisa.

- Parts of it yes, it moves as a whole. But there are stable parts - that one particular entrance was the one I used when I first found him. It was very hard to track - not many know about it, it's kind of in magically protected grounds or something - nobody has the incentive to go there, - the ghost explained.

- But you had, - Shari smirked.

- Of course I had.

- I wonder how he hadn’t killed you straight away.

- Oh, but he wanted to. He tried to frighten me – told me he would drink my blood, all that classical stuff.

- So what did you do?

- Told him his manners needed repolishing.

Pause. Shari chuckled. Then snorted. Then laughed out loud.

- And he did not murder you for such an offense?

- I believe he wanted to for a moment, but was too startled to act… And then it sort of…happened. I believe it was a big “why not” for both of us, until we suddenly saw something deeper to it, - Lisa smiled to herself, seemingly diving through memories.

- Sounds a little like me meeting Adrian for the first time – God knows I saw those large fangs and yellow eyes straight away, I knew very well what he was, just couldn’t…

- Can’t beware the dark, when it’s choice between stepping in or watching someone suffer?

- Something of the kind. My self-preservation goes way below. I called him in when I saw him bleeding out by the edge of the town – half expected him to drain me as soon as I bandaged him and when he… well, as you can see, didn’t… We just talked. He stayed over for a week gaining strength, not attempting to eat me – I guess that was the first out of the only two occasions when someone I have helped did not try to accuse me of devilish business in one way or another and just accepted the help. Of course he had to be not human.

- The second time that happened was with Rodo, wasn’t it? Humans don’t tend to be overly grateful.

Both chuckled.

- Adrian seems quite attached to you, - Lisa turned to Shari. – Thanks for that. For accepting him. I was always worried that he will have a hard time fitting in…pretty much anywhere, being what he is. So thank you.

- No need to. He is nice, your son. Feels like having a friend for once.

Pause. Shari shrugged and sighed.

- Tomorrow, you said, right? Though I can't say that I'm exactly lucky, so your prediction about the time is probably too optimistic, we are bound to have some struggle tomorrow,- she huffed, turning to her side and snuggling to Rodo's furry back.

- The castle shouldn't be so far away, it is quite close to Tragoviste, shouldn't have taken us long, - Lisa explained. - And you are lucky, sunshine - remember? You survived Dracula's bite. That mark on your neck is your lucky ticket now, - Lisa winked and lay back against the tree trunk. Shari wanted to think of a witty reply, but was interrupted by another violent fit of cough and decided to let it go. The healer cuddled into Rodo’s warm side and fell into uneasy sleep, hoping that the morning would bring at least some relief.

[charming-mage]

The Ghost Zone’s Running Joke Part 2 (Lila Salt Fic)

I find it fitting to finish this in October. Fits the Halloween season.

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Vlad Masters is here to take on the role of Mayor of Amity Park. Lila’s sees her golden ticket in the billionaire. His money makes the Agrestes look like paupers. His wealth and the connections that can be made through him might just be enough for the A-Listers.

It’s not hard to notice the strained relationship between Danny and Vlad. Danny wants nothing to do with the man. No matter what Vlad does, the high schooler aggressively rejects it. Lila figures she can do for him what she did for Mr. Agreste: spying and giving reports. In return, pulling some strings for a good internship at city hall or one of his businesses. The status of an internship at a good place and future in making lots of money might just be enough.

Lila makes her move. She’s able to catch Vlad after another failed attempt. Far from the students’ prying eyes, an offer is made. She’ll help him keep an eye on Danny, and give Vlad information on the teenager. The offer is prettied up to sound nicer then saying it’ll involve spying and violating Danny’s privacy. There’s regret in not cozying up to Danny. Would’ve made things easier.

Vlad turns her down. Says some things about not wanting to violate his trust like that. Wants to win him over his own way. In reality, he doesn’t need her. There’s spy cameras in the Fenton home and ghosts on his payroll. Besides, why would he want the help of a human female minor? Not a good look.

Lila is disappointed, but is not ready to give up yet. Plots form in her head to arrange situations to her advantage. ‘Accidently’ bumping into him and just so happen to have some interesting information. Too bad for her, the plan doesn’t workout to well because of a new lie she’s telling Casper High students.

Plasmius spotted in Amity Park gives Lila inspiration for a new lie. She claims the ghost is kind to her. Implies he sees her as attractive. The teenager doesn’t have the life experience to understand why this is a problem. Thinks admiration like this from an adult means nothing.

Let’s just say it’s an understatement this doesn’t go down well with the adults. When the students tell their parents, there’s an uproar. A recent Plasmius and Phantom fight at the school adds fuel to the fire. The fight is now seen as the ghost hero protecting minors from a pedophile. 

People demand city hall, the Fentons, and the Guys in White to prioritize hunting down the Wisconsin Ghost. Phantom is not a major threat compared to the older ghost. Heck, Phantom has been seen to reject advances from his fans.

Vlad is forced to go along with this. If he hesitated it’d look very bad. Only saving grace here is Lila is a known liar among the ghosts. Things would have gone very bad for him otherwise. After this catastrophe, Vlad is cold to Lila. Refuses to humor her much to her dismay. What a lovely introduction to the Ghost Zone’s running joke.

Meanwhile with Team Phantom, they’re having a group meeting on what to do about Lila. Danny catching Lila stalking him (as Fenton) is the last straw. Danny is all for calling her out. It irritates him to watch the liar being fawned over for a fake connection. The friendship lie is encouraging his fans to be bolder.

Sam, the voice of reason, vetoes this plan. Trying to disprove Lila’s lies as Fenton is a horrible idea. No one will believe the loser at the bottom of the social hierarchy. It also adds a target on his back. Who knows what Lila will do to keep a lid on this. That Lila is willing to stalk, snoop, and snitch to Vlad is not good. It shows the teenager won’t stop at small lies to get what she wants.

On the other hand, confronting her as Phantom will make people think there’s a grain of truth in Lila’s story. It’ll be easy to twist it as a falling out. Besides, they don’t want to bring more attention on the ghost attacks at the school then there already is. If people believe Phantom, then it’ll be obvious the hero is at the school often enough to hear it. Which means more scrutiny and surveillance. 

Tucker has a plan. Simply pretend to have no idea who Lila is or haven’t heard the rumors. One day an Amity Park resident is going to point blank ask him. It’ll be easy to stick around long enough after a ghost fight at Casper High. A student will be sure to bring up the subject.

Luckily for Danny, an opportunity appears within a week. After capturing a ghost, he allows Paulina to catch up to him. Paulina does the usual gushing over him. When she brings up Lila, he sticks to the plan. “....Oh you’re talking about that long haired Brunette. Layla? Lie-la?” Let’s just say the popular girl is not happy to have been made a fool of in front of the entire school. It’s one thing to tell unimportant white lies. It’s another thing to make Paulina look stupid.

Paulina is not the only one finding out about Lila’s lies. Some Amity Park residents have noticed the ghosts reaction to Lila. Their interactions stand out as most ghosts don’t usually target an individual. If they do, it’s usually a one time thing. That this girl is well known to the ghosts and this drama hasn’t calmed down yet is suspicious. 

Lance Thunder manages to get an on the scene interview with a ghost. He asks the burning question: “What’s so funny about this girl?” Other ghosts invite themselves to the interview when word spreads. It’s revealed Lila lied about knowing the ghost hero. It’s funny to them how hard the girl tries to be Phantom’s friend. Unknowingly, her actions cause him to keep his distance from her. Respecting Phantom, the ghosts don’t reveal his Halfa status. That doesn’t stop them from sharing stories. They just neglect to mention if it happened as Phantom or Fenton.

“I held her hostage and Phantom didn’t believe me when I said I had his friend. Told me all his friends are accounted for. He had no idea who this girl was.”

“She stalks him.”

“The child told me to my face Phantom will permanently end me if I harmed her. If she really knew him, she’d know Mr. Hero Complex would never cross that line.”

As the witnesses go on, it’s pretty clear Lila is a liar. This combined with Paulina’s revenge campaign, Lila’s rise as a future A-lister is finished. She never did manage to find a solution to rich requirement in time.

Lila is the social pariah at the school. Lower on the totem pole than Team Phantom and the nerds. There’s no escape to a new school this time. Mrs. Rossi is dealing with the aftermath of the ‘Ladybug is incompetent’ lies. (She finally got around to telling her boss about it.) Mr. Rossi is trying to transfer to another city, but Amity Park has a bad reputation. Outsiders view the ‘ghost believing fanatics’ lowly.

Mrs. Rossi doesn’t have any family to turn to. Her only family members left died years ago. Mr. Rossi is an orphan. It’s a hard choice, but Lila is staying in Amity Park. The uncertain future of Mrs. Rossi’s job is the deciding factor. There’s money to spare for anti-etco defenses. Unlike ghosts, there’s no products to deal with Akumas.

So Lila is stuck in Amity Park until her dad finds a new job in a different city. It’s not so fun being known as the town liar. Or the Ghost Zone’s laughing stock. No one believes her when the Box Ghost moves the packed boxes in the art room. Or Phantom calling her the girl who cried wolf. 

The drama filled the ghosts’ boredom. Watching Phantom doing his best to tolerate her is a must see for visiting ghosts. They still for years tease him about his ‘dishonest friend.’ 

[vampiresuns]

Such You and I

✴︎♈︎ SUCH YOU AND I ♈︎✴︎

2.8k words. In which Valerius worries about Anatole and finds it impossible to be the Consul in front of him. When it comes to him, he will always be his uncle. He will always be Valeriy. Set as a companion piece to ‘Creature Comfort’.

This mentions Jamil, Alec and Leon, who belong to @apprenticealec​.

“Clean water sources, especially if we can get a way to pool the infected water back so we can study it are a priority, the chain supply for the flooded district completely broke, and you need to speak to the Guild of Merchants about it. A new group of nurses has been taken to the Lazaret this morning, and according to three different accounts we should get more court magicians to see whether or not this disease has a magical origin. Did I miss anything, Consul?”

Valerius watched Anatole as he made a sprint outside of the room, considering having him stopped. He was about to but decided against it. Bringing Anatole by force back would only make whatever had gotten into him worse, though he knew his nephew enough to have a couple of ideas about what it could be. 

Foolish boy, he thought, yet kept his assessments to himself despite a couple of tries from Lucio to rouse a reply out of him. He would rather keep his nephew away from his former hate-fuck’s mouth, thanks very much.

He had no choice but to continue this horrid meeting on his own.

His anger towards Aelius was measured: it was about leaving a meeting in such a manner and allowing his feelings to get the best of him, leaving him alone in an useless, frustrating position. How dare he leave him when he knew he had begun to hate his job so much, the fallout of it becoming too big for the satisfactions it brought too quickly. Valerius didn’t mind being ignored, he needn’t people agreeing with him to assert himself; he hated being embarrassed and being played a fool in a Court where he was the only adept Courtier. 

He was responsible for almost every office and he was already about to go postal about it, no need for his nephew to leave a meeting in such an unbecoming fashion. 

So yes, as the Consul he was furious, but as an uncle, not as Valerius of the Cassano of Vesuvia but as Valeriy Radošević, brother of Vlad, son (sort of) of Florentino and Mircea, he was worried sick.

‘Lilu’ had stellar Court records. Of course, there were a couple of incidents here and there, but overall no one else of the younger Court members did as well as Anatole. He had checked, being the Consul allowed him some leeway in demanding certain papers to be delivered to his desk.

Anatole staying was less of a matter of proving himself (his notes and his record keeping were impeccable, and if something were to be missing, he knew his nephew would know how to make up for it), and more of a matter of strategy. Lucio, whether anyone wanted it or not, was going to die. Perhaps the Plague would take all of before it took him, but he couldn’t outlast it. If he died, Satrinava would become the Countess and in that case, Valerius planned to book his office and leave in the hands of Anatole because no ambition of his was big enough to stand having that woman as her boss. 

Incompetent goodie-two shoes. Lucio should’ve never been the Count, he didn’t have any sort of political capacity and whatever old man Spada was on when he appointed him as his successor proved to be a stronger drug than those Valerius was aware existed. But Nadia, a Prakran, former war enemy of Vesuvia taking the position was suspicious. What were her territorial ambitions? What was the true position of her desires for the City? She couldn’t both be Lucio’s wife and someone who pretended to care about Vesuvians. 

It didn’t even work as a publicity stunt, and Valerius knew all about caring for publicity. But she was good, and he couldn’t stand her, so the sooner Anatole took his duties from him when Lucio finally left this world with a pile of unsolved bullshit for them to deal with, the better. 

Anatole was supposed to be there to prove himself a worthy Consul to Satrinava, in case she took over and decided bringing someone from outside was better than having a Cassano for a Consul. A friendly reminder of how inadvisable that was, so to speak: the County was Vesuvia’s head, but the Consulship was its neck, and the head turned wherever the neck wanted it to. 

Even through his machinations, Valeriy-The-Uncle came through. Anatole was grieving. They all were. Anatole grieved Paris, his maternal aunt, who had died from a blood disease unrelated to the Plague. He grieved the death of Vesuvians, he grieved the death of Anzano and was worried about Amparo who hadn’t caught the plague while tending to them by a miracle. Anatole had too many duties which weren’t his responsibility, like Valerius himself, and yet shouldered them with more excellence than he himself did. He tended to keep longer hours and he still grieved.

There was also Alec, Jamil’s protegée and Anatole’s friend, who had died under Dr. Devorak’s care — while that had been her own decision, it had made Anatole and the Doctor stand on weird ground, all of the sudden. He grieved that too.

Valerius was sorry for it. He didn’t pity his nephew, he wasn’t stupid. Anatole was never to be the subject of anyone’s pity and if anyone ever did have the gall to have such an inferior feeling towards him, then they’d have to have some words about it with Valerius. Instead, he was sad about Anatole. His little pest was never meant to be a creature of hardship, yet the world cared little for that. His little pest deserved to be happy, more than most. 

And his little pest had run directly into a plague ridden City at the mere mention of his friends’ sadness, and Valerius suspected it was so he didn’t have to deal with his own.

That, or Anatole was running back to Leon. If he was, Anatole was more of a fool than Valerius ever thought his nephew capable of being. Granted, he didn’t always understand his choices in partners, and he suspected neither did Anatole about his own. Though meaning no offence to Jamil’s friend — for once — he truly did think Anatole could do better than Leon. 

He could, for example, find someone who was willing to stay for him, withstand his shitstorm of a job with him, not out of selfish interest but out of love for Anatole. He deserved someone who thought the sun rose and set with him, and the moon shone to illuminate him only. Call him a sap, an old romantic, but Valerius believed it, and he didn’t believe Leon was capable of it. 

After the meeting he settled in the library, giving notice to his office to please let him know if his nephew came back. He picked a book at random and paid absolutely no attention as he waited, looking out of one of the windows instead. He supposed it was a bit hypocritical of him to judge Leon for that, when he knew Jamil was in town and he couldn’t even get up his own buttocks to see his friend. 

“But it’s different,” he muttered to himself. 

Was it? He was going to stand by thinking it was, and it wasn’t like it didn’t put him to shame. He was well aware he should be there for Jamil, or at least to try and reach out; however their history was different, more complex, more difficult. Leon wasn’t the reason Anatole had dramatically declared at the age of 21 he would never marry, pretending he didn’t wish for romantic partnership. Anatole wasn’t out there refusing such connection because he thought deep down, he was doomed to repeat terrible relationship patterns. 

It didn’t matter most people in his family had had good, healthy relationships. His parents, his actual parents, Florentino’s Cousin and Mircea’s brother, had been a dumpster fire waiting for an explosion to befall on them, and he was their son. What if nature won over nurture? He didn’t want to find out. Anatole wasn’t like him in that regard… or was he? Was he like himself and his father who feared good things would elude them and therefore found a way to cope about it? Could it be that Anatole’s way to cope was hope? Was it trying no matter the stakes? Was pulling himself up with an inner strength and clarity Valerius had seldom seen in anyone?

Anatole couldn’t be that way. If the Gods, whomever those were, had to spare someone of that, it would have to be his nephew, right?

Two hours passed and Valerius decided to put the book he had picked up where he had found it. After confirming Aelius had not come back to the Palace, he retired to his home, deciding to walk the way between the Palace and the Palazzo, with Anatole still on his mind. His brother and his sister-in-law would not be happy when Valerius returned on his own with no idea of what it had been of Anatole but a highly probable guess.

Still, a highly probably guess was the same of no guess at all when it came to worried parents. 

“What do you think of it?” He asked them as they waited. 

His brother’s eyes furrowed in concentration in the same way Anatole’s did. “I think,” Vlad said, “he’s old enough to know what he’s doing, Valeriy.” 

“So you’re not worried?”

Vlad snorted. “Oh, I’m worried sick, alright. There’s an epidemic outside, but I also know that Anatole never does things without a reason, even when he’s being impulsive.” 

“Now, I wouldn’t call him impulsive. Foolish, perhaps.”

“Hey!” Louisa said, throwing a dressing pillow to Valerius. She was the only one who could ever get away with such an act. “My son is not a fool.”

“Running after Leon is a foolish reason.”

“Wasn’t Leon the musician, friend of your friend?”

“He is. You met him for Anatole’s last birthday.”

“The one Nemesi said he didn’t know Toly liked them older, wicked sense of humour, wore a very pretty dress?” 

“That one, yes.” 

Vlad and Louisa looked at each other, the former grimacing, the latter sighing. Louisa spoke first. “Val, darling, go to bed, I think this is one of those matters Anatole will have to sort out on his own. Don’t be too hard on him, he’s going through a lot. I am worried about him, but I’m more worried about him having a nervous episode than anything else. And if you’re worried about his safety, do remember Anatole has your temper and a wonderful proclivity to make people trapped into situations with him that they will later regret.”

“I can’t understand how you can be so resigned.” 

Louisa shrugged. “I’ve been in dangerous situations per my own choosing, and I was exiled for it, and you know this. I am worried but I also trust my son’s capacities. Let’s just say I understand Anatole in a way you two could never do, just like there are certain things about him you two understand in a way I’ll never be able to, as well.

“I will never be able to understand his particular brand of intensity, as much as I love it, respect it, cherish it and find it enlightening, and you will never be able to understand what it’s like to risk your life for that which you love in the same way I will.” 

“Two words, Lulu, dearling, Balkovian and war.” 

“I think she’s right Valeriy.”

“Of course you side with your wife.”

“Idiot,” Vlad said as he kicked his brother’s foot, “Balkovia is different, and you weren’t there in the war anyway, your duties as the Consul called you too son, and in my case, it’s not love for the place, per se, which made me stay. I am proud of how everything turned out all things considered, and I am really fucking done with the Federation every day of my life nonetheless, and I don’t want to do anything with its politics. I do my job for the people I think are less terrible than the other, and that’s it. You know how Anatole feels about this City. My son could fucking bleed himself dry for it if no one stopped him, and you know it.”

“This City isn’t worth it. Don’t give me that look, Consul Cassano my ass. It isn’t… and neither is Leon.”

“Is Jamil?”

“Vladislav, I am warning you.”

“What I’m saying, you temperamental idiot, is that we measure what we love in different ways that don’t always make sense for the people who don’t love them.” 

“How is that supposed to be soothing? How is that supposed to not worry me? Anatole deserves better.” 

Vlad stood up, looking down at his brother with exasperation, using every inch over him that he had in his advantage. “Maybe he does, but I don’t know Leon. I do know how it feels to be judged by people higher and mightier than you solely because of an accident of circumstance — and so should you Valeriy. That you act like it doesn’t mean Jamil’s mother—“ 

“Say one more word, Vladislav, I dare you.” 

“Oh, do you?” 

“That is enough!” Louisa’s voice rang through the parlour. “We’ve never micromanaged our son, we’re not about to start now. Vlad, we should go to bed, your brother can do as he pleases. Or at least, we should wait for Anatole somewhere where he won’t find you too arguing about him, because if you make my son feel guilty I won’t speak to either of you for a week.” 

Both of them dropped it. One was married to Louisa, the other had known her for years and was one of the few people who got to see the full extent of who Valerius was. His sister in law had been nothing but supportive throughout all his time knowing her, many times being a comforting presence with her witty commentary about what to do with politicians and Courtiers Valerius didn’t like. Fighting with her was tempting because right now he would fight with anyone, but it was a stupid move. 

The truth was Louisa was right — not that he would admit it right now. The only physical place Valerius had ever been happy in was the Radošević Vineyard in one of the Balkovian peninsulas. His relationship with Vesuvia was complicated at best, obligatory at worst and when it came to musicians who brought with them their adventures of the world and easy laugh, and very warm feelings maybe they weren’t so different, after all. 

Anatole arrived well into the night, still crying. Trying to make the least fuss possible, he tried to get to his bedroom through the Consul’s home office and then the library. Valeriy never used that office anyway, so there was no reason for him to be there, or anyone at all. Yet, because his luck couldn’t get any worse, he was there, sitting on the desk, skimming over a book he closed shut with unnecessary force when Anatole made it through the door. Of course his uncle was angry with him.

“Listen—”

“What on earth were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, Valeriy.”

“You clearly weren’t. You left me stranded in a meeting, which you left running, after talking back at me as if I were what.”

“You’re not going to tell me off for snapping at the Count?”

“Ostentatious of you to assume I care what happens to him.”

They both held each other’s gaze. Anatole’s eyes were puffy, his nose was red with cold. It was so obvious his nephew had cried all the way back from City Centre. Valerius sighed, he found it really, really hard to be the Consul when Anatole would always be his nephew. 

“But more importantly,” he said, his voice softer as he left the book aside and came down from the desk, “you worried me sick. Aelius what was that?”

The dam broke. Anatole’s lip trembled as he tried to speak but instead of words, tears and crying overtook him. He cried with silent sobs, trying not to make a sound at all, as if it would all go away if he was quiet enough. It reminded him of himself, it reminded him of his older brother. Perhaps he had been correct and they weren’t so different after all. 

“Oh, come here, just don’t stain my shirt.”

“I come from outside.”

“I don’t care.”

“Valeriy—”

“I said I didn’t care.”

Anatole gave in and hugged his uncle, who was well aware his nephew was passing his mid-twenties, but crying in his arms it was like Anatole was 10 again and asking why did he have to be so weird. 

“My foolish, wonderful nephew.” 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, no you’re not, and in any case, you’re not a fool much different than myself… How was—” no, he couldn’t ask about him. Instead, he sighed into his nephew’s hair. “Why don’t we go let your parents know you’re home alright?”

“Alright,” Anatole sniffled. “Were my notes okay for the meeting?”

“They were spectacular, they always are,” Valerius was’t lying. “Now, no more work, let’s go find my brother and your mother.”

[vannahfanfics]

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter.

Skyward

Ao3

Chapter 1: Earthbound, Heavensent

The brake lever squealed as Katsuki yanked it hard, a toothpick clenched between his teeth as he cast a look at the elevator. The ancient metalwork shuddered and groaned as it came to a screeching stop within the shaft, its rusted top barely brushing the jagged top of the stone roof. I keep tellin’ the old man that damn elevator is too ancient! Katsuki thought bitterly, leaning back in the torn cloth stool on which he was perched. The wire elevator door squeaked as the miners wrenched it open; the mine cart was even squeakier as they wheeled it in across the coal dust-covered metal tracks. Katsuki crossed his arms as he squinted at their haul. 

“What do we have?” Vlad grunted as he crossed the rocky mine, a massive wrench hefted on his shoulder. He didn’t wait for his workers to answer, plucking up a black slab of stone to inspect it critically. “Coal again, huh? The market’s becoming saturated with the stuff… If we don’t start finding something more valuable, then we’ll be out of business.” He tossed the coal back into the cart. The men looked defeated as they pushed it away, preparing to unload it alongside the mountains of coal they’d already mined that day. 

Vlad strolled to a large wheel attached to the machinery lining the blue stone walls. He gripped it with his gloved hands, grunted as he turned the rust-covered wheel to shut down the mine workings for the day. The pipes overhead squealed and shuddered and groaned as high-pressure steam changed course within their bowels. Just as Katsuki was slipping down from the stool, a pipe released a high-pitched whine and began to swell up, bulging with building-up steam. 

“Boss!” he exclaimed, and as Vlad whipped around with narrowed eyes, the pipe aneurysm burst. “Damn it!” Katsuki cried as hot steam gushed from the open pipe just mere inches from him. The heat bloomed across his forearm and legs, the water vapor hissing against the cloth of his overalls and white cotton shirt. Somehow he managed to avoid being scalded as he scurried to the nearest bypass valve. “This damn mine is gonna be the death of us, not the market!” he yelled over the wailing steam. 

As he closed off the pipe, it shifting the steam pressure to another path. The stream of vapor rapidly dwindled until only condensed water dripped from the jagged-edged hole in the metal. Katsuki sniffed in disdain, rolling the toothpick around in his teeth. Vlad only growled at the busted pipes and pulled the brim of his hat down over his blood-red eyes. 

“If this keeps up, we’ll all be starving soon,” he mumbled. He tapped the wrench against his broad shoulder with a small sigh, then lifted his hat to look at Katsuki. “All right, lad, your turn to lock up for the night. Go grab yourself some grub first; I know you skipped lunch today to repair the elevator.” 

“Yeah, only on your orders, old man!” Katsuki retorted snidely, trying to retain his pride as his stomach yowled and scratched within his belly. His mouth twitched in discomfort as the beast of hunger raged inside him. It would be a pain to trek to the village, even if it was ten minutes or so, but… he could really go for some meatballs about now. His boss tossed his head invitingly, indicating for Katsuki to follow the miners on their departure. Snorting, Katsuki grabbed his bag and stomped after them. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself, leavin’ a kid like me to lock up the mine,'' he huffed as he tromped alongside the large man. “What if I get eaten by wolves, huh?” 

“You, eaten by wolves?” Vlad laughed, tilting back his head as he guffawed. “I’d be more concerned about you eating them !” 

“Come on, now, I ain’t some beast !” 

“Are ya sure? You’re pretty beastly to me, youngun,” Vlad teased and threw a burly arm around his neck to yank him close. Katsuki snarled as his nose was pressed right into his sweaty armpit, dank with sweat and toil and the tang of coal dust. As Katsuki squirmed around, bleating to be released, Vlad continued to chortle and dug his knuckles into his scalp, mussing up his ash-blond hair. 

“Fuck off, ya old geezer!” Katsuki finally managed to yank his head away and sucked down a breath of fresh air, relishing the taste of dew and earth replacing the musty sweat of Vlad’s armpit. “ You’re the beast! You smell like a dump; you go home to yer wife smellin’ like that?” 

“At least I have a wife,” Vlad grinned. Katsuki flushed in anger and looked away; a few paces away, fellow mine worker Tetsutetsu— and the only one around Katsuki’s age— was regaling an older gentleman about his lovely wife Mina who was cooking his favorite dish that night. Katsuki wasn’t exactly jealous or anything; why the hell should he be concerned about things like that? Still, it did get lonely, living by himself in his house on the hill. 

“Fuck off,” Katsuki repeated. His quiet tone made Vlad hum thoughtfully and gave him the sense not to push the issue further. Katsuki wasn’t jealous or anything, not at all. He just lived his life, working in the mine and trekking back to his shack on the hill— day in, day out, all by his lonesome. 

Katsuki stopped at the general store in the middle of town, while Vlad and the other workers continued on, trundling home to their wives and families. Katsuki’s expression was pensive as he quietly ordered some meatballs from the young woman manning the counter; though the place was mostly a general store, the old woman who owned the place also had a little to-go diner set up in the corner, mostly because the miners trekked by on both their morning and evening commutes. The woman filled a metal thermos with steaming, sauce-coated meatballs and he fished out some crumpled bills to pay. 

As he walked the path he came, he used his fingers to fish out some of the meatballs. He popped them into his mouth, silently chewing with lidded eyes. His footsteps crunched on the dirt path, echoing through the fields flanking him on either side. His only accompaniment was his shadow, bobbing alongside him as the bright white moon cast him in its gentle light. He actually did hear a coyote howl in the distance, making him look into the hills with a slight shudder. As he did, he caught a glint of pink light in his peripheral vision. 

“What the…?” He stopped on the path as he squinted at the strange pink light twinkling in the inky black sky. He could almost mistake it for a star, except it was slowly descending to earth. 

“It’s heading toward the mine!” He took off down the path, ignoring the canteen of meatballs swinging against his thigh. He was too concerned with getting to the strange, slowly falling star dropping towards the mine. The pink glow grew brighter and brighter, flickering like a soft flame. 

Within, he thought he could see… a body? 

“Is that a person ?” he exclaimed in disbelief. Finally, he came to the scaffolding overlooking the large shaft leading down into the mine. The glow was heading downwards, towards the center. He slammed his meatballs down, cursing as they fell over and sent sauce spilling across the wood; he hurriedly righted it, cursing again as it scalded his skin, and looked back to the strange falling person. 

He could see clearly now; it was a girl in a white nightgown, the fabric and her short-cut chestnut hair gently fluttering as ribbons of pink magic streamed around her. She drifted down over the large platform holding the winch, so Katsuki scrambled up the rickety steps on all fours to clamber like a beast across the platform. He stood up on the edge, panting slightly from his feverish dash, and held out his arms. 

The girl gently floated down, the wisps of rose-colored magic swirling around her like water. It tickled his skin as it flickered around him, and it was cool like water, too. It rose goosebumps on his skin as it rippled over his arms, soon joined by the soft kiss of her cotton nightgown. She suspended over his touch for a second, the magic swirling around them like a storm, before it slowly retracted into the glittering gemstone pendant hovering above her neck. 

“Whoa…” he murmured, his red eyes reflecting the beautiful coral of the pendant. It has a gold insignia painted on its round surface. As the light retreated within its translucent surface, the girl stopped hovering and flopped down into his arms. The sudden weight shocked him, bringing him to his knees. He groaned as he just barely held himself in a crouch, arms straining to keep the girl from plummeting out of his grip and into the mineshaft below. He crab-walked his way away from the edge, hefting her over the edge of the platform and gently laying her down.  

“Damn, girl,” he huffed while rubbing his burning muscles. “You couldn’t have drifted a few feet left?” He crossed his legs underneath him as he caught his breath, looking down to inspect the strange girl that had fallen from the sky. 

His eyes slowly drifted up to the sleeping girl’s face, and he drew in a sharp breath, because this time he didn’t even have words to express the beauty his eyes beheld. She looked so peaceful as she slept, her plump lips slightly parted as she breathed slowly. Her short brown hair framed her face, which was pale despite her rosy cheeks. He reached out to stroke his knuckles across the soft skin of her cheek in a featherlight touch; she felt cold, and he wondered how far from the sky she’d fallen if the chill of the atmosphere had seeped into her skin. 

“Just where did you come from?” he murmured. She dozed on, her chest rising and falling with unlabored breaths. He grabbed a nearby blanket, inspecting it for grease stains as he unfolded it, before gently laying it over her snoozing form. He pulled back the blanket a little to peer at her strange necklace, but it just gleamed typically in the moonlight, showing no hint of the strange magical power at play just a few moments before. “Strange…” he said aloud before covering her again, tucking the blanket under her chin. 

He still had to close the mine. Grabbing his forgotten meatballs, he got up and piled almost all of them in his mouth by the time he made it down the stairs. His cheeks bulged like a chipmunk as he began cleaning up the mine. Every so often he glanced up at the platform, but the mysterious girl slept on, peacefully unaware that she’d drifted down from the sky like an angel. 

After an hour, he’d finally taken care of all the tasks for closing down the mine. He scampered back up the stairs to find the girl just where he’d left her, though she did hum something unintelligible and shift a little under the blanket. With the way her head was turned, he could see her chubby cheeks shining in the moon. 

“Guess I’ll call you ‘Cheeks’ since I don’t know your name,” he chuckled with a slight smirk. He squatted down, bundling her into his arms; now that it wasn’t unexpected, she was lighter than he realized. He easily held her close to his chest as he stomped down the stairs, carefully tucking her in one arm as he doused the lanterns at the mine entrance and closed the gates behind him. The girl murmured something and buried her nose into his chest, smiling faintly as she breathed in. Heat tinged his ears as she snuggled into him. “Do you have any idea who you’re cuddlin’?” he muttered, but couldn’t help but smile a little. She was kind of cute, for a girl who fell from the sky. 

He eventually shifted so that he was carrying her piggyback, the blanket wrapped around her to shield from the night wind. Her head bobbed gently against his shoulder with each step he took down the long, winding path leading up the hill, where the silhouette of his humble home was barely visible against the starry night sky and cloudy mountains in the distance. As he walked, the moonlight bathed him in its gentle white glow; his shadow walked beside him, with that of the girl wrapped around him like a cocoon. 

He glanced up as the light was suddenly eclipsed to see the shadow of a plane passing over the full moon. He scowled at the bird-like silhouette; it circled the moon like a hawk, spying on the earth below. That’s a bad sign… 

He pushed the girl up on his back before setting off at a quick pace. The mysterious appearance of the girl and that strange biplane in the sky were undoubtedly linked, and so he needed to hide her before the moonlight betrayed them… because the sky could not be trusted.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

[smilesthroughfandoms]

Random List of things I want from episodes of Hazbin Hotel (and Helluva Boss) when it gets greenlit cause we all know it will

Mimzy, Baxter, and Crymini joining the hotel. Think that's a pretty obvious one.

Mimzy and Alastor backstory, I know that info on Mimz being in love with Al is probably outdated but I think it would be fun if they still at least knew each other in life. (Were the friends? How close were they? Did Al fucking kill Mimzy, if so was it an accident or on purpose?) The sky’s the limit here!

On that note: Backstories on how each mortal soul involved in the Hotel ended up in Hell. Especially people who (for now) it’s kinda tricker to imagine why/how they ended up in Hell in the first place. I’m namely thinking of Vaggie and Niffty. Vaggie is a little more believable cause of her apparent reliance on weapons the first sign of trouble. But Niffty is a sweet little sugar bean who I imagine is legally forbidden from saying bad words. 

I’d like to see why Niffty ended up in a Hell cause I'm a sucker for the “Cinnamon Roll is actually Deadly Murder Baby” trope, don't judge me.

Royal Family Backstory! How did Lucifer and Lillith meet? How did they acquire their stations? When was Charlie born and how did this affect hell’s demographics, particularly in the realization that “Shit, some of us can create kids here”

Also, what other biblical figures are canon in Hazbin Hell? We already saw Stolas (though I’m still unsure if he’s the Stolas in bible or this is just, like, an avatar or version of him or something). Is Beezlebub in Hell? 

What about historical figures? Jeffery Dahmer and probably Lizzie Borden (that ax chick from Charlie’s song). Is Hitler in Hell? What about Vlad the Impaler or John Wayne Gacy?

I want Lucifer to be voiced by Weird Al. No, I will not explain or apologize for this wish.

More musical numbers!

Valentino backstory and his relationship to Angel Dust (Ik Vivz said this would be explained more in those comics but c’mon, it’d be a cool episode too).

Rosie, Vox, and other overlord backstories. I also wanna know who that cute overlord girl was with Vox and Val in the opening. She’s so cute and looks fun.

Vaggie and Alastor team up for some reason. I know they don’t really like or trust one another but I think they could play well off each other. Also character building.

Angel Dust and Charlie team up as well. Maybe a subplot to the above. More character development!

Sir Pentious, Cherri Bomb, and the Egg bois join the Hotel because why not and it’d be fun.

Angel gets a boyfriend. Cherri gets a girlfriend. 

Chaggie moments. I want their relationship to be shown in the same way Moxxie and Millie’s relationship was.

Who are the Von Eldritch family? Why to Helsa and Charlie not get along? Who is the son and why did he and Charlie break-up? What did their parents think of this? How does Vaggie (if at all) factor into this?

An episode where they focus on all the background characters in Hell (kinda like that one episode of Gumball).

Angel telling Val where to stick it being framed as him finally, seriously, giving redemption a shot.

Alastor and Vox fight framed like a big anime showdown no I will not apologize for this either, deal with it.

ALASTOR FROWNING!!!!!!

NIffty having a habit of saying really dark, morbid, depressing, horrifying things in the bubbliest, happiest voice in all of Hell. Everyone is kinda unnerved by it.

Husk is an odd combo of Rick Sanches and Grunkle Stan.

Baxter making inventing or “creating” something that destroys something in the Hotel off-screen. It becomes a running gag.

A running gag of Alastor literally shoving anyone out of the way to talk to Charlie.

Mimzy somehow becoming the mom friend despite being terrible at it.

This kind of conversation: Angel Dust: What’re you doing? Crymini: Teenage Rebellion. Angel: Fuq yeah, stick it to the old people!

An episode where Sir Pentious tries to destroy the Hotel and goes whole ham to do it... but no one in the Hotel ever notices his schemes or accidentally thwarts him without even trying,

Tom bitch slapping Katie. He deserves too.

Are there other religions in this universe? Did God and Lucifer inadvertently kick out all the old-timey deities in their rise to power?

Are any of said deities or mythological characters in Hell? Do they like it there? Do they deserve it? Again, sky��s the limit

A crossover with Helluva Boss

Or at least references back and forth.

Blitzo and Stola’s relationship played with more, but not necessarily Blitzo ending up with Stolas. Although if Stolas has good character development I could change my mind

More Moxxie and Millie relationship. They’re so cute!

Baby Loona and Blitzo adopting Loona. That is all.

That bratty kid becoming a sitcom archnemesis for I.M.P. but no one taking it seriously.

Stolas and Blitzo busting their asses off to keep whatever they have a secret from Stolas’s wife. But she knows, she has known for a long time (Blitz did tell her that first time) and she actively encourages is because hey, she’s sleeping with someone else besides her husband. Stolas and Blitzo’s reaction can vary.

Moxxie, Millie, and Loona memeing on Blitzo whenever Stolas calls. Like, yeah, they don’t like Stolas much either, but still, Blitz kinda had it coming.

Stolas gets a musical number. But not a good one. More on the lines of this. 

On that note, maybe something like a Starkid musical episode? C’mon, it fits.

I want Charlie and Stolas to know each other. Not friends but at least they know each other. Royalty and all...

Blitzo family backstory? Who are those ladies in the poster with him? Was he actually in a circus? How did the O become silent in his name?

Stolas’s daughter, Natasha (or Tasha, whatever) shows up. Maybe she’s the spoiled, bratty, daddy’s little girl trope. OR EVEN BETTER: She’s a mix of E.B. from the Netflix Green Eggs and Ham and Louise from Bob’s Burgers. Let her be smart! Let her start working for I.M.P. and run it better than any of them.

Tasha actually has a strong moral compass and actually kinda likes Charlie’s idea and wants to help, but she’s a kid and her dad says she can’t so... (She probably does anyway or Charlie tells Tasha to come back and help when she’s a bit older and has more freedom from her parents.

Blitzo and Angel Dust meeting, tell me that wouldn’t kick ass. (And Stolas meeting Angel Dust and getting “I’m here to steal yo man” vibes from him). Whether Angel and Blitzo hit it off that way is completely arbitrary.

A crossover of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss culminating in the entire crew having to defeat some big baddie and it kicks ass.

More found family tropes in general. That’s the good shit.

That’s all I got for now. Feel free to reblog and add on!

[im-in-every-fandom-cuz-im-alone]

DANNY PHANTOM FAN CAST

Danny Phantom premiered on Nickelodeon in 2004 in a time when life seemed much simpler. All my seven year old self had to worry about was finishing my homework fast enough so I can spend the rest of the day watching cartoons. Now as an adult not much has really changed there's just less book reports and division. The past couple of years have been all about remakes, reboots and nostalgia ploys. It seems Hollywood has found away to make easy money by preying on our desires to relive our childhoods. Well I say if we're going to be emotionally manipulated, why not bring back a cult classic like Danny Phantom.

While coming up with a potential cast I struggled with whether or not to cast actors who actually look 14 or pull a Riverdale and cast 20 somethings who look like abercrombie models. I ultimately chose to do both where in the series would start with 14 year old danny than flashforward to modern day to an older danny and his friends in college. Alternatively we could start with an older cast and periodically flashback to their youth with both storylines coming together in the end to reveal a bigger mystery.

(also I changed the Fentons ethnicity to latinx so this is not race bending)

MAIN CAST

Danny Fenton/Phantom

Isaak Presley / David Castro

It's been a little over a decade since defeating Vlad Plasmius and saving Amity Park. Danny has become a worldwide superhero sensation while also juggling college and spending time with his girlfriend Paulina. Sam and Danny had broken up after sam notices shades of Dark Danny in his behavior. (dont worry they're endgame we just need some drama)

Sam Manson

Sadie Stanley /Kelli Berglund

After the break up Sam refocuses her efforts to converting ectoplasm into sustainable energy. She hopes that with this seemingly Infinite source of energy she can stop the effects of climate change before our Earth is damage any further. Working on her masters in bioengineering as well as providing tactical support for The Banshees, sam may have bitten of more than she can chew.

Tucker Foley

Caleel Harris / Spence Moore II

Mayor Foley when not working on his campaign for governor he is calling every political favor he can to keep Danny's increasingly aggressive tactics from creating an international incident. All while maintaining a secret relationship with his head of security Dash Baxter

Jazz Fenton

Elizabeth Elias/Marianly Tejada

After a falling out with her brother Jazz decides that the world needs a more level headed hero. She forms the Banshees with Valerie Gray, a ghost hunting super team of bad ass ladies. Members include her mother Maddie, Valerie Gray, Dani and occasionally Sam Manson.

Jack Fenton

Ricardo Chavira

Although present in flashbacks Jack Fenton has been missing for three years in present day. This is the inciting incident that leads Danny down a dark path. "Where is Jack Fenton?" would be the overarching mystery of the series.

Maddie Fenton

Felicia Day (honestly who else)

Distraught over her husband's disappearance Maddie grapples with her alchohol addiction and fear of what her son is becoming. Though battling demons of her own this doesn't stop Maddie from hunting down ghost with The Banshees.

Vlad Masters/Plasmius

Julian McMahon (again who else)

Years in the harshness of space gave Vlad plenty of time to reflect and atone for his sins. His return to earth as a pacifist rubs danny the wrong way. With good reason Vlad good guy act is all a ruse to get revenge on the Fenton family. His plans are rendered moot when he realizes that the disappearance of his old friend has already broken the family. (Possible affair with Maddie Fenton you know for the drama)

RECURRING CAST

Valerie Gray

Marsai Martin/Asha Bromfield

Leader of The Banshees shes one of the few ghost hunters who's popularity rivals that of Danny Phantom, often being seen as the batman to his superman. Haunted by the disappearance of Jack Fenton, Valerie is the last person to have seen him alive. With no recollection of what happened that night or how she ended up stranded in the ghost zone will she ever shake off the overwhelming feeling of guilt.

Dash Baxter

Christian Weissmann/Wolfgang Novogratz

Having mellowed out with age Dash now uses his skills has head of security for Amnity Park's Mayor Tucker Foley. After spending year struggling with his sexuality Dash has finally accepted his identity as a gay man, but will his relationship with his boss force him to go back in the proverbial closet.

Paulina Singh

Saara Chaudry/Soma Bhatia

Using her status as Danny Phantoms girlfriend Paulina has become one of the most followed influencers in the world and with her Bachelor's degree in marketing has made herself into a very lucrative brand. Behind the scenes Paulina's being manipulated by an unknown figure to get Intel on Danny and the other Ghost hunters.

(I changed Paulina last name from Sanchez to Singh to match my choice of actress)

As you probably may have noticed through the Snippets of each character description Danny will eventually become the villain of the series. it will be up to the rest of Team Phantom to take him down, but will they be able to save the friend they once knew and loved. If you enjoyed this article please give it a like or comment and if you didn't, comment what you didn't like. I'm also working on an all ghosts cast list as well as a Ben 10 fan cast cuz I have no life.

[2lovesihaveofcomfortandfandoms]

Skinamalink: Chapter 7

Despite being in lockdown, it’s still taken me 4 days to post this somehow. Ah well. It’s up and I’ve also made some edits back the ways as well - nothing major just a bit of fixing the flow.

archiveofourown.org/works/20955815/chapters/55940269

Or here, if you fancy:

Chapter 7: Monster Back In Town

Vlad smiled wide – crooked teeth on show. Shark’s teeth – or a wolf’s. Either way, something carnivorous and hungry. But perhaps what was more terrifying was how genuine Vlad’s smiles were. Dark eyes brightened and laughter lines gathered around them.

           ‘Are you ever going to let me off the hook for that?’ Vlad chuckled.

‘No.’ Edward’s response was solid and definite, leaving little room for argument. Nevertheless, Vlad tried,

‘Be fair, Eddie – I was doing what was best for you.’

           ‘Debatable.’

‘Is it? What do you think Sikes would have done to you if he knew you were my son?’

Edward didn’t need to think – he knew. And it would probably have started with his kneecaps and a crowbar. But he wasn’t about to give Vlad the satisfaction, so Edward only shrugged in response.

           ‘Fine. Sulk if you want to. You’re avoiding the question. How do you feel now that Sikes is awake?’

Where to begin? He had taken to checking over his shoulder more often in the past week. And double-checking that the door was locked. Scrutinising the crowd in the café for familiar but unwelcome faces. But that was natural, wasn’t it? A man who wants to kill you comes back into the picture, you're bound to get a little paranoid. Edward knew the kind of man that Bill Sikes was and what he was capable of. He had witnessed it – even participated in some of it. And don’t all monsters fear the monster who made them? Not that Vlad would understand that – he was a monster all by himself.

           ‘Eddie?’

‘Look, I’m not doing great, but I’m handling it. Dorian’s the one we should be worried about.’

           ‘That’s really why you called me, isn’t it?’ Edward nodded. ‘You think he might start using again?’ Another nod. ‘He’s been clean five years.’

‘Sikes being in a coma helped with that. And honestly, I’d find it hard to blame him if he lapsed. Sometimes... sometimes it was the only thing that could get him through it at all.’

           ‘You didn’t need it.’

‘A lot of the others did. Sikes made your life his or he made it hell – sometimes both. A lot of us were too young to see and do the shit we did – so we found ways of coping.’ And then he said in a whisper, and mostly to himself, ‘We were just kids.’

           ‘I know.’

Vlad cast his mind back to the first time he’s seen Edward. Fifteen. Hair shaggy and black. Green eyes unmistakable, even with the bruising around one of them. The split lip. The slight limp. His face had been so thin and tired that he looked several years older than he was. Now, Vlad didn’t often get sentimental, but Edward had slowly teased it out. And the thought of anyone harming the boy... incited a vicious streak and violent thoughts that surprised even Vlad. And if Sikes did come for his son... well, this time Sikes wouldn’t even make it back to the hospital.

           ‘I should go. I’ve got work to do.’

Vlad squeezed Edward’s shoulder,

‘Alright, Eddie. You know that if you need anything – anything – you come to me.’

           ‘Yeah.’ Edward reached for the car door.

‘Eddie... if things get worse with Dorian – you will let me know, won’t you?’

           ‘Course I will.’

Edward left the car without a backward glance. Vlad watched as he walked back inside the café, closing the door hard behind him. Vlad paused to adjust a cufflink and said with incredible nonchalance,

‘Renfield, I want another man put on the hospital.’

           ‘Yes, sir.’

‘And if I find that any of our dealers are distributing to Mr Gray, they will find themselves on the nasty end of a spike.’

           ‘Of course, sir.’

DS Newcomen was in a growling bastard of a mood. Once again, the news had been delivered that his application for the post of Detective Inspector had been denied. No, no – someone else was being transferred into the unit, they said. A more efficient use of resources, they said. A load of bollocks, Newcomen thought. He’d been a DI once, hadn’t he? He still would be if Sikes hadn’t gone and got his head bashed in a car crash. Eight years ago, he had been on the heels of something great – just a few steps away from getting Sikes behind bars for good. But no bad guy, no case. No case... ten years of his life up in smoke.

           But now... now he had a chance for redemption – a chance to finally make the case and get everything back. And it was getting snatched away again.

           When Newcomen heard that Sikes was awake, he damn near fell out of his seat. He’d rushed straight to the hospital and had stayed there for hours until the doctors had let him in the room. There had always been something about that car crash that didn’t feel right – something that didn’t quite fit – and he was going to get answers.

           Sikes had smiled at him when he stepped inside,

‘Well, well, Inspector... time wasn’t kind to you, was it?’

           ‘It’s Sergeant now. You cost me DI.’

‘Shame. Where’s my fruit?’

           ‘What?’

‘You visit someone in hospital, you’re supposed to bring ‘em fruit.’ Newcomen bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed down the urge to arrest.

           ‘I ain’t here for a visit. I have questions.’

‘I hope it ain’t on current events – I’m a bit spotty there.’

           ‘No. I wanna ask about the car crash.’

‘Car crash?’ Sikes shrugged his shoulders and grinned like a hyena – deliberately evasive. ‘What car crash?’

           ‘Yes. Car crash. That’s how you got here. You know that. Do you remember anything about it?’

‘Nah. Nothing.’

           ‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing. Dashboard must’ve hit the ol’ noggin too hard. Sorry.’ Again, Sikes smiled and shrugged – it wasn’t apologetic, it was smug. It said, you couldn’t touch me then and you can’t touch me now – if you think I’m going to answer your questions, you’re even stupider than I thought you were.

           ‘I’m done here, Sikes. But I’ll be back.’

‘Next time bring fruit. I like strawberries.’

Newcomen had left and had been in a bad mood ever since.

           He flipped through the meticulously arranged binder on his desk – one of three. All on the same subject – the life and crimes of William Sikes. Some might call it obsessive. It was obsessive. But when questioned, Newcomen would always say that to catch a criminal you need to be a little obsessed. A cup of bad coffee from the machine was placed on the desk in front of him.

           ‘Ugh, Skip, again with the binder?’

‘It’s called police work, constable.’

           ‘The new DI’ll be here any moment.’

‘Exactly. I’m gonna give ‘im this and tell ‘im we should take the case.’

           ‘What case, Skip?’

‘Sikes is awake. Which means, after all this time, he can be brought to justice.’

           ‘Skip, I don’t get it. There’s plenty bad guys out there – what is it about Sikes?’

‘How old were you eight years ago?’

           ‘Fourteen.’

‘You’d have been a good age for him.’

The constable shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Newcomen turned his attention back to the binder.

           ‘What... what exactly does that mean?’

‘Sikes liked drafting kids into his crew. He’d find kids in need. Give ‘em a place to stay. Get ‘em fed. Make ‘em feel safe. But now they owe him, so he asks ‘em to do a job – and they feel like they can’t say no. So, they do it. And now he’s got ‘em committing a crime, so he uses it to make ‘em do more. Before long, he’s groomed these kids into criminals and they’re a long way from who they used to be. So it’s not just that Sikes is a bad man who does bad things. He drags other people down with him.’

There was a pause, then the constable said softly,

‘How many kids?’

Newcomen flipped several sections of the binder and spun it around for the constable to see. The page bore a list of names. There were forty-three in total but to look at it, they seemed to go on and on. All forty-three were arranged neatly alphabetically with birthdates – and in the case of an unfortunate handful, death dates. The constable blinked, refusing the tears passage.

           ‘You understand me now?’ The constable nodded. ‘Then get back to work.’

The atmosphere in the café had not improved and everyone felt the tension. Lucy was staying quiet. Justine bore it, even though confusion poked and prodded her. Adam stayed in the kitchen away from it all.

           The winter sun had set two hours ago – still leaving them with another three to go. Lucy rapped her knuckles on the side of the kitchen window.

           ‘Adam?’

‘Yes, Luce?’

Adam ducked down so that his face was visible through the gap.

           ‘Close up the kitchen, love. I’m gonna shut us for the night.’

‘What about the boss?’

           ‘The boss’ll deal with it.’

Adam nodded and gave a small smile. It was one thing to be grateful for – Adam’s smile had never been affected by the scars across his face. It was a good smile – kind and genuine.

           ‘How are you doing with all this, love?’ Adam shrugged.

‘Not gonna lie, Luce, the thought of Sikes being awake... of him being out again... I don’t like it, Luce. Not at all. I mean, sure, the goons who did this,’ Adam gestured towards his face, ‘are long gone – but the man’s a monster... and he’s going to hurt people.’

Lucy reached out and gave Adam’s hand a squeeze. It too was patterned with raised scars.

           ‘It’s gonna be ok.’

Lucy left Justine to start cleaning. When she reached the door of Edward’s office, she knocked softly.

           ‘Ed?’

There was no response. Lucy pushed the door open. For a moment, Lucy thought that Edward must have left. He wasn’t at his desk and his jacket was gone from the back of his chair. A slight shuffling sound drew Lucy to the couch. The leather jacket was serving as a makeshift blanket and his shoes were kicked off so that he could curl his legs up.

           ‘Ed? Ed!’

Edward jolted awake – eyes bleary and hair tousled out of place.

           ‘Jesus, Luce – what the hell?’

‘You’re sleeping?’

           ‘I’m fucking tired. I was woken at five.’ Edward rubbed his eyes. ‘What d’you want?’

‘Wanna close the shop.’

           ‘Shit, is it ten already?’

‘Seven – but it’s quiet. And I don’t think anyone is feeling it tonight.’

Edward didn’t even have the resolve left to contradict her. He started to pull his boots back on.

           ‘Alright. Let’s close it down. Where’s Dorian?’

‘Gone.’ Edward jolted upward.

           ‘What!?’

‘Ed, it’s alright. He left with Basil an hour ago.’ Edward grumbled and sank back down on the couch. ‘Ed, is Dorian using again?’

           ‘No. Maybe... I don’t know.’

Lucy settled herself beside Edward and put an arm around his shoulders. They stayed there for a long moment, silent, in the reassuring company of the other.

           ‘We’re all gonna be here. Whatever happens, Ed. We’ll stick by you.’

‘You shouldn’t.’ Edward shrugged Lucy’s arm away. ‘Sikes is gonna come for me – and when he does, no one can be anywhere near me.’

           ‘He might not, Ed.’

‘I put him in a coma, Luce,’ said Edward, hands running through his hair. ‘He’s coming for me.’

[lornabirdeh]

Generation 1 Recap - the 1880s

Meet the vampire Nicholas Von Drake and his adopted daughter, Violet. Nicholas is a skilled and passionate musician, and he imparts that knowledge on to Violet who becomes an equally talented organ and violin player.

They’ve just moved from Europe to America, and though Nicholas is a wealthy man the new estate they’ve moved into is run-down and dreary. Still, it won’t be long before Violet makes it a home.

Nicholas hires Deidra as their new housekeeper, and she gets the household running smoothly in no time.

Romance abounds, as Violet is courted by a new suitor: William Bartol, son of a local banker.

Nicholas woos a young delivery-man, George...

And Deidra becomes quite ‘close’ with her new friend, Joseph.

The family becomes close friends with their vampiric neighbors, Mr. Vladislaus Straud and the Vatore siblings. Nicholas creates a new coven, uniting the vampires in the area. They even have them over for Christmas, along with William and his parents.

It’s a good thing Nicholas has made some vampire friends, because not all of the local undead are as friendly. One powerful vampire in particular, Ash Graves, strongly disapproves of Nicholas having a relationship with the mortal, George, and harasses them both frequently. Nicholas can never seem to defeat them, so he trains with Vlad and the Vatores to grow in strength.

Drama strikes the household as Deidra discovers she is pregnant... Joseph insists they marry and begins to work toward finding a family home for them. Deidra isn’t sure.

Violet and William’s courtship continues until the time seems right for William to pop the question. Violet accepts and Nicholas gives his blessing!

The two are wed, and become William and Violet Bartol!

Shortly after, Deidra and Joseph have a quick, secret ceremony. Now to tell the boss...

Deidra eventually has to tell the Von Drakes and Bartols. William isn’t very happy about the situation and wants her to move out as soon as possible, but Violet has become close friends with Deidra and ensures she can stay as long as she needs to until Joseph can arrange to house her and the baby. Deidra gives birth her little room in the estate. She names the baby Danielle.

Shortly after Deidra’s daughter is born, Violet gives birth to her own daughter. She and William name her Eleanor Bartol.

It’s finally time for Deidra and her daughter Danielle to move out to live with Joseph. Violet says a tearful goodbye to Deidra, but they’ll remain close friends!

But the family needs a new housekeeper! Nicholas hires another young woman, Juliana, to tend to the family’s needs. Unfortunately for her, she’s quite squeamish and so spends her days pretty miserable!

She’s good company for Violet and helps take care of Eleanor. It’s a good thing too, because Violet is expecting again!

Violet gives birth to a baby boy, named Victor Bartol. She invites Deidra over to see the new baby, and Eleanor gets to meet Danielle! The children grow up good friends.

In the meantime, there’s still vampire activity growing in the town. Ash Graves finds Violet’s friend, Sofia Bjergsen, and takes her in as his vampire progeny. He also attacks Nicholas’s lover, George!

Nicholas gathers his coven to get revenge on Ash, and... it’s a disaster! The discover the new vampire Sofia, who Ash seems to be manipulating with his psychic powers. Lillith tries to subdue Sofia, but accidentally hypnotizes herself. Nicholas challenges Ash to a fight and, despite his training, fails miserably. He doesn’t want to give up, and fights again only to be defeated a second time. The coven retreats in shame.

Eleanor and Victor continue to grow, and Violet is a doting mother. She’s also expecting again!

Nicholas misses the birth of his third grandchild, but something important has come up... the coven is adding a new member, as Lillith is turning her friend Benjamin into a vampire.

Violet has another son, named Edward Bartol. Victor is happy about having a little brother!

As Victor grows up, he becomes friends with Deidra’s daughter Danielle... though their friendship is tumultuous in the early years. His older sister Eleanor organizes a club full of children that come over to play after school, and she makes with several neighborhood children.

Baby Edward grows up into a child, and Violet and William think they may have enough children for now. Birthday parties and holidays are always a huge event at the Bartol house, as all their friends and relatives arrive to celebrate. Nicholas usually stays behind the bar, and Violet entertains with music.

Alas, the vampire Ash has not forgiven Nicholas for raiding his home! He’s captured Nicholas’s lover, George, and imprisoned him beneath his house. Nicholas finds out about this and gathers his coven for one final strike against to rescue George and defeat the antagonistic vampire.

Nicholas’s plan is for Vlad to duel Ash and the Vatore siblings to keep Sofia distracted. This should give Nicholas time to break into Ash’s basement and rescue George. As the morning sun rises, Nicholas attacks Ash with all his rage...

And is victorious! His training and studying finally pay off, and not only did Nicholas defeat Ash, he also removed his vampire powers and turned him back into a mortal.

Nicholas is reunited with George.

And Sofia, free from Ash’s influence, is added to the coven. She and Benjamin get along pretty well.

Edward grows up into a very dorky little boy.

And Eleanor reaches her teen-age birthday! The family puts on a big party as usual. Unfortunately, that night the family cat, Esmeralda, passes away.

Violet had Esmeralda practically since she moved to America, and the sweet cat always kept her company. Violet has her Adult birthday shortly after, but it’s a melancholy affair.

And with the first child of Generation 2 a teen, the 1890s are set to begin! Read more about the Bartol family next time!

[angelaiswriting]

The Assistant (8 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[original picture: pinterest]

✏️ Pairings:

(eventual) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina)

probably other pairings in the future

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01  : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ A/N: a few more details about Y/N’s past have surfaced *smirk* one more reason for Vladimir to be paranoid? Hopefully not ‘cause it’s making me paranoid haha

✏️ Warnings: the usual I think (mentions of death + manipulation. Also mentions of sex as blackmail)

✏️ Word-count: 4,221

REQUESTS ARE OPEN IF YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR YOU 💛

📚 To read the previous chapters, click on the MASTERLIST link in my bio (unfortunately I can’t put links here if I don’t want Tumblr to hide my post. I apologize.)

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TRUTH IN THE DETAILS

“She’s a nice guy,” Sergei was saying. He had moved to sit next to Vladimir and was absentmindedly staring at the drink in his hand.

“She’s a nice… guy?”

“Yeah, you know what I mean.” The man shrugged, gaze scanning the crowd. He burst out laughing when he saw Piotr and Semyon dance like idiots, but then turned his attention back to Vladimir and returned his serious self when he saw his friend hadn’t even smiled. “She could even be Bratva.”

“Bratva?”

To say Vladimir was shocked was an understatement. Bratva was a serious thing, more serious than family, stronger than blood. While Y/N was… Aside from the few things they already knew about her, she was basically a stranger. They didn’t know where she was born, who her family was, where she studied, what she could do. Being siblings, being father and son, relatives–being bound by blood didn’t make you part of the Bratva, for it went far beyond that. And she…

“She could never be that,” he groaned through gritted teeth, staring as said girl danced with Paulina.

She could never be Bratva. The mere thought felt insane. He could understand giving people a chance to prove their worth, but this… This was far beyond what he was willing to do with her. She could become a well-respected coworker, a tolerable neighbor. A friend? Probably. But never… never that.

“Did you know she used to work in Kharkiv?”

Vladimir’s head snapped to the side so fast that pain shot up the back of his neck until it reached his left temple. “Ukraine?”

He had used to have contacts there before his reign in Moscow fell. Pavlichenko was still ruling the city–or at least, that was what he had heard. Vasyl had been a good ally in the months they had worked together, but he had disappeared into thin air when Anatoly and he had been robbed of their power. The man hadn’t lent a hand, hadn’t reached out. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t done anything to help them somehow.

Sergei nodded and after a few seconds of contemplation, he finally downed his drink. “For two years. Now that I think about it, that’s probably why she speaks Russian with a Ukrainian accent…”

“She speaks Russian?”

“Fairly well.” There was another nod of Seriozha’s head before the man grinned. “Petya says she’s even better at it after a couple of drinks.” He shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He should have looked her up. He should have dug into her past to get to know her better, to find her weaknesses to be able to take advantage of them in case he ever needed to do so.

Mistake number one.

The same had happened with Tatyana. He had thought her to simply be a good-looking woman with great tits and an even greater mouth. But that had still been the start of his demise. He had allowed her to sneak her way under his skin, lull him into the safety of her embrace, just to then stab his heart from behind.

How did he end up doing the same mistake with Y/N?

He didn’t know. He had promised himself he’d be more careful so that he wouldn’t make a false move, and yet…

Yet, she spoke Russian and it put any conversation he or his men had ever had at the garage at risk–at a risk so fucking high he couldn’t see its end.

Yet, she had started to slip into his men’s hearts. Two had already fallen, possibly three if he counted Tolik; the others were risking the same fate.

Yet, he hadn’t researched a single thing about her. He had taken her as Wesley had delivered her, he had kept his mouth shut–unless he had to yell at her, that is–and he had allowed her the benefit of the doubt.

“What else do you know about her?” he found himself asking. His gaze had zeroed in on Y/N, who was now drinking at the bar with Paulina and Piotr, and as he watched the three of them talk and laugh, he had to resist the urge to spring to his feet, march down to her and fucking choke her.

Sergei didn’t answer: he restricted himself to shrug his shoulders before he leaned against the back of the two-seat couch in what was the quietest area of the club.

“Did she work for Pavlichenko?”

“She did.” There was a sigh then, but Vladimir didn’t hear it, not above the music and the thundering of blood in his brain.

“Why did she leave?” You didn’t just leave Kharkiv alive if you knew Pavlichenko’s secrets. It didn’t work like that, not under Vasyl’s watch, not with the brutes he had by his side.

“You should… you should ask her.” He had already spilled too much, Sergei. There was no oath behind his silence, he hadn’t promised Y/N anything and she hadn’t forbidden him to talk about it. Sergei Yurchenko was smart enough to know which people to trust with such a piece of information–that was exactly why Vladimir (and consequently, Anatoly) trusted him so much. But a look at his boss’ angered expression and all he wanted to do, was to become invisible.

Vlad snickered, lightening a cigarette despite it being forbidden. “She wouldn’t tell me and you know it. And I want to hear this from you before I get her drunk and see if she told you the truth.”

There was a long silence, then. The two men stared into each other’s eyes as Vladimir smoked and Sergei fidgeted with his fingers. “She apparently helped him hunt his brother down,” the latter eventually said. “She got Mikhail out of Beliy Lebed, somehow brought him back to Kharkiv and… Well, his brother killed him.”

“And after that, he let her go?”

Sergei shrugged. “That’s all I know. From what she told Piotr, that’s what happened.”

Vladimir had his doubts. Vasyl wasn’t that much older than him, but he had always been way more attentive when women were involved, much more than he himself had ever been. Rumor had it, he killed his first wife, the one he had married at eighteen years old, just because she had looked at his brother the wrong way once. And while Y/N was a nice and pretty view, one doesn’t simply let go of such a chirping bird.

“She said anything about how he found her?”

“Vacation. She went to Kiev when she dropped out of college, she was found snooping around a contact Pavlichenko had there, and she was brought to Kharkiv.”

“Sounds like a bunch of lies.”

*

Anatoly’s girlfriend was better than Y/N had expected. She had taken her time to learn a couple of things about her, but since she wasn’t directly involved in his man’s business, she hadn’t snooped too deep. There was already way too much to remember about the Ranskahovs and his men for there to be room for details about someone else, and this was what made tonight good, for she could get to know her.

Paulina was fun–and surprisingly nice. She was better than she had thought a criminal’s woman to be if she had to be honest, and while Anatoly was on a completely different level than the pain in her ass Vladimir was, it was a confusingly weird and nice contrast to how she had feared her to be. The young woman was outgoing and the best company Y/N had had in ages.

“So, I hope Tolya is treating you well at work,” she smiled when Piotr followed a brunette to dance. They both stared as he unabashedly flirted with her, Russian accent even thicker after all the alcohol he had already drunk, and they snickered when he tried to grope her ass.

“Oh, Anatoly is treating me alright,” Y/N answered, finishing her water. She didn’t want to get drunk, not yet–she wanted to convince herself the reason was her will to enjoy the night, for she was under the impression that she wasn’t going to be invited out again anytime soon, but the truth was, she didn’t want to give Vladimir the chance to… To do anything, to be honest, and ‘anything’ was a broad term. “He’s not the problem.”

“Volodya is?”

“He’s… stubborn.”

“Of course he is, he’s a Ranskahov! Anatoly is just better at hiding it, but you should see him at home.” Paulina chuckled, leaning back against the bar and looking for her man with smiling eyes. “When he wants to do something, there’s no way to stop him from doing it.”

“How are they?” Y/N wanted her to talk, to say anything she wanted because she needed a way to not focus on Vladimir staring at her from the secluded corner he and his friends had chosen for them to sit and drink–and probably to hide her corpse better if it ever did come to that.

“I’m sure you already know quite a bit.” There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she stared down at her. And while her gaze wasn’t frightening–nothing could ever be, not after having met Vladimir Ranskahov–, it was still something to worry about. “C’mon, don’t play coy. Tolya told me what you do for them–the same you used to do for… what’s his name? Wesley?” She chuckled then, and had she meant it to be playful or something else, Y/N didn’t know. “You’re a hacker! And that’s a damn interesting thing, don’t feel like you have to hide it from me.”

“I’m not hiding it, it’s just not something you go yelling around in a public space.” She smiled, too, and in the attempt to avoid her burning stare, she turned in Vladimir’s direction once again. “And it’s like… You know, like spilling the truth after you’ve been snooping around.”

Luckily enough, though, Vlad wasn’t looking at her, focused as he was on something Sergei’s was saying.

“Let’s do a game, then.” Paulina was smoothing her hands against the black denim of her jeans. “For every detail I get right, you tell me something you know about me–just me, no one else involved.”

Y/N didn’t turn her head, she simply glanced at the Pole next to her from the corner of her eye and gulped. There was something in her–something in the delicate features of her face, in the light brown hair turned blonde under the lights of the club, something in the way her jeans hugged her legs and in the way Anatoly’s leather jacket sagged on her shoulders that… It was like standing next to a snake, hoping it wouldn’t feel threatened so as not to get bitten.

She didn’t want to think like that, she had just met her and being the only woman closely tied to the Ranskahovs’ business, she had hoped they could bond somehow, but… The feeling that Paulina was just like James was there, at the back of her throat, and she had to do her damndest to swallow and avoid gagging.

“Okay,” she agreed after a few more minutes, slowly nodding her head up and down, turning her attention to Piotr in the hopes he’d come to her rescue.

“Great! Let’s start with something easy, then.” Paulina’s excitement glimmered in her eyes when she turned towards her and there was something in her smirk that had a shiver run down her spine. “Your father was a criminal. He killed the right man and got his place. He killed the wrong man and lost everything, forced you and your mommy to move to the east coast.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was still unsettling. “How do you-”

But Paulina interrupted her, tutting at her and lifting her chin with a smile. “I uncover a secret, you do the same.”

Y/N swallowed hard. Suddenly, her mouth had gone dry, her throat was threatening to close up. She wiggled on her stool, smiled at an approaching guy just for that smile to fade soon after when he passed her to go to the restroom.

Sure, her past wasn’t a secret, but it was still something she wasn’t going to talk about–she never had with anyone and she probably never will in the future. And to have someone she barely knew–someone she hadn’t spent enough time studying–come up with part of her father’s story was… unexpected. And unwelcome.

Probably that was how Vladimir felt, she reasoned. And why he despised her so much.

But the suddenness of that revelation froze her. And the revelation wasn’t just that Paulina knew something about her dad, but that she–or someone else for her–had spent time searching her past and her story and…

And she couldn’t come up with anything. Her brain had stopped working and the only image she could think of–but not delete–was her father’s bloodied face that night.

“Come on, just tell me the basics,” Paulina pressed her, nudging her shoulder with hers.

“You are…” Y/N stopped, tongue sleepy and heavy. “You worked for the United Nations. In France.”

“That’s right. But I had to stop and resign. I mean, being in a relationship with a criminal and all… It felt like cheating.”

Y/N chuckled, more out of nervousness than of amusement. She wanted Vladimir to be there, to yell at her, even to manhandle her because she kept on bugging him about doing things her way so that she didn’t have to continue that game.

“Someone else found out about your past,” were the woman’s next words, “and proposed a way for you to buy his silence.”

What had happened then wasn’t exactly a secret either. Some people at work had found out and while their fear had been far too great for them to go around talking about it, they still found a way to spread some vague rumor.

“Sex is the currency of the weak,” Paulina whispered in her ear. “And people like James Wesley are particularly weak. They have a façade of stone, but there’s no lion behind it, just a snake.”

The woman’s lips brushed against her earlobe as she spoke, aggravating everything. Scary wasn’t the fact that she somehow knew. It was the thought that she could use those things against her–or that the Russians could use them. And it wasn’t some ‘it’s gonna get you killed’ secret, for the truth laid in the details Paulina didn’t know, in the little things she had left behind, in the little things she had done to the people that had ended her family–right when her story had started. She had tipped off Pavlichenko in Ukraine, sold information to Kiev, and she was looking for the best and safest way to do the same to Fisk.

The Russians… They were just a setback, something that slowed her down. They had done nothing to her and she had done nothing to them–there was no reason for a war to start. The only problem was that Vladimir didn’t trust her and his paranoid caution could cause even more trouble than it was needed.

“He’s still coming back for more, isn’t he?”

She didn’t answer. It was clear that Paulina had her ways to find out part of the truth, most of all when the safety of the people she loved was involved.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Not your business, I can handle my business pretty well.” She hadn’t meant for her reply to come out that harsh, but she still hoped the other changed the subject of the conversation or shut up altogether.

“I just want to help you,” Paulina retorted. She had grabbed her shoulder and had turned her so that they were face to face. “If there’s someone threatening you, they’re threatening Anatoly and Vladimir’s business and lives, too.”

“Wesley won’t do anything, our employer wouldn’t-”

“Your employers are the Ranskahovs now. Forget about your old job, you’re with us now.”

“I appreciate your interest, but-”

“God, Tolya was right!” Paulina groaned, massaging her forehead with index and middle fingers. “You’re just as stubborn as Vladimir.”

It stung like an insult, even if Y/N knew the other was just stating the truth–or, rather, her and Anatoly’s truth. And yeah, she could be stubborn, but not Vladimir-stubborn. This was just her private life and what happened behind its doors was her business–hers and no one else’s. “I’ll let you know if I ever need any help, okay?”

And she wasn’t going to do that, not even if her own life was at stake, for asking for help meant confessing, and confessing meant risking what her father had faced when things went to shit. And she didn’t want her things to go to shit. She was still young and wanted to live a long, undisturbed life once the people that had to die were dead.

“On another note, how are things with Vladimir going at work?” The tone of her voice had already changed and was now lighter. Even the look in her eyes wasn’t the same as before: it was friendly now and slowly, the more she stared at her, the more her fear melted away.

“They’re not going.”

Paulina chuckled and was about to say something when she spotted Anatoly calling for her with a gesture of the hand. “Remember what I know. See you later,” were her last words before she left her alone.

She should have definitely spent more time studying that woman.

*

Anatoly had told him to go get Y/N drunk and Vladimir had accepted–against his will and his better judgment, but he had accepted. There was nothing else he could do, not when one word from Paulina could force him to bend down. So, he waited for his brother to sit down with his woman before he stood up and made his way towards the bar.

He wanted it to be quick and sudden like the removal of a band-aid–make her drink, hope his mother’s words about alcohol were a universal truth even on the other side of the world, and take mental notes of what she told him. It sounded so simple and yet, he knew she wasn’t going to give in so easily. She was just as stubborn as he was, head carved out of stone.

But he wanted to feel safe, to stop checking his own back. And he wanted his men to be safe, too: they could become friends with her all they wanted, they could do anything they wished to and with her, but she had no right to bend and manipulate Sergei like that.

“Vodka,” he ordered when he sat on the stool previously taken by Paulina. “One for her,” he added, pointing at Y/N with a tilt of his head.

He was tired. All of a sudden, the weight of that day–of the seven previous days, if he wanted to be that precise–had crashed down onto his shoulders and the thought of having to make her confess felt like a nightmare. She was a nightmare, plaguing his every waking thought.

“I’ve already drunk enough, but thank you.”

The politeness in her smile was as fake as the benefit of the doubt he had given her, and they both knew it. However, none of them seemed to care. They didn’t need to be friends to understand each other because they weren’t that different, after all.

“Is rude to refuse.” He pushed a shot under her nose and glared at her until she picked the glass between rigid fingers. “Drink.”

“Or what?”

His hand gripped her knee and he pressed closer to her. She smelled nice, he noticed. He didn’t know what it was, but it was the same perfume that had followed his mother around the house when he had been a kid–it had always meant safety back then, and almost unwillingly, he found himself hoping it still meant that. “I said, drink.”

She shivered when his nose brushed against the shell of her ear and he felt that.

“Now you.” Her voice trembled and he had to force himself not to grin–or grimace. It was just one drink, after all, nothing that could get him even remotely tipsy. He needed far more than a shot of vodka to lose himself, but he still didn’t want to run the risk.

He lifted his glass in a cheering gesture before he drank the burning liquor, eyes fixed on hers. He didn’t break that eye contact when he put the shot back down onto the bar and not even when the bartender refilled them–it had all been planned and already generously paid for.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she nodded after a while, lowering her gaze on the shot in front of her. Her fingers traced its rim, her nails slightly dipped into the vodka.

“Oh, da?”

“You want to know stuff about me, see if you can trust me or if I’m trying to ruin you.” That was probably why Paulina had come up with that short-lived game: either to prepare her for Vladimir’s attempt or to find out more about her. “There’s no need to get me drunk.”

“Alcohol does not lie,” he retorted, forcing her to drink her shot with a glance. “But you can, if you are sober.”

“Faith means trusting someone even when they’re sober.”

“I don’t want to run more risks.”

“I warned you Wesley was waiting for me last week. I could have just kept my mouth shut so that he could find out where you live. You still decided not to listen to me, and that’s okay, I mean, it’s your business. But I warned you, expecting nothing in return.”

She was right and he knew it. The problem was, he was scared. He was fucking terrified of putting his life in this girl’s hands for her to do what she pleased with it. His natural gift with people had abandoned him after Tatyana’s betrayal and now he never knew how to act, what to do, what to say.

And it didn’t matter that she might be on the verge of telling him the truth, because that scared him way more than her lies. It could be a trap: get him to trust her just to then get him killed–him and Tolya and Seriozha and Petya and everyone else. He had been the cause of the deaths of many of his friends and there was no way he was going to risk that again.

That was the reason why whatever she said was going to meet his brick wall.

“Maybe you just wanted to tell him things you shouldn’t have.” He wasn’t… He wasn’t going to trust her. He could, of course: he could open up enough to let her in and he could be honest with her, think of her the way Sergei or even Piotr thought of her, but… But he didn’t want to let anyone down. Not again.

Tolik wants to give her second chance.

And so he was battled between giving her just that like his brother wanted and keep on doing it his way, closing her out, coming up with obstacles to place between him and her to stop her from getting closer–and to stop himself from getting closer to her.

“I would have already done that, Vladimir.”

She was tired–was it because of the long day or because of his behavior, Vladimir would never know. And against his better judgment, he almost stretched his hand out to touch her furrowed brow, trace its line down to her cheekbone and then down to her lips. Had she looked different, he probably would have done that. But she had Tatyana’s tired grimace, the same tilt in her chin as she looked up at the ceiling to exhale loudly from her nose.

“Who guarantees me this?”

“I guess this is what trusting people means, just like I trusted you not to shoot me when you and your brother killed the Hungarians.”

He stared at her, tried to tear Tanya from her features. He focused on the shape of her lips, tried to tell himself they weren’t like Tatyana’s. And the more he stared, the more details he noticed, like that faint scar just above her upper lip.

The next thought passed his mind like a meteor: he wanted to kiss it.

“You tell me what you did for Pavlichenko in Kharkiv and I will think about it.”

She smirked. “If you know about Pavlichenko, it means you already know what I did for him.”

“I want you to tell me truth. You might have lied to Piotr.”

“I didn’t lie,” she shrugged and downed his untouched drink. “And I know that telling you about Ukraine won’t fix anything between us. But I can tell you something else, something I never told anyone.”

“How will I know if you lie?”

“Jesus, Vladimir! I’m doing my best here, but you have to meet me halfway there!”

He groaned and she stared until he nodded in defeat. “Fine. What is it?”

“The reason why I went to Ukraine in the first place,” she smirked.

 *

Feedback? Suggestions? Predictions? Hopefully this is where Vlad’s paranoia stops and he opens up a tiiinyyy bit, enough to be civil with me Y/N.

Btw, I’m really enjoying writing this story. I hope you’re enjoying reading it! 💛

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask. Same goes for ‘Bratva’)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892  @mblaqgi

The Assistant: @flowers-in-your-hayr

Bratva (people not on the lists but that might still be interested): @sweetvengeancee@theranskahovs @brobachev @kind-wolf