#and her memories started to go away and SHE became the scatterbrained one
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oughhhh... what if... kinger and queenie were married before they arrived in the circus and once their memories started degrading, each other was all they had left of their life before the circus... or what if they were dating before and they got married in the circus... them being able to hold on even though everything felt pointless because of each other... also i know caine would have had a field day with a wedding in the circus. WHAT IF... queenie was the one who told kinger that things wouldn't be pointless as long as they had each other, and as long as he had people who cared about him.. and he passed that message along to pomni .. something something people living on in the little kindnesses that impact others, living on in memories and in legacy....
#i feel like early in his days in the circus kinger may have been a little like pomni-- scared and upset and jittery#maybe a little more scatterbrained than her#and maybe. maybe. queenie was his version of ragatha- personally i think the two of them arrived at the same time#but she was the one checking in on him and trying to stay positive even though it was difficult for her to stay optimistic at the time#not necessarily a buttonblossom post (although i do think it's a cute ship)#i feel like queenie could have been like a. rock. or a sort of anchor-like figure? not necessarily a leader but a source of support#if kinger was (not as much as he is now with his memory problems but at least somewhat) the scatterbrained one#then she could be the levelheaded one? balance each other out? i think he could have looked up to her too#but she would still be a fun person. i think one way she coped and helped kinger cope was with distractions (ex. bug collection)#so if she was smart creative fun and a source of support then it would hurt all the more when she started abstracting#and her memories started to go away and SHE became the scatterbrained one#and then kinger tried to emulate her when comforting her and others#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc kinger#tadc queenie#tadc checkmates#epilogue speaks
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Nothing Good Ever Happens at a NYE Party
Chapter Two of “You Know I’m No Good”
Chapter Warnings - Addiction mention, cursing
Pairing - Elliot (Euphoria) x OC
Link to Chapter One - 1
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Look, I have a terrible memory problem. I did intend to text Jules, but I never did. Well, “never” refers to the week leading up to when I happened to stumble across her at my next appointment with Dr. Robles. I was leaving when I saw her get out of a car and make her way towards the building. The note she had left suddenly came to mind, guilt washing over me once I realized I had ghosted her. We met halfway, a small smile on her face. “Hey, stranger.” Jules said quietly. I offered her an apologetic smile and said, “I’m so sorry, Jules. I completely forgot to reach out. I… I’m kinda fucking scatterbrained.” I laughed awkwardly. Jules giggled and shook her head to dismiss my worries. “Hey, it’s fine, I get it. Are you heading in?” I sighed and shook my head, “No, I just finished up. I assume you’re heading in?” A sly grin started to form on Jules’ face. “Not anymore.” “What? Why?” Jules took my hand and started to lead me away from the building, skipping a little. “Why? Because you and I are going to hang out. Is anyone at your house?” “Oh, uhm, no, my mom’s at work.” I smiled a little to myself, tugging us gently to reroute us to my car. “We can go to my place for sure. Are you hungry? We can stop somewhere.” Jules squealed with excitement as we got into the car. “I feel like we are going to be very good friends.” It was proven to be true. After that we picked up Chinese food and went to my house. I became aware of how bare my new house was, a little embarrassed when I gave her a quick tour. I became even more embarrassed when we ended up in my room, which so far only consisted of my bed and… that’s all. It was my bed, surrounded by stacks of boxes with all my things in them. We stood in the doorway for a moment as I mentally cursed myself for not having started unpacking. Then again, I didn’t think I’d be having anyone over soon. It was actually Jules who suggested we unpack and decorate. It was a nice idea considering the fact I deeply trusted Jules’ taste, knowing she might be the person of all people to help me find my feng shui. We ate then got to unpacking and setting up my room, talking and talking and finding out almost everything about each other. She didn’t hold back and, for once, neither did I. It was so easy with Jules, unlike any other friend I had ever had before. We texted all the time, everyday, called a lot, facetimed for hours, and went to each other's houses whenever we could. It felt like we were making years of memories but in reality it was only a little over a week of being friends. Jules and I took a short road trip to the next city, where the nearest big mall was. The break was almost over and Jules and I were shopping for clothes for the new semester. She asked me if I was nervous to start a new school and I lied and said no. We were perusing through racks of clothing when Jules brought up a party that she was going to tonight with some of her friends. She wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively and implied I should go. I rolled my eyes and pretended to be interested in the dress in my hands. “Hmm… I’m not sure I’m good at partying.” “Oh, Anna!” Jules looked at me with pleading puppy dog eyes. “I think it would be so much fun! And you can meet some of the people we go to school with.” She came over to me and put her arms around me, raising a hand to tickle under my chin. “Please? Pleeeaaseee?” “Okay… fine, fine! I surrender!” I squealed as I tried to wriggle out of her grasp. “I will go to this party, for you.” Jules stopped her tickling assault so that she could squeeze me against her. “Ah, yes! Great!” She let me go and looked at the dress in my hands. “Hmm, maybe you can wear this?” I groaned and rolled my eyes, “I have to wear a dress?” “No, silly…” Jules countered playfully. “But you should dress up. Or at least, hot. Show off those curves, girl!” “Jules, I am as flat as an ironing board.” “Bitch, me too!” I didn’t buy the dress. Instead, we stopped by Jules’ house to get her outfit and makeup for tonight then made our way to my house so Jules could play Barbie with me. It was actually shocking how fast she scanned through my closet (organized thanks to her) and found me a good outfit. We ate some leftovers then changed, Jules insisted that we needed to hurry even though the party wasn’t for hours; she wanted us to stop by one of her friend’s houses before the party so we could show up as a group. Jules let me hop on the back of her bike, our heels in the basket. I was a bit nervous to meet Jules' friends, even though she assured me they were cool. I finally resigned, because if they were friends of Jules. I trusted her judgment. We arrived in a slightly more run down, smaller part of town. Jules led me to the door and knocked, her hand holding onto mine. A short girl with sharp cat eye makeup opened the door, a grin exploding onto her face once she saw Jules. “Glad you’re here!” the girl said, bringing Jules in for a hug. She looked me up and down and gave me a small nod. “And who’s your friend?” I held my hand out to her. “Uh, Anna Kipleski. I’m new here.” The girl shook my hand slowly and said, “I’m Maddy. Bitch, where did you get that dress? It’s amazing!” She led me into the house, Jules following behind. It reminded me so much of the house my mom and I had lived in before we moved here. It was small, dimly lit, filled with knick-knacks and dingy furniture. I smiled a little, remembering the memories I had made in that house. We entered Maddy’s room where a girl with short brown hair and glasses was lounging on the bed. I stood awkwardly in the doorway as Maddy said, “Kat, this is Anna. She’s new. Anna, this is Kat.” We exchanged a small wave. Kat was already pretty dressed up but Maddy still had a while to get ready. Jules secretly shot me a text, Jules: Maddy takes forever to get ready, that’s why we came early XD
Which explained a lot. When she was done it was around 9:00 and we were taking Maddy’s car. Jules and I crawled in the back and Jules sat in the middle seat, leaning her head on my shoulder as Maddy drove. I found my face warm, blushing at the heaviness of her skin on mine. Maddy and Kat were super nice, asking me questions about myself, my old town, etc. We heard the party before we saw it; the boom of the bass reverberating down the block. I had been to a few parties in my old town, but nothing like this. It wasn’t even a party, it was like the Met Gala, the event of the season. People everywhere. Surprisingly, Maddy found a good place to park and I felt the buzz of excitement as we approached the front door. When we managed to squeeze inside, the house was packed with people, despite it clearly being a large space. I felt a hand squeeze mine and I looked down to see a pale, slender hand in mine. I grinned. Jules. “Okay bitches, imma go get us drinks. Brb.” Maddy yelled over the loud boom of the music. She scurried off, quickly getting lost amongst the crowd. Jules pulled me and Kat along to the makeshift dance floor, quickly pushing herself against me with a look on her face that said ‘dance’. So I did. I giggled and moved with the music, also moving quite closely against Jules. Maddy showed up sometime later, cleverly balancing several drinks in her arms. We each took a drink and brought our red solo cups together, yelling cheers before throwing them back. The alcohol was cheap but worked its way into my system quickly, making me feel warm. We danced together for a while longer before Maddy announced she had to leave to pee. Kat gave us a small smile before saying something about an “Ethan” before making her exit, leaving Jules and I alone. “I’m glad you’re here!” Jules shouted over the music. “I giggled and yelled back, “Me too! This is fun!” It didn’t take long before I felt the need to pee, my cup now empty. I gently took Jules wrist, pulling her close, and said in her ear, “I’m gonna find a bathroom. Will you be okay?” I couldn’t miss the way Jules’ smile fell a bit. She nodded and replied, “Yeah, no problem! I’ll go find Kat or something, text me when you wanna find each other again, okay?” I agreed and set off to find the nearest bathroom. I mentally prayed that I wouldn’t open the door to a room with someone fucking in it. “Who the fuck lives in this house?” It was like a goddamn Labyrinth. I felt the alcohol rushing to my head - maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have drank that fast when I hadn’t had alcohol in a hot minute. I put my hand on a nearby doorknob for stability. My hand slipped and the knob turned, causing me to stumble into the room. I whirled around and my eyes landed on a boy. A very cute boy. A boy, who was fumbling with something on top of a washing machine. He cleared his throat and put his arm out, trying to conceal whatever was on the washer. “Is that drugs?” I questioned even though I already knew the answer. He stuttered out the beginning of an excuse before shaking his head. “Uh, yeah.” he resigned. My tongue was in my cheek, looking him up and down. After a moment I grinned and said, “Hey, wanna make out?” One of the boy’s eyebrows quirked up. “Uh… what?” I shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. “Well, this party is uber lame, and there’s nothing better to do…” The boy’s face slowly scrunched up into a smile. “I mean… yeah, yeah, okay.” I kicked the door to the small room closed with the heel of my foot. “Great!” I made my way over to the boy, looking down at the small line of powder on the top of the washer. I shook my head in amusement and said, “You know, that stuff will kill you.” The boy moved a step closer, swiping the drugs onto the floor with the sleeve of his sweater. “Uh, you know what else gets people killed? Hooking up with random people at boring parties.” He gently took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb against one of my fingers. I shook my head and giggled. “I have always been told I’m somewhat of a hypocrite. Anyways. Shut up and kiss me.” I started to move towards him, gently putting a hand on his chest to bring him close. My nose bumped against his and I let out a small giggle. “Elliot.” he whispered to me, his lips hovering over mine. “Huh?” Elliot chuckled and pulled away from my face a little. “My name. It’s Elliot. I figured it’s important for us to know each other’s names before we-” “Is it?” I teased back. Elliot’s hands had placed themselves on my hips, holding me against him. We met each others’ eyes and he grinned, leaning his forehead against mine. “Hmm… I guess it’s not too important right now.” I hummed and brought my lips to his. Elliot’s lips were softer than the lips of any other guy I had ever kissed before. My stomach was twisting with excitement and the smoky taste of weed that lingered in his mouth only added to my good mood. He was an excellent kisser, not aggressive or overly-horny, just soft, lazy kisses that let me melt away from the Earth. Everything faded away, the world going silent as I found myself becoming entirely wrapped up in the sensation of… him. We were forced to stop by the need for air, both of our chests heaving when we pulled apart. We stayed close enough to share a breath, reluctantly bringing ourselves back to reality. “Wow… that was…” he started. He chuckled a little as the sentence trailed off. Elliot leaned in for another kiss but I put my hand on his chest to gently stop him. I grinned and said, “I need to go.” Elliot’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Oh, you gotta go?” He spoke slowly, trying to press his lips against mine again. I brought my hand up to his face, patting it gently. “Yep, gotta go find a friend. This was fun though!” Before I could turn away, Elliot held on to my hand, keeping me in place. “Hey… can I see you again?” I giggled and held his hand while pulling away. We were connected by far apart, his eyes longing to keep the moment going. I gave him a soft smile before letting his hand drop, “I wouldn’t count on it, Elliot.” I turned away from him and opened the door, scooting myself out of the room. I smiled to myself after I had closed the door. Time to find Jules.
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Saiki K. - A list of Never-Adapted Chapters
As stated, a list and brief kinda long summery of the chapters never adapted into the anime. Only a few have good reasons aside from time though. (Also a list of reasons for anime only viewers to give the manga a read *cough*)
Warning: I spoil every single one of these chapters. So if you’re lazy and only want to read the non adapted chapters, go ahead and just read the chapter number/name, and avoid the summery. You will be missing a HUGE amount of unadapted scenes if you don’t read the whole manga though, which are present in nearly every chapter, adapted or not. They were likely cut for time like a lot of the chapters, but many add depth and important character development, and actually explain certain dynamics between characters present that were glossed over in the anime.
Reblogs appreciated...this took me so long qwq
Under the cut for sheer length
Chapter 0.1 “Telepathy”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s telepathic abilities, and the plot revolves around him stopping his class from believing Nendo stole everybody's wallets.
Chapter 0.2 “Telekinesis”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s telekinetic abilities, and the plot revolves around Nendo “saving” him from being bullied, and him realizing that Nendo actually isn’t a delinquent, and is a good friend. Interestingly, Saiki is able to hear Nendo’s thoughts during this chapter, in which he is internally telling Saiki to run away while he takes the attack from the bullies.
Chapter 0.4 “Precognition”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s precognitive abilities (are you noticing a theme among the volume zero chapters?), and the plot revolves around him receiving a precognition about Nendo’s supposed funeral. Saiki follows Nendo around all day as they hang out in preparation of his date, and it’s (obviously) revealed the girl did it as a dare. Saiki uses his teleportation to apport a bowling ball Nendo had bought with the girl’s phone, and sends a message telling Nendo that she was simply busy and had to miss the date. The two go to Nendo’s house and it’s revealed the memorial was for Nendo’s already deceased dad, not him.
Chapter 0.5 “Teleportation”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s ability to teleport/apport, and the plot revolves around Chouno attempting a magic show with a new assistant, after firing Ike-san (still homeless at the time) for making mistakes. His assistant, however, is purposely sabotaging him. Part way through, Ike-san shows up and thinks about how he should’ve been a better assistant, and his makeover is revealed. Near the end of the show a trick is attempted to where Chouno’s assistant is meant to teleport out of a box, but of course she does nothing. It is noticed that her and Ike-san have swapped places, due to Saiki apporting the two of them, and Chouno and Ike-san reunite.
Chapter 0.6 “Clairvoyance”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s clairvoyant abilities, and the plot revolves around Kaido accidently spotting Saiki teleporting from a distance, and trying to find out who it was. Unfortunately, the drawing he is using to ask around for the “Trickster” looks nothing like Saiki. At the end of the chapter, Saiki appears before Kaido with the face of his crude drawing, and teleports out, to appease him. (Interesting tidbit about this chapter is that the mysterious stranger from the birthday arc appears in the class while Saiki uses his clairvoyance to watch Kaido. He also appears in the background of chapter 41 (the telepathy silencer movie chapter), but not in the anime equivalent.)
Chapter 0.7 “Astral Projection”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s ability to astral project, and the plot revolves around Saiki using telekinesis to deflect a stray baseball from hitting him, but it instead hits Nendo, subsequently knocking him out right before he was due to play in a baseball game. Thus, Saiki uses astral projection to take over Nendo’s body and play in the baseball game for him.
Chapter 8 “ Fighting for a RePSIval!”: Saiki and Nendo end up stopping a failing musician from jumping off a roof due to his enormous debt. Nendo gets the idea to help the man gain money by selling the CDS of his music he had ordered in bulk, which were the result of the debt, due to them not selling. He performs live in the park, and Saiki accidently uses his telepathy to project the song to everyone in the are, causing them to believe it became stuck in their heads due to how good it was.
Chapter 00 “Special One-Shot: The DiPSIster of Psychic Saiki Kusuo”: This chapter falls in-between 8 and 9. It is a collection of oneshots set in a slightly different universe (likely a pilot or a very early storyline) in which it details information over several of Saiki’s powers, much like Volume 0.
Chapter 32 “ExPSIbition! Jump Festa”: Saiki goes out to Jump Festa to purchase merchandise due to an errand from his mom. There he meets Kaido, and the whole chapter’s gag is subtle advertisement for Jump Festa. The pair run into a crying child, who had lost his mom. He smartly refuses to go with Kaido to a help desk due to stranger danger, but Kaido comes back in his cosplay and since the kid vaguely recognizes him after he “proves” he really is that character (with Saiki’s help), the kid is returned to his mom.
Chapter 73 “PubliPSIzing the Popularity Contest Results!“: Saiki ends up in an alternate universe to where people’s popularity is shifted. (The chapter is based on the popularity poll that was held, hence that being the joke). Saiki is the most popular in this world, and he is bombarded with people until he hides away in the bathroom and transforms into Kuriko. This allows the original world’s Saiki to return, and he briefly explains why the world is this way, before sending Saiki, as Kuriko, back.
Chapter 88 “Press Play! A "Making Of" PSItory”: Saiki finishes watching a movie, and he remarks about how he loved it due to the quality of the acting and would like to visit the place it was filmed. Shortly after, he teleports to the location while returning the movie. He then decides to use his psychometry to see how the movie was filmed, and slowly it is revealed that the actors themselves were quite bad, especially the child star who Saiki believed to be a very good actor. The reason the movie was so good is revealed to be because the scenes in the movie were filmed as a supposed to be “behind the scenes”, and those were put in place instead of the actual filmed scenes.
Chapter 95 “The PSInnacle of the Golden Age of Heroes! A Fun Party Game”: Kaidou, Nendo, and Kuboyasu visit Saiki’s house the same day the game “J-Stars Victory Vs” was supposed to be arriving for him. A package arrives at the door, but instead of J-Stars, it is “C-Heroes Vale Tudo Battle”, a ripoff game by Saiki’s dad’s manga company. Kaido, Nendo, and Kuboyasu are all enamored by the game and reveal that they love Cognac, the magazine the game is for, and they all play the game. At the end of the chapter, the actual wanted game arrives, and the trio are just as excited and want to play that instead.
Chapter 102 “The Achromatic InviPSIble Boy”: (My personal favorite chapter) Saiki turns himself invisible to avoid running into his friends on the way to school, and winds up inside an empty storage room in order to wait for his invisibility to wear off. Unfortunately, a group of girls decided to use this room to change due to the peeping tom that’s been rumored around the campus. He hides by gripping onto the ceiling and waiting for them to leave, but when his invisibility is about to wear off the girls have still not left. After some time spent dodging and hiding, the door is opened by Saiki, revealing the actual peeping tom. The girls chase after him and Saiki uses the opportunity to escape.
Chapter 118 “The DiPSIster of the Rental Video Store”: Saiki, due to being bored, decides to go to a rental movie store to rent a movie to watch. Unfortunately, the current cashier is one that Saiki doesn’t favor very much, because she is high on his list for potential spoilers, but he remarks that at least the manager, a man who has seen nearly every movie, isn’t there. But (lmao), the manager switches positions with the cashier shortly after. Saiki then runs into Takahashi, who is purchasing pornography. In exchange for not telling the school about this, Saiki asks Takahashi to check out his movies for him. Takahashi gets caught like the dumbass he is and the plan is ruined.
Chapter 133 “An ExPSIlent Wife and Mother!? Mom's Class Reunion”: Saiki starts the chapter off by explaining how his mother is scatterbrained, and showing examples of it. Kurumi than remarks that she is going to her class reunion, which is being held in the city near her this year instead of way out in the country, meaning she can attend. When she arrives she starts getting reintroduced to her classmates who she hasn’t seen in 20 years, and talking about how different they are. Only one of the attendees, however, is actually from her class, and he reveals that the whole event is a plan to get closer to Kurumi, in order to use her for her eldest son’s wealth. Saiki, who had come to watch after having a bad feeling about the event, follows him into the bathroom and threatens him to stay away from his mom. Before he can finish, Kurumi accidently stumbles into the men’s bathroom, and her former classmate claims that her youngest son had attacked him unprovoked. Kurumi attacks the man, claiming her son would never do such a thing.
Chapter 134 “Kaidou and Kuboyasu's PSIpicions”: (The BEST Chapter) Kaidou and Kuboyasu are talking near their lockers about how neither of them got any chocolate for valentines day, and the conversation strays off to talking about Hairo. The two remark that they never see him talking to or dating girls, despite his popularity, and joke that he must be gay. The two are later found following Hairo, and bring up incidents that add to their growing suspicion. They soon find Hairo talking to Nendo, and begging the latter to join his club, stating that it has to be him. The conversation is normal, but Kaidou and Kuboyasu keep mistaking parts of it as being dirty. They watch Nendo and Hairo have a sumo match, and confront him after it, stating that it’s fine if he his gay, they were just curious. Hairo laughs it off and says he isn’t, but after another risque seeming scene (including an omake where Hairo and Nendo remark about keeping their relationship secret and how Hairo is willing to come out for him 🤔 ) the duo agree to stop thinking about it.
Chapter 165 “Train DiPSIster”: Saiki decides to take the train to a coffee shop 30 minutes away from his house instead of teleporting, claiming coffee jelly tastes much more satisfying if there is effort put into travelling there...though he does plan to teleport home. He explains how annoying train rides are for him, due to his telepathy, and how if someone playing music loudly is annoying for you, how much worse it is to listen everyone complain about said music. Over the course of the trip, Saiki begins to get anxious due to the crowds and his telepathy, and is relieved when several people get off. Unfortunately, he receives a precognition about the train stopping, and ends up saving a man from jumping in front of the train. Saiki winds up teleporting to the coffee shop.
Chapters 176 & 177 “PSIolving the Biggest Riddle!”: Saiki shrinks himself to retrieve his mother’s wedding band that had fallen down a drain, and when he jumps down, he remarks that the sink had become essentially 80 meters tall due to his height. He lays down in his bed afterwards, deciding to take a nap while he returns to normal size. When he wakes up however, he is much taller than normal. Due to the fact his body keeps growing, to avoid destroying the house anymore, Saiki teleports away to an island to hide, but he realizes that he teleported to an island closer to land due to his height throwing off his teleport. He hides under the water to avoid being caught, but ends up having to teleport away to avoid being seen. He accidently ends up on land, and nearby is a tribe of people, who are speaking a strange language. Before they approach him, Saiki ducks into his shirt, remarking that he feels embarrassed and is at a loss. He ends up floating and crashes to the ground once he reaches a certain height. It eventually clicks and he returns home, normal size. He had realized that his growing and shrinking powers were the same, but growing happened slowly, and shrinking happened quickly, hence why he would return to normal size slowly. The cause of this issue? The off comment he made about the sink “Becoming 80 meters tall.”
Chapter 201 “A Miraculous InvenPSIon”: Saiki notices his dad using a tablet and asks him what it his, to which Kunihara explains. Once he remembers he has work, Kunihara runs off, but not before offering his old tablet to Saiki, saying he can use it to read books and buy things. A little while later, Saiki is amazed by the tablet. He remarks about the shopping sites he an use to buy not only physical copies of books on, but digital ones as well. He keeps thinking about how amazing the online shopping sites and recommendations are, meanwhile he performs basically the same exact thing to his mom, when she requests he go out and buy groceries, as he instantly apports them for her, and also added foil because he had a precognition about her running out. While searching for appliances, he stumbles on the coffee jelly maker he owns, and finds out it has shitty reviews, but everyone recommends a newer model. He looks for the cheapest price of it, and finds an ad claiming to sell it for 100 yen. However, he falls for the trick of a ridiculous shipping fee, and his father laughs and remarks how just like his mother, he got scammed. Angry, Saiki teleports to the factory and threatens them into giving him the model for 100 yen, claiming that he doesn’t have to pay the shipping fee if he picks it up himself.
Chapter 229 “No Need for Bath Salts! Taking a Dip in the PSIcret Hot Spring”: Saiki decides to take a visit to a secluded hot springs in the mountains to relax himself, but unfortunately two strangers decided to hike there at the very same time. He cannot just teleport or walk away, since he didn’t bring his clothes with him, having teleported there to begin with. To make them leave, he decides to heat the hot spring up, so that the two men get overheated and decic to leave. One of the men, however, decides to try and stay in the water that is slowly gaining heat, in order to outlast Saiki. The man eventually gets out and faints, and to avoid having to help them, Saiki feigns having fainted from the heat as well, causing the two men to leave on their own.
Chapter 243 ″Welcome to PSIberspace”: Saiki’s dad has a new VR headset, and while he has to leave for work he offers it to Saiki to play with. Saiki is enamored by the horror game his dad was playing, being that it’s able to surprise him. The jump scares, however, cause him to accidently use his telekinesis, which is actually blowing stuff up at his dad’s workplace, instead of his house.
Chapter 245 “Trending on a Streaming PSIte”: Kaidou, Nendo, Kuboyasu, and Saiki are all hanging out, and Kaidou mentions he has a camera and wants to become a youtuber (Yotubo-er is what it’s called). At a café, the group suggests video ideas, such as Teruhashi. In order to prevent this plan, however, Saiki uses telekinesis to stab french fries into their eyes when Teruhashi ends up walking by the café. On the walk home, however, Saiki receives a premonition about all the video ideas they suggested becoming popular, including one of him using his abilities on the french fries. He obtains the camera from Kaidou and deletes the footage, which had been recording due to the camera being on the entire time.
Chapter 255 “APSIsting In Mediating A Long-Term Marriage!”: Saiki and his parents go to visit his grandparent’s, only to learn the pair is fighting, and his grandmother would like a divorce. The start of the entire fight is revealed to be because Kumagoro left the toilet seat up, and Kumi explains how she’s had to put the seat down for 40 years. The reason she was so adamant to divorce as well was because Kuusuke had pushed her to it. Kumi gets ready to leave the house, especially after Kumagoro purposely leaves the lid up one last time. Saiki stops her and tells her to put down the lid one more time, only for the words ‘I’m Sorry’ to be written on it. The fight is resolved.
Chapter 264 “Please Go Watch the Live ActPSIon Movie!”: A manga Saiki reads is getting a live action movie, and he is particularly upset about it. His dad happens to be the editor for the manga, and takes him to the filming set to change his mind. (By the way, this is the best chapter for showcasing Kunihara’s shittiness as a father. He physically attacks his son several times. Missing, of course, but he still actively attacks him. Kunihara is a horrible person, let alone father.) Saiki views the set and is perturbed by the actor choices, specifically Makoto as the lead character. He is even more upset to learn that the movie features an original character (like a badly written wattpad fanfiction), and that the end of the movie even features the death of the main character, and Kunihara explains that it differs from the manga greatly. He explains to his son that the changes make the movie better, and Saiki ends up agreeing after he winds up viewing the actual live-action movie.
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Wallpaper - Reid x Reader
A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily!
Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise , @clean-bands-dirty-stories , and @definitelynotkatesblog !
Spencer Reid x Reader
Category: FLUFFY FLUFF
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 4.2k
Masterlist
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In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in.
I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others.
Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day.
First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation.
Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man.
As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter.
“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files.
As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer.
P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”
Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.
Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained.
***
Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more.
Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut.
“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money.
Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away.
“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face.
I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist.
“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree.
“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair.
“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files.
***
At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again.
Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me.
“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture.
“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”
I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand.
Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.
“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it.
***
“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily.
“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.
“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.
“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.
“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.
“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.
That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant.
***
“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child.
“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug.
“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me.
“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen.
“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.
“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug.
“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.
“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat.
Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish.
“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding.
“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face.
“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further.
“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate.
Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time.
“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth.
“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee.
“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression.
“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.
Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over.
“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile.
“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”
“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics.
When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake.
“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order.
“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake.
“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off.
“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.
“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him.
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.
***
Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying.
“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over.
“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image.
Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me.
“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.
“Y/N, I-” He starts.
“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk.
“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection.
Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up.
Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way.
Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.
“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes,
“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper.
“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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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.
#Danny Phantom#dp#dp fanfic#my fanfic#your heart#chapter 1#ghost king au#witch queen au#enemies to friends to lovers#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#jazz fenton#vlad masters#vlad plasmius#frostbite#clockwork#paulina sanchez#dp star#ghost king! danny#witch queen! sam#aged up#Amethyst Ocean
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Title: Would You Cry?
Summary: Hange asks an innocent question and Levi finds himself reflecting on his emotions and his relationship with Hange. Written for @levihanweek. Angstober 2020. Prompt: Silence/Screams
Link to cross-postings: AO3 ffnet
Note: I know I’m late to the party but I will be doing the rest of the prompts for Angstober as well and they will be in chronological order. I hope you enjoy! Do tell me what you think.
"If I died, would you cry?"
Levi was close to spitting out his tea. The only thing stopping him from allowing himself that comfort was its price. Within a few seconds he ended up choking on it and having to cough it all out before looking back up at the one who asked the question. "Hange what the fuck do you mean?" His anger both from having lost the tea, the burning sensation in his throat and of course, the pressure of having to answer something like that.
It was a simple question. Levi knew that. He could easily answer with a yes or no and be off with it. There were implicit questions surrounding that simple question which Levi didn't want to address as he weighed the question. What is the probability of Hange dying? If god forbid, she did die, would the circumstances allow him to mourn?
Levi had learned already multiple times, that one could make decisions but never know the outcome. With that though, he went for the safe "maybe"
"I would probably cry if you died. We're the only ones left from the old survey corps and I guess losing you would make me feel like I lost my old self and It's probably gonna take a lot to process it." Hange offered her own answer and looked expectantly at Levi.
Somehow, Levi felt pressured to give an answer of the same quality. "Why do you wanna discuss this anyway? It's useless. We won’t know how we’d react until it happens. What if I die in battle and you have to be completely focused on the enemy to even survive?"
"Would I wanna be the last one surviving if that happened?"
Processing all the possible could-be's and would-be's had Levi shaken to his finger tips. He put his tea cup down. "About the plans for the port…"
"Hey Levi, humor me!"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Would you? Why? Why not? You didn't cry when Erwin died, when your squad died…" It was just like Hange to approach this as if it were a scientific problem.
"And you want me to go back to all those memories and come up with some conclusion on something we won't even be able to predict. Besides, at that point Hange, will it matter?" It took a lot of energy and discipline to stop himself from raising his voice.
Hange gave him a knowing look and somehow, Levi understood that with his almost emotional tirade, he gave too much away.
"So you would cry?"
Would You Cry?
The general peacefulness of Paradis since eradicating the titans gave Levi enough free time to consider Hange's question.
He found himself embarrassed when he would have bouts of self awareness of what exactly he was doing but somehow, it gave him an excuse to think about her.
The last time he cried was when Isabel and Farlan died. When his special squad died and when Erwin died, he was in no good position to even process the death, especially since he had the younger members to consider.
Was that the reason I didn't cry? At the heat of the moment, and looking back at it, somehow he couldn't explain it. As he thought further and tried to dissect the raw feelings from his memories, he realized at the point of Erwin and his squad's death, he had already braced himself.
Every death he had witnessed, somehow helped him brace himself for the more painful deaths and by the time Erwin and his squad died, Levi had already hardened himself for the impact.
Would Hange's death feel any different?
He thought back to her words.
I would probably cry if you died. We're the only ones left from the old survey corps and I guess losing you would make me feel like I lost my old self and It's probably gonna take a lot to process it.
It worked both ways. Since Erwin’s death, Levi had held on to Hange because she was the only remnant left of the life he missed. The survey corps completely changed since Erwin’s death and it was a painful transformation. They had gotten rid of the green cloak and the brown jacket. Levi continued to hold on to those pieces of the old team but a living reminder of the life he lived before. A point of common history and the feeling of camaraderie was what drew Levi to her more than anything since Erwin’s death.
She started inviting him for black tea after one of their meetings regarding the extermination of the remaining titans within Wall Maria. She was one of the few people he completely trusted and respected even before Erwin had died. Having lost the whole survey corps though, Levi had only become more vulnerable to the only friend he had left from the survey corps. On top of that, with Take Back Wall Maria operating a success, Levi had given himself some room to hope and consider the future.
That first time they were alone together was the night after they got back. They brought Eren and Mikasa straight to the jail cell and went out for some tea in their office soon after. That was the night Levi first how beautiful Hange was. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and her one good eye was staring intently at the black tea in front of her. Levi only noticed then how her eyes would narrow intently when she was thinking and how much comfort it actually gave him since by experience, he knew it always followed an ingenious idea.
Her hair was always messy. As someone more fastidious than others, Levi had hated it at first. Somehow, as he got to know her and started to become aware of the contributions the brunette made to the battlefield, he couldn’t help but think that maybe -- just maybe--- she had planned how to tie her hair, so it could fall into place just like that. It was a ridiculous thing to consider and logically, Levi knew she was just messy and scatterbrained. In the end, he admired that part of her too.
It was as if every part of her personality was there for a reason. Her wit, her tenacity, her optimism, her enthusiasm were there to fill something inside him that was missing yet, to teach him something he had still yet to master. At the same time, her bouts of seriousness always seemed to come when needed, always followed by some plan, some well thought-out information-backed decision which Levi admitted more often than not he would be unable to disprove himself.
The late night conversations over tea about plans for the taking back Wall Maria, evolved into plans for the port, then to plans on attacking Marley started to evolve into something personal as well. It evolved from questions of “What do you think?” Alone in the commander’s office late at night, Levi and Hange would exchange conversations on opinions they would have never made public in a professional meeting.
Eren changed. Mikasa changed. The old survey corps wasn’t there anymore.
Without them knowing the meaning behind the possibly cold and hard “What do you think?” became “How do you feel?” Eventually, Levi and Hange started to discuss the losses of their squad, the loss of their former commander.
The room was a mess but I waited months to clean up my squad’s things in the former headquarters.
I started using Erwin’s old pen set in the office.
Do you notice that the commander’s office doesn’t smell like him anymore?
Yeah, the new one will probably be more effective against bullets. I’m keeping the old survey corps uniform.
Suddenly, it became questions, of “Why do you feel that way?” He should have seen it coming when Hange dropped the bombshell at that time. Their conversations had become too personal, too meta and Levi only realized at the back of his mind, that he had already imagined a future with Hange. He had imagined every birthday, every success, every milestone with Hange there celebrating with him. He had imagined every loss, every failure with Hange mourning with him.
That bombshell of a question only brought him back to the inevitable reality that Hange could die. It also proved another painful reality: Hange was thinking about it.
Would You Cry?
The rough life Levi had lived meant that did frequently get nightmares: Erwin’s death on loop as he slashed the titans necks one by one going towards the beast titan, Isabel and Farlan’s gruesome death by the aberrant titan while he was unable to move no matter how much he tried, his mother’s death and the stench of rotting corpse that only got stronger as the days went by, the sounds of rats scurrying towards his mother’s body and his futile attempts at chasing them away.
Levi had learned to live with them. He would get one and he would just go out for a midnight walk, maybe pass by the rooms of his comrades and listen to their breathing from outside the room, a brief reminder that his life was not all death. By morning, the nightmares would be a distant memory, maybe an added motivation to prevent any unnecessary deaths in the next mission assigned to them.
That night was somehow different. He wasn’t frozen. He was chasing the titan who was holding an unconscious Hange. He was slicing at the nape with all his power. He went to the front, blinded the titan. The titan continued to hold onto Hange, and Levi instead desperately for the fingers. If he couldn’t kill the titan he could at least save Hange. His swords could not penetrate the hand. He tried hitting it multiple times, from different angles.
Eventually Levi did manage to penetrate and cut the fingers off but by then it was too late. By the time he did feel the familiar sensation of blade on titan muscle, Hange had let out a blood curdling scream.
Levi screamed as he sat up. His eyes were wet. He was rattled. His ears were popping. His throat was dry. He was nauseous and had somehow expected something to come out as he dry heaved on the toilet. A few specks of blood came out, Levi guessed from a wound that had opened in his throat.
Levi painfully muttered curses. He took his pillow and tore it apart in frustration and watched as the feathers fell lifelessly on his bed. Somehow, the feathers falling on his bed, allowed him enough headspace to process what had just happened. It was just a dream. It was just a dream but somehow it felt too real. He was humanity’s strongest but he was fucking powerless to the thing called life. He could learn all these skills but life always found a way to fuck him over in particular.
Levi got up weakly. If life was going to fuck him over anyway, he should at least allow himself the luxury of a small indulgence every now and then. He went out of his room and allowed his instinct and procedural memory to lead him through the familiar route to Hange’s room.
He had forgotten to wear shoes. Any other day, he would have been disgusted to even imagine the dust sticking to the balls of his feet.
“Hange wouldn’t mind.” That was the only thing he could think of to justify it. For some reason, it was enough.
Hange had forgotten to lock the door. He had expected to see her asleep or maybe be working on something. He had expected her to be surprised at him barging into the room like that.
She was sitting up in bed, silently staring at him. It was as if she had expected him to come into the room and she was expecting what he planned to do next. She scooched a bit to the right.
“You don’t mind?”
“I heard the screams Levi. I’ve heard your footsteps stop in front of my room a lot, especially right after your squad died, after Erwin died, hell after every expedition we had and I wanted to open the door for you every single time, especially right after Erwin’s death. I just didn’t think you’d want to show that side of yourself yet.”
“How are you so sure it was me?”
“Levi. We’ve worked together for so long, you can even tell it’s me knocking just by the sound. I’ve picked up my fair share of things about you too.”
They did not need to say it straight out. The warm smile and the casual confirmation of the small details that peppered their interactions more and more as time went by. Levi was fully convinced then and there of two things: that there existed something special between them and Hange had felt it too.
He slid beneath the blanket beside Hange and rested his forehead on her bare shoulders.
“You know, I will cry if you died. I’d scream. I’d beg you to stop whatever bullshit you’re doing.”
There was silence for a while. Levi thought she was asleep and for a while was relieved that Hange hadn’t heard that more explicit confession. Maybe he just was not ready to lay down his pride yet.
“You said it yourself. We won’t know how we’d react until it happens.” Her voice felt cold. Maybe that was what was needed from his commander, given the impending war.
But that could wait another day. Levi pressed his face harder into Hange’s shoulders and moved up to her nape and settled his forehead on her bird’s nest of a bedhead. At that moment, he just wanted her warmth.
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Operation: Loved (Kazuichi x Reader)
This is essentially gonna be a Kazuichi appreciation thread because he is a truly underrated character in my book. I’ll add updates to this every now and then. You can read it as seperate stories or as a whole. Anyway, here we go! Enjoy!
You loved messing with Kazuichi.
Not in a mean way, of course. More of a you-look-absolutely-fucking-adorable-when-you-blush kind of way.
Normally, you tried not to embarrass him too much, but lately Kazuichi had been really down on himself. He’d just gotten back from doing a job with his dad last week, and things seemed to just go downhill from there. He’d had several bruises and a busted lip.
On top of that, he had told you that you’d be better off without him. You tried to argue, but he left, and since then, he’s been avoiding you like the plague.
You were normally very patient, but the anger towards Kazuichi father, the sadness that Kazuichi was hurting, and the pain of having him avoid you had all built up until you’d finally had enough.
Now, you had one mission and one mission only:
Show Kazuichi how loved he was.
~
You’d always had this feeling that Kazuichi had been starved of affection, but you never knew the full extent of it until you started dating. Kazuichi seemed to deem himself unworthy of any form of love.
At first, it didn’t bother you too much. You would kindly correct him and remind him that everyone deserved to be loved, but when you two got together, his insecurities seemed to grow.
He would go out of his way not to touch you, always claiming he just didn’t see the point of it, but you knew better. He became more irritable, sometimes starting fights over how much better you would be without him.
You’d tried to help, tried to soothe him with kind words, always afraid of pushing too hard, but this was going nowhere. It was time for you to man up. You needed to face this head on, and if that meant drowning Kazuichi in your love, so be it.
~
This new line of action started on a Tuesday, the week after midterms.
You stepped into the garage on campus, taking a minute to examine the various projects in each room as you made your way to the one belonging to Kazuichi and Miu. You’d run out of screws, so you came to see if they’d let you borrow some.
When you stepped inside, Miu was nowhere to be seen, but after a bit of searching around, you saw a head of pink hair, half hidden under a black beanie, and you smiled as you walked over to Kazuichi.
You were just about to tap him on the shoulder when he yelped, jumping backwards when he shocked himself. You flinched, instinctively trying to catch him, but your plan quickly backfired when you stumbled backwards at the sudden weight, taking him with you as you fell.
Your back hit the ground with a thump, knocking the air from your lungs, and you were incredibly thankful that Kazuichi wasn’t very heavy, or he probably would’ve crushed you.
He was sprawled across you, his back pressed against your chest. Once he realized what had happened, he immediately rolled off of you, apologizing profusely.
You sat up, rubbing your shoulder to soothe the pain there. You supposed you should’ve expected it to hurt. The floor was concrete, after all.
When he saw that it was you, his cheeks took on a pink hue, and he ducked his head as he apologized once again. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were there, and I didn’t mean t-“
You touched his shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, Kazuichi.” You told him with a reassuring smile.
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Some Ultimate Mechanic, right?” He laughed self deprecatingly. “Can’t even fix a fuckin’ wire.”
You looked personally offended by the remark, as if he’d insulted you instead. “Don’t say that! You’re doing a great job, Kazu.”
If you thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to now. His face had turned the same color as his hair, and it was then that you remembered how embarrassed he got when you called him that.
You smiled slyly, your eyes gleaming mischievously. You got to your feet and held out your hands to him, pulling him up with relative ease.
Kazuichi was thin and fairly light, but you were also stronger from lifting stacks of wood, large wooden parts, and furniture. You had gained a lot of muscle since you became a woodworker, and it was that blood, sweat, and tears that earned you the title of the Ultimate Woodworker. It was that title that got you a part time job teaching classes on woodcarving and carpentry. You enjoyed it a lot, and being able to share your passion with others never failed to make your heart feel light.
“What were you tryin’ to do anyway?” You asked, glancing over his shoulder curiously.
He hesitantly shifted so you could see his workbench. “Nothin’ special, just tryin’ to fix Miu’s alarm clock.”
You stared at the broken and dismantled object in front of you in pure disbelief. “That’s an alarm clock?”
“Well, It was..before Miu threw it at a wall.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I knew she wasn’t a morning person, but I didn’t think she was THAT bad.”
“Don’t go talkin’ about me behind my back!” Miu yelled as she barged into the room. She stopped beside them, folding her arms over her chest in an attempt to look angry.
You poked her in the side, earning a squeal from the younger girl. “Quit acting like you’re mad. Anger doesn’t suit you well.” You teased playfully, watching Miu turn red.
Sometimes you swore Miu had a thing for being made fun of because the girl instantly swooned.
“Sometimes I really think you might be a masochist.”
“Ah, Ibuki says the same thing!” Miu giggled dreamily. She always got like this when she talked about Ibuki.
Miu quickly shook her head and turned to Kazuichi. “So, can ya fix it?” She asked, motioning to the would be alarm clock.
“Yeah, it’ll take some time, but I can probably get it done by they end of the day.”
Miu grinned, whacking him on the back so hard that he almost stumbled. “Awesome! Thanks Pinky!”
Kazuichi sighed at the nickname but turned back to the clock, nonetheless. He began to tinker with the different pieces and wires while you watched curiously. You’d always found it strangely calming to watch Kazuichi work. Watching the way his fingers moved nimbly made you want to take his hand.
So you did.
You caught him so off guard that he nearly dropped the screwdriver he’d been reaching for. “Wh-What’re y-you-?”
You’d been about to let go when you noticed something.
You turned his hand, running your thumb over a small burn mark on the back of his hand. “Did you drop one of your cigarettes or something?”
When he didn’t respond, you looked up at him. He was looking away, a bitter frown on his face. He didn’t have to answer for you to realize that his dad had done it.
On instinct, you brought his hand up to your face, lowering your head enough to brush your lips over the scar.
You felt more than saw him stiffen, and you stayed there for a second longer before straightening up and letting go.
For some reason, as you looked at him, your mind drifted to Sonia. You still found it surprising that Kazuichi had ended up with you, considering you were practically Sonia’s exact opposite.
Sonia was polite, formal, and very elegant. She was the Ultimate Princess for a reason. She was gentle in personality with a graceful, refined appearance. She lived lavishly, though she never once bragged about it. The only thing about Sonia that didn’t scream ‘Princess’ was her avid love of the occult.
You looked up to Sonia quite a lot and had been very happy when you were able to become friends. However, now that you had grown to be such close friends, it only made the differences between you stand out even more to you.
You were gentle in nature, but that was where it stopped. When it came to your actions and way of living, the only word that came to your mind was clumsy.
You were clumsy in every aspect of the word. Sonia was graceful and focused, while you were scatterbrained and often daydreaming. You often tripped, overworked, or just accidentally hurt yourself. You sometimes caused problems that could’ve been avoided if you’d just paid a little more attention.
Sonia was soft spoken and gentle, while you were sometimes too loud, amazed by simple things, and sometimes a bit too enthusiastic.
You had a calm side, of course, but with the calm came one of two things: Peacefulness and warmth or somber thoughts and dark memories.
Sonia was beautiful: small, soft, and petite.
You actually two inches taller than Kazuichi. You were lanky with broad shoulders and a lean frame. You had scars that dotted your skin, though most were hidden beneath her clothes.
Some were from accidents while you were working. Most were from the abuse you had suffered in the foster care system.
You worked hard, often showing up for your dates with messy hair that was sprinkled with sawdust. Kazuichi always laughed as you dusted it out, and you would smile and laugh along with him, but sometimes, you really did wonder why he liked you.
You didn’t get why he liked your sweat-streaked face and calloused hands. Everything about you was the opposite of what he’d once told you that he liked in a girl. It often left you wondering what on earth he saw in you.
Despite your less than stellar thoughts, you smiled happily, your fingers lightly brushing his arm as you slid past him. “See ya later.”
You waved and headed for the door, only realizing once you were outside that you had completely forgotten to ask for some screws.
#danganronpa goodbye despair#danganronpa imagines#danganronpa fluff#danganronpa#kazuichi souda#kazuichi x reader#kazuichi imagine
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NAME. Kasey Wallace-Sinclair AGE & BIRTH DATE. 25 & September 7th, 1995 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Trans Woman & She/Her SPECIES. Witch ( Air + Memory Projection ) OCCUPATION. Cashier at Grocery Stop FACE CLAIM. Hunter Schafer
BIOGRAPHY
Kasey Wallace-Sinclair was given two surnames because her parents simply couldn’t decide on one. It was this indecisiveness that shaped the way that she grew up— every wall of her childhood bedroom was painted a slightly different shade of yellow, and her hair was always tied back with baubles of three different textures and patterns. From each ear (pierced when she was three) she wore mismatched earrings and as she grew up, she simply adopted the philosophy that odd socks were just as good as any other ones.
As far as she knows, she was born in Hartford, Connecticut to a teenaged mother who couldn’t yet handle having a child just yet, and instead was put into the hands of two eccentric but loving parents; an interior designer and an accountant. She had been given the name Kyle, but they saw the way that their child struggled under their love, how they grasped for brighter, more beautiful things. They cared little for the constructs or expectations of the rest of their community and Kyle became Kasey, and whatever tears and horror had tormented their child seemed to cease. Under the warmth of their love, she blossomed.
She didn’t have a hard childhood, she remembers rocket popsicles that dripped down the length of her arm and endless, easy summers. She’s a strong swimmer and took to water like a fish, diving off of docks and throwing herself from diving boards. Her light hair grew lighter in the sun and her skin freckled and browned. Their tiny home in Connecticut had never allowed her for a fresh start and so the Wallace-Sinclairs moved across to another continent, seeking out a new life for them and their daughter. Summer stretched on and they spent the first one in England on the coast in Devon, where she splashed her toes in the water of the county’s sandy beaches.
Fall was a bit harder, and being trapped behind a desk so far from a window made her fidget and squirm. School made her hide under the sheets and pretend to be sick, especially when words danced on the page and she couldn’t make sense of them. When words were the enemy, it was numbers that she loved. They and the children that she chattered with at the bus stop made each haul to the classroom worth it. Kasey was doing equations that all the other students couldn’t dream of completing in the sixth grade in one period, but cried over a sea of text in the next.
After a while, she stopped trying. It felt good, letting go of a rope that had been twined around her throat for so long. Instead, she treaded water, fell in love with the way that numbers could form anything if you entered them in the right combinations on a computer. She toted a laptop around with her at all times, typing furiously away at a screen to make something out of nothing. A bit of her own magic. She made her mother’s interior design website, then a funny animated email for her father. When she turned thirteen she’d been declared both incredibly clever and incredibly unmotivated, making apps on their home desktop while staring blankly into space during class.
She found other ways to immerse herself. After a fall fair, she’d decided that she wanted to learn how to read palms and fell in love with the magic of it— pulling meaning out of the lines in someone’s hands, she absorbed everything there was to know from a youtube video and then made up the rest, believing it all wholly. Astrology was her next fascination and after that, she swore that she could see auras, and after that, a whole year was spent learning strange animal facts instead of reading Huckleberry Finn. There were other curiosities, swirling moments where she sat in the middle of a torrent of crimson fall leaves that danced patterns in front of her, or days where she could swear that she ran fast enough that not a single rain drop touched her skin. When she was angry, it felt as though the world responded and the atmosphere got heavier, more blustery to match. You’re just empathetic, her mother had said, smoothing down pale hair that she had gotten into the habit of dyeing brilliant colours.
Her parents had begged her to apply to better schools, and shocking everyone, one in London had taken her in on scholarship. It had been her shining maths grades that had pushed them to take the chance on her, as well as a weighty portfolio of already successful microcomputer applications, all published under her name. A whole new city lay at her feet, but she was first burdened by the hurdle of an entirely new school. Make new friends, the guidance counsellor who had been assigned to easing her transition in the school had said, and Kasey took the instructions to heart. Most avoided her gaze as she tried to seek out a friendly face, but it was the bewildered, dark browed gaze of what seemed to be another new student that she gravitated towards.
His name was Theeran, and she announced after peering at his open palm that they would be good friends. He was good, and he didn’t mind that her tights had stars on them, or if they were baggy at the knees or ripped. She floated through the campus unbothered, her head tipped up towards a sky the colour of a robin’s egg, tucking flowers behind both of their ears as they made journeys across campus. Instead of burying her nose into books, Kasey spent her days in the sun, laughing, dreaming— her fingers stretched for a future that neither Hartford, nor Devon, nor London could provide her. The little worlds that she could create with the stroke of her keyboard in the middle of the night could only satiate her for so long; there was an entire world that waited and would not be cancelled out by her oversized headphones and late night radio.
They turned seventeen and she unfurled Theeran’s fingers to expose his palm, drawing a finger down a line in the middle and announced that they should run away and start on an adventure. He planned it all and she left a note to her parents promising her love before jetting off with her best friend. Their locations were ones that she had circled on a map, and it was on countless trains and tucked into tiny beds and on couches that he whispered the truth of what he was and told her what he thought she was. A fox and a witch, they chased through Europe with the fervent passion of a forest fire.
It wasn’t always a good life, there were days that were hard, more so than either had expected when they had begun their adventure. There were days where money didn’t just run out, it was stolen, and mistakes were made that left them hungry and made dreamers dream of going home. She turned to trickery and magic to rustle up coins and Theeran worked harder than she ever could have hoped for them and at the end of every difficult day, she woke to watch the warmth of a beautiful new sunrise. Every day was a new start and she grew into powers that had been a mystery to her, learning new and more wonderful things that she could do. At a touch of her fingertips to skin, she could project memories to those whom she wished. It helped with the fortune telling, it padded things out and it made them more real to those who she whispered words about the stars and their futures to.
She also learned about the rest of the supernatural world, of the magic that it held and the creatures that were created from it. Not all had the same majesty and warmth as Theeran, some were cruel and they were hungry and her best friend had nearly been whisked away had it not been for another vampire who had entered stage left and decided it upon himself to adopt them. Cambridge was nice for a while, but it was too close to home, too domesticated for her liking and after a little while her bag was packed once again and they returned to a nomadic lifestyle that they had grown into.
Greece was an unexpected turn of events, after so many years without a permanent home, it felt nice to have somewhere to be called to. Her own parents have grown contented with knowing that she would never be back, that the girl that they had once known and raised was someone else now— but that above all things, she was happy. Theeran was quick to take up the offer to live with the vampire they had met so long ago, but for herself she has found interest in having a space of her own. Having an entire apartment to herself feels almost too luxurious but she has found ways to make it her own. A clean white ceiling has been painted a glossy navy and black and the decor is pieces that she’s toted around with her from their adventures. It’s a bizarre, kitschy space, and a rabbit roams freely when she dances in socked feet on the hardwood floors. Kasey works now at the grocery store, torn half between waking and dreaming, with a sticker occasionally plastered to her cheek. She’s a dreamer, she always will be, and her capacity for love is immense— she finds herself incapable of shutting the valve and telling that rusty pipe that there is nothing left for her to give.
PERSONALITY
+ sweet, enthusiastic, idealistic - gullible, scatterbrained, codependent
PLAYED BY Sam. EST. She/Her.
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Changing States | Jimin
Jimin x Reader | non idolverse au, husband!Jimin | Fluff, crack-ish, slight angst
Summary: You receive a much needed comfort after one of the worst days in history. Well... your history anyway.
Warnings: Mention of a pregnancy loss.
Word Count: 3k
* Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.
~
Sometimes people liked to call it waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You preferred to label it as just a bad day, nothing to worry about usually, yet now you were rethinking everything.
Today, your entire bed seemed to be on the wrong side of the room.
You awoke to the sound of loud machinery and boisterous yelling filtering in from the window. Blinking the sleep away, you inwardly cursed for forgetting to get the uneven windowsill fixed up yet again. Now you would have to deal with the noise from the construction site next door without being able to complain about it because it was your scatterbrain that had left you to suffer in silence.
You let your eyes flutter shut and extended one arm towards the other half of the bed, desperate for the warm body that would usually be there but only meeting the cold, dreary bedsheets with your fingertips.
That’s right, he has to work extra early hours today.
You sat up slowly, letting your eyes trail over the hauntings of a crease he had left in the smooth fabric. You couldn’t help but roll over to rest your face into his plush pillow, trying to catch the last tendrils of his scent that was made up of a million different things. The things that made you feel secure and bolted to the ground, whether it be his aromatic shampoo or the light cologne he’d worn the previous day.
It hadn’t been the best morning so far, but you knew he would have made it perfect if he’d only been by your side. Being your source of motivation to get going, or something.
You got to your feet and padded into the bathroom to make yourself somewhat presentable. Your brows were still twitching from the obnoxious noise outside, and the fact that they’d brought in a big reversing truck had amped the annoyance level. Repetitive beeping was a big no for your sanity at the moment.
“Two more weeks,” you sighed and tried to angle your lips upwards into a smile, just for the sake of feeling brighter in mind and spirit.
Then, the smile vanished as a high pitched shriek tore from your throat. The big fat hairy spider sitting on your mirror didn’t move, but you did.
“What the fuck!” You growled, eyeing the creature and clenching at your heart over your shirt to stop it from racing. It was so big you were almost too afraid to try getting rid of it. Usually you could whip out the fly spray or get a cup and a sheet of paper to let it outside, but this one was giving you eyes.
“Nope.”
You let the bathroom door click shut and let your head rest against the wood with an audible thump. It was still morning, but already you’d been through about twelve of your most detested emotions of all time.
I’ll let Jimin deal with it when he gets home.
You left the spider to its own devices and made your way into the kitchen for some food. Luckily for you, the milk had expired and your coffee machine had decided to overflow and ooze its weird concoction of water, caffeine and sugar straight onto your tiles. Tiles which had been freshly mopped not two days ago, mind you.
You reminded yourself to feel thrilled that it hadn’t been on the carpet instead.
You could only sigh again and began moving your feet to get the cleaning stuff from the cupboard. The sound of the machine dripping occasionally followed you the entire way, and that, coupled with everything else that had gone down so far, landed you the biggest headache you could possibly imagine.
You weren’t hungover, but if things continued the way they were then it wouldn’t be long before you’d be setting yourself up for something similar. Your phone buzzed a while later and you perked up at the message from your best friend. She’d suddenly invited you out for lunch, but you didn’t know how to feel.
I’ve been kicked out of the bathroom and I haven’t had much to eat. I’ll look like trash and be grumpy as hell, but hey at least it’ll take my mind off everything for a while.
~
Newsflash, it hadn’t helped.
You watched in shock as your friend beamed at you from her seat in the café. Your coffee had been served unnaturally cold, and then when you’d sent it back they had returned with a completely wrong order altogether. You could barely keep your fragile sense of civility together for the nervous looking waiter, but whenever you felt yourself about to snap you just imagined Jimin’s heart-warming smile and the words he would always speak in moments of amounting stress.
“It’ll be alright baby, you’ll get through it.”
Now, the aforementioned shock was stemming from your friend and colleague. The friend and colleague who had just dropped a bombshell.
“We’ve decided to move interstate! There’s a lovely house on a river we saw and fell in love with,” She smiled excitedly.
“That’s amazing,” You breathed, genuinely feeling happy for her but trying your best to ignore the feelings of sorrow gripping at your heart.
“I’ll be sad to leave you guys and the company, but I’ll come down to visit as often as I can. You okay (Y/n) sweetie?”
You jerked as her hand found yours across the table.
“Yeah, sorry I’ve had a bit of a chaotic day. I’m so happy for you,” You smiled, grasping her hand and feeling relieved when she seemed to let the moment pass. You hated yourself for letting the negativity outweigh everything else, but you knew you would easily be feeling elated if had just been a better day.
“I’ll have to show you photos, maybe you two will be inspired to look for another place somewhere too,” She smiled tenderly, knowing you and Jimin had always wanted to venture out into the world to find the perfect spot. Work had overtaken many things so far in your married lives, but seeing your friend finally break free did make you feel hopeful for a change.
Feeling encouraged by your thoughtful and optimistic expression, your friend continued.
“Just a nice little place with a perfect temperature for like, everything! Wouldn’t it be great to even live close together? Our families and kids could share so many memories.”
Your smile dropped and your best friend suddenly let her voice die in her throat, realising she’d brought something up she shouldn’t have just yet. It was a little soon.
“Oh shit, (Y/n) I didn’t mean to.”
“No, it’s fine silly,” You laughed it off, still squeezing her hand to reassure her. Her worried gaze pierced into your own and you felt a tad uncomfortable from all the emotions in your brain running rampant all of a sudden.
“You look under the weather, let me pay your bill,” She offered softly, getting to her feet and prompting you to follow. You were so grateful she was so tuned to your mannerisms, she knew just when you needed a break from it all.
You said your goodbyes after apologising for your miserable appearance once again, finally getting into the car and heaving a massive sigh to rid yourself from the tension. You contemplated calling Jimin, but you knew that he was at work and would likely be busy with getting everything done. He was efficient like that.
“What a shitty person I am, couldn’t even be fucking happy for my friend,” You muttered in shaky annoyance as you started up the car, feeling like you wanted to scream all your anger away into the dashboard. Onlookers be damned, you didn’t care about being judged.
No, just buy some ice cream or something on the way home. You’ll have a better day tomorrow.
More of his words drifted through your memory.
“Keep it together, treat yourself. You deserve happiness.”
A sad smile tugged at your lips and you made it onto the road after promising yourself to feel better. If you hit a low point in your day you could only climb up from it. You told yourself to clear your mind and look forward to what time you had left.
To your chagrin, the positive outlook only lasted so long when you found yourself neck-deep in traffic; the sound of rumbling engines and an occasional beep of a horn being the only sounds greeting your ears for a solid ten minutes.
What the…
Your resolve cracked at the edges and began crumbling.
“Music will help,” Your teeth found your bottom lip as you reached for the radio station buttons, but unfortunately you were only met with white noise and the momentary sound of ads breaking through. You could almost feel the speed of the ice cream melting.
The world became blurry and your grip tightened on the wheel.
~
“I’m home, my love.”
Jimin’s slightly wearied voice echoed through the front hallway as he shuffled through the door, keys thrown onto the bench and coat draped over a nearby bar stool. He rolled his shoulders experimentally to feel how tensed they were, letting out a sigh at the muscles loosening from their strained position.
“(Y/n)? Jagi?” He used a few more names to try and get your attention, full lips pulling into a frown when he only heard muffled sobbing coming from the living room.
Oh no…
“(Y/n)?”
He walked into the room with purposeful strides, rolling up the sleeves of his button up as he went to help cool down. When he saw the flickering screen of the television, he noticed instantly that an attempted movie stream had failed due to a poor internet connection. He searched the couch hurriedly with concern flashing in his chocolate brown eyes, finally coming to rest on your form wrapped in a blanket huddled to one side. His heart broke when he watched your shoulders tremble with another barely contained wail.
“Shit, (Y/n) are you okay?” He inhaled sharply and jogged over to kneel in front of you, hands flying upwards to peel the blanket away from your face.
“God, I’ve wanted to hear your voice all day,” You sniffled, face red and puffy from tears. He didn’t know why you were crying, but the man embodied all the sensitive qualities of an empath. The sorry sight of you made his own emotions well up at an alarming rate.
“Hold on,” He cradled your face and stood up to gently smear the tears away from your cheeks, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead before rushing to the bedroom to get changed into something comfier.
“You definitely should have called me!” He groaned with a frown, hating that you were feeling so saddened but hadn’t been in contact to let him know.
You could only sigh. “You were working, I’d be too much of a bother.” You swayed on your feet as you waited for him out in the hallway leading to your room. You just wanted to be close to him now; wanting absolutely nothing more than his soothing words and body heat. He finally nudged open the door with his elbow, now dressed in tracksuit pants and a plain white t-shirt that was looser than anything else he owned.
“Come here baby,” He cooed and looked at you with softened eyes, reaching down to sweep you into his arms almost effortlessly. You wrapped your own arms around your husband tightly as he brought you back to the comfort of the couch, pressing his lips to your hair to remind you that he was home safe and sound.
“Tell me all about it.”
You sighed a rickety sigh, feeling even more tears swell from nowhere at the feeling of immense joy you now felt.
“Shit day, just all round shitness,” You murmured as you settled comfortably into his lap. His fingers swept some of your hair away and then moved to run through the tresses, making you smile and lean into the inviting pressure.
“Hmm, what was the first thing,” Jimin prompted, wanting you to let it all out to him while also being curious as to what had caused such emotional trauma. You revelled in the softness of his voice and moved your own hands to touch his face. He thought it was cute, but you believed the resulting smile he flashed your way was the most adorable thing to exist on this planet.
“The windowsill, for one,” You finally muttered, breaking off into a chuckle.
“Oh, whoops. I keep forgetting.” He clicked his tongue, a rumble of a growl sounding deep within his chest. You chuckled again and couldn’t help but nuzzle your face affectionately into his neck.
“It’s not your fault, I was gonna call up about it ages ago.”
His fingers continued to comb through your hair as he hummed for you to continue. Your tears had stopped altogether as you synced your breathing with his, feeling secured by the feeling of his rhythmic heartbeat underneath your moving hand.
“Met up with (F/n), but I looked like shit and felt like shit too. Oh yeah, coffee machine broke before that as well.”
“Wow, double whammy.”
You snorted and tried to push down your feelings of endearment to continue solemnly. “She’s moving away with her husband, interstate.”
Jimin let out a low noise of understanding. Finally, he could wrap his head around why the combination of all these small and big events would cause you to fall apart at the seams. Now that he thought about it, it had been so long since he’d even seen you cry. Maybe you’d been bottling it up for months now, and he just hadn’t noticed.
Work causing me to be ignorant, again! I really need to start focusing on what’s important...
Jimin pushed the thoughts away as you continued with the adoption of a heavier tone, the warmth of your tears falling onto his shoulder suddenly. He ran a hand over the top of your head to comfort you, his own eyes watering at your outward display of frustration.
“I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy, I mean I was but she’s one of my only friends at work and I know I’ll feel a little lost without her there. The house sounds really nice from what she said too.”
Jimin felt your form stiffen as you sobbed lightly.
“Then what?” He prompted with a soft whisper, holding you closer and rubbing your arm to help calm you down.
“She t-talked about kids and stuff, I’m so fucking stupid but I couldn’t help thinking of the miscarriage. She knew too, she…she had to stop herself from speaking just so I wouldn’t break down. Jimin, I’m such a horrible friend, I really am…”
Jimin felt his own sorrow creeping up on him as you brought up something that had deeply affected you both. You comforted one another as you stopped to brood for a few minutes, the silence being as consoling as anything while you focused on the sound of his breathing. He cleared his throat, urging away the crackle in it to lighten the atmosphere.
“It’s alright, the world is full of people you’ll meet and keep close to you. Think of all the opportunity out there instead of seeing the loss. We can visit, no?”
You cracked a smile at his much needed optimism.
“Of course. Of course we can, love.”
He kissed your head again and you reached up to smooth your now softened hair out of your face and peripherals. You looked up at him with an absolute storm of adoration clouding your gaze.
“How about we stay in tonight and just cuddle here on the couch. I’ll get the TV working too,” He murmured, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks lovingly and letting his eyes curve slightly from the accompanying smile. You ruffled his thick ashy locks briefly before shifting in his lap and capturing his lips with your own gently.
“I love you so much, it hurts sometimes,” You sighed after pulling away, but he jerked to follow your lips a second after. You hummed in amusement as you moved to straddle him, trying to pour all of your gratefulness and appreciation into the kiss.
You disconnected but rested your foreheads together to lock eyes, your face scrunching slightly when he tickled your nose with his own.
“I love you too, but you already knew that,” He rasped, planting another tiny peck to your lips and letting it linger.
You couldn’t stop running your thumbs across the expanse of his wide cheeks, your noses still inches apart and warm breaths tickling each other’s lips in small puffs. It was as if neither of you ever wanted to move.
“Yeah, kinda,” You giggled while giving his cheeks the lightest of pinches.
“Kinda? I’ll give you kinda…” Jimin growled playfully and rolled you over to the other side of the couch, standing up straight and flexing out his shoulders while you shrieked with laughter.
“I’m sorry, I know!”
He chuckled cutely and leaned over to tickle you some more before showering you with more kisses. You let your face relax as you took in his warm gaze. You felt a little calmer and more serious after the small bout of liveliness you’d had.
“Sorry, I didn’t really ask about your day. Now that I’m done I can give you a massage while you tell me.”
Jimin let out a big breath and fixed his roughened hair, looking down at you with vaguely tired eyes that were still filled with appreciation.
“Massage sounds amazing love, but I need the toilet.”
“Okay, maybe the ice cream is back to normal. Get it on your way back?” You called out after him.
“Sure thing.”
You smiled softly to yourself as you thought about how much he had managed to cheer you up with one conversation. You did feel kind of selfish for unloading all your troubles onto him without seeming to give a shit about his day in return, but you promised you would make up for it as soon as he came back. You would help him turn his day around, just like he’d done for you.
In fact, the ice cream reminded you of this very moment. When it came down to it, something like this could never be irreversible. Even if you were a sad, melted puddle of emotions from the moment you woke up, you’d since been restored to your former glory by your saviour husband, your personal freezer. He kept you together when you needed it the most.
“AH!”
A muffled shout from the bathroom caused you to slap a hand to your mouth to stop the cackles from escaping.
“That’s a big motherfucker.”
Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.
#park jimin#jimin#reader#jimin fluff#bts fanfic#bts fluff#slight angst#husband material#just a whole lot of hurting tbh#he is a sweetheart#it's too late for this#bts#sorry for this#saladejin
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The College Society Chapter 2 Part 1
I’m a little late but... here we are !
Chapter 2 begins ! It is shorter than chapter 1 (I counted 8 parts) but I hope you’ll like it anyway !
Liam Saturday November 25
"Dude, whatever is the problem, you should stay away. You already have enough to think about."
The freshman agreed, reassured by his bestfriend on the line. Yeah, he's right, Pete and Theo's relationship is none of my business. To be honest, he feared the team captain... He probably was an ogre who fed the poor blonde freshman as much as possible and would soon eat him. (It could be a little exaggerated but... Liam didn't want to be the next). (After all, he already noticed Theo's sharp teeth).
"I need to go." stated Nate. "Gwendoline's waiting for me."
"Still not your girl ?"
"Hell no. She call us 'friends with benefits' so I'm not complaining. Anyway, I'll call you later, see ya."
Liam hung the phone up with a smile. He loved these discussions with his bestfriend, and couldn't wait to see him again. As much as he can say, when they met during holidays, Nate was doing fine, even if Gwendoline refused to be his girlfriend. I wonder if she's as beautiful as he pretended. They agreed to say she was a fairy, but the young lad never saw a fairy before. (Yeah, they were in the same delirium). (That's probably why they were bestfriend). Lost in his mind about fairies and unicorns, the boy didn't realise the nurse called his name. He missed two times in a row his turn, too distracted. Eventually, once Prince Liam defeated the terrible Ogre named "have your heads in the clouds", he walked in the nurse's office. (Let's be honest, "Prince Liam" is a perfect title, isn't it ?).
"You asked for a check-up." declered the blonde apprentice. "Undress yourself please."
He obeyed distractedly and followed her instructions. Since he had met Raphaël one week ago, he had done two other stuffing session. Nothing too excessive, only enough to feel a bit bloated, but he wondered if his friend had poisoned him. I stayed clean for months, but he succeeded to make me an addict again. (Yeah, it probably wasn't his former captain fault at all but...). (The mutant could have a project for him). Anyway, the nurse, called Chelsea according to her badge, brought him back to reality when she assured :
"You are in a perfect shape. Maybe even one the best I ever saw. You can be proud of yourself. We'll do some measurements, but I'm not worrierd at all."
He thanked her, a bit disappointed (a 8yo boy would have loved to be poisoned by a mutant), and left the nursery after the control. To be honest, he wasn't worried about his condition. He wasn't even sure if stuffing his face was a bad thing anymore. The bad memories were fading with time.
The freshman joined Nick for their macroeconomics lesson at the amphitheater. His friend was staring at Rebecca and Emilio with an angry look. When Liam came closer, he mumbled :
"She totally forgot to come for the project yersterday. She doesn't care anymore."
"Everyone forgets things from time to time." reasoned the taller lad. "You forgot to close the fridge's door at noon for example."
"That was you."
"You got the point."
(Liam didn't even remember going to the fridge at noon). (But he wasn't stupid for all that). Nick headed towards the tier quite pissed, and once slumped, got his gameboy and started to play. His friend sat down next to him thoughtfully. Under his open jacket, the angry boy wore a singlet which show some curve at the belly level. As always, he ate too much. (Liam was well aware of his roommate's love for junkfood and between us, he felt a bit jealous sometimes). (But this is a secret).
"What are you staring at ?" asked Nick. "I'm just stuffed. I ate at the cafeteria."
He closed his jacket prudently, but in fact, Liam was already gone miles away. He had glanced Barbara in the first row, and got lost in his memories. I wonder what she's thinking... I really need to know what she heard about me... Yeah, I'll ask her as soon as the lesson is over.
Rebecca Tuesday November 28
In two weeks was taking place the first qualifiers for the National University's Championship in March. The team was competing against the universities around the state, and needless to say, they had to train. At least for the relay race. The black girl finished a lenght, quite satisfied, and headed towards Bob, who watched her from the side. Her coach seemed a bit odd since she pit herself against him. However, he accepted Emilio, which was the more important.
"You did good." he declared once she was closer. "Your team can't lose the qualifiers as long as you're running."
"Thanks."
She sat next to him, and watched the other who were still running. Her boyfriend was the fattest : with great splendor, he crossed the finishing lane a few minutes after her. Then came Chelsea, who had been appointed captain, but Rebecca caught sight of Nick and couldn't help but staring at him. He was going with Laura towards the pool, probably to prepare the field before this evening training. I need to put an end to our argument. He's too childish to come, but I'm not that proud. With shame, she remembered Liam had told her these exact same words several weeks ago. He might be simple and scatterbrained but sometimes he was right. Nevertheless, when she stood up, Bob stopped her and whispered :
"Think wisely champion. You need to stay far away from bad influences and this lad, despite not being fat, drunk or high, is a bad influence. He's a nerd without any desire to be better nor any will to work on himself. An average guy like him isn't worth your time. Don't waste your energy for nothing."
She nodded slowly. I know it's wrong but... She could not desobey Bob a second time. And after all, Nick wasn't that important, was he ?
Later this day, when the black girl reached the pool for the training, she glimpsed Pete, clumsily hidden in the bush next to the door. Since he left the team, his physical condition went worse and worse. Around a month ago, he could have been considered like a bit on the chubby side, as someone who indulged a little too much. It hadn't been really noticeable, except when he had been wearing his tight pullovers, and pants one size below. Nevertheless, over november, he had packed on the pounds pretty fast, especially this last week. Several time, she had saw him and another boy at the cafeteria, pigging like two ravenous beast. Consequently, the blonde freshman definitely became pretty tubby. His features had rounded and his arms and legs were softer. His belt dug into a flab roll of fat, and his ass grew larger. She noticed with revulsion his too tight shirt, compressing his stomach. With wider clothes, it would be barely conspicuous, but... When Rebecca came closer, he looked at her, and she forced herself to smile. He looked like a crazy psycho, his eyes twinkling with madness.
"Can I help ?" she asked.
According to Laura, Theo didn't like slackening within his troops, and fired Pete without a second thought. To be honest, I kinda approve it... He's stict, and that's good.
"Yeah, you probably can." answered the lad quietly. "I just wanna know if Theo's here. Can you tell me ?"
"Why ?"
The captain probably hadn't time for this craps. And I'm losing time too. As the freshman hesistated, she sighed, and just went in, ignoring his calls. Seriously, get back in shape and everything'll be fine.
Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Thursday December 1 – Friday December 2
A bunch of swimmers passed in front of the junior laughing about a stupid joke. Four girls were cheering the black athlete on. This one was doing lenghts at a ridiculous pace, like a big carp. As for her, Laura was classifying the team's speedos with a young freshman who looked especially idiot. On a corner, the sophomore Matthew and his crew were ploting some craps. Last, but not least, a handsome brown lad was watching the roof at the water's edge. He seemed completely stupid. Swimmers... We all hear about them, but eventually, they're the most pathetic.
"Lookin' for a prey ?" whispered an unctuous voice in Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey's ear.
Slowly, the lad turned towards Theo, and nodded. This university counted almost ten thousands of students, but only a few deserved his respect. Luckily for him, the swimteam captain was one of them.
"I visited the football club, the hockey club, the basket club, and as many tedious clubs as possible, but everytime, I ended disappointed." he confessed. "Steven Callagan offered me the most beautiful chick he had in stock, but she was so backwards she didn't even understand my name."
The swimmer faked indignation.
"That's gross. God knows how much you love your name."
Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey outlined a smile.
"It's the only one which doesn't sound silly to my ears." he replied. "Anyway, tell me you have something better for me than a braindead whore ?"
"To be honest, my only eligible candidate might be a little simple-minded himself, but he has the kind of body you like. Well shaped, malleable if needed and... he's well-endowed."
"Don't dare tell me you are offering the dreamy freshman over there ? Is it the only one you failed to catch for yourself ?"
Theo smile grew larger. Ah, don't push it too much. There were only a few hunters among the crowd of students. The swimteam captain could be proud to be one of the best. The head of the University's grandson shrugged.
"Fine. I'll take it. I'm starting this week. Be ready to see me often."
"You know it's always a pleasure."
Liar.
New prey meant several changes in Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey's life. First of all, a little personnal enjoyment. The lad headed towards the cheerleading's permises, and went in. Natacha, his actual girlfriend, looked at him and a glint of joy lit up his eyes. She had beautiful hair, almost orange, which shined with the sun. However, I don't really understand why I chose her. She's blind like a mole. She needed to wore hideous glasses, and he almost vomited the first time he saw her.
"Hi Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey." she greeted softly. "What can I do for you ?"
Oh yeah, I remember now. She had this submissive tone he had been liking since the first listening. The captain of the cheerleader had promised Natacha was ready to do absolutely everything to please, and well, she was. I would almost jerk off just by listening to her voice, but sadly, she's definitely too ugly.
"I guess you'll be sad, but let's be honest, I don't care." he declared. "Our relationship is over. I'm committed to someones else."
The dumbass stared at him silently for a while. He could have left her right now, like he did with the last one, but he didn't want to miss the "realisation face" this time. Damn, her brain work even slower than I thought. Eventually, she understood what he meant, and frowned. Her eyes filled with tears, and she shivered, in shock.
"Why ?" she stammered. "What did I do wrong ?"
The lad nearly laugh. Damn, she's so devoted. She repeated the question, again and again, now crying. In other circumstances, he would have an erection, but she was way too awful. For real, Amber, the team captain, ripped him off. Once he finished to enjoy her tears, he left the premises, rather satisfied. It's not like if he was exclusively seelping with her anyway.
Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey headed towards the cafeteria in order to take his lunch. Usually, he would have eat with his grandfather, but he was too excited by the hunt to be polite. And for God's sake, his grandfather didn't need to suffer his uncouthness. Thus, the lad entered in the canteen, and served himself some food. He expected so much from his new prey. He sat next to Summer, the head of the student union, and started to eat. I wonder how long he will last... To be honest, the hunt was always too easy. For three years now, he had tried both men and women, and everytime, they had succumbed to his charms like mosquitos attracted by body heat. So pitiable. Teams captains and club chiefs had tried everything to find the rare gem, but never succeeded. Eventually, he had started to get bored, and went almost directly to the second part : submission and sex. A lot of sex. Of course, with Natacha-the-mole, he was used to put a blindfold. I wouldn't be able to cum while seeing her face. However, this time, it was Theo's gift. The swimmer was a selfish little asshole, and a real cocky stud. He obviously tried his luck with this freshman, and failed. It promise a real challenge for once.
"Looks like you have a new prey ?" asked the head of the student. "Who's the lucky person ?"
The junior realised he didn't even know his name. Not yet at least... He had a good feeling this time. It would be fun.
"Tell me Summer, shall I tell to my grandfather you're sleeping with two professors of his university ?"
She stared at him, terrified.
"No ! Please don't."
"So be nice, and shut the fuck up."
There were only a few hunters among the crowd of students. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey could be proud to be the best of their community, above them all.
To be continued
Liam thinks he had been poisoned but we all know the truth... Our cinnamon roll loves to be stuffed that’s all ;) How long will he deny the truth I wonder ?
Rebecca, our dear Rebecca, you’re narrow-minded ! But don’t worry guys, she has room to change.
Aaand he is here, Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey, our new main character ! He’ll be very important count on me for that ! I already like him :) Take care, since we have his pov now, there’ll be a lot of vulgarity, smut and some pining.
The weight gain stuff will be long to come, but don’t worry, I’m not forgetting it at all. Liam just has many things do deal with before he can freely enjoy himself as the glutton he truly is ;)
Also, I’m preparing a side story more kink-related for you all... It should be ready soon :)
#the college society#cs#Liam#Rebecca#Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey#a bit of stuffing I guess ?#What Nick is hiding under this jacket ?!#Can it be.... a belly ?!?!#Someone is swearing a lot but it's only the beginning trust me#chapter 2#part 1
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Chapter 2 - Shattered
It has been a couple of days since Kakashi and Sakura were linked by Tsunade. Naruto has returned, once again unsuccessfully. He has refused every single mission ever since, not wanting to leave Sakura-chan when she was in such a vulnerable state.
"It's not like you can do anything for them at this stage..." - Tsunade murmured annoyedly. The missions were piling up and she just couldn't get either Genma or Naruto to go. She felt like she shot herself in the leg with this procedure, because she wasn't short of 2 of her best shinobi, but 4.
Naruto didn't even leave the hospital at night. He was basically sleeping on a chair by Sakura's bed every day since he got back. Sometimes Hinata tagged along, but she never had much time to stick around.
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Kakashi has returned every day to the training grounds after that day. Sakura couldn't talk to him nor could he talk to her. But he was strangely drawn to meet up with her every single day. She always tried to talk to him, and some things he did understand. But not all. Well, not most of the stuff.
She seemed extremely annoyed with him for it, but there wasn't much he could do to change it.
One day, when he arrived, she was healing a bird with a medical jutsu. It surprised him, but at least now he knew that he was facing a medical ninja. He slowly knocked on the barrier between them. She looked up at him. He slowly hooked his index and middle finger into his mask to pull it off. Sakura blushed up to her ears. She has never seen his face before, but man he was gorgeous. The scar almost reached his jaw line and on the same side, a tiny birthmark broke the otherwise perfect skin. One would think he has tan lines from always wearing that mask, but the skin wasn't even half a shade darker around his eyes than around his mouth.
"Who are you?" - He mouthed.
"Sakura Haruno." - She replied. The let the bird go, and walked towards the barrier. - "I am your student." - She mouthed slowly.
Student? - Kakashi though. - But I am not a teacher, nor have any intention to be. I am perfectly fine here in the anbu. At least here I don't have to worry about what people think of me because of my past. As long as they fear me and stay away, I don't have to care about them if they die during missions. Why would I ever become a teacher? That would just mean accepting responsibility for not one, not two, but THREE genins... He shook his head in disbelief. He wouldn't do that to himself. He wouldn't risk this. Not now, not ever.
Sakura started to look through all her pockets, and finally pulled out a photograph. It was wrinkled and torn at the edges, the colours were faded by the years... but it was still her most prized possession. She slapped the photograph against the barrier so he could see better. It was him, smiling happily behind the three kids. But he seemed strangely older than he was right now. Was this what the future held for him? But she looked much younger on the photograph. The two other boys were also familiar to him. He ran his fingers through his messy, silver hair and sighed. What the hell was going on?
That's it. - Kakashi made the hand signs for Chidori - I need to talk to this girl.
"You might want to take a step back." - He said as he backed away as well to hit the barrier with the right velocity. Previously, when Sakura had used her strength to try to break though, it broke two of her knuckles, therefore she was very worried that his jutsu might fire back. She did back away, but tried to call out to him to stop. Nevertheless, he persisted.
Kakashi lunged forward, slamming his lightning-filled fist against the barrier. As soon as his hand made contact with the wall, ripples of light filled the otherwise invisible surface. He felt the power of the barrier rush through his bones, almost breaking them, but he was determined to get through. Then something cracked. He wasn't sure if it was his hand or the barrier, because immediately, a force launched him backwards. Sakura saw a small hole on the barrier almost immediately. She decided to take this chance, partially because she wasn't sure if there will ever be another, when the wall is vulnerable and partially because she was sure Kakashi needs medical help - his arm bending the wrong way was a pretty good hint about the latter.
She gathered all her strength and punched as hard as she could. Then again, and again until the crack between them ran up to the sky. Kakashi was unconscious from the pain, so she had to break through alone. She gathered every bit of chakra she had left for a final hit.
The wall suddenly crumbled before she could hit it. The border between the two had vanished without a trace. Now they were one. What he felt, she did too, and the other way around was true as well. Since the pain of his broken arm was just a hallucination of the mind, she didn't feel that, but she did sense his desperation and panic. His mind was panicking. Someone who wasn't supposed to be there was entering without a second thought.
Sakura sprinted to this unfamiliar version of her sensei and quickly attended to his injury. But he was completely out of it. She threw his healthy arm over her shoulder and took off towards the hospital, not passing a single soul on the way there. Some faded memories appeared but she paid no mind to them. When she finally got there and laid him down on a bed, a memory of someone unfamiliar to her on one of the beds played for a couple of seconds, and then drifted away. It was so crazy to her that Kakashi would build his inner world as a completely empty Konoha. The only thing that caught her attention was that the whole village was overrun with cherry blossom trees. They were in full bloom despite the cruel weather. She was also interested where could he go, when he was unconscious in his own mind. She made a quick mental note to ask it from Tsunade-sama once she gets back... because now, surely she will get back. He let her in. Now she can finally talk to him and tell him how much she needs him...
I mean how much Konoha needs him... - she quickly corrected herself. - I need him too, sure.. because he is my sensei and...
There she stopped her train of thought for a moment. - And what? - She felt herself flush from ear to ear. She never thought she felt something for him... not until she saw him like this. Not that he was about the same age group here, but because of what she saw. She never let herself think of Kakashi like that before. There was no place in her heart, when she was so focused on Sasuke. Sakura has always taken Kakashi's presence for granted, even though she always knew that the way of the shinobi was a dangerous path. She had never imagined her sensei to get seriously hurt, because to her, he was invincible. But now, both in body and mind, he was damaged seriously and it lifted this veil from her eyes.
Kakashi, despite how strong or talented he was; he was still only human. And maybe this was the realisation that kicked that door wide open. As she watched him sleep, she found herself reaching for a strand of hair, tucking it behind his ear. A small smile found its way to her lips, and a strange warmth filled her heart. This man, who was always so distant, and always such a scatterbrained... he let her in. Not just now, but even before this. He let her into his life, despite all this darkness surrounding him. He was there for her, always. So now it was about time she had returned the favour.
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All of a sudden both of the heart monitors went off, displaying that both Kakashi and Sakura were having a seizure. Naruto flew the door open and yelled for help. A bunch of nurses rushed into the room, one pushed Naruto outside.
He has never been so worried. He had already lost one team mate and with that being said, he was not ready to lose the two remaining ones. Just a couple seconds passed by when a nurse came out.
"It's all good now..." - she sighed - "They have advanced to stage two, so that's good news."
"Stage two?" - Naruto was confused. Wasn't the plan just that Sakura-chan goes in, shakes Kakashi awake, and comes back?
"Yeah, they finally were able to break through each other's psyche. Now they can communicate... Tsunade-sama was worried that this will never happen, but thankfully their bond was deep enough." - She explained.
For a second, he was both filled with rage and confusion. For one, if old lady Tsunade thought there was a very slim chance that Sakura would succeed, why did she send her in? And also, what bond? As far as he knew, Kakashi was always busy training Sasuke, but never really paid much attention the Kunoichi of their team. Sure, Sakura was very talented, but her talents were very different from his or Sasuke's, therefore the sensei never really put much effort into her training.
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Sakura wet a piece of cloth at the sink and put it on Kakashi's forehead. As soon as the cool material touched his skin, his eyes shot open and he gripped her wrist with a borderline painful force. She winced but then withdrew her hand. Kakashi didn't say anything for a second, just stared at her.
"I am glad you woke up..." - Sakura mumbled. His dark eyes have never felt so piercing. Of curse, he has never felt or saw what she did. Now there was only a blurred difference between which were her emotions and which were his. She felt like he could gaze into her very soul.
"Why did you help me?" - He asked.
"You are important to me, that's why." - She said. When she realised what had really left her lips, her cheeks became sightly rosier than before.
"Important?" - He raised an eyebrow. Kakashi could feel that she was telling the truth. He quickly turned his gaze away from her as if he was looking for something. He wasn't sure how, but he knew he cared for her too, despite not being entirely sure who this girl really was.
#kakashi hatake#kakshi#sakura#sakura haruno#kakasaku#naruto#naruto fanfic#kakasaku fanfic#fanfiction#shinobi#kunoichi#love story#love#kakasaku love#konoha
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Your Heart
Chapter 4 -- Stalemate Word Count: 8284
READ ON AO3
Waking up to the sound of her parents’ latest invention going awry was something she was sure she was never going to get used to. Never mind that she’d have an entire life to get accustomed to it or her newfound respect for what her family did for a living.
As disciplined as Jasmine Fenton was, being awakened by an explosion was never going to be anything but annoying.
Sighing resignedly, Jazz yanked her covers aside and got up, ready to start a new day. After showering and getting dressed with a long-sleeved, white dress shirt, a black ribbon tied tightly around its collar; a matching black, a-line skirt over thin grey tights; a teal blazer over her shirt, and brown ankle boots (which went well with her brown leather shoulder bag); she first made her way down the stairs to her parents’ lab.
Absent-mindedly combing her pixie cut with her fingersーa decision she made after 18 years of rushed haircuts due to having been covered in some sort of unknown ectoplasmic goo after an invention explodedー, Jazz cut straight to the chase. “Let me guess, your latest invention just ‘malfunctioned’”, she air-quoted.
As she expected, Jack and Maddie were hunched over a metallic device that had definitely seen better days, if the smoke coming off of it was any indication...What she wasn’t expecting though, although she should have, was her dad’s answer. “Actually, that was just the Fenton Toaster. We were about to start the day with a healthy, ghost-kicking breakfast, when she failed on us.” Had she been sixteen again or literally any other person in the world, Jazz might’ve actually been taken aback by the fact that her dad was tearing up over a toaster. Then again, she was Jazz Fenton and this sort of thing from her dad was as common as him yelling obscenities about ghosts. “Oh, dear friend. We hardly knew ye!”
Rolling her eyes at his dad’s antics while her mum patted his shoulder in an effort to comfort him, Jazz muttered, “Dad, that toaster’s almost as old as Danny…” Who, by the way, was going to be ecstatic to learn the dreaded toast-drying machine from Hell had finally been vanquished.
Speaking of her little brother, “Where’s Danny, anyway?”
Again, to any other family in the USA but the Fentons, that question would have seemed stupid. Danny was a college student who lived at his university’s dorms with his best friend, so the chances of him being around his childhood home during the school year were pretty slim. And, again, they were the Fentons, and her little brother had been going back and forth from his dorm, to Fenton Works, to the Ghost Zone (not like their parents knew, or even needed to know, about that one…) since he first got into APU.
Maddie left her weeping husband’s side to pick a wrench up and start working on the toaster again ーpoor Danny; it seemed the evil, toast-drying machine from Hell was harder to get rid of than Vlad. “Sorry, sweetie. You missed him while you were doing your research. Your brother was here yesterday; he said he came Sunday night because he couldn’t find his dorms’ keys. But he’s back at college now.”
She suddenly stopped tinkering with the busted toaster’s inner workings, taking off her goggles from her face, a pensive expression plastered on her face. “Hm...I know Danny’s always been a little distracted, but he keeps losing his keys. At this rate he’s going to end up sleeping on the street just because he can’t get inside his own home!”
Recovering from his temporary loss of composure over the Fenton Toaster ー“I love you, guys, but it’s a miracle this family hasn’t been studied by professional psychiatrics already. Not like I didn’t give it my best shot…”, Jazz thought to herselfー, Jack was soon standing right beside his wife, towering over the pile of scrap metal with a matching pensive expression of his own.
That couldn’t be good.
“Now that you mention it, sweetcakes,” he said, “you’re right. Danny’s always losing stuff!”
“Right?” Maddie insisted. “Don’t you remember, back in his first year of high school, when his English teacher, Mr. Lancer, called you over because Danny’s pants kept falling several times just that week?”
“Uh...the memory’s a bit blurry, Hon, but I know what you mean.” In truth, Jack didn’t remember any of that. All he knew was that he suddenly found himself chaperoning a homecoming dance. If only there was a way to get your memories back like those keychains that you attached to your clothes… And then it hit him. “I know, Maddie! Why don’t we make one of those keychains that you attach to your clothes so you won’t lose them for Danny?”
His wife beamed at that. For all his scatterbrained-ness, Jack truly was a talented inventor with a creative mind. Just a fuzzy head. “Oh, that sounds marvelous, honey! I’m sure Danny will love that!” She exclaimed before quickly pecking him on the lips.
Unbeknownst to her parents, Jazz grimaced in worry at the idea. Back when she was sixteen, or any other day, really; she’d have been overjoyed at the idea of her ghost-hunting parents creating something that was absolutely non-ghost-related, but since said idea would make it more difficult for Danny to keep his secret from them...She was just glad she was in town to look over him. Trying to appear supportive rather than dismayed, Jazz chirped, “Yeah, great idea, Dad...What are you going to call it? The Fenton Keychain?”
“‘The Fenton Keychain?’” Jack parroted before scoffing. “Of course not, Jazzy-pants! I was thinking something more along the lines of, ‘The Fenton Fermoir’!” He announced, striking a dramatic pose.
The blue-eyed young woman started at that, taken aback. “Wait, ‘fermoir’? Isn’t that French?”
“Yes, it’s an adjective that means ‘that which closes.’”
Gaping at her dad, Jazz blinked. And blinked again. And blinked a third time for good luck. “...you know French?”
This time, it was her mother who answered her, laughing her question off. “Oh, yes. There’s more to us than just ghost-hunting, you know?” Then she and her husband laughed together at her own joke.
“Could’ve fooled me…” Jazz mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing! Um...oh, right. So Danny’s not here today, huh?” Her parents shook their heads. “That’s a shame, I wanted to ask him how things were going with...um...with, you know, school and all that. Oh, well! I’m sure he’ll tell me some other time.”
Jack and Maddie exchanged a glance. Ever since Danny started going to high school, their kids often acted weird. At first, they blamed it on adolescence, making them want to make an identity for themselves outside of their parents’ influence but not knowing exactly who they truly were, either. But the fact that their eldest child was 23, their youngest 21, and they still acted like that sometimes was a bit concerning.
The wrench in her hand long forgotten, Maddie made her way to her daughter’s side. She draped an arm around her shoulders, not noticing that said arm was the one holding the aforementioned wrench and that she was unconsciously pointing at Jazz’s face with it. “Honey, is there something about Danny we should know about?”
Jazz panicked.
Yes.
Yes, there were so many things about Danny they should know about.
They should know their kid had gone through a terrible accident that changed his life forever at the tender age of fourteen. They should know he got ghost powers he spent agonising months trying to get control over. They should know he only ever wanted to protect innocents from ghosts and yet, he was labeled as a menace by the very same people he was trying to look after. They should know he’d not only been carrying the burden of being Amity Park’s unofficial protector since he was fourteen, but also became the king of an entire dimension and could count the people he could rely on with his hands. They should know he went through his very first serious heartbreak because the girl he liked hated his ghost half more than she liked him. They should know their college best friend was a fruitloop who wanted to kill Dad, take Mum from him, and either kill or adopt Danny; because, really, it all depended on the side of the bed Vlad woke up on.
They should know their only son was risking his life even more now because he’d made a deal with the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park who, judging by what Danny had told her, was the embodiment of a death sentence.
And he’d been carrying all those burdens and responsibilities, facing constant danger, making decisions not even full-fledged adults would find easy to make, and had been aimed at with ecto-blasters by his own parents since he was fourteen. Being Danny Phantom had stolen some of the best years of his life away from Danny Fenton.
And they had no idea of any of that.
But how could they, when Danny refused to tell them the truth?
Every time Danny faced a bigger threat than dealing with ghosts of the same caliber as the Box Ghost, Jazz tried convincing him to come clean to their parents. Because, what if they never saw him again after that battle? What would she tell them, then?
But Danny would not budge. And, Jazz remembered, she couldn’t blame him. With the entire town, barring a dedicated fan club, and a good chunk of the Ghost Zone against him, how could he risk losing one of the very few places he could call home? Just like she told him when he asked her why she never said anything about his secret, it was his secret. Only he could talk about it with Mum and Dad.
“Jazz, honey? Is everything alright?”
Her mother’s voice broke her out of her stupor. She must’ve spaced out for a while, for her parents were looking at her worriedly. Flushing sheepishly, she cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry. And don’t worry about Danny either. He just…” What was that excuse he told her he’d use if anyone started asking questions again? Oh, right. “He’s just busy working on a paper to help me with my own thesis, that’s all.”
Okay. So not only was it a lie, but it wasn’t exactly what Danny told her to say, either. Her little brother decided to respond saying he was suddenly very interested in the occult because he was writing a paper on a seminar he’d signed himself up for, but since she went back to Amity Park to study the witches there, it was still a good excuse.
Said excuse seemed to calm her parents down, before they fully registered her words and they seemed worried again. But, she knew, this time they were worried for her.
“Uh, Princess? Are you sure you want to focus that thesis of yours on...witches?” Jack asked warily, looking up from the remainers of the Fenton Toaster.
The redhead rolled her eyes in annoyance; there they went again. “Your father’s right, sweetie. While not necessarily a bad topic...erm...it’s not exactly the easiest one to research.” Her mother tried to discourage her gently. “For starters, most of the records we have are nothing but speculations and hearsay… I mean, the Salem witch trials were mostly based on unfounded accusations!”
How two of the world leading experts in ectology, who defended the existence of ghosts long before their theories were proven correct, could be so convinced there was no such thing as witches was beyond her. Arbitrary scepticism, much?
Jazz had to admit, she understood her family’s surprise when she opted to focus her thesis for her Cryptology class on the legendary women. A psychology undergraduate, a woman convinced of the infallible nature of the scientific method since birth, and an aspiring psychologist since she was sixteen, it was understandable that her decision to minor in Cryptology would come as a surprise to...well, everyone.
But protecting your half-ghost little brother from the shadows for the last seven years had a way of making you question everything you once thought you knew.
After all, if such a thing as ghosts weren’t only real but had an entire dimension for themselves, then who was to say such a thing as magic-wielding women couldn’t exist?
The moment Danny told her and Tucker he planned on asking them for help at the beginning of Fall only cemented her decision. It was a real pity Danny refused to disclose the supposed location of the Amity Park clan for her safety.
“Mum, Dad, I’ve told you already. It’s precisely because of all those myths that I want to study them. For all we know, all those potions that are always mentioned in folklore could just be really advanced medicine. Are we really going to turn our backs on the scientific community like that?”
“And that’s a great idea sweetie! But…” Maddie tried reasoning with her, but nothing came to mind. Awkwardly, she turned to her husband and whispered harshly, “Help me out here, will you?”
Jack didn’t need to be told twice. “What your mother’s trying to say, Jazz, is that, if there was evidence on the existence of witches, we’d already know. Don’t forget, your ancestor, John Fentonightingale, was a celebrated witch hunter during the time of the Salem trials. He was an admired and respected member of his village, but the only thing he ever did was send innocent people to be burned alive.
“When he eventually realised what he’d done, he spent the rest of his life lamenting his shortsightedness; rejecting the fame and glory his witch-hunting days had brought him. And even if he ultimately turned to ghost-huntingー”
“Goodbye, fame and respect.” Jazz mumbled.
“ーthe hole in his heart caused by his actions would never be filled again.” Jack finished his tale with a morose expression, hoping Jazz would understand what he was trying to say.
She didn’t. “Okay, that was a very moving story with a valuable lesson on the dangers of letting fear and paranoia overtake us. But what does it have to do with me?”
Still standing by her daughter’s side, Maddie tried comfortingly rubbing her arms with the hand that wasn’t holding the wrench. “We’re just trying to warn you not to jump to conclusions, because you might regret it.”
Okay, that was it. Her parents were in no position to warn her against jumping to conclusions; they lost that right the day she finally understood they’d been unknowingly talking about ripping their own son apart ‘molecule by molecule’ ーright in front of him. Jerking away from her mother’s touch, she put her hands on her hips as she sent them her most meaningful look.
“For the last time! I’m not going to try and, I don’t know, rally up the entire town against the witches! I just want to study them. You know, learn about their culture, about the origins of their abilities, about the differences between fact and fiction...” she shot them a pointed look as she stressed that last part. “I just want to understand them!”
“But you don’t even know if they exist!” Jack protested as she made it to the stairs.
Hearing her dad’s comment, she turned to face them once more. Oh, she knew they existed alright, that much Danny had been able to clue her in. What she didn’t know was where to find them. But she couldn’t tell them that. “Well, that certainly didn’t stop you from building a ghost portal to another dimension you weren’t even sure existed! And it sure as Heck won’t stop me!”
That last comment should be enough to get her parents off her back for at least a couple of days. But the conversation had put her in a bad mood, something that didn’t happen since she learned to appreciate her parents’ ghost-hunting abilities, or, when it was Danny who was being pursued by them, their lack thereof. Stomping out of the house and slamming the door closed behind her, Jazz angrily made her way to the usual starting point of her quest.
The Amity Park Public Library.
The large granite building was supposed to be completely white, but the decades since it was built had washed out the stones, making them look grey-ish instead. The several steps leading up to the entrance were flanked by two lead lion statues resting atop a block of stone each. The front of the building, on the other hand, was both decorated and supported by numerous columns, with two of them at either side of the wooden door.
Despite the impressive sight, what truly mattered lay behind its doors. Walking inside, Jazz let herself be washed over by the smell of ink and paper so characteristic of the library. Wherever she looked, hundreds of books stood proudly on their shelves, some of them so high up that the only way to reach them was with the help of stairs.
Scattered around the library were several tables and plastic chairs where the visitors could sit to read their latest acquisition or work on the projects that brought them to the library in the first place.
Breathing the scent in, Jazz walked over to the little counter located right at the entrance of the library, where the librarian would usually be working on her computer. Whenever she wasn’t out and about organising books, that is.
Jazz waved at her with a smile. After coming to the library to study for years, she was basically a regular by now. “Good morning, Wilhelmina!” Wincing at her unintentional high-pitched tone, she lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “How’s everything around here?”
Looking up from her computer, the pudgy woman smiled knowingly at Jazz before willing her chair to get closer to her. “Good morning, Jasmine. It’s been so long since I last saw you; when was it again, two days ago?” Wilhelmina joked as she leaned in closer to the redhead, intertwining her fingers as her elbows rested on her desk.
Jazz flushed slightly at the harmless jab. “What can I say? You won’t get rid of me so easily!”
“Don’t I know it…” There was something odd about the way the librarian said those words, but the redhead decided to let it go. It was probably nothing, either way.
“I wanted to ask you if you could recommend a book onー?”
“On witches?” The auburn-haired lady finished for her. Seeing the young woman’s embarrassed hint of red on her cheeks, she chuckled. “Oh, don’t be so surprised, my dear. You’ve been asking for the same thing for almost a month now! It’s just nice seeing someone retain some sort of interest for this old place and its books. Nowadays, most people just come here to surf the net for free.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about me for a while, then! So, the books?”
Leaning back on her chair, Wilhelmina pointed to a faraway aisle. “Try the History section. I’m sure there’ll be a journal or something to help you with your paper.”
Jazz flashed her a charming grin, “Thanks, Wilhelmina. You’re the best!” As she turned her back on the librarian, Jazz failed to notice the dark grin that made its way to her face.
Once Jazz was out of earshot, Wilhelmina said, “Oh, you have no idea,” the twisted expression never leaving her face.
As she walked around the library’s endless halls, Jazz couldn’t help but be grateful for having Wilhelmina as the librarian. Any other person would have looked at her like she was crazy or a Satanist murderer in the making for researching the occult so much, but never Wilhelmina. The woman just smiled at her and tried helping her to the best of her abilities. If Jazz had been looking for information entirely on her own, she’d have stuck to a particular section of the library, but Wilhelmina was always recommending a broader search. And, Jazz couldn’t help but think, it was a smart choice. One never knew what they could find or learn if they listened to different experiences other than their own.
Standing in front of the shelf where the history books were, the aqua-eyed woman began scanning for something that might help her clear up the fog surrounding the group of witches Danny might be facing from now on. If she could just find out where their hideout was supposed to be… Not only would she be able to study them, but she might even convince them to ally themselves with her brother for good!
Ever since she was a teenager and found out about her brother’s secret, Jazz was determined to focus her thesis on the effects such circumstances could have on him. But as time went by, she came to understand that would be impossible. Writing a thesis on Danny’s very unique circumstances would be akin to exposing him, and she couldn’t do that to him.
Because he trusted her.
Danny’s number of enemies increased tenfold by the day, while his allies followed a much more stagnant rhythm. Goodness, he couldn’t even get his girlfriend to give up ghost hunting for him! She and Tucker were the only two people in all of Amity Park he could rely on.
And there was no way she’d ever betray that trust.
Which, sure, was a very meaningful proof of the love and bond between them, but still left Jazz without a topic for her thesis. So when Danny revealed his discoveries on the existence of witches, of all things, she was ecstatic.
The possibility of a magical species living in Amity Park was perfect on many levels. On the one hand, it would expand their knowledge of the paranormal, with the added bonus of finding potential alternatives for everyday problems. And on the other, it gave her the perfect excuse to stay close to Danny and make sure he was safe. With her in town, he wouldn’t have to make up excuses as to why he slept in Fenton Works when he already had a perfectly nice place to stay at APU. All he had to do was phase through her room to get to his.
And, most importantly, that way he had somebody else he could talk to about his double life. He was going to need it if he’d indeed managed to establish a truce between the spellbinding women and ghosts. From what he’d told them, those sorceresses were vile.
As she walked over a nearby table carrying a pile of books with both hands, Jazz couldn’t help but wonder how her little brother would handle the situation.
.............
Danny was not handling the situation well.
Although, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. Lady Arcana’s own unwillingness to cooperate was a key factor in their stalemate.
Even if they addressed each other formally and obvious jabs directed at their respective species were, thankfully, non-existent, the coldness between them that reigned during their first face-to-face interaction was now stronger than ever.
Just like the last time, he’d sent Skulker to escort the queen and her entourageーwhich still consisted of the same two witches; talk about confidence…ー through the Ghost Zone up until they arrived at his lair’s throne room. They still pretended they were both honoured to be in each other’s presence even though Danny was sure the Witch Queen wished she could just spit at him as much as he did.
And knowing Desiree, if she were near to grant her wish, a cascade of spit would rain down on him.
This time, however, Danny had ventured deeper inside his lair, with the witches close behind him. Figuring discussing over inter-dimensional safety in the middle of his throne room would be unwise, since one never knew who could be watching, he led his guests to the Council Room; where the Observants, Clockwork, and heーand occasionally Frostbite or any other ghost with a modicum of authorityーgathered to discuss political affairs regarding the Infinite Realms.
Admittedly, he wanted to slap himself for not thinking about it sooner.
Another thing that was different and he had failed to point out earlier was that, technically, the witches weren’t alone. No, there was nobody else besides the queen and her two...guards? ーcould he even call them guards?ー but they weren’t alone per se, either.
The bespectacled, strawberry blonde one had a pet owl perched on her shoulder. The bird, Danny had to admit, was beautiful. Its plumage was predominantly white and cream. The white feathers were more noticeable in its belly and heart-shaped face, with most of its body and the top of its head looking rather creamy. The owl’s black orbs seemed not only capable of seeing in the dark, but also deep inside your soul.
In other words, the girl’s pet was pretty, but creepy. And he had a feeling that would be a stable of these women.
The Asian teenager seemed to prefer reptiles, and, yes, he based his hypothesis entirely on the fact that the girl had a bearded dragon around her neck as if she was wearing a scarf. Danny couldn’t tell what was creepier; the lizard’s naturally spiky, scale-covered body and its little tongue licking its eyeball, or the way the witch scratched her pet’s chin and cooed at it when she thought nobody was paying attention to her.
“Well, it could be worse. She could buy herself a cat and name it after a married woman who will never love her back.” Danny had to physically restrain himself from shuddering at the thought.
But the weirdest thing, of course, had to be Lady Arcana’s own companion. Which, again, he was sure was going to be a stable between them. At first he didn't even see her carrying anything, her form obscured by her cloak, but the moment they entered the Council Room ーalone; Lady Arcana had stationed her witches to guard the doors, just as he did the same with two of Walker’s goonsーand she made herself comfortable (or as comfortable as she’d ever be in enemy territory), he spotted it.
Had she really brought a potted plant with her all the way from the portal to his lair? And, now that he took a closer look, was that a carnivorous plant?
Scratch whatever he said about the teenager and her lizard. The way the plant nuzzled her face or wrapped itself around her forearm as she gently stroked its stem was ten times creepier. Although, a part of him couldn’t help but think she and Undergrowth would get along swimmingly.
Two plant-loving psychos bonding with each other. Talk about a meet cute.
But never mind their questionable taste for pets. They’d been discussing for over an hour and they were still at the starting point. Time was money and this woman was going to make him go bankrupt if they kept going like this.
“Your Majesty, I understand the situation is quite...extraordinary, but I’m afraid we are still in need of a solution.” He tried for the umpteenth time that hour.
The woman before him just sniffed in displeasure. It was a good thing they were separated by a rather large, rectangular table, otherwise, he might have leaned forward and wrung her little neck out of sheer exasperation. “I am perfectly aware of the situation, King Phantom. But, as I have informed you already, there is not much I can do if I do not know the cause of the portals opening.”
But that was precisely why he needed her help! Getting frustrated, Danny let out through gritted teeth, “Which I believe is precisely the reason why I need you here in the first place, my Lady. You are supposed to be able to discover the reason behind it.”
“Well, supposedly, these portals are a natural occurrence of the Ghost Zone. How is it possible that you do not know how to take care of the problem on your own?” She countered, matter-of-factly, and Danny would have given about anything to get her to shut up and do something useful instead.
“Supposedly,” he echoed, “your people have the natural ability to surpass the laws that separate the Infinite Realms and Earth from each other, and hence, youーshouldーknowーhowーtoーcounterーit!” His voice raising in volume as he spoke, he made sure to punctuate that last part for emphasis.
Narrowing her violet eyes at him in disdainーhow could he have ever thought they were beautiful?!ー, Lady Arcana spat. “Supposedly, that bond was tattered after your kind’s betrayal.”
If it weren’t for the audacity of her statement, he would’ve recoiled at the gravity and resentment etched into her words. Narrowing his own eyes at her, he leaned forward. “Trust me, your Majesty, you would be wise to keep your mouth shut; you are in no position to talk about betrayals.”
As her scowl deepened, teeth borne at him in anger, a low growl could be heard emanating from her throat. But Danny was not going to be intimidated that easily. Returning the intensity of her gaze, the two kept eye contact, initiating a staring contest born from frustration and distrust.
Eventually, the Witch Queen averted her eyes, crossing her eyes in a huff as she leaned back on her chair. Her little plant reacted to her turmoil, for it hopped over to her ーwait, it hopped?!ーto get her attention. Noticing her weird-ass pet near her, the witch began to absent-mindedly caress its little, purple...head?
He was never eating a salad again in his life; he ought to let Tucker know he’d decided to join him in his carnivorous ways.
Leaning back against his own chair, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted. They’d been at it for more than an hour and, rather than discuss a possible solution, all they’d done was argue. Sighing through his nose, he called out to her, an idea forming in his mind, “Hey.”
Taken aback by his sudden drop of formality, Sam looked over at him with a guarded expression. What was he up to? Rather than answering, she raised an interested eyebrow as a sign to go on.
Danny took that raised eyebrow and her silence as permission to continue. “How about we drop the honorifics and formality for a while, huh? I don’t know about you, but I’m a rather laid-back person and having to address someone as if I was meeting the Queen of England tends to stress me out. And that by extension makes me much more prone to get defensive.”
Sam bit back her reply that she was, in fact, as much of a queen as the Queen of England, and that he should treat her as such.
“And let’s be real; getting defensive with each other is going to get us nowhere, don’t you agree? Besides, I’m already stressed out as it is due to a matter regarding a black hole forming, so I bet I’m not the most agreeable guy to be around right now.”
“No, you aren’t”, Sam was actually surprised Phantom shared her beliefs about formality and social distance. But that didn’t mean she was going to lower her guard around him. And his last words took her completely by surprise. “...did you just say ‘black hole’?”
“That’s not something you should concern yourself with.” He dismissed the question immediately.
Squinting her lavender eyes at him, her suspicions of any ulterior motives never quite going away, Sam gave in. “What are you getting at?”
At least she was listening to him. He was willing to count that as progress. Danny raised his palms up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, we don’t know for how long we’re gonna have to work together. So how about we’re at least casual with each other? Because, I don’t know about you, but all this higher register of speech is giving me a headache.”
As if to prove his point, Danny rose up in the air until he was comfortably floating about three feet high. As he leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head and one leg over the other, nothing would’ve wiped the smug look on his face as he looked down on the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park, her own jaw hanging low in awe.
Noticing the smugness radiating off of him in waves, the raven-haired girl forced her jaw shut. No way in Hell was she going to give him the satisfaction of amazing her. Even if she wasn’t going to say it aloud, Sam concurred with his point. Straightening her back, head held up high, she made sure to bruise his ego the same way he almost bruised hers. “Fine. Let’s drop the honorifics, I was tired of pretending I have any respect for you, anyway.”
Danny frowned at that. “Hey!”
“What? Do you seriously expect me to believe I’m not in immediate danger of being attacked by a ghost just for the mere fact of invading their turf? That you and your people actually respect mine?” Her voice was laced with cynicism as she scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
As much as Danny would’ve loved to contradict her, he knew he couldn’t. After all, he hadn’t just sent Skulker to escort them in fear they might get lost, the possibility of them being ambushed by vengeful ghosts was very real.
The raven-haired girl smiled triumphantly, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. “If it’s any consolation, if any of you so much as tried stepping foot, or ghostly tail, or whatever, into our territory, not a single one of us would hesitate to exorcise the Hell outta you.” Motioning to the door with her head, she added. “Susan in particular would have a blast.”
“Susan?”
“The teenager with the bearded dragon; Count Scalynton”
“‘Count Scalynton’?” Danny echoed in disbelief, before having to stifle a laugh with his gloved hand. Seeing the Witch Queen’s unamused stare, however, he sobered up. “And...uh...what about...the owl?”
“That’s Spooky.” Lady Arcana replied with a shrug of her shoulders.
“And your little friend?” He asked hesitantly, pointing at the potted plant comfortably perched on its owner’s lap, but making sure his finger didn’t get too close; in fear of getting it bitten off.
“Oh, this little guy?” Sam looked down at DeMilo with a fond smile. “His name’s DeMilo.”
“...are you serious?”
“You got a problem with that?”
“No! No, no. Of course not! DeMilo is...uh, a great name.” He quickly assured her, sheepishly. The last thing he needed was to invoke her wrath, again. Clearing his throat, Danny decided it’d be best to change topics. “So...No honorifics?”
“No honorifics.” Lady Arcana nodded from her chair.
“Right. So, instead of ‘your Majesty’, ‘my Lord’, or ‘King Phantom’, you can just call me ‘Phantom’ and Iー”
“You can just call me ‘Lady Arcana.’” The Witch Queen cut him off with a tone that left no room for discussion.
The white-haired young man slouched slightly at that. Just when he thought they were making progress, she closed herself off completely all over again. But he couldn’t afford displeasing her further, so he’d have to play by her rules...For now. “Right. Got it. So...about those portals?”
As he asked that, Phantom leaned forward to her, changing his position mid-air so his torso was facing now upside down but his head remained straight. As the Ghost King lowered his body so his forearms were atop the wooden table, an intrigued gaze directed at her, Sam deposited DeMilo on the table, her own hands resting on it. Locking eyes, they had each other’s undivided attention.
Understanding they were back to business, Sam sighed tiredly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I need to know the cause behind the portals’ strange behaviour. If this is something that can be solved through magic, then it is imperative that we know what’s causing it to figure out the best course of action to take. The wrong spell could lead to disastrous consequences.”
“Like?” Phantom raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Like sending the world to another dimension instead of closing a portal between dimensions.”
“I guess that makes sense. So how do we figure out the cause?”
“I can start by looking through this.” Sam offered as she, seemingly, got a book out of nowhere, Phantom’s eyes widening at the sight. The reddish-brown leathered book was the same one she used to open the portals to the Ghost Zone, which made it their safest bet for finding a solution. After all, if the book guarded almost forgotten knowledge on how to open inter-dimensional drifts, then it should have the answers to more mysteries, right?
...............
Outside the Council Room, on each side of the door, Stephanie and Susan were patiently waiting for their queen. Well, “patiently waiting” might have been an exaggeration. Stephanie was stiff as a board, while Susan looked like a furious guard dog, the murder in her eyes only cemented the picture.
Both witches’ emotional state could only be attributed to one thing.
Ghosts.
Or, to be more precise, the two police-dressed, green spirits they were forced to stand guard alongside because the Ghost King wasn’t about to be caught dead (pun not-intended) with three witches and no back-up.
As much as she hated it, Susan had to give the spook credit: he wasn’t nearly as stupid as she thought.
The teenager kept stroking the length of Count Scalynton’s body, currently sprawled alongside her arm, as she pondered different ways to escape the Ghost King’s lair and his ectoplasmic, door-floating, bloodcurdling realm in case things went awry.
Beside her, Stephanie was lovingly scratching Spooky’s beak in an attempt to calm herself down. Looking over at the ghost-guard assigned to her, she squeaked and promptly looked away when the spectre, having felt her gaze on him, landed his blood-red, pupiless eyes on her. Gulping loudly, she whispered to Susan. “Do you think her Majesty will be frequently meeting Phantom from now on?”
Susan whispered back with a sneer. “I hope not! Miss Wilhelmina was right when she warned me against these putrid, soulless drones. We can’t lower our guards, especially not now that the queen needs us.”
Discreetly pointing with her head, the Asian girl guided her partner’s gaze to her hips. Lifting her red hoodie almost unnoticeably, the strawberry blonde’s eyes widened at the sight; two crossed, leather bandoliers were filled to the brims with an assemblage of jars containing colourful liquids. Stephanie’s jaw almost fell open in shock; the 17-year-old girl was armed to the teeth with potions!
Realising they weren’t alone and the dangers in their secret stash being found out, Stephanie tried to appear nonchalant. Pretending to be talking in general, she added. “I just hope her Majesty is safe.”
Susan gave her a wry smile. “Oh, trust me. Her Majesty will be fine even without our help.”
...............
As she skimmed the pages of the spellbook in search of more information on the portals, Sam kept looking over at Phantom, praying he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
As satisfying as it’d been seeing his bewildered face when she suddenly pulled the book off seemingly out of nowhere, the truth was she’d been carrying it with her under her skirt. But what she worried about was not him finding out about the book, but the other items her dress hid from plain sight.
Strapped around her thigh was a black holster filled with potions. Unlike the arsenal Sam knew Susan had brought with her, which consisted of several offensive and highly corrosive concoctions, the queen’s own collection consisted mostly of Blinding Bombs. As the name indicated, it was a type of potion whose main purpose was to distract the opponent long enough to retreat or come up with a plan. If things went south, all Sam had to do was smash the jar against the ground and cover her eyes, for a small explosion of light would ensue and temporarily blind the spirits, giving her and her girls enough time to escape.
As she leafed through the spellbook’s pages, she suddenly shivered, noticing a cold presence by her side sending shivers down her spine. What was even odder was the sudden smell of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Dumbfounded, she turned her face to the side and growled at the sight. Snapping the book closed and bringing it close to her chest, she snarled at Phantom. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Taken aback by her sudden movements, Danny blinked. “Um, trying to help you?”
He had to be kidding her. “Come again?”
“I...uh...I just thought I could help you look for answers.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “So I was trying to see if I could find anything useful in that book of yours.”
Oh, he definitely had to be kidding her. “No, thank you.” She turned him down, only thanking him out of politeness. She turned back to the book. “You’ll only drag us down, anyway.”
Danny was starting to get really frustrated with that all-knowing, condescending attitude of hers. Even his sister wasn’t as annoying despite her know-it-all tendencies. Hell, Skulker was easier to work with! Standing up in mid-air, using his leverage to stare her downーliterallyーhe folded his arms in front of his chest. “And how, pray tell, am I going to drag us down?”
He was surprised by the witch’s next action. Huffing loudly, she got up from her chair and shoved the book in his face quicker than he could blink. At first he had trouble registering what just happened (mostly because he was levitating a good three feet above her and she was still safely on the ground) until he took notice of the sparkly, purple mist surrounding theーfloatingーspellbook. He blinked in awe; so that’s how her magic looked like. Once the initial surprise had worn off, however, Danny had to admit, he was a little disappointed; he’d expected more than a floating book.
Looking over the tome, he saw Lady Arcana staring intently at him. Instead of anger as he expected, however, an amused, knowing expression adorned her features. He might’ve thought she looked pretty hadn’t it been for the wickedness of her smile.
“Read.” She instructed him.
Danny did as he was told...only to furrow his brow in confusion. What the…? Reading over the pages he couldn’t make sense of anything written on them. The inked markings splattered all over couldn’t even be considered hieroglyphics! Squinting at the offending piece of paper, he tried reading aloud. “Spiral...lightning bolt...spork?...What kind of sick mind came up with this?!”
Sam let out a hollow laugh. “You really think that if you were really able to read this book in the first place all by yourself, you’d even need to call for me?” She rolled her eyes at him, not knowing what to think; either this guy was messing with her head or he was an idiot. She motioned with her hand for the book to return to her “Limit yourself to keeping your subjects in line and let me handle this. Although, on second thought, I might actually be asking way too much of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The green-eyed ghost didn’t like where this was going.
Still reading, Lady Arcana raised her palms up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, for a ghost that’s supposed to be the undisputable ruler of an entire race after having defeated a tyrant, you sure have a lot of detractors defying your authority.”
“Oh, please! Like you know anything about my subjects or any possible detractors.” Was it true he was often fending off ghosts who didn’t care for his laws to stay clear of Amity Park? Saying he didn’t occasionally get his ass handed to him would be like saying his parents took kindly to people who disrespect their jumpsuits, but he didn’t have to tell her that.
“I know more than enough.” Sam countered.
“Oh, yeah? Name one ghost who doesn’t respect my rule and still causes trouble.” The halfa challenged. What was he trying to get out of this? At least ¾ of his enemies screamed their names and evil plots whenever they were freed from the Ghost Zone! In Ember’s case, she literally depended on people knowing and chanting her name.
“That poacher ghost of yours...what’s his name?”
A poacher ghost? Who the fuck was she talking aboー? “You mean Skulker?”
Sam perked up at that. “Yes, that one! He so obviously doesn’t respect your authority. I mean, he literally hunts you, the Ghost King, for sport almost every two weeks!”
An undignified sound escaped the halfa’s throat, but that was the last of his concerns at the moment. “Okay, first of all,” he started, raising one gloved finger, “he so totally respects my authority. Whenever I need help, he’s always willing to put the whole hunting-the-most-unique-specimen-ever aside for the greater good. And second,” he sent her a pointed look, floating closer to her. He revelled in the way she uncomfortably shrunk away from him; served her right, “Skulker’s not a poacher, he’s a hunter!”
“Does he have a permit or a hunting license?” Lady Arcana asked, not missing a beat.
That actually gave him pause. “Well...no, butー!”
“If a hunter hunts with no permit, then he’s a poacher!” Seriously, how dense could this dude be?
“You seem to be forgetting that Skulker is a resident of the Ghost Zone; my domain. Whatever laws are followed on Earth or among your kind, do not necessarily apply to us.”
“That outta shut her up,” he thought triumphantly.
“So you’re saying you’re okay with innocent creatures dying solely for the purpose of flattering one ghost’s ego?”
Well, apparently not. Danny spluttered at that. Who was this woman anyway, Jane Goodall?! “Whaー? No, of course not!” He vehemently denied before changing topics. This woman was about to get a taste of her own medicine. “But what’s with all these pointing fingers anyway?! I bet some of your ‘loyal’ witches also commit their own atrocities right under your nose.”
Oh, she was going to blast him into next Thursday for that! Standing up from her chair, Sam slammed her hands against the table (careful not to hurt or startle DeMilo, though). “For your information,” she snarled at the ghost before her, “the only huntress in my clan is Diana. And not only is she formidable, sheーalsoーhasーaーpermit!”
Fed up with the ridiculous conversation and the even more ridiculous woman, Danny slammed his own hands down on the table, even if he was floating. “Again with the permit! What’s with you and permits?! What are you, a cop?!”
“I’m a queen!” Sam all but roared. “So, yes, it is my job to ensure certain jobs are only trusted to people with permits!”
Danny was about to continue ranting, but he stopped himself. All this pointless fighting was only making them waste time, and they couldn’t afford that. He didn’t understand how she wasn’t already exhausted from all the arguing. Rubbing his face with his hands, he let himself fall back on his chair. “Let’s...let’s just keep on investigating. Forget I said anything.”
Sam was about to retort when she took notice of the white-haired ghost’s tired eyes, her own fatigue finally kicking in. Slumping her shoulders as she, too, fell back on her chair once again, she continued reading. “Yeah, sure. That’ll be for the best.”
They stayed in silence for a while after that. Lady Arcana reading intently, and Danny praying to all things above him that he’d be able to survive the day. Eventually, the Witch Queen broke the silence, slamming her book shut. His head snapping up at the sound, Danny dared to hope. “Any luck?”
The queen sighed. “I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?”
His heart sank. “The bad news,” he moaned pitifully.
“Bad news is, there’s nothing in this book about what could possibly be causing the Ghost Zone to create more portals than usual. The most it has is the spell I use to get here, but that’s about it.”
Danny was convinced his heart was now lost somewhere along his knees. “And the good news?”
“This isn’t the only book that might have information on the Ghost Zone. When our people parted ways for good after you-know-what,” the look of resentment was back on her face and Danny didn’t know what to do; he should be the one feeling offended! “most of our knowledge was forgotten, but not lost.”
“Meaning?” He prompted her to finish her statement.
“Meaning, there’s still probably many more books on the topic.” She finished.
“Which means…” Danny began, only for the two of them to groan in dismay. As nice as it was that not everything was lost just because that particular book didn’t have the answers, having to look for another spellbook or grimoire meant they would have to keep meeting with each other. For Lady Arcana would never leave a precious heirloom belonging to her people out of her sight and in the Ghost Zone, and Danny couldn’t afford to take his eyes off of her in case she and her kind double-crossed them.
In other words, they were stuck with each other until further notice...He was starting to regret not being fully killed by the accident the day he got his powers.
#danny phantom#dp#dp fic#my fic#your heart#danny fenton#sam manson#jazz fenton#jack fenton#maddie fenton#oc#Amethyst Ocean#ghost king au#witch queen au#ghost king! danny#witch queen! sam#enemies to friends to lovers
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The Stormsender’s Daughter | Chapter XII | Third Eye
Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII
Word Count: 5,114
Warnings: None.
A sudden pulse like a solid punch to the chest ferociously yanked Ceres from her meditation.
Taking her breath away, leaving her in a heavy pant.
She clutched her chest in slight fear by the random sensation. Cautiousness and curiosity filled her mind.
She had never felt such a reaction from her daily routine. Especially since her meditation period was meant to keep her emotions at bay. Or risk her Third Eye leveling the entire kingdom.
The stress of a Queen was not like any other.
Once she began to catch her composure, Ceres examined the bruise upon her chest.
Despite the light pain it caused, somehow it was...heartwarming.
What about this particular spot made her feel such a nurturing acceptance toward the impact?
As she scoured her memories to learn what the great Ramuh was trying to tell her, the only one she could pinpoint was one day some years ago...
...a gentle presence gracefully resting upon her breast...
...it was the day she lost...
“Muerlin...!”
It had been 14 years since Willownoire lost its princess...
14 years since she was taken away from the family that loved her dearly.
Those years had not been too kind to the Zephyr’s.
Sure, they were beloved by all who knew them throughout the kingdom, but losing Muerlin caused a strain on the family.
The sorrow within the hearts of Silvanus and Ceres weighed heavy on their 4 remaining children.
Ein, being the eldest Zephyr child, was proper heir to the throne, but declined it at a much younger age. Instead he join the kingdom’s military forced at 17 and at 24 has climbed the ranks to Captain of Willownoire’s Glaive.
He had always been a straight forward and no-nonsense character. Unfortunately his upbringing made it difficult for him to really enjoy his childhood.
He rarely spoke of Muerlin for he was aware of the main purpose he joined the military rankings. Muerlin was the Pythoness and the prophecy state that the Stormsender’s Daughter would succeed the throne.
His job was to make sure his little sister had the support system she needed to do so...whether he was here or not.
He was one of the only two of the Zephyr children that was aware of his potential fate. Yes, the kingdom was prosperous now, but the Zephyr’s had previously concluded that their days of serving Niflheim were over.
...and Ein was prepared to protect his sister’s legacy by whatever meant necessary.
The second eldest Zephyr child, had a different approach...
Gaea had spent most of her adolescence despising her parents for what happened to Muerlin.
She saw them as cowards for letting the Nifs take away their own flesh and blood and seemingly replacing her with two more children.
As she grew, that resentment wained, but forgiveness was a much bigger step.
At 21, forgiveness was knocking upon her door. Though she hated the idea of her parents potentially trying to replace Muerlin, she understood what was at stake during that time.
But she still wasn’t about to sit by and allow her sister to return to a ruined kingdom.
As Ceres grew older, she was less able to keep up with the forests and the gardens.
Gaea gladly took upon the role of Guardian of the Forests. She scours the kingdom watching over the inhabitants of the forests. Keeping the wildlife in good health, the trees, the soil, the rivers.
As the Zephyr almost always on the prowl to better the wilderness, seeing her around House Zephyr was rare. As well as seeing her around the cities at all.
Younger children throughout the kingdom made up rumors of her existence and she became a model of protection in the kingdom.
it was rumored by the children that if you ever saw her, you were immune to daemons.
For the Guardian would always protect you.
This fine morning, Gaea had just finished her first sweep of the east forests and was taking a break perched in a high tree top.
The air was crisp emitting a delicate breeze that very much pleased the young princess’ senses.
Weather in Willownoire was usually nice, but today...it was especially lovely. Gaea didn’t think much of it for a moment until...
...a light growl in the distance interrupted her trance.
She pondered it for a moment for it wasn’t like anything she heard before.
“Wait...no way...”, she lightly exclaimed before bolting in the direction of the growl.
As she approached the sound, she remembered a story she was told as a child...
When Asteria was young, she played with all the creatures of Willownoire. Then one day Ramuh asked her which was her favorite and she said the behemoths.
So Ramuh found the purest, most gorgeous behemoth he could find and gave it to the little girl as a present.
The night she perished, he infused part of his life force into the creature making it immortal and sending it into hibernation in a cave far from the cities...
...and it was only to awaken when the Pythoness returned to the light.
Gaea had never really believed the story as more than an old fairytale, but the more she grew, the more she hoped it were true.
And sure enough...at the far east of the forest...emerging from a monumental cave...the more spectacular behemoth Gaea had ever seen. It towered the size of the average full grown beast. It’s eyes were a crystalline teal...just like Muerlin’s.
“It can’t be....”, Gaea’s shock still overcame her senses as she watched the beautiful creature take its first steps in centuries.
“Wait...”, she paused. “That must mean...”, a sharp gasp escaped her throat as a smile stretched across her face.
She finally had a reason to go home. The wind carrying her at light speed.
As years passed, Silvanus spent most of his time in a constant brooding state. As King, his responsibilities were to his people, but his depression grew and grew.
Ein and Gaea were usually busy and rarely home. Though he had his wife and two youngest, Talon kept mostly to himself and tiny Heira was so oblivious to the chaos within her family that he felt constant guilt when he was near her.
Losing Muerlin did not only plague him to the brink of sickness due to his failure as a father, but showing his family love seemed so fake that he couldn’t bare to look them in their eyes.
A father giving away his little girl is supposed to be a momentous occasion of hope and joy as he gave someone who adored her for everything she is and gave her the best love she could ever feel the keys to his heart.
But this...
He never even got to look her in her eyes for the first time and tell her how much he loved her.
How much she meant to him.
And protect her like a father really should.
How could he prove to her that she was his everything when he gave her absolutely nothing?
Every night he imagined what she could’ve possibly looked like. What color were her eyes?
Were they his lavender hues or Ceres’ celeste?
Did she have Ceres’ full cheeks?
Her crooked grin?
Her quips and quirks?
Who was his little girl now?
At 14, she must know, wherever she is, she doesn’t truly belong...she must know she’s different.
Does she know about him? Her family? Did she hate him...?
So many questions.
So many what ifs unanswered...and as far as it looked for him, they never would.
Until...
“King Silavnus!!!”, a light shrill startled the tortured king, lifting him to his feet.
“What is it?”
“It’s...it’s Lady Ceres”, Yurin, one of the loyal servants of House Zephyr, and personal friend of the queen, panted in-between her words.
“What’s happened?”, Silvanus’ youth beginning to rush back at the worry of his wife.
“She collapsed in the east corridor. She told me to fetch you right away”, the panicked servant explained before Silvanus rushed by at a full sprint, Yurin following behind.
“CERES?!”, the desperate king called out toward his wife before he found her on the floor of her meditation chamber panting and wheezing while holding onto her chest.
Frantic of what could possibly be ailing his wife, rendering her immobile, he hurries to her aid.
However, when he reaches her, he notices that her face is drenched with tears.
“Ceres, what is it? What’s wrong?”, Silvanus takes his wife into his arms. To his surprise, upon lifting her gaze to meet his, he realized...she was smiling?
“What the devil...?”, the stunned king thought out loud.
“I-It’s her...”, the overjoyed queen replied between sobs, “I felt her...”.
“Who?”, Silvanus’ confusion still evident.
“Muerlin”.
At that moment, the king felt his heart stop with one booming beat.
“But...but how is that possible? How could you know?!”, he spouted in disbelief.
“R-Ramuh told me...”, the scatterbrained mother stammered, “I-I don’t know how, but...she’s alive...a-and...she’s coming home. She’s coming home, Silv!!”
Unable to contain her excitement over the matter, she began to shake.
And, honestly, who could blame her? Certainly not Silvanus for he yanked his elated wife into his arms for the most warming embrace, no longer able to hold back the tears that had built in his ever so tormented lavender eyes.
Their daughter was finally returning home.
After a moment...
“My King”, a low firm voice echoed through the meditation chamber catching the attention of the royals and Yurin.
“Sir Jerith”, Yurin gently greeting the elder whom merely glanced at her with a stern eye.
Jerith Atrium was the head councilmen of Willownoire and Silvanus’ merciless, no-nonsense advisor.
“Ah, Jerith”, Silvanus greeted the man catching his composure. “What brings you out of your cave?”, he teased the ever so stoic man.
“Our meeting to discuss new policies on the military academic programs. It was meant to start nearly a half hour ago”, the elder stated, seemingly irritated by their king’s forgetfulness.
“Oh, dear...”, Silvanus sighed. “Is it that time already? It completely slipped my mind”, he cleared his throat as he stood from the floor, assisting his nearly calm wife.
“Um...I shall be up momentari-”.
“THE BEHEMOTH IS AWAKE!!!”, an abrupt shriek filled the room halting the king’s sentence, also startling the grumpy elder.
All eyes were on the panting, virtually exhausted Gaea.
“Lady Gaea?!”, Yurin gasped as she had not seen the princess in multiple weeks.
This was the first time she had graced the palace with her presence by her own will in quite some time.
“What is the meaning of this, Lady Gaea? You are completely covered in sweat”, the elder nagged the young woman.
“What I just said, Jerith”, she retorted. Not having any of the man’s sass. “The behemoth hidden away in the east forest!! It’s awake!!”
“You mean...”, Yurin began in disbelief, “from the stories?”
“Impossible”, Jerith spouted toward the young adult like she was delusional. “That story is only an old folk to pacify children with fears of the dark”, he continued receiving an annoyed glare from Gaea. “Besides, if the behemoth of legend was real, it would only awaken if-”.
“If the it sensed it true owner; the Pythoness. MY sister”, she retorted.
“How are you even certain that you didn’t just see a lowly behemoth prowling about?”, Jerith continued to goad the Guardian. “There is a possibility you were patrolling the forests in the west and didn’t even know it”.
“Oh, just because I’m not an 800 year old asshat with rank prune breath, I can’t tell direction?”, Gaea mocked the elder as she stepped toward him.
“Gaea”, Silvanus called toward his daughter.
“I know what I saw!!”, Gaea spouted toward her father.
“She is right”, Ceres’ soft voice sliced through the tension as she finally recollected herself. All attention now on the queen’s stern gaze.
“Muerlin is alive. She is returning to Willownoire. I received a message from Ramuh himself. She has been sent down the path toward home. Only time will tell when she will arrive at our gates”.
Silence filled the room as the gravity of the realization settled within everyone.
With a shake of his head and light eye roll, Jeirth finally surrendered.
“I will postpone the meeting”, he released in sighed.
That night...
The eldest Zephyrs gathered in the drawing room.
The only light within the room was the subtle glow emitting from the fire place.
The only sound was the crackling of the flames until...
“So”, Ein broke the silence in a hushed tone, “...Tenebrae, huh?”
“Yes”, Ceres confirmed. “That was the direction of her essence resonated from”.
“It’s been 14 years. How was she able to hide out there for so long?”, Gaea curiously asked, starring out the window by her seat to the starlit skies above.
“My guess would be the Nox Flueret’s...”, Ein replied in turning his gaze toward his mother whom emitted a light smile.
“Oh, Sylva...”, Ceres softly chuckled, remembering her dear late friend. “Always full of surprises...”.
“So, what do we do now?”, Gaea turned her gaze toward her family. “Niflheim troops are most likely looking for her. Shouldn’t we find a way to go get her?”
“Unfortunately, we cannot”, Silvanus replied. “It would only threaten her safety more”.
“How? We’d be going to keep her safe from the Nifs. Couldn’t Ein send his men on a retrieval mission or something?”
Silvanus shook his head. “That would only make it worse. The presence of Zephyr’s outside of Willownoire would cause suspicion. Suspicion will cause curiosity. Curiosity brings chaos”.
“But she’s walking from Tenebrae and no one’s even heard a peep”, the Guardian protested still not understanding her father’s point.
“And why do you think that is?”, Ein chimed in. “The Nif’s wouldn’t want anyone else knowing that she’s alive. There would be worldwide panic”, he explained.
“Well, if the Nifs don’t want her being discovered, why would they allow her out of Imperial Territory? They had to know she was there...right?”, Gaea turned toward her mother.
“Not necessarily. Sylva would’ve taken precaution...for Muerlin to not draw attention to herself, she had to have a life outside the palace”, Ceres explained. Plus Niflheim is a large place...as well as Tenebrae...I’m sure the Chancellor kept her mostly a secret from a large portion of his army as well”.
“Precisely”, Silvanus agreed with his wife. “The fewer people that know of your treasure, the less likely you are to lose it”.
The thought of his sister being a trophy in Niflheim’s treasury burned Ein to his core. “Hmph...bastard...”.
“Okay...so they didn’t know she was in Tenebrae”, Gaea shrugged. “Still, it seems weird that she would be able to just walk out like it’s nothing”.
“That is true”, Ceres agreed lifting a pondering finger to her chin.
“Maybe they found out...”, Silvanus thought out loud.
“...hmm...it would make her departure more plausible”, Ein confirmed. “Despite being Imperial Territory, the longer she remained there, her powers would be nulled to a dormant state. Her appearance being all that set her apart from the norm...unfortunately...if her hand had been forced, she may have had no choice”.
“But how?”, Gaea asked. “If her powers were in a dormant state, wouldn’t that mean she couldn’t use them? How could they have found out?”
“Well...”, Ceres began to explain. “Her powers being nulled don’t exactly mean she couldn’t use them. It’s like the Third Eye. My abilities are driven off emotion so it’s imperative that I remain cool and collective at all times. Even if there was an adversary at hand. I meditate daily to keep myself in this state. If not, I risk losing control. The Pythoness’ power ranges at a much larger scale than mine so Muerlin will have a lot more to keep in check. Plus....there is the daemonic essence she harbors from Asteria. This essence is constantly battling her psyche for control. If she isn’t subjected to understanding her abilities, she is more susceptible to lose control...and the consequences could be apocalyptic”.
Understand this, horror filled within Gaea’s heart as she imagined what could’ve possibly happened to her sister. “Do you think...”.
“...it’s possible”, Ceres concluded.
The atmosphere shifted to a more somber state as the family mulled over the potential turmoil that their beloved Muerlin must’ve faced to result in her departure from Tenebrae.
“Not to change the subject, but...”, Ein began as he turned toward his father with a stern eye. “...if we conclude that the Nifs forced Muerlin out of Tenebrae, we must address the possibility that they will proceed to make their way here to find her”.
Silvanus sighed at his son’s remark. Although he did not want to admit it, he was correct. Chancellor Izunia would most likely assume she would be returning to Willownoire and would expand his efforts to retrieve her once again.
The ladies turned their attention toward the king.
“Ein is right...if Muerlin is not apprehended on her journey, the Chancellor will most certainly turn his attention to us to draw her out”.
“So, what do we do?!”, Gaea exclaimed. “We can’t just sit on our hands and wait for him to show up! The citizens; they wouldn’t stand a chance!”
“Gaea is right...”, Ein chimed in. His tone more stern than usual. “Muerlin is top priority, but we cannot allow the Chancellor to lay waste to the entire kingdom”.
Ceres couldn’t help, but smile in pride of her children. “Besides...how is Muerlin to return home if she doesn’t have a home to return to?”
Silvanus couldn’t smile despite the determination of his family.
“Still”, he began. His tone as heavy as his heart. “...determination and courage is one thing...but situations of this caliber often end in sacrifice...”.
Ceres was fully aware of this notion, Silvanus knew, but what about the other two?
Ein and Gaea locked eyes for a moment.
Despite Muerlin’s importance to Willownoire, she wasn’t the only child the king and queen cared for. “
“The weight could be too great...”, Silvanus spoke up against the silence, “...you two may have each other and your younger brother and sister to look out for”.
“They depend on you”, Ceres lightly added.
“So, if it comes down to it-”.
“We will see it this through until the very end”, Ein cut off his father.
“No matter the cost”, Gaea chimed in expressing to the two adults they were not fearful of their fate.
“Ein...Gaea...”, Ceres lightly pleaded toward her children, “this isn’t your burden to bare”.
“Like hell it isn’t!”, Gaea rose from her seat. “Those damned Nifs destroyed our family! Made us resent each other AND ourselves!”
“They need to learn whom they are toying with”, Ein added. “Muerlin is not the only Zephyr they need to worry about...they will pay...whether it’s Muerlin...or us”.
Despite the horror of the situation, Silvanus and Ceres can’t help, but feel an unfathomable warmth and pride for their children’s tenacity.
“Alright...so it’s settled”, Silvanus concluded the meeting. “Gaea, would you mind making sure Talon and...”, a sudden creak from the door behind them hushed the king.
After a moment, the azure gaze of Talon came into view.
The four remained silent upon his entry.
The somberness of his stare broke their hearts.
Did...did he hear the whole conversation?
“Talon?”, Ein broke the silence, shifting the young boy’s gaze to his older brother on the couch. “Is something the matter?”
“...Heira had a nightmare and woke me”, he murmured.
“Oh, dear”, Ceres responded in attempt to sound like her normal cheery, collected self. “Perhaps, you’d like to-”.
“She’s in her room...”, Talon abruptly interrupted his mother before taking his leave.
Ceres returned her gaze to Silvanus in worry. He definitely was listening to them.
“I’ll go check on him”, Gaea volunteered to ease her mother’s mind on the matter disappearing from sight as she ventured through the pitch halls.
Talon’s room was in the south wing of the castle on the second floor.
Although Gaea was rarely home, she knew how much he preferred his privacy for his door was almost always locked.
She hadn’t been inside for about 4 years. She didn’t really know how to approach him anymore, but she was already standing in front of his door so backing out was not an option.
“Here goes nothing”, she sighed before gently knocking upon the door. “Talon?”
No one answered.
“Talon, it’s Gaea...”, she tried again. “Can I come in?”
Silence.
She glanced down toward the door handle, biting her lip anxiously. She had no idea why she was so nervous about this. He was her little brother. This shouldn’t be this stressful. It should literally be cake, but for some reason it wasn’t.
Regardless, it had to be done...so, swallowing up her fear, Gaea turned the knob, gave it a light push and...
“...Talon?”, she whispered into the abyss only welcomed by more silence. “Are you in here?”
Flipping the switch to illuminate his room, it was determined that it was barren.
Her anxious mind had egged her to close the door and wait, but her curiosity drove her mad.
Talon was now 13 years old. Gaea hadn’t really seen him since he was about to turn 10.
Even at that time, he had distanced himself from the rest of his family.
He began to let go of the cheerful, optimistic, goofy child he was in the past and absorbed the darker aspects of what the life as a Zephyr was truly like, but judging by what Gaea saw by entering his room...his love for one thing hadn’t changed...
Muerlin.
His walls were cluttered from the ceiling to the floor of portraits of a girl with teal iris’ and silver hair.
They all had subtle differences like the facial structure, hair length, but they all looked like their parents in some way.
The Guardian was torn between marveling in her brother’s unbelievable talent and mourning for his saddened soul for the longing of their sister.
“What’re you doing?!”, a growl startled the young woman.
She quickly spun around to see her younger brother standing at his door, completely mortified by Gaea’s intrusion.
“Talon...did you draw all of these...?”, Gaea asked in absolute awe. “How long...have you been doing this?...Is this why you’re always in here?...”
The teen had nothing to say...his innermost feelings and possessions have been discovered.
As much as it burned Gaea’s heart that the lad would keep such a talent hidden from the rest of their family, it hurt more knowing that he was hurting so...
Noticing a few incomplete sketches on his desk, she approached to get a better look.
“Talon...why didn’t you come to us?...You’re hurting...why won’t you let us help?”
“...you wouldn’t understand”, the boy replied, holding back bitter tears.
“Talon...”, Gaea’s voice softened, “we all miss Muerlin. You can talk to us about it whenev-”.
“No, I can’t”, the boy spouted. His pain beginning to take over his emotions. “I can’t talk to any of you about it...”, he insisted.
“The only person that could understand is Heira.....and she’s too damn stupid to know anything because you try so hard to protect her from the truth...”, he lightly growled, his gaze turning into a heart wrenching glare.
“But she’ll learn when Niflheim blows us sky high...”, the boy mumbles, confronting his sister over the earlier meeting, much to her dismay.
“Talon...”, she began hoping to explain.
“Just get out!!!”, the boy shrieked as he dashed toward his sister and began to shove her out of his room refusing to allow her to view his tears.
“Talon, please, just listen to m-”, Gaea desperately tried to explain before having her brother’s door viciously slammed in her face and bolted shut.
As much as Talon wished his family could understand what he felt, they couldn’t. His parents, along with Ein and Gaea got to see Muerlin. Got to actually welcome her into the family.
Talon and Heira never got that privilege, but he was barely a year younger than his estranged sister.
He felt his existence was merely to shroud the fact that she was taken...alas, he grew up feeling outcasted because of this.
The affection from his family never felt real. It felt forced...and the older he got, the more it took effect.
He grew up seeing his mother’s tears more than any of his siblings and as much as it pained Silvanus, there were times where even looking at his son was difficult.
He wished he could go to them and express how he felt, but it would only bring out the only thing he ever really gave them...sadness, so he remained in his room.
Locked away to dwell on the fact that the person he longed for most in this world, the only one that ever made him feel as if he belonged, would never know him as he gazed upon the hundreds of portraits he drew of her, unable to tell which one was really her before lowering his head against the wall...his gentle sobs filling the room.
On the lower floor of the south side of the palace...
11 year old Heira gazed from her window toward the moonlit sky, wide awake before the latch of her door caught her attention.
“Hello, sweet-tart”, Ceres pleasantly greeted her youngest daughter.
“Hi, mommy”, Heira yawned as she rubbed her eyes.
“What seems to be the matter?”, the queen asked as she took a seat on the bed next to the child. “Talon said you had a nightmare”.
“No, I didn’t”, Heira replied with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh...?”, Ceres asked realizing her son had lied to cover the fact he was eavesdropping, but with a sigh changed the subject. “Well, then why’re you awake? It’s late”.
“I know. I was just counting the stars”, the little girl admitted with a smile on her face.
Being 3 years younger than Muerlin, Heira had almost no emotional attachment to her older sister. She barely remembered her existence most of the time.
This helped the king and queen cope slightly since to her, the gloom was normal so it didn’t feel like anything was amiss, but the guilt in their secrecy was still prominent.
The only one that was oblivious was little Heira.
As Heira grew older, it just became routine to shield her from the horrors of the Zephyr family making her innocence both her best and worst quality.
Especially now...the whole legacy of the Zephyr’s could crumble into dust within the coming months and she had no idea...but how would she, as a mother, explain to an 11 year old who’s lived with a falsehood of perfection that everything she knew and loved could be destroyed because of someone she never knew?
Was there even a way?
“What’s wrong, mommy?”, the delicate child asked her mother, her majorelle iris’ glistening in the night’s hue.
“...Nothing, pumpkin”, the woman lied, upon pure instinct much to her sorrow, as she pulled her daughter into her lap and watched the stars with her. A single tear rolling down her cheek.
“Nothing at all”.
Deeper into the night...
Little Heira had finally drifted to sleep sending Ceres on a tearful walk toward the master chambers.
Upon entering, she was surprised to see Silvanus fully dressed and packing some of his belongings.
“Silvy?”, the queen addressed her king, catching his attention. “Where are you going this time of night?”
“...Insomnia”, the man replied after a deep sigh.
“WHAT?”, Ceres loudly whispered as she rushes toward her husband. “Tell me you’re joking!”
“Alright. I’m joking”, the king replied planting a light kiss upon her cheek.
“Now say it like you mean it”, she demanded in light irritation.
“See, that’s called lying and I’ve sworn by oath never to do so to you”, the man attempted to joke to ease his wife’s worry, of course, to no avail.
“Silvanus Zephyr, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? What could you possibly need to go there for? You tell me this INSTANT or I swear on Ramuh’s grave, I will-”.
“Alright”, the king reluctantly complied to ease his fuming queen. “Alright”.
“Well?”, Ceres egged him, growing inpatient with his silence.
“Look...we both know that the day will come when Izunia seeks our end and will stop at nothing until he makes it so...”, he admitted with a sigh, discouraging Ceres despite the fact she was also aware of this.
“Whatever happens to us, we cannot allow him to find Muerlin...at least not until she’s ready”, he continued.
“So, what is your business in Insomnia?”, Ceres asked with a raised eyebrow.
“To keep her safe as she prepares for the hardships ahead...”, he finally admits. “Sylva kept her from him long enough for her to find her way home, but she will not be safe here for quite some time...and we must be prepared”.
“...but...what if he comes before she returns?”, Ceres asked in slight worry.
“I was speak to Regis of this. The point is, in her current state, she cannot stay in Willownoire”, Silvanus concluded before he finished packing. “I will return soon”, he said in-between a gentle kiss upon his wife’s lips as he exited the room, making it all the way toward Willownoire’s portal gate before...
“WAIT!”
The king turned to see his wife desperately running to him in tears.
“Ceres, what’re you doing?”, Silvanus exclaimed in concern.
“Let me go with you”, the queen begged. “With the two of us, we could watch each other’s back”.
“Ceres, you are needed here to keep the rest of them at bay”, Silvanus denied her request.
“They’re be fine. Ein and Gaea can watch Talon and Heira, it’ll be fine”.
“Ceres”.
“Please!...I won’t be able to live with myself if I lost you too...”, she sobbed, finally admitting to her worries, melting the old king’s soul.
Placing his hands upon her shoulders, Silvanus gazed lovingly into his wife’s crystal eyes.
“Ceres Hova...my love...I promise...I swear...with every ounce of my being, if I am to die soon...it’ll be aside you...protecting Willownoire”, he gently wiped her tears with his thumb before pulling her into a loving embrace.
...and with that, the King of Willownoire bid his kingdom farewell as he set off to The Crown City to ask his dear friend for one final favor.
Tagging: @digitalkanvas @insomniasix @glacian-apocalypse @aquathemermaidstripper @a-new-recipehhh @prettyprompto @dizzymoogle
#final fantasy xv#ffxv#the Stormsender's Daughter#muerlinian zephyr#muerlin zephyr#silvanus zephyr#ceres hova zephyr#ein zephyr#gaea zephyr#talon zephyr#heira zephyr#jerith atrium#friday#yurin brul#willownoire#regis lucis caelum#sylva nox fleuret#the pythoness#the guardian#third eye#ardyn izunia#niflheim
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Red Brick Door - A Fiction
by Dana Jerman
“These were my people, but I was not theirs. Their clammed unhappy world was my world, and it terrified me.” – Dale Gunthorp (from Gypsophilia)
Her face was constantly consumed in a grin that lent her an emotionally invincibility. Somehow, no one could piss her off. In high school, a time when the rest of us were doing nothing but being pubescent and grumpy and frowning, embracing its toughness, its indifference- she was busy being engaged in a teeth-flash fest all day long. Even in class when concentrating her closed lips were upturned at the corners. She endured taunts with laughs that only brightened her face, because she was beautiful, although it was easy to make fun of her. Those who would blow off steam on others knew they could go to her because she wasn’t going to get all huffy and turn their friends on them later. I only saw her get mad once and it was all in her eyes and brows. Her mouth remained open and perky. Tall, brown eyes. A high voice that danced around you with singsong qualities. Never had a boyfriend and walked with a tall briskness that defined direction. Ashley.
I was graduating a class ahead, so during my sophomore year, she showed up for her first at the same city university. I suppose it wasn’t a day, as in a defined 24 hours, that the temper in her smile changed, dissolved. It was a pretty subtle process dragging for weeks, insidious. I still feel as if I should have guessed that something like it would happen. That her mouth would get tired.
I’d run into her on campus at a random juncture and was startled into an indignant curiosity not to find that brazen show of oral cavity on display. Upon trying to engage her in that familiar shining smile her bottom lip would barely twitch in a gesture akin to a muscle spasm and she would breeze past like the embodiment of the cold shoulder. All that wattage was burning right out.
I spied her in a study carol at the library one day, her head buried in a few open texts at a time and writing diligently. I’d never had the opportunity to study her physically before beyond the smile and for a minute I thought she was someone else. Older. With her hair up in a bun on her head, it was plain to see the words “Red Brick Door” tattooed simply on the pale flesh of her neck. Struck by a bewildering force, I stood in amazement. Once glee-filled oozing endorphins this girl was now shrouded in an enigmatic cloud that rebuilt her. I recalled the furiousness of her pen as it moved across a near full sheet of notebook paper. It was probably at this time that I felt I could have changed things, like everyone believes in their individual power to affect a situation and pivot history.
//
Much later amongst old friends at a house party with drinks in hand, I observed an old comrade feed her new significant other hummus for the first time as they sat around a long table. Watching, smirking, until my ears burned as a few seated around the television in the next room began to call the name Ashley White in casual speaking. I moved in to eavesdrop.
“You heard about all this, right? Do you remember the tall blonde from the 1991 class? She acted kind of scatterbrained?” The question.
“Yeah, somebody mentioned something to me a few days ago. Isn’t she, like, dead now, er something?” The remark.
“No, no, she’s been incarcerated for murdering members of an all-girl gang. Like, thirteen of them are dead. Amazing. She has yet to go to trial, but I guess she was part of the gang, the “brick house” or something.”
They nodded in understanding and went back to drinking and watching the news, full of superficially covered street crime and commercials. I felt flush with anger for hearing this report second hand and of all places at a party. It made me consider the largeness of the city, the impersonality. Ashley’s smile was like a beacon of pure light, accompanied by those wild brown eyes. In my memory again this time like a force changed- a sense of history and balance now altogether flawed, astray. Who could have guessed how much she really needed from a community that continually denied her?
I left the party. Seized with a sensation ineffable, existential. Before realizing it I was seated at home with a pen in one hand, writing a letter to Ashley. I asked questions and made statements. She returned my post after a few months with this:
"Look, it’s hard for me to write in here. I’m not comfortable with how mail is handled and scrutinized. My general ability to be mobile in this ward is continually limited. To be blunt, I’m getting used to things. Deep thanks for writing to me. Explanations will follow if you wish to communicate further by making your presence known on an allotted visitation date. Until then, with hope and liberation – Ashley."
And so I went. There is a belief that places only really exist between when you come and when you leave. Everyday for the rest of my life that penitentiary and things said there will blaze on in the back of my brain like an ache impervious to aspirin.
//
Max security. The walls gray and pea green and orange, reminding me of middle school– stale, injected with a numbing agent, a tranquilizing drug that made my insides feel like mildew. The rhythm of thick doors slamming around me gave a claustrophobic feel to each room I was escorted through. The plexiglas window had a stainless steel circular screen in its middle. We would be speaking through a bathtub drain. Two women down on the end were engaged with inmates I couldn’t see. The feeling of encouraged separation, isolation, of total warranted domination by a system sat on my shoulders like puttied guilt. Then the door buzzed and a blue light came on across from me, through the glass.
Her hair was cut very short. Her eyes only sunken a little, she smiled when she spied me with her mouth and nothing more. She wore loose fitting grey scrub-type pants and black moccasin slipper sandals that made her feet look too small. A yellowish shirt. Her hands, the deft fingers lithe with clean, short nails, cuffed in front- a death-row Christ. As she sat, I smiled to return her grin but no words would come out.
“I’ve been excited at the thought of your coming.” In the opening confession her voice was a warm rasp like high grain sandpaper. I thought about her sitting at her typewriter (it was a typewritten note she had sent to me not so long ago), not speaking for days on end as she wrote, her diligent pain pouring out onto sheet after thin sheet – easily ripped and discarded, the dry ink smeared on the edges from the tips of tongued-wet curious fingers. I knew I was crouching in my seat and felt like a tree stump that never got any sun from its place on the back of a hillside. I sat up. I wanted to be candid and open, but asking again the questions I’d posed in my letter seemed trite. I almost forgot the woman was a murderer. It made me sick for a split second to feel safe behind the glass. I didn’t want safety.
“Ashley, I owe you an apology.” I cleared my throat, “I’m here for selfish reasons- I only want to listen.” I couldn’t move a muscle under her wily eyes that might have wanted my voice more than her own. Her smile, like glimpsing her naked, stayed as her eyes dropped away.
“Hmm. You’re probably interested in all the minor bullshit my lawyer would advise me against sharing. But hey, you’re the first to visit me, you know? People are too busy worrying about what I have become and what I’ll look like if they do finally get around to visiting me. Anyway, it won’t matter for much longer, someone’s pulling my number. Women survived my injustice and I don’t want to be a part of that world. If there is a need to say it, life with them became more about hard-line assertion. Vengeance.” She seemed eager to launch into philosophy, regardless of my understanding. A guard moved over to light the cigarette that appeared between her lips.
“Life with the affiliated clan, you know success became less about presenting situations and initiating challenges to one another. Less about liberation and embracing the “necessity to freedom” that for so long we nailed ourselves to in credo. RBD to us represents the entrance to our minds. We have the power to bulwark our consciousness and keep ourselves and what we need in, while the rest stays out. Reducing our wants through sisterhood. That’s why when you come in, you don’t leave.”
The look on her face suddenly weakened. She reached back with both cuffed hands in a motion to loosen her neck muscles. I thought again of the tattoo there. A reminder and announcement, an enunciation.
“There were two women- partners, central to the group. Had just adopted a baby girl. Before too long one of them was being neglectful. Turns out she was abusing her position by seducing a woman from another organization. One night the other woman came and tried to take their child. The innocent lover discovered that the guilty one had encouraged this woman to kidnap their baby, and she went off. She used those within and solicited other alliances to start a war. It’s always easy to find an enemy if you want one.
For me, it’s a case of “right time, wrong revolution.” My attempts at destroying what I believed was a stagnant, poorly executed terrorist movement landed me here, because even if I wasn’t the punisher first, someone has to be punished. I was devoted to a localized uprising that had to die before it fell into the oppressive trap of mainstream power by associating with the wrong ideas, the wrong classes. But my struggle isn’t new.
I think about the women I chose to assassinate and admitted to slaying in court not but two weeks ago – in front of mothers and fathers and husbands and children and friends. I have three months to live because I called these women to my apartment one afternoon- just picked up the phone like it should be done. I’m not insane. I feel pain when I think of them. I think of what we did as a family. Little moments of peace.” She dropped the cigarette under her slipper and leaned back.
“A handful of us worked at the sugar plant near the east side. The sunset at the horizon point there reflected on this huge set of sheet glass windows on the rooftop– it made everything warm. I felt a balance when I went there, like I was standing on the equator. Like South America. Have you ever been there? We were beginning to plan a trip to Argentina before things…”
She paused with a sigh under closed eyes.
“I fought for a freedom and that’s exactly what it cost me. Hard to face that I was a part of them, yes, but more a part of this… future that ironically I no longer have?”
Taciturn, I waited for her to answer her own question. Then her smile, that shining light, possessed of a kind of sheer magnetic power, returned briefly at the buzzer before she rose and left. She melted back into the cell of my memory now reconstructed from conflicting histories and righteous agendas. Of course I never saw her alive again, so she remains very much trapped there, in-between but whole, smiling.
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Never to Return
The room was warm. They were all seated around the fire, the children drinking hot chocolates and the adults held mulled wine. The warm, cozy atmosphere was relaxed as the children played with their presents and the adults enjoyed the opportunity to relax. They had temporarily moved to their Aunt’s house as they waited for the payment to go through for their new house.
Her Aunt’s house was huge; it was a remnant of when Cora’s family had been wealthy during the 19th century. Aunt Meredith inherited the mansion as she was Cora’s mother’s older sister. The house had a large garden, so intricately decorated one could easily get lost in it, especially on a snowy winter evening. Cora sat beside her father as he looked through the telescope he received from his wife and sister-in-law. She was fascinated by everything her father pointed out to her, she tried her hardest to recognize the constellations that now looked so different through a telescope. When Cora looked back at her mother, hoping to involve her in the stargazing, her gaze caught on her brother scribbling in the notebook she had received from her father.
“Stop drawing in my notebook Will!” Cora exclaimed. Her brother did nothing but grin toothily.
“MUM, MAKE WILL GIVE ME MY NOTEBOOK!” Cora yelled at her mother. She watched as her mother turned an expectant gaze on Will. Cora began to grin; few didn’t do what her mother wanted when she had that expression on her face. This was one of the rare times that Will was so hyped from the adrenaline he had subdued all day that he didn’t wat to do as he was told. He stood up and grinned teasingly at Cora before running quickly out the room. Cora jumped up and followed him. She had been looking forward to writing an entry in the book. She would use it as she used all her previous books. It would be used as a means of writing down her observations and ideas. This was important to her as she was a very creative person who was often scatterbrained.
They exited the house, both running as fast as possible, Cora gaining on Will until they reached the twisting maze that was the garden. Quickly, Cora lost Will. She slowed down, listening to all the sounds the garden made as the wind blew gently. Soon Cora was distracted by the beauty of the snow-covered garden around her. The snow seemed to show her the way forward, leading her further and further into the garden. She would never be able to say how long she explored, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour.
Cora found a door. It seemed to be unique, as if it belonged to another era. The door was intricately carved. It contained finely-cut stained glass which would have been vibrantly coloured at one point. The detail seemed age-worn, barely a ghost of what it once had been. Entranced, Cora traced the carved detail, all the way down to the low-set door handle. She twisted the handle, gently pulling the door open. She curiously stepped through the doorway, having not been able to see through.
The noise shocked her. She had never seen such a commotion before. There were a mass of people walking along the narrow, crowded laneway. These people were interspersed with horse-drawn carriages both simple and elaborate. The people wore clothes so varied it was almost an eyesore for Cora. There seemed to be clear distinctions between three separate classes. The lower-class wore ragged flat caps and shapeless, patched clothing. The middle-class wore semi-detailed outfits of a modest cut. The upper-class all seemed to be dressed to meet royalty, they wore brightly coloured, flamboyant outfits that seemed to part the crowd as if it were a block of butter.
Cora’s mind wandered. She absently wandered through the crowd, taking in everything she could. She was awed by the differences she kept noticing, the different architecture, the feel of the cobblestone was weird under her feet. The smooth texture the cobblestone itself was countered by the uneven surface they presented. Her reverie was broken when she stepped on a cobblestone and her ankle twisted unexpectedly. She suddenly became self-conscious and realized that everyone around her stared because of her attire. This realization dampened her mood, she quickly turned around and attempted to find her way back to the doorway she arrived through.
Cora reached the door, recognizing it by its unique detailing, more vibrant and less weathered in this era. Cora tried to open the door, but found it to be locked. After trying this several more times, she gave up. She wandered through the streets, trying to absentmindedly avoid the stares. Cora found a quiet alleyway and curled up in a ball as she wondered how she would survive this latest turn of events. In a sudden flash of inspiration, Cora remembered stories she read back home. How the hero would have to survive by stealing off others. Cora straightened up, she would have to start by being as inconspicuous as possible…
It had been three days, Cora had done well for herself, she had ‘earned’ one shilling and six pence plus several small trinkets. She had almost been caught stealing a dress, but she managed to escape the bobby*, barely. There were several times those she pickpocketed seemed to feel what was happening, but she managed to divert their attention.
That day, Cora went into the crowd again, blending in as well as she could. What she hadn’t anticipated, however, was that the stallholder she stole the dress from would recognize her. Suddenly, there was yelling and bobbies chasing her. She ran as fast as she could, weaving in and out through the crowd. Not caring where she went. She had one objective: to get away as quickly as possible.
She ducked down alleyway after alleyway until she came upon a dead end, she looked back and saw the bobbies. She didn’t know what to do, she would be caught and locked up, maybe she’d even be transported to Australia. She’d never wanted to visit that country even in her own time, how much worse would it be in this time?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a door open. If she moved now, she might be able to get in… Cora bolted for the door, slamming it closed in a bobby’s face.
Cora begins studying the house. She can’t see any sign of habitation, but something opened the door for her to enter. It’s only when she reaches what would have been the Drawing Room if the house wasn’t abandoned that she sees someone there.
“My name’s Buckle, what may your name be?” The man introduced himself.
“I am Cora. Why do you live in this du-lonely house?” She barely prevented herself insulting ‘Buckle’.
“Feel free to call this place rundown, it was hardly my place to begin with, found it around a year ago.”
“Oh. Why did you let me in?” Cora asked, curious as to his reasoning.
“You seemed lost, I once had that same look when I was young,” he replied. “I took pity on you, decided to help you best I could.”
“Okay…” Cora trailed off, still wondering why Buckle had saved her from the bobby.
“Would you like to meet the rest of us?” Buckle asked. Cora hesitated before nodding. Living with Buckle would surely be better than transportation.
For more than a week Cora stayed with them as she learnt from Buckle and his friends. They taught her the basics of etiquette, how to move more nimbly and how to blend in better. Cora often found herself overwhelmed by the barrage of information. Luckily, she had Buckle, who was a good person to talk to. He seemed to understand her more than the rest, despite how hard they tried to understand her.
Ten days after she arrived, everything started to go downhill. It started with one of the younger group members being captured by a bobby and sentenced to five years’ transportation to Australia. Later, Buckle started suffering from a headache and drowsiness. None of them thought much of it as he had been through a lot. It was four days later when the rash appeared around his mouth that everyone began panicking. Many of the group members left. The rest wouldn’t touch him. Buckle confined himself to an empty bedroom, barely even letting Cora slide food into his room and removing the plate later. The rest of the remaining group members told Cora what would happen next. Within the next few days his rash would spread. Afterwards, they would become blisters before filling with pus. He would slip into a coma and he could possibly die soon afterward.
Exactly as they stated, he steadily grew worse and worse. Within seventeen days of Cora’s arrival, Buckle died. Cora was the person who found him, the only one brave enough to peak into the room. She would never get the sight out of her mind. The group was silent when she told them the news. After a few minutes, the oldest spoke up.
“We will need to move the body and divide his possessions.” Cora was too shocked to voice her disproval of his callous manner.
They sat in a circle, the five that remained. In the center lay a small pile of knickknacks that had once belonged to Buckle. Cora sat silently as the most valuable items began to leave the pile as the group lay claim to them. She watched as one of the group took a small pouch and emptied it, hoping for something valuable. Inside lay a notebook and a small pile of shillings. The group member pocketed the shillings and placed the notebook back onto the pile.
Cora stirred from her numbness. She recognized the notebook. It was the one her brother grabbed on Christmas. She reached for it. She knew this was her notebook. Inside the notebook her name was written. Beside it was Will’s. He had put his age in there, crossing it out each year, the last one being eighteen. She broke down, crying at last.
Footnote:
*Bobby was a name given to policemen during the 19th century.
***
I posted a poem recently, and this is the story I wrote to accompany it. This one has a focus on memories, hence the plot twist which is sort of a connection to her previous life. This story sorta adds another dimension to the poem, I suppose. Honestly, I wrote this because it was due the next day and I hadn't planned my medieval story idea. I had spent all of the previous day completing my poem. This is the same story as the poem, but with more plot and detail. I tried to research as much about Victorian Era England as I could before writing this story, so this should be relatively accurate. I hope you all like this story, it is a little long as I never figured out when to stop rambling.
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RIPLEYTIVITY BABYFALLS PORTALMABEL
I had some free time and a random thought while at work today, so here: NOTES ON AN AU OF AN AU OF THE ONE SWORD AU~
Relativity Falls with Ripley and Baby!
Grunkle Dipper
THE AUTHOR OF THE JOURNALS… MY SISTER
Baby and Morty are basically an even blend of Manly Dan + Tate + Fiddleford’s roles, and are Rick and Ripley’s parents. Summer is Beth’s mom (Tambry) and Jerry is the Robbie
Rick is Wendy
Ripley is Grenda and Fidds is Candy
Soos/Abuelita roleswap, Melody is still alive grandma
Mabel came to Gravity Falls in the 70’s in order to start an artists’ commune.She becomes a fairly well-known fixture in town, even though her artist commune struggles. Dipper isn’t on bad terms with her at all, but their paths were so different that a distance grew between them, and after college Dipper became involved with the CIA in during the height of the Cold War. After a project (heavily implied to be/related to MKULTRA) left him psychologically traumatized he was summarily fired and his reputation ruined, and around the part of the timeline where Fidds was summoned he comes to join Mabel for the relative peace and quiet of small-town life.
In the meantime, we have Baby and Morty in their mid-teens during the 30-years-ago segment. Baby’s parents are straight up hippie biologists (hence ‘Baby Velociraptor Forrester’) and Morty’s parents (must ponder who, maybe just Rick and Ripley’s current parents) are pressuring him to pursue engineering. They are well-acquainted with Mabel and the Forresters are probably very supportive of her artist endeavors. Baby and Morty probably hang out there quite a bit after school, to where Mabel looks at them like lil baby siblings. Baby’s mom could be Mabel’s friend Candy Chiu, both to explain why Baby’s so good at engineering and to give Dipper a scientific partner/inventor of the memory gun in the 80’s and an old-person romance in 2012. Hal Forrester is dead lol
(This opens up a whole new can of worms regarding fidds + the memory gun, but I’m going with “That’s Bill’s design and malicious intent, the beauty of the gun is that it erases the part of his victim that would remember that”)
The Society unfolds mostly the same, although with Gideon Gleeful as a powerful member and leader now. Y I K E S
The portal was something that could originally be built by 11th-century Native Americans, apparently? So what if Mabel- great artist, mad artist- is responsible for the portal/gets sucked in? She is sort of a Brian Froud/Pickman’s Model type artist who paints and sculpts these amazing realistic renderings of otherworldly, paranormal creatures and they’re actually painted/drawn/sculpted from life. Art is basically just another type of magic.
When Mabel disappears, it’s noticed in the town, but Dipper’s been living with her for long enough that everybody knows who he is. Everyone thinks the poor man’s in denial that she’s either A. dead or B. abandoned him (mean-spirited townsfolk would gossip it’s drug-related) and REALLY nasty folk are insinuating that Dipper killed her himself to inherit her house/gallery
People come by every so often- Wendy and Pacifica quite often to check on his mental health/that he’s eating, and the Forresters are involved and the Sanchezes a tiny bit, and Dipper’s brother Tyrone and (I guess?) nephew Filbrick visit a little bit, and Dipper’s around when the Stan Twins are born, he loves those lil nuggets but is probably a lot less able to hide his depression and anxiety than Stan is so Filbrick thinks of him more as his crazy uncle than anything else. Maybe Tyrone dies when Filbrick’s very young, because I can’t imagine Tyrone teaching Filbrick to be that way, so it’s most likely a shitty stepdad situation that gets Filbrick to where he is as a person by the time the Stans are born. Filbrick and Sara send the Stans to Dipper for the summer because they’re in the process of a messy divorce, but Shermie’s just a toddler so he’s staying with their Ma.
Nobody lets anybody live in the dump.
Baby-as-Fiddleford only works in the sense of “brilliant scientist who has severe memory and mental dysfunction” as the severe memory loss was inflicted ON them (VERY recently, 10 years instead of 30) due to their continued investigations into the secrets of what’d been happening to people in town. Rick and Ripley are running a bit wild because Morty (typically not the Discipline Guy anyway) is more scatterbrained and devoting more time and energy to trying to help and take care of Baby.
Feelings: Grunkle Dipper and BB!Stan bonding over not being good at talking to girls a la Roadside Attraction
Feelings: Baby to the rescue in the Society of the Blind Eye: “My mind’s been gone for a decade, friend! You can’t break what’s already broken! SAY GOODNIGHT, GRACIE!” whommmp. Rick and Ripley with stars in their eyes.
Feelings: The Council of Ricks call this Rick Tiny Rick, try to kidnap him and give him a younger, controllable Morty, and Dad/Manly Morty beats the crap out of them.
Portal Mabel is essentially a Space Wizard.
BB!Ford is the Mabel of this situation, bonding more easily with Grunkle Dipper than Stan, whereas Portal Mabel is the one who isn’t really considering the consequences when she offers an artist apprenticeship to Stan.
Grunkle Dipper says “OH MY STARS AND GARTERS”
Grenda is Tyler Cutebiker (Enthusiasm Enthusiast)
For extra fuckin creepy points: Gideon’s creepy obsession with Baby because Baby’s closer in age than Mabel is, despite the fact that he’s erased Baby’s memory, and Bud’s creepy obsession with Ripley.
The whole Cipher Wheel would have to be different though…
Also I want Bill Cipher to stay 100000000000000000 dimensions away from these people at all times
(BUT. HE DOESN’T. SO. THERE IS THAT.)
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