#and the boy had the hair and eye colors inverted but i tried this up and it grew on me incredibly fast

[moonyistired]

behold, a straight couple (context)

[pyromaniacldrt]

Heyyy so, I've been listening to The Epic musical lately and I came up with some designs for the gods:)

I call it the God saga, I'll make the ppl+ monsters later

plus some Artemis and Dyonisus because I love them and I didn't want to leave blank spaces.

Rambling below👇

Okay, first we have Athena and Ares, as well as Hermes and Eolious(she was my first design, but I'm not a big fan of it). I liked a lot making Ares helmet:), and I thought of giving Athena a cape made of feathers that could work as wings!

I really liked the designs of Hermes were his eyes didn't appear (credits to @gigizetz for the idea!) and while I wanted to do something similar, I tried to make my own thing by using a blindfold instead. Plus, I made him look more humanlike to have a more obvious parentage with Ody.

Then we have Hera and Zeussy. I really liked her design, it screamed Classy Queen to me, and while drawing her I felt she was about to start singing at any moment. While making her hair I remembered my little pony Equestria girls, and I was like "I have to make her hair look like a cow's tail". I wanted to give her some sort of chal to make the colors more appealing, but it didn't come out well... On the other hand, my design of Zeus is exactly how I pictured him. He looks like a bodybuilder, unlike Ares, who looks like a powerhouse. I wanted to make Zeus look like someone who cares more about his appearance than about practicality, which can be seen in his clothes, skin, pose and crown. Plus, I made it look red so it would stand out and get everyone's attention. Also I made him wing tattoos because I can.

Then we have Apollo and Aphrodite! I didn't really put too much though when making him. I just gave him kind of a sun crown(?), Green eyes to represent Artemis, a Hyacinth and laurels. I think he'd be the type to carry his exes around.

Then we have Aphrodite, and boy do I love her design! Originally she was going to be blond w/ pink flowers, but her being a redhead suits her a lot. If I have to be honest, I never drew characters with little to no clothes on, and I was embarrassed at first of making her, but even if there was the option of giving her clothes, it wouldn't feel like the vision of Aphrodite I had at all. I was inspired mainly by the Hades games when I made her, Hermes and Zeus, and I don't regret it tbh. I also gave her pigeons!

Now we have Circe and Poseidon, who I think are my faves. When I was thinking of making her, I was heavily inspired by both @gigizetz Circe, young Shakira and Esmeralda from the hunchback of Notre Dame. I also wanted her to have a crazy bunch of tattoos, each for every single spell she casted. I also liked to give her the inverted heart earrings to make some foreshadowing.

Now, POSEIDON. Boy do I like how it turned out. I mean- the Clothes? The crown? The algae hair? The thing in his fingers!? And let's not talk about the seashell for a beard. I love it. It's interesting and intimidating and I would believe it if you told me this is the mighty sea god. Also, his skin was heavily inspired by @gigizetz like many of my designs. Are you perhaps a muse or smt?

Then we have Calypso. Gosh her design turned out really good. The top of her clothes are of the same "outfit" you could say, these being from back when she was sent to the island. Then she made her own lower dress. I think if someone stayed so long in that place, they would make a lot of seashell adornments to pass time. I covered her eyes for three things: one, so Ody doesn't notice she is a Titaness; two, to symbolize how love-blind she is, and three, to also symbolize how she ignores Odysseus's problems and makes a "blind eye" about it.

And Finally, Hephaestus. I redesinged him so many times it feels like a crime. I'm not even sure if I liked the final result, but there's definitely many things I liked. One of them is the tattoo (I'm making a lot of them lately), the hairstyle and the sling on his leg. Still, I'm not sure why he feels so... Simple. I mean, he's the god of forges, fire and FREAKING VOLCANOES. Yet, this feels like I only took the "forges" part.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed if you made it this far:)

[half-deadmagicperson]

Hope you don't mind me adding to this! I got inspired lol

Edit: Warning Major Character Death (cause Danny)

   A boy was lying on the tile floor of his parents' lab. Heavy breaths heaved out of his chest. The portal must've flung him after the initial blast. His body was charred beyond recognition. Weak blue eyes cried as they gazed at rubble. The boy breathed his last.

   Danny bolted upright with a start. He felt lighter than normal. That nap must've really helped him. He noticed the portal. That is a mess and a half. Danny glanced around the lab until he noticed something to his right.

    A charred corpse laid still on the ground. Pieces of white jumpsuit material were fused with the body's surface. Lifeless blue eyes stared at the portal. Upon further inspection, Danny came to the horrible realization that this corpse wasn't random, but it was his own.

   Danny sprinted, or at least he thought he was sprinting, up to the bathroom. It was only when he reached the bathroom mirror that he realized he was actually floating a good foot off the ground. He tried his best to float down enough to see himself clearly.

   The first thing he noticed was the toxic green eyes which greeted him when he floated down to 3 in. Snow white hair had replaced his dark raven locks. His skin was now a sickly green. It took Danny a bit to notice that his jumpsuit colors had inverted, but it wasn't as drastic of a change. What will his parents think if they see this? Shit! His parents! They can't find out about this!

    "What am I gonna do!" His voice was other worldly with an ethereal echo.

    Danny flew back down to the lab, incidentally through the walls as well. He has about four hours until the rest of his family comes home. Grabbing his remains, he quickly set off into the woods.

    Danny forgot a shovel. His hand smacked his face for his stupidity. Maybe he could like phase it through the ground? Danny grabbed his former arm and willed  it to sink into the ground. Thankfully, the corpse followed him down to near bedrock. 

    Danny reemerged from the ground. He placed a rock by the burial site to remember where he kept it. Time to fix his appearance. 

   After flying back to the house, Danny threw on a baggy hoodie and used some of his mom's makeup to make his skin less green. He grabbed a wad of cash from his piggy bank and headed down to the store.

    While he was at the store, he bought black dye, more makeup, and some blue contacts he found, which hopefully aren't too sketchy. Luckily, it was near Halloween so he could find stuff like that. He went to pay for his stuff when he realized that he still had to cover up the floating. The lowest he could go without straining himself was three inches above the ground. 

    Danny had an idea. He paid for his stuff before heading down to Skulk and Lurk. His friend, Sam, gets her platforms here. He grabbed a pair his size that were three inches tall. Perfect.

    Upon returning to the house, Danny got to work. He started by dying his hair. He was very careful to avoid staining the bathroom and even hid the box instead of throwing it away. His hair felt cold and silky to the touch, very different from what it was before.

   From hair, he moved on to makeup. He smeared the foundation all over his face in an attempt to hide his new complection. He struggled a bit with the ears, but eventually he got it. He worked on covering his neck and hands as well. He looked in the mirror and made sure he looked some semblance of human. 

   The final part of his disguise was the blue contacts. Danny was a bit squeamish about putting stuff that close to his eye, but if he was gonna pass as human he's gotta do it. It took a bit to figure out how to stick the lense in. Not gonna lie it was very uncomfortable and foreign, but he sucked it out and dealt with it.

   He looked in the mirror and smiled. Perfect! Hopefully he'll be able to get by with this. His heightened senses heard the keys fiddle in the front door. Time to test that theory.

    He phased into the lab when his family entered.

   "Danny! We're home!" His dad's voice sounded from the living room. Danny took some of the soot from the floor and spread it around on him. He ruffled his already floaty hair and faked a groggy walk up the lab stairs.

   "Danny? What happened?" His mom asked upon spotting him. She ran up to him and checked him over, only to pull her hand back with how cold Danny was to the touch.

   Danny went to reply but remembered how his voice isn't normal anymore. His hands moved to ask for pen and paper. Maddie Fenton, concerned for her son, quickly complied.

    Danny wrote that he heard some weird noises coming from the lab and he went to check it out. He said that it was the portal and it looked like it was gonna blow, but before he could escape, it blew up. He also said his throat hurt, and he might not be able to talk until it gets better.

    It was the perfect lie. His parents believed him. They'll never know of his stupid curiosity getting the better of him. They'll never know their little boy died and became something else.

   Danny's mom told him to go clean up. He went up to the bathroom and washed the soot off before reapplying his makeup. 

    His dinner consisted of soup that was probably stored next to the ectoplasm again. At least it wasn't alive this time. Surprisingly, the contaminated food was good. Like really good. The liquid felt rejuvenating as it trickled down his throat. He was pretty sure he didn't have a stomach anymore, but it seems he can keep down some human food. Ectoplasm should probably become a bigger part of his diet.

    

    The next day was Monday, meaning he had school. Danny was not looking forward to it. His new traits were gonna be a lot harder to hide with Dash breathing down his neck. 

    His alarm rang like usual. Danny slammed it off. He hadn't slept. Not really. His body went into a more restful state, true, but he was wide awake. He felt fine though. Guess ghosts don't sleep. He floated out of his bed and threw on his baggy clothes. 

    Using the mirror in his room, he applied his makeup and contacts. He tied the laces on his new kicks before heading downstairs. He ate his breakfast which happened to be the living sausages from the day before. While making his lunch, he grabbed one of the vials of ecto and poured it into his water bottle. 

     Danny waved goodbye before heading out with his sister. Jazz took her car while Danny waited for his friends Sam and Tucker. He spotted the form of a goth with platforms as tall as Danny's as well as a shorter guy hunched over his PDA.

    Danny had messaged his friends the day before saying his throat hurt too much to talk. Today he waved to them and wrote greetings on a little white board he found. 

    The trio walked to school and started to get ready for their first class. Danny grabbed his books and closed his locker to be greeted by the nasty face of one Dash Baxter.

   He wrote 'Hi Dash' on his board. Dash looked at the board and looked back at Danny.

   "Cat got your tongue, Fen-twerp?" Dash mocked. Danny scribbled down a quick explanation that his throat got injured.

   "Well! Since your throat's temporarily out of commission, no one can hear you scream!" 

    Dash pulled Danny up by the collar of his shirt and began wailing. Honestly, it didn't hurt as bad as it used to. Maybe being dead had some perks. 

    The bully finished his routine by shoving Danny into his locker. 

    Danny waited until the hallway was quiet before attempting to phase through the locker door. He needs to reapply his makeup.

   "Mr. Fenton so glad you can join us," his teacher, Mr Lancer, greeted him. A snickering could be heard from where the A-listers sat. Danny moved to sit by Sam and Tucker.

    When asked by his friends about what happened, he simply wrote 'Dash'. The rest of school went pretty smoothly. Sam complimented him on his platforms. She spent lunch trying to convince Tucker to join them in dressing in an alt aesthetic. 

    After school, Danny walked with his friends to head home. The first part of the walk was uneventful. Danny heard some footsteps approach from behind. He whipped around to see a fist head straight towards his face. 

    He ducked. Sam stomped the guy's foot with her boots. Muggar number one was done, but not before another grabbed Tucker in a choke hold. 

   "Give us your money or the boy gets it!" 

   Sam went to retaliate, but Danny gently pushed her behind him and stepped forward. A green glow brightened from behind his contacts.

   "Let him go," his voice was quiet and staticy. It sounded close to a sore throat that it wasn't too unearthly.

   The muggar instead went and tightened his hold on Tucker. Danny snapped. His voice rang out like a sonic boom. The windows nearby shattered. The guy quickly dropped Tucker in favor of covering his ears. Tucker clenched his own ears.

  "STOPPPP!!!!"

     The dust cleared and everyone around Danny was passed out.

Danny phantom au where he actually fully dies in the portal but it doesn't actual open it just kinda. Explodes. So he's a ghost but doesn't have to fight other ghosts, but he decided to pretend to be human so he's constantly dying his white hair black, putting blue contacts in, and wearing makeup to cover his blue skin, he wears baggy clothes to attempt to cover up the glow and as much akin to avoid anyone realizing how cold he is. He claims that his vocal cords were damaged in the blast so he can't talk but it's actually just the echo. I dunno how he would be able to hide the floating but he finds a way

[huffle-dork]

Switch Swap Crossover (Swapboys AU/Switch AU)

AN: Hello all! You know how much I adore @crystalninjaphoenix ‘s aus- especially Switch! And since they did a crossover for Inverted and Swap- I thought it was my turn to do a crossover! And it’s also their birthday present! Happy birthday Cry! Expect more in the future cuz I got ideas >:3c hope y’all enjoy!

Read Switch | Read Swapboys | Read Cry’s Crossover Series

Chapter 1: Here we go Again?

The room was spinning even with his eyes closed. Ringing was so loud in his ears it made everything spin twice as fast. He felt weak and spent and- was he laying on the floor? Sure felt like it.

Jameson Jackson groaned as the world came back to him with a painful jolt. Taking a pained gasp in- the world came back into full color and noise in an explosion of the senses. He felt panic gripping his heart as he tried to remember how he got here.

They were in the Aspen Street House- facing off with Distorter. He had gotten Marvin again… but Jackie had just managed to pull him out of it. The gentleman was seriously losing blood from his eyes and he was weak from the influence. Meanwhile- Anti and Volt weren’t letting the fucker go anywhere without a fight. Jameson too… and this time he brought help. A magic amplifying stone from Aoife- though neither of them were quite sure what it was meant to do. But, now seemed as good a time as any.

He has channeled his magic into the stone, ready to send out a blast towards Distorter. But then… the walls of the house started to glow and hum with power. The air started to swell with magic- pressure settling down on everyone. Then, each of the people present in the house started to glow like the walls.

“Jackson, what did you do?!” Anti tries to call out, sounding alarmed.

But that was the last thing JJ heard before everything went completely blue.

Now… all he can see is blue again. But- it’s more blue-green… buzzing with electricity. And… glitching? It sounded like a computer.

Speaking of sounds- he can hear familiar shouting to his left.

“Oh you fuckers just wait! I got several knives with your names on them!” Anti was spitting.

Volt was trying to keep his voice level and quiet- but he had that hero tone in his voice. “Anti- stand down… we do not know-“

“You keep threatening us and the shield ain’t going anywhere, bitch!” A new voice called out- sounding raked with the same glitches that buzzed around the magic in air.

Jj pulled himself up right and tried to focus. Through the blue-green magic- it looks like they are in… an office? Or a very corporate looking loft space at the very least. a huge L shaped couch was taking up most of the space. There’s what sounds like a TV behind them, playing parts of a movie. Popcorn is littered on the ground in front of them.

But most importantly- there’s a group of men standing right outside the shield.

The most prominent one is whoever is making the magic it seems. He seems- younger almost. Scrawny build that’s hidden behind clothes that are too big for him. A bandana with a stitched smiley face sits around his neck. He has his hand outstretched to keep the magic going but he himself seems to be glitching too. But… most striking of all…

He looks exactly like Anti. Well… minus the freckles and completely brown hair.

Jameson looks at his companion to his side- where he heard his voice and balks at seeing Anti here in the shield with him… then- who the hell?

The boy with the magic is looking more enraged by the second, but- his eyes give away fear.

“I-I ain’t fucking around so- you guys better tell us who the fuck you are and why you’re here or-!”

“Or what? You gotta throw more shields at us?” Anti snarks, crossing his arms. “Oh yeah I’m soooo scared! Face me like a real man, motherfucker- I’ll even give you a knife to borrow so it’s fair!”

“F-Friends, please! There is no need for violences!” A thick German accented voice calls out. But… that’s not Volt- the hero would never sound so meek and unsure.

And sure enough, Volt is here in the bubble, trying to hold Anti back from attacking the shield.

But- back on the other side… Jameson can see the call came from a tall tealed-haired gentleman in a bright blue suit. He- has the same vibe as Marvin… but he looks exactly like Schneep.

What was going on?

“I’m with Hen you guys- I do not need more blood on this carpet- you and Bro already drive my cleaning bill through the roof, Alt.” Another voice joins in. Jameson looks and jumps- seeing it’s the spitting image of Jackie! But- boy this one looks even more tired then the doctor… and a lot more casual- wearing a red hoodie with the YouTube logo on it and no glasses. Superhero parkour… what was that?

Jameson looks around and can’t help but jump again as he sees the actual Jackie- Dr. Parker- quietly taking all this in to his right. The doctor waves slightly at Jameson with a tight smile before looking back at the chaos.

The magician- Alt, if Jameson had to guess, blushed at the other Jackie’s remark. “S-Shut up! Fuck, where is he anyways?”

There’s a quiet cough to announce someone new. Alt glances their way-

“He was in the bathroom before this began I believe…” Came a signed reply.

Jameson’s stomach dropped as he looked towards the signing hands and- stared back at himself. But- this guy was… more put together in a sense. He was smartly dressed- like a therapist almost. He had round glasses and a kind face- and even though he looked extremely tired, was unusually calm despite all of this.

Jameson’s head spun… what was going on?? He gripped at his hair.

Volt and Anti looked towards the movement. Volt seemed to relax slightly, “Oh good you’re okay…”

“Jackson! Show this bitch real fucking magic!” Anti hissed, still glaring down his doppelgänger. “He looks like one good blast can knock him over!”

Alt grits his teeth, his hair flying up in an unseen wind as his eyes light up brighter. “I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you, imposter.”

“You’re the fucking imposter!” Anti snapped, fighting against Volt again. Volt gritted his teeth and tried to keep the programmer back.

“Anti- ver damnit! Take a second to calm down!”

The magic in the shield sputters as the kid suddenly and physically glitches- the image of him almost splitting apart before snapping back together. He looks pale.

“W-What did you just call him?” He seems to whisper in dawning horror.

Volt is slow to respond, “Anti… that is his name.”

“Y-You’re lying-“

Anti grits his teeth, “that’s my fucking name, asshole! What’s it to you?! You got a problem with that?”

Alt’s magic increases- the air tasting like metal as he glitches more.

“T-That can’t be your name- that’s my name!” The boy shouts, hand shaking.

Jameson’s eyes widen- and he sees Anti and Volt’s do the same. It’d be something else entirely if they had a more common name… but they both go by Anti- and look almost identical.

Anti frowns, “didn’t that guy just call you Alt-“

The magic suddenly shrinks around them, the air getting darker and more swamped with glitches.

“S-Shut up! All of you shut up!!” Alt screeches, looking more and more unhinged. “N-None of you are going anywhere-!”

“Y-You can’t just keep us here!” Dr. Parker finally speaks, “in fact- you- you have to let us out. One of our friends is missing and he’s injured!”

Jameson’s stomach drops. Oh god…

Where was Marvin?

The other Jackie braved through some of the chaotic magic to get to Alt’s side and puts a hand on his shoulder. “A-Alt! I know what this looks like- but please- you gotta calm down! We have no idea if it’s like last time!”

“I don’t want to take any fucking chances-“ Alt barked, eyes alive with sparking electrcity. “I won’t be tricked- not again!”

“Alt please- we should be giving them the benefit of the doubt, yes?” The teal haired gentleman offered.

Alt grit his teeth, “that’s what happened last time- and I’m not putting any of us through that again!”

He looked really really scared under all that rage.

Jameson looked towards the sparking magic of the shield. He presses light fingers to the surface. Despite its pulsing chaotic nature- it actually felt quite fragile. It was not magically sound. An unpracticed display hardly kept together by its own chaotic nature. Jameson carefully came forward- then pushed his own magic against the barrier.

The shield shattered like glass in an instant. But before all hell broke loose, Jameson got to his feet and sent out a blast of cold air to stop everyone in their tracks and get their attention. He coughed then signed.

“First, let’s even the playing field, shall we?”

Tensions rose- especially between the two Antis as both parties tried to keep them from going at each other.

One figure though seemed absolutely delighted by Jameson’s statement.

The tealed-haired gentleman sprung forward, his eyes aglow with what can only be described as childhood wonder. “Mein gott! You also know sign!”

He quickly signed to Jameson, effectively putting himself between the feud but- calming it somehow. Probably because he seemed to have no malicious intent.

“Hello, new friend! My name is Henrik von Schneeplestein! It is nice to meet you! I very much like your mask!”

Jameson gasps and hears another one join him. He looks to Volt- who seems to have paled. He looks to Jamie and mouths, “Did I read that correctly?” Jameson gives him a hesitant nod.

Volt coughs then points to himself. “Ah���I… I should probably not give out my identity but… given the circumstances… I am also Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

The other Henrik gasps, “Another Henrik? Oh it is so rare to meet others!” The gentleman seems to study his face for a second, “… you have an accent- it is also German?”

Volt seems to stiffen slightly, and looks a bit confused. “Ja?” He replies shortly.

The other Jameson steps up and clears his throat, placing his hand on the other Henrik’s shoulder before starting to sign too. “Please excuse my friend if he seemed rude. He’s hard of hearing- he’s gotten better with his hearing aid but- these things often escape him.”

The kindly man then looks and meets eyes with Jameson again, and smiles.

“I’m assuming… you also go by Jameson? Jameson Jackson?”

Jj slowly nods, then smiles and goes to bow slightly with his cape. “Unless I’m on stage- then it’s the Jaunty Jackson!”

The other jameson laughs quietly and nods with a smile. “A fine stage name! If that’s the case- you all can refer to me as Dr.J.”

“Are we really just- introducing ourselves right now?!” Anti growls, but Volt just keeps him in his arms, studying the groups with a calculating eye.

His Jackie stands up- and makes eye contact with the other one holding back Alt.

“Are you… also Jackie then? Jackie Parker?”

The other Jackie blinks then shakes his head with a smile, “Jackie Mann. Close though!” As he says this- The doctor can see the flash of something gold on his finger- similar to a matching band on his own hand.

“You’re married- does your partner… call you Jackieboy?”

The other Jackie’s eyes widen, “w-whoa- how did you-?”

“My partner does too.” The doctor smiles.

“That’s also the nickname of my YouTube persona- thanks to my wife.” Jackie Mann grins with a laugh, looking proud.

Then- suddenly there’s a snap like a power cable is cut and Alt glitches out of Jackie’s grip and in front of Jameson.

“Okay enough! This ain’t just a casual-meet-up-feel-good-time! I need fucking answers!”

Alt grabs Jameson by his collar and drags him forward. “Who are you people? And why are you here? Are you here to fuck with our minds? Kill us and replace us?”

Jameson quickly shakes his head and waves his hands before signing. “We want to do no such thing, I promise! We- we have no idea how we got here! I just used something new with my magic and- next thing we know I woke up here! That’s all!”

Anti cried out and tried to charge at Alt and Volt was having a hard time keeping him back down, “f-fucking bitch! Let him go!”

And Alt did- almost instantly. But he still glitched back and eyed the others down with a skeptic eye.

“…how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Maybe cuz this is all fucking insane? Why would we lie about something like this?” Anti spit.

Alt glares at Anti then sighs, looking behind them. “…I want Bro’s opinion- where the fuck is he?”

Bro Fantastic was stuck in a nightmare. A horrible nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from.

And the nightmare was staring back at him- an unshakable grin on its face as it approached Chase. Tilting its head like a curious animal.

“Well… isn’t this interesting?” The monster laughed, blood dripping down its face. Chase felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“What… are you?” Chase whispered, shakily trying to find something to hold- he couldn’t feel his knees.

Because… even though his mind was starting to fuzz over with gray and it was hard to concentrate…

He knew his own face- especially when it was staring right back at him.

“Mmm scared to speak the truth out loud, Chaser?” The bleeding copy giggled, getting up in Chase’s face, dripping blood on his shirt.

“N-No! Stop it!” Bro shouted, scrambling backwards- he didn’t wanna touch this thing.

The monstrous doppelgänger laughed cruelly, “Wowww! Who’d have thought you’d be such a coward? Kinda pathetic really? What? you scared of me~?” He stepped up and then cracked his neck loudly, tilting it at an unnatural angle. And that’s when Chase can see the blood cascading down the side of his head.

“I-I’m not scared!” Bro tries to argue, but his shaking hands are giving him away. He- he can’t even summon his powers- the edges of his vision are graying out, the room around him looking fuzzy. Ringing is overtaking his ears.

“There’s no reason to be scared…” The copy cooed out in a suddenly calm and smooth voice. He got close to Bro again and the hero was running out of places to run. “In fact… I think the two of us could be great friends.”

The gray figure shot out its hand and grabbed Chase’s neck, pulling him close. Were his nails always so sharp? Chase tries to pull away as the gray takes over more and more of his vision.

“I think… we could get to know each other real well~” the creature whispered, its impossibly wide grin getting even wider.

Chase’s blood was pounding in his ears. He felt something heavy in his hands. Something he never ever tries to use.

The gun feels wrong- yet he finds himself gripping it tighter.

The figure is no longer in front of him- and now Chase is facing the mirror. He meets his reflection’s wide gray eyes, streams of blood falling from them. His hand shakingly starts to rise. The cool feeling of metal hits the side of his head before he even registers the sight of it in the mirror. His hands are trembling and he’s hyperventilating- yet his reflection stares at him stoically. Then- its eyes turn black and the reflection grins wide as it whispers. “Do it.”

The sound of a gunshot goes off.

And then- Chase opens his eyes with a cry, springing back and hitting his head against the bathroom wall. He pants, quickly feeling his head and- oh god oh god did he just-?!

But… there’s no blood there. There’s- no sign that anything he just saw was real… he swallows shakily and then goes to splash water on his face.

What the fuck was that? He… can’t get that creature’s face out of his mind…

He hears the commotion outside and shakes it off- quickly rushing back out towards his friends.

And his reflection watches him go, grinning ear to ear.

Bro bursts into the room, looking pale like he’s seen a ghost. He’s panting like he just ran a marathon.

“Woah Chase! Are you okay?” Jackie calls out, going to put a hand on Bro’s shoulder. The hero shakes himself out and nods.

“Y-Yeah fine…” He takes in that there’s double the people in here now- all looking at him. He blinks and then looks back at the room he just came from. “…Jesus, how long was I in there?”

“Too long man, what the hell were you doing?” Alt growls.

Bro rubs the back of his head. “Uh… well you know-“

Alt pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “okay let’s just- catch you up…”

He points at the others and explains, “We got doppelgängers again- another Anti- a Schneep, a Jj and a Jackie.” Alt points to each respective person and they all react in kind, either waving or just acknowledging the hero.

Bro blinks, “well- hi there! Uhh welcome? I’m Bro Fantastic- but… you guys can call me Chase.”

Alt elbows Chase and gives him a ‘wtf’ look. Chase blinks and gives Alt a confused look back.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Introducing myself?”

“And giving away your name to complete strangers?”

“…who are clearly your guys’ doppelgängers-“

“Yeah! They could be evil like those last guys!”

Chase looks at the relatively calm group of guys- except the goth looking one. He’s kinda scary but- doesn’t look evil.

“…I don’t think they are Alt-“

“I thought the same thing last time and they fucked with my mind, remember?!” Alt explains in exasperation.

“Only cuz you were too stubborn to listen to the first person who actually wanted to help you.” Chase retorted, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow down at Alt. Alt sputters and then turns away, his face bright red. He quickly hides it under his mask.

Bro looks at the others with an apologetic smile, “Sorry about my brother. He’s… a bit paranoid about these things.”

The others look at their Anti with wide eyes. Anti shakes his head. “D-Don’t look at me! I don’t have a brother!”

Jj looks back at the hero and signs, “I’m guessing this isn’t the first time something like this has happened?”

Bro laughs, “It’s never happened in our town no… but we’ve been in a similar situation.”

Jackie sighed and crossed his arms, “Still not sure how it happened but- we blinked and suddenly we were in another city where there was like… inverted versions of us. All of them were fuckers- except that Anti dude. He was chill.”

Alt mutters from under his mask, “My… former boss is also obsessed with the concept of the ‘multiverse’. Guess it was only a matter of time until something freaky like this happened…”

Volt knits his eyebrows together in confusion, “I guess it is not impossible… but very improbable.”

“Not if there’s magic involved!” Jameson adds with a smile. But then- his smile falls. Magic-

“Wait, we still need to figure out where Marvin is! He was hurt, wasn’t he?”

Dr. Jackie nodded, looking anxious as he adjusted his glasses. “Yeah he was delirious and losing blood from Distorter’s control…”

“Dis…tor-ter?” The other Henrik asked, sounding out the word carefully, having trouble reading the doctor’s lips, “Who is that?”

“This mother fucking… thing that’s been tormenting us for god knows how long-“ Anti muttered. “A fucking gray and bleeding eyed motherfucker- who messes with your head and makes you see things.”

Bro paled, feeling a chill run up his spine. Just like… what he saw in the bathroom, right? Why was it suddenly so hard to remember it exactly? All except… that face.

“I’m sorry-“ Jackie’s voice breaks Chase out of his thoughts, “Did you guys say your friend’s name was Marvin?”

Jameson nods.

Jackie bites his lip and looks around, “oh boy… okay so- if you all ended up here in front of us… and… Chase- nobody just appeared next to you did they?”

“N-No!” Chase blurts out- probably too fast. His ears turn pink. “I… I didn’t see anyone no-“

“Huh… strange- guess their universe doesn’t have a Chase…”

“But anyways- if that’s the case… I think your Marvin might be… with ours.”

“And…why do you sound so nervous about that?” Jameson asks with hesitation.

Jackie and Alt exchange looks before Alt explains slowly.

“Let’s just say… Magnificent isn’t the best bitch to be stuck with. If this Distorter guy is the one who tortures you guys… then ours would be him. Ours is Magnificent.”

———

Marvin goes flying across the warehouse floor, tumbling and skidding against the concrete like roadkill. He coughs and tries to struggle up- god… where was his cane?

The bitch that threw him loomed over him and laughed wildly, multicolored static flickering behind him in a burst of power.

“Pathetic! Are you truly my counterpart? I would have expected another me to have more fight in him!”

Marvin spit out blood and wiped at his face, trying to catch his breath.

“Yer not really givin’ me a chance to, are ya?” He growls, shakily trying to get to his feet.

The mad magician scoffs, looking his copy up and down with distaste plain on his face. Like he was looking at a bug or gum on the bottom of his shoe.

“I could tell by just looking at you. You’re not even worth my time… not an ounce of magic in you.” He sighs dramatically and throws out his hands, turning from the other and flaring out his cape. “The universe is a cruel mistress! Finally, she brings me something I’ve been searching for- but it falls just short!”

Marvin laughs as he holds himself up against the wall, “Maybe if ya played nicer, the universe would have rewarded ya. Sounds like you just decided to be a bitch t’ough-“

The magician sighs and shakes his head. He turns a glowing eye to look back at the pathetic copy. Then, he teleports so he’s right in front of him and grabs him by the lapel before slamming him back against the wall. Marvin cries out and tries to struggle. The magician’s gaze makes him feel like a cornered creature being studied for science.

“You’d be useless as a puppet to me…” The mad man muses, lifting up Marvin’s chin and twisting it with his claws. “I can feel someone has already laid claim to your mind anyways… too messy to destroy right now.”

His cat-like eyes spark with mischief and he grins, showing sharp canines. “However… you might make a fine addition to my… feline collection~”

“T-the hell I won’t! I ain’t bein’ a part of anyone's collection! And I already have a cat, t’ank you very much!” Marvin protests, fighting in the magician’s grip even harder.

The magician laughs and forces Marvin to look up at him. Then, he snaps and a spiral of purple and green appears in front of Marvin’s eyes. The gentleman’s breath hitches, his body trying to tense up. But it just as easily starts to fall limp, hands slipping off the magician’s and falling to his side. His head falls back against the wall behind him, lips parting to exhale softly as his eyes fall to half mast.

The magician giggles softly before cooing to Marvin, “Very good, pet. Just let it take you… down… down… down…no more pesky thoughts, Hm? There’s no need for any more of those… human thoughts just get in the way… wouldn’t you agree?”

Marvin finds himself numbly nodding.

The magician grins, madness alight in those spiraling eyes. “Mmm yes… much too messy. Too easy for someone else to grab… I’m going to make your life so much better, Marvin… as my pet, you’ll be free. Free from this weak body of yours… free from the limitations put on you. You’ll even have two more good legs! Now… doesn’t that sound nice?”

Marvin finds himself slurring out a sloppy, “yes…”, eyelids fluttering.

The mad man chuckles. “Use your words, kitten, and ask properly. My name should already be on your tongue…

Let your last spoken words sing my praises. Tell me this is what you want, puppet~ Would you like to live out the rest of your days as my simple little kitty pet?”

Marvin’s mind is completely blank. His eyes start to shift to something slitted- something purely feline. It’s hard to get his lips to move- words already seem so hard and unnecessary.

“Yessss Magnificenttt…” Marvin purrs, eyes nearly shut as a blissful smile curls on his lips.

Magnificent grins, “Excellent kitten… let’s get your body to match your mind now, shall we?”

The mad magician then pumps Marvin’s body full of magic. Marvin screams- bones cracking and being rearranged by the burning heat of the magic. It feels agonizing- like being compressed into a tight space.

If Marvin could think- he’d probably be terrified. But, luckily, only his body reacted to the pain. His mind was blank still, untouched.

The transformation ends and out of the sparking magic- is a large brown and cream Norwegian forest cat. It’s soft blue eyes blink up at its master and it meows softly, before going to lick its paw.

Magnificent tsks, “Damnit. Too much personality left in tact. Well… they’re not all winners at the start.” He sighs. He then scoops up the cat and starts to pet it kindly. The cat stares out, as if trying to process something- trying to fire off some kind of thought in its head. But- Magnificent’s soft pets seem to drive off those thoughts and it starts to purr, slumping in his arms.

“Trying to get those human thoughts back, Hm? A valiant effort I’ll say~” Magnificent hummed in amusement. It was always so fun to see them attempt to struggle. “Worry not, kitten… I’ll get you trained… and we’ll get you into a proper appearance in no time~ just like my other lovely pets!”

The madman looks behind him and grins at the dozens of obedient green eyes that grin back at him from the dark.

He then looks back at the cat in his arms and thinks out loud, “or perhaps… keeping you like this could be like a trophy of sorts… like how I planned to keep my cub.” He hummed, the feeling of defeat still stark in his mouth. But- that feeling did remind him.

“Oh yes! Before we do anything more… we must get rid of that awful name of yours. In fact… I’ll be glad to never hear that name again-“ Magnificent growls. He snaps his fingers- and creates another spiral in front of the kitten that instantly captures its attention. It sits up straight, slitted eyes transfixed on the magic, mind completely blanking again.

“Now then… what shall your new name be…?”

“Marvin!” A voice suddenly shouted.

Magnificent turns around to growl, eyes bright with magic. “Who dares to-?!”

A bullet rips through the magician’s shoulder, throwing him back and knocking the cat out of his grasp. The kitten skips like a rock before stilling, staring out blankly. Then- light seems to come back to its eyes. Human light. It quickly gets back to its feet and shakes itself off. That’s… when he starts to panic- taking in his paws and smaller appearance. He starts to turn around in disbelief, yowling in distress. He doesn’t fully step down on his back leg though.

Anti steps into the warehouse and glares at Magnificent, keeping his gun aimed at the magician. “Alright freakshow- where the fuck is our friend?!”

Magnificent clutches at his shot shoulder- the air around him bending and shifting like hot summer air. He laughs, sounding unhinged. “Haha! A new face in my lair… how amusing!” He studies Anti and then teleports in front of him, eyes sparking with intrigue. “But… somehow still a familiar face… you look just like my favorite cub, puppet.”

Anti’s aim falters as he scrambles back, resting his hand at the butt of the gun to keep it steady. “B-Back off! We just want our friend back then we’ll be out of your freaky hair!”

“Is that all?” Magnificent chuckles with amusement. “You’ve come a long way from home… why don’t you stick with me and I’ll make you all feel so welcomed! …just like I did with Marvin~”

“I fucking knew it! Where is he, cocksucker? What did you do to him?!”

Magnificent's eyes flashed dangerously, “The same thing I’m about to do to you.”

He shoots out a hand towards Anti- purple and green electricity heading straight for him.

When suddenly, a shield shoots up and blocks the magic, chipping like it’s made of ice.

The newcomer, Jameson, looks to Anti and gestures to where that cat is still freaking out. Anti gives Jameson a look. Jameson rolls his eyes and signs something quick to Anti. Finally, the other boy seems to nod- but he looks super weirded out by the whole situation.

Magnificent’s eyes light up hungrily at the sight of the new magician. He grins, approaching the barrier with practiced grace, his walk like that of an actor on stage.

“A fresh magician too! Mayhaps the universe has decided to be kind to me after all!” He laughs.

Jameson glares at the other magician with burning blue eyes.

“Ohhh the silent type…” Magnificent observes with a crooked smile. “How rare that is in these parts…”

He teleports behind Jameson- then pushes the other magician up against the icy shield, grinning like a predator over him.

“What refined magic you have!” Magnificent giggles with glee, “What a marvel it is to see such… careful practice put back into magic~” The mad man leans in, hungry for just a taste of this boy’s magic- his fingers light up with purple.

Jameson quickly shoves a hand in Magnificent’s face and sends a blast of ice at him. A thick chunk freezes with Mag’s head inside. He yells in rage and tries to claw it off- he can’t see!

“Now!” Jameson yells hoarsely, pushing away from the magician and running towards the exit, “Run!!”

Anti uses the mad magician’s confusion to scoop up the cat and rushes towards the door after Jameson.

“I hope you’re right about this, Jackson! Or this will be real awkward to patch up later!”

The last thing they hear before reaching the others is the sound of Magnificent’s wild cry of rage.

Magnificent breaks off the ice and slams his fist into the wall, cursing in Latin. But, soon he takes a deep breath and calms down. That magician…

Oh it’s gonna be so fun to make him his.

[To be Continued~]

[shingia]

hello I saw the request for fluff so here I am with a very self-indulgent request (I wasn't able to access your rules from your masterlist so I apologize if I violate any of them :(

this is probably bc I've been reading fics and whatnot 24/7 but I now have this intense desire to coddle the haikyuu boys. like calling them baby, cupping their face with my hands and kissing them all over, holding their head to my chest and playing with their hair, humming them to sleep... sksjsk is it obvious that I'm touch starved and lonely?

hopefully you like this idea! if you decide to write it, could you include akaashi, tsukishima, kuroo, iwaizumi, and daichi please? it's totally fine if you don't want to though. thank you so much and I hope you're doing well! <3

✗ CODDLING THE HAIKYUU BOYS

hii !! the problem with the link to my rules should be fixed now, sorry about that ! but dw you respected all of them <3 and, as a fellow touch starved and lonely person, this request is absolutely adorable and i loved writing it ! also, i’m doing good ty, hope you are too !!

-> akaashi, tsukki, kuroo, iwa, daichi

-> reblogs are v cool but do what you want besties 🖤

— AKAASHI

he absolutely loves it. falling asleep and waking up comfortably tucked in your embrace every day makes him the most grateful man on earth. he even clings onto your arm just to make sure he won’t move away from you in his sleep, because he would hate to open his eyes to anything other than your sleepy face as you place gentle kisses on his forehead, getting his arms covered with goosebumps. and the « did you sleep well baby ? » that rolls off your tongue seems to magically pull the corner of his lips upwards. there’s also something about having his head buried in the crook of your neck, with your smell being the last thing he focuses on before drifting off, that makes him realize that he will never get tired of the safety you bring him.

— TSUKISHIMA

at first, tsukishima has trouble understanding why everyone is making such a fuss about how nice it is to be pampered by a loved one. but one day - a really awful one that had almost made him cry - he discovers the joys of letting you be the big spoon for once ; and he promises himself to never turn you down again next time you’d ask to play with his hair. because the feeling of your fingers tangling in his locks is all he needs to fall asleep, no matter how much is on his mind. he doesn’t even get mad when you wake him up with a kiss on the tip of his nose, telling him that the dinner you have ordered has finally come. when you get up to open the door to the delivery man, he’s still by your side, his arm embarrassingly intertwined with yours because he just wants to make sure you won’t forget about him.

— KUROO

you’re a deity to this man, so you’re free to do literally anything your heart wishes. you want to squish his cheeks until they’re bright red ? and then kiss them until they’re back to their normal color ? go ahead. and have fun doing this please, because he loves nothing more than to hear you chuckle in his ear. also, since he mostly refers to you as kitten, it’s pretty logical for you to do the same. but the first time you call him baby :o ? not in a flirty way but in a genuinely sweet one ? he has never looked up from his homework so quickly, eyes wide because he didn’t expect to like the sound of it so much. « this is nice » he flashes you a satisfied smile before whispering to himself « this is very nice ».

— IWAIZUMI

he is so used to always be the one coddling you that it had never crossed his mind that roles could be inverted. but all it takes is for you to lovingly wrap him in a blanket on a particularly cold winter day to make him completely melt. the only times he usually lets himself being pampered is when he’s sick - and even then, he always tries to prove that he’s well enough to take care of himself. but it feels good to not associate your tender gestures of affection with runny nose, headache and sore throat for once… so screw having the upper hand during cuddles today, because he really needs those back hugs and hand massages. but most of all, he needs to hear that he’s doing well and that you’re proud of him <3

— DAICHI

daichi is always in charge. and as much as he loves his role, it doesn’t take him much to surrender to your sweet gestures, precisely because he enjoys being taken care of from time to time. you’re his favorite way to recharge his batteries, every kiss you pepper on his face makes him feel a little bit stronger. but paradoxically, you’re also the person that makes him relax the fastest. he could spend entire days listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest while you let him talk about whatever comes to his mind - it feels nice to have actually have someone that listens to him, other than when he’s giving directions. but you can easily tell when he’s done talking because he always brings himself closer to you, inviting your arms to hold him just a little bit tighter as you take on the talking - only stopping when you’re sure he’s sound asleep.

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

[lovelylou]

since 2020 is almost over, i thought i’d share (some of) my favorite fics that made my 2020 a lot better.

[note: not all of these fics were written/published in 2020, although most of them are, there are some that are older, but that i’ve read or re-read this year]

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tastes like summer, smiles like may by outropeace

“Is this true?” Harry grabbed the beta by the shoulders. “Bryce, where did you hear that?”

“There’s rumors going around the castle,” he smirked. “stories about his beauty and his cold attitude. They know he is an omega only because of his scent, but he has never had a heat.”

“Do you know what this means?”

Bryce smirk grew into a big smile. “He can’t give you an heir.”

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

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But It's Useless by thinlines

“Hey.”

Louis was even hallucinating now. He closed his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He chuckled wetly, head still leaning against the door.

“Can you get out of the way? You're blocking the door.”

He exhaled sharply before slowly turning around. His eyes fixed onto muddy Nike trainers before it traveled up to impossibly short jogging shorts. The yellow color was atrocious, simply ghastly.

“What happened to being polite, Harold?”

OR Omega Louis would never guess that he would be trying to hack into Alpha Harry's Wifi. That is until everything changes when he tries to get to know his enemy.

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haunted by the ghost of you by missandrogyny

He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.

Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

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On the Edge by zanni_scaramouche

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

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even the best laid plans by falsegoodnight

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

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The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

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Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

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UN(RE)SO LVED. by daddyharrie

The ghoul boys are back, but this time around there are some unresolved feelings involved. Harry is a skeptic, Louis is not. Watch them go on their ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?

Or, BuzzFeed Unsolved AU.

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Hate to Smoke (Without Me) by louhazpride

“For fuck’s sake,” he huffs, grabbing the pillow and pulling it on top of his head in an attempt to block out the banging coming from the other side of the wall.

It’s the third time this week that his neighbour has woken him up in the middle of the night with his little ‘rendezvous.’ Honestly, he's quite sick of it. There’s only so much sex he can bear to hear in one week and he has already hit his limit. If he wanted to listen to someone having sex, he’d turn to porn.

As if the noises weren’t enough, Harry immediately becomes aware of the faint aroma of weed filling his flat.

“I’m going to murder him.”

Sleep. Harry just wants one good night of sleep. However, his neighbour has a thing for headboard-banging-against-the-wall-sex every night. After a secret set-up and a bet, Harry may finally get the sleep he so much desires.

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Three Days in February by writing_practice

“We have to get out of here, outside,” Harry whispered, turning his hand in Louis’s grip to hold on and pull them both to their feet.

“And how do we fucking do that?” Louis hissed, carefully rising and pulling Harry to his feet before Harry could do it. His gaze darted to the front then back of the arena. “None of the doors are where they’re supposed to be.”

“What?” Harry looked around again too, couldn’t see any doors, only knew that they must be there, somewhere. “How do you know?”

Confusion slid over Louis's features.

“Because we’ve been here before, Haz. It’s the O2.”

The show. It must be the first night of their tour. They were too late; they were out of time.

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.

Ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a lot of Harry and Louis alone together, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

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Coming Up For Air by stylinsoncity

It's a long plane ride to LA but sitting beside Harry makes time fly.

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I'd Give Up Everything Just Ask Me To by Rearviewdreamer

They don't usually exchange Christmas gifts, but this year is different. This year, Louis knows exactly what he wants to put under the tree to make his boyfriend smile. He just doesn't know how he's going to get it.

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bruise you like a peach by falsegoodnight

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

-

Alternatively titled 'the peach fic.'

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Sometimes You Just Know by 2tiedships2

“Dear diary. Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why...”

“What are you doing?” Louis mumbled as he bit into a piece of toast.

“It’s been almost two years and today Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson reunite. Louis is very excited about…”

Louis’ chair screeched along the kitchen floor as he flew up out of his seat, quickly grabbing the paper from Niall’s grasp. As he scanned the page he found it amounted to lines of nothing.

“What is this?” Louis asked again. “We’ve discussed how Harry Styles will never be spoken of in this flat. I don’t care how long it’s been.”

Niall snatched the paper from Louis and proceeded to draw a line across the page before writing.

“Today is the day that he-who-shall-not-be-named is coming to dinner.”

Or the one where Harry and Louis don’t believe in soulmates… until they do.

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eyes off you by soldouthaz

“Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe while we’re in there,” Liam says.

Through the crack in the door, Louis can just barely make out the broad curve of Harry’s back, the slope of his curls as they tumble down all sleep-soft and lazy, and the sharp twist of his arm - all leading down to where he’s got his pointer and middle finger crossed over each other behind his back.

“I promise,” he tells Liam firmly, “I promise.”

--

or; a charlie’s angels inspired fic where louis is the brains, harry is the charm, liam is the muscle, and niall drives the getaway car - and zayn is there, too. sometimes.

⋆*+･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*･ﾟ+.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*+･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*･ﾟ+.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Welcome to The Rivalry by 2tiedships2

“Welcome home!” Niall yelled, clapping his hands in excitement. “Isn’t it great?”

Louis looked between Niall and the house, unsure how to respond.

“I don’t understand,” Louis finally managed to say. “Aren’t we a little old to be living so close to campus?”

Niall scoffed. “You’re only twenty-four for fuck’s sake. There is still plenty of partying left for us to do. What better place than one street over from where a car was set on fire after the Michigan game last year?”

“Is there proof of that? Did the car have Michigan plates or something? Is there a photo I can send in a DM to Wolfie?”

As if on cue, a Twitter notification popped up on Louis’ Apple watch. He had tweeted again.

Or a reverse You’ve Got Mail au inspired by the Ohio State/Michigan rivalry. Featuring duplex neighbors, (kind of) enemies to lovers, and an anonymous Twitter feud between omega Louis and alpha Harry.

⋆*+･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*･ﾟ+.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*+･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*･ﾟ+.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child

A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham

Louis really could use the help.

⋆*+･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*･ﾟ+.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*+･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*･ﾟ+.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

[feline-gal]

Talia arches a brow “You thought I had something to do with him?” she asks, setting the paper down.

Bruce shrugs “It seemed like a reasonable theory.” he replies “You do have a bit of history in cloning, after all.”

“Never made any blue-eyed ones, though.” Talia rebuts “Can't very well give my baby boy replacements of the wrong color, now, can I?”

“How very considerate.” Bruce drawls sardonically, slowly raising an eyebrow at the casual statement.

“Indeed.” Damian concurs genuinely “Thank you, mother. I appreciate it.”

“Glad one of you does~.” Talia chirps sunnily.

Bruce stares flatly between the two, feeling a bit like he's missing something.

Talia sighs and uncrosses her legs “Anyway, point is;” she starts, rising to her feet and walking to stand in front of the two as she continues speaking “He's not one of mine. So, who is he? What do you know about him?”

“And just why should I tell you anything?” Bruce asks back, crossing his arms “If you're just going to look for some flimsy excuse to murder him..”

Talia turns her nose up and sticks him with a challenging glare “The only reason I'd need to kill him is if he poses some kind of threat to my family and the line of succession I've so painstakingly set up for our son.” she informs, gesturing to the teenager “Can you prove to me that there's no need for me to eliminate him? Or am I going to have to hunt that information down myself?”

There's a beat of tense silence.

Then Bruce's stomach growls.

“Perhaps we should have breakfast before discussing this further?” Damian suggests.

Talia shifts her gaze to her son “What's stopping us from discussing during breakfast?” she asks.

“Pennyworth.” Damian answers simply.

“No work talk allowed at the dining table.” Bruce elaborates “And if we're treating this as an investigation..” he trails off.

Talia stares flatly for a long moment, then shuts her eyes and sighs out her nose “Very well.” she concedes.

. … . … . … .

Tim looks up from the clutter of his table at the three that have just entered the cave and focuses on the woman of the trio.

“Heyyy, Talia..” he slurs out tiredly, glaring suspiciously at her “Here for your overgrown guinea pig?”

“Assuming by which you mean the man whom people are claiming to be my beloved's long lost son;” Talia starts, crossing her arms “His existence is just as much a surprise to me as it is to the lot of you.”

“Riiight...” Tim drawls out with an unconvinced nod “Sure it is. Sure it is.” he takes a long sip of his coffee.

“I believe she's telling the truth, Tim.” Bruce states.

Tim swallows his drink and levels Bruce with a judgmental stare “So you're letting her in on the investigation?” he asks “Just like that?”

“All I'm letting her in on is whether or not the man is related to us,” Bruce informs, gesturing between himself and Talia, then side-eyes her as he continues bitterly “and thus, a 'threat' that she 'needs' to 'eliminate'.”

Tim lets out a 'hrrmm' and takes another long sip of his drink.

Bruce sighs despondently “I'm not going to like the test results, am I?” he asks.

The younger vigilante gulps down his beverage and raises one hand up, tilting it side-to-side as he drags out and 'ehhh' “It's complicated.”

“How so?” Talia asks, quirking a brow.

“Well, thing about this guy..” Tim starts, tapping at a keyboard and shortly pulling up a series of glitched out photos of the guy in question for his small audience to see “Is that nothing about him likes to be digitized, which made testing his DNA an absolute Pain In The Ass. Single strand of hair crashed everything I tried to scan with. So I had to-”

“I don't need to know the whole testing process.” Talia cuts in “Just the results.”

Tim grunts “Well, the initial result was-” he pulls up an image of a DNA helix “-this mess that I couldn't make heads or tails of for forever until-” with a couple simultaneous key presses, the colors of the image completely change “-I accidentally hit Invert Color and, bam! Normal human DNA. Most of which-” a couple more key presses and sections of the helix become highlighted in three different colors with lines extending to connect to various symbols and bits of text “-matches the mixture of yours and B's DNA that makes up Damian's. The rest,” he gestures to the red highlighted portions connected to question marks and [UNKNOWN]s and then shrugs “Not a damn clue.” he looks back to Talia “Does it look familiar to you?”

Talia leans slightly forward and stares intently at the image ���..No.” she soon answers.

Tim squints suspiciously at her and glances over at Bruce, who gives a half-shrug and nod, indicating she's telling the truth insofar as he can tell. The younger vigilante lets out a short hum and takes another sip of his coffee.

“So..” Talia pipes up after a moment of digesting the information “The color inversion means.. what? That he's inversely related to us?”

Tim gives another, mightier shrug “I don't fuckin' know.” he answers helplessly “I've got a bunch of crackpot theories, like; maybe he's a really messed up clone, or he's from another universe or dimension or timeline or whatever, or-”

“I don't care about alternate realities.” Talia interrupts irritably “I want to know who he is here in this one. Is there anything about his internet presence that could point us in the right direction?”

“Talia,” Bruce chides “I feel that's overstepping the bounds of our agreement.”

“I'm not satisfied with this information.” Talia retorts “So I'm not going anywhere until I get some proper answers.”

The two glare intensely at eachother.

Tim sighs tiredly “Unfortunately, you're probably not going to get any today.” he says, typing away at the keyboard again “All I was able to get on him is this.”

On queue, the screen displays the driver's license of one Dan Nightingale, 26 year old resident of an Amity Park.

“Seriously?” Damian asks with an incredulous tilt of his head.

“Just the driver's license?” Bruce questions.

“That can't be it.” Talia denies.

“Wish I could say otherwise.” Tim bemoans, then points at the address “Wherever this 'Amity Park' place is, it's got some ridiculously strong firewalls around it that not even me & Oracle combined can hack.”

“That's-” Bruce frowns “-highly concerning.”

“And highly inconvenient.” Damian adds.

“Also highly INFURIATING!” Tim grumbles with an enraged roar at the end, then slumps into his chair with an exhausted groan “I feel like I've been bashing my head against a brick wall all day.”

“And we've only just had breakfast.” Damian quips.

Tim stares up at the Cave's high ceiling, eyes shifting about in calculation “..That ain't right.” he eventually mutters out in denial before taking yet another sip from his mug.

“It most certainly is.” Damian affirms.

“Tim,” Bruce deadpans “How much coffee have you been drinking recently?”

Tim eventually swallows his drink and sets the cup back down “Not enough.” he replies with the utmost of gruff severity.

“Too much.” Bruce corrects with the utmost of exasperation. He sighs wearily and starts to walk towards his adoptive son “I think it's about time you go to bed.”

“Nuh-uh!” Tim rebukes, backing away from the Dark Knight.

“Tim..” Bruce says slowly, stepping closer to the younger vigilante, who backs further away in response, and then turns and starts running away “Get back here!” Bruce demands, chasing after him “Don't make me break out the tranquilizers!”

Damian gives a roll of his eyes and an annoyed 'tt' at the shenanigans, snags a set of bolas and promptly throws it at his elder brother's legs, snaring them and sending him tumbling to the ground, where their father proceeds to grab him up and then start to drag him off, thrashing and shouting, towards the elevator.

“I'll be right back.” Bruce says to Talia & Damian as the doors open, then to Talia specifically he adds “Don't touch anything.” to which the woman rolls her eyes.

The elevator doors close and the lift begins to ascend, trapping the father and son duo together in the small space for a few moments before the doors open back up, allowing them to stumble out into the manor's main study in a tangle of limbs.

“Asshole.” Tim hisses out as he disentangles himself and shoves away from Bruce.

Bruce scoffs “Sorry for trying to prevent you from succumbing to caffeine poisoning.” he snips back.

“Finally come up for morning dinner, master Tim?” Alfred pipes up as he pokes his head into the room.

“Apparently.” Tim gripes with a petulant huff, knowing there's no fighting against Alfred “But first..” he turns back to Bruce, gesturing for him to come closer. The two lean towards eachother conspiratorially “The guy's hair isn't made of keratin.” Tim whispers “It's composed of super concentrated Lazarus Water.”

Bruce's eyes widen and he lets out a 'hrrm' “That complicates things.” he remarks.

“Like they weren't complicated enough already.” Tim scoffs, flicking open his wrist computer “I'll hide that information remotely while I eat.” and with that, he turns and walks over to where Alfred is waiting patiently, then the two disappear around the corner.

Bruce sighs wearily, running a hand through his hair before turning and re-entering the elevator.

. … . … . … .

The elevator doors close and the lift begins to ascend, leaving the mother and son duo alone in the cave.

Talia idly sweeps her eyes across the smattering of information on the familiar stranger for a few moments.

She soon shifts her gaze over to her son, expression subtly pensive “Do you think..” she speaks softly “this man might have something to do with.. him?”

Damian stares back at his mother for a moment, not needing her to specify who she's referring to. He knows. He's had similar suspicions since he'd first seen his blue-eyed, aged up reflection.

“..Nothing is impossible.” he eventually replies “We can't rule anything out.”

Talia gives a simple hum of acknowledgment and turns back to the screen.

Another moment later, the elevator comes back down and Bruce re-enters the cave.

“Alright, Alfred's dealing with Tim now.” he reports, walking over to the two “So,” he stops before them and sets his hands on his hips “how are we going about this?”

Submitted Prompts #70

Bruce & Damian encounter a man who looks like he could be related to them and also seems to be suppressing the expression of someone looking at the ghosts of his own murder victims.

Dan, meanwhile, is internally freaking out ‘cause he’s just bumped into the father and no-longer-twin brother he murdered in cold blood just this morning over a decade ago.

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Good morning, afternoon or night to you! May I request a matchup please?

My name is Ximena, I am an upperclassman in highschool. Pronouns are she/her. I am Mexican-American, fluent in Spanish and English. I am the oldest of my siblings. My zodiac is a Pisces. am 5,2 with an inverted triangle body shape. I'm pale, with natural rosy cheeks. People say I have doe eyes, dark brown. Hair color is the same color and it goes down a few centimeters off the shoulders, but I usually wear it in a ponytail. I am toned, not like a fitness influencer lol.

I am an INFJ. Socializing makes me pretty nervous, but I'll do it if I have to work on a school project or my friends are uncomfortable speaking. I am the "mom" friend of the group, always reminding them to do their work and to take care of themselves. People say I'm sweet and kind for helping them. I do my best to be open-minded and provide realistic advice. My humor is word play, puns and sarcasm. I am a perfectionist, I try my best in everything. I am pretty insecure of myself, very worried about the future and what others think of me. I get irritated if things don't go as planned.

I am dancer, I love every aspect of it. My favorite style would be ballet and my dream would be going professional. I like to read, my favorite genres being fantasy or adventure. In general, I like being active so I enjoy playing sports, mostly tennis though. I like hiking with my dog and nature in general. I treasure deep conversations with my loved ones. I dislike people who are ignorant (any kind of oppression towards minorities), or who complain about work yet they procrastinate. I would rather not publicly speak and despise anything unhygienic. I hate feeling useless or having no motivation.

I hope I didn't overwhelm you with this request. I really enjoy your writing, it's the first blog that caught my eye! Also your layout is lovely and soothing. I hope you are having a great day/night and are doing well 🥰

@magicaldancer5678

A/N- Another matchup that took 500 years to come out 🥲. I’m sorry this took so long! Enjoy ❤️

Asahi Azumane

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐭

oooookkkaaayyyy

So you and Asahi shared some classes together

and you and him got partnered for a project

This kinda made you two HAVE to spend time together and get to know each other

every day you would go over to his house to work on the project

and then you would just hang out with him as friends for a bit before you went home

And when the time came to present your project

Asahi was very impressed with how you could take the lead in the presentation

he just knew that you could be a little shy at times

so he was NOT expecting you to just go up there and present so confidently

but he was a little relieved cuz he do be a shy boi 444

and even after you, two didn't have to work with each other anymore

you both found yourselves hanging out with each other

you and Asahi ended up building a very strong friendship in the time you two spent together

And after some time Asahi started to realize that he had feelings for you

Luckily for him, there was a perfect opportunity to confess to you...

Your upcoming ballet concert

He always showed up to all of your performances

as all good supportive friend should

But he was going to make this one VERY special

He went all out

After your performance (which you rocked by the way)

He gave you a GIANT bouquet of flowers along with a cute little plushy

And he asked you if you would be interested in going on a date with him

oml he just about fainted when you said yes

Ya'll have been a happy couple ever since then

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

He loves low you look out for him

Now Asahi is very good at taking care of himself

But we all have our days

And when he has his little off days your always there to take care of him

Whether that be reminding him to drink water or to eat food

Or it be making him take "mental health days"

And since you do all this for him

He makes sure to do his best to take care of you as well :)

He also loves the advice you are able to give him

He doesn't really like to bother anyone with his problems

So it took him a while to start asking you for help with anything

But now whenever he finds himself in a sticky situation

He comes to you for advice

And you always seem to have the perfect solution for him

So he's very grateful for that

And just a quick cheesy one real quick

He loves your eyes

He thinks you can truly see all of your emotions through them

And the way they sparkle in the sun just makes him go 444

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

He loves to read with you

Idk I just got a feeling that he's a really big reader

So just cuddling with you and reading you a book

Bam heaven on earth right there

Omg he LOVES LOVES LOVES to go on hikes with you

Or just walks

He also really likes nature so hiking is super fun for him

Especially if it's with you 444

Finally

You have been trying to teach him Spanish lately

So he really likes spending time with you while learning a new language

And he thinks it's cool that you guys have almost a secret language

Cause not a lot of people at Karasano can speak Spanish

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐜

If your wondering you guys got an A on that project

He loves your dog 444

He'll always ask if your dog can come on hikes or walks with you two

Once he learns a little Spanish his new pet name for you is Mi Amor

He's tried playing tennis with you

But he just could not hit the damn ball

He blames it on the ball being too small

He supports your dream about becoming a professional dancer 100%

The entire team always says you too suit each other

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

When Capricorn and Pisces join together in a love match, on the surface, it may appear to be opposites attracting.

Capricorn is down-to-earth and regimented, with a very strong work ethic

while Pisces tends to be more emotional and dreamy, and takes on the needs of those around them.

This couple is honest, and can be devoted to one another.

They admire one another

Capricorn appreciates Pisces’s kind nature, and Pisces is drawn in by Capricorn’s quick wit and tenacity.

This relationship may develop slowly, the two not necessarily recognizing its progression.

But it will get stronger over time.

The Capricorn-Pisces duo can really put their heads together and can be fulfilled by their partner.

Difficulties can arise if Capricorn is too dominating for Pisces’s sensitive side.

Pisces needs to understand that this is Capricorn’s style and not a personal attack.

Pisces might not take too well to Capricorn’s stubbornness, but can deal with it through patience and understanding.

Pisces enjoys indulging Capricorn through their desire for domestic bliss, which combines well with Capricorn’s need for a neat, tidy home and material goods.

It’s their unique blend of temperaments.

Both partners enjoy sharing their lives with someone else, and both like to help the other achieve their goals.

Their difference in temperaments makes theirs a highly compatible relationship.

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜

Aphrodite 💖

[ieattaperecorders]

Trapdoor

Inb4 we get a good description of the post-apocalyptic world, wrote a little monster encounter for these boys. It’s also here on Ao3.

- - -

“Where are you going?”

Martin turned to Jon who stood a few paces back, looking quizzical. “Towards the hills? You just said it would be safer there.”

“I absolutely did not say that.” Jon replied. “I said we ought to go this way,” he gestured in the direction he’d been turning. “Stick to the lower places, where there’s less room for things to sneak up.”

The rolling, rocky countryside had been suspiciously innocuous lately. Unsettlingly normal. For the last few kilometers, nothing had leaped out at them or tried to lure them towards apparent safety. No part of the world had suddenly twisted or inverted around them. In fact, for some time the terrain they’d been walking across had done an impressive job of resembling ordinary Scottish land on a gray and drizzly morning. It was leaving both of them tense, anxious, waiting for the hammer to fall.

“. . .I’m pretty sure I heard you.” Martin looked back at the hills. “And it feels safer to go that way? I dunno, higher ground? Doesn’t that seem right?”

“Martin.” Jon put his hands on Martin’s arms, speaking slowly and carefully. “You might want to consider the possibility that something is making you feel that way.”

“That doesn’t sound ri - - ah.” Martin caught himself. “Maybe. Er,” he lifted his arms. “Have I got any spiders on me?”

Jon peered over him nervously. “I mean. I don’t see any, but it’s not likely going to be that simple.”

“How do we know which way is safe, then?” Martin asked. “If we’re possibly dealing with mind control, it could be tricking you as well.”

“It’s wise to be skeptical where these things are concerned.” Jon said, “But I was able to see in the Unknowing, and I think this may be similar. Besides that, you seem a little . . . dazed, to me?”

“Yeah. . .” Now that he was focusing on it, he had to admit that his head felt off somehow. “I guess I am feeling a little . . . dazed.”

“I think that my connection to the Eye is the only thing keeping keep me safe. We ought to move as quickly as we can.” Jon looked at him intently. “If this place is affecting your mind, you might not be able to trust everything you see and hear. So stay close to me, try to ignore anything strange. I’ll guide you.”

There was something moving in Martin’s peripheral vision. Tiny ripples formed in the dirt, as if something was shifting underground. He swore he could hear a muffled noise, like a shuffling or hissing, coming from nearby.

“Don’t focus on it.” Jon’s hand came up to tilt Martin’s face towards his own. “Whatever you’re seeing, I’m pretty sure looking at it is a mistake. Just look at me. Focus on my voice. You can trust me.”

“Right.” That noise was getting louder, and Martin tried to ignore it. “Looking is probably a mistake. . . .”

Even out of the corner of his eye, though, Martin could tell that thing was moving closer. He was relieved when Jon turned, hand clasping his, and started leading him away from it.

“This way,” Jon said, pulling gently but quickly at him. “Try to keep your eyes on me.”

But it was really hard not to look down when the mud started to swirl around at their heels. The sound coming from below was just loud enough for Martin to make out a word.

Stop--

And he was pretty sure he did not want to listen to the ground telling him to stop moving, so he decided to quicken his pace a little. But he hadn't gotten far before the soil opened up behind him and a hand, black with mud, reached out and gripped his ankle.

Martin yelped and pulled away, but the hand’s grip was tight, and he only succeeded in yanking half an arm out of the ground with it.

“Don’t look down!” Jon’s voice came from behind him, hand still gripping his. “That’s how it pulls you in. Just keep moving!”

And Martin would have done as he said, except at that moment the soil shifted and a pair of shoulders joined the arm, as did the rough shape of a human head. There were more arms surrounding it, bent and twisted ones with joints like the legs of an insect and long, grasping hands. They reached out and wrapped around the muddy figure to pull it back down, but it was quickly struggling free. Choking, gasping and spitting mud, Jon’s face emerged from below.

“S-stop--” he gasped, looking wild-eyed at Martin “Stop listening to it!”

“Oh my God . . . Jon!?” Martin stared at the half-buried figure.

“Let him go!” Jon’s voice growled from behind him, directed at the muddy silhouette. “He’s not for you!”

The Jon that was covered in mud coughed and spat out a gobbet of earth, its hand still gripping Martin’s leg . He was pulling him towards the mud, he realized, and the grasping hands. Or, no, was he pulling himself out? Or was he just pulling Martin towards himself, away from the one who was holding him?

The one who was - - there was still a hand gripping his hand. Whose...whose hand was on him . . . .?

“Martin. Look at it.” The Jon clinging to his ankle fixed a penetrating gaze on him. Martin felt something . . . a painful moment of light piercing the haze in his mind. “Look at what you’ve been talking to.”

Martin looked back at the thing holding his hand. It was definitely not Jon. It had too many limbs, and not enough eyes, and when it smiled there was a hissing sound like that of a chittering insect.

He screamed, pulling his hand back and trying back away. Unfortunately the real Jon still held his ankle, so he didn’t back away so much as stumble and fall flat onto the ground. The monster loomed. It no longer looked like Jon, but it retained just enough detail - his scarred right hand, the color of his shirt, the lower half of his face now split with a too wide grin - to make everything else seem worse.

“Get away - -” Jon’s voice was hoarse, rough with the soil he’d been trapped in, but there was fire in it. “Get - - away from him.”

The creature froze in place as Jon pulled himself up beside Martin. Martin assumed that Jon’s gaze was keeping it still, but he wasn’t going to rely on the Watcher if he could help it. He took the moment of distraction as a chance to sweep the creature’s legs. Having a dozen, spindly, twisting limbs might be good for frightening people who wander into your terrible pit trap. But they didn’t provide much in terms of stability. The creature went down, landing half on top of Martin.

In a panic, he kicked it towards the hole that Jon had crawled out of. A new arm shot out of the ground just as the monster began to rise. A hand wrapped around one if its gangly legs, and was joined by another. Then another, and another, and many more, until it was looked more like a tangle of chitinous wire than anything remotely humanoid.

Martin and Jon scrabbled back from the pits’ edge as the thing was dragged down and swallowed, screaming inhumanly. The ground went quiet again, and the two of them stopped and breathed.

“Are you all right?” Jon asked.

Martin nodded. “I think so. What about you?”

“I think so.” Jon cleared his throat, voice still raw. “I wasn’t down there long. If, ah, if suffocation were lethal here I’d probably be in more trouble.”

“Here, hang on. . . .” Martin shrugged off his backpack. He was glad he’d had the foresight to bring some bottles of water, despite neither of them feeling thirst anymore. He’d known they’d have some practical use -- or, if he was being honest with himself, tea-related use. But this seemed the more immediate concern.

Jon took the water gratefully, swishing his mouth out and spitting a few times, then attempted to clean himself off. His clothes weren’t going to be pristine again, that was for certain, but he managed to get from ‘dirt monster’ to ‘man who’s been tramping through the muddy woods.’ Which wasn't far from where they’d both been to begin with, and would have to do.

“Stepped in the wrong spot.” Jon muttered as he scrubbed at his hair. “I was underground in an instant.”

“I didn’t even see. I’m sorry.” Martin said.

“It’s not your fault.” Jon replied. “That thing was toying with your mind. I could see it even from down there, but I couldn’t reach you. . . .”

“We should get moving again.” Martin said, getting to his feet. “That thing might be able to crawl out too.”

“Yes. You’re right.” Jon pulled himself up, brushing off what remaining soil he could, and took Martin’s hand. “Towards the hills?”

Martin nodded, slinging the bag back over his shoulder.

“Jon. . .” a startlingly familiar voice came from behind them. “What’s going on?”

Martin turned and found himself facing a figure that looked only vaguely like him. Actually, it would be more right to say it looked exactly like he would look if a number of long, twisted monster arms burst from his back and wrapped themselves around his head and body. It was covered in black mud and one of those long hands obscured the top corner of its face. It stood a few meters away, but Martin could still make out its expression, which was a mocking mimicry of concern.

The Martin-thing held out a hand. “Jon, listen, that’s not me,” it said. Its voice sounded off, though that much might just be because Martin was used to hearing his own voice resonate in his head. “I don’t know what it is, but that isn’t me.”

If the image hadn’t been so unsettling, Martin might have laughed at it. “Nice try? But I don't think he's going to buy it.”

Martin looked over at Jon, who was staring in shock at the Martin-thing. He turned back to Martin and his eyes narrowed with suspicion and concern. Martin groaned inwardly.

“Seriously?” He said. “You’re not really fooled by that thing, are you? It’s covered in weird spider-arms and dripping with mud.”

“Is that what you see?” Jon asked, brow knit.

“I mean, yes?”

“Because he looks entirely normal to me. And--” Jon tensed and Martin felt static at the edges of his perception. A quiet, pained grunt came from between Jon’s teeth. “He looks. . .authentic. Real,” he glanced back at Martin, looking intently at him. “So do you, incidentally.”

“Well thanks very much.” Martin said.

“I, ah.” Jon frowned. “I’m not sure. . .what to do with this?”

There was silence for a while as the three of them stared at each other, not moving. Jon was still holding Martin’s arm, but his grip had tightened a little. Martin suddenly wasn’t sure if Jon was clinging to him, or keeping him in place.

“Okaaay.” The Other Martin said. “So, uh. . . Jon, when you were still working in research, I picked your name for the yearly White Elephant. I barely knew you at that point, so I made the mistake of asking Tim what he thought you’d want. I probably should have realized the ‘it’s wine o’clock somewhere’ t-shirt wasn’t actually your style, but I thought maybe you and Tim had a similar sense of humor and you dressed differently when you weren’t at work.”

“Oh, we’re doing that, are we?” Martin said, annoyed. “Fine. I didn’t let you eat lunch alone for two weeks after you were stabbed. You didn’t want to talk about any of the things you were obsessed with at the time, so I started chatting about anything I could think of to fill the silence. Somehow I got onto cartoons we grew up with and that’s how I found out you’ve never played a Pokemon game but you know a really suspicious amount about the anime.”

The Martin-Thing? Other Martin? Martin was just going to think of it as the other one. It frowned through the tangle of its limbs at Martin’s response.

“The first time you told me that you loved me was on the train to Scotland,” it said, and hearing it talk about that made Martin’s teeth clench. “I was so startled to hear it that I froze and didn’t respond at all, and you started apologizing, worrying you’d made a mistake.”

“Our first night in the safehouse--” Martin said. “You were stroking my hair because you thought I was asleep. I thought you might stop if I opened my eyes, so I just kept pretending. I didn’t tell you about it for a week.”

“Two weeks after we met--” the other one began.

“Stop, stop!” Jon shouted, waved his free hand in the air. “None of that proves anything. There are creatures in this world quite capable of stealing memories, of replacing or re-writing them. You should both know that,” he added with a glare, “regardless of whether you’re real or not.”

The other one frowned. “Jon, it’s me . . . .”

The thing took a step closer and Martin started to back away. Jon kept his grip on him, though that only meant he was pulled along a step or two before he dug his heels into the soft earth.

“Don’t!” he snapped, and Martin stopped moving. Jon released his arm, pose tense, his gaze shooting wildly between them. “Don’t move. Just- - both of you stay where I can see you.”

“Okay. Okay . . .” Martin held up his hands. He could see Jon was starting to panic, and tried to sound calm. “I’m not moving.”

The other one mirrored Martin's pose and Jon nodded, frowning. He backed a step or two away, positioning himself more evenly between the two Martins. His arms were a little out from his sides, as if making ready to grab or push away either one.

“Maybe don’t get too close to it, though?” Martin said, an edge of worry in his voice. “Just in case? Okay?”

“Yeah,” the other one shot back, audibly offended. “Don’t get too close to it, Jon.”

Jon pressed a hand to his forehead, sighing. “Just - just let me think, all right?”

“Right. Take all the time you need.” the other one said, its tone unpleasantly familiar.

Jon paced back and forth with agitation, always keeping his eyes on one of them. Martin watched the other one, in case it made a move for Jon or for him. He couldn’t help but notice It was looking back at him with what he assumed was an identical, watchful expression. Mimics were absolutely the worst.

“Either somehow both of you are really Martin,” Jon muttered, still pacing “or my perception’s being altered in a way I can’t break through. But if it’s the latter I don’t know how we’d proceed. If they both look real, maybe it means neither of them is? But if that’s the case the real Martin could be anywhere, and how am I supposed to find him if I can’t trust what I see. . . .”

“I mean - -” Martin couldn’t help but feel a little hurt hearing Jon talk about him as if he was both not there and in fact, not real. It wasn’t his fault, but it did sting a bit. “How could we both be real?”

“Does that seem impossible at this point?” Jon threw his arms in the air. “That something could split a person in two? Or double them? That would feed into something, surely. The -- the existential fear of it all. Not to mention the fear of being deceived, of unreality, paranoia. . . .”

Martin considered this. “Well. . . that’s fair. But we both saw that other Jon. After that, it seems more likely that one of us is a trick,” he sighed, glaring at the other one. “And I mean. I know which one’s real, but I don’t know how I can prove it to you.”

“You didn’t say you were real.” The other one said triumphantly. “You said ‘I know which one,’ that’s probably a tell, Jon.”

“I meant me, I’m real, I was just trying not to be rude.”

“All right, all right. If nothing else either one of you could be a . . . a replacement.” Jon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But unless I know, I can’t take the risk of leaving the real Martin behind. So I think we’re all just going to have to stick together until one of you tries to, I don’t know, enslave my will or turn me inside out or something.”

“That’s a bad plan, Jon.” The other one said.

“Yeah, I kind of have to agree with the other one?” Martin said. “I mean, you’re talking about definitely letting an evil doppleganger tag along, I can’t see that ending well.”

“Well unless one of you wants to tear off a Martin skin and get this over with, I don’t see any other options!” Jon snapped, frustrated.

There was a pause, then the other one spoke up.

“What if you asked us who we are?” it suggested. “I mean. . .nothing’s been able to lie to you so far, right?”

Jon considered. He looked at Martin for permission, and he nodded.

“Yeah, all right.” he said. “Do it.”

“Who are you?” Jon’s voice reverberated, reaching into him. The words came out with no resistance.

“I’m Martin Blackwood,” he said.

Jon looked guarded but a measure of relief showed in him, and Martin smiled at that.

“And who are you?” Jon asked the other.

“I’m Martin Blackwood,” it said, “I'm someone who loves you.”

“I mean, I love you too.” Martin said, frowning. Hearing that thing say those words in particular made his stomach twist a little. “I just didn’t think that was what you were asking.”

Jon was quiet for a moment, considering, then he looked at the other one. “Who were you an hour ago?”

“I was Martin Blackwood,” it said. “I’ve always been.”

“And you?” Jon turned back to Martin. “Who were you an hour ago?”

“I was mud.” Martin said. “Eternally grasping, flowing ever downwards. I was hands, many and needful, aching to grip and wrench and pull. I was the thought of hands, hands that grip the mind. Ones you cannot pull away from without ripping out the most vulnerable parts of yourself. And now, I am Martin Blackwood.”

Martin blinked, hand halfway to his throat. The words had poured out of him, he hadn’t even needed to think. Where had they come from?

“I. . .I don’t. I don’t know why I said that?” He laughed nervously. “Why would I say that?”

Jon’s eyes were wide with fear and he backed towards the other one, arm out as if to separate Martin from it. And that wasn’t fair. Why was he trusting that thing over him? It didn’t even look like him.

“Keep away from it.” Jon said.

“Yeah, I got that.” The thing behind him replied.

“Wait- I, I know how this must sound,” Martin tried to explain, “but it’s got to be some kind of trick. I don’t know where those words came from. It’s me. It’s the real me, I promise.”

“I very much doubt that.” Jon said, his voice cold. He was looking at Martin with such hatred, and it stirred something raw and panicky in him.

“Ask me again!” Martin pleaded, voice trembling. “I’ll get it right this time, just ask again!”

“The answer will be the same.” Jon said firmly.

“Jon.” The thing standing behind him put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, speaking softly. “We should probably run. It feels like this is going to get worse really, really soon.”

“Don’t!” Martin resisted the urge to step closer, afraid that if he did Jon would just do as the other one said and start running. “I’m me. I’m Martin Blackwood. You heard me say it, you know it’s true. I’m Martin.”

“But you’re also a trap.” Jon said. When he opened his mouth again, his voice pierced through Martin’s entire being. “Aren’t you?”

This time he did resist, tried to close his mouth as he the words welled up in him. But it was no use.

“Yes,” tears gathered in Martin’s eyes as the truth forced its way through his lips. “A trap for you.”

“No different than the other half of it.” Jon nodded solemnly. “Just a little bit crueler.”

Martin was dizzy. Everything felt like it was falling away. His own words reverberated in his head, taunting him, and he wanted to scream. Then Jon turned and began to walk away, and Martin did panic.

“Wait! Please, just let me come with you,” he begged. “I’m not - I won’t cause trouble. I won’t even complain about the other one, I promise. I - -” he swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He saw Jon hesitate, gripping the other one a little more tightly, and it held him tightly back. It hurt. That thing didn’t look or feel remotely right, but it was holding Jon. Holding and being held by him while Martin was left outside. Only a few meters away, but it may as well have been the full length of the earth.

“I feel like myself. I feel like . . .like him,” admitting to being something other than Martin was almost physically painful, but he pressed on. “Like Martin. Maybe I didn’t used to be, but I am now.”

“A hand that can conceive of itself,” Jon said darkly. “Clenched by an unseen mind.”

Fairchild’s words now echoed by Jon rang in his memory. The old man had been right. It was horrid. Martin didn’t want to think about any of it. He just wanted to run to Jon, pull him into his arms, hold him close and be held. Couldn’t he just have that? Couldn’t it be that simple?

“I love you.” Martin said. “You can ask me, I’ll say it a thousand times, because it’s true.”

“. . . But you’ll still hurt him,” the other one said. Its voice was as gentle as its words were cruel. “Even if you don’t want to, it’s what you were made to do. The trap is going to close eventually.”

Martin shook his head violently. It wasn’t true. Whatever he might be, he wouldn’t hurt Jon. He just wanted to stay with him. He wanted to wrap his arms around Jon and never let go. He wanted to bury Jon’s face in his chest and hold him close and promise he was safe with him and be believed. Even if they weren’t his, he had memories of a thousand loving embraces. A thousand more gentle touches, kisses, tender looks. They felt no less real than this moment did.

At the same time, he knew Jon would never hold him again. Not willingly. Not anymore.

Something was moving under the earth, snaking closer to the three of them. Something that also wanted to hold them very, very close. Based on the uneasy way they were starting to look at the ground, Martin suspected they felt it rumbling.

“If you love him,” the other one spoke quickly, his voice wavering as the soil shook. “If you’re really me enough to love him, then I think you want him to be safe. And I’m sorry, but he’s not going to be safe with you.”

The heaviness of his words settled on Martin like the weight of all creation. He felt a thousand grasping hands reach out, fingers just breaking the surface of the soil. The two men holding tightly to one another jumped as the earth shifted around them. Then all at once the hands lost their will, and dissolved back into mud.

Martin sat on the ground. He held himself and looked down at the dirt, which was where he truly belonged. He’d keep his gaze fixed there until he heard them leave, then he’d look up and he’d be alone. A hand that could conceive of itself, with nothing to hold.

“. . . Martin?”

Jon’s voice was soft, and Martin assumed he was talking to the other one, the real one, the one who deserved him. But he repeated the name closer this time, and Martin looked up.

Jon stood just a little more than an arm’s length away. The other one was behind him, a hand held protectively on his shoulder. Jon leaned forward, face soft and sad, and Martin took a shallow breath.

“Maybe. . .” Jon said, gently “you should go back to being mud. I think it would be easier than being human. It wouldn’t . . . hurt as much.”

Slowly, Martin nodded. He didn’t remember being mud, but he was pretty damn sure it hurt a lot less than this.

“I don’t know if I can, though,” he said, an ache in his voice. “I don’t. . . I don’t know how to stop being Martin.”

“I can help you, I think.” Jon said. “If you’d let me.”

“But what if. . .” Martin frowned. “If- if I’m mud again. I won’t . . . I mean. . .what if I try to--”

“Then we’ll run.” Jon sounded confident, calm. “We’ve gotten away from worse before. You remember, don’t you?”

He did remember, in fact. Dozens of panicked escapes since the day they left the cabin. Memories of fear, of adrenaline, and of the fierce, mad victory of knowing you’ve reached the other side. They had dealt with worse. He looked questioningly at the other one, who nodded.

“Y-yes.” Martin said softly. “Yes. I’d . . . I’d like to be mud again. Please.”

He felt a vast and painful awareness reach into him, and it pulled out the story of a kind, nervous man who was always underestimated.

The mud slid away from the curves and angles of Martin Blackwood. Details fell back one by one - a quiet night working late, a hand gripping desperately at another, a sweater worn threadbare. For a moment, the mud felt the softest sensation of loss. Then a comfortable hunger returned to it and that feeling dissolved. Filled with relief and clarity once more it reached eagerly, gratefully, to grasp its nearby prey.

The two men staggered back, making the sounds that creatures make when they’re afraid, and their short clumsy limbs scrabbled around them. More of the mud came to join it. Dozens upon dozens of limbs, eternally grasping with an ache to wrench and pull, slid up from the ground to encircle the pair.

But this prey was quick. It was armed, and though the simple weapons could not do the mud any real damage, they were enough to knock limbs aside and open gaps in the tangle, clearing a path for escape. The mud stretched so many limbs to their limit, but its prey reached higher ground and soon it could not follow. Instead it watched eyelessly as they ran towards the hills where the ground would be too dry and too solid for mud to form.

There were countless dangers ahead of them, but this one, they’d escaped. They would not be wrapped in a thousand clutching arms, would not feel the grasping fingers twist in their hearts, would not be pulled into the endless down.

As the tangle of its limbs swirled in frustrated hunger, the mud laughed. It laughed, and laughed, in joy and in relief, as the two figures vanished into the distance.

[rueren]

CMten Challenge Tiktok

***

haikyuu boys who would literally DESTROY the Cmten - Never Met! tiktok challenge thing.  you know what im talking about.  the flashing disco lights, the zoom ins, the angles, the inverted colors, everything.  

noya ... im screaming, hes bringing us all the energy you could ask for.  rockstar hands, hair is so sick, his vibes are immaculate

tanaka ... he puts so much effort. gets saeko to do some eye liner for him.  redoes his nails bc he already had them painted but he needed them better.  he takes clips outside, takes some in his room, hes putting so.  much.  effort. HES GOT RINGS ON

TENDOU ... no explanation needed ohmygod my minds rUNNING he’s doing that thing where his head turns around backwards but upside down i kNOW you guys know what im talkin about plssssss.  hes wearing chains on his belt, ohmygod stop it

oikawa ... bhad bitch period.  makes it slightly soft?  but SO MUCH SASS im screaming.  gets iwa in a clip and everyone simps over him more than oikawa and gets so salty.  bitch u cant even get mad

suga BHADDEST BITCH PERIOD...possible maid outfit?

kenma he has the aesthetic going hes just t i r e d.  hes got those criss-crossed clips in his hair, shows all of his psp’s and nintendos and switches and eVERYTHING for that one line thats like “we broke up on pictochat crying on my ds”.  i love him sm 

kuroo iconic.  everyone thirsts over him in the comments  he blew up over night.  “OHMYGOD” “sexy boi wow” “need me an edgy weeb sk8r boy LIKE THIS PLS” “hey god its me again...”.  ALSO HAS RINGS ON

suna if he tried this man is so fucking tired pls-.  he gives me the bEST stoner skater boi vibes just uGH IM CANT.  just picture suna in checkered long sleeve, graphic tee, black jeans with like some skull embroidery and chains on his belt loops, rolling one with rings on just oHMYGOD 

TERUSHIMA TERUSHIMA TERUSHIMA TERU- tongue piercing.  thats it

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Knock Knock. Who’s There? (Jasonette) (continuation of The Most Vibriant Color)

Orange. Orange was the color of pill bottles, the eyes of vampiric bats in the night, and the tint of the orange plastics that polluted the earth. Orange was the color of a shirt Jason Todd was trying to pack. The voices finally broke him into going to Paris and now he needed to pack. Jason had no idea how long he would be there, but he also had no plans of returning to Gotham anytime soon. Dick walked into the room, “Dickie boy, what’s up?”

The older adoptee stared at his brother, “Are you sure you want to leave? You just got back.”

Jason didn’t just want to go, he needed to leave. If the pit madness didn’t drive him insane, the constant way Bruce and Dick treated him like he was a bomb just waiting to explode would. They claimed they missed him, mourned him, wept oh so many tears, but in the end they had just replaced him. Jason would never be Dick; he knew it; Bruce knew it; hell, Dick himself said he would never be good enough.

The steel blue orbs bore into Jason’s making him shift uncomfortably, “Then it will feel like I never came back,” he laughed but Dick found no humor in his words, “Listen Dick, I’m not you. I’m going to be fine.”

Jason wasn’t fine, not right now, not in Gotham. He was suffocating. Loneliness was a silent killer, one worse then the Joker. Jason knew it would kill him all over again if he didn’t do anything to stop it. Dick didn’t understand, he was the golden child. Dick was the first, the better Robin, the most charming, respectful, and kind one of the Bat’s kids. He lived a good life in the circus with his family and then immediately be adopted by one of, if not, the richest men in the world. Dick didn’t grow up on the streets, he wasn’t treated like an outsider in his adopted family, he wasn’t toyed with, frayed, bruised, ripped, or mutilated like Jason. A stranger in his own body is what Jason was.

All of these feeling were internalized of course. What’s the point of talking about the emptiness that plagued him, when everyone was already moved on? Jason had no purpose anymore. Why would Bruce miss one of his thousand kids? Jason was just another passion project... right? Did he serve any real purpose to begin with? All of these thoughts stuck with Jason. No matter how much he wished they would just go away, they would stay ever fervently whirling like a tornado inside Jason’s psyche. The only way to escape them was to leave. They’d have to, if they didn’t Jason didn’t know what he’d do. This is his last hope to try and just be a kid again. A luxury Jason was never given, this is the time where Jason reclaims the innocence that was stolen from him.

He swore it. He meant it. He was going to live it.

After Dick had finally left the room, Jason finished packing. This was the final piece to the puzzle that was Jason’s future. Gotham would lose Jason Todd again, this time by choice. What good did his return do anyway. Gotham could live without Red Hood, she could live without another troubled kid, she could live with one of her kids living without her. Gotham couldn’t live with one of her babies dying again in front of her. Paris craved chaos and by Kawamii was Jason going to raise hell while he’s there. Gotham knew this, so she passed one of her favorite boys to Paris in hopes of his life being preserved. Paris welcomed him with open arms too. What about a baker’s daughter?



Orange. A color of insincerity, empty calories, a color without substance. Orange was a color that would haunt Marinette. Everywhere she turned an Ex-friend and a liar would be there trying to gain her attention. The liar spun beautiful tales of her exploits, but she also created terrors to ruin Marinette. The pathetic excuse of a reporter pestered her into helping her tabloid of a blog, “Come on! Get me an interview with Ladybug!” She would shout, “I have to know about what happened with Rena and Carapace!”

“For the last time, Alya, I’m not in anyway, shape, or form obligated to help you. I’ve made myself very clear in stating that we aren’t friends. You talk bad about me, try to ruin my commission website, and on top of all of that you expe- no, demand something of me?!?” Marinette was furious. The insolence Alya repeatedly shown to her angered her to new bounds, “You think you are in a position to be speaking to me at this moment? Alya, I’m tired of this routine you have taken accustomed to falling into. Just because you forgot your own actions, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten nor forgiven you for. If you come by the bakery again, I’ll put a restraining order on you in school and outside. You have become a stalker, I don’t want anything todo with you.” 

Marinette had to take deep breaths and close her eyes to calm herself down. 1... 2... 3... repeat. 1... 2... 3... repeat until calm. She could not risk akumitization, it was not an option. Ladybug couldn’t be compromised. Emotions are a luxury that Marinette cannot be awarded. Alya on the other hand, she had no control and abused that.

Once Marinette had opened her eyes, she saw a purple little butterfly touch and be absorbed by Alya’s frames. The exchange between the supervillain and Alya was brief, he didn’t have to say much before the glow of power overtook the glasses sporting journalist. Marinette thought to herself, ‘I can never catch a break, can I?’

Marinette ran, commanding the people to evacuate, to the nearest locker to hide and change in. Tikki has taken no time to change and showcase her new look. Ladybug had outgrown the red and black, polka dotted, skin tight, spandex. She was much too mature for that now. Ladybug was layered in body armor, away with the pigtails that feigned innocence. Her hair was now loosely pulled back by two braids with the rest of her hair down, now her suit was a majority of black. Marinette’s mask’s colors had been inverted. Ladybug was a guardian of the order, a leader, a symbol, she needed to update her look.

She existed the locker, yo-yo in hand. Ladybug swung to higher ground. She had no information on the powers of this akuma, it was time to play everyone’s favorite: the waiting game. This also allowed for Char Noir to get here in time. In the beginning Chat was a little pushy and childish, but after 5 years of fighting he became jaded and more serious in his role. He got himself a girlfriend that didn’t work out but she was there, became a better friend, and more importantly a friend. Chat was tired, the only reason he was still fighting is because of Ladybug. His lady needed someone to balance her out, so until they can find his replacement they’re stuck.

After 5 minutes of waiting and observing, Chat had arrived, “What’s the status? What happened Bugsboo?”

“The akuma’s in her glasses. Alya, was told off by Marinette apparently and couldn’t handle it. And before you say something about Marinette instigating, Alya was harassing her about an interview with me. I will not give her an interview either. She doesn’t want to fact check, fine. I don’t want to give her an interview.”

Chat sighed. This whole situation was getting out of hand. He lost Marinette. Alya is on a warpath. Lila keeps harassing him. Maybe it was time to build his ark while the flood rages. He’s exhausted of playing middleman, of losing important people, he’s tired of fighting. After this he would beg Marinette to accept his apology, but if she didn’t want to he’d understand. This was going on for long enough.

The fight itself only took around 30 minutes. Once the cure was done, Alya awoke to see Ladybug staring her down. Alya didn’t seem to get that Ladybug was infact angry at her, “Ladybug! Can I get an interview?”

“I believe Marinette had told you I wouldn’t be giving you anymore interviews,” she said with venom, she hadn’t meant to but it was seeping out. “I saw the messages you and the rest of you class sent her. All of the hate, I know you tried to ruin her website. And for the last time, I do not know a Lia Rogatonie or whatever her name is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave. Bug Out!”

Alya was left stunned. Tears stained the cheeks of the “reporter” and she realized that she had been live-streaming the exchange. All of Alya’s followers had seen her be chewed out by the savior of Paris and Chat had only nodded. It wasn’t long after Ladybug left that Chat went in the opposite direction.

Marinette landed in an ally by the airport. She had to run home now that school was cancelled. Not actively paying attention to her surroundings, she had run into a large man. He was about 6’0 (182.88 cm) and all muscle. His jet black hair had a white streak going through it, he was devilishly handsome, and his eyes. Oh god, his eyes. They were clear blue, however, there was green infringing on them. It was a sickly green too. Marinette almost drooled at the sight of the Grecian god standing before her.

He had stumbled a bit but she had fell completely on her bottom. Marinette’s face was the same shade of her old suit design. Eventually the man had helped her up with an extended hand, “Are you okay?” He asked in rapid English.

If it wasn’t for all of the lessons Jagged and Penny had given her, she wouldn’t have understood a lick of anything he said, “Umm, I’m fine. T-Thank you,” she responded in accented English.

“You wouldn’t have the directions for Le Grand Paris would you,” he switched the language on her. “That’s where I’m staying, I got lost.”

“Oh, yes of course! I could help you get there, Monsieur...” she waited for him to fill the blanks.

“Jason,” He supplied, “Jason Todd.”

She outstretched her hand again, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said with her blindingly bright smile.

The sun was setting. A gorgeous orange glow was cast over the two as they walked towards Le Grand Paris. Each thought the other as etherial being and fell into comfortable conversation. This would be the start of a beautiful friendship and possibly romance.

A/N: This was one of my favorite things to write. Thank you to everyone who likes, comments, reblogs, and thank you for sending in the asks. They make my day like you wouldn’t believe. I never expected this many people would actually like the word vomit that comes from my mind. Also, special thanks to @/abrx2002 for the idea to make this series dealing with the entire rainbow! I was just going to do red, but now I’m doing the whole rainbow. If the series isnt done by purple, I’ll do more colors. Also if I didn’t tag you, it’s because I can only tag 50 people at a time. However, I’ll tag you in the comments!

Tag list: @abrx2002 @amayakans @mystery-5-5 @normal-piece-of-shit @st0rmy-w1th1n @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @g-arya @smolplantmum @rayray384 @rosa97 @drarryismylife101 @kris-pines04 @black-streak @storyteller-d @weird-pale-blonde-person @maribat-shenanigans @vivilakitty @mycupisbroken @zalladane @gingerdaile @18-fandoms-unite-08 @seraphichana @zebrabaker @northernbluetongue @jardimazul @ranger-gothamite @grimmhallow31 @finallyaniguana @persephonebutkore @rarity36 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @hell-or-high-waters @moonlightstar64 @raisuke06 @evil-cricket @starwindmaden @kuroko26 @primeemeraldheiress @ladysblackcat @senpaiweird @loveswifi @2sunchild2 @timetomakeanewwish @theyellowfeverexperience @iloontjeboontje @vgirl-10123 @vixen-uchiha @winter-gardenflower @yokizu @risingmoonyue @semaalcocer-blog

[kathyprior4200]

Haven Hotel: That’s Disengagement!

 A princess with long black wavy hair walked out onto a high balcony. She wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed the look. Her face was pale white and teal blushes were present on her cheeks. Her eyes consisted of white pupils and dark blue sclera. Perched on her head was a black spiked crown. She was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell in a parallel world.

 “For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…”

 The princess was Coerciona Egnam, Coercia for short. She was born and raised in Heaven…though she was not at all one would expect her to be in such a place. Self-entitled and pessimistic, nothing much could cheer her up except heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

 “It makes sense that only a worthy few are able to be here in Heaven. Choosing them out of the sea of sinner scum. Yet ironically, even the saints and Heaven-born aren’t flawless all the time. It’s inevitable that all those imperfect beings will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were me. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.”

 Her servants Pub and Chub were fat white naked cherubs with horns on their heads, small white feathery wings, and black eyes. One tested the strings on an electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

 Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “Days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

 The black Exorcists did their job in eliminating part of the demon population in 2P Hell like they did every year in the canon Hell. But at the same time each year, the Anti-Exorcists, risen white demons with white bat wings and horns, invaded 2P Heaven. They carried glowing black pitchforks and turned innocent denizens into demons. The Anti-Exorcists would carry books and tempt angels with their innermost desires. Sex, sin, self-expression, sorcery, whatever that need was. Then, once they were hooked, they were stabbed with the pitchforks, causing their wings to burn off and sending them plummeting down to Hell. Nearby families would grieve at their loss.

 It was quite the entertaining show for Princess Coercia!

  Coercia leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

     (“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

  “At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

 “A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

 “Why have I always been imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

 “I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

 “Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

 “I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain”

    A nearby portal opened and out came the Exterminators, bloodstains over their wings and bodies and harpoons. They took off their creepy LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white stern face with yellow eyes and short black hair. In his utility belt were a few daggers, whips, chains and a bottle of emergency holy water.

 “Another successful purge,” their leader Samael (Venom of God) praised. “You cleansed more sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

 The angels repeated the phrase.

 “Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families. Several of the angels, having been brainwashed in their Exterminator states, shook their heads sadly at what they had done.

 All around Coercia, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

 The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them in the lower levels of Heaven. Metatron, the highest ranking angel, was busy keeping records of human lives, deaths and the messages of God.

 This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. The architecture was almost the same. But unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their pale cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

 God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. God’s abode, the Empyrean, had an elite group of angels guarding it. Seraph angels with six fiery rainbow wings guarded the throne of God, chanting “Holy, holy, holy!” much to the annoyance to those nearby. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

 Lucius and Lilian were Coercia’s parents, those who took the place of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of heaven (Under God and a few Archangels), thus Coercia became the princess.

 Lucius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. Lucius wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white feathers attacked to the brim. Lilian’s hair was long and black, and she too had the teal blushes and typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white sequined dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive.

 In a nearby movie studio, Valentine the butterfly producer, Nil the TV angel and Ashen, the doll angel sat together playing a board game. Despite liking old fashioned shows and the like, they still controlled much of Heaven’s technology and media. Iris, owner of an emporium, cried as she crossed out the name of her former female colleague, Francesca.

 Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The spider angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: six in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a teal bow-tie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes.

 “Thank you for the ride,” said the spider angel.

 “No problem, Devil Grit,” said the driver Sivart, a white furry owl guy wearing a top hat. He tipped his hat to him and drove away.

 Devil Grit walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He then gave it to a homeless guy leaning against the wall.

 He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. His opponent was already standing nervously at his spot, a microphone rising from the ground and stopping in front of him.

 Sir Anguis was the nervous white snake. He had a white face with large slightly teal eyes with white pupils. He wore a white bow tie with a blue circle in the center below his thin neck. Surrounding his face on a flap of skin were bright teal eyes against dark purple. His suit was light gray with dark purple vertical stripes. Finally, he wore a large light gray top hat with a large green moving eye in the center.

 The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

 “Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

 A couple of hands shot up. Mechanical eggs on robotic legs moved around to help out the white snake lord.

 “Oh thank you, my Nestlings,” he said.

 Air Anguis pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

 “I don’t like to fight,” Sir Anguis said, clearing his throat, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

 The Nestlings rolled their eyes.

 Devil Grit glared at his cowardly opponent who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

 “Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Devil Grit argued as he stepped to his podium, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

 Sir Anguis glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. Or was it day’s end? And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

 “Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

 “Scared Snake,” said a female voice.

 “W-who said that?” Sir Anguis asked.

 “You ready for a debate, old man?”

 The voice belonged to Berri Blossom, the opposite of Cherri Bomb in Hell. She was a tall cyclops with black skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom. She pushed her thin dark rimmed glasses up to her face, looking at her organized set of notes in front of her.

 She walked over beside her academic partner Devil Grit. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised. “Seven Reasons Why Heavenly Traditions Never Fail.”

 “You want to go, madam?” Sir Anguis asked, a spark of rebellion in him. He fiddled with a few gadgets before the well-dressed Nestling eggs…egged him on to continue. He flicked his hood back. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

  A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “777 News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

 “Good afternoon, Holy City!” smiled a pale woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy!”

 “And I’m Ron Wrench!” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had a wrench for a head.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor and coward Sir Anguis and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty Lucius, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

 Inside the break room, Phalla the romantic butterfly angel adjusted Coercia’s white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

 “Okay, you remember what to say?” Phalla asked Coercia.

 “Yes, I’m ready,” Coercia stated.

 Phalla brushed her long black hair from her face, the ends of her black hair teal. Like Vaggie in Hell, Phalla’s thick hair extended down to her legs, giving her hair the appearance of moth wings. She had a glowing green cross over her right eye and her left eye was purple with a white pupil. A teal bow was perched on top of her head. Her skin was light gray and she wore a dark gray crop top with white Xs over her breasts. She also wore leggings, her right legging striped dark green and light gray, her left legging light gray.

 “Oh this is gonna be great!” Phalla squealed happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

 “Come on, Phalla, I know what I’m going to say,” Coercia answered, crossing her arms.

 Phalla walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Phalla got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

 “Sing a song about it?” Coercia asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” She curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me serious if I start belting out some random song. Life isn’t a musical.”

 “But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Phalla pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her single purple eye shinned.

 “Romance, bleh,” Coercia made a face and Phalla giggled.

“Hey,” Phalla brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

 “They’re all highlighted,” Coercia replied, scanning the paper. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

 “Sure!” Phalla said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “sinners = winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

 “Say, that’s actually pretty good!” Coercia said with a smile of sharp teeth.

 “Thanks!” Phalla beamed.

 Coercia snatched the piece of paper from her friend and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” She tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

 Catie waved with a smile. “Hi. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand but Coercia didn’t take it, instead remarking, “You can put that away. I don’t touch commoners, I have standards.” Catie, looked stunned, pulling her hand back. “So this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

 The angel crew murmured nervously.

 “I’m gonna keep this short,” Coercia said as she walked over to the desk. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some stuffy old news lady thinks of my proposal.”

 The crowd gasped. Ron shook his head.

 “Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

 “And we’re back!” Catie said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

 “It’s Princess Coerciona Egnam,” said Coercia, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

 “Sorry. So tell us about your project.”

 Coercia took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay? If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” She pounded her fist on the desk, startling Catie.

 Coercia stood up and made her way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to impossible standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation?”

 The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Phalla nodded in appreciation.

 “Well I think yes,” Coercia continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” She walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” She spread out her arms.

 The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

 “Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

 Coercia added nervously while still trying to keep a glare, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

 Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy deer-like ears, and large blue eyes. His white wings were folded behind him. He watched the program with a look of worry. A deer creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

 A camera man shook his head at Coercia. Phalla walked up to him and pleaded, “Please give her a chance.”

 Coercia sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

Coercia then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

 Phalla clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

 Coercia showed a pair of sharp white teeth and black curved horns emerged from her head. Black feathery wings sprouted from her back and an X appeared over her right eye. A harpoon appeared in her right hand and a spiked halo appeared over her head.  She was in her dark angelic Exorcist form. She posed over the desk and began.

 (“Inside of Every Angel is a Sinner”)

  “I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

 *Guitar starts and scream vocals*

 “Inside of every angel is a sinner

Inside of every do-gooder is a beast

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion we know the least”

 “Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

 “So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

 “There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

In the tunnel of darkness you’ll go!”

 “So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

 “All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fear!”

  “Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

  “Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

  The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

  Catie shook her head. “What in the Nine Levels makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a sinful person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

 Coercia lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

 “And who might that be?” Catie asked.

 “Oh just someone named…Devil Grit.”

 “The grumpy old spider?” asked Ron Wrench.

 “He’s not old,” argued Catie. “He just acts older than he is.”

 “Anyway,” said Catie to Coercia. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

 “Oh I beg to differ,” Coercia argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks now.”

 “Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

 The news came on, detailing Devil Grit and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

 “Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Devil Grit! What a coincidence!”

 She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

 Corceria rolled her eyes.

 “I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie. “I hope you learned a good lesson here.”

 Coercia’s eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch!”  The princess and Catie fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron called for security.

 After Coercia was kicked out, Phalla followed her wordlessly to the white limo. Devil Grit, Phalla, and Coercia rode back to the hotel.

 Devil Grit lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

 “Devil,” said Phalla with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Coercia says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

 “I’m sorry Phalla,” said Devil from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

 “Not to everyone,” said Phalla. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Coercia’s project at all.”

 “I do care, senorita,” said Devil. “I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

 “I do appreciate all of your help,” said Coercia, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

 The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

 White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. There was even a lab down in the basement which belonged to a man named Baker, the opposite of the demon fish scientist Baxter from Hell. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Phalla rested on a couch while Devil Grit munched on a granola bar.

 “It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Devil Grit. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

 Devil Grit pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. Coercia just sighed and walked away toward the door. She went outside and took out her cell phone, calling her mom.

 “Carol cakes!” called her mother through the phone. Coercia cringed.

 “Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

 “Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lilian with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

 “Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

 Lilian’s tone turned more serious. “Coercia, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

 “Because,” Coercia said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it.”

 “Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

 “I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

 Lilian let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

 “And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

 “That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your life away?”

 Coercia paused in thought. “If it means proving myself and serving Him in a way I see fit, then so be it.”

 “You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

 “Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, heavy metal and watching battles…oh and watching sinners beg for their last breaths…”

 “You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Lilian replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Love you.”

 “Love you too. Bye.”

  Coercia hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door frame, closing her eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears from the stress.

  Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, four ones, then a last one. Coercia turned around with a sigh to answer it. She swung the stained glass door open. From outside stood a tall slender man with a pale light gray face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his light blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. His small antlers were white and his hair and deer ears were blue with white tips. A monocle rested under his left eye. Coercia narrowed her eyes.

 “Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

 Coercia angrily slammed the door in his face.

 She opened it again.

 “…the right address?” finished the man.

 “No!” she shouted, slamming it again.

 “Hey Phalla!” called Coercia.

 “What?” her friend asked.

 “The crybaby Deer Man is at the door!”

 “What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

 “Who?” asked Devil Grit.

 “What should I do?”

 “Well…let him in!” Phalla cried, eye shining.

 Coercia rolled her eyes and scoffed. She sighed and opened the door again.

 “May I talk now?” the man asked in a radio voice.

 “Sure, whatever,” Coercia said.

 The man held out a white gloved four-fingered hand. “Rotsala, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. Why I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many poor orphans…”

 “Hello there!” Phalla called with a smile, staring up and walking in front of him. She greeted in Spanish. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

 She embraced him and he stood stunned, his face blushing. “I do love hugs,” he whispered as she stepped back. “I bet all of you would be so nice and soft after we get to know each other for a while…”

 Phalla blushed while Devil Grit and Coercia made disgusted faces. “Not gonna happen, creep,” Devil Grit said.

 Rotsala gave a nervous laugh, and popped a strawberry and blueberry into his mouth.

 “You’re not gonna cling to us are you?” Phallas asked. “Or, you know…”

“Dear, if I wanted to screw anyone here…I would’ve done so already.”

 Rotsala tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale gray cheeks.

 Phalla watched in bliss, while Devil and Coercia rolled their eyes at the show-off.

 Rotsala shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

 “No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

 “Say what?” Coercia asked, eyebrow raised.

Rotsala held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

 He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

 “That’s your motivation motto every day?” Devil Grit asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

 “Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Phalla squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s…denouncing.”

 Devil Grit elbowed her. “Hun, could you not get attracted to every other man you see?  I’m your boyfriend.”

 “I can’t help it, love!” she cried. “I just get so distracted easily.”

  “Um…you want to help?” Coercia asked.

 Rotsala appeared behind them after morphing into light.

 “With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

 “Uh…why?”

 Rotsala choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

  “My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

 Coercia rolled her eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

 “No,” Rotsala said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

 Coercia brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel? That life is meaningless without your own self to temporarily control it.”

 Rotsala sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! I think there’s plenty left that can change such marvelous saints. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” Coercia asked.

 Rotsala turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves up the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

 “Right…” Coercia began.

 “Yes indeed,” Rotsala said, both of them walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

 “Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Devil Grit asked.

 “Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Phalla asked. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

 Devil shrugged his shoulders.

 “The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven as ever seen?”

 “Eh, I’m not too big on people.”

 Phalla sighed and leaned in close to explain.

 “Decades ago, Rotsala manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of overlords and archangels who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout Heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy and emotions. Saints starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

 “You done?” Devil asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man. Either way, you’re delusional.”

 “Well, I trust him completely!”

 “Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

 Phalla skipped over to Coercia. Rotsala examined a family portrait of Lucius, Lilian and a young Coercia in the center. Young Coercia wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. Her hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, her cheeks had teal blushes. Her mother had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Her father was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

 “Coercia, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. He could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

 “I…” Coercia began. “…we don’t know that. Look, he’s a crying bitch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

 Phalla put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

 “The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws, their true selves! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

 Coercia looked downcast. Her friend had a good point. She hated when people made good arguments against her. But it also gave her a chance to consider her thoughts. Phalla kept her grounded and added some cheer to her overall fake afterlife. Coercia smiled at her.

 “You take care of yourself,” she said to Phalla.

“Coercia,” warned Phalla, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

 Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture and damnation.

 “Don’t worry,” said Coercia. “I learned one thing from my dad.” She mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

 Coercia marched over to the Techno Angel.

 “Ok Mr. Rot... You’re prissy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

 Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Rotsala, then vanished.

 Coercia continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be themselves. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

 Rotsala twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

 The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Phalla’s and Devil’s faces.

 “Nope!” Coercia yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

 She paused in thought.

 “As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

 A moment of pause…

 “Sound fair?”

 “Fair enough,” Rotsala said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished.

 Rotsala stopped and spotted Phalla to the side.

 Phalla went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his shock.

 “Smile, deer man!” she said.

 Rotsala walked on, speechless.

  “So…where is your hotel staff?” Rotsala asked Coercia.

 “Uh well,” Coercia began. Rotsala peered at Phalla through his monocle below his left eye.

 He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

 Rotsala walked over to Devil Grit, who was sitting on a stool.

 “And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Rotsala walking over to the dark furred spider, blushing.

 “You can suck a dick,” Devil retorted in a grumpy tone.

 “AH! Ok,” said Rotsala, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

 “Fuck off,” Devil added, pulling out a long knife from his belt.

 Rotsala summoned his cane. “Well this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

 He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Rotsala walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single purple eye was revealed.

 Devil Grit, Phalla and Coercia peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

 “This little rascal is Klutzy!” Rotsala announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

 A black-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark green skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and stick-shaped. Several blue dots stood out from the lighter green color of her skirt. Her shirt was black with cyan paint spots off to the right. Her large eye took up much of her pale white face; it was dark blue with a white pupil. Her short hair was teal with a dark blue spot off to the left.

 “I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen strangers.”

  Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

 “Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

 She briefly picked up Coercia, then let go.

 “Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

 “It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flower pot onto the rug.

 “Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

 Phalla, Devil, and Coercia looked on in worry, Rotsala just stared off into space. “She has quite the temper sometimes.”

 A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

 He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

 “What in Heaven’s name is going on?

 Then he brightened when he saw Rotsala. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed, his head briefly looking like it was in between antlers from a stuffed deer head on the wall. “You made it.”

 “Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

 The cube vanished as Rotsala looked on.

Core raced over to Rotsala and embraced him in a side hug. The deer-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

 Rotsala blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

 Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here?”

 “My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

 “You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

 “I don’t think so,” he replied.

 “You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

 “Maybe,” Rotsala sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

 “I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

 Rotsala appeared behind him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

 He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

 “With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

 Core lifted up the corners of Rotsala mouth with his paws. “Aw come on, Al, Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

 His mouth frowned once he let go.

 Rotsala walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

 He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

 Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

 Coercia, Devil, and Phalla arrived.

 “Yes, yes, yes!” Phalla squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

 “No!” Coercia protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages sin! Not some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play…”

 Core noticed Devil Grit and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

 “Go screw yourself,” muttered Devil Grit.

 “Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Rotsala will watch you.”

 Coercia leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You are going to go insane here!” She grinned, her teeth sharp.

 “We’re all mad here,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip.

 Rotsala walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

 Rotsala ran over to him. “This is horrible!” she spat.

 “It’s amazing!” Phalla beamed.

 Phalla leaned in close between Coercia and Rotsala, embracing them in a hug.

 “This is going to be very disengaging,” Rotsala exclaimed. Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry. He stepped away from Phalla. “Coercia, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you.”

 Rotsala changed his light blue suit into a dark blue funeral outfit with a matching top hat. He did the same with Coercia, Devil Grit, Core, Klutzy, and Phalla, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. Coercia wore a short tan flapper dress and a round matching ladies’ hat. She and Klutzy stared at their outfits in disgust, while Devil Grit, Core and Phalla smiled as they stared at theirs. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and deer antlers.

 “Take it boys,” Rotsala said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

 Rotsala sang his reprise to Coercia as they did a slow dance. Coercia looked annoyed but Rotsala smiled.

  (“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

 “You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

  “Don’t bring your life to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

 “Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

 “Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

  An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

 The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

 Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying metallic eggs. A familiar snake debater appeared.

 “Look who it is harboring the striped annoying opponent! We meet again, Rotsala!”

 “Do I know you?” Rotsala asked.

 Tears came to Anguis’ eyes. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

 The eggs danced in the air, singing a song about Sir Anguis trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

 Rotsala giggled and blushed. “Your baby weiner havor?”

 Anguis looked up from his cards in anger. “Not like that, pervert!”

 Rotsala snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal eggs knocked into Sir Anguis and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

 Rotsala used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

 Sir Anguis emerged from the crater, arm shaking, fangs shattered. Rotsala waved a hand and the snake was healed.

 “Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal egg beside him. Sir Anguis face-planted on the ground.

 Rotsala looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

 “Anyone hungry?” Rotsala asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

 Rotsala lead the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

 “Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

 Rotsala waved his finger at the lit up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

 The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

 “Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

[glitterbootsharry]

Two- Witchy Woman

Disclaimer: I do not know much about witchcraft or anything associated with it besides the few tv shows and movies I have seen. If I have gotten anything wrong or mixed up, please feel free to let me know. I want to get as much right as I can as I have done some research, but I know I do not know a lot.

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I bite at my thumb pad as I look my dilemma in the eye and time is running out. Rowan will be here soon, and after making the last clean up check, I decide that my bleached tee isn’t good enough for the small study session. Two button up shirts lay on my bed, covering the blue plaid quilt my mum bought me when I first moved out- she cried as she pressed the nonexistent wrinkles out of the thick fabric with her hands, tucking the corners neatly under the mattress. My eyes divert between the two. They’re the same, in reality, just inverted colors of the other. The white droplets on the black silk. The black droplets on the white silk. I walk over to my top drawer and search for the matching neck scarf that I insisted on buying, giving my older sister another reason to roll her eyes at me. I hear a sudden knock on my front door and in haste, I pull out my answer to my dilemma.

“Coming,” I call out, buttoning the white droplet shirt. I ruffle my long curly hair before rushing to the front door, my shirt half-buttoned.

I turn the knob, holding my breath as I watch Rowan come into view. Her hair is pulled into a neat ponytail hoisted high on her head and she’s wearing a black graphic tee that her sleeves rolled up. “Hi,” my voice croaks as she stands outside my flat door with her backpack on her shoulders. The black velvet chicken lays across her throat as it tighter as she smiles softly at me with her mouth parts slowly.

“Hi.” My hand grips the brass knob tightly as I lean against the wooden door, crossing my legs in front of one another. I become all too aware of how long I look at Rowan, drinking in her brown eyes and drowning in her glowing skin. I want to stare at her all day- she could be doing nothing and I would be intrigued.

“Can I come in or are we studying out here?” She cocks her brow up at me, a sly smile forming on her mouth before I push the door open completely forgetting the reason she came here for.

“Oh, erm, yeah,” I rub the nape of my neck, embarrassed as I motion her through the doorway. She walks past me, her shoulder brushing my chest, and I smell the sweet scent of flowers. “How are you?” I close the door and follow her into my living room. It’s small, with only a couch, television and its stand and small coffee table in between the two, but it’s one of my favorite places in the flat. She sits down on the cream leather couch and begins to dig through her bag.

“I’m fine,” she says as she pulls out two copies of The Tempest. “Didn’t know if you had a copy so I grabbed one from the store. If that’s okay?” She hands me the red used book, corners of the pages slightly torn from the previous owners’ use. I suddenly feel warm as I stand in the room, all too aware of my looming presence. I sit down beside her, looking over the book before realizing that my own book is in my bedroom. “Thanks,” I hold up my gift before gently opening the cover. Inside was a new inscription from the gingerly handwriting that I have just now come in contact with.

“I owed you.”

I smiled as I turned the page and began to read the play again. I can’t help but notice how close we’re sitting next to each other, feeling the electricity nearly flying through us. I clear my throat as I try to concentrate on the printed words, but her slow breathing fills my ears. I adjust my black jeans and run my hand across the length of my jeans, wiping the slight sweat away. It was too much for any man to bear, being in the room with Rowan, let alone being this close to her. My pinky could reach over and touch the exposed skin of her knees and I’d melt into liquid. I look over at her, her brows furrowed in concentration, and I feel my heart begin to race. The black ink tattoo behind her ear is of a crescent moon and stars creeping onto her neck. “Do you want some coffee? Tea? Crisps?” I ask, finally breaking the heavy and unbearable silence between us. Rowan looks up at me, completely exasperated, and smiles softly, placing her hand in the crook of the small book with her pencil stuck in her ponytail.

“Sure,” she says, her voice melodic to my ears. Her eyes are dark when looking up at me and I feel my throat run dry and I can’t seem to watch her watching me. Normally, I’m calm and collected around women- I can chat them up all the way to my bedroom to pull my leg over, but Rowan… She makes me nervous when she walks into the room with my stomach in knots. “Whatever you have is nice. Don’t go and make a fuss because of me.”

You’re worth the fuss, I think to myself. What is going on, Styles? You’re never like this.

I shake my head and leave the living room to Rowan. The kitchen, though small, is big enough to let my thoughts out. I think Rowan’s beautiful, yes, but why am I so nervous around her? She’s just my classmate and we’re doing a project together. Calm down.

The kettle hisses at me, letting me know it’s ready and I pour it into a teapot, grab two cups placing them with sugar and milk on a small tray my absent father gave me two birthdays ago and tuck the half empty bag of crisps under my elbow. I walk back into the living room with Rowan on the phone, her voice frantic.

“You sure? Is she okay?” she asks, turning her body into the couch when she sees me. “Alright, erm, I’ll be right there. Thank you, Mary.”

She looks up at me with pleading eyes full of regret before she speaks, her voice barely above a squeak.

“I’ve got to go. It’s me Gran.” She stands and proceeds to shove her book into her bag before she walks out of my flat, but not before I place the tray down on the table with a force that I never meant to use, rattling the porcelain dishes.

“Wait, let me, at least, walk you down,” I call out, running after her as I rake my hair in frustration. I closed the door, half running after Rowan as she glided down the stairs. She’s in the car park before I can break ground. The sound of the engine spurring fills the air. She tries to turn the engine again, again, and again until I reach the opened car door.

“You’ll flood the engine that way. Be no use to you then,” I say, my smile trying to calm Rowan down. “I can take you.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Harry,” Rowan’s voice breaks, tears spilling down her face.

“You didn’t ask, love, I offered. C’mon,” I nod my head back to my flat. “Let me grab my keys and wallet and we’ll be on the way, yeah?” Rowan nods as she stands outside her car. I hear the slamming of her door when I turn to leave and a hushed, “Fuck.”

***

“It’s down there. First little dirt road on your left,” Rowan points at the small brown path that barely lets my car fit on its way. It was a quiet thirty minute drive to the small village Rowan calls home. Shere- the small town that never lets any new business go unnoticed. Rowan busied herself calling Mary again to check in, letting her know she was on the way. I pull up to a small weather worn red brick house with flowers planted in every inch of ground that could be except for the small gravel pathway that leads you to the front wooden door. Roses, tulips, daffodils, wildflowers- Rowan had every flower that one could have, but the majority of the vast arrangement of color were roses- pink, yellow, purple, red. Vines and moss creep up the brick of the house with no intention of stopping.

“You want to come in?” Rowan asks as she begins to climb out of my car. “Be a shame that you came all this way without a proper cup of tea and a thank you.”

“You want me to come in?” I ask, but Rowan pushes the front door of her home open by the time I climb out of my car. She left the front door open for me and when I walked in, the strong scent of flowers and chocolate hit my nose.

“Gran?” Rowan calls out, her eyes frantic as she walks into the front hallway. “Why don’t you wait for me in the parlor? Gran should be coming soon.” She turns her head looking back into the open sliding glass door into the back garden. “Erm, she’s got a bit of a memory problem so…” She looks back up to me, tears brimming over.

“Go,” I say, “I’ll find the parlor. Don’t worry about me.” Rowan smiles, graciously, and walks into the back garden, which unsurprisingly, has more roses and plants within eyesight. I wander around the small home, the cozy air reminding me of my childhood one, before I find the small unused parlor. Book line the walls- all the way from Poe to Everything to You Need to Know about Herbs. I run my finger over the spine of a small leather book labeled “Astarte’s Book of Shadows”. I pull it from the row, the leather claiming the books that sit next to it. It feels heavy when I finally have it in my hands and I have an urge to open it, but the feeling fades when I hear Rowan’s voice.

“Gran, you can’t do that. The cookies were burning. You scared me. What if I-“

“Ya Amar, you cannot worry about such things. I’m fine. How was your reading with that tall boy you told me about?” A sweet, but stern voice spoke back at Rowan’s concerns.

“You were sitting on the garden wall- the high one. But,” Rowan sighed. “My car wouldn’t start so he brought me. He’s in the study, Gran. Behave.” A small elderly woman that looked almost like Rowan with a crooked back turned into the room. Her skin was tanned like Rowan’s but with white long hair in a braid. Her skin, wrinkled with sun spots, was also covered with small tattoos. She looked up at me and smiled before sitting down on the blue couch that I was standing behind. I placed the black book back on the shelf and sat down beside the aging woman. I extend my hand and introduce myself.

“Harry Styles, madam.” She looks at my hand and smiles. Her fragile fingers wrap around my pinky, pulling me towards her. She places her other hand over the top of mine before speaking.

“You know she likes you too. Only one who's ever been truly nice to her. Alice Lloyd.” She lets go of my hand and laughs softly as she was in a small joke that I was unaware of.

Do what? I think. I never said…

“You didn’t have to.”

“Gran, behave.” Rowan brings three cups in one hand. I try to stand to help her, but she shoots me down. She brings an antique teapot. She gently pours tea into the three cups, smiling as she hands Alice her cup and as she hands me my own, her smile is full of gratitude.

“Quite a garden you have,” I say speaking to both women. “It’s lovely.”

“Gran started it when she moved here years ago. I just try to keep it up,” Rowan sits down into the chair opposite us. Her hair is down, small tendrils falling into her face as she blows into the small cup.

“You do more than that, ya amar. You put the new basil bush in just yesterday. Don’t sell yourself short, love,” Alice sighs before turning to me. “You from London, Harry?”

“Just outside. Holmes Chapel in Cheshire. My mum owns a pub there in town.”

“How nice,” Alice looks at my shirt and I’m all too aware that my shirt is nearly unbuttoned, exposing my two swallows on my chest and the butterfly on my torso. I clear my throat as I try to casually button the rest of my shirt. “You go to the university, as well? English major? Let me guess, you want to become a writer?”

“Gran,” Rowan’s voice is short- her eyes not faltering from her tea.

“Well, it looks like the fun for me has run out. The adventure outside has taken me so I think I’ll retire to my bedroom for the evening. Good meeting you, Harry,” Alice motions me to lean closer to her with her finger and when doing so, I feel the slight wet kiss on my cheek. I smile before speaking, “Nice meeting you Gran.”

Rowan helps her grandmother up and when they think they’re out of hearing, I hear the small whisper, “He’s got dimples, Rowan. Quite handsome. Don’t mess this up.”

I smile, my dimples evident, as I hear Rowan’s small, but grand response, my heart overwhelming with joy and wanting.

“I won’t. As long as he doesn’t.”

###

@awomanindeniall​ @sunflwr-styles​

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

First Time Dad, First Time Ghost

When Cole was alive, he had been cousin to two of his quintet, and Team Dad responsibility had hardly been his.  Now he gets to learn his friend’s struggle as instincts overtake him and he maybe adopts an elritch abomination.  Good thing he’s already dead.

I said I’d have the boy Adopted and I meant it!  This is all I got so far but uh here’s the AO3 link and have fun reading!

Cole would be hard-pressed to actually say what spurred him on to do one of the dumbest things he could’ve done since he died. He saw the emerald mists of the Realms swirl around violently, felt the drag of a whirlpool around him, and just barely flew with the current enough to escape the ergosphere, and then in a flash, there was a metal hexagonal frame surrounding a new gateway to one of the living Realms. In that same flash was a scream, and Cole had heard enough screams so many screams they were louder than the thunder, worse than the lashes, as bad as being held down by that damned earthen hand to know that it was a child . Really, what reason did he need beyond that?

He floated through the portal with a caution that his cousins had tried to hammer into his head with his own maul, letting his vision spread naturally to all sides of him. The walls were a reflective metal, and tables covered in measuring tools, papers and computers littered the room. Sat on the tile floor and bathed in the light of the void were children, one in all black, one in greens and yellows, and the final one wearing something black and white that covered near every inch of their body. That one happened to be glowing with the aura of the freshly dead, pale blue skin lined with glowing green lighting scars, and a cloud of glowing white hair curling around his head. Shit, this is bad .

Settling himself on the ground, Cole held up his hands where the kids could see them. They were huddled together, clinging to each other and staring at him with wide eyes. “Hey there,” he said in the calmest voice he could, knowing that he was at minimum drizzling onto the floor over just how small they all were. “My name is Cole, Cole Lumano. What’re your names?”

One of them, the one in black and purple with half their hair shaved off, stood up in front of the other two. “Y-you may call me Sam,” they said, holding back enough of the tremble of fear in their voice to avoid stuttering more than once. Cole was impressed. “Why… why are you here?”

“Well, I felt the fabric of spacetime get spun around and yanked on until a hole opened up, and I heard a scream. Like any sane ad-like any responsible adventurer would, I charged in to see who needed saving from what.” The white-haired one snorted and winced, holding his throat. “Looks like I was a bit late, though. I’m sorry for that.”

“I,” the ghost kid rasped, “I’m Danny. I…” Danny furrowed their brows, clearly looking for any words to say, and Cole sighed.

“Hey kid, no rush, alright? You’ve kinda got eter-” There was a flash of light, a blinding circle of pure white that shrieked star song so loudly in his ears that Cole willed them away if only to escape the discord. Thankfully, it faded in the second it took for those rings to travel along Danny’s body because getting rid of his ears didn’t exactly work to keep out the noise. When the light faded, Danny was inverted in color: white suit, black hair, brown skin, his eyes weren’t even glowing anymore. For all intents and purposes, Cole was sure he was looking at a human child. “Well shit.”

“Wh atthefuck what the fuck what the fuck- ” Danny was stringing together a few more swears and their other friend in the glasses was holding onto them, tears their eyes, babbling just as incoherently, but Cole couldn’t focus too much on them. There was a knife being pointed at his face in a shaking hand, and in the radiation of the portal, he had no guarantee the knife would phase through him easily.

“What did you do to him?” Oh, that phrase brought back memories upon memories. Cole was certain he’d like this one.

“I didn’t do anything, kid. But I do think I know what happened to you, Danny.” Careful make his steps as heavy as they were in life, to make sure he was audible and obvious in his approach, Cole got closer to Danny a couple of steps at a time, an eye kept on Sam. “I’ve read about your situation before, though not in these exact circumstances - it was never reproduced in a lab since that’s beyond unethical.” Danny curled in on himself as Cole got within arm’s reach, and he took a step back.

“You- you’re…” Danny took several breaths, alongside the other boy, who was holding Danny protectively while staring at Cole like he was made of lightning. He wasn’t though, he took a moment to check even. “You’re a ghost.”

“Well, yeah,” Cole said, shrugging. “I can’t remember when it was I died but I sadly did happen to do that.”

“B-but you’re nice. Ghosts aren’t nice.”

“Danny shut up,” the other boy hissed in his ear. “This is not the time for that.”

“Tucker-”

“Danny, we do not want this ghost to suddenly stop being nice because you offended him.”

“Ya know, I appreciate the reasonable caution that Tucker here is espousing. Many ghosts would feel at least a bit offended by that kind of gross generalization. Let me tell ya now, though, kid: a person’s ghost is that very same person, just with a body that’ll last an eternity or so.” Danny was shaking now, eyes wide and slowly glassing over. “Look, Danny, I have an idea of what you’ve become - I was born as a pretty close approximation - so how about I help you figure this stuff out when you wake up?”

Danny, trembling with the effort to stay awake in the face of a paranormal ‘threat’, looked at Tucker and then Sam. There was a brief, silent communication that only lifelong friends could have. Danny nodded, then passed out in Tucker’s arms.

“Well,” Cole said after a long silence, “the first thing you wanna do is take him up to his room and get him out of the clothes he died in. Take these.” Cole handed over hailstones with runes carved into them to both teens. “They will not melt unless heated by a ghostly flame, and when you say my name into them with the intent to call me, I’ll hear. Now, I’m gonna head out and do some research, but y’all go ahead and get Danny settled and then, I dunno what you do to process but uh. Yeah.”

Waving, Cole flew through the portal back into the Realms, and let out a sigh. “What have I gotten into?”

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾Won’t Leave You: Chapter 3 (Pain vs Flame)🐾

The first thing that Ochako Uraraka noticed was that it was extremely hot. It was this severe heat that had roused her from her deep sleep, abruptly waking her as the heat rolled over her like ocean waves. She used one arm to push herself up into a half sitting position when a sharp jolt of pain shot through her side and down her legs. She couldn’t hold back the scream that escaped from her mouth as they pain rocketed through her, and only managed to stifle the sound by biting her fist. 

She didn’t know where she was, everything was pitch black, suffocating her senses as if she had been packed into a hole filled with sand. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and reached a tentative hand around her in a small circle, trying to avoid stretching her wounds as she searched for some sort of weapon or tool to use. When she found nothing in her immediate circle, she stretched forward just slightly, searching for anything, even a small pocket knife to have at her disposal. She sucked in a breath at the pain but forced herself to lean farther forward.

Suddenly, her hand touched something cold and smooth, a refreshing feeling against the stifling heat. Forgetting her pain momentarily, Ochako launched forward and curled her fingers around the object. The pain reminded her of its presence as it returned in full force, nearly knocking her back with its ferocity. Ochako bit her fist so hard that she bled, her teeth puncturing four tiny slits in the side of her hand. Tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes but she did not care to wipe them away as she took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Her heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel like it was beating at all, fluttering wildly in her chest like a hummingbird trying to escape a cage.

As her breathing and heartbeat finally slowed to a more normal pace, she lifted the object that was still clutched in her hand and brought it up to her face. One quick sniff told her it was metal, and she inwardly cheered, hoping it was some sort of weapon. She ran her fingers over the object, keeping her pinky in the air to avoid floating it away on accident, her finger pads dragged over the smooth object, feeling out its shape. It felt curved and although it was smooth on one side, she discovered that it was inverted on the other side like a sharp, long trowel. As her fingers explored the object more, she found that it had extremely sharp tips and a huge dent that fanned out on both edges of the narrow object, creating sharp broken pieces of metal that fanned out from the original object. She could not determine what it was but figured that she could try to use it as a weapon should things come to that.

She looked around, trying to discern anything from the thick darkness, a small light or a hole somewhere that would allow her to find help or an exit. That was when she remembered her phone. Her eyes went wide and she brought her hand quickly from the metal object to her pocket, digging around for the familiar item that she always kept with her.

“You won’t find what you are looking for in there.” A voice echoed softly from directly in front of her.

Ochako yelped and scrambled away from where she had been laying, ignoring the white-hot pain that stabbed at her side and legs. Her heart was in her throat, leaping to escape, and her breathing had turned so ragged that she was struggling to get air into her lungs without a burning feeling setting her throat on fire. She instinctively dropped the metal object, covering her side wound with one hand and holding out the other hand defensively, as if that would help her against an attack.

Suddenly, bright lights flickered on, washing the whole room in a blinding white light so that Ochako had to cover her eyes with the hand she had been holding out in front of her. She forced herself to open her eyes, blinking back the tears that the light brought to her eyes and peered through her fingers, looking for the owner of the voice that sent chills racking through her body despite the heat.

As soon as her eyes were adjusted enough for her to see, she saw a man slumped over in a comfy armchair, his arms draped lazily over the armrests and his face covered with a goggled mask. She also noticed what she had been holding and managed to scoot farther away from him despite the pain. She had been holding one of his metal claws. The metal claw rose from where she had dropped it on the ground like a snake who had just awoken from its deep slumber, snapping its pointed tips menacingly. Ochako put a hand to her mouth, trying to control her shaking as she drew her eyes away from the claw and settled them on the man in the center of the room.

The man lifted one arm lazily to his face and pulled off the mask in a simple, fluid motion. The green lens of the goggles glinted in the white light as he pulled the night vision mask from his face. He took a second to blink away the effects of the bright light and wiped away the sweat at his brow before turning his gaze to Ochako, who was half sitting up, half laying down in a puddle of her own blood. He raised two fingers to his brow and rubbed his eyes with a frown on his face.

“Tsk tsk this is such a mess,” he said.

At first, Ochako thought he was talking about his crime and the amount of damage he had caused to the town but then he gestured to her broken body with one of his metal claws.

“There is blood all over my floor, I meant to recharge before you woke up and ‘clean it up’ but that didn’t quite go according to plan.” He said with a growl.

Ochako swallowed her anger and kept her mouth shut. If she was to survive to see another day, she needed to be smart. He had given her some information, he needed to recharge and it had taken longer than expected. It wasn’t much, but she raked through her mind in search of a way to use that information against him.

The man then stood up abruptly, the chair shooting out from behind him and his claws raising to their full height beside him. Ochako counted eight claws in total, snapping their tips like the jaws of angry alligators.

That was when the memories all came back. Walking with Deku through town, getting groceries for Sato, being cornered in the alleyway by an eight-armed villain, seeing Deku launch to the nearest store to get help, the bullet soaring through the air, almost in slow motion as she bolted after it, leaping in front of it at the last second. The rest was all dark so she assumed she had been knocked out after that point.

She had been shot.

The realization hit her nearly as hard as the pain had, shock electrifying her bones and setting her side on fire. She gasped and removed the arm that was covering it so that she could see the damage in the bright light. All of the color drained from her face as she saw the blood seeping from the hole in her side like a thick red ink spilling onto a blank page. She tried to shift her position, to get an even better look at the wound when pain shot through both her side and her legs. She glanced at her legs and the sight almost caused her to faint. Her legs were twisted at odd angles. They were broken.

“What happened to my legs?” Ochako managed to choke out after a moment of silence.

“I broke them.” The man said simply. “I can’t have you escaping now, can I?”

“What do you want?” Ochako asked, her voice gaining a slight edge of confidence as she let her anger seep into her muscles.

“Oh, but if I told you that, it would not be a surprise would it?” The man replied with a cold chuckle that drained what little courage Ochako had gained.

Even so, she set her face in the most determined look she could muster. If she wanted to see her friends, Deku and Iida and the rest of class 1-A, and become a hero, she needed to stay focused and not give up no matter how difficult the situation got. The villain saw the look she put on her face and broke into another small fit of cold chuckles.

“Going to fight me now, are you? With two broken legs and a shot to the side?” He laughed aloud this time, his laughter echoing around the stiflingly hot room, bouncing off of the metal walls and dousing Ochako in its cold shadow.

Ochako failed to suppress a shudder as the chill of his laughter settled on her shoulders. Noticing this, the villain stretched his legs into a lunging stance, his head and back as low to the ground as he could muster while keeping a straight back and remaining standing. He looked like a lion about to pounce on a broken zebra.

“Well then,” he said with an evil smirk. “Good luck.”

Even before he had finished his sentence he had launched at Ochako, both his normal and metal hands outstretched for her. Biting down on her fist to keep from screaming, Ochako twisted her body and used her arms to throw herself just out of his arms’ reach. She was lucky that all of his arms had been facing forward rather than some of them blocking the sides of the room, which had enabled her to make a hasty escape from his grasp. But at a cost. Tears streamed down her face and she could barely see in the haze of pain that blanketed her vision, her mind exploding with yellow and red spots. She swayed, her arms barely able to keep her body off of the floor which had now somehow increased in temperature. The heat burned the exposed parts of her body such as her hands and face but the pain was so insignificant compared to the other injuries that she barely felt it.

Ochako managed to raise her head enough to look back at the villain, who was standing and shaking the dust from his hair that had cascaded upon him when he had hit the wall from the momentum of his jump. He turned now to Ochako, a wicked grin on his lips as he saw her body barely able to function.

“So, you are willing to break yourself to win, is that right?” The villain asked. The sentence sparked a memory in the remnants of her viable thoughts. Her mind brought up a watery image of a green haired boy with bright green eyes and a wide smile that lit up the day.

Deku

Ochako felt herself get slightly stronger.

I have to be like Deku, she thought as she forced her mind to exit the cloud of pain and focus on the task at hand. She shook her head with a quick jerk and forced herself to turn to face the villain. He smiled at her maliciously with a smile that met his eyes. He was genuinely happy to be causing such pain to her right now. Her anger bubbled up over her pain but she kept her face in a look of despair, waiting for him to attack again. It didn’t take long for him to launch at her again, this time fixing his last mistake by stretching two of his claws on either side to catch her if she tried to dodge to the left again. Luckily for her, this was what she had been counting on. She forced her legs under her and shot from the ground similarly to Tsu with both her arms and her legs, and reached her hands out like a cat. Splaying her fingers, she managed to grab ahold of one of his metallic claws. Again, she inwardly cheered as she pressed her finger pads against the startlingly cold metal, a light pink light emitting from them as she activated her quirk.

Like she had anticipated, the claw lifted above her head, rendering it useless. If she had been stronger, she would have bolted under the arm to touch the villain’s exposed side to render him useless as well but that maneuver had cost her even more than the last one. As she rolled underneath the useless arm and away from the villain, she could not even prop herself up on her arms. Her bare skin on her arms and face burned on the hot floor as she lay there, unable to do anything to stop the pain from pumping through her like electrical jolts or the blood from leaking from her body.

Although the villain had once again fallen for her stunts, he had braced himself more and had launched with less fury, resulting in him avoiding hitting the wall. He was able to whip around almost immediately and pounce on Ochako. Four metal claws lifted her from the ground, the other ones (minus the useless one) pointed at her like sentient knives. She gulped but could not do anything more to stop the villain. The villain began to laugh his horrid laugh once more when he stopped dead. The claws that were not occupied whipped around and pointed at the ceiling. They opened up like blooming flowers and a bright light flashed from their centers. After the bright light had faded, the claws closed and opened again, this time facing the wall. The lights now turned on for longer, projecting what they had caught on their cameras onto the wall. Ochako’s whole body went stiff as she recognized the dark green hair of the first figure and the hero costumes of the other three. She tried to hide her surprise but couldn’t, the shock was written on her face as if with a pencil. The villain caught this and looked directly at her, his lips breaking into the foulest smile he had yet given her.

“Ahh… more playthings for my lovely claws.” The villain said.

Quick as a flash, the metal claws that were not holding her reached around and grabbed ahold of her legs, pulling and twisting them. Ochako let out one horrible scream before the black haze of pain overtook her senses completely and she fell away from consciousness.

[therisinggear]

Ghost Of a Chance. Chapter 1

A Ghost of a Chance!: The Ghost Queen's Slaughter!  

                                                          ~Amity Park- Three years ago~

The town of Amity Park, a town tied to the paranormal. Ghosts from other dimensions have invaded the living plane of existence time and time again. Most are just relatively normal people. While others are, for lack of a better term Supervillains. Because of the influx of evil ghosts, one young hero fought to keep the peace. 

Danny Fenton was just fourteen when his parents built a very strange machine. The Ghost Portal, It was designed to view a world unseen. During its test run, it failed to activate and it was left to collect dust in its parent's lab. 

One day on a dare from his friends made him put on a Jumpsuit and go inside it. "I still think this is a REALLY bad idea, Sam! Have you ever even seen The Fly?" Danny tells her before he accidentally presses the On button, activating the portal with him inside with the help of this horrifyingly dangerous design flaw. With a bright green glow, Danny's screams in agony. His friend Tucker holds Sam back when she tries to run in and get Danny out. "NO STOP IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!!" Tucker screams at her.  

"LET ME GO TUCKER If We Don't DO ANYTHING DANNY IS GOING TO DIE!!" Sam screams as she kicks Tucker in the stomach. He drops to the floor with the wind knocked out of him. A changed Danny stumbles out, staggered by the experience. His black hair is now snow white and his blue eyes now glowing green. The white/Black jumpsuit had its colors inverted. 

After that Life changing day, Danny gained the abilities of a ghost. While learning his new abilities became a hero. At one point even saved the earth with every ghost he ever fought.                

~Three years Later~

After fighting ghosts for three whole years, Amity Park has had ghosts become an everyday part of life. With Danny becoming a literal symbol of Ghost and Humans working well together, Ghost has been given rights as citizens. Some of Danny's old enemies gave up antagonizing humans and got real jobs. 

Sidney Poindexter got his GED and became an Anti-bully activist. He actively reduced bullying in schools by telling kids how he took his own life because of it.

The Hothead Ember Mclain made it big as a legitimate performer with a record deal. She may even be going platinum soon. 

Hell, even The Box Ghost got a job with FedEx.

One day, Danny was out buying new college prep books when he spotted another one of his old enemies in the coffee shop, looking depressed. Desiree the wishing ghost is waiting for her coffee, dressed in a suit.  She appears worried about something, checking her watch. 

"Oh boy this can't be good."  He mumbled to himself, trying not to draw her attention. He starts to feel sorry when she pays for her coffee. A heartbroken Desiree just stares blankly at her phone. Soon she spots him in the distance and politely waves while grinding her teeth. "Fantastic, My date stands me up and now I have to deal with the Phantom boy!"       

 "Oh man, I'm so going to regret this later." He awkwardly waves back at her before gesturing to her he is leaving. Danny walks away with a sigh of relief. "Talk about awkward running into a former enemy!" Without paying attention he bumps into Desiree. "Ahem!" 

Danny would have jumped in shock if his Ghost Sense didn't already let him know she was right in front of him. Desiree looks down at him with her arms crossed. "What do you want, Phantom?" An enraged scowl on her face before she notices the books in his hand. "Oh, you didn't come for me!" She calms down a bit and even laughs. "Forgive me, I've not been in the best of moods."

Danny laughs, nearly dropping his books. "I was just as surprised to see you, Desiree! I almost went ghost like the old days out of habit." The former adversaries laugh at the whole situation. "So how are you, Desiree? By the get up I'm assuming you've gone legit like a lot of other ghosts."

"Yes I passed the bar exam and I'm now a lawyer." She clarifies with pride written on her face. "I happened to order two coffees and my date decided not to show up, care to join me?" 

Both of them return to the coffee shop and have a friendly conversation, like the hostilities of their past is now gone."Your date sounds like a real dumbass to stand you up. So you chose to be a lawyer? I have to admit I never saw that one coming. The Box Ghost working at FedEx I saw a mile away, but this takes me by surprise." The ghost boy admits to her.

"In the last three years, I've tried many different jobs but being a Lawyer had the most appeal, so I committed to law school. Getting a GED was the First real challenge because the last time I had a formal education was two-thousand years ago. " She points at Danny's books while taking a sip. "So how about you Phantom? You look like you are getting serious in your studies in these peaceful times."

"I want to be an astronaut one day and with the lack of Ghost fighting, I've had more time to study for it. Good riddance too, I never really liked all the non-stop fighting anyway. Like the first time we fought, You kicked my butt big time before I made a wish." 

"I hope one day my wishes can come true," Desiree mumbled to herself with some regret. "The one thing I can never have."

"Your own Kingdom if I remember that gypsy's story right." Danny muses out loud. Desiree shakes her head with a sad look on her face. 

"That was just a superficial legend, not the real story. What I really wish for is something I never had."                        

~Fenton labs~

Four years after Danny got his powers from the ghost portal, the constant battles always took their toll on him every time but he always bounced back. From the Box ghost to the former ghost King, he always came back stronger. However, he might have his hands full this time. His many enemies began the unthinkable. They somehow found a way to make his ability to feel the incoming presence of another ghost useless. Under the command of the new Ghost Queen, they went after his friends and family one by one. 

Wave after wave of the Ghost Queen's minions worn the now eighteen-year-old ghost boy down. Soon he was overpowered by her most fearsome henchmen, Beaten to the point he could not fight back. 

He is on his knees in a Burning laboratory as his two most powerful foes looming above him. The Fright Knight, the spirit of Halloween and an evil older copy of himself from another timeline called  Dark Danny. "Games over kid it's been over before it even began!" His evil parallel self-boast. Dark Danny lifts Danny by the neck, strangling his younger self while charging up a blast in his other hand. Danny is too beaten and bloody to fight back. "Time to DIE!!"     

Danny almost gets blasted through the stomach before the Fright Knight cuts Dark Danny's arm off. "Her Highness the Queen ordered us to bring him to her alive!!" The Knight snarls at his partner. An enraged Dark Danny throws a swing before the Fright Knight has a blast aimed at his head. "And I've been given the freedom to eliminate you if I see fit!"  

Dark Danny stops baring his teeth at the knight and regains his cool. "You know, I liked it better when you served me in my timeline." He drops Danny and reattaches his arm. 

A terrified Danny tries to crawl away but is too gravely injured to get far. "D-Danny?" His sister Jazz is buried under rubble, in tears and reaching out to him as she bleeds out. Dark Danny picks Jazz up off the ground by the hair. A sadistic smirk on his face as he looks down at Danny. "Hello sis, miss me?" Jazz spits blood in his face as a last act of defiance. "Go To Hell!"  

"You're already here Jazz, and you are about to meet the devil herself?" He puts her in an ectoplasmic bubble along with Danny. "Lucky for you, she did say to bring at least one living family member." 

He waves his hand to make a Ghost Portal. 

~Ghost Zone~

The two villains enter it, on the other side is a massive palace in the Ghost Zone. Various ghosts and humans on their knees in the throne room. A ghostly servant blows a horn, "Presenting The new Ghost Queen! Her Highness Queen..." A tall busty woman with an hourglass figure walks down a dark corridor, her red eyes shine in the darkness before she enters the light. Her skin is brown with glowing veins marks all over her arms, veins that change between red blue yellow and green. "...Desiree!"

The (Former) Wishing Ghost sets on her new throne, giving Danny a lustful leer. "Bring him closer and release him." She orders her henchmen, her eyes never leaving the ghost boy. Dark Danny makes his Ecto-Bubble vanish, he kicks his younger counterpart towards the foot of Desiree's throne. The barely conscious Danny can't keep his eyes open as The Ghost Queen gingerly caresses his face. "And I had this grand speech planned and you deliver him to me almost dead!?"

Dark Danny laughs smugly with fangs before a look of rage takes over him. He is looking at his hand as he is being removed from existence in green fire. "We had a deal! I give you what you want, you give me what I want!", He screams. 

Desiree picks Danny up bridal style, her expression is cold as she glares at Dark Danny. "Your results are unsatisfactory, enjoy existing no more." Dark Danny disappears, vanishing within the flames.

~Hours later~

Danny wakes up in a large bed with all his injuries healed. "Where am I?!" He gets out of the bed only to fall on his face, his legs feel like jelly. "Oh great, I'm in enemy territory and I can't walk or go ghost!" Arms wrap around him as a pair of soft lips kissed him on the cheek. He spots the Ring of Rage on her finger. He sees Desiree's new look like she is almost human again. The flaming crown of her head gives him a clue, much to his horror. 

"The numbness will subside in time, but you need to rest," Desiree whispers into his ear, her embrace getting tighter when Danny struggles to get loose. "Desiree, is this really you? What did you do to yourself!?"              

She puts him back in the bed. Danny then remembers Jazz was with him. "Jazz, what did you do to her?!", He shouts at her.

"Healed up and resting in another room. As for what I did to myself..." She puts her right hand up to Danny so he can see the glowing Ring. "...I transcended beyond a ghost or my original humanity, with the power of the former ghost king's ring and crown." 

Danny looks at her with abstract terror. "You took those from him?! Do you have any idea what those can do?! If your not careful you can destroy the whole ghost zone and the earth along with it!"

"Worth the risk, I am making an empire, one where ghosts and Humans can be equals. I'm just about finished all I need now is..." Queen Desiree forces him down onto the bed, She Kisses Danny while holding him down. She moans loudly, forcing her tongue down his thought.      "...a king to rule beside me!~"

All Danny can say is a flat, "W-What the fuck!? Those things are making you crazy!" His eyes were wide with shock and confusion. "What does this have to do with me anyway?!"  

Desiree while still on top smiles warmly, laying next to him.  "It's Very simple Danny.~" Her voice is sweet, yet has an undertone of insanity. "You and I marry then rule a glorious empire as Husband and Wife."

"I'm a little young for you, don't you think? I only just turned eighteen." He asks Desiree with a sliver of fear. 

"TIME OUT!!"  

Time is frozen in place and when it starts Danny is gone. "Oh, no Worries Your of age now. Wait..." The Ghost Queen looks around the room before flinging into a rage. She fires a blast that destroys a wall. "Clockwork!" 

Queen Desiree flies out so fast she makes a sonic boom.   

~Clockwork's Realm~      

Clockwork the master of time opens up a portal in time. A weakened and injured Danny has a Time medallion on him. "If you wish to Save all of the creation, go now!" The normally calm Master of time screams in panic. 

Danny limps into the Time portal and in a flash of light is gone. "DANNY!!!" The Ghost Queen screams blows open the wall. *BOOM!* She conjures skeletal arms to bind Clockwork and depower him. "Clockwork Your queen has questions regarding her consort! Return him to me and I'll show you mercy and even forgive your crimes!" 

"Danny is already gone and you can't get to him. You may be seemingly omnipotent with the power of the Ghost King but even You have no power over time!" Desiree blasts him into oblivion, leaving no trace of Clockwork. With a snap of her finger, The Fright Knight is Summoned. 

"Follow Danny and bring him to me no matter the cost!"

"At once your majesty!" Her knight with his orders enters the portal. 

Queen Desiree descends into maniacal laughter. "I will have you, Danny! Even if I have to rip apart time and space! So I wish it so shall it be!!"