#as we would tumble into shared insanity

[strawberrycowtime]

hi *pokes you* *pokes you* *pokes y

it’s all fun and games until i start screaming like ive been stabbed (immediately) and flail around like a headless chicken (also immediately)

(pokes you back)

[thebearer]

No bcs i love lip and innocent (secretly a whore) reader

Imagine him taking her home to meet the gallaghers (v, kev and mickey included bcs the are gallaghers too... not up to debate) and them going at it in his room and she just puts him in the craziest positions for hours, and when they finish lip is just like: arms and legs spread ou face flush.

He just stops his whore phase, nothing compares, jackpot right there

fucking in his childhood bedroom??? his family's downstairs and she helped cook, clean up the kitchen, all sweet with gemma and amy, answering kev's millions of questions, just giggling at mickey and ian's banter all sweetly. they're like how the fuck is she with lip but also... how the fuck did lip get her??? he's so rough and she's so sweet.

they go "to bed" and something about the tiny bed, the millions of posters that lip blushes at. he doesn't have to share anymore, thank god, and the two of you stay the night instead of going all the way across town to your shared apartment.

"pretty noisy mattress." you hum, sitting on the squeaking springs with a small grin. "got a lot of use, hm?"

"stop." lip shakes his head, blushing. "guess we can't fuck, huh? sucks, because you with the babies? kinda did it f'me."

"yeah?" you laugh. "we don't have to stay on the bed." you bat your eyes at him. "or, we can be really quiet."

fifteen minutes later, you're on top of him, your head in his groin, sucking his cock like your life depended on it. playing with his balls, pressing your thumb to the rim of his asshole- which he was still getting used to. lip was furious at how turned on it made him, hips bucking and whimpers tumbling out of his mouth when you'd always cheekily thumb it. his hands gripping your thighs, moans muffled by your pussy, a free hand fingering you slowly, sloppily. the bed was quiet, except for a few hip jumps when you'd suck his balls.

his family, the ones still in the house, talking about how lip had really lucked out, how you were so sweet it was insane. lip loved it, loved that debbie and ian and mickey would bombard him with "how the fuck did you manage that?" because little did they know. he hoped they would never know.

[bluesylveon2]

LOVE (Ace Trappola x Yuu/Reader)

Summary: Four instances in Ace's life where he starts to view Yuu/Reader more than a friend

Note: Inspired by "L O V E" by Michael Buble, set in canon, mention of another magic school, the first years teasing Ace, and fluff. This all happened because I saw some aceyuu posts

Edit: made some minor edits!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: fem Yuu/reader, not beta read, some cursing, cringey teenage boy stuff, and possible ooc characters

Masterlist: here

L is for the way you look at me

Chaos. 

All around Ace was chaos. 

Riddle's cackle resonated throughout the rose garden; other Heartslabyul members threw spells left and right, and blot was everywhere. Everyone's eyes were set on the Heartslabyul housewarden. However, Ace had something else in mind. 

"Look out!" Was all Yuu heard before a familiar figure tackled her to the ground. The stray spell that would have hit her landed on a rosebush instead. 

Ace protectively held Yuu as they tumbled in the dirt. The redhead pivoted his body so he protected Yuu from the ground. 

"Are you okay?" Ace frantically asked, letting his hands wander to search for any injuries. 

"I'm fine," Yuu coughed and got off of Ace. "You need to go and stop Riddle. I'll find Grim and-"

"Are you insane?!" Ace yelled. "I am not letting you fend for yourself, and Grim is still new to magic. I'm your best bet here."

"Ace…" Yuu said in a warning tone. She started to move but was stopped by someone grabbing her wrist. She yelped as Ace pulled her towards him and held her protectively. 

"We are getting out of this together, whether you like it or not. Stay behind me, and don't lose me," Ace said, looking into Yuu's eyes with determination. To this day, Ace still could not explain what happened to him. All he knew was that he wanted to protect Yuu. 

A few seconds of silence passed until Yuu let out a sigh. "Fine but don't let me die."

Ace grabbed Yuu's and squeezed it.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Yuu."

O is for the only one I see

The cafeteria was loud with chatter as the students discussed the female student representatives of an all-girls academy coming to visit NRC because of Crowley's way to "strengthen relations with other institutions." It was no secret that a school full of boys would not talk about it. Especially when the only female on campus was the local school therapist, lived in a worn down dorm, and had a cat monster. 

"Did anyone get a glimpse of the girls visiting today?" Epel asked as he cut his apple. It was lunchtime, and the first-year group ate at their unofficial but official table. 

"Yeah, Big Brother was so nervous during his part of the tour that I ended up leading it for him," Ortho sighed with a downward look on his face. 

"I'm surprised by how cordial Leona was with them," Jack admitted. "I understand Leona's kingdom respects ladies, but seeing him do a 180 is weird."

"Speaking of, has anyone seen Yuu? She needs to come down to eat," Ace took a bite out of his sandwich, his eyes scanning for the Prefect. 

"She's currently providing her portion of the tour since the Headmaster insisted Ramshackle goes after Diasomnia." Sebek's voice brought Ace back to the table. "Then she will eat there with the guests with food catered by the campus ghosts. At least that's what Waka-sama told me." 

"Good, at least the Headmaster did something right for once.” Jack nodded as he and Sebek shared an unspoken agreement. "She should save herself from these guys." His ears flickered from an unpleasant conversation he did not want to hear. 

"I'll say," Deuce joined in. "You should've seen some girls keep staring at Ace, asking him questions and stuff when I was right there!" He glared at Ace. "That was not cool, man."

"You're just jealous that you don't have the rizz to pull a girl."

"Why you!" Deuce grabbed Ace's collar. 

"Would you date one of them, though? If you got the chance?" Epel asked. Deuce froze and let go of Ace, eying him curiously. Silence filled the table, minus the background noise from the other students. 

"Me? I'm good with not dating anyone yet. 'Sides, I'm already busy looking after Yuu a lot." Ace laughed, but no one joined him. Instead, they looked at him with shock. "What? Was it something I said?"

"Well…" Epel said, his eyes flickering to anyone but Ace. "That's not what we expected."

Ace raised a brow. "What did you expect?"

The first years looked at each other, unsure how to respond, until Sebek slammed his fist against the table. "Human! You should put away this silly nonsense and eat! I cannot have a weak human beside me. It will embarrass Waka-sama!"

"Geez, I didn't even start it." Ace rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food. 

Those girls were not even his type anyway. Who needs them? He would rather spend time in Yuu's company as friends than have a repeat of his last relationship. 

At least, that's what Ace tried to tell himself. 

V is very, very extraordinary

"And so, the Ice Queen found love between her and her sister. Their sisterly love thawed the ice out of her kingdom, thus solving any crisis before it could become an eternal winter.” Professor Trein closed his textbook and eyed the class. “Does anyone have any questions?"

Ace held back a laugh as Yuu's hand went up in eagerness. Luckily for him, Deuce remained fast asleep during the lecture. 

"Yes, Yuu?"

"And what happened to the brave princess? Did she ever find her own happy ending?" 

"Yes, she did. Even though she did not have magic, the princess defeated her wicked fiance and then…" Ace ignored the rest of Professor Trein's ramblings and glanced over at Yuu, who was focused on writing a book full of notes. 

Despite being magicless and from another world, Yuu was interested in nonmagical courses such as History and Alchemy. In fact, she had a higher grade in those courses compared to ADeuce.

Ace watched as Yuu asked yet another question regarding the two sisters. An amused smile formed on his face. 

If Yuu had magic, she could be like the Ice Queen. Then again, she is more like the sister. Energetic, blunt, awkward, has a nice smile-

Wait. 

Ace shook his head and cringed. Since when did he care about her smile? What kind of guy thinks about those things? 

The bell rang as Ace battled his internal thoughts, unaware of Deuce waking up beside him. 

"Is it time to go already?" Deuce asked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

Yuu walked up the steps to join the duo while holding Grim in her arms. 

"That lecture was so interesting! To think that love was the solution for a kingdom all along." Ace watched Yuu's eyes light up as she shared her thoughts about the lecture. The smile on her face reminded Ace of the sun. "Ace, what did you think about the lecture?"

"I think your smile is cringe," the redhead blurted out, causing Yuu to stop and Deuce and Grim to facepalm. 

Yuu stared at Ace in confusion. "Uhh, okay? Your smile is cringey, too, I guess?" The poor girl was lost. Since when did this become a topic?

Ace was beating himself up mentally while Yuu's attention turned to Grim, who was demanding for some tuna. 

"Way to go, dude," Deuce whispered, elbowing Ace's side. "Way to show how much rizz you got there."

"Shut up, Juice!"

E is even more than anyone that you adore

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Jack asked as Epel trudged to his seat and slammed his tray on the table. The Pomefiore boy let out a big yawn as he sat down. 

"I agree. Improper sleep will put you behind in training," Sebek said as he eyed Epel. 

Ace glanced from his messages with Yuu, who was fighting a cold back at her dorm, to the periwinkle-haired boy. "Yeah, the dudes are right. You look like shit."

"Shut yer trap you-" Epel froze and glanced over Ace's shoulder. Despite being on the other side of the cafeteria, Epel could feel chills from Vil's bombastic side-eye. "I mean. I was having trouble sleeping last night because of a certain someone." 

"Yeah, your stress levels are higher than normal. You can nap in my dorm during your break if you want." 

"Thank you, Ortho," Epel said and took a bite of his toast. 

"Who's this someone so I can teach them a lesson?" Deuce put a fist into his palm and had a murderous look in his eyes. 

"Just one of my roommates. He keeps going on and on about Yuu lately." 

Ace froze and suddenly choked on his breakfast. Luckily, Jack was there to slap his back. 

Yuu? Of all people? Sure, she is known for being around seven overblots and surviving, but her fame wasn't enough to keep someone awake. Let alone sing praises of like a lovesick prince. 

"Why is he talking about her?" Ace managed to spill out after he regained his composure. 

"He keeps praising Yuu for her kindness-" someone snorted at that, but Epel ignored it. "Looks, how perfect she is, and whatever nonsense he can go on about. He even started writing poems about her too! I swear if I hear this guy talk about how Yuu's eyes look like diamonds one more time. Aah'm 'unna put a sock in his-"

Again, Vil's glare carried despite being far from the first years. 

"I mean. Tell him to be quiet. Because that is what I can do." He said the last part through gritted teeth and glared at his housewarden. 

"What a simp," Ace commented, and everyone nodded in agreement. “I low-key feel bad for the guy. Yuu is not going to give him the time of day."

Deuce raised a brow. "And what do you mean by that?"

Ace held his hands up and shrugged. "I'm just saying. A guy who acts all princely and cute for Yuu? No. She deserves someone fun and imperfect like her. A person who she likes to be around. Someone who can help steer her away before she ends up somewhere dangerous."

"Oh really?" Sebek looked at Ace with interest. "And do you, perhaps, have someone in mind for the human?"

"Duh, dude. Me." Ace said confidently and smirked, giving himself a mental pat on the back. 

The other first years stared at him in silence. Then they all had the same shit-eating grin on their faces. Even Ortho had one despite having the lower half of his face covered.

Their looks made Ace realize what had come out of his mouth. 

Oh shit. 

The boy blushed bright red. 

"Wait! No! That is not what I meant to say! Forget all of that!" Ace exclaimed in poor defense. The other's faces remained unwavering.

Deuce had an infuriating smirk splayed on his lips. "Oh, we heard you loud and clear, right guys?" 

Jack joined in on the teasing. "Can't fool me. I heard it, too."

“You got it all wrong! I do not like Yuu like that!” Ace yelled but his red ears said otherwise.

Sebek crossed his arms and grinned, clearly enjoying the show. "Hmph, you humans should never doubt a fae's hearing. For I heard the human declare his worthiness to the Prefect." 

"Okay, now you are making things up!"  

Epel's face lit up in glee. "Well, then, that's great news! I can tell my roommate to pursue Yuu since Ace clearly does not see her that way. Sure, I am sacrificing my sleep for this, but at least Yuu will have a good guy."

"Are you saying I am not a good guy?!"

Ortho let out a sad exhale and slumped his shoulders. If Ortho could cry tears, he would've used them now. He laid a hand on Ace's shoulders in sympathy. "It's okay, Ace Trappola. I will try to convince Yuu to make you her Man of Honor."

"THAT'S IT!" Ace yelled, startling Ortho. The redhead was clearly fed up and red like Riddle’s hair from both embarrassment and anger. Ace stood up, grabbed his tray, and walked off in a random direction. 

"And where are you going?" Deuce yelled out. Ace flicked him off as he threw away his trash. 

"Anywhere away from you losers!" Ace started grumbling as he made his way out of the cafeteria to blow off some steam. 

The other first years watched silently and let Ace walk off. They did not want to anger him further, but they were also proud that Ace was somewhat honest about his feelings for Yuu. 

"Uh, isn't the Mirror Chamber that way?" Jack asked and pointed to the opposite direction from where Ace went.

Deuce smirked, his eyes following Ace's figure. "Looks like he is going to Ramshackle instead. Probably to check up on his future girlfriend." He turned to Ortho. "Did you get that all recorded?"

"Yes, I did!" Ortho grinned victoriously. "I also sent a copy to the Prefect and stored another copy in my database."

“Hmph, that will show him,” Sebek said with a proud look. 

Epel rubbed his hands together and looked at the other first years, who all had the same expression. "Perfect. I can't wait to see the look on Ace's face when he sees it."

Ace was in for a surprise when he made it to Ramshackle. He was also very embarrassed to see the recording come back at his wedding reception. 

A/N: idk if anyone could tell but I lowkey cringed at having ADeuce say "rizz" but they are teenage boys so they might as well 😂

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-24. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[pacificwaternymph]

i have been having flower ranchers thoughts, and was wondering if there were any ideas youve been rotating in your mind but haven't said anything about yet?

they're such silly little guys

I know everyone seems to agree which empire Tango would end up if he were plopped into season two (I mean, Tumble Town, the ranch, Jimmy, ya know), but what about season 1?

I feel like he'd avoid places with a lot of water like the ocean and the swamps, because of his whole association with fire. And I feel like he'd avoid areas with a lot of foliage like... the overgrown, the undergrove, or the jungle since there is a LOT of flammable material there.

My first thought actually was Pixandria or Mezalea, since they're the hottest and driest, and also Tumble Town is in a mesa and the Vigil in Pixandra with all the candles... idk I feel like you could do something with that.

But then if we also take into account that one skin of his that has like the blue hair (which from what I've seen no one can agree on whether that is ice or blue fire), then maybe he's an elf who lives in Rivendell? Maybe he's... idk, the keeper of the ancient elven library, or resides in a series of catacombs beneath the city.

I think... the idea I like the best is having him in the Grimlands, since they seem to be very innovative and technology based, and also they have their whole lore with the redstone which fits in nicely with what I know of Tango.

Maybe he's an advisor to Fwhip, or otherwise close to him, and he and Jimmy get to have a nice little enemies to lovers arc. Jimmy starts having flashbacks to double life (if we play around with the timeline here) while also having flashbacks to 3rd life and has no idea what it means. He remembers two different husbands from two different lifetimes, but he can't remember their faces, and he doesn't know why but his heart starts to pick up and his face flushes every time he imagines that arrogant elven king and that unbearably smug redstoner from the grimlands.

Meanwhile both Scott and Tango are having dreams of a husband with golden hair and equally golden wings, dying in front of them, and they don't know what it means. He feels real, real enough that they want to find him and be with him again. Maybe they discover each other's dreams and start trying to find their shared husband together, and fall in love along the way. And they're both developing crushes on the Codfather the more they see of him.

But obviously it can't be Jimmy, are you insane? They said wings, he's a fish. (They're all so stupid /affectionate)

I started out with no thoughts at all and then you dragged this from me. Thanks lol this was fun to think about.

IDK, I'd love to hear other people's ideas for season 1 empires Tango.

[justin-chapmanswers]

If you don't mind me asking, is there any old Inanimate Insanity video that isn't available, lost media if you will. The only thing I can think of is the audition for fan character in season 1, it was mention on episode 5.5 and the Taco Show. I wonder if there is a way to view these video again, maybe saved somewhere. I think they are important part of the history of the show, but I understand if you don't want to reupload these video.

Golly golly. I think that pre-5.5 video is the main loss in terms of things that never got saved anywhere, especially before the hacking/deletion incident. There's also no record of the Inanimate Insanity Audition video, but that was on DuncanEpic not AnimationEpic. Nothing crazy about it, but a neat little archival of all the original character designs and requested audition lines. Bonus would be if there were video responses also still embedded, I watched all of those auditions back in 2011 so many times to see if I felt I could be the frontrunner for any of the roles.

Paper also gets the short end of the stick haha. Nothing that was uploaded, but I recorded two or three things for him in that 2011-2012 window that were started and never made. There was a short written/voiced with the start of animation starring Paper that I really remember super little about. Except for like... I him having a tough day and then tumbling down a hill. He was also the main guest on The Taco Show 2 (I think it was going to start inviting each contestant on to guest after their elimination?). Also don't remember anything from that script except for the fact that Knife was introduced late as Taco's bodyguard and he had to forcibly remove Paper from the premises. Paper had a repeated string of bad luck in all of these, which by-coincidence was replicated with the gag someone added into FFF 4.

And of course can't forget the Friday (Rebecca Black) cover music video that was organized by Nate Groth and started animation. Starring Balloon, with his pals Nickel and Knife. Good times.

But yes! The recommended character video you mentioned earlier, that was a FINALIZED gem lost to time when the April-August 2011 slate was wiped from the channel. STORYTIME.

Adam was going away to camp for the Summer, and he left Nate Groth and me with channel access and each a different responsibility. Nate was to create from scratch the entire video that asks the audience to submit a recommended character for consideration to join the game. Nate and I would pick the ten concepts we liked the most, Adam would pick which of the ten joined the game. It was like a five minute video narrated by Knife explaining everything.

Meanwhile, just Adam gave me episode 5 to upload on August 1st (in a time before scheduled videos). And Nate was not having it.

Nate felt like getting to upload an actual episode as opposed to the recommended character video was a MUCH cooler job. Envious, while Adam was away at camp and in the days leading up to August 1st, Nate changed the password to the account and locked me out in protest. I had to calmly address the situation, remind him of how awesome his recommended character video is, and assure him he can do the next episode upload whenever Adam cannot do it (which would of course never come to fruition cause he was only on the team for another month or so).

Nate shared the password and the episode got out on time, but Adam was frustrated with what happened and understandably locked out everyone else from the account. Nate, of course, got back into the account via (admittedly easy) security questions a few weeks later in his next fit of rage and deleted all of the videos- ironically, erasing his own video creation for all time.

[banjjakz]

notes: major character death; gojo satoru is not a good person (we know this); direct continuation of geto suguru's route; if you have not completed the good end may you rest in pieces.

➡ Sneak out of the fire escape.

The thought of trying to navigate your way even further through the deep, dark bowels of this strange place fills you with a fearful repulsion – and not the good kind. While you got off quite lucky with such a faithful encounter with Geto, you shouldn’t get cocky. After all, the security guard from earlier could still be lurking around…imagine if he caught you in such a state of obvious erotic disarray: hair mussed, knees scraped and bruised, face flushed, lipstick smudged…you can’t imagine that would go over well.

Steeling your nerves to do something truly unhinged, you begin to search for the fire escape.

At least you aren’t jumping out of the window, or something insane like that – albeit, sneaking out of the fire escape is a little out there, even for you.

But you no longer inhabit the normal and upright world. It is almost as though you are now floating through reality, your soul wandering through life in an ambiguously disparate state, hopping from absurd situation to absurd situation, motivated by little more than the capricious nature of your arbitrary whims.

It's not like you have much left to lose, after all. The most important thing to you – perhaps the only important thing to you – in your life is ShinShow. And you’ve just achieved the highest goal of any dedicated fan: ultimate recognition.

The eventful evening’s erotic high and the delusional adrenaline coursing through your veins gives you the courage not only to locate the fire escape, but also to slip through the dingy, rusting door and shimmy down the rickety, narrow steps. Even by Japanese standards, the contraption is quite small. Several times, you almost lose your footing and go tumbling down over the railing. Instead of instilling you with healthy fear, the near-accidents only serve to propel you forward with renewed vigor each time you brush closer and closer to impending mortal injury.

As soon as your chunky platforms hit the worn concrete, now back on solid, stable ground, you find it difficult not to deflate a little bit. What a night! What an experience! And you have Geto Suguru’s personal LINE ID to show for all of it…how are you supposed to return to your ordinary, mundane life after such an experience?

The thought depresses you. Work, school, family, friends…it all pales in comparison to the evening you and Geto shared together. Oh, if only every night could be that way!

But that would be selfish of you. Geto is a leader, after all; an inspiration to many, and an idol to all. To usurp him for your personal pleasure and only yours alone would be doing a disservice to his life’s work. You recognize that you must share Geto-sama, as much as it might pain you to do so.

“I don’t wanna share him,” you mumble to yourself, aimlessly launching the decrepit corpse of a crumpled beer can across the alley with a limp, half-hearted kick. “Geto-sama should be all mine…”

In the desolate boughs of this seedy in-between limbo sandwiched between towering buildings of various questionable services and wares, your pathetic utterances should be private, unheard by only your own self-pitying ears.

Operative word: should.

“Haha. That’s a funny joke!”

Your heart drops faster than you can turn around. By the time your body processes the shock at not being alone (seriously, when the hell did someone else get here? You’ve been loitering for several minutes, at this point!) the owner of the unfamiliar voice is already entirely too close for comfort. One moment, the snarky quip bounced off of the aged reinforcements of a residential building several paces away – but now, as you pivot on your heel to confront the stranger, your nose is but a hair’s breadth away from painfully colliding with a wide, solid chest clad in nondescript black cloth.

When you finally glimpse his face, the first thing that comes to your mind is that he’s definitely a douchebag. If the bleached platinum faded undercut weren’t bad enough, this asshole is wearing sunglasses at night. His over-six-foot stature is worn with a sort of self-reverential pride; he carries himself like he knows he’s probably the hottest guy in any room at any given point in time.

How annoying.

This is why, outside of ShinShow, you don’t really care to interact with the male species. They’re all cocky, self-assured, greedy, immature, uncaring, inconsiderate morons! Nothing like your hard-working and self-made idols…ugh.

Just being around this dude makes your skin crawl. Not in the sexy way.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, cutting him a sharp glare with wide, whaling eyes as if to actually convey the more sincere message you hold for him within your heart: get the fuck lost, creep.

But when you go to rush past him, his body moves – again with that mind-numbing, preternatural speed – and you run straight into his annoying firm and solid abs.

Oh God, is this it? Is this really how you are meant to depart from this world? You would’ve preferred to be sent to hell by Geto’s hand over anyone else’s…

Despondent and kind of over it, you direct a firm stare upwards at this asshole’s infuriatingly unbothered smirk. “What’s your problem?”

“You,” says the stranger, simply, distracting you with his blindly white smile so that it is far, far too late by the time you realize that both your wrists are now incapacitated by one of his large, strong hands. “Don’t struggle. It won’t make a difference. Or do! It would actually be kinda funny to watch.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You demand, instinctively jerking away and finding his grip to be even more iron-solid that it had initially seemed – if that was even possible. “Let me go!!”

When you go to kick him, you find that your perception of reality shatters apart like glass skittering across kitchen tile in a million, tiny, irreparably disparate fractured pieces.

Your foot cannot connect with his body.

The more force you put behind your futile defense against your assailant, the more frustrated and exhausted you become. How can this even be possible? It’s like there’s an invisible paper-thin shield dividing you and him – and yet, despite the thinness of the protective layer, the intimate proximity of your limb and his infuriatingly chiseled torso, there is an endless ocean of space that separates you. No matter how hard you try, you cannot touch him.

You cannot win.

How this is even possible, you haven’t the faintest idea. Some sort of illusion? An advanced kind of electromagnetic technology?

Horror dawns upon you like a red sun on the horizon: there’s no way you can escape this.

The stranger is a seasoned and well-trained predator, that much is for sure. He senses the fight leaking out of your body as a shark might follow the intoxicating scent of blood in the water. He pursues your misery with a keen appetite, one that threatens to devour you whole.

“You’re almost cute,” breaths the strange white-haired man, crowding you up against the brick wall with little more than the oppressive force of his presence. “I can see why he thought you’d be easy.”

A stab of familiarity pierces clear and true through your thundering innards. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about… “Do you know Geto-sama?”

The bastard has the audacity to laugh in your face. His breath is annoyingly minty fresh.

“Oh, wow. You actually call him that? I thought it was just an inside joke between him and the fans, or something. Hah! That’s really good. That’s just too good…” He, honest-to-God, wipes a tear from his eye, underneath his sunglasses.

Even the precarity of your dangerous situation is not enough to cow the bullish indignancy that flushes through you, hot and temperamental, at the suggestion of a perceived slight against your (new?) oshi.

“Hey,” you grunt, chin checking up towards the sky, “you shouldn’t talk that way about Geto-sama. He’s really hard working, and such a good leader…the best there ever was or could be.”

“The best,” mulls the stranger, one large hand descending to stroke his jaw. You can’t tell if the gesture is more a mockery than it is a genuine display of sincere pensive contemplation.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

And then he leans down, easy and natural as breathing, as blinking, lips coming to ghost along the crest of your quivering, hypersensitive ears:

“I already know that.”

With viper-like speed, his fist shoots up to close around your throat. “You don’t think I know that?” You’d sputter out a response if you could breathe. Or think.  “Sweetheart, I’ve been here before that statement could even be said to be true. You could say we’re high school sweethearts. My one and only, he is.”  

Oh, fuck.

Oh, God, oh, fuck.

Did you just mess with an OG fan?

Crap, this is bad. This is really, really bad. Never did you think you’d fall victim to the string of violent, sometimes deadly assaults that ravaged the streets of Kabukichou. But pissing off a dedicated wota by getting caught fucking around with their ultimate oshi is one of the fastest ways to find out!

S-sorry, you try to mouth as your weak, floundering hands doing nothing to persuade his grip into loosening, even just the tiniest bit. Didn’t know!!

“Don’t care~,” sing-songs the stranger, strangely cheerful given the circumstances. He’s not normal. It hits you quite belatedly. Even for a superfan, he isn’t normal. “No one told you to go around playing with other people’s toys~”

You don’t stand a chance. This is the end.

His next retort slips out as a simpering purr: “Good girl. You’ve accepted your fate.”

Can he read your mind, or something? This is seriously a scene out of some horror movie…

“For that, I’ll spare you. Quick and painless death it is! Simply deleted from existence. All your icky atoms and particles will end up somewhere in Timbuktu, probably. Hopefully. How does that sound? For a masochist like you, that’s almost a worse fate, I suppose.”

Huh?

“Huh?”

“Bye-bye~”

The last glimpse your poor, foolish mortal eyes catch of this cruel world are the slight peek of his startlingly blue over the rim of those opaque, black sunglasses. As you lose consciousness, in the split second before your existence is entirely wiped out from this chapter of reality, your vision blurs, doubling, then tripling, his bright, cerulean eyes appearing to you not as two, but six. They are everywhere, all-seeing, surrounding you, bearing down as the heavens might itself upon the woeful frame of a mortal slated for smiting. Soon enough, the six double, then triple, then multiply so fast that all you can see are rows and rows and rows of wide, unblinking, omniscient eyes. Staring. Judging. Tracking.

Why does it feel familiar, this sight?

[MAY YOU REST IN PEACE.]

ENDING ACHIEVED: GETO SUGURU BAD END 2

SECRET ROUTE UNLOCKED: RYOMEN SUKUNA.

> PROCEED TO ROUTE [coming soon!]

[undobutton]

hi! can i request for a suna x reader where suna has like a huge crush on the reader and the twins always tease him about it but he keeps hinting to you that he likes you but the reader just doesnt have a clue?

warnings: Swearing, clueless reader, ooc... everyone?

reader: gender neutral!

genre: slice of life. kinda fluffy at the end

characters: Suna! Atsumu, and Osamu

synopsis: A day out at the arcade with your pals, what can go wrong?

a/n: i haven't written for any haikyuu chatacters in a while so i apologize if everyone is ooc i will work on it! also so sorry for the long wait anon, hope you like it though!

Suna is fond of his friends, for the most part. They get along with ease and work well as a team. Leading them to countless victories and fond memories made (Despite the school believing they aren't necessary.)

Well, he was fond of his friends until two of them found out about his romantic feelings for their team's manager, Y/N. Now he doesn't know peace.

"Y/N," Atsumu called, you'd been waiting for your three friends to show up so you all could walk down to the arcade near your home and beat your high scores (and make a few kids cry) It was one of your favorite ways to spend Saturdays when you all were free. Though for some reason, over the past few weeks, the Miya twins have insisted on leaving early for increasingly silly reasons.

"Ready to go?" Osamu asks, holding a hand up to block the sun from his face.

"Yep! You three are the ones who're late. Let's head out."

You fall into line next to Suna, who has been silently scowling since they arrived. "Why the long face Rin?" You ask.

"Hm? No reason, planning on how to kick Atsumu's score down is all."

You smile at his response, not paying attention to what the twins are saying while you and Suna try to decide which place you should go to eat later.

.

.

.

"And that is how you do it!" You proudly proclaim to the three boys, Atsumu pouts, watching his name tumble down the leaderboard as yours rises.

"Haha, they toasted you 'sumu" Osamu laughs shoving his brothers shoulder.

"You're name is lower than mine! what're you bragging about?" Atsumu whines and Suna grins from behind his camera. He was recording your record-breaking run for future reference.

It's been like this for a bit, though the twins keep taking a concerning number of bathroom breaks and whispering to each other and Suna while you're busy becoming undefeated.

"Oh!" Atsumu startles, winking at his twin. Osamu smiles and looks down at his bare wrist.

"Would you look at the time, we've gotta head home."

You frown and cross your arms, "we got here an hour ago guys, I knew you were sore losers, but isn't this a bit much."

Suna chuckles while Sumu gasps. "We aren't leaving because of your unfair win," You roll your eyes "we're leaving because we have.."

"Have what?" Suna asks, raising an eyebrow at the twins.

"We've gotta, watch our fish." Osamu supplies, Sumu nods his head in agreement.

"Yep! It's sad but duty calls! Suna will, keep you company while we're gone." Atsumu says hurriedly with a suggestive tone you don't catch, not giving Suna time to call bullshit (they don't have a fish) which earns them a glare from the middle blocker in question.

"Aw okay, bye guys Call us when you get home?"

"Will do," Osamu calls, while the two make their way out of the arcade.

You turn to Suna, "ready to get your ass kicked?" He grins "Yeah, right."

.

.

.

Over the past few hours Suna has only chosen two-player games to play with you, won you three prizes, and made a joke about sharing a milkshake to save money... he must be getting into the valentines day spirit!

"don't think I haven't noticed your attitude this evening Rin." You smirk,

Suna's heart falls into his left foot. You're heading back to your place but stopped under a streetlamp a block away. His eyes are blown wide as he sputters for a response. You've never noticed all this before, despite the insane amount of trinkets hes gotten you till now and how coordinated you've become at working together in games. But you don't wait before continuing.

"The jokes, and games, the gifts," You smile squishing the plushies to your chest. "And all so close to valentines day... Go on, tell me who's the lucky person that's got you in the romantic mood?"

"What?" Suna blinks, going through a rollercoaster of emotions in his head.

"Don't act surprised! Someone has gotten a hold of your heart Rin! don't worry I can help you out if I know them. You'll have a valentines day date in no time with my expertise."

"I- I uhm, you-" Suna smiles then begins to laugh. You join him, proud of yourself for figuring it all out.

"You're adorable, you know that?" Suna asks, starting to walk, you follow him, obviously confused which only makes him smile more. He boops your nose and continues without saying anything.

"Wait what's that supposed to mean? am I helping you or what?" You pout.

"Don't worry about it, it's late, and we have a test tomorrow."

"Don't change the sub-"

"Looks like you're home, see you cutie." Suna laughs again jogging away before you can see his bright red face. He'll have to get the twins back for this somehow.

Ta-da! hope you enjoyed reblogs and follows appreciated! -button🌺

[vanfleeter]

Out of Body // JTK

Paring(s): Jake x reader x Josh x Sam x Danny Warnings: angst, slight swearing, depictions of a car accident, mentions of death and pregnancy, out of body experience, (let me know if I missed anything). Author's note: I've been rewatching One Tree Hill for the millionth time and a storyline inspired me to write this. Spoiler alert (even though this show has been out for a long time, lol): Quinn and Clay have out of body experiences when recovering from being shot. I got inspired by the out of body to write one for Jake, so here you go.

Music pumps through the speakers into the sound room. Jake, Josh, Sam, and Danny all sit around the room listening to it and giving their opinions on what should be changed or who needs to work on what. The album is scheduled to come out in six months and they’re so close to finishing.

Exhaustion.

Stress.

Arguments.

Jake is getting tired of it. He’s tired of working what feels like endless hours in the studio. He misses sleeping in his bed for more than four hours. He misses you. He misses waking up to you in the morning with a mug full of freshly brewed coffee in your hand as you wait for him to wake up. He misses cooking dinner with you in the evenings and eating it together on top of the kitchen counter with a bottle of wine shared between the two of you.

Deciding to call it for the night, Jake stands up from the couch. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m going home and getting sleep.”

Josh looks up at him. “But we have to-”

Jake shakes his head. “No.. I’ve been here in this damn studio for way too long these past few weeks and I’m over it. I want to go home and be with my girlfriend. We still have six months until this album releases and another two before tour starts and we’re near finished but I’m exhausted and I swear if I stay here another minute I’m going to go insane.” He reaches for his keys and his wallet on the coffee table. “I’ll be back on Monday but I’m taking the weekend.”

Leaving the sound room he heads out to his car and climbs inside. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. It rings a couple times before you pick up.

“Hi baby.” He hears that smile in your voice. “How’s work going?”

He sighs. “Draining.. But I’m coming home. I’m done for the weekend.” He shoves the key into the ignition and turns it. “I will be home in thirty minutes. Please have some drinks ready when I get there, I beg.”

You giggle. “Rum or whiskey?”

“Both.” He says chuckling.

“Both it is.” You say retrieving the two bottles off of the drink cart. “I will see you soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Pulling out of the parking space he heads out onto the road to make his way home. Stopping at an intersection, he looks over to his left and spots a flower shop on the corner. A smile tugs on his lips. Looking behind him he sees no other cars parked behind him. Slowly backing up, he turns his car into the turn lane and waits for the light to turn green.

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel he chews the inside of his cheek. “Come on, come on..” He sighs.

The light finally turns green and he presses his foot to the gas. Pulling out into the intersection he starts to turn left when headlights fill his peripheral view. He tries to get out of the way before the car slams into him.

Though he isn’t that lucky.

The vehicle slams into the side of his car, sending it tumbling over several times before coming to a stop in the middle of the road. In the midst of the ringing in his ears and numb feeling in his body, he hears his cell phone vibrating on the floor of the car before he slowly drifts into the darkness.

—

You pace back and forth by the front door, your phone clutched in one hand while the other is resting on your cheek. Worry fills your body.

Sure Jake has a tendency to be late but that’s nothing unusual. What’s unusual is for him not to call when he’s going to be late. He normally calls if he decides to stop off somewhere real quick. At this hour he would most likely stop to pick up food.

Ten more minutes slip by and still no Jake.

Headlights flash through the window as a car pulls into the driveway. You throw open the front door only to find Josh running up the sidewalk. His face is pale and his eyes red.

“Josh?”

“You need to come with me.” He says grabbing your hand and pulling you out to the car.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll explain on the way.” Josh says as he ushers her into the passenger seat and roughly closes the door.

“Josh, what’s going on?”

Josh takes in a deep breath, his hands tightening around the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. “It’s Jake.. He was in an accident.”

It feels as if your stomach drops to your feet. “Wh-What?”

“It’s bad, (Y/N). Really bad…”

Pulling up the hospital, the two of you head inside where you’re joined by Sam and Danny in the lobby.

“Where is he?” You ask.

“They took him back already.” Danny says. “They won’t tell us anything.”

“Which is stupid because I’m his brother.” Sam snaps as he glares at the tech behind the counter.

Josh lays a calming hand on his younger brother’s shoulder before approaching the counter. “Is there really nothing you can give us?” He says. “I’m his twin brother. We’re blood, practically the same person.”

The tech shakes her head. “Like I told your friends, I can’t release his information.”

Josh sighs. “We’re his family!” He shouts as he slams the palm of his hand on the counter. “My brother is back there somewhere dying! I need to know where he is dammit!”

“I’m sorry, without the proper authorization I cannot tell you. So I am going to need you to calm down and take a step back before I call security.”

Josh inhales and takes a step back. “Whose authorization do we need in order to get information? And better not be him because I swear-”

“His wife.” The tech says. “Only she can authorize it.”

Josh’s shoulders drop. His eyebrows crease. “Wife?”

The tech nods her head. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Only she can release it.”

All three boys turn towards you. “Did we miss something?” Danny says.

You look back at them with the same confused expression on your face. Josh grabs your hand and pushes you up to the counter.

“This is his…wife.” He shakes his head. “Just give her the information.”

The tech looks at you and you give her a faint smile. The tech huffs. “I need to see your ID please.” She says, holding out her hand.

You dig through your purse and retrieve your wallet. Pulling your ID, you hand it over to her and she looks at it. She glances back up at you and then back down at the ID. She sighs and hands the plastic card back to you.

“Jacob Kiszka is currently in surgery right now. I will notify the surgical team of your arrival and someone will be out soon to update you.”

Sam throws his hands in the air and hangs his head back. “Great.. Just great..” He mutters before walking away with Danny quickly trailing behind him.

You smile politely at the tech before giving her your thanks and dragging Josh away from the counter.

“So we just sit here and wait?” He says.

“Appears so..” You say. “Have you called your parents yet?”

Josh shakes his head as he sinks back into the chair. “No, I haven’t had the time. As soon as I got the call from the police, I immediately went to get you.”

You nod your head and stand up from your chair. “I’ll go call. You stay here and wait for any updates.”

Josh nods his head. “I’ll come find you if I do.”

—

Waking up again Jake finds himself in his bedroom sitting on the bed with his guitar in his lap. Looking up from it, he looks around the room to find it empty. You were nowhere to be found.

Putting his guitar off to the side he stands up from the bed and leaves the room; but when he does he finds himself in the hospital lobby. People milling around, all going about in different directions. Looking through the sea of people he spots his twin sitting in one of the chairs against the wall. He rushes over and sits down in the empty chair beside him.

“Josh..”

Josh continues to stare blankly ahead in front of him as he clenches his jaw.

“Josh, look at me… Josh?”

Josh turns his head towards Jake. “Are they coming?” He asks looking past Jake.

Jake follows his gaze to see you coming towards them both. You nod your head. “Your mom is a wreck… But uh, your dad–he’s calling the airlines now to find a flight down here from Detroit. They won’t be here until tomorrow..”

“And Ronnie?”

You shake your head. “I left her a voicemail but your dad said he’d call her too.”

Jake stands up from the chair. “(Y/N), can you hear me?”

“Sam and Danny haven’t come back?” You say. Josh shakes his head. “Okay uh we should go find them–maybe go grab some food while we wait.”

Josh nods his head and stands up from his chair. “Come on..”

“Guys, wait!” Jake calls after them. But to no avail, they don’t hear him. He tries to follow after them but as soon as he steps through the doors he finds himself looking down at himself from a overlook. His body lies there on the table as surgeons crowd over him to repair the damages that he sustained from the accident.

A series of beeps keeping track of his heart rate begin to erratic. “He’s crashing!”

“BP’s dropping!”

“We’re losing him!”

Jake pounds his fists on the glass panel. “No!” He shouts. “Don’t give up! Come on!” –

Sam paces back and forth in the courtyard with one hand dug into his hair and the other one resting on his hip. Danny sits on the bench leaning on his knees as he picks at his nails. “How am I supposed to just sit here and wait?”

“I don’t know..”

“I mean.. I-I have to do something.”

“Like what?” Danny questions. “You’re not a surgeon, you have no idea what the first thing is to do.”

Sam spins around to face Danny. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Well..”

“He’s my brother.. It’s human instinct to want to do something.”

“Then go to the chapel and say a prayer…”

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Please.. Who the hell would I pray to that remotely cares that my brother is dying?!”

“Sam..”

Jake steps up to his brother. “Sam.. Sam, please hear me.” He pleads. “Sam, I need your help. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Sam continues his pacing back and forth. “If he dies…”

“He won’t die..” Danny says. “Stop talking like that.”

Jake runs over to Danny and sits beside him on the bench. “Danny, please. Help me!”

“Hey there you are.” Josh says as you and him step out into the courtyard. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Are there any updates?” Danny says as he stands from the bench. Josh shakes his head.

“We called Karen and Kelly, and told them what happened.” You say as you adjust your jacket on your shoulders. “They’ll be here tomorrow.. Still can’t get a hold of Ronnie though.”

“Are either of you hungry?” Josh asks. “We were gonna head to the cafeteria to get some food.”

“How can you eat right now?” Sam says.

Josh shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not really sure what else I’m supposed to do…”

“You two go ahead,” Danny says. “We’ll meet up with you guys soon.”

Jake follows quickly behind you and Josh. “(Y/N), baby please. Please hear me. O-Or see me. Please, I’m right here.”

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear as you sniffle. Josh hears you and stops in front of you.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m so scared, Josh.. What if–What if he doesn’t-”

Josh shakes his head as he places his hands on your shoulders. “No, don’t think like that. Jake will be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?”

A smile cracks on Josh’s face. “He’s my brother. My other half. Trust me when I say he’ll be fine.” He pulls you into his arms. “Besides, he’d be an idiot to leave you like this.”

You stifle a giggle as you pull away from him. “Shut up..”

Josh chuckles. “Come on, Mrs. Kiszka, let’s go eat something horrible from the cafeteria.”

“Geez.. Stop.”

Josh grins. “You have to admit, it does sound good. Mrs. Kiszka. I’m telling you what, if he doesn’t marry after this, he really is an idiot.” You roll your eyes, making him laugh. “Though you two already act like a married couple.. What would be the difference? A silly little diamond ring on your finger?”

You smile. “Maybe I want a ring.” –

Jake stands over his bed watching as his own chest rises and falls. He leans against the window sill and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants. “So this is what it’s come to..” He says. “Tube down my throat, IVs stuck inside of me everywhere… Man, I look horrible…”

The door to his room opens and Karen steps inside. “Oh my baby..” She whimpers as she walks over to the bed.

Jake pushes off of the window sill and walks over to the bed. “Mama..”

“What happened to you Jacob?”

“I wish I knew myself..” He kneels down beside the bed and looks up at his mother who stands on the opposite side. His heart breaks as he watches her eyes fill with tears. “But I’m right here, Mom. I know you can’t see me but I’m here.” He tries to reach for her hand that rests on his chest but it only flows through her; as if he were running his hands through a cloud.

The door opens again and you walk in. You greet her with a sympathetic smile.

“What happened?” Karen asks.

“Car accident.” You say. “He was on his way home from the studio when he was hit.. Car is totaled..”

“Did he run a red light?”

You shake your head. “No.. He had a green light. Someone else ran the red light and hit his car.”

Karen takes a deep breath. “How are you?” She asks. “Are you doing okay?”

You nod your head. “I’m as good as one can be.” You say.

Karen smiles before wrapping her arms around you. “I have faith that he will pull through.” She says before pulling away. “Have you eaten yet today?” She asks. “Or even slept at all?”

“Josh forced me to go home last night to sleep.”

Karen laughs. “Good. You should sleep in your own bed and not the uncomfortable cot they offer you.” You giggle. “Come on, let’s go get some breakfast.”

Getting up from his knees, Jake follows closely behind them. As they round a corner they greet Kelly in front of the cafeteria.

“Dad..” Jake breathes. He walks over to Kelly. He watches his father plaster a smile on his face as he pretends that everything is going to be okay.

But Jake doesn’t believe it will be. He watched himself nearly die. For the five minutes that he was gone, not breathing, his body felt light. Free.

“Have you seen Josh?” Kelly asks.

Karen nods her head. “But it’s best if we leave him be.. He took it rough when we were told of the complications..”

Jake watches you now. The way you look away, your jaw clenching as you fight to keep yourself composed. Jake steps over you. He tries to wipe his hand across your cheek, to comfort you. But it only paces through you just as it had before. His heart breaks a little knowing he can’t comfort you. He hates how he has to stand by and watch as the people he loves grieve for him.

“Baby, I’m here.” He says, his voice cracking as he speaks each word.

You sniffle and wipe your face free of the tear that escaped down your cheek. You turn back to face his parents. “I’m gonna go find some coffee..” You say before slipping into the cafeteria. Jake looks back at his parents before slipping into the cafeteria too. But instead he’s sent somewhere else as he steps through the door.

“Oh what the hell..” He grumbles.

He looks around him. He’s at the beach. Looking down at his body he finds that he’s dressed in a white linen button down shirt and matching white linen pants and he’s barefoot. The complete opposite of what he was wearing the night of the accident.

“Hello?” He calls out. “Hellooo? If someone of a high power is up there,” He says, tilting his head to look up at the sky. “Can you please tell me what the hell is going on? I want to go back, please.” He throws his arms out in the air beside him. “And if this some kind of test, it’s pretty fucked up because I feel this is where I’m supposed to be when I die and I’m not ready yet.”

He hears someone chuckling. “Oh be quiet, Jacob.”

He spins around, his hands dropping to his sides. He sees an older gentleman standing a few feet away and dressed similar to him. His eyebrows furrow.

“Who are you?”

The man smiles. “Let’s just say I’m a friend.”

Jake’s eyebrows raise. “A friend.. Okay?”

“Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

“If this leads up to you telling me that I’m dead, just say it now. Spare me the trouble of a sentimental walk down the beach.”

The man chuckles again. “Jacob, just walk with me.” He says before turning around and heading down the shore.

Jacob huffs but reluctantly follows after the man. “So who are you really? A spiritual form of Jesus?” He asks when he catches up to the man.

The man scoffs. “I wish. Wouldn’t that be something? No.. Like I said, I’m a friend.”

“Do I know you then, said friend?”

“You were pretty young when I passed, you and your siblings all were. I was an old friend of your parents. I came around a lot to the lake where we would all play music.” He explains. “I was the one with the fancy blue guitar that you seemed to be mesmerized by.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “I remember you.” He says. “I can’t remember your name but I remember you..and the guitar.”

The man smiles. “My name is Robert but everyone called me-”

“Uncle Robbie.” Jake interrupted.

Robert smiles. “You and Josh always called me that despite me not actually being your uncle.”

Jake smiles. “So why are you here? With me, I mean..”

“I saw what was going on.” He says. “I saw the accident, I even saw you for a brief moment when your soul left your body the first time.”

“The first time? But..”

“It occured right after the accident. You were technically dead for a couple minutes before medics arrived.” Robert says. “A bystander who saw the whole thing happen, he ran out to you, brought you back.”

“So I died, twice..”

Robert nods his head. “But the good news is, it won’t happen again.” He says. “How have you been feeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you feel like? Do you feel like you just keel over and fall asleep at any given moment because you’re so tired? Or do you feel like you could run forever and never be exhausted?”

“I definitely feel like taking a nap.”

Robert smiles. “Then you won’t die.” He says. “You’re feeling tired and probably exhausted because your body is healing.”

“Already? That quick? It’s only been a couple days.”

Robert shakes his head. “Time is different here.” He says. “It feels like it’s only been a couple days here but truthfully it’s been almost a week back there.”

“But the news that Josh got.. That wasn’t from when I woke up?”

Robert shakes his head. “One of your kidneys is failing.”

“But you said my body is healing.”

“It is.”

“So if my body is healing, why am I in kidney failure?”

“It all happens so quickly, Jacob. I don’t know the specifics, I just know what’s happening.”

“Isn’t Josh a match? Can’t he donate?”

“He wanted to.” Robert says. “And he could have, however, another patient passed away and he was an organ donor and since you’re classified as an emergent case, you get his kidney.”

“So Josh-”

“Josh is fine. He was taking the news of the kidney failure a little more rougher than the others. He didn’t want to lose his best friend. But I think when you wake up, those tears you see won’t be sad ones but happy ones.”

“So I’m not dying?”

Robert shakes his head. “Nope. You’re gonna be just fine.” He stops walking and turns to face Jake. “You see that house over there?” He says pointing off into the distance.

“That’s mine and (Y/N)’s.”

“Go home, Jacob.”

“Thank you.” As Jake starts to head off, Robert calls after him. He turns back around to look at him.

“Don’t drown yourself in your work either. You’re missing out on some pretty big milestones, Jacob.”

“Milestones?”

“You’re gonna have a little boy of your own, Jacob. Focus on that.”

That’s when it all hit. Turning back around he takes off down the shore until he reaches the house. Pushing the door open, he steps inside. A bright white light fills his vision and he opens his eyes again to find that he’s in his own body again and lying in the hospital bed.

“Jake..” He hears you sigh. He feels your hand on his cheek and he turns his eyes to look at you. You stifle a sob as you cover your mouth. “You’re finally awake.”

He reaches up to hold your hand in his. He sighs in relief when he feels your solid and warm hand.

“I’m sorry..” He says.

“Sorry for what?” You ask.

“I’m sorry for missing so much.” He says. “I’ve been working so much on the album that I never realized that you’re pregnant.” You cast your eyes down to the bed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there and that I didn’t notice. How the hell I never noticed…” He sighs. “I’m sorry.. I promise from now on, I’ll be there for you and our son.”

You shoot your eyes back up to Jake. “You know?” Jake smiles. “How did you know?”

“Let’s just say I had a gut feeling.”

You lean over and kiss him. “I’m so glad you’re awake.” You say. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Jake chuckles. “I promise to do my best. Now.. I am hungry.”

You giggle. “You just woke up.”

“Yeah and I haven’t eaten in a week. What’s your point?”

You laugh and stand up from your chair. “I’ll go find your doctor and figure out what you can have. I’ll be right back.”

Laying his head back down in the pillows, Jake stares at the ceiling. He makes a mental note in his head to order flowers for you when he gets released from the hospital and to start buying baby clothes.

O fim.

[corporatefrog]

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 18; coffee with chaos

✧.* featuring yn hanging out with Butters and having an important conversation : ̗̀➛ notes - here's the end of the "yn finds out" arc! we're ending it where it began with Butters because he deserves the world lmao tags - college au, superhero au, smau

series masterlist previous | next

Sitting at the table was unbearably awkward.

Butters swirled his hot chocolate in its cup, hand jolting slightly when a drop flew from the top and landed on the table. He muttered a quiet apology before grabbing a napkin and cleaning the spill. Then he went back to sitting across the table from me, looking everywhere but at me. 

We both knew what this was about. When I texted Butters, asking to meet at Tweek Bros coffee, it had been after a week long silence in our communication. Our last conversation being the infamous Frozen on Ice incident. I'm not sure how much he's heard from the others, but if Butters didn't notice my tense demeanor, he would've already jumped into a story about his latest family in the Sims.

The questions wasn't whether or not something was wrong, it's who would say it first.

No way. I'm not playing around with this "ooo who's going to say it" bullshit.

I broke the silence.

“I know you’re Professor Chaos.” I pushed the words out before they could retreat into my throat. My thumb traced the lid of my drink as I waited for his response, running along the plastic grooves to focus my nerves on something other than the conversation at hand.

Whatever came next would change our friendship forever. I just had to be okay with that. To me, this truth was more important than a fake friendship where we both walk on eggshells around each other, both too scared to address the ever present elephant in the room. If a truth meant losing Butters, I wouldn't want to know the outcome of a lie-

“Oh thank goodness!” 

From across the table, I heard a shaky laugh.

I looked up to see Butters slouched in his seat, shoulders lowered from their previous tense position and hands no longer clutching his cup. A smile pulled at his lips, pinching his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes with an expression of pure relief. 

I raised an eyebrow, not ready to let down my tense defense just yet, “You’re not shocked or surprised at all?”

Butters laughed at my question, the joyful sound kicking my own anxieties out of my system. Who would laugh that carelessly if they were worried? 

“Well of course I’m surprised!” He started, slamming his hands on the table with the grin still on his face, “Someone figured out my secret identity! I never in a million years thought that would happen!” 

Butters paused, toning down the explosive joy to a small smile and bouncing leg as his eyes jumped around the room, “But out of anyone who could’ve found out," His gaze returned to mine, "I’m glad it’s you. Now I don’t have to lie to you anymore!” 

A smile of my own crept onto my face, slowly growing until it matched Butter's grin. Weight tumbled from my shoulders as I straightened in my seat, worry no longer pushing me down. Everything's okay.

We're okay.

"Yeah about the lies, you really need to work on your alibis. That Frozen on Ice stunt was what clued me in.” I said, pointing a joking finger at him.

Butter's slapped his hand across the table, “Darn it. I knew I should’ve said we were seeing the Lion King.”

We shared a laugh about Butters’ bad lie, about the ridiculousness of the whole situation, about the fact that we were sitting dead silence, too scared to speak to one another five minutes ago. The world took on a brighter light as our laughed died down, leaving us both with smiles on our faces. 

“Yeah…” I said, not sure what I wanted to say when I started, just wanting to say something. “I’m just glad this is all over though. I was driving myself insane thinking I was some terrible person for thinking you were a good guy.”

“Oh, you mean because of those meanies on twitter spouting off all that bullcrap about dick riding?” Butters asked. 

Why is this the first time I’m hearing him say dick riding. I didn’t even know he knew what that was.

He’s a 20 year old who knows Eric Cartman. He knows what dick riding is. 

I jumped back onto the conversation, my surprise keeping me from responding, “Oh-uh- yeah. I don’t usually get swept up in online negativity, I think it just hit a bit harder because it was about me talking to you. And anyone who doesn’t see that you’re the coolest person ever is obviously the stupid one.” 

“You think I'm cool?” Butters’ said softly, eyes searching my expression for a hidden double meaning or snide remark to follow. 

We tell him we know his secret identity and THIS is what surprises him?

I reached across the table and grabbed his hands, “Butters you’re a SUPER VILLAIN. That automatically makes you the coolest person ever. I told you I think Chaos is absolutely an icon and I stand by that statement.” 

It was as though the rest of the cafe disappeared as sparkles shone in Butters eyes. 

“Well, I think you’re the coolest person ever too.” He said, hands returning the grip on mine. 

“Well duh!” I exclaimed, releasing his hands and I leaned back in my chair in the coolest sitting pose I could muster, “When you’re the two coolest kids in south park, you’ve got a lot of work to do to keep your rep clean.”

Butters nodded and copied my pose, staring off into the distance over the rim of his coffee cup as he took a totally cool sip of his hot chocolate.

“Yeah. Super cool.” He said, eyes observing the boring people who walked by our table of coolness with a steely gaze. I can see how he managed to keep up the chaos persona so easily. Butters really was the master of keeping a bit going. 

“You don’t need to worry about those jerks online anymore.” Butters began, waiting for our eyes to meet before continuing, “General Disarray found their valorant profiles and set up a bot to follow them into any game they start and target them the whole match. Their online lives are ruined.” He finished with a grin and I could see the shadow of Professor Chaos' electric gaze through his eyes.

Maybe they’re not so different after all. 

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @triphovia  @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123@n0tangeliccc@sophtophie@inkedintothepaper 

[bloodlessbelmounte]

As Cold As Death (Part 2)

Part 1|2|3|

Summary:

You've had always lived what felt like a half-life, died more times than you could count. Astarion was a vampire spawn who had been "living" in the shadow of his master. But things change for the both of you when you're abducted by Mindflayers and implanted with tadpoles. With a Cleric of Shar; a Githyanki Warrior; an Escaped Solider for Zariel; the Blade of Frontiers; a Former Chosen of Mystra; the Corpse of a Scribe and the Pale Elf, you venture forth towards Baldur's Gate in the hopes of finding a cure. Where the shadow over Astarion is darkest and the Dead Three 's chosen lurk along the way.

Genre: Romance, Slowburn

Pairing: Astarion/Necromancer GN!Reader (Tav)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, blood drinking, manipulation. More to be added as the fic goes on. Please let me know if there's any I missed.

Word Count: 3.2k

Note: This has been cross-posted to AO3 and can be seen as a prequel to 'Predators and Prey'. No beta, we die like bing bong.

The next morning you awoke to sunshine filtering through the canopy, casting speckles of light and shadow over your closed eyes. But you didn’t stir yet, not ready to let go of the previous night and start a new day. You thought back on your tumble on the forest floor with one vampiric elf. Your neck stung faintly as you recalled how you allowed him to feed from you, how it brought about his one true smile of the night. Your stomach sank. He looked so… distant during your encounter and everything seemed so rehearsed. Like he was going through the motions. Your brows furrowed as you finally opened your eyes and sat up.

Astarion stood with his back to you, soaking in the morning sun. You doubt he noticed you were awake, but you immediately noticed the horrid scarring on his back. You had felt him flinch under your fingers when you brushed upon it. You hadn’t realised how massive it was. Naturally, you were distracted. And though you knew little about the language, you were sure it was Infernal. You swallowed and tried to set aside your unease. You didn’t want to ruin the moment after the night you’d shared.

“Not staying for a cuddle? I knew you weren’t the type,” you joked.

Astarion startled slightly but caught himself, he didn’t turn to face you, “You sleep light. I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.” There was humour colouring his voice, “Especially with how delicate you are.”

You hesitated, “Did you… enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there. Was I bad?”

“No, no. Trust me - it wasn’t you.” He peered over his shoulder, a smile on his lips, “I was just holding back a little. I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were. I didn’t want to… go too far and have you dying on me again.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

He laughed, “Where would be the fun in that? Now, shall we get on? I want to get going before the others wake. Though I bet the noise you made last night would’ve kept them up late so hopefully they’ve decided to lay in.”

Your cheeks flushed and you shifted to lean back, “Um, how do I put this… Those scars, where’d you get them?”

His arms fell to his sides and he faced away from you yet again, “It’s a poem. A gift from Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed and carved that one over the course of a night.” He deflated and his voice shook with emotion, “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

You threw on his discarded shirt, wanting to cover yourself before approaching him. Your hand hovered just inches away from him, not sure if you wanted to trace the scars or lay a hand on him in comfort. Yet you knew he wouldn’t appreciate either touch. He finally turned to face you as your hand dropped.

“Why did he write it in Infernal?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, eyes widening, “Infernal? I…” He schooled his features back to a picture of indifference, “Who knows? The bastard was insane. Anyway, enough pillow talk. Let’s go before we get dragged into another mess.”

He picked up your clothes and handed them to you, then gestured to a rather large tree, “You can dress in privacy over there if you’d like, I must admit I find your need for modesty a little novel. I would like my shirt back as well, not like I have anything else to wear in our times of respite.” He gave you a playful smile which you returned with a bashful one.

——————————————————————————————————

You were not lucky when you returned to camp. The others were awake and gave you knowing looks as Astarion practically strutted out of the woods with you trailing behind. Karlach gave you a thumbs up and you shot her back your own with an awkward grimace. You quickly darted into your tent as soon as it was in sight, chucking off yesterday’s clothes in favour of your freshly dried robes. After pulling on your boots and gloves then donning your circlet, you allowed yourself a moment to breath and fight back your feelings of embarrassment. You were an adult - a night of passion was nothing to be ashamed of - or so you tried to convince yourself with little success. Gale called everyone to breakfast. You sighed and left the safety of your tent.

Astarion handed you a plate full of bacon, eggs, sausage and other accompaniments. Then mumbled a spell you knew well by now as he laid his hands on you. You felt the slight wooziness you had grown used to dissipate.

“Thank you, you don’t have to do this but I appreciate it all the same.”

He eyed you for a second before a shit-eating grin split his lips, “What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t provide adequate aftercare?”

You spluttered over your words, struggling to form a reply, “L-l-lover?! Wha-”

Astarion giggled and gave you a light push. Oh. He was playing with you.

“Go on now, eat up. No doubt we have a long night of celebrating ahead of us when we reach the grove.”

Dazed, you made your way over to a log and sat next to Wyll, who luckily decided to give you grace and did not ask about your late night activity. Instead, he passed you a healing potion.

“I’m not sure if you’re mad or brave for letting a vampire feed on you at a regular basis.”

You shrugged, “I keep him fed and happy and he, apparently, keeps me fed and healthy. As long as he has the amulet of Silvanus to restore me after his… meals, there’s really no harm to it.”

“But surely you need to reserve your strength with your condition. I can’t imagine his feedings don’t have an impact on that.”

You pushed your food around your plate, “That remains to be seen. So far I’ve been just fine, other than Halsin pushing me to breaking point.”

Wyll sighed then frowned, “I suppose what I’m trying to say is, must you keep offering yourself to him? He now pounces on an unsuspecting enemy at least once per battle to drain them dry. Is he not satisfied? Or is he simply a glutton?”

“I’m surprised you don’t seem to know, o’ Blade of Frontiers, famed monster hunter of the Sword Coast. Vampires are eternally hungry. No amount of blood will ever truly satiate them, but they can be temporarily relieved if fed often enough. My blood is a small price to pay for him to be clear headed during our quest and for him not to be eyeing up your neck.”

The colour of Wyll’s cheeks deepened as he flushed. Astarion and Shadowheart’s semi-flirtatious chat a few days prior about who he would like a taste of wasn’t exactly quiet or private. At the time you hadn’t understood your feelings of possessiveness and jealousy, but now that you had spent the night together, you were piecing together the crush that had been developing without you knowing.

Wyll cleared his throat and gave you a playful smile, “I must thank you for your most noble sacrifice then, what would be of my virtue now if not for you.”

You laughed heartily and gave him a light shoulder shove. It was nice, being able to joke about with people. Not being looked down on or outcasted because of your school. Maybe this was something Wyll too knew intimately as a Warlock and more so with his punishment from Mizora. Either way, you could get used to this.

——————————————————————————————————

Before setting off to the Grove, you split the group to cover as much ground as you could. You decided to sweep through Ethel’s once more with Astarion, Gale and Karlach in tow in case you missed anything useful. The others went to the blighted village.

At Ethel’s there was an eclectic collection of bizarre potions that you can’t believe you missed, including one that allowed you to drink blood. You grinned deviously when you pocketed that one. Oh that would be a fun trick to play on a certain roguish vampire. A taste of his own medicine when the opportunity presented itself.

You also found a wand named ‘Bitter Divorce’ among the hag’s collection. Turned out that was to be used on Mayrina’s deceased husband, which Mayrina knelt by the coffin of. You had assumed she fled the area after the hag was dealt with. But no, this girl had not a single ounce of common sense, something that became clear to you when she revealed the nature of her deal with the hag. She was trying to trade her unborn child for a dead man. And so you used the wand on Colin - the deceased - to show her exactly what their child was being traded for. A shambling, rotting corpse, mindless with nothing left of who he once was. Mayrina had been disgusted and claimed it could be fixed - he could be fixed. You took pity on her and took possession of Colin. You were a necromancer after all; death and the creatures made of it were your domain. At least as your minion the poor thing would have purpose even if Gale and Karlach didn’t approve of your decision. Astarion found the whole debacle to be amusing and praised you for your selfishness.

You and your companions only made it a few paces further into the swamp when you caught wind of a horrible scent. Utterly foul. A scent which appeared to be coming from a rather tan man. A member of the Gur people, you had benefited from their expertise before. You didn’t notice Astarion’s unease as you approached.

“Ah, stranger. My name is Gandrel. Please, forgive the aroma. Powdered iron-vine. An old hunter’s trick - most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me,” the hunter chuckled.

Astarion stepped forward, “You’re a monster hunter? I’m surprised - I thought all Gur were vagrant cut-throats,” his voice biting and full of mockery.

Your nose scrunched in distaste, “I know you can be a real jackass at time, Hells, we didn’t have the best introduction, but racism? I’m shocked.”

Astarion glared at you, hand on hip.

Gandrel raised his hands, as if to diffuse the situation before it could escalate further, “You friend has just heard rumours of my people. That we steal chickens, curse crops, seduce your daughters… I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas I am a simple wanderer. A simple wanderer and monster-hunter. But I’m no witchdoctor or cut-throat.”

You gave a gentle smile, “My mother took me to a caravan of your people when I was but a child. She was seeking aid over an illness I’ve had since birth. Feared it was a curse because though you don’t deal in curses, you’re adept at undoing them. Your people reassured us that no such curse existed with my kind of symptoms and directed us to a cleric. So, I owe your people a debt of gratitude - what monster are you hunting? I may be able to lend some aid.”

The thought of killing something seemed to have perked up Astarion as he grinned, “Something terrifying, no doubt? Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?”

There was something endearing about how animated he became when he talked, using his whole body to convey his meaning.

Gandrel waved off the guesses, “Nothing so dramatic. I’m hunting for a vampire spawn. His name is Astarion, but I fear he’s gone to ground. I had hoped the hag of these lands could help me flush him out, though it appears she has been slain. However, one such as yourself would be equally useful in bringing him to heel while he sleeps soulless.”

Astarion’s ears drooped as his eyes widened in visible panic, looking to you. Your stomach dropped, there was little chance you were getting out of this without blood being spilt, but you would damned well try. You didn’t want to take an innocent life, you weren’t like the other necromancers. If you played your cards right, this could be resolved peacefully and Astarion would still be safe.

“And… when you find this ‘Astarion’? You’ll kill him?”

“Not this time. My orders are to capture him.”

“Oh?” Astarion piped up again, “And bring him where exactly?”

“Baldur’s Gate. My people wait for me there.”

Your curiosity piqued, someone wanted Astarion and you would try to dig up as much information as you could from Gandrel. You crossed your arms and faked confidence.

“Only a spawn? Pity. I would’ve preferred the challenge of a real vampire.”

Astarion side-eyed you, smirk ever present, “I don’t know. I’m sure a spawn could still rip out your throat if he felt like it.” There was a slight growl as he spoke, a thinly veiled threat - to you or the Gur, you didn’t know.

“He is right, unfortunately. They are only weak when compared to their masters. During the day, we have the advantage. But at night, when they hunt? You will not find a more deadly quarry.”

You sighed, “Unfortunately, I cannot help you. I am not powerful enough to control a vampire, spawn or otherwise. Thank you for the warning. We’ll be careful.”

“May your road be kind,” Gandrel nodded his farewell, his voice gentle and kind. Genuinely wishing you no ill will.

Astarion turned to you, his irritation returning at full force, “Wait - that’s it? We’re just walking away? Don’t you think we should do something about the… vampire issue?”

“I said we’ll be careful. Now let’s go.”

“Fine. But if this comes back to bite us, it’s on your head.”

“Go in peace, my friends. I pray our paths cross again.”

“They better bloody not,” Astarion muttered.

The elf really needed to learn subtlety. It was a miracle the Gur hadn’t caught on to his double entendres. As you walked away, you were somewhat afraid that he would connect the dots and Gandrel would start a battle with your, quite frankly, idiotic vampire.

——————————————————————————————————

After thoroughly searching the rest of the bog, you went back to camp. You immediately dragged Astarion off to his tent for a little chat about the encounter.

“So, there are monster hunters after you,” you stated bluntly.

“It would appear so. Hopefully he bumps into some gnolls while stumbling around at night and that’s the last we hear from him,” he shrugged.

“But why was he hunting you? What did you do?” You hissed.

“I didn’t do anything!…” He hesitated, considering his words, “I was kidnapped - just like you. It seems Cazador wants me back. It was him, I’m sure. Only he would know to send the Gur after me,” He frowned, “It was a group of Gur who attacked me that night in Baldur’s Gate. Unhappy with some ruling I had passed in court. I would’ve died that night had Cazador not appeared and saved me.”

“That doesn’t make sense! They’re monster hunters, why would they serve Cazador? He’s a vampire.”

He put his hand on his hip, his frustration about this conversation clearly evident. “They may have no idea who they’re working for. Cazador likely paid someone to pay someone to call in a favour. He doesn’t do simple plans. Not if he has a complex one that pits a dozen enemies against each other.” He shook his head, “No this hunter was a message. Cazador’s letting me know that even out here, he can get to me. He wants me back.”

You pinched between your brows, “But why capture you? Why not simply kill you and be done with it?”

“Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways. Or maybe he thinks death is too good for me.”

“Sounds like he won’t let you go easily. Should I be concerned?”

Astarion barked a laugh, “Concerned? Do you know the power a vampire lord possesses?”

“Yes, actually. I happen to be well aware-”

“No you don’t! There’s a difference between one of your necromancy textbooks and seeing it with your own eyes! He can change shape; turn into mist; call wolves to do his bidding; shrug off blows like they’re nothing. He could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands, which would be easy with your condition quite frankly. And you’d be lucky if death was the worst thing that happened to you.”

“Alright, so what do you suggest?”

“First we have to - uh… I don’t know. If we kill his lackeys, he’ll just send more. We just have to keep vigilant. Keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunters on sight.”

“Yeah- no. I’m not killing innocent people when we can just lie to them. You’re walking in broad daylight, no one will suspect a thing if you don’t give yourself away. I can even help you cover the scar on your neck.”

“What scar?!” His hands flew up to his neck, fingers delicately mapping it until they traced over the indents and ridges of a bite mark. “By the Hells! Why has no one brought this up before?!”

“We all assumed you were aware. Your bite scarred me. Anyway, that’s besides the point. I worked in a mortuary before being abducted, I still have some adipocere and a basic reconstruction make-up set in my pack, it can fill in the divots and I can try to match it to your skin.”

That made Astarion giggle, “Trust the necromancer to work in a place full of dead bodies. Did you use it to practice raising a small army?”

You scrunched up your nose, affronted, “No! Of course not! I said I’m not one of those-”

“Yes, yes but you did just steal a widow’s husband.”

Your anger roared in your veins at his snide comment, but with effort you pushed it down enough that your voice remained even, “It was for her own good. A decomposing corpse isn’t exactly good for a pregnant mother to be around. And I showed her the folly of her decision. Do all magistrates feel like they have the life experience to remark on something outside their schooling? Or is it a trait unique to those whose tenure was short-lived?”

Oh that must have struck a nerve as he reflexively bared his fangs as he spoke, “And how many magistrates do you know to make such a sweeping statement?”

“Just you and one other who failed to become one. He entered the exam high on some sort of elicit substance he had partaken in beforehand. He was a fool that I had attended the same academy as in my childhood. And I was the bigger fool for dating him after that debacle… I had been swayed by his declaration of admiration for me but in the end I could not live up to the imagined version he expected me to be. It was stifling.”

He relaxed and raised a brow, “Oh I see, you have a type. Young corrupt magistrates. Now that is funny, my dear.”

You were about to respond but the others returned from the Blighted Village looking somewhat worse for ware. Gale called you over and kindly asked you help him in preparing a hearty lunch for your weary companions. You were thankful to be able to escape a conversation that was quite frankly all over the place tonally.

——————————————————————————————————

A/N: Sorry for the abrupt ending. This chapter was getting longer than planned and hadn't even reached other points I had planned out for it. Hopefully, chapter 3 won't take as long for me to get done.

[jayjaymorgan]

RexWalker Week - Day 1, Sith!au

Author’s Note : This fic is a part of a series me and @farkmagic came up with and are still working on. Please remember that English isn't my native language, so there might be some mistakes and stuff. I hope you all like it, have a great day/night!

Taglist : @rexwalker-week

TW : cursing, description of injuries

The bridge shook with yet another explosion, kicking up clouds of volcanic dust and smoke, that choked the sky and blinded them temporarily. Coughing and blinking the tears out of their eyes, the Bad Batch did their best not to breathe in the toxic fumes as they pressed on, cutting down the droids where they stood. Rex stopped to adjust his helmet, kicking the filters into overdrive, while doing his best to suppress his coughing as the ventilators whirred to life. “You okay?” Omega asked, voice strained, glancing at her older brother, her worry palatable through her visor. “...’m fine.” he nodded, before clearing his throat and glancing around at the hellish landscape of the planet Mustafar. “We need to keep going. Come on.” He gripped his blasters tightly and jogged after the rest of the team, with Omega following close behind him, her bow at the ready. The small crew of seven pressed on, pushing forward through the debris and smoke, with the distant sounds of volcanic eruptions following their every move. Wrecker grunted as he pushed the mangled remains of a Spider Dwarf Droid out of the way, tossing it aside with ease. He let out a cheer as the droid fell off the bridge and disappeared in the lava below, sinking like a stone in the water. “This is insane.” Crosshair muttered angrily, before flicking his toothpick after the unlucky robot. “Why are we even here? The intel isn’t worth all this hassle, is it now?” “It is.” Tech snapped back, visibly irritated. “Quit that, I can see you rolling your eyes under your bucket.” Crosshair huffed in annoyance, but didn’t argue further. As they rounded a corner, they were met with yet another wave of droids, swarming towards them like ants, with blasters at the ready. A dark, foreboding outpost loomed in the distance, overlooking the battlefield like a vulture sitting on a tree, waiting for its share of rotting meat. The sight sent a shiver down Rex’s spine. “I don’t like the look of that.” he muttered quietly, as he surveyed the sea of enemies that stood between them and the blast doors of the garrison. “Neither do I.” Echo agreed, furrowing his brows. Before any of them could come up with any plan of action, Wrecker charged at the droids with a blood-curdling war cry. He grabbed one by its leg and swung it like a club, sending several others tumbling over the edge of the narrow overpass. The giant made quick work of the droids, throwing his weight around like a bulldozer, leaving the battle field looking more like a salvage yard one would see on Ferrix. He cleared out a path to the outpost, laughing like a maniac while the terrified droids scrambled for cover and fell back to the garrison. Just as he turned to face his brothers and sister, with a proud smirk clearly visible beneath his helmet, the whole crew stopped in their tracks, as the reinforced metal doors were torn open from within, nearly flying off of its hinges. A wave of cold wind rushed out of the dark tunnel, a bone chilling contrast against the hot and suffocating atmosphere of Mustafar. The air around the Bad Batch became noticeably thicker, heavier, it felt like they were underwater. It was so sudden that it knocked the breath out of Rex’s lungs, leaving him dazed and confused. Before any of them could recover, Wrecker’s whole body tensed up and he reached up to his neck, sputtering, like he couldn’t breathe. His feet lifted off the ground, as he clawed at the invisible force that threatened to crush his windpipe, kicking and trashing wildly. “Wrecker!” Omega called out with fear as she broke into a run to help her brother, only to be knocked back by an unseen barrier. She tumbled to the ground, her energy bow slipping out of her grip. “What the...?”

The emergency lights started flickering violently, before exploding with a loud crackle and showering the bloody battlefield with sparks and broken glass. The remaining droids fell to the ground, one by one, some coughing up smoke as their hard drives melted and caught fire, other simply powering off. “...kriff?” the girl finished, as her eyes landed on her discarded weapon, fear gripping her heart. Her trusty bow, one that saved her life numerous times and has been at her side through thick and thin, was now flaring angrily, with its pinkish plasma eating through its limbs. She could feel her eyes tearing up, but she didn’t have the time to reminiscent over her fallen friend, as Crosshair’s rifle spat out a few stray bolts, one missing her by mere inches. Tech’s portable computer shut down without a warning, leaving him without his beloved gadget. A groan of surprise could be heard from Hunter, as his visor shortened out, leaving him momentarily blinded as he tried to rub away the sparks that danced in his eyes. Echo’s cybernetic legs gave out under his weight and if it wasn’t for Rex, he would’ve fallen to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

They looked at each other in fear and confusion, as their equipment continued to malfunction in strange and unexpected ways.

That’s when they heard something.

Footsteps. Slow and deliberate, echoing through the dark hallway, the sound distorting as it bounced off the steel walls. Faint whispers carried by the wind tickled their ears, the voices angry, hateful, hissing and spitting indistinguishably from one another. The metal screeched and groaned, like the whole building was about to fall over, the sound reverberating through their skulls.

And then, out of the darkness, stepped a man.

Tall, dressed in black, red and grey, with a black kama wrapped around his waist, its edges torn and damaged from past battles. His armor greatly detailed and complicated, light yet strong and durable, highlighting his body and posture, with numerous belts holding everything in place. Where the man’s face should be, a black steel mask greeted them, with red markings decorating it around the visor and down the cheeks, like bloody tears. It couldn’t be any more obvious that the person standing before them was a Sith Lord. Hunter reached for his knife, only for the Sith to flick his wrist and send Wrecker crashing into the sergeant, slamming the two against the metal railing of the bridge, teetering dangerously close to the molten lava below. Rex growled in anger and aimed his pistols, but the air grew thick with acrid scent of burning metal and the clone realized, with horror, that his twin blasters were melting in his hands. “H-how?” he stammered, dropping the now useless weapons to the ground. “Fall back!” Tech yelled, scrambling to his feet and helping Omega up. “Now!” He didn’t have to say it twice, as Wrecker jumped to his feet and grabbed Echo, throwing him over his shoulder like a rag doll. “Go, go, go!”

The whispers grew louder, like a choir of demons singing their praises to some unseen deity, as the Sith continued to saunter towards them, lightsaber in hand. “Fucking go!” Crosshair yelled, his cold and cool demeanor nowhere in sight as he pushed Hunter, prompting him to move. “What are you waiting for?!” The Bad Batch broke into a run, but they didn’t even make it past the bridge, as the Sith charged at them. Rex, who was closing their escape, yelped in surprise and dodged, the lightsaber’s blade nearly taking off his head. He stumbled back and found himself cut off from the rest, with the fallen Jedi blocking his path.

He gritted his teeth as the Sith went after him like a rabid dog, the red sword cutting through the air with a loud whooshing sound. He barely had the time to raise his arm and deflect it with his gauntlet, the impact so jarring that it sent a wave of pain through his forearm, all the way from his elbow to the tips of his fingers. With an angry yell, the Sith turned and hit the clone in the face with so much strength that it cracked the visor in Rex’s helmet, the glass shards cutting his face. The clone grunted in pain, stumbling back, as his opponent continued with his merciless attack, the lightsaber hissing at it once again made contact with the beskar armor. The clone tried to fight back, but it was like hitting a brick wall with a stick. The Sith moved with unnatural speed and strength, making it nearly impossible to keep up with the onslaught. The fallen Jedi’s hand shot out, the Force slamming into Rex and throwing him to the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs. He hit the metal of the bridge with a sickening crack, pain shooting through his body as his helmet slip off his head, sliding across the floor. Blood streamed down the right side of his face, mixing with the sweat and tears as he looked up to see the Sith standing over him, his saber raised, ready to strike. In a blind panic, Rex grabbed the last thing fixed to his belt - an old lightsaber. As the saber detached from his belt, Rex was greeted by a loud crackle and a burst of brilliant, blue light. He swung it recklessly, the blade connected with the lord’s face, cutting through the metal with a sickening screech. Pieces of flaming metal and tinted glass exploded in every direction, as the Sith stumbled away with an audible groan of pain, his hand pressed to the wound. Rex lifted himself up, not waiting for his opponent to regain his vision. Keeping his distance, he brandished the saber, trying to remember what his late lover taught him, all those years ago. His chest burned with pain, lungs screaming for air, eyes watering from the toxic fumes, yet, he did not have the time to get his bearings, as the Sith lord turned to face him.

The clone’s heart stopped.

Through the broken eyeshade of the man’s mask, he saw a glint of something... familiar. The cracked visor revealed just enough of the Sith’s face for Rex to recognize the person standing in front of him. It was as if he was looking at a ghost, a memory of his past that he thought was long buried.

“...Ani?” he choked out, lowering his weapon. The Sith seemed to falter slightly, his brow furrowing in surprise and confusion, only now taking the time to study his opponent’s face, a hint of recognition in his eyes. For just a split of a second, everything went quiet. The whispers died out, the winds slowed down, even the volcanic eruptions stopped mid explosion.

This couldn’t be true. Rex knew that it wasn’t possible.

Anakin was dead and has been for years. He died on Coruscant, at the hands of Sidious, nearly a decade ago.

The clone saw the destroyed Chancellor’s suite with his own eyes, the burn marks left by lightning and the shattered windows stained with blood. He was there, during the funeral and when the Council built a statue of the man, to honor Skywalker’s sacrifice.

The clone tried to convince himself that he was just seeing things. That he got a whiff of the fumes and was now hallucinating the man standing in front of him.

But the eyes staring back at him were the same as the ones that haunted his dreams, the same as the ones he saw when he closed his own. The person hidden behind the mask was the one he had loved and lost, the one he saw every time he was on Coruscant, in the Jedi Temple’s courtyard. He knew, deep down, that no hallucination could map out all the details of his lover’s face. The scar over his eye, the very one Rex would kiss as they woke up in bed. The curve of cheekbone, the same one Rex would trace over with his thumb during those quiet and short moments they had in between battles.

Both men were frozen in place and time, like the world around them ceased to exist, like they were the only two left in the entire universe. It was only them and the platform they were standing on. Rex could feel the heat of the lava below, the toxic air burning his lungs and eating through their membrane, but he didn’t move an inch. All he could do was look at the man he had loved, the man he thought he has lost forever.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to beg and plead for it not to be true, for it all to be a cruel nightmare, a trick of his imagination...

The fallen Jedi shook his head, as if to clear his mind from a haze, before looking up at Rex with anger, fury even. He lunged at the clone and their sabers connected with a loud crack, showering the two men with sparks. The plasma blades screeched and groaned against each other, as they fought for dominance, trying to gain extra ground. The men traded blows, their lightsabers creating a blur of blue and red. The ground shook beneath their feet as the seismic activities grew stronger, more violent.

The clone was able to push his enemy back before hitting him in the face, cracking the mask clean off. The Sith took a shaky step back, blood trickling down his face, before swinging his weapon in a wide arc.

Rex parried the hit and, with, tears blurring his vision, he reached out, grabbing Anakin by the arm and trying to wrench the weapon out of his grasp. “Anakin, stop!” he yelled, his grip tightening on the black sleeve of the Sith’s robe as they continued to wrestle. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, what his next move could possibly be. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all.

Now, up close and without the mask, he could see the man’s face clearly : mangled and scarred. His hair was longer, eyes more sunken, making his face look nearly skeletal, but it was him, without a shadow of a doubt. “You left me to die, Rex!” the man yelled in response, his words ringing over the explosions and wind. “You all did!” Rex could feel the blood draining from his face and his heart breaking into a million little pieces at the sound of his lover’s voice. “Ani, I...!” he tried to deny it, to defend himself, but the Sith cut him off with a vicious kick to the chest, sending him tumbling backwards to the ground. The lightsaber slipped from his grasp, sliding across the floor and out of reach. He struggled to get back up, his body aching and vision spinning, coughing violently, the vapors scratching at his throat and forcing tears out of his eyes. He could hear footsteps approaching and the hum of the lightsaber, as the fallen Jedi raised his weapon, ready to deliver the final blow. Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the Marauder descended upon the battlefield, the ship’s laser cannons firing at the Sith, kicking up debris and forcing him back, creating a barrier of fire between him and the injured clone. Rex looked over his shoulder, to see Echo standing on the entry ramp of the ship, as it hovered a few feet off the ground. “Get in!” the cyborg yelled, reaching out for his brother. “C’mon!” But Rex hesitated. He turned to look at the Sith, his heart sinking. Anakin stood at the other end of the platform, his gaze wild and filled with hate, pain, animalistic fury. “You did this to me!” he roared, his voice distorting and warping to the point that it could no longer be recognized as human. The wind picked up, tearing at his clothes and hair, throwing ash and smoke up into the air. The disembodied voices were now wailing, cackling, howling. “Ani, please!” Rex could feel tears streaming down his face. “Come back to us!” “Oh, Rex...” he chuckled mockingly. It was a sad, nearly pitiful sound. And as their world continued to fall apart around them, with waves of scalding hot liquid crashing against the supports of the bridge, eating through the metal like it was nothing, with the pieces of the bridge breaking off and falling into the ocean of lava, their eyes locked. And as the ground split apart, molten lava spewing like a geyser, the heat and fumes threatening to suffocate them, Anakin... smirked.

“...you are the one who left.”

[pqndas]

“two lovers entwined pass me by, and heaven knows I’m miserable now.”

Thoma with a pessimistic!reader

warnings! : this kind of rushed so sorry about any grammar mistakes and such, reader is a grump so, and a bit of a tsundere I guess, but overall quite fluffy, gn!reader ENJOY <3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

In all honesty, the utter shock on thoma’s face was indeed quite funny, however he wouldn’t agree with that especially after the comment you made about the innocent couple walking by, they were a young happy looking couple minding their own business, shyly one of the pair spoonfed the other, causing the blonde next to you to get all giddy and genuinely happy for them, imagining that this could be the two of you when he finally gets the confidence to ask you out.

tho it all came tumbling down once he heard the words leaving your mouth.

“I hope it’s actually poison.”

He didn’t expect you to say that, In fact he was so distracted by them to notice the look of disgust form on your face. Just how much more lovey dovey can they get? It was starting to annoy you.

though, you knew that this disgust was just you masking your jealousy, in fact you were certain you would find all this corny sappy stuff cute if you were the one experiencing it.

but of course, you’ve never really experienced any of that. And you’d rather die than admitting to liking it, so you’ll just stick to daydreaming about all that lovey dovey romantic stuff before bed.

However, it seems like there’s a goal in thoma’s mind, it’s surprising how he just didn’t give up on the idea of asking you out like a coward, in fact it gave him more determination to prove something to you!, although he doesn’t exactly know how.

he began testing the waters by small little gestures, offering to carry your stuff because “it seemed too heavy!”, Or holding your hand in a crowded area, and with a quick yet adorable smile he would say “I didn’t wanna lose you in there.”

Oh but once he sees the way your face flushes as you look away in embarrassment, he knows he can’t stop now, it’s like a reward to him!, but to you, ohoho- He just keeps treating you so good it’s driving you insane!

Though that doesn’t mean you’re the only one receiving here, he wouldn’t forget the day he bought dango for everyone— including you of course!

He however managed to forget one person, himself.

you watched him sulk for a moment and as he was about to change the subject, his green eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the dango you brought up to his face, he gave you a puzzled look, earning a huff from you- come on was he that oblivious!

“We can share, and quickly because people are staring.” To say that thoma was over the moon is an understatement, he just wanted to grab your cute face and kiss you so hard and make more people stare! But that’s for another time when he actually officially asks you out.

But the way his heart fluttered, he knew you felt that too.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ bonus!

•reader totally reads romance novels and is constantly teased by non-other than the sneaky fox herself yae, she gets pure joy from the reactions reader gives her, and god forbid she saw thoma with them oh my- she would absolutely enjoy teasing the both of them.

[prosebyday]

Glacier National Park

Grazia Curcuru

7/8/23

Grinnell Glacier, Many Glacier, Glacier National Park

I felt unstoppable today hiking the iconic Grinnell Glacier hike, my watch recorded 40k steps and Gaia recorded 13.6 miles, it was supposed to be 10.6 miles but I chose to hike down to Lake Grinnell at the bottom after hiking up to Upper Grinnell , because the lake looked so beautiful. I didn’t get any blisters but my toes were sore and as soon as we got to the lake I dipped my toes in the water. I felt amazing for hours after. A few hours later I felt the stiffness set in, I had to get ice out of the cooler for my knees because I couldn’t really move. 

7/9/23

Lake MacDonald, West Glacier, Glacier National Park 

We rested our legs and rented kayaks on Lake MacDonald in West Glacier after an early morning drive along Going to the Sun Road. It felt amazing to still explore while resting my sore muscles. I got to exercise my muscles that don’t get used on a hike. We walked the tourist trap shops, lined with Huckleberry jams, syrups, flavored coffees, all claiming to be “fought from the claws of grizzly bears.” They even sold scented tshirts, which did not seem very bear safe in an environment where we needed scent-proof bear bags for our food, lipbalm, sunscreen, a bear lock on our bear proof cooler, and bear spray on us at all times. I bought a Glacier National Park patch, like I do at every national park I’ve done a “deserving” hike at, because it makes me feel like a Girl Scout. I plan to sew them on a denim jacket. I picked the prettiest patch, with mountain goats, lakes, meadows, wildflowers – even though it had mountain goats – one of the few animals I hadn’t seen here yet. The lady at the register told me I can’t wear the patch until I see a mountain goat. I had one day left and knew I had to find one. 

It was brutally hot and sunny, so we went back to Lake MacDonald. There were children paddleboarding, insisting they’d “found a barrel” and they “think it’s full of oil.” The beach wasn’t sandy, it was formed with smooth small rocks. The water was crystal clear and warmed by the afternoon sun. The view of the mountains we kayaked towards hours earlier was directly in front of us as we swam and enjoyed the water, sharing giggles, a child laid face down on the hot rocky beach to “work on his tan.” 

7/10/23

Pitamaken Pass, Two Medicine, Glacier National Park

Pitamaken Pass was the most intensely grueling, gorgeous, and insane hike I’ve ever been on. There was so much exposure on the edge of the mountains, with a narrow trail and talus (loose rock), that tumbles under your feet down the side of the mountain. But it was a TRAIL, so it was still one of the least dangerous mountain hikes I’ve been on, because it’s maintained. There were gorgeous wildflower meadows and these funny white “bear paws” everywhere, they look like giant q-tips and only bloom every 5 years.

The trail changed so much over the 18 miles we hiked, from dense forest, muggy, humid and lush with brush; to trickling rivers with meadows, juniper, bushes, butterflies and red rocks; to walking along the rich blue of Old Man Lake. Then the slog of climbing up 1,000ft over a mile and 3,200 ft of elevation gain total (with a lot of up and down, which makes it feel like you’re never making progress). My brain was throbbing in my skull, rapid pulse, and swaying balance. I thought it must be dehydration or electrolytes, I told Adam I thought I was going to be sick, it was over an hour before I realized we had maxed out our altitude for this trip so far ~8,000ft, after only sleeping at ~5,000ft. So I carried on, tossed some Propel electrolyte mix in my Nalgene and took my shirt off to cool down, all in measures not to pass out, but also kept moving because the sun was beating down. There was no breeze or shade, but I hoped there would be both on the other side of the Pass. It didn’t come as quickly as I needed it, but as a breeze picked up once we got to the top – so did my dizzying headache. Once we got to the Pitamaken overlook on the continental divide, I sat on a slab of marble and ate some trail mix in the shade.

The next 3 miles of the trail looked like a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Our footsteps clashed like we were breaking tiles on the shrapnel of sedimentary rock. The rocks above and around us were flaky and layered like good pastry, but horrifying to walk on as they crumble around you. Beneath us was a steep drop down to the vibrant greens of pine forests, cool alpine lakes and trickling rivers, juxtaposing the crumbling gray and brown rocks we balanced and wobbled on. As I rounded the corner, I saw a scruffy white goat in the distance on top of the pass with mountains behind it. It didn’t look anything like the long-haired, fluffy rocky mountain goat you see in all the Glacier National Park merch, but July is shedding season. I took a picture and 4 more goats appeared and started grazing… on what, I don’t know, since I can’t recall anything growing at that altitude. I finally saw my mountain goat, 5 mountain goats. 

Storm clouds rolled in and it’s dangerous to be above the treeline in a storm. I picked up the pace, but the descent proved to be steeper and looser – it’s tricky to get traction on loose sand. The next few miles were a blur, a race against a storm. Eventually, I saw juniper next to my boots and looked up - I made it to a meadow, where things can grow! And I saw trees nearby. As I entered dense brush again, it was hot and humid, I was overheating and stripping layers. The dark clouds brought us some cooling shade and a light sprinkle, but it didn’t last long before the sun, heat and humidity were back and worse than ever. I was so hungry and sore and tired but I just wanted to get out so I kept my pace. 

Once we started bumping into older adults with trekking poles and no water or backpacks, I knew we were close because we parked near a campground. I took off my boots and socks, stood in a cold river to ice my swollen toes and watched a wedding party take pictures with the mountains while I ate trailmix, dirty and sweaty.

[theyrebasicallycanonpoll]

Jedtavius propaganda!!

(This is all just from the first movie btw. There's SO much more from it and from the other two. Here's a compilation of all their moments together)

Jedediah directly quotes Brokeback Mountain when he says, "I ain't quitting' you!" This not only implies they have watched the movie, but they have agreed together or independently to not allow themselves to drift apart and repeat the tragedy that Jack and Enid had. Now this, this is the thesis of the movie and I genuinely could write a college level essay on it.

In our introduction to them, they're shocked that Larry would let them out at night. The two of them immediately agree to cooperate, despite fighting soon after. But are they really? My firm belief is that it's just a bit, a game if you will. What else are they going to do? They know they can't really roam the whole museum because they might get trampled. They're mostly confined to their own hall, and there's not much to do. Them "fighting" is a way to pass the time, it gets out their energy, it helps them hone their skills should they ever need them, and it allows them to connect with each other.

We all know Jedediah's iconic, "Jedediah's impotent rage. His guns don't fire! Now take me away!" line. But doesn't that sound so out of character for our rough and tumble little guy? Doesn't it sound like something Octavius would say? The use of the word impotent, Jedediah doesn't normally use words like that. It's all very dramatic, very much Octavius. And Octavius calling Larry Mary. It's not something he, a roman general and emperor, would usually say. It's something Jedediah would say. They've spent enough time with each other to pick up on and use each others' manner of speech.

For a moment, I would like to draw your attention to Jedediah's "I don't like to be manhandled." There are certainly many insinuations we can draw from this. Isn't it rather odd that Jedediah only says this to Larry? Never to Octavius, his supposed rival, who is far more likely to be rough with him? Octavius never treats him poorly, even given they're "rivals." They have a level of deep trust and respect and friendship if Jedediah has shared that sort of trauma with him. Octavius knows not to be too rough with him.

Rapid fire list of some other moments!! - Jedediah locking Octavius in the stockade - Octavius' username on YouTube being "Daddy Oct" - Octavius trying to get President Obama to save Jedediah - Literally just the entire hourglass scene from the second movie GOD - Jedediah being weirdly jealous when Octavius shows interest in another blond guy in the third movie - The guy who played Octavius saying that Oct had an "unrequited love" for Jedediah - The guy who played Jedediah saying they were "almost like a love story" - THE HAND HOLDING. GOD. You need to watch the scene it's incredible

I promise all of these things are real, none of them are taken out of context, the NATM movies really are just this insane. Please please watch the above video

!!

[firawren]

"Transformation" A Beauty and the Beast fanfic

Chapter 9, “Covalent bonding,” rated E, now posted

Chapters: 9/17 now posted Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (Disney Animated Movies) Rating: Explicit

Romantic relationships: Belle/Beast, Gaston/Lumiere Platonic relationships: Gaston & Belle, Gaston & Beast

Key additional tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Love, Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Monster Fucking, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Redemption, Family, Friendship, see full list of tags on AO3

Excerpt from chapter 9:

Belle had loved each of the six nights she had spent sharing a bed with Beast. Feeling him so close to her as they kissed in the darkness was thrilling, yet each time, he would abruptly tell her to stop. And each time, she stopped, though she practically ached with how much she wanted to keep feeling his tongue in her mouth and his clawed hands clutching her close.

So she meant to stop when he asked on the seventh night of their sleeping together, too, but instead she blurted out, “Please, Beast, more.”

He had already pulled back when he told her to stop. She searched his face. Her vision had adjusted to the dark enough by then that she could make out the thin ring of glittering blue around his blown-wide pupils, and the hard set of his jaw as he stared at her, breathing roughly through his nose. The predatory way he was looking at her made the warmth in her belly pulse hotter.

“I want more,” she whispered.

His hands on her tightened, one cradling her head and the other gripping her hip. He looked back and forth between her eyes as if weighing something, then his jaw relaxed and he tilted his face closer to her.

“Those times when you kissed Adrien,” he asked, his voice hoarse and quiet, “did you ever do anything more than just kiss?”

“You remember his name?” she half laughed in surprise.

“Of course I do. I’m insanely jealous of him. That foolish kid is the only person who has properly kissed you.”

“Don’t be jealous, mon cœur. I like the way you kiss me, too.” She ran her thumb over his bottom lip.

“I know, but tell me, did you ever do anything more than just kiss with Adrien?”

Her face heated. “We…held each other close and touched each other’s bottoms a few times.”

Beast slid his hand down her hip to cup her ass and tug her closer to him. Her breath hitched. “Like this?”

Continue reading chapter 9 “Covalent bonding” of “Transformation” on AO3

Summary:

Belle said she loved him. Everything transformed to how it used to be.

Except the Beast.

Forced into a new deal with the Enchantress, Beast will remain in this form forever. Belle doesn’t mind; she’s happy with him no matter what he looks like. Beast tries to just be happy, too, and for a while, everything is wonderful. Beast doesn’t know how he got so lucky, and Belle finally feels at home. But when the trauma of his past resurfaces, the future they’re trying to build together comes tumbling down.

Gaston’s ideal future isn’t going to plan either. Instead of getting married to Belle, it looks like he’s becoming friends with her, while developing feelings for someone else he’d never expected. This wouldn’t be so bad, except that the closer he gets to both of them, the more he learns to question his values and feel guilty for his past. And when that past finally comes to light, he stands to lose everything he’s gained.

This is a story about how sometimes the things we want to transform can’t be changed, and sometimes the things we think are hopeless can transform through love.

[underforeversgrace]

definition of insanity (is doing the same thing)

definition of insanity (is doing the same thing)

Words: 11,694

Complete

Warnings: Dash centric fic, multiple references to bullying, suspected depression, and suspected self harm (no one actually hurts themself)

Summary:

AO3

It was only eight AM, yet Dash was quite confident in his feeling that this day was going to be absolutely perfect. Today was his sixteenth birthday and absolutely nothing bad could happen today.

It didn’t hurt that he was the most handsome, popular, and athletic male in the entire school. What could possibly go wrong on a day like today?

Dash grinned as he lounged right inside the front doors of the school. None of the teachers would reprimand him, no one wanted to risk losing the income the sports he played brought in, especially with how often walls and windows had to be rebuilt in the ghost central of America. His day was made all the more amazing when the nerd he’d been waiting for finally ran in, not noticing Dash.

Fenton ran too close beside Dash - this kid really did not have a single bone in his body concerned with self preservation, Dash had long since learned.

“Just who I wanted to see!” Dash yelled, grabbing Fenton by the back of his shirt collar and slamming him into the lockers beside them. Fenton yelped, in surprise or pain Dash wasn’t sure nor did he care.

“Oh lay off, Dash, I’m already late! Can’t we reschedule for lunch?” The loser whined, not even fighting back where Dash had him bodily lifted off the ground. Dash’s chest swelled with pride every time Fenton did that - Fenton knew he was no match for someone of Dash’s caliber and didn’t even try to pretend he was.

Good. Nerds belong in their place.

“But I had to tell you happy birthday!” Dash sing-songed as he dropped Fenton to his feet before bringing his knee up and slamming it into the loser’s stomach. He grunted, dropping to the ground with his arms wrapped around his center. 

Originally, Dash had been quite annoyed to learn he and Danny shared the same birthday. Until he’d learned that he was older (by seventeen minutes) and it meant he would never forget Fenton’s birthday.

And was there a present so sweet as beating a freak on his birthday? Dash couldn’t think of any.

Dash couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them, alone in the hallway, Fenton brought to his knees in front of his superiors. Dash pressed one of his feet against Fenton’s shoulder and pushed, knocking the skinny teen over.

When Fenton looked up at him after that, Dash could’ve sworn he saw his eyes flash green but they immediately returned to their normal blue, hatred practically radiating off the kid. 

“See you later, Fenturd!” Dash said, walking away. He couldn’t break his toy too early in the day, after all! That knee to the gut would leave a spectacular bruise already.

Man, life really was great when you had it all.

By the time lunch rolled around, the entire school seemed to have told him happy birthday - either out of friendship or fear. Personally, Dash liked the fearful ones even more. They held a sense of accomplishment, like the state championship Dash had led both the football and basketball team to last year, as a mere sophomore! He was the King of this school and absolutely no one was going to forget that.

Dash only knew of three who hadn’t told him happy birthday, but they were so small as to not even matter. He’d already beaten Fenton to the floor earlier, after all. Those three were the absolute rock bottom of the social ladder.

Still, Dash took great pleasure in body checking Fenton into the wall as he walked by, sending Fenton’s books tumbling to the ground.

“Still graceful as ever, huh, Fentonina?” The jock said with a smirk. Fenton just rolled his eyes, not even seeming to care it was just the two of them.

“I know you’re a little slow in your head, Dash, but you said no to the reschedule, remember? You already got your potshot in this morning.” Fenton scowled.

A single, solid punch to the face was Dash’s only response, feeling cartilage crunch and fold beneath his fist as he broke Fenton’s nose.

“What the fuck is your damage, Dash?” He demanded, voice muffled as he pressed his hand against the red dribbling out of his nose.

“You’re the only one here who’s damaged, loser.” Dash sneered, picking Fenton up and shoving him into his own still open locker, slamming the door closed and spinning the combination dial around to lock him in. He heard what sounded like Fenton banging the back of his head against the locker wall.

Feeling his task accomplished and his victim thoroughly bullied, Dash sauntered off to the cafeteria.

Of course, this is Casper High, so successfully finished lunches were few and far between. Not even five minutes after getting his helping of Questionable Slop, the hunter ghost who’d chased Dash and Phantom last year was there, screaming for the ghost child to show up. One of these days, Dash would figure out why a badass like Phantom apparently spent so much time around the school, he decided as the black and white form of their ghostly hero shot like a bullet through the lunchroom, catching Skulker in the stomach(?) with his elbow and forcing the both of them out the window, shattering the glass spectacularly.

“Now’s your chance, Dash!” Paulina urged to his side. Dash nodded, leaping from his seat, checking his pocket to make sure the paper was still there.

Feeling the soft crinkle of the worn paper where he wanted it to be, Dash marched out where the ghosts had gone. He did, however, use the door eight inches to the left of the window, deciding he did not want to be getting stitches today.

The fight hadn’t gotten very far, Dash realized as he slowly approached, keeping himself hidden behind some bushes.

“Come, whelp! Let your pelt adorn my bed!” The hunter declared.

Seriously, ew. What kind of nut was this guy before he died?

“Skulker, I’ve said it before, and I always hope to never say it again - stop trying to skin me!” Phantom yelled, throwing a green blast of energy with accuracy and speed that would have an MLB player salivating.

Skulker didn’t have time to dodge, catching the blast in his shoulder and getting knocked down. “But it is your birthday, child! What better present could there be than becoming a prized trophy in my collection?”

Phantom froze. “My birthday? You know it’s my birthday?”

“And your first death day!”

Dash scrunched his nose. First of all, hell yeah! He shared a birthday with the coolest ghost/person/thing ever! Second of all, did Phantom die on his birthday? Dash, entirely lacking the common sense of self preservation one should have after nearly a year under siege by ghosts, popped up out of the leaves. “Yo, Phantom bro, birthday twins!”

Phantom whirled around, eyes wide as he saw Dash. “Get out of here!” He shouted.

Deciding now was absolutely the perfect time like the truly brilliant student he was, Dash stepped closer, fishing the invitation from his pocket. “Actually, I-“

He was cut off with a yelp, jumping back as a blast landed an inch in front of his feet.

“Go!” Phantom yelled again before jumping back into battle with Skulker. Dash, not needing to be told twice, ran away and back into the cafeteria.

“Did you invite him, dude?” Kwan asked, practically jumping in his seat in hopeful excitement. 

He was very much not pouting as he crossed his arms on the table, dropping his head onto them like a pillow. “No. Skulker interrupted.” Dash’s head shot up at his next thought. “But, dude, guess what Skulker said!”

“What?” Star asked.

“Today’s Phantom’s birthday!”

“Like. Human birthday or… ghost… birthday?” Kwan said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Both. And Phantom confirmed it! Today’s his first death day!”

Kwan’s look of discomfort was quickly mirrored on Star and even Paulina. “What happened to him?” Kwan mumbled.

Dash was quiet as the stark realization of what he’d heard settled. It was the biggest question since the ghosts had came - who was Phantom? How did he die? How long has he been dead? No one truly knew - one news reporter had asked him as he had finished evacuating a burning building. Phantom hadn’t answered, but he’d never looked so murderous, green eyes burning so brightly they hurt to look at through a television screen. The Fentons had then reminded people to never ask a ghost about their death or their life - ghosts were not rational on a good day but those topics could trigger higher levels of violence.

It was one of the few times since ghosts had become commonplace that people actually listened to the advice. Powerful as he was, no one wanted Phantom angry at them.

Dash sat up, running a hand through his blond hair. “Now I double need to invite him to my birthday party. It can be his too!”

“Are you sure?  He may want to be alone.” Star pointed out.

“But who could possibly want that? To be alone on their birthday?”

“Maybe the kid who died on his?”

Dash grumbled. “Okay, maybe he’ll want to be alone. But I’m still going to invite him.”

“Just don’t push the literally most powerful ghost to ever set foot - er, fly through? - Amity Park, okay?”

He just nodded, not really paying attention to her words. He was going to make sure Phantom had a happy birthday!

The rest of lunch passed without any more excitement (though Dash noticed it was already over halfway through lunch period when Fenton finally came through), though the school got attacked no less than five more times by the end of the final bell. Paulina, the self-proclaimed gossip queen of Casper High, immediately began spreading the rumor that today was Phantom’s birthday and death day, so more people kept sticking around ghost fights to try to talk to him - Dash included, but Phantom always bolted as soon as the fight ended.

He sauntered through the school, looking for his favorite punching bag, deciding to get one last wailing in before they went home. Perfect, alone by his locker again! Today really was an amazing day.

Dash didn’t even bother with a greeting as he ducked closer to Fenton, driving his fist into his side.

Fenton, quite uncharacteristically, cried out in what sounded like actual pain, catching himself against his locker. That knee to the gut earlier must’ve left an impressive bruise to be hurting that much! Normally Fenton didn’t even bother acknowledging his pain, choosing to egg Dash on. Now, not even a single bit of talk back!

“Happy birthday!” Dash called, shoving Fenton back in his locker. Man, Fenton really did need to eat more, he was way too underweight. Not Dash’s problem, though!

Wiping his hands together and congratulating himself on a job well done, Dash walked away, towards the football field. There was no practice today, but it was a nice day outside, so the A-listers were meeting up at the bleachers.

Once again, however, after only a few minutes of them sitting there, ghosts decided to show up.

They all scrambled out of the way as soon as Phantom’s body collided with the plastic seats, collapsing several.

“Seriously, Plasmius, I am not in the mood!” Phantom snarled as the vampiric ghost appeared in front of him, cackling like a cartoon villain.

“Not enjoying my birthday present to you, dear Daniel?” Plasmius purred in a way that made Dash’s spine uncomfortable. The A-list, now long since used to the ghost fights, hadn’t gone very far away, just the opposite end of the bleachers, sitting down and resuming their chat. Or, they pretended to, they’d learned that listening to Phantom’s fights were troves of knowledge about their mysterious savior.

“You?” Phantom practically screeched, rising back to the sky, green crackling angrily in his hands. “You’re the one who told them it was my… death day and birthday?”

“Oh no, little badger! In fact, they were the ones to tell me it was your death day! I merely shared the knowledge it was also your birthday.”

The teenaged ghost lowered his hands slightly, the ectoplasm wavering some. “They knew it was my death day? How? Only three of us were there!”

Plasmius’s eyes were positively glittering as he responded. “Your screams were heard for miles, I’m told. Not a fun way to go, and by your own hand nonetheless!”

Dash nor the others had time to process that particular bomb before the ghosts moved too fast for human eyes to follow.

In an instant, Phantom was in front of them, highlighted and cast into shadows by the green behind him, falling to the ground as smoke rose from his chest, his suit burned clear through.

“I am so fucking sick of getting pushed around!” Phantom yelled, pushing himself back to his feet. Dash’s eyes widened at Phantom’s words. Despite being a teenager, no one had ever heard the dude swear. Or sound this furious, Dash would’ve been willing to bet.

The white haired ghost stood, not floating, seeming to plant his feet firmly onto the ground.

And then he screamed. 

As fast as possible, the entire A-List had their hands pressed to their ears, watching Plasmius get thrown back.

The scream didn’t last for long, Phantom closing his mouth as soon as the other ghost had been knocked away, pulling the Thermos he always wore from his hip and sucking the other ghost in. As soon as he capped back the Thermos, he slouched forward, groaning. A blue ring of light flickered around his waist before disappearing. Odd, that wasn’t a power they were familiar with him having.

“Phantom?” Kwan asked, though his voice was hard to hear. Dash’s ears were ringing so loudly it felt like metal was being stuck in them.

Phantom tensed at his name, turning around to face them, hopping back up off the ground and floating two or three feet up, summoning ice to his hand and pressing it against himself. At his face, though, Dash wondered if he should be fearing for his life. “What the absolute fuck is wrong with you goddamn morons?!” The ghost yelled, anger radiating from him. “Are your heads entirely fucking empty? Do you want to die or are you seriously just that stupid?”

All of the group seemed to wither under his glare, his power a physical pulse in the air as his familiar white aura seemed to expand and contract. Despite the day’s warmth, Dash felt a chill all the way to his bones, frost beginning to form on the bleachers surrounding them.

“Well?” Phantom pushed, even his voice like the crack that precedes an avalanche.

“We…” Dash tried, coming up empty as Phantom turned his full gaze onto Dash, rage and pain burning in the green glow. Dash had never been afraid of Phantom, not even at the beginning. He’d always been so clearly good. Now, however, Dash realized just how easily the ghost could snap him like a twig if he chose to do so. “I wanted to invite you to my birthday party this weekend?”

Phantom stepped closer to Dash, scowling. “You risked death, you got me shot, to invite me to your birthday party?” Dash could feel Paulina shaking behind him, he had no doubt Star was similarly protected behind Kwan. Phantom was terrifying. “And this isn’t even the first time! I’m tired of getting shot for a bunch of pieces of shit like you all!” Phantom came even closer to Dash, dropping down to match the human’s height, noses nearly touching. He grasped both of Dash’s upper arms and Dash could feel the bruising pressure of his grip, felt ice begin to run down his skin. “I would rather die again than spend a single fucking minute with any of you.”

Hatred laced his every word and Dash paled, suddenly genuinely wondering if he was about to die. Abruptly, Phantom pushed him, sending both Dash and Paulina crashing to the bleachers. “Stay out of the way of my fights. I’m done saving you. This is your only warning. Casper High would be better off without all of you.”

At that, Phantom flicked out of existence, the ice beginning to melt as soon as he did so.

“Dash, your arms!” Star gasped, covering her mouth. Dash glanced down at his bare arms, his jacket having long since been taken off. Dark purple bruises were already beginning to form where Phantom had gripped him. On top of that, though, was the clear imprint of reddish burns in the shape of a human hand.

“What just happened?” Kwan asked, staring around at the damaged bleachers as though he’d never seen the aftereffects of a ghost fight before.

“I’m sure my ghost boy didn’t mean it! He’s just having a bad day!” Paulina piped up but it was obvious even she didn’t entirely believe it. 

The entire encounter left a bitter taste in Dash’s mouth. He’d never seen Phantom that angry, his powers raging so uncontrollably.

“…did Phantom kill himself?” Dash finally asked, Plasmius’s last words echoing in his mind even as Phantom’s scream settled into memory. They’d always assumed Phantom had been something like them - a jock, the ruler of the school, putting his human enemies down as swiftly as he did his ghostly ones. For the first time, Dash was beginning to doubt that.

“I think it’s time to go home…” Star said, hopping down the bleacher steps. The group nearly immediately disbanded, each heading to their own homes.

Dash’s steps were slow as he walked, jacket pulled securely back on. Getting assaulted by Phantom was not something he wanted anyone to know about or to ever speak of again.

Had Phantom really meant it? All of it, any of it? That Casper was better off without them? Of course not, he couldn’t, Dash was the star of over half the sports teams at the school, surely that mattered. But being done saving them? Had they really gotten him shot that often? 

Had he really jumped in front of them to protect them so often, yet none of them even noticed?

A rock seemed to settle in his stomach, a feeling he was unfamiliar with clenching around his heart. Dash paused in front of his house, staring up at it. His parents’ cars were both gone, they must still be at work. He walked up the paved entry path, stopping to sit on the front stoop.

This was absolutely the worst birthday ever. What had he done so wrong that Phantom would apparently rather die than be around him and his friends? Would Phantom ever forgive them? Or had they just damned themselves to living in a city of ghosts without their only good protector?

He ran his fingers through his hairs, sighing. “I wish I could take it back. Do it over and get it right.” He said to the still air, the smell of his mother’s flowers wafting over to him. At least they smelled nice. His arms twinged. They’d been somewhat numb, still recovering from Phantom’s sub-zero grab, but seems they’d finally fully waken up he determined as it felt like fire laying into his skin.

Deciding that he absolutely was not the type of person to talk to himself on his front steps smelling the flowers, Dash went inside and (after researching it some on the family computer) pressed warm compresses against his injury. How in the hell does ice burn? It’s literally the opposite of fire! Which is what burns! At least football season hadn’t started yet, still in the early weeks of the school year. Every time he moved his arms or had any small contraction of his muscles, he ended up clenching his teeth together harshly as new flames seemed to circle his arm.

Deciding he was very much over today and that the pain was rapidly getting worse, Dash went to the bathroom, pulling out an old bottle of pain medication from an injury last year. He’d never really taken them, but he knew they knocked him out like a light.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

~~

“Wakey wakey, son! It’s time to get up!” His mother’s voice said, grabbing his arm and shaking him. Dash whined something incoherently, tucking his head further under his covers. “C’mon, baby! It’s your birthday! Up and at ‘em!” She called and he heard the sharp click clack of her heels against the hardwood floor as she walked out. Dash pushed himself up, keeping the covers around him like a cloak with a hood as he blearily looked around. A yawn, an eye rub, and then suddenly his brain turned on. It wasn’t his birthday. Was his mom okay? That had been yesterday!

Relinquishing his hold on his very soft and comfortable armor and letting it crumble to the ground, Dash hurried downstairs.

“Happy birthday!” His mom and dad called at the same time, his father setting off one of those little popper things. Was something wrong with both of his parents? The table was set just as it had been the previous morning - confetti pancakes with syrup, a single lit candle stuck into them.

“Are you guys okay?” Dash asked. “We celebrated my birthday yesterday.”

“Don’t be silly, Dash! Today’s your birthday!” His father said.

“Did you two hit your head or something?”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. Go check the computer if you want - today’s your birthday. I wasn’t even in town yesterday, I got home last night, remember?”

Dash, determined to help his parents out of whatever fugue state they were in, immediately beelined for the computer. He was, however, entirely stumped when the computer reflected back yesterday’s date - his birthday.

“Told ya so!” His mom sing-songed, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “You probably just dreamed it, dear.”

Dash hadn’t entirely heard her after she’d gripped his shoulder. He’d tensed, suddenly remembering the injury Phantom had given him, only to be surprised when there was no pain. He glanced back and forth between both arms - unblemished, unbruised, unburned. Had he dreamed the previous day? It had felt so real, though.

Thoroughly spooked, he returned back to the kitchen, pretending to laugh with his parents at his silliness, digging into his pancakes. He changed out of his pajamas and was out the door shortly after.

Something seemed to tingle at the edge of his senses - a feeling he couldn’t place, a sense humans didn’t possess. It spoke of wrongness. On arrival, he made his way to his locker, where he knew his friends would be waiting. He was, however, quite concerned when Paulina began to talk about the awful thing her cousin had said to her last night - something about her hair? - even though he didn’t really care. What he did care about, though, was this was the exact same thing she’d opened with yesterday. There was no way Dash had dreamt it. Was he in Groundhog Day now or something? A freaking time loop? But that was the stuff of fiction!

Then again, ghosts had been, too, until last year. What was the reason for the time loop in that movie, again? Falling in love with his coworker? That wasn’t helpful. As far as he knew, he didn’t harbor any secret loves. He also didn’t have coworkers. Well, maybe the guys on the sports teams? Would those count as coworkers? Hm, he’d have to think on that more later, he decided, as he noticed the time. For the first time that day, a grin had blossomed on his face.

Bullying Fenton on his birthday was absolutely worth the weird time loop.

Like yesterday, Paulina peeled off to her class as he walked towards the front door, lounging in the same place as before. Fenton came stumbling in at the same time, Dash caught him the same way, throwing him into the metal lockers.

“In a hurry, Fen-toenail?” He chuckled.

“Oh lay off, Dash, I’m already late! Can’t we reschedule for lunch?” He protested.

Wow, that was a hard hit of deja vu. 

“I have to tell you happy birthday!” Dash laughed, kneeing Fenton in the stomach again, watching him fall to the floor. He decided to mix it up a little - he kicked Fenton, hard, not the gentle push he’d done yesterday. Fenton let out a harsh breath, winded and knocked to the side. Again, he glared at Dash with passionate hate.

His eyes must’ve caught the lights the same way again, appearing to flare green for a moment before fading to blue.

“Later, loser!” He called, heading to class.

Again, Dash collected happy birthday wishes like the taxman collected money - mostly out of fear.

And again, he slammed into Fenton, sending the nerd against the locker and his books to the floor. “Geez, watch it, loser! Do you know how hard it is to get the smell of freak out of this letterman?”

“You didn’t reschedule, you got your potshot in this morning. Screw off.”

With all the elation of a kid on Christmas morning, Dash again broke Fenton’s nose, red spurting like a fountain. Not even waiting for Fenton’s responding quip, he threw Fenton into the locker.

Dash paused before he got to the cafeteria, trying to decide what he should do differently with Phantom when Skulker showed up. Maybe not announcing his presence would be a good idea? Yeah, perfect! Just wait for Phantom to catch the ghost and then invite him to the party! Surely he’d be in a better mood!

Into the lunchroom he went, not even bothering with getting a meal as he waited. Right on time - Skulker appeared, Phantom shortly after and through the windows they went. Much more careful this time, Dash followed, listening to the conversation again.

“Come, whelp! Let your pelt adorn my bed!”

“Seriously, Skulker, I am not in the mood. Fuck off before I Fade you.” Phantom hissed.

Huh, that was… not what Phantom had said on the previous today. Shouldn’t everything be exactly the same, if he doesn’t interfere with it?

Skulker laughed. “Is it your birthday or your death day giving you that much confidence?”

Phantom came to a stand still. “You know that? How do you possibly know that?”

“We heard you die, child!”

“H…heard me…die?” Phantom stuttered, staring at the metal ghost dumbfounded.

“You’ve got quite the scream on you, whelp. Even when entirely human! Every ghost within twenty miles heard you!” Skulker shouted. Phantom was stunned and looked slightly distressed. The hunter smirked, firing a missile at Phantom while he was distracted, blasting him into the tree behind him.

Phantom slumped to the ground and for a panicked moment, Dash wondered if it had knocked him out. Both Dash and Skulker were entirely confused as they realized he was shaking with laughter. Slowly, Phantom rose from the ground, hovering there as he continued to vibrate with mirth.

“Uh… ghost child?” Skulker asked, lowering his weapon. Considering he was made of metal, his expression of sheer confusion still managed to be quite obvious.

“Y’know what, Skulker?” Phantom said, setting his feet on the ground. “I’m actually glad to see you.”

“Are you… okay…?” The metal ghost asked awkwardly.

“No, actually, no, I’m not. I can’t kill my human bullies, even if I do have the urge to snap his fucking neck everytime I see him. But you?” A nearly sadistic grin spread across Phantom’s face. “You, I can beat into a pulp without remorse. Or, well. Scream into one.”

Dash barely had time to cover his ears as he recognized the stance Phantom was getting into, the same one from the bleachers yesterday. Uh, not yesterday? Whatever. Skulker, much like Plasmius previously, was thrown away by the shock waves. Again, Phantom didn’t hold the scream long, just long enough to hit Skulker, who seemed to have lost consciousness from it. Or not? His body wasn’t moving but Dash could definitely still hear muffled shouts from the ghost.

Phantom marched forward to the dark metal, shoving his hand into Skulker’s body, fishing around for a moment before pulling out a little green ghost, who continued to yell.

“Thanks for reminding me about my Wail. I forgot how quickly it knocked out your suit.” He said, sucking the small ghost up, leaving the metal body in the dirt.

Perfect, now is his chance! Dash walked forward, into Phantom’s line of sight. “Yo! Couldn’t help but to hear we share a birthday!” He called.

Phantom’s eyes narrowed at him. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Huh?”

“That’s unfortunate. I don’t want to share anything with someone like you.”

Dash’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t even done anything today! He’d done better! Phantom didn’t acknowledge him further, instead focusing on the other ghost’s metal suit. Dash watched as he summoned a huge ball of ectoplasm into his cupped hands, letting it grow larger and larger until he slammed it down onto the suit.

Dash held up his arm, protecting his face as shrapnel seemed to fire everywhere, no piece big enough to truly cause harm, but still littering him with small cuts, the spot where Phantom had fired a blackened starburst in the dirt.

“Leave me alone.” Phantom said before flying off.

Dash sulked his way back to the cafeteria. He had done things differently! He hadn’t interfered! Why was Phantom so angry with him? It just didn’t make sense! Dash adored Phantom!

He didn’t mention Phantom’s birthday this time, hoping it would encourage Phantom to not be so flighty after the many more attacks that day - seriously, were the ghosts doing this because it was his birth/death day? - but he still fled as soon as possible.

Dash ran into Fenton several more times that day and Dash hurt him every time - punching, kicking, pushing. He was hurt by Phantom and he needed an outlet for it. He could practically feel Fenton’s anger and hatred rise even higher each time, though still he never struck back, knowing he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He still shoved the nerd into his locker on his way to the football field, an idea in place to make Phantom like him again. An idea he quickly launched into action as soon as Phantom crashed into the bleachers.

“Plasmius, I am this fucking close to snapping if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.” Phantom growled, the sound nearly animalistic, as he lifted himself from the debris.

“Daniel, it almost sounds like you haven’t enjoyed my birthday present to you today!” Plasmius said, still in that voice that gave Dash a feeling of wrongness.

Tuning out the fight, Dash grabbed at Paulina and Star’s arms, pulling them out of the way. They followed, Kwan behind them, as Dash pulled them further away from harm.

“Uh, you good, dude?” Kwan asked when they reached a safe distance and Dash let go.

“More importantly, did that ghost just say it was mi amor’s birthday?” Paulina said, glancing around the large tree they were behind to watch the fight.

“Uhh…” Dash started. He hadn’t actually told any of them about the time loop. His friends, as much as he loved them… well, there was a reason they forced the chess club into doing their homework and Dash did not feel like explaining something he himself did not understand. “Well, you heard Phantom. And all those fights today! Dude seemed on edge and I didn’t want to risk getting in between them.”

Kwan and Star just shrugged, accepting his response. “Paulie, I think you’re right. That vampire dude definitely said it was Phantom’s birthday.” Star said, swapping the topic.

Their conversation was caught off by an explosion behind them. All four poked their heads around the tree, concerned and curious.

Plasmius had been slammed into the ground, Phantom standing over him. Actually standing. He grabbed at Plasmius’s collar, his aura seeming to whip and crack, nearly electrical in sound. He leaned down further over Plasmius and began absolutely wailing on the dude.

No powers, no quick wit. Just a fist repeatedly to the face, green soaking further into Phantom’s white glove with each throw. He didn’t relent for over a minute, finally straightening up, blood (ectoplasm?) splattered across his face, breathing heavily as though he had over exerted himself. Since when did Phantom breathe?

“More like me every day, hm, child?” Plasmius croaked from where he lay, bringing a hand to his face to rub his cheek.

Phantom didn’t say anything, instead slamming his foot down onto Plasmius’s head as he grabbed the Thermos, trapping the ghost he had so thoroughly just wailed on.

“Oh, my ghost boy, you’ve saved us again!” Paulina cried out, running towards him with her arms outstretched, the others following close behind to keep up with her. While the other three stopped, Paulina continued to propel herself forward, jumping for the ghost.

Phantom, scowling and covered in green, sidestepped her, causing her to launch herself onto the ground. “I didn’t even know you were here.”

“I got us out of the way!” Dash proclaimed, puffing his chest out. Star went to help Paulina up, who was staring at Phantom in shock.

“Congrats, you have a single brain cell. Did you expect a cookie?” Phantom asked.

“Well, I, uh… I thought…” Dash stuttered. Yes, he absolutely did expect praise. He shifted gears. “I wanted to invite you to my birthday party!”

Phantom sighed deeply, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Dash, listen to me for a minute, okay?”

“Of course!” Dash said eagerly, ready to cling to every word his hero spoke.

“I fucking hate you. All of you.” Phantom said, staring into Dash’s eyes. Dash felt his soul wither some, that hurt to hear. “I could not care less about you. You lack empathy, general human decency, and any semblance of kindness. I honestly and genuinely do not give a fuck what happens to you. You are a useless waste of space and I’m tired of pretending any different. There is not a single redeeming quality in that empty blond head of yours.” Phantom’s eyes swept over the other three. “None of you are any different.” He returned his gaze to Dash. “And I would genuinely rather die again than attend your party.”

Dash felt like his entire soul was collapsing. The one thing Phantom had said today that was the same - his absolute refusal of Dash’s party.

Bomb thoroughly dropped and detonated, Phantom jumped into the air and flew away, leaving the four A-Listers shell-shocked where they were.

“He… can’t have meant all of that, right?” Star asked, glancing at her friends. “Right?”

None of them had a good answer. Phantom’s hatred was so strong the taste of it lingered in the air.

Again, chastised and shamed, they split up and headed home.

Dash genuinely didn’t understand. He’d done so much better with Phantom today - staying out of his way, getting his friends out of the way. He hadn’t gotten hurt defending them. So why did he seem even angrier?

Dash arrived home as though in a fog - his thoughts all-consuming yet fleeting and faint. Heading straight to his room, he dropped heavily into his desk chair. Finally, well away from watchers, Dash started to cry.

Sure, other people had insulted him before, condemned him for his bullying. But never people whose opinions actually mattered. Phantom was the one person in this world that Dash actually gave a damn what he thought. But this was two days in a row that his hero, the person he most looked up to, practically flayed Dash alive with just his words.

Snippets of things he’d heard over the two days forced themselves to his mind. From the sounds of it, Phantom had been bullied and then killed himself in a spectacularly awful manner on his own birthday. It still just sounded so fake. Sure, that’s always the ‘dangers’ of bullying but it was just a scare tactic, people didn’t actually do it. At least not anyone he’d ever known.

Then there was the swearing. Phantom had always been known as someone who didn’t swear. He had been furious and abandoned the PG language.

It just didn’t make any sense. Dash couldn’t understand Phantom hating him. Cool people just didn’t dislike Dash, and Phantom was the coolest person around (both literally and figuratively).

The rest of the day saw Dash running circles in his mind, unable to accept Phantom’s hate and wondering if tomorrow would be today again. Other than making Phantom apparently dislike him more, there had been no significant changes. And movie logic said something good had to change for the main character before the loop would break.

When he awoke the next day to more confetti pancakes, Dash hoped more than anything this birthday was better than the past two.

Again at the school, Dash dutifully pretended to care about Paulina’s cousin. Once that wrapped up, he again hunted down Fenton. Dash was not having a good birthday and he needed an outlet. If Dash’s birthday was bad, then Danny Fenton’s was going to be worse. So Dash gave him the worst beating of the last three days that morning, not even bothering with banter as he slammed the smaller teen’s head into a locker. By the time he was done beating Fenton, they were both very late for class and Fenton was on the floor, leaning against the lockers, looking slightly dazed.

By the time lunch rolled around again (and Dash shoved Fenton into another locker), Dash had determined that school sucked enough but learning the exact same thing three days in a row was something akin to torture.

…even with learning it so many times, though, Dash probably still wouldn’t remember it come test day.

Dash settled into his normal spot and - when Phantom sent Skulker flying through a window - he remained there. He couldn’t piss off Phantom before the afternoon if he just didn’t interact with Phantom.

A position he continued to hold throughout the day, not even trying to disturb the ghost after the many other fights during school hours.

When he went to the football field (after making sure his favorite nerd had been taken care of), he was extremely confident in Phantom’s acceptance.

This time, though, it was Plasmius who was bodily thrown through the bleachers.

Well. That was certainly different.

“Daniel,” the vampirish ghost drawled, brushing plastic chips off his shoulder, “are you having that bad of a day?”

“Yes.” Phantom replied simply, blasting the offending ghost as Dash pulled the others away once more.

If anything, Phantom was even more brutal when he beat down his target, too, before capturing him. He’d also been injured a lot more, burns on his sides, arms, shoulders.

“Dude, are you okay?” Dash asked, stepping around the tree.

Phantom didn’t really answer, only growling in Dash’s general direction.

“Mi amor?” Paulina asked, moving in front of Dash and reaching for Phantom. “You’re hurt!”

Phantom barked a laugh. If he was going for an insane look, he was absolutely nailing it. Covered in green blood, rips and singed material littered over his suit, he looked more than slightly unhinged.

Dash walked forward, gently pulling Paulina behind him. “Phantom, are you okay?”

“Have you stopped being a piece of shit or grown a heart?” He retorted.

Dash felt his stomach sink. Phantom was still angry with him and he had no idea why. This was the third day in a row like this! And Dash was so over it. “What the hell is your problem, dude?” He asked, clenching his hands into fists.

“What’s yours?” The ghost shot back. Apparently noticing Dash’s fists, he grinned. “What? Gonna hit me?”

“What? No, of course not!” Dash responded, though he desperately wanted to. He was sick and tired of being disrespected by this ghost he held in such high esteem.

“Of course not,” Phantom scoffed, crossing his arms. “Bullies are cowards who only torment those weaker than them. You wouldn’t know a fair fight if it slapped you across the face.”

The other popular kids stayed behind Dash, wide-eyed and speechless at the interaction.

“Phantom…” Dash started, remembering some of the conversations that now never happened. “Were you bullied when you were alive?”

The ghost’s face immediately sobered. No longer looking like a mad man, he now just looked tired. “Yeah. You know what? Yeah, I was.”

“Is that why you’re dead?” Kwan piped up from behind Dash.

Phantom didn’t answer, instead dropping to sit on the ground, dropping his head into his hands. “I didn’t care about living anymore,” he confessed and they heard him begin to cry. “I didn’t care what happened to me and was reckless. And then I died and it still didn’t stop.”

The four of them looked at each other in bewilderment. None of them had actually expected an answer, expected Phantom to be having what appeared to be a mental breakdown. Sat like that, crying into his knees with his arms wrapped around himself, he didn’t look like a badass. He looked like a tired kid. Dash could tell the others were thinking about the sharp increase in ghost attacks today. Dash, however, was suddenly comparing himself to the crying hero in front of him.

He had heard enough the first two times he lived this day to know the ghosts had targeted Phantom specifically because it was his birthday/death day. Dash had targeted Fenton for the same reason. In this scenario, he was more like Phantom’s enemies than Phantom.

“Why are you like this?” Phantom asked. “What do you people get out of injuring and belittling someone else? How do you not care that you may be a catalyst to their deaths? I don’t understand. I just don’t.”

As the ghost continued to cry, the four looked at each other. That same feeling Dash got the first birthday rose up - a rock in his stomach, a pressure in his heart - but a name finally associated itself to the feeling. Guilt. Shame. And, now, a touch of fear. Bullying was supposed to be mostly harmless fun, not that serious. A way to reinforce his position at the top of the high school food chain.

He thought of stories of vengeful spirits - the old, scary stories before myth became real - as he listened to his hero cry. He thought of Fenton - of his escalating anger today, of Dash’s own escalating violence - and suddenly considered what Fenton would be like as a ghost. He’d kill Dash, wouldn’t he? Ruled by anger and vengeance.

Whoever had made Phantom’s human life hell must be incredibly lucky. Phantom had even said he wanted to kill his bully, but refrained from doing so.

Kwan was the one who eventually answered. “I… don’t know.”

Phantom chuckled though there was no humor in it. “Of course you don’t. Your victims are nothing to you other than sadistic fun.” He looked up from his knees, looking at the popular kids in front of him. “And you never even try to be better.” He sighed and returned to his feet. Then he was gone in an instant, flying away in a blur of black.

Dash wasn’t entirely sure what to think of the look on Phantom’s face. He’d been a force of pure terror when he was angry the past few days. But Dash almost felt like he’d rather see that side of Phantom again before seeing this one. No matter how angry he got, he still didn’t lash out. But that sadness? That hurt in the way your parents looking at you in disappointment did. And Dash found he didn’t entirely like that feeling.

“So, like, does anyone else suddenly feel, like, kinda sick to their stomach?” Star asked softly. 

“Yeah. I don’t think we can blame it on cafeteria food this time, though.” Paulina answered, nearly meek compared to her usual self.

They separated silently. Is this what people called a life changing event? Had Phantom’s human bully gone through it when Phantom had died?

Unpleasant as it was, Dash was grateful this was the event. Suddenly he was unsure of his belief that bullying didn’t really kill people. And Dash most certainly didn’t want death on his hands - in general or in a city with strong ghostly ties. He had some comfort in knowing Phantom’s death wasn’t his fault. 

He fully expected tomorrow to finally come. He’d learned a life lesson, so movie logic said it was time to continue forward.

However, when he awoke the next morning to another birthday breakfast, he was well and truly confused. What else could he do?

Maybe he had to put his lesson to practice? Get through the day without bullying? He wished he knew why he was in this time loop.

That day, he didn’t wait for Fenton at the front door. He simply went to his first period class and learned the same thing for the fourth time. And just like before, he did not take notes. There was only so much change someone could do in a single day (even if that single day took up four days).

His second period class, he shared with Fenton. Every now and again he glanced over at the teen, remembering Phantom. He imagined Fenton with ghost powers, with the ability and drive to take revenge.

He imagined learning Fenton had died and that Dash had driven him to his early grave. More and more came to mind at that thought. The Fentons, grieving a dead son, no longer building the weapons and shields that kept the town safe. Phantom and the Huntress did good jobs, but people still needed to be able to protect themselves until the hunters could arrive. The school, knowing what he did, blaming him for another student’s death. He doubted he’d be able to keep his position at the top of the school with blood on his hands.

The worst image that filtered in was a headstone and a fresh grave, with the name of a teen he knew, a teen he unknowingly convinced that a coffin was better than breath.

He felt guilt at just the possibility of it. Phantom’s breakdown yesterday had made sure that he’d never have to feel guilty for real.

He tried his best to focus on his classes but honestly, they were just so freaking boring! But at this point, maybe he had passively absorbed enough information or whatever to get a good grade on the next test, otherwise he’d have to wallop Fenton.

Wait, no. No walloping. No taking out anger on someone else. No hitting people except on the football field.

When he passed Fenton’s locker on the way to lunch, the brief mental image of a funeral was more than enough to keep his feet going forward. And when Phantom tackled Skulker out the window, he stayed in his seat. Mostly. Ducking under the cafeteria table whenever a ghost appeared was second nature at this point. Once Skulker had been successfully evicted from the room, he returned to his food, snickering along with several others as Lancer sighed, going to get the broom to clean it up.

When Lancer passed one of the tables, though, Dash temporarily paused. The teacher had gone in front of the table where Manson and Foley sat. Yet where Fenton was notably absent from. Dash hadn’t shoved him in a locker today. Why was he still late?

When Fenton once again walked in halfway through lunch, Dash was thoroughly confused. Was someone else bullying the weirdo? How had Dash not heard of it? He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Dash was now the only one alive who had seen Phantom’s pain, everyone else’s memories forgotten. Like the previous days, Dash didn’t bother explaining the whole repeating day thing. He’d get around to telling them when tomorrow finally came. He was repeating enough conversations without adding that one in.

Shrugging, Dash determined it wasn’t his problem. Even if it was bullying, it wasn’t any that Dash himself was responsible for, plus it couldn’t be that bad if Dash never even noticed it, with all the time he spent tormenting Fenton. So he continued on with his day, studiously avoiding Phantom’s fights. He’d try to invite Phantom to his party again during his fight with Plasmius later in the day, but he also wouldn’t push. He very much did not want to hear Phantom’s declaration of dying again being better than spending time with Dash’s group, thanks.

When he passed by Fenton’s locker for the last time that day, he had to admit he was proud of himself. An entire school day and he didn’t bully a single loser! This whole being a good person thing was actually kinda nice, he determined. So he continued on his way to the bleachers, not even acknowledging Fenton as he had for the entire day. Ignoring his existence wasn’t bullying, after all! He was reasonably certain of that.

Dash was the first one there this time instead of being the last as he had the past few todays. He plopped down on one of the seats in the front row, enjoying the gentle breeze on a warm day.

The sound of a metal clang drew the jock’s attention, glancing around for the source of the noise, just in time to see what looked like Foley’s stupid red hat disappearing under the bleachers. Huh? Had that always happened? Or had he changed something?

Curious and bored, Dash got up, heading over to the side Foley had gone under, peeking around the corner.

All three of them were under there - he could see Foley’s and Manson’s faces but Fenton’s back was to him. Worry burned on both faces he could see. Fenton had his shirt partially lifted, apparently something on him was the source of the concern?

“Danny, what the hell happened?” Manson asked, leaning forward and pressing a hand to Fenton’s stomach.

Whatever she touched, it made Fenton hiss in pain and pull away from her. “Kitty had a gun.”

Huh? What the hell kind of sentence was that? And why did the other two seem to accept it as a perfectly normal answer?

“They’re really gunning for you today, huh?” Foley said, looking off into the opposite distance. Wimp. What could possibly be so bad? Fenton was clearly standing on his own. Maybe a paintball gun or something?

“You’re telling me. I haven’t gone longer than thirty minutes between each of them. Apparently, Vlad was nice enough to tell them about my birthday so they could all bring me presents.” Between who? Who was Vlad? The only Vlad Dash could think of was Amity’s mysterious mayor. 

“Ugh, seriously? That guy is beyond a fruit loop, dude.” Foley said, shaking his head.

“Want to tell me something I don’t know?” Dash had never heard Fenton sound so tired. If nothing else, not bullying Fenton was absolutely worth it. Everyone knew there was something going on with them but no one knew what - most people’s best guess was they were all screwing each other. Dash made sure to keep quiet, being mindful of the metal bars around him. This could make for some amazing gossip!

…gossip wasn’t bullying right?

“Well, you need stitches. Is that something you knew?” Manson asked, moving to her knees and digging around in her spider shaped backpack.

Uh, what?

“I kinda guessed, yeah.” Fenton said, him and Foley joining Manson on the ground.

Uh, double what?

Manson pulled out a white kit from her bag and Dash felt rooted to the spot. Foley sat down near Manson and Fenton laid down on the ground, though he sat his head in Foley’s lap. Foley immediately began brushing his hand through Fenton’s hair.

Huh, maybe there was something to the rumor about them all sleeping together? Or at least the guys.

Dash nearly felt sick when Manson pushed up Fenton’s shirt, showing a large, deep gash on him, nearly the full length of his stomach. Who the hell had done that? And why was Fenton so calm? What was going on?

With fascinated horror, Dash silently watched Manson literally thread a thick needle and push it through Fenton’s skin. Fenton buried his head further into Foley’s lap and Foley leaned down closer to him as Fenton gripped at the other’s shirt.

There was something inherently wrong about the scene in front of him. Three teenagers - sixteen years old, like him - one laid out on the dirt while another stitched flesh together with what seemed to be practiced ease. Slick red blood trailed down Fenton’s stomach, stained Manson’s glove-less hands, practically glittering each time the light caught her hand the right way.

Throughout it all, Fenton never made a single sound of pain. Somehow, that was the worst part. Other than pulling Foley close to him, he just wasn’t reacting.

Dash heard as Fenton let out a loud, long sigh. Foley and Manson both began looking around, suddenly on high alert. Dash pressed himself further into the shadows, tensing when their eyes scanned over his spot. They didn’t seem to notice him, though.

“Seriously? Who is possibly left?” Foley asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out… bracelets? that he slipped on. What in the name of football was going on here?

“Guess it’s time to find out.” Fenton said, moving to sit up, Manson stopping him before he got very far by placing a hand on his chest.

“I only got half of it stitched. Be careful and try not to bust them?” She asked, also pulling silver bracelets onto either wrist.

The longer he watched, the more lost Dash became. 

“Don’t I always?” Fenton said, batting her hand away gently, pushing himself up to his feet.

Red continued to drop down his stomach, staining his skin, bleeding into the waist of his blue jeans, half open wound still weeping. Yet he just pulled his dark red shirt back down, the blood spot only visible as a dampness in the fabric.

“I’m not in the mood for hide and seek!” Fenton yelled, turning in a small circle, eyes sweeping the same way his friends’ had. Foley and Manson followed his lead, coming to their feet, their backs all pressed together as they gently spun. Goth and geek both raised their arms, hands pointed in front of them.

If Dash hadn’t just seen them treat Fenton as though it were a common occurrence, he may have laughed. They looked ridiculous, two of the three with arms held in front of them, yet all had looks of seriousness on their faces.

“Are you having a poor birthday, little badger?” A familiar voice asked.

His breath caught in his throat as the Wisconsin Ghost popped into existence, a cruel grin on his face.

“Y’know what? Yeah, I am. And it’s been a whole twenty minutes since I punched anything, so you’re right on time.” Fenton shot back, moving to stand in front of his friends protectively. “I got this, guys. Get out of the damage zone.”

What? What? What?

There was no way that was Fenton standing there, glaring into the face of the ghost considered to be one of even Phantom’s strongest enemies. Not Fenton, who had meekly taken beatings from a human boy. Dash, strong as he was, was still a toothpick to be snapped in half when compared to a ghost.

Manson and Foley ducked and ran, leaving Fenton and the ghost alone, Dash trapped in his hidden alcove. The ghost didn’t even acknowledge the two running away, merely crossing his arms over his chest as he hovered there.

“Now, Daniel, is that really how to speak to your elder?” Plasmius asked.

Wait. Wait, hold up, back up, rewind, be kind, restart, whatever. He’d heard something like this before. The ghost saying Daniel. But he had said that to Phantom, why now to Fenton?

Dash glanced around furtively, wondering if Phantom was actually here. Wait, duh, of course Phantom would arrive any moment now! He’d been here the other days!

“Well, at least you’re admitting you’re elderly.” Fenton said, smirking. “Maybe time to stop wearing a cape, hm?”

Plasmius’s grin dropped into a scowl and he summoned a pink blast to his hand, throwing it toward Fenton. Suddenly, Dash was trying to remember if he’d ever seen Fenton again after this fight, realizing he hadn’t. Does Fenton die today?

Sure he was about to see his classmate burnt to a crisp, he felt like his brain was short circuiting as Fenton leaped out of the way.

“Says the child in pajamas playing hero.” Plasmius said, his face returning to a neutral expression.

What the fuck was happening? Like, seriously? How had it only been a few minutes of this and how did he only have more questions without a single answer? Fenton was most definitely not in pajamas!

“Hey! I like my suit!” Fenton shouted, though it nearly sounded playful.

Someone. Anyone. An answer. Any answer. A single breadcrumb of context.

Plasmius shrugged. “Be that as it may. I didn’t come here to talk.” He said, blasting pink at Fenton again. Dash made a strangled noise as the shot connected with Fenton’s chest, slamming him backwards into the fencing, the sound of the impact mercifully covering Dash’s sound.

Fenton, his shirt slightly smoking, stepped forward. “No, you came here to get your ass kicked.”

No. No way. Was Fenton threatening Plasmius?

Plasmius smirked, reaching out and waving his hand in the universal ‘bring it on’ movement.

Fenton was threatening Plasmius… and Plasmius was goading him on?

“Goin’ ghost!” Fenton shouted, jumping into the air.

Dash.exe has stopped working.

His entire mind went blank as he watched the scene in front of him. Fenton was suspended in midair, far higher than he should’ve been able to jump and then not coming back down. Light swallowed him and nearly blinded Dash, yet the quarterback didn’t even blink. He saw the entire transformation, saw his weak, spineless classmate fade away and leave behind Phantom.

“Just for you today, Vladdie,” Phantom said, summoning energy to his hands. “We have a two for one special going! Two beat downs for the price of one!” 

With that, Phantom shot forward, sending himself and the other ghost beyond the bleachers, leaving Dash alone underneath.

He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and lowered himself to the ground, legs suddenly made of jelly. He didn’t understand. He had seen it but his brain didn’t understand what it meant.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there when he heard Phantom yelling halfway across the field, words muffled by distance. Dash remembered the first today - Phantom had gotten hurt protecting them. From the sounds of it, without Dash’s influence, the others had remained there and history repeated itself. But Phantom didn’t sound as angry this time. Fed up, but not furious the way he had that first day.

Because Fenton was Phantom. Because Fenton had spent the entire day being beaten by both ghosts and Dash. Because today was the anniversary of Fenton’s death.

Dash froze as Phantom phased in through the bleachers, settling on the ground, holding onto his side.

He didn’t remember speaking, didn’t remember telling his mouth to move. But nonetheless, he did. “I’m sorry.” Dash said.

Phantom whirled around at his voice. “Uh, you alright there, citizen?” He called, coming towards Dash.

“I know.” He said.

“Know what? You good? Come on, can you stand?” Phantom asked, stooping down to Dash’s level. He took Dash’s hands and pulled him to his feet. Regret, guilt, shame flooded him, stronger than any other iteration of today, as he felt the ice of Phantom’s body as the hero helped him. The chill of the grave.

“I… saw…” Dash tried to answer, but his tongue felt foreign to his own body. His entire being felt oddly disconnected from itself.

Phantom frowned as Dash swayed, reaching up and holding him steady by his upper arms, though he didn’t burn Dash with ice like he had the first day. “What did you see? Did something happen? C’mon, focus on my voice and try to ground yourself.”

Dash tried to say it, tried to say the human name for the ghost in front of him, but the word eluded him. “Your stitches were only half done. Were they always only half done?” The other times, had Phantom fought with that injury half mended? Or had Dash caused a delay the other days, Phantom having to fight Plasmius with his stomach sliced open?

“What did you just say?” Phantom said, jerking away from Dash. Without the ghost there to help him, he sunk back to the ground. Even his eyes felt confused, colors wrong and the world a little too tilted.

“She didn’t finish them. He arrived too early.”

“Dash. What did you see?” Phantom asked sharply, voice tinged with an emotion Dash knew so well. Fear. He’d heard it in so many others. An emotion that had always been a thrill to him, a success.

When was the last time Fenton had actually shown him fear? Or had he been a mere annoyance this entire time? Just a small delay to be forgotten immediately?

Well, it certainly hadn’t been forgotten at all. Phantom had grown angrier, crueler, the more Dash bullied him.

“Dash!” Phantom yelled, shaking him briefly. “What did you see?”

Dash looked up, Phantom’s face coming into sharp relief even though everything else seemed to be collapsing into colors and shapes Dash didn’t know. “Fenton.” He finally managed to say.

Phantom’s eyes widened in panic. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Danny said, pacing back and forth, though his feet didn’t actually appear to hit solid ground.

“The… the time loop… was this the lesson?” Dash thought aloud. Reality was slowly fading back into his consciousness, bringing back color and thoughts he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“What?” Phantom asked, stopping his pacing.

“I’ve been in a time loop. I’ve lived this day before.” Dash answered. He tried to push away the truth, the evidence in front of him, the realness of this situation. It pressed in on him even harder.

“Fucking Clockwork,” Danny swore. He squatted down in front of Dash, feet arched as he rested on his toes. “Tell me what’s happened.”

Dash didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think, to relive. To face what he’d done. But he had to. This was Phantom, his hero. This was Danny Fenton, his victim. “I… it’s… a long story.” He choked out.

“I’ve got time.” His classmate’s ghost said.

There was no avoiding this. The truth was collapsing into him and was impossible to stop. “This is the fourth day. The first day was just… normal. All the same ghost fights as this version of today. I was… my normal self. I was there with Skulker. I learned it was both your… birthday. And death day.”

Phantom paled, his aura seeming to dim.

“When Plasmius attacked, we didn’t get far enough away and you got hurt because of it. We… we had wanted to listen to your conversations. And Plasmius was talking.” Dash finally felt tears prick at his eyes. “He said you died painfully. And that you did it to yourself.”

Dash was shaking his head as he cried, let the knowledge of his actions burn into his mind. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Fenton. I never thought anyone would actually die!” He insisted, but it felt hollow as his eyes burned.

“I…” Phantom started, settling into a fully sitting position. ‘It isn’t… You…” He went quiet.

Dash pushed forward - he had begun, talked about the loop for the first time, and the flood gates weren’t going to close again. “You yelled at us. Called us… names we probably deserved. Burned me. And when I woke up the next day, it was my birthday again. The same things happened. I was worse, though. I acted worse. Hit harder. I stayed out of the way in the Skulker fight…” He trailed off, remembering how Phantom had laughed.

How he’d said he wanted to murder his human bully. Why hadn’t he? Dash would be no match for Phantom - for Fenton. 

“I only popped up after you had caught him. You were angry with me. I didn’t know why. And I took my anger out on… well, I got us away from the Plasmius fight. I thought it’d make you like me. If anything, you were angrier. The third day, yesterday, my yesterday at least, I just wanted to understand why, how to make it right. But… I also decided that since I wasn’t having a good birthday, Danny Fenton couldn’t be allowed to either.”

And he’d taken every beating. He’d get beaten by a ghost just to be turned into Dash’s line of fire. He never fought back.

Dash looked up at Phantom. He was holding himself, looking firmly at the blank ground. What was going through his head, Dash wondered? “I didn’t follow you for the Skulker fight. Didn’t bug you after any of the others during the day. The whole day, though, I was beating you so hard my knuckles hurt. That day after the Plasmius fight was the worst.”

“Did I hurt you again? I’m sorry.” Phantom mumbled into his knees.

The entire scene seemed to play on fast forward in his memories. Phantom’s words, Phantom’s cries. Remembered his certainty Fenton would’ve killed him. “No.” Dash finally answered. “You cried.”

“I what?” Phantom asked, incredulous.

“You cried. Completely broke. Told us you stopped caring about your life because of the bullying. And we just… we finally realized what the consequences could be. And I couldn’t do it anymore. Not after seeing the ghost of a dead teen like that.” Dash chuckled before he continued. “I was afraid I’d push Fenton too far and he’d come back as a ghost to get revenge.”

“So the difference today was just you not bullying Fen…” he sighed. “Beating me.”

A laceration cut so deep into Dash’s chest he was surprised when there wasn’t a real wound. He’d seen the change. He knew who Phantom was. But hearing it, the acknowledgment, somehow made it all the more real. Regardless, he nodded. “I got here early today. I saw Foley. I followed.”

“So you saw everything.” Phantom groaned, leaning his head onto his knees. “Dash,” he pleaded, “you can’t tell anyone. They’ll kill me and that’s the good option for what’ll happen.”

This time, Dash paled. He hadn’t even considered that. “I already… already caused your death once. I don’t want to again. This is my fault.”

“If it helps, I’m not, like, entirely dead?” Phantom offered. “And it’s not like I committed… died intentionally.”

“Would you have done whatever reckless thing it was that killed you without me?” Dash asked. 

Phantom fidgeted some. “It was an accident.”

“What I did wasn’t.” He said. 

Uncomfortable silence filtered into the air, neither sure where to go from there, until Dash remembered what else he had said. “What do you mean not entirely dead?”

He didn’t say anything, plucking off one of his gloves and reaching towards Dash. “Look for a pulse.”

Dash did as he was asked, though he nearly recoiled when he touched Phantom’s icy skin, so cold it hurt. “There’s nothing there,” Dash said guiltily. As far as he could tell, Fenton was very dead and just good at hiding.

Light flashed around the ghost again, the bleachers suddenly feeling dark when they disappeared, Phantom’s glow gone with it. Only a very normal looking Danny Fenton was there now, clothes bloody, sat beside Dash. “Now try.” He said, shaking his arm slightly.

It was faint and it was slow, but it was there. Dash made a sound of confusion, unable to articulate anything more complex than that.

“I’m half ghost. An accident with my parents' portal. Apparently dying between two worlds is a good way to not die,” he said, laughing softly at the end of it before returning to being serious. “I don’t recommend it though. Dying and coming back wasn’t pleasant.”

His screams could be heard for miles. Dash remembered both Skulker and Plasmius saying.

“Why didn’t you come for me?” Dash finally asked, the one question he had held back.

Fenton paused, resting his chin on his knee. “Honestly? Because hurting people is wrong and I didn’t want to be like that.”

Quiet stretched between them.

“Will you really not tell anyone? Can you even keep this secret?” Danny asked softly. “From everyone you know?”

“This town would collapse in a week without Phantom,” Dash answered. “And I don’t want any more guilt.”

“Can you do something for me?”

“Uh, sure? What?”

Danny studied Dash’s face. “Stop hurting people. Try to get the others to stop. Don’t just stop with me. Be better. Even if I didn’t take my own life, there is already a ghost haunting Casper who did.”

“Sidney Poindexter is real?” Dash asked. “I thought he was made up.”

“Nope, he’s real. One time he even thought I was bullying you and got pissed at me. Can you believe it?”

Dash snorted at the idea of Fenton bullying him. The old Fenton would’ve been too weak. The new Fenton was much stronger than Dash, in morals as well as strength. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m stopping. This isn’t who I want to be.”

“Good.” Fenton said, standing up, pressing a hand into his stomach. “Now, I’ve gotta go and get the rest of these stitches done.”

“I’m not sure how I completely managed to forget that. Are you okay to… travel?”

He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot worse. I’ll live.” He grinned. “As much as I ever do. For now, though, I’mma die right quick.” And again the transformation swept over him. He was up in the air and gone with the win without another word.

There were no confetti pancakes the next time Dash woke up.