#but amity never tried to take advantage of that. she never went back on her word to willow. she has lied to willow ONCE and then never agai

[kraviolis]

im gonna say it. the only people who genuinely think willow "forgave" amity too quick are all under 17 years old

[r3ynah]

Extended Family

DCxDP

An Au where, Maddie is Damian and Danyal, Biological mother besides Talia, Basically Talia and Maddie(+Jack) both grew up in LOA and were very best friends(lovers?? at some point including Jack). Talia wanted a natural birth for her son, as she was not really fond of the idea of a test tube baby. so she asked Maddie a favour to become a surrogate. which Maddie happily accepted. because of her experience with Jazz and Danyal's birth, Talia was sure Maddie can give birth to her son safely.

This was approved by Ra's Because he deemed Maddie as someone that could be trusted due to her becoming one of the most strongest and smart assassins in the LOA(He was fond of her, like really really fond.) So he accepted his daughter proposal for Maddie to become the surrogate.

And then Damian was born, Jazz and Danny basically loved Damian and would not go anywhere but the baby's side. Jack loved taking care of Damian due to Maddie and Talia not knowing how to take care of a baby with physical affection.(basically house husband behavior,).

As the kids grew they become closer through the years until you know, it wasn't safe for them in the LOA anymore so they helped Damian escape first to his Bio dad's place(They did let him pick though, if he wanted to stay with the fenton-nightangles or go to Bruce, he chose the latter because if something happened to them he'll have connections.) and then Maddie and Jack escaped with their children in a random town named Amity park. which turns out was a hotspot for Lazarus pits or Ectoplasm. (They decided to change the name cause everytime Jack hears the word pits he started laughing).

The children of course never severed their communication throughout the years. And Bruce never asked about his life at the LOA so he never introduced his half siblings.

Damian hated his older brother, Danyal with all his might. if you asked him to choose between his Half-sister Jazz or Danyal. He'll choose Jazz in a heartbeat.

He hated him, because of his foolishness and absolute neglect of his surroundings, making him a easy prey amongst people who wants to take advantage of him. He disliked Danyal's poor choices in life especially now.

The youngest wayne stood in the middle of one of the many hallways of his highschool as he stared at a certain, black haired and blue eyed girl, who was waving at him ecstatically, he contemplated if he should fight the girl head on or just run and escape.

Obviously in this situation he would pick the most desirable option to make sure his day wasn't ruined by his older brother, so he picked the latter. Damian dashed through the hallways, making sure to lose the girl before the third period started. He slowed down as he looked warily at his surroundings his back against the storage room incase he needed a hiding place from that test tube spawn.

When suddenly a pair of arms phased through the door embracing Damian as he tried to escape.

The girl giggled as she kept her hold on the older boy who tried to get her off him. "Hi uncle Damian!"

she greeted as she finally let go making space for the boy to take a step back.

"Danielle. Why are you here, Did Danyal send you to pester me?" He glared at his niece, as he kept his guard up.

"Kind of, mama sent me here to check up on you." She explained "You kinda went MIA when you stopped answering his texts and calls."

"This is absurd, I can take care of myself. him thinking something happened to me for not answering his calls is offending, I am not like him." Damian stated as he finally lowered his guard. And started to walk away expecting for Elle to follow to which she did.

"Eh.. You know him, His just paranoid he always is" Elle exclaimed as she looked at her schedule. "What's your next class Uncle?"

"Math."

"Ooh Yey! We're classmates, let's sit together!"

A groan left Damian as Elle chuckled and continued to look at her class schedule beside him, Peaceful quietness welcomed the two as they walked to their shared class.

——

"Do you have a apartment nearby?" Damian asked as he stood up from his table waiting for Elle as she packed her notebooks, only filled with doodles from both party.

"Nope, Mama requested that we move here for easier transport but i didn't wanna bother with all the moving stuff." Elle explained as she finished tidying up. "Beside I can just fly back and forth, what's the use of my powers if I can't abuse em."

"Your logic is as worse as Danyal." Damian exclaimed as they both headed out the door. "Follow along. you'll be staying at my manor this week."

"Why?" Elle asked suspiciously

"Because, It is a tiring job to use your flight ability for something so stupid." The boy explained.

"Is that really all?"

"Ofcourse not, As your uncle it's my job to keep you energized and unbothered, But as your mother's brother its my duty to annoy him for thinking i was in danger. so I'm basically taking you hostage at the manor." Damian grinned, as he took his niece's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost through the maze of hallways

"So basically kidnapping? I'm in."

——

"Master Damian, welcome home." Alfred greeted as he opened the front door. "And who might you be?"

"Hello Alfred, This is Danielle your Great-granddaughter." Damian said, making Alfred raise his eyebrows slightly before returning to his relaxed state.

"Well, nice to meet you Lady Danielle" Alfred greeted with a smile, as he shook her hand.

"Please call me Elle, Alfred" Elle brightly smiled

"Very well then Lady Elle." Alfred chuckled.

"Is father home yet?" Damian asked

"No not yet master Damian, you two may go to the living room as I prepare the guest room for Lady Elle." Alfred exclaimed as he headed to the kitchen to finish what he was doing.

Elle looked at Damian, Damian looked at Elle.

"I can feel my phone vibrating from my bag." She laughed. Her mother Danny was certainly going to be sad that his little brother kidnapped his daughter for a Uncle and niece Hangout.

[ask-little-red-riding-luz]

Red Riding Luz Chapter 2: Their First Encounter

Amity crouched low in the bushes as she waited for her prey. Odalia had gone off to leave her on her own for now as she had to get food for the family. She was expected to bring something back though. Preferably, as her mother had put it, the human’s liver. The thought made Amity’s stomach churn. It might be her mother’s favorite part of an animal but she had never been much of a fan. She was much more into marrow, thighs, breasts…

She blinked a few times before covering her face for a moment and burying her face into the ground. Not like that brain! It’s not like she thought about chickens like that! And she didn’t think about wolf or human breasts like that either. They were just softer, juicier cuts of meat. That was it. Why would a girl wolf even be attracted to another girl? It’s not like she could expand the pack that way and after her siblings...

She shut her eyes tight against the thoughts before cutting some strands of her brown hair that framed her face as she clawed at her head to help her focus. She was here to hunt. Here to kill. She couldn’t let thoughts of family and friends enter this space. It would only distract you. Make you think of what you were killing as anything more than a piece of meat. That was all it was though. All-

Her brain then immediately short circuited as she heard singing in the air. Carefree, lighthearted singing in a language she didn’t recognize. The voice sounded like it couldn’t think of a single worry in the world and the sound of her skipping only added to the idea that whatever was coming was lost in a land of their own. It warmed Amity’s chest as she let herself relax and enjoy it.

And then immediately regretted that as her prey skipped right past her.

‘No,’ Amity screamed internally before she began to zip through the brush, silent as any mouse or squirrel as she moved. She was small for a wolf, even of her age, but that was an advantage for her right now. She might not have the same amount of power in her pounces or claws, but she moved so much easier than her mother without disturbing anything. To become the shadow of death that she was born to be.

As she went along, she made sure to keep tabs on her prey. They had gotten an idea of what the girl was like by watching her leave the nearby town and what path she chose and Amity was supposed to have just jumped her at the spot that she’d setup but now she needed to replan. Figure out how fast the girl was going, how alert she might be, and where might be a good place to get her this time. After all, if she had a knife on her, giving her more than a moment or two of life after she emerged could prove lethal but to the wrong person.

It also kept her in earshot of that song though. It was only now that she noticed that, instead of belting it like her heart seemed to think she was doing, the human was singing fairly softly. Barely more than a whisper, but a noble creature such as her picked up on the tones all too easily. Not that she stayed with it perfectly. Whenever she dipped too far away to check the path ahead, she would lose it and would feel slower, heavier, and like things came back into focus rather than the blur they felt like when she was around the song. Because it had to be the song, right?

Amity forced herself not to whimper as she pressed her claws against her head before she moved to the edge of the treeline again and poked her head through the bushes. She nodded to herself as she watched the long stretch of path she’d finally found for them. She could watch and calculate for almost half a minute from her hiding spot now. She could get the perfect pounce this way. One jump, one kill. That’s all it would take.

That meant watching the girl though. Watching her as she bounced, twirled, and spun. Listening to that beautiful song that made her think her heart might explode. She tried to focus on her prey but that didn’t help. She wore a white tunic underneath the red cloak and long, rough leather pants that had somehow been dyed a dark purple. They hid how her legs might look but her arms were spindly, weak things that probably couldn’t hurt her even if the girl tried but… But that wasn’t how humans hurt wolves. Wolves were always stronger. She needed to focus on that. Focus on this being prey. She growled at the thoughts as she tried to focus.

And the singing stopped almost immediately. Amity’s heart sank as she realized what she had done. Now the human knew she was there. She may not know exactly where but she knew she was there. That they were in danger. They would likely run because of that. She couldn’t allow that. Not when she was expected to succeed in this hunt. Not when she couldn’t let her mom down.

So, she slowly came out of the bushes. She stayed low to the ground, on all fours as her yellow eyes locked looks with the human’s. The human’s messy, brown hair was too short to possibly obscure the gaze which was good. She needed them to stay there. Let her get closer as she slowly moved. She made sure to allow her eyes to intimidate her prey though, knowing that baring her fangs may be a step too far. Not when the human was already stunned as she was.

Or, so Amity thought. The girl suddenly squatted down as she gasped and squealed, “You’re so cute!”

Cute? Amity blinked a few times as one of her paws hung in the air and she swore her heart stopped from the statement. She was… cute?

She then shut her eyes and bared her teeth at the human. No. She was a noble predator. Not something to look at like a pet. She slammed her paw onto the ground as she growled at the other girl and continued her advance. She was hunter. The human prey. This was how it went.

The look of terror in the other girl’s eyes didn’t slow Amity though. She had killed too many smaller animals or watched her mother take down larger beasts to feel sympathy from that. In fact, she’d been trained to feel nothing at all on the hunt. That was how it was supposed to be. She’d just let herself get momentarily confused. That ended. Now.

The other girl opened her mouth to say something but Amity didn’t give her the chance. Not as she finally lunged towards the other girl. Her front claws slammed into the human’s shoulders and left thin cuts on them as she curled her paws around them to help her pin the human to the ground. She was too focused on just stopping the human right now to have gone for the throat immediately but that didn’t matter. Once she had a hold of this human, that would be it.

This human who’s pretty, brown eyes looked so terrified now that she was pinned to the ground. The sound of the goody basket crashing to the ground distracted Amity for a tenth of a second as she found herself pausing. Hesitating. There was no reason for it. Not when she was a born killer. Not when she was expected to bring food home. Expected to be successful in her hunt.

Amity brought up one of her claws high into the air as she growled loudly over the human. The other girl’s entire body was shaking from being paralyzed by the fear she must feel. The terror any prey felt moments before their life was taken. For a moment, Amity hoped that she didn’t blame herself for it. It wasn’t weakness after all. It was instinct. The natural order of things. Just as was the adrenaline burning through her as she prepared to finish the job.

“Mama.”

That made Amity stop properly now. It was an odd way to say it but it was still mom. Or had mom in it. Even if she was misunderstanding the human, it was too late. She now thought of her mom, howling at the moon just a few years prior because of trappers. How much her mom had been hurt then.

How much this human’s mom would be hurt losing them.

Amity shut her eyes tight as the claw still on the human sank deeper into her prey’s shoulder. Suddenly though, she let go. She then jumped off of the human, grabbed the basket so she had something, anything, to return home with. She then looked back at the other girl, met her eyes for another second, and then ran off into the woods to see if she could find anything to go with the basket. Something for her mom so she wouldn’t be as disappointed in her for failing at even the basics of being a wolf.

At failing at her first solo hunt.

[arkhamcalamity]

Human, huh? Not according to the town. This is familiar; tugging at a warmer memory, scattered with her tears in Alienor's lap, fingers gently tugging through her hair with soft humming until she stopped.

'No, you're not evil, Amity. You're just human.' '...Only when I have you.'

But Alienor wasn't here anymore. She hadn't been for a very long time. It was some small measure of comfort knowing Alienor had made it out of the town with Amity's daughter. Beatrix never knew anything but love as the Silverlocks raised her like their own. It was reassuring a little more to know Alienor had fallen in love again later and her descendants were still in the city. Not that Amity liked to look at them. They all kept her eyes you know. The current youngest was almost a spitting image. Not unlike how Olive Silverlock was nearly a mirror image of herself. Funny how things like that passed down so far. Funnier that their little mirrors went to the same school.

Eyes watching curiously, a flame danced around her fingers, not unlike when people flipped a coin through them. A thoughtful fidget as she contemplated the question.

"I don't regret what I did. I can't change what I am, and neither could they." She did regret not taking Beatrix and Alienor and running, never looking back. They'd talked about it, but too late.

"Ezekiel tried his best. He couldn't make them less afraid of what they didn't understand." Not for her gifts and not for her and Alienor's bond. And in the end, she still didn't know what they hated more.

"To what end would 'working through' anything do? When I'm so close to what I promised." And headstrong on finishing the job. Over half the families on her list eradicated completely. There's one area she has advantage- time.

"And what are you supposed to be working through here, professor?

"Psychology, dear child."

The fire made him long for his pipe, for an opportunity to take advantage of this blaze. It did well to warm his cold, cold bones, and the warmth lasted even after the specter had regained her form.

"I am a Professor of Psychology. The inner workings of the human mind. And you were human once, weren't you?" His voice is a soft whisper. He's no Joker, the madwoman that she was, and he's certainly no Mary, cunning and confident enough to have a specter at her beck and call. But psychoanalyzing an ethereal entity? Now, how often did he get to do that?

Quietly, Crane crossed one leg over the other and placed his hands in his lap. His disheveled hair hung in his face, framing his gaunt, scarred features and hiding much - as was by design. The body was the greatest tool a human had, when combined with a brain that knew how to use it. Learning to hide or to project, to misdirect or lead, to falsify or tell the truth with simply the movement of a muscle or two? It was the greatest asset at his disposal.

"You speak of their guilt, but with how... reverently you speak of your brother, it seems that, perhaps, you may feel some guilt over events in your past life. Or, at the very least... regrets." He had done this routine many, many times, and it felt good to dig into problems with good old fashioned heart to hearts, instead of dissecting a brain - or vivisecting it.

"I ask you these questions because trauma can be debilitating. It could be beneficial for you to work through it here."

So says the freak in a jumpsuit whose own trauma experiences drove him to commit heinous acts dedicate everything to a sick, diseased, filthy city that didn't want him.

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: Being A Amity and secretly married to Four, and One day your former boyfriend from Candor is caught spreading Lies about you. To gain political power

After Tris Things changed inside the safety of the city. The fractions. After what happened it all changed. People became furious and for the longest time, they tried to live without Fractions and tried to Be all the fractions, Kind, Smart, honest, and brave. Some people were better at it than others. Like Four. Those he hated showed his kindness and gentle nature to too many. It was a “weakness”, especially after Tris, the Entire city knew about him loving Tris and how she sacrificed herself to save everyone. You only met her once- well Met is a bold word.. you Saw her and Four making out while they were hiding. They were snuggled up close in the barn. You left them alone giving them some privacy and some bit of normal. You felt awful for them back then. On the run, wanted by everyone. Tris’s parents recently died. It was heartbreaking.

fast-forward to the battle. You were in charge of making sure Four Ate. He was a destroyed man after Tris’s Death. Your main job was to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid and to force him to eat. He ate whenever some of Tris’s friends showed up to check on him. After six months you took your kiddy gloves off and suggested Four take a shower.. cause he hasn’t had a bath, or a SHower in weeks and he was offending the flies. He said No. in his deep voice as you grabbed a bucket and started filling it up.

“You aren’t going to give me a sponge bath.”

You filled up two buckets. They were large almost a gallon he was using them as chairs. You said of course Not. As you walked over to him as you spoke, “Last chance.. go take a shower Four.”

“Piss off.”

so you grabbed the one bucket and dumped it over his head. “Jesus Hirst!”

He screamed yelping up as you snapped, ‘you smell worst than a dead pig in the summer sun! It’s time to Live again Four!”

he tried to fight you back but Four was barely eating he barely had the strength to get up and sit on the bed and stare out at the window. That’s all he did. He got up and stared out the window. And sat. All-day. It was your advantage in typical circumstances you could NEVER overthrow the great Four but he was weak and you grabbed a sponge to wash his arms. As he groaned. Giving in. Afterward, he complained the bed was wet. “It’s getting washed too. Come on!”

after that day you were more forceful in making sure he was doing what he was supposed to, eating his entire meal. Making him walk outside. You wished you were stricter on him sooner to get his ass out of bed. But you can’t change the past.

a Year passed when he was finally allowed to be alone, he was now in a better state of mind. Still sad but better state of mind. You were off on a new task. No longer having to watch him every day. Your new task was to help Johanna with helping the rest of the city. It happened without you noticing, Four was back helping out with the dauntless and helping the former frictionless. Your paths were crossed almost every day it was during a meeting. It was an open floor meeting half of the city was inside. This room was mainly used for the former choosing ceremonies but now that was history it was a meeting ground one of several changes all the times you preferred the open field in Amity it was less stuffy. The Heated topic on tonight’s lists went from fixing some buildings that were destroyed during the battle to if we should allow marriages between different fractions… People kept sticking to their own fractions and a couple came out of nowhere asking for Johnanna’s blessing to the marriage. But it was never discussed if it was allowed. You just assumed it was since the fractions were supposed to be finished, why wouldn’t marriage between a condor. And an Abnegation be allowed?

it was heated you were sitting off stage next to Four who was crossed armed soaking in the information as you shook your head. The majority of people were furious as Four noticed your hands huddled up grabbing pants as he leaned over whispering, “Change takes time.”

you turned to him as you spoke, “people are stupid.” He grinned weakly as he spoke, ‘not very Amity of you.”

“must be my Candor blood. In me.. dad is Candor” he grinned as you stood up. Walking to the stage as you asked to speak. Your former leader agreed. As you gave a speech about how everyone was talking about how cruel and heartless they were being it was No wonder that we were all science experiments for decades..”

It was an unspoken rule that you don’t talk about the Experiment.. everyone was still bitter and furious about it. And humiliated that every waking moment of their lives was broadcast and people watched them all for entertainment.

the Moment you called them all a bunch of idiots. And were escorted off. But other Amity. Four saw you in a different light. He was hooked.

it took a few months for you to see Four as Anything else than a friend. He was Kind, had a dry sense of humor, and was brave which wasn’t shocking but it was when he was giving a small flower to a little girl did you start noticing how handsome he was. It was you who kissed him. He was in heaven after that.

Mixing out of your fraction was- still touchy. People were still struggling with it after years of being drilled into their brains that you stick to your own. In a social gathering, it was acceptable. But one on one. It was- secretly frowned upon and rumors spread and rumors lead to disgrace within your former fraction. Even those the fractions were gone you still ate in Amity, you still slept there, you still worked in the fields when Johanna could afford to have you not by her side. Some rumors crept around that a few people who were caught in a romantic relationship with another fraction were kicked out. Of their home and had to become a “fraction less” and live in the gutter. That was the rumor. Officially they state that they wanted to co-exist with the more “free” fraction.

you weren’t worried that Johanna would boot you from your home, your friends, and your family. She would encourage your relationship, so in Amity you didn’t hide it. Only when you were out of the fraction. And around the city. Did you. Mainly for Four since he was still. Known as ‘Tris” boyfriend and he was a Symbol of freedom now. And the governments were worried him being involved with someone new would damage not only his image but the image they were trying to sell.

so you had no choice. Secretly being with him was better than Not being with him at all.

first comes love… then came marriage.

being married in secret after three years of dating, you were wearing a white dress as you and Four got married in a barn. With only a handful of trusted friends. And family. It was perfect.

things have changed after three years with your world. The government was more stable and the first elections as a free city were happening. There were still leaders from each former fraction just because it was easier for people to feel like they had a voice that way. But that was a leader above them now. Johanna was running for that. You were One of several Amity running to take her place. Your former boyfriend when you were a Candor before the choice was running for Candor. You broke up with him once you switched fractions it was practical you were not allowed to date out of fractions back then. Practically it made sense.. he did not see it as practical. He saw it as you running off to a different fraction too scared to admit you wanted to break up.

Four became your bodyguard.

Sitting at a table in Amity. You were looking at thur papers. This grand idea of you taking over for Jo. It was hilarious when she suggested you rather help people than this but she convinced you that you would help far more many people. You agreed but after all the paperwork and exhausting and people questioning your true “Amity” self, you realized. Jo Lied, this was Not a path you practically liked. But the runner-up for you was Eddie.. and Eddie was as dumb as bricks you couldn’t leave your fraction in his hands of him. He will do whatever is said he wouldn’t say the hard truths. Or hell. He wouldn’t do a damn thing to help everyone. He was too.. happy.

Four sat across from you as he spoke, “you should rest.’ You grinned hearing his grumpy tone Four was exhausted after this long day. He didn’t want to stay out in the open with you. He wanted you both home. Relaxing.

looking up from your papers as you grinned. “Resting or Resting?’ You raise your eyebrows at the second Resting as he grinned knowing you meant sex. He grinned ‘I would never say no.” You laughed as he smiled weakly a small grin happy he could make you laugh. It always surprises him he could make you laugh. It surprised him every time.

“Okay, you convinced me. Let’s go home.” You decreed packing up your papers he grinned until he heard a tree branch snap he turned seeing Eddie’s fault he was the Candor candidate and your former boyfriend. You noticed him also as he spoke, ‘did she tell you that she loves you?’

“Ed? What the hell are you doing here?” You didn’t bother answering his question he looked up at you. “You little bitch.”

“HEY!’ Four boomed as he got up. Putting himself in front of you, “Go, the home you drunk Ed.” you declared grabbing Four’s forearm and going to drag him away but Eddie cursed out rubbing his cheek and looking at you, “Did she tell you how she likes it done? she’s a pretty picky lover.” 

“Hey!” you snapped as Four freed himself from your grip as he spoke, “Go home Pal- your only going to get the lady upset when I break your nose.” 

“why do you care? she’s just some bitch.” 

Four screamed loudly pouching him straight in the nose as he screamed< “THAT IS MY FUCKING WIFE!!!!’ 

you sighed heavily rubbing your face as Eddie fell over and passed out. 

“your hand alright?” 

Four looked down seeing he spilled his knuckle as you walked over grabbing his hand softly kissing it. “you big tough guy. you didn’t have to pouch him- I could have handled it.” 

“he deserved worst.” 

you agreed as you spoke, “let’s get you home and mended. Especially now that you just outed us.” he sighed heavily as you reached up kissing his cheek, ‘thank you for protecting me and being all Four on him” he chuckled softly. as you pulled him away.  

“he’s a big blabber mouth- the entire city will know by morning you know.” 

“Good it’s about time they learned you’re married women- maybe your Fanclub will end.’ you laughed at that as you held his arm tightly hugging it as you spoke, ‘Nah- they will love it that they can’t have it.. people are weird.” 

[spoopylockerghost724]

Spectras origin

(This takes place in the late 40’s/early 50’s)

TW: sexual harassment will be discussed, stalking too, and Spectra dies quite painfully, also murder and revenge. This is not a happy story

Also, this is my first fanfiction I’ve ever written. I would absolutely love any feedback or critiques 

Edit: I actually wrote this on an app and I italicized the parts were Spectra was thinking to herself, but that did not translate on Tumblr and I didn’t realize that until after I posted this. Sorry about that

Penelope was always a bit uptight. She always had to have things a certain way. She didn’t have a choice. She always had to look presentable and professional. Not that anyone took her seriously anyways. She didn’t exactly pick a female dominated field. Everything had to be perfect. No cracks. The mask had to stay up 24/7. She crafted such a perfect persona, so that no one could see her flaws. But none of that mattered anymore, she was on her own now. It took work, but she was finally here. She had her own private practice and was even offered a job as a psychology professor at Amity University. She thought about it briefly, before turning down the offer. Working as a professor would mean that she would be working under someone else- most likely a man who would underestimate her- and she liked to have control. She liked to have power to set her own hours and make her office feel like home. And she would much rather help people in need than teaching a bunch of suck up undergrad toadies who would disrespect her anyways. She was so proud of herself. Her nameplate on her desk read: Penelope Spectra Ph.D. PHD! She finally had her doctorate. After years of blood, sweat, and tears. After years of hell on earth; years of listening to her professors talk behind her back about how she would never make it, years of dealing with her peers underestimating her, years of enduring harassment from others, years of her everyone saying it would be so much easier if she just gave up, years of her feeling inadequate. She finally made it. Dr. Penelope Spectra. The joy was incredible.

It had been a few years since she had opened her private practice, but the feeling of euphoria never wore off. Not once.

She had a great life. She had a nice house, a wonderful job, good health, and she got to help people. She didn’t have many friends, but she did have many admirers. She was always invited to parties. She never liked parties, but she had to keep up appearances so she went anyways. Why would anyone want to see an asocial psychologist anyways? So, she made herself look pretty and put on a show. Everyone loved her in red, so she always wore red. Everyone preferred her to be loud and charismatic so she pretended to be. She never really got to be herself unless she was in the office or by herself. It was exhausting, but pretending outside of the house/office was a lot better than having others think less of you.

The only thing about parties she really hated were the men. Like dogs pouncing on you. Sucking up to you. Sniffing you hoping that you will give the mating signal. All of those reassurances and little epithets to make you think that they just want you for love. No. Spectra wasn’t dense. She knew her worth. A young, attractive, well-off, doctor with a body like hers. They just wanted her for her curves and her cash. So many men had tried to take advantage of her.

She was in her room prepping for one of her parties. Her hair was curled to perfection, her eyeliner was sharp enough to kill, her eyelashes were high enough to reach heaven, her lips were blood red, she added a bit of eyeliner to enhance that beauty mark under her left eye, she adorned herself with the finest jewels and on her neck was a string of pearls, her dress was as red as her lips and her fabulous pumps matched. She felt like a million dollars, and she certainly looked the part. I might actually enjoy this party. For once she felt completely at ease. When she arrived, everything was perfect. The men were still flirty, but remained respectful. She was able to join in some polite conversations. Everything was going wonderfully. Then she saw him. That awful man.

She ran. She made up some excuse to the host and left. She hoped that he hadn’t seen her. Penelope got into her car, and floored it. She didn’t even take the time to buckle her seatbelt. She swore that there was a car following her, so she sped up. By the time she got home she was in full panic mode. She took some hydroxyzine, and fell asleep.

After a couple of days she had completely forgotten all about the party.

Penelope woke up on a beautiful Friday morning, did her morning routine, and went out to fetch the paper. Her paper was missing, but there were flowers on the steps. They must have been from Stefan. That man never knew when to give up, did he? Huh? That’s unusual, no signature. That was probably just Stefan trying a different tactic this time. Honestly men can be so immature, thats why she doesn’t date. She doesn’t have time to focus on Stefan’s antics. She had to get to work. She got up with a pep in her step and a desire to help.

Her first client of the day was her favorite. His name was Sidney. He was brought in for severe social anxiety and dysthymia. She loved to help teenagers the most. Her session went well. She had seen so much progress in the past year that she had been treating Sidney. The rest of her sessions went well too.

After Penelope’s sessions had finished up she worked on some paperwork and left her office. She found a note on her cars windshield. It was a very cryptic note. Almost like a riddle. Must be some sick prank from some kid. As she drove home that feeling of someone following her returned. She saw that car again, but it just had to be a coincidence. She got home took some hydroxyzine and had a glass of wine (yes she knows not to take hydroxyzine with alcohol, no she doesn’t care. Kids don’t try this at home).

Later that night she found a letter on her bed without a senders address. How did they get in my house? That handwriting looks awfully familiar. She didn’t read the letter, she looked at the signature.

The following afternoon she didn’t come back from work. Nobody found a body. Andy said that she went on vacation. Andy knew that her destination was inside the swamp he threw her corpse in.

Which is why Andy was surprised when she came back. Her sessions continued and she never seemed to acknowledge him. Although many of her male clients with assault accusations had a habit of disappearing after being driven mad. Nobody noticed how Dr. Spectra never aged. Nobody noticed a thing. Andy came one day to meet her, afterwards he was quickly thrown into a long term treatment facility. He was delusional and made wild claims about killing his ex girlfriend. A woman he had never dated who was clearly alive and well.

[sergeantsporks]

Do You Want the Knife You Left In My Back, or Can I Keep It?

Rating: Teen and up, Gen

An injured Hunter wanders into Hexside. What was Luz supposed to do, just let him bleed out on the floor?

Ch1/?: Backstabber

Ao3

“The human must be truly formidable if the Emperor sent both of us to capture her.”

Hunter glanced back at Kikimora. “Nah, he was probably just worried that you’d mess it up, so he sent me to make sure it went smoothly.”

Kikimora studied her claws. “I know it was you that attacked me when I tried to bring the palisman to the Emperor. You and the human.”

Hunter whipped around. “Oh, do you want to talk about that now? Because I know that you knocked my airship out of the sky and tried to have me killed. So you have nothing on me. You tell the Emperor what I did, I tell him what you did.”

“The human really must be formidable if she managed to get the palisman from you.”

Hunter rolled his eyes behind his mask. “She’s really not. I was a little bit busy fighting you to worry about her.”

“Truly a strong foe,” Kikimora continued, “So strong she was able to overcome you.”

“What are you talking ab—”

A blast of magic hit him, and magical bonds snaked around his hands and feet, yanking on him and sending him to his knees. Hunter struggled and tugged against the ties, but they held firm. “HEY! Kikimora, what—”

Something sharp touched his back, right between his shoulder blades, and he froze. “She attacked us from behind,” Kikimora hissed in his ear, “She went for you, first.” Something slammed into his back, like she’d punched him. “She was brutal. Merciless.”

Kikimora twisted her hand, and Hunter felt a tingling shock, and then—

His world exploded. Heat flooded out from the wound, and Hunter heard a guttural, choking scream.

Oh, wait.

That was him.

Kikimora pushed him facedown to the ground, knife still in his back. “I killed her, of course. It was a tough fight, but to avenge a fellow coven member? Of course I didn’t give up until I succeeded.”

Hunter coughed, blood coating the inside of his mouth. “Kiiii…”

“That’s what happens,” Kikimora hissed, “when people try to replace me.”

She walked off, and Hunter just lay there on the ground, his mind fuzzy with pain.

He had to…

Ugh—

Hunter pulled out his staff, and inch by agonizing inch, used it to pull himself up, shaking. He twisted, reaching for the knife, but the movement just tore more, and the world blacked out for a second. He gripped his staff tightly, his knuckles white.

Kikimora could easily kill him in this state, if the wound itself didn’t kill him.

That meant the only thing standing between her and total control over the coven and Uncle Belos’ complete trust was… Luz.

Kikimora would probably go to the owl house first.

That gave Hunter the advantage.

Xxx

“Thorn vault!” Luz called, slamming her hand down on her glyph. The plant erupted outward, pushing her over Skara’s head to the goal. Skara jumped, but missed her by inches. “Ah! Not again!”

Luz touched down. “You’ll get it someday.”

“Unlikely!” Gus called from the bleachers, “I predict never!”

“Zip it, twerp!” Skara yelled back, “Just wave your flags!” She dusted herself off. “One more try?”

“One more try,” Luz agreed, “Amity, you ready?”

“Always!”

Gus screeched, pointing. “Luz!”

Luz whipped around in the direction he was pointing to see an awfully familiar staff moving slowly towards her.

And the person clutching it like a lifeline.

Amity raced towards Luz, skidding in front of her, an abomination already rising out of the dirt. “Stay back!” she warned Hunter, “I beat you once, I can do it again!”

Luz put a hand on her arm. “Wait! There’s something wrong!” She moved cautiously towards Hunter—he looked awful. Residue magic swirled around his wrists and ankles, and…

“Is that blood?!” Luz rushed forward to him, taking his arm. She stifled a scream at the jagged blade sticking out of his back, blood staining his white cape red. “Ohmygosh, what happened to you?!”

His chest heaved with ragged breaths. “Kikimora—never thought—this open—” He slumped against her. “After… you…”

“Find Viney!” Luz yelled to Skara, “Amity—”

“I’m not leaving you alone with him!”

“Okay, fine, Gus, get Eda!”

Luz lowered Hunter to the ground, holding him up so that the knife wouldn’t go further in. “Don’t die!”

Amity hovered over them. “What did you mean, ‘after you?’ Were you coming to hurt Luz?!”

Hunter coughed, blood flecking his lips. “I…”

“Amity, he’s in really bad shape! You can’t interrogate him right now!”

Hunter pawed weakly at her hand. “Kikimora… want��� to kill… you… exposed…”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Big bad coven leader wants me dead. Now shhhhhh, stop moving around, you’re going to make it worse!”

Puddles landed next to her, Viney sliding off of his back. “Whoa! You must have been having the most intense grudgeby match of all time!” She knelt next to them, gently turning Hunter onto his stomach. “Oooo, that’s bad. You should have gotten the healing teacher, I don’t know if—”

Luz grabbed her arm. “No! No teachers! Please.”

Viney hissed, examining the knife. “This isn’t just a regular knife—there are some kinds of objects that are enchanted to be resilient to healing magic—in case you really, really want to make sure your enemy bites it.” She drew a circle with her finger, and the knife glowed golden. “This one isn’t too powerful—I can stop the bleeding and put a patch on all of the internal problems, but I can’t seal it up. He’ll have to heal on his own. Where did you even get this knife?!”

Hunter whimpered, and Luz grabbed Viney’s hand. “It doesn’t matter! Just do it, before he dies!”

“Okay.” Viney snapped her fingers, and Puddles shooed Luz to the side, offering Hunter a cloth to bite down on and gently holding him still with his talons. Viney took a deep breath, and the knife glowed again, floating out of Hunter’s back, the cloak floating away, too. Hunter let out a muffled scream into the cloth, and tensed, which just made the blood spurt harder out of the wound. Viney drew a circle over his back, and the bleeding abruptly stopped. Puddles coughed up bandages, and a needle and thread, and Viney nodded to Luz and Amity. “This isn’t going to be pretty. You might want to look away.”

Amity pulled Luz away. “Luz, what exactly are you planning to do now? Just dump him on the doorstep of the conformatorium and run away?”

“No way! What if Kikimora finds him first? We can’t just send him back, she is literally trying to kill him!”

“And he’s trying to catch you!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let him die!” Luz took Amity’s hands. “Amity, you fought him too. You didn’t feel even a little bit bad for him?”

Amity looked away. “Maybe a little bit,” she admitted, “But… if you’re not going to leave him with his coven, what is your plan?”

Luz bit her lip, staring at the ground. “Iwasthinkingmaybehecouldstayattheowlhouse,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“I was thinking he could stay with me,” she said louder, “At the owl house.”

“What?! No way! Luz, are you crazy?!”

“Ooo, hehe, jury’s still out on that one, Amity, you know that.”

“I’m serious, Luz, you can’t let him into the owl house!”

“Look at him, Amity, does he look dangerous to you?”

Amity looked back to where he was lying limp on the grudgeby field, Puddles nuzzling his face. “… I guess not… but still, he doesn’t have to attack you, all he has to do is put a trap, or let someone else into the owl house to bump you off!”

“The only people out for me right now are him and Kikimora. And Kikimora is also trying to kill him. Sooooooo I’m not overly worried about it.” Luz gave Amity’s hands a squeeze. “C’mon. I think I can handle one stabbed guy in a fight, give me that much credit at least.”

“… Fine. But good luck convincing Eda, she doesn’t exactly have the most… friendly of feelings towards him.”

Speak of the devil, Eda flew over the fence on her staff, Gus hanging onto the end. “I heard a kid got stabbed! Luz, you didn’t tell me it was knife day at school, I would have come to watch!”

“Kni—okay, sure, that’s a thing. It’s not knife day, Eda. None of the students got stabbed.”

“What? So what happened?”

Luz pointed across the field. “Uhhhhhhhm, soooooooo?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Eeeeedaaaaaa, I haven’t even asked anything yet!”

“Okay, let me set parameters for your next few sentences, then. If you are about to ask me if we can, in any way, shape, or form, take care of the Golden Guard and his lovely new piercing, the answer is no.”

“But Eda—”

“No. Nada. Nein. You speak Spanish, right? No. Any other ways I can say it?”

“Eda, he needs help!”

“Dump him on his coven’s doorstep, ring the doorbell, and run away. We’re not taking care of him.”

“Eda, listen—”

“No, you listen, Luz. That kid is trouble—and not the fun kind. You try to be nice to him, and he’ll stab you in the back. He’s been Belos-ified through and through.”

“I thought the same thing about Lilith!”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t. My sister’s too much of a nerdy dork to ever be really horrible. This kid’s a nerd, sure, but he’s not Lili. He’s dangerous, he’s desperate, and unlike Lilith, he’s working completely for Belos, not himself.”

“Eda, Kikimora’s trying to kill him!”

“Well, I hope they succeed at murdering each other, and maybe take Belos down with them while they’re at it.”

“It would be murder to leave him at the coven!”

“Guess I’m going to be a murderer, then. Add it to the list of crimes.”

“Wouldn’t you want him to help me if I was in his place? If you were stuck in the owl beast form, and King was trying to kill me, wouldn’t you want him to help me?”

“I sincerely doubt King’s murdering skills, and NO, I think I wouldn’t want you anywhere close to Belos.”

Luz gave Eda big puppy-dog eyes, and her mentor sighed.

“Buuuuut I guess I see your point. Gah. Fiiiiiiiineee. You can take him home.” Eda leveled a finger at Luz. “But you have to feed him, and water him, and clean up after his messes, and keep him entertained, understood?”

“He’s not a pet, Eda.”

“I said, understood?”

“Understood.” Luz hugged Eda. “Thank you!”

“Oh, and if he tries to hurt you, if he tries to sell us out to Belos? I will do Kookymora a solid and finish the job.”

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1

Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.

In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.

AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |

CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)

-----

WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.

Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.

Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.

He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.

When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.

Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.

He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.

-------

Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.

(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)

It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.

“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”

Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.

Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.

Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.

His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.

Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.

Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?

But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.

Danny doesn’t risk it.

(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)

He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.

Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.

Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)

The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.

Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.

His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.

Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.

His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.

-------

Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).

And then—

And then.

Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.

The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.

The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”

Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.

He jerked from her hold.

Burned by it.

“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”

Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”

“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.

(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)

He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.

Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.

The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.

The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.

Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Reverse Au! Dump

Don’t mind my idea dumping here. Brain decided to have fun while I was at work and I have too many wips as it is, so… Thought I’d ask before I dumped, experience. Used morningmark’s comics as a base, so if you want reference. Now this isn’t all that well compiled, but here it goes.

~

Magic in the Other World is varied as it is crazy. So many styles over the generations and not a lot of organization. There are some that try to categorize it all, but that works as well as you’d expect. Some were lost, some erased, some weren’t passed down/recorded because “the power is all mine! Ahahaha!” It took a lot of time and collaboration, but eventually a sort of system was installed to help out. Still a lot of work to do, but its a step forward. Nowadays the term Wild Magic is generally reserved for those that aren’t all that well documented and understood.

Some Magics are very powerful and desirable, but also tend to be very high risk/high reward, kinda pass/fail, pretty literally Do or Die most times. So not a lot of people can use those or are even willing to. Story says this one guy named Odin hung himself on a massive tree by his own spear for nine days, no food water or rest in constant pain before he could unlock the secret of Runes. But it’s also said he gouged out his own eye to drink from the Well of Wisdom so… 

There are lots of different ways to channel magic too: wands, staves, jewelry, certain gems, familiars, potions, enchanted armaments, chants, scripts, etc. Each tool has its own advantages and disadvantages and play into a Witches’ style. Every Witch has at least two methods of spellcasting. Only children have one. Haven’t thought of how Luz gets her Palisman though. Maybe its one of those magic Artifacts like Dr. Strange’s cloak, Elder Wand, Thor’s hammer, or a Green Lantern’s Ring. Something that can’t be recreated because the secret is lost, materials no longer exist, too hard/dangerous to make, accident that can’t be recreated, etc. Happens more often than people like.

Camilla is sometimes called the Blue Witch. She’s a healer by heart and trade, but push her and she will become a one Witch Battleship. Bismark who? Aaaaand she just deleted a whole battalion. And the fortress behind them. Hide me. There are the very rare occasions, like count on one hand rare, when someone near and dear to her heart is in trouble that she takes up her other job. She’s especially terrifying when she decides to torture, those who know how to heal the body know best how to break it. Many shades of Blue, some are very close to Black. She doesn’t necessarily hate Humans exactly, but doesn’t have the highest of regard from past experiences.

Luz has training and is a proficient Witch for her age. Camilla and her father were adamant about having a general knowledge/skillset alongside her specialized skill. Jack of all trades and a master of none, still better than a master of one. She has gone through the system for her magic with varying success. Oracle magic? Zero talent. Bard classes? She can play an instrument, but can’t sing at the same time. When she does sing she tires too hard and messes up. It’s only when she doesn’t try, like absently singing along with a song or playing by her heart, that she’s good at it. Beasts? Can use them, but would rather play with them. Bleeding heart and all that. She does have a good handle on healing magic partly due to Camilla drilling necessary skills into her and partly osmosis. Her father arranged for some CQC lessons from an old friend of his which the girl loved. You get the idea. It wasn’t until she discovered Glyphs that she found her niche and her skills took off. Glyphs are one of those ‘eccentric’ or 'archaic’ styles since they haven’t been used in so long after being lost and are barely understood. She still has a long way to go, but she is on her way.

Luz never really had much in the way of friends, partly cuz of high profile parents which leads to certain pressures and a target on her head, partly because of her magic style and personality, and partly because of the trouble been going on. Luz grew up her whole life with this tension of a group of anarchists trying to burn society that’s just trying to do the right thing. The anarchists started small, but have been a growing problem the past few decades with talk how to 'reshape the world’ in not a good way. Anyone with critical thinking skills can tell this is a bad idea, but they are too brainwashed to notice. They harass anyone who doesn’t follow their rhetoric and attack anyone who even questions them. Luz’s parents put a real kink in a lot of their plans for years, which makes Luz guilty by association. 

Luz got caught in one of those sudden larger scuffles and was accidentally chucked/blown through a portal created by an attempted tactical retreat that went off course. Hence why she can’t go home because she hasn’t learned how to do portals yet. Those are high level anyway so how did these guys pull it off so easily? Luz has a hard time blending in obviously. Learning how to use a phone was a fun endeavor. Internet was a trip. Luz is amazed how these people can do all this cool stuff without magic. Keep a low profile sure, she can pass off as a weird out of town kid. Keep the beanie on, underperform in gym and stuff because some things don’t change, like genetics. Someone sharp eyed will see discrepancies. The Beanie has a small Glamor spell built in that covers her witchy traits but she forgot the ears which is why it sits like it does. Luz can erase memories in case she has an accident, but it’s less of a 'remove my face from this picture with a scalpel’, and more of a 'lemme just hack off the past hour or three from your brain with an axe.’ If she tries to take any more then she starts burning into some more dangerous territory and those Wiped are groggy and disoriented for a while after already. Then the magic attacks start happening and her heroic instinct/anti-bystander complex kicks in and there goes that. It runs in the family so Camilla isn’t surprised in the slightest when she finds out.

“Oh titan, why did you curse me with another me?” “I’m right here Mami!”

Eda has a shack very akin to Grunkle Stan. Lots of junk that Lilith can’t believe that people are dumb enough to buy. She’s also involved in some not so legal dealings on the side. Well, Eda isn’t actually hurting anybody and the tax dollars she should be paying would only go towards some politicians’ next yacht or another pointless overseas 'investment’ instead of where it’s supposed to go so. Eda does give some good intel on occasion and a place to vent so Lillith overlooks her. Lil’s more of the secret police for witches and a petty crook isn’t part of her job anyway. Eda understands Luz’s predicament and is willing to help. The cover story is that Camilla work in hospitals and has to work crazy hours while her dad passed away so is living with Eda for a while. King is that kind of critter that grew up weird and acts like ten different animals all the time.

Gus is the nerdy kid who infodumps on everybody, even if they’re not listening. Loves anything fantasy/sci-fi related and plays Minecraft too. A good kid at heart, but needs some social skills. Keep him away from anything more sugary than tea. Luz learned a lot listening to him. Not all of it is entirely useful, but still. Some of his ramblings give her some good ideas for magic and stuff, like putting Glyphs on cards.

The Blights are the cool rich kids obviously, and have some discipline and social issues. Big family name makes them intimidating for normies and a meal ticket for the unsavory. These kids need real friends. They decided to act out to get some attention from the parents who then decided to ignore them. “If you’re going to act like a child tantrum, get treated like one.” Ed is perfect for Drama classes, if he were allowed to partake. Can’t decide what Em is great at, hacking perhaps? Amity’s car is an inheritance from the only family to treat her as such Twins aside, even if she’s too young to remember it. She only remembers that she has feelings surrounding the car. All three of them were pretty impressed with Luz for standing up to them, calling them out on their shit, and not giving a crap about their family name. Being treated like a normal person is pretty weird. Can we get her to do that again?

Amity tried dating Boscha once, didn’t work out very well. Boscha is still hurting over Amity’s comment of “I’d rather go date the new weird kid (Luz) than go back to you.” It’s one of the reasons she goes after Luz. She has that kind of Bud personality from Spider Man, feels lesser and so acts out so much. 

“Wow, this new Witch is amazing. Not as cool as the original Witch.”

“What is it with the Witch with you?”

“Oh, she’s a hero. Looks out for the city and the little guy. She inspires me. Makes me want to be a bigger person. *sees Luz* What’s up Luz-er?”

~

And that’s what I got right now. I know there was more, but it’s lost to the void right now. Might come back later, maybe not. Lemme know what you think.

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

DAMN you weren’t lying when you said you had an info-dump this is *chefs kiss* you got me intrigued now

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 8 -- Aftershocks

Word Count: 13482

READ ON AO3

Margaret’s quarters had to be one of the most glamourous in the entire manor. Designed to be a duplex, it consisted of two different spacesーthree, if you count the bathroomーthe lower floor held the living room, and the higher one was where the Council member’s actual bedroom was. 

The living room resembled that of a wealthy family’s. A deep red velvet hue gave a touch of colour to the walls, which were decorated by several portraits revealing pieces of contemporary art. Now, Sam loved going to museums and culture in general, but she couldn’t identify what the artists had tried to portray to save her life. When asking about the meaning of one of the paintings, Margaret once told her it was an allegory to the passage of time. How could a smear of red, a blue smudge, and a black, straight line mean any of that she had no idea.

Questionable taste in decor aside, Margaret’s quarters also consisted of a parquet flooring that always seemed to have been recently varnished, so shiny and clean one could eat from it. Just from a small glimpse at her room, one could guess the older witch had a weakness for rococo furniture; a set of golden couches and chairs with cream upholstery was scattered around the place. A backless seat was in front of the piano at the far corner of the room, a loveseat could be seen located under a particularly large painting, Sam and Margaret were both seated, one in front of the other, on two chairs…

Ironically for someone as elegant and graceful as Margaret, all her plants were made of plastic. Grandma Ida had once told her in confidence the clan’s best spellcaster was also the worst gardener she’d ever seen. According to her grandma, when Margaret was still just a witch in training her teachers ended up forbidding her from getting near to their supplies of mandrake; she always killed them all and the plant was very difficult to find. 

At the far corner of the room, to the side of the piano, a white staircase with a golden banister led to the Council member’s room. What secrets her bedroom held, however, Sam didn’t know. Margaret was very particular about who she let in on her personal life, and bedrooms were extremely personal. 

Which was enough of a hint to understand she hadn’t been called just to chat and have some tea with her. “Your Majesty,” Margaret broke her out of her musings and from inspecting her personal chambers, “I understand you already know why I have summoned you here, correct?”

Even when she was about to scold her, the older witch always looked like the epitome of grace and dignity. They were currently seated on two of her rococo chairs, which Sam had to admit, were pretty but not necessarily comfortable; a coffee table with a porcelain tea set alongside different types of biscuits, scones (a favourite of Margaret since she spent some time abroad in London in her youth), and sandwiches were in full display in between the two. 

Knowing how seriously Margaret took table manners, Sam put her teacup on its respective plate before delicately placing both down on the coffee table. “I have an inkling as to why that might be.”

The African-American woman’s perfect posture never faltered. “In that case, I will get straight to the point: sending Miss Baker and Miss Zhou back home while you were left alone with the Ghost King was unbelievably unwise.”

Sam couldn’t help but wince when Margaret’s forest green eyes laid on her, an icy quality to them. “I understand your concern, Margaret, believe me, I do, but…”

“‘But?’” Margaret cut her off, raising an eyebrow as her cup of tea was halfway to her mouth. “Your Majesty, in case you forgot, you are our queen. Amity Park clan’s leader. Dozens of women depend on you for guidance. Your sole presence keeps us from going to war over the throne!”

Unable to hear the same things over and over, the young queen turned her head to the side, as if pained by her words. “I know, I know.” She raised a hand to silence her. “Margaret, you needn’t remind me the very reason why I even stepped up to become queen. Keeping the clan from succumbing to chaos and honouring my grandmother are my main motivations for everything I do.”

“You and me both know that, my Queen.” Margaret conceded, stirring her second cup of tea. “But that does not change the fact that what you did was foolish. However, I also know that you never do anything without reason, so I am willing to hear it.”

With a gesture of her hand, she motioned for Sam to explain herself. Sighing, the violet-eyed girl did just that. “I know my life is precious, but the circumstances were dire and even now I can’t shake the feeling that it’s a miracle I’m even alive.”

“Forgive me, your Majesty. But I fail to see how that is helping your case.” The green-eyed woman pointed out. Deep down she knew Sam probably had a good reason for doing what she did, but as second-in-command, it was her duty to ensure their queen never made a mistake like that ever again. 

“I’m getting there, I promise.” Sam hastily said. 

With a nod, Margaret gestured for her to continue. “I don’t feel comfortable putting my safety before others’ just because of my position.” She finished, and even Margaret’s stoic mask cracked a little at the revelation. “Stephanie and Susan were with me, Margaret. They were in as much danger as I was, I couldn’t risk their lives like that.”

“Miss Zhou and Miss Baker both volunteered to escort you to your visits to the Ghost Zone, your Majesty.” Her fellow Council member reminded her in between sips. “Had anything happened to them, they were just doing their job.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing their loyalty would force them to pay such a high price.” 

Margaret was about to take another sip of her tea when Sam’s solemn words made her eyes widen. Looking over at her, she noticed her tense posture, her stiff shoulders, her slim fingers clutching tightly at the fabric of her black and purple plaid skirt...And the resolution in her eyes. The older witch could’ve sworn she saw the same fire that was so characteristic of her grandmother in Sam’s violet gaze. 

Unaware of the reaction she’d caused to the woman in front of her, Sam went on. “I’m the queen, Margaret. It’s my duty to make sure our people are safe. How do you expect me to just leave them behind, not knowing if they’ll even make it alive!? Even if the black hole had been taken care of without my assistance and they would’ve been safe from it, how do we know the ghosts wouldn’t have taken advantage of the chaos to attack them?! 

“Even if I have a feeling King Phantom would’ve tried to protect them, it was still too risky. I would never have been able to live with myself if anything had happened to them because, somehow, my life’s more important than theirs!”

Setting her now cold teacup down, the African-American witch clasped her hands together on her lap. She regarded the young queen with a face that betrayed no emotion. “Your Majesty, you do realise every single one of your points can also be applied to your own situation, right? Just like Miss Baker and Miss Zhou could have been in danger at the hands of the ghosts, so could have you. Except an attempt against your life would be grounds for going to war.”

Knowing she was right, Sam averted her gaze to the side. Suddenly that one painting with the impossible-to-understand analogy on the passage of time seemed much more interesting than ten minutes ago. 

Margaret sighed as she stood up. Her high heels clicking against the parquet, she hovered over Sam, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Samantha, I know choosing what is best for our people is hard, especially if it comes into conflict with our personal beliefs and desires, but duty must come first.”

The young sorceress started at the sound of her full name. She really hated being called ‘Samantha’, but knew that was the most personal Margaret would ever get with her, so it'd only be rude of her to complain. “I know,” she sighed dejectedly. “I know, it’s just...I can’t just do that to them! Susan is still just a teenager; no matter how good of a potion-maker and warrior she is, she’s still too young. She has so much to live, I can’t afford to make her miss out on all that for my sake…”

“But what about Miss Baker? I believe you two are the same age; you both still have so much to live, as well.”

“You mean Stephanie still has so much to live for. I gave up on that a long time ago…” Sam couldn’t resist the urge to scoff. 

Even if all witches had to make compromises to balance their lives inside and outside of the coven, Sam’s entire life had revolved around giving up on one passion after the other. Growing up she couldn’t make friends because other girls weren’t allowed to go near the queen’s granddaughter. Her world was reduced to the manor and her house, to her family and her teachers, to her lessons and the very scarce moments where she could pretend she was a kid like any other. After her grandma died, under the threat of her coven falling into anarchy until they found a new leader, she sacrificed her one chance at a relatively normal life in exchange of being elected the future queen. For four years her extensive studying and isolation were self-imposed; the only times she allowed herself to take a break where her birthday ーso her dad wouldn’t get suspicious as to what was so important she couldn’t celebrate her own birthdayーand the anniversary of her grandma’s death; because there was no way she’d ever have the energy to work on the most painful day of the year. And now that she was queen, every waking moment was dedicated to looking after her people.

Stephanie was just a shy girl who loved books. Between the two of them, she was the only one who really had a chance at experiencing life outside of the manor’s walls. And Sam refused to be the reason why she lost that chance. 

Understanding dawning on her, Margaret’s face softened. “Your motives were noble, my Queen, and I am sure the Baker and Zhou families are extremely grateful for having their children returned to them. Just try to keep in mind that with great power comes great responsibility, and more often than not, that means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

As the spellcaster went back to her chair, Sam could only stare after her like she’d just nonchalantly revealed the meaning of life to her. “...did you just quote Spider-Man?”

Picking her teacup back up, she just chuckled in amusement. “I am a woman of culture, your Majesty. Now, pour yourself another cup of tea or help yourself to some snacks, before it gets cold.”

Reaching over for the kettle to pour some more tea on her cup at the same time as she started munching on a vegetarian sandwich, a comfortable silence settled between them. The only sounds disturbing the quiet atmosphere were the occasional sound of sipping and of plates clattering. In the midst of the silence, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but race back to the moment right after Phantom stopped the blackhole. 

She wasn’t lying when she told Margaret she believed he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Susan and Stephanie, for her own protection seemed to be one of his top priorities. That and their last interaction before she returned to Earth had been replaying inside her head over the last several hours. 

As she and Phantom stared at each other, unbeknownst to them, both thinking that they could indeed make things work as long as they worked together, Sam’s mind unexpectedly wandered to uncharted territory. Now that she was looking at him up close, a part of her had to agree with all the fangirls who’d squeal every time Phantom appeared on TV; he was quite handsome. 

It was undeniable that the Ghost King’s defined physique was anything but hard on the eyes. She didn’t know what it was, but something about himーmaybe the inches he had on her, or maybe the way he’d pressed her close to his chest earlier when he was trying to put her to safety, or maybe the intensity of his neon green eyesーmade her feel safe. 

Now that they weren’t separated by a large table and a few feets of distance, Sam could appreciate his chiseled jaw and how his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he gulped, sending a heatwave straight to her very core. His intoxicating eyes no longer looked at her with suspicion and disdain, but with gratefulness and with a candour whose origins she couldn’t quite identify, and at that very moment she was sure nothing would’ve been able to get her to tear her own violet gaze away from them. His shock-white hair alongside his characteristically ghostly glowーthat glow she used to interpret as a warning sign; a reminder of his true natureーall of a sudden made him look ethereal, otherworldly. Like a guardian from beyond sent to protect everyone from evil. Like...Like…

Like an angel.

And his lips...Oh, God. They were so inviting. The mere thought of kissing those lips was incredibly exhilarating. From where she stood, Sam could already imagine his lips on hers, coming together in a slow, passionate dance; their touch so rough and yet so gentle; both breathing her to life and leaving her breathless; and the way he was moving them at that very moment only helped in further cementing her beliefsーwait a minute. They were moving?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” Sam exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, shaking her hands before her and already feeling the scorching heat on her cheeks. She barely resisted the urge to facepalm herself. What was she thinking?! Drooling over Phantom? Fantasising with kissing him?! Did she lose her mind?! Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she originally believedーshe was still debating on itーbut he was still a ghost. And ghosts and witches didn’t mix, especially like that. Hell, not even when they were still allies did a ghost and a witch ever end up together!

Noticing the Ghost King staring at her quizzically, the witch cleared her throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly. 

Phantom’s eyes shot open at that. “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Sam told him, missing the way his eyes softened at her words. She put a little distance between the two, ready to cast the spell that would send her home, when Phantom’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of herself, the young witch couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

The relieved expression he sent her way sent her heart aflutter. Feeling the blush coming back, she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!” Again, she was getting ready to leave when Phantom’s voice stopped her.

“Wait, Lady Arcana!”

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

Against her better judgement, Sam’s expression softened. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

She could almost feel how every individual cell in her body separated before being rearranged again. The tingling sensation was similar to when she’d phased through Phantom’s lair, except it was warm rather than chilly. Spellcasting felt like being cocooned in a thousand blankets inside your home during a particularly cold winter night, while the sensation brought by ghost powers was akin to sticking your head into the freezer when it was 104 º outside. 

Both experiences were incredibly pleasant, albeit drastically different from one another.

When Sam opened her eyes, everything was mayhem. 

She’d arrived in the middle of the Grand Hall inside 917 Maplestreet, and every single witch present was looking straight at her. Judging from their positionsーsome had risen from their seats, their hands slamming the tables; others had their arms raised as if making suggestions or waiting for their turns to speak up; a few were arguing amongst themselves…ー, she’d just interrupted a council meeting. Most likely to discuss her current situation. 

Oh, great. 

“Your Majesty!” A voice cried out, and Sam almost fell back upon impact, for someone had slammed into her chest with great force, almost knocking the wind out of her. 

Looking down, she realised the iron grip she suddenly found herself in belonged to none other than Susan. The poor thing was sobbing and hiccuping uncontrollably against her chest. Automatically, Sam put her own arms around her in an attempt to sooth her. With how fierce and disciplined she usually was, it was easy to forget she was, technically, still a kid. She had much to learn before she became completely desensitised to the world’s horrors. 

“It’s fine, Susan.” The queen soothed, caressing her hair. “I’m fine.”

Right at that moment, the room erupted in a row of applause and cheering, alongside many questions directed her way. Before Sam could so much as tell them to speak one at a time, she felt something being discreetly slipped under her dress. Turning her head to the side in surprise, she found herself face to face with Stephanie. “Welcome home, your Majesty. I am so glad you have returned.”

When the strawberry blonde winked at her, Sam understood everything. Steph had taken advantage of the current chaos, and of her tied up skirt, to return Arcana’s Grimoire to her. Sam couldn’t help but smile; she was worth much more than people often gave her credit for. 

Paulina and Star almost tripped over themselves trying to reach her. Rushing to her side, both simultaneously looking panicked and relieved beyond belief, the moment they reached her side they started fussing about her personal care, promising to prepare a warm bubble bath immediately.

“Your Majesty!” Paulina exclaimed in between pants, “You have no idea how glad we are that you’re back!”

“Totally,” Star agreed beside her friend, nodding but equally winded. “One minute Pauli was trash-talking Ms. Gorilla, and the next news reached us that you hadn’t returned from the Ghost Zone!”

“I’m sorry,” a sultry voice from behind startled them, while Sam shook her head in pity, anticipating what was to come, “you were doing what?” Delilah asked the two ladies-in-waiting sharply, her unforgiving eyes narrowed on them.

The Witch Queen could only roll her eyes knowingly at the way Paulina and Star flinched upon noticing the shapeshifter heard them. ‘Ms. Gorilla’, as Star helpfully supplied when they were assigned to her upon becoming the clan leader, was a moniker Paulina had come up with at the height of her jealousy towards the stunning Council member. Sam, despite her love for animals and nature, hadn’t noticed until they pointed it out, but Delilah shared her name with the famous Purple Back Gorilla that was discovered to be female by a high school student working on extra credit back when she was fourteen. 

The thing is, as good-natured and laid-back as Delilah could be, she did not appreciate being compared to such a majestic creature. “I’m waiting, Miss Anderson. What did you say you were doing before you heard the news?”

From where she stood, still being held by Susan’s iron grip, Sam could see how Star was beginning to sweat. The blonde usually didn’t have trouble saying what she thought of others, even if it was mean-spirited or uncalled for, but even she knew it was foolish to anger another witch, especially when her position was much higher than hers. 

Squirming under the shapeshifter’s harsh glare, the handmaiden couldn’t do anything but stutter. “Uh...um...w-well...we...we were…and the...the gorilla...b-but then...” She trailed off, luckily for her, Paulina chose that very moment to jump in on the conversation. 

“We were just talking about the new gorilla-inspired fashion collection!” The Latina lied and, if you listened closely, you could hear the way her already pronounced accent thickened. Paulina was a good liar, but even she sometimes had trouble working under pressure. “It’s absolutely fabulous! Almost as much as your blouse,” she complimented as she reached out to touch the fabric, “Is it new?”

Unamused, Delilah decided against pushing the issue...for now. Gently swatting the Latina’s hand away from her clothes, she directed a much kinder expression towards Sam. “It’s good to have you back, my Queen. We were worried sick for your safety.”

The violet-eyed queen smiled in return. “It’s good to be back.”

Suddenly, an imposing voice made itself heard from the other side of the room. Heads snapping to the origin of the sound, everyone’s eyes landed on Margaret standing with her hands behind her back by the entrance. She looked as poised and collected as usual.

Somehow, Sam knew she was in for a world of trouble. 

“Your Majesty,” Margaret began, and her voice commanded such respect a pin drop could be heard in the middle of the previously loud room, “you have no idea how grateful we are for your safe return. If what Miss Zhou and Miss Baker told us is true,” both witches at her side sent their queen an apologetic look, “then you must be exhausted. Please, after you’re well-rested, come tomorrow to my personal chambers.” She ordered, because she didn’t even ask for an answer, before turning away. Just as she was about to leave the room, she called out over her shoulder, “We have much to discuss.”

Oh, yeah. She was indubitably, thoroughly screwed. 

Her instincts were proven correct the moment she was given the third degree by the woman in front of her. As she pondered Margaret’s previous words, however, a question materialised itself inside Sam’s mind. 

Furrowing her brow, she called out to her fellow Council member. “Margaret?”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“You said we more often than not have to make sacrifices in the name of the greater good, even if it goes against our personal beliefs and desires…” she started carefully, looking down at her cup. “Have you ever had to sacrifice something you cared deeply about or wanted desperately for the sake of the coven?”

For a moment, the silence had returned, only it now hung heavily over them, when just a few minutes it’d been comfortable. After a few minutes had passed and she still received no answer, Sam was about to ask again when Margaret finally answered. “Yes, I have.”

Her head shooting at her uncharacteristically lifeless voice, Sam almost gasped. Before her, Margaret wore the saddest expression she’d ever seen of her face. Her deep, green eyes, usually so vibrant and full of colour, were now bleak and devastated, reminiscent of a forest after a wildfire. The otherwise calm and collected Council member now looked heartbroken and desolate, like a piece of her was missing. Margaret certainly wasn’t crying, but she seemed so miserable Sam could feel tears of her own stinging her eyes. 

“I...I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh...right! O-of course. Don’t worry.” The lavender-eyed witch hastily said, too shell shocked to be more eloquent. Margaret never used contractions when talking to her. 

Margaret acknowledged her with a respectful nod of her head. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Then she went back to drinking her tea. 

Deciding it’d be best to imitate her and pretend nothing had happened, Sam couldn't help but wonder what might’ve happened to Margaret to make her so miserable. But above all else, she could only hope she’d never have to sacrifice the same thing. Somehow, she had a feeling death would be less painful.

...........

The forest in the outskirts of Amity Park could be described as anything but a walk in the park. The tree trunks knotted and twisted, forming shapes made out of the stuff of nightmares. The wind rustling the leaves sounded like a ghostly wail, not unlike Danny’s, albeit much quieter. That only made it more sinister. And the sound of twigs, dead leaves, and fallen tree branches crunching beneath had him frantically looking around for the slightest sign of danger. Since it was mid-October, nearing Halloween, the weather was beginning to change as well. For instance, temperatures were starting to drop from the cool yet warm ones that reigned during late September, and the first fall rainstorm hit the town just the night before.

And since it’d just rained the night before, that meant Tucker was now stepping on mud. He was stepping on mud with his new boots on. He was stepping on mud and getting his new boots that cost him a fortune, mind you, dirty. Already irritated and spooked beyond belief, he called out to the person walking in front of him, “Care to remind me why the fuck I didn’t turn you down on your invitation to, and I quote, ‘a fun fieldtrip?’”

Stopping momentarily to look over her shoulder, Jazz scolded him, “Language.” With that out of the way, she turned her head back around and kept on walking through the forest. “And to answer your question, you agreed to come with me because you want to help Danny as much as I do.” 

Tucker rolled his eyes, taking advantage of her back, turned to him, and followed her close behind. “Yeah, that I know. What I mean to say is, how is hiking aimlessly around the woods going to do anything to help Danny?!”

They’d been trekking around that damned forest for three hours, with absolutely nothing to guide them but an old, probably outdated, map some ranger had given to Jazz back at the information booth. Three hours wandering around a forest that was creepier than Mr. Lancer’s ‘sculptured summer physique’ back in summer camp, and the most resting they’d done was when Jazz would suddenly halt to check the map or crouch down to get some samples. 

Just like she was doing at that very moment. “Look at this, Tucker. Ocimum basilicum!” She reached her hand out to show it to him before putting it inside a little glass jar. She brought the jar close to her face. “Did you know in Christianity this plant is said to have sprouted when Jesus’ blood fell to the ground?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” The technopath said, unimpressed. “What I do know is that Ocimum basilicum and basil are the exact same thing! Care to tell me why you’re so transfixed on a mere spice? As much as I love myself a good pizza, even I have to admit this is just ridiculous.”

Sliding her backpack across her shoulder, the redhead put away the basil. With that taken care of, she sent her friend a bored look, standing up from the floor and coming to stand beside him. “It’s important because it’sー.”

“‘It’s going to help Danny.’” Tucker finished for her, doing a poor impression of her voice. “You said that over a million times already! Can you at least tell me how it’s going to help Danny?”

Jazz looked away, sulking. “Because...because it just is, okay?! Trust me, Tucker, I know what I’m doing.”

But the African American young man wasn’t buying it. That answer was far too childish, especially coming from someone like Jazz, who’d been acting like someone twice her age for almost as long as he could remember. Something was definitely off. 

“But what could it be?” He asked himself as they resumed their march. She said she knew what she was doing, and that was all great and dandy, except he had no idea what they were doing! He was the technician of the team, his specialty were computers, viruses, and thwarting technology-dependent ghosts’ plans! He was not made to hike, looking for God knows what, in the middle of a forest! 

And Jazz?! He barely held back a scoff. No matter how much more physically adept than him she was, the eldest Fenton was no field agent, either. For years, her way of assisting Danny in ghost-hunting had been through research, bringing back-up,helping work out the tricky details in their plans, now she was obsessed with finding out more about the witches…

Wait a minute. 

Tucker stopped dead in his tracks, fists curled at his sides and a very angry glare directed at the back of the head of his best friend’s older sister appeared on his face. “You dragged me here to help you research witches and avoid Danny’s wrath.”

It wasn’t a question and she knew it. Wincing at the, accurate, accusation, the redhead turned around slowly. “I...I have no idea what you’re talking about…” She tried playing dumb. 

In an instant, Tucker got in her face, wagging a chastising finger at her. “Oh, don’t you dare play innocent, little missy! You might have been able to fool your parents all these years, but that’s only because they’re surprisingly gullible. You can’t fool me; we’re here to research witches aren’t we?”

Looking down on the floor, Jazz ultimately gave in, sighing. “Yes, we are.”

“And I’m guessing Danny knows nothing about this which is why; first, you went out of your way to organise this on my free day, which, for the record, also happens to be the day Danny’s schedule is packed; second, you wouldn’t tell me why we’re here; and third, you’re just picking random things up, because not even you know what you’re looking for.” 

She bit her lip, knowing she’d been caught. She always forgot how observant Tucker could be. “Maybe?”

“Jazz!” 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?!” She snapped. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you or Danny, but I just can’t sit idly by and watch as he enters the lion’s den, completely unprepared!” She stepped closer to Tucker, looking him dead in the eye. “You know Danny, Tucker. He shoulders everything and refuses to let us help. Please, you have to understand; I have to help my little brother.”

Looking down at her pleading eyes, the techno geek’s own teal orbs softened. He did understand. He really wished Danny would let them help more often. It was just painful watching him come back looking like death, knowing he’d been sticking his neck out for a town that didn’t always appreciate him, and not being able to do much because even then he was protecting them. 

It was maddening, really. 

Sighing, he grabbed Jazz by her shoulders, trying to show her just how much he understood her plight. “Listen, I know how you feel. You know I know how you feel. But we gotta make sure us going behind Danny’s back will really be for his own good. We can’t just wander aimlessly with no real plan in mind! Never mind how good our intentions are.” Seeing as she only stared at him, unblinkingly, he sighed and let her go. “Face it, Jazz. We’re about as lost as Danny when it comes to witches.”

He was sure what he said would be discouraging, hence why he didn’t understand the way her eyes lit up. “That’s where you’re wrong!” She exclaimed just as she started rummaging through her backpack. After a few seconds, she pulled a book out. “This is a book on plants, arthropods, and other ingredients traditionally used by witches in folklore. If we find a place where many of said ingredients grow or inhabit, we might know where to find them!”

“Right…” he drawled, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to keep Jazz from her goal. “Because there’s no way a group of women from the 21st century have learned to grow or breed those things from the comfort of their homes.” He deadpanned in response. “Is that why we’re here? To look for a bunch of plants and insects?”

Her right hand still clutching the book close to her chest, the other hand fisted on her hip, Jazz sent him an irritated look. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking the witches’ lair could actually be around here.”

Tucker’s brows shot up at that. “What makes you think that?”

“Because it’s tradition!” She exclaimed, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and shoving it in his face. “Did you know Baba Yaga was said to inhabit the Russian forests?”

Glaring at her, he carefully got her phone out of his face. “Yeah...She was also said to be an old hag, with a blue nose, and a bone leg. Pretty sure the Witch Queen Danny meets up with is supposed to be quite the looker. So, try something else.”

Jazz pouted, before trying to come up with a theory that would please him. “Well, what if there are Russian witches in Amity Park? Maybe they stayed true to tradition, taking advantage of the locals’ ignorance to remain inconspicuous.”

“Nice theory,” he clapped sarcastically, “only one tiny, itsy, bitsy detail, though. I doubt the Cold War made it easy for Russian witches to move to the USA. Instead of putting them up to trial for being witches, they’d have been accused of being spies.”

She was beginning to get frustrated with Tucker’s lack of cooperation. Groaning, she snapped. “What do you suggest we do, then?!”

“How about get back to civilisation and forget all about this silly quest, huh?!” He snapped back, dramatically flailing his arms in the air in exasperation. Seriously, were all Fentons supposed to be stubborn to the point of idiocy? Didn’t they understand some things weren’t worth falling-outs and even their lives? He loved that family to death, but if he was going to die for them, he at least would like it to be because of something useful. 

Jazz just kept staring back at him, frowning in annoyance, before turning away from him in a huff. Tucker was about to call her out on her behaviour when she beat him to it. “I know I’m being difficult. I know I’m looking for things that aren’t there, but I just need to help Danny!” She whirled back around to look him in the eye, desperation clearly laced in her voice. “Please, Tucker. You have to understand.”

“Uh, no. Not that! Anything but that!” He cried, frantically covering his eyes with his hands. She was pleading, giving him the trademark Fenton, sad, puppy-dog look. The damned thing was so effective he was genuinely surprised it didn’t count as a persuasion technique. Peeking through his fingers, he chanced to look, only to close his eyes shut not long after. Nope, she was still doing that look. 

With a dismayed moan, he gave in after a while. “Fiiiiiine!” He groaned, only to subsequently send a glare at Jazz’s direction when he saw her fist-bumping from the corner of his eye. He quickly squared his posture, jabbing his finger against her chest. “But if Danny busts us, you’re explaining things to him!”

He so hated the way she was beaming at him, completely ignoring his threat. “No problem!” She then slapped his hand away, causing him to let out a sound of complaint. The grin had been replaced by an irritated frown. “If you ever touch my chest again, though, I’m going to blast you with the Fenton Ghost Peeler until your skin falls off and only your non-existent muscles remain.”

“Hey!” He began to protest against her comment, only to back-pedal when she sent him a withering glare in warning. “No touching your chest ever again. Got it.” He smiled sheepishly at her. When that seemed to please her, she turned her focus on her book, prompting Tucker to ask. “So, what now?”

“Now we look for evidence that proves the witches of Amity Park visit this place.” She replied, not looking up from her book. 

“No, I got that. I mean how are we going to do that?”

“Well, if witches really do need certain ingredients for their spells and potions, then I’d suggest we look for things that could possibly grow around here.” Jazz kept reading the paragraphs detailed in her book, turning pages at the speed of lightning. Stopping at a certain page, she tapped her chin with one finger as she pondered their options before showing the book to Tucker. “Do you think we could find some newts around here? They’re said to have been highly demanded as an ingredient for their eyes.”

Taking a look at the slimy creature pictured in the book, the techno geek recoiled in disgust. He couldn’t hold back a shudder before regaining his composure. “First of all,” he lifted his index finger in the air, “the closest lake in the area is Lake Eerie, a good three hours away from here. So I highly doubt we’ll be finding any newts any time soon.” He fiddled with his PDA before showing it to her, a map appearing on the screen. “And second, even if there were any lakes around here, there’s no way I’m gonna touch an amphibian. I’m a techno geek, not a biology geek. If you want help collecting those little guys, you’re going to have to ask Sam for help.”

That perked the redhead’s interest. “You mean the Manson heiress?” She asked, not missing a beat. Even if the topic of conversation had changed greatly, her focus was still on her book. If newts weren’t an option, something else had to be. She just had to find it. “Is it me, or is there something going on between her and Danny?”

Not one to resist some good gossip, especially when it was related to Danny’s love life, Tucker leaned in closer to Jazz, as if he were about to share a conspiratorial theory with her. “Oh, something is definitely going on. I haven’t seen Danny act so comfortably yet bashful around a girl since Valerie. As for Sam, let’s just say I don’t usually see her with other guys. Period. As a matter of fact…” Eyes snapping open, he trailed off. What Jazz had said about Sam finally catching up to him. 

The psychology understudy looked over at him in concern. Unlike her friend, she wasn’t one to gossip, but her little brother’s mental health and social life was something she cared deeply about. Moreso because the two aspects tended to go hand in hand. “Uh, Tucker? Is everything okay?”

“What did you just say?” He practically mumbled in a voice so low Jazz had to strain her ears to hear him. 

“Um,” she stammered, “I said, ‘is everything okay?’”

“No, no.” The African American man shook his head and hands, indicating that wasn’t what he meant. “Before that.”

“I literally said ‘uh, Tucker.’” She repeated, looking at him like he’d grown a second head or something. Did a branch fall on his head while they were hiking and she hadn’t noticed?

Oh, for the love of God...This was getting ridiculous! Did he have to spell it out for her? Scrubbing his face with one hand, growing frustrated, he tried one last time. “No, Jazz.” He gritted out as gently as possible. “I’m asking what you called Sam earlier.”

“You mean when I said ‘the Manson heiress?’” She raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Yes, that!” He exclaimed, before returning Jazz’s confused expression with one of his own. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really don’t know?” She asked in disbelief. Considering that, no, he really had no idea what she was even talking about, the technophile could only shake his head and wait for answers. “Oh! Wow...So turns out Danny isn’t the only person in Amity Park who doesn’t know!” She meant to mutter that part to herself, but her disbelief was so great she forgot to lower her voice, causing Tucker to hear her just fine. 

He didn’t know why, but the moment the Fenton girl’s aqua eyes landed on him, Tucker couldn’t help but feel he was being regarded with pity. The fact that she nervously rubbed her arm holding the book up and down while avoiding his gaze didn’t help matters any. “Um, you see...You know Sam’s name, right?”

That made him furrow his brow, not quite following. “Obviously,” he scoffed. “Her name’s Sam Manson. But how come her ID makes her an heiress?!”

“Because she’s not just a Manson,” Jazz corrected him gently, “she’s the only child of the Mansons.”

“Are you saying she’s related to that psycho serial killer?” He squeaked, rightfully freaked out. Deep down, however, he knew that couldn’t be right. Sure, Sam had a spooky taste in...everything, really. But she would never hurtーno, wait a minute. She could definitely inflict pain on others through elaborate and well-thought schemes. But she just couldn’t be related to a serial killer!

...or could she?

“What?!” The redhead gasped. “No, of course not! I’m saying she’s related to the Manson family,” when he was about to comment further, she stopped him with a raised hand, “as in, the descendants of Izzy Manson,” she stressed, annoyed; “the creator of the cellophane-wrapping machine used for chopsticks.”

Growing frustrated at Tucker’s blank face, she made an indecipherable sound at the back of her throat before snapping. “Darn it, Tucker! Rich, I’m saying she’s filthy, stinking rich!” She rolled her eyes when the techno geek’s jaw almost touched the floor. “Gosh! I swear, you’re even more hopeless than Danny!”

“Wait a minute, Sam is rich?!” He all but screeched. “How come she never told me?!”

Feeling sorry for him, she could only shrug in response, her previous aggravation gone. Honestly, she’d only met the girl once, and not even a prodigy like her would’ve been able to determine her thought process with just one session. “I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I’m a bit more surprised you never figured it out.”

That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” she crossed her arms. How could she put this gently? “I mean, you’ve known her for a while, haven’t you?” Slowly, he nodded. “And you’re way more into the wealthy and powerful than Danny, and, come on, Sam’s an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian Goth.” She sent him a pointed look. “Goth clothing and vegetarian food aren’t cheap, you know.”

Tucker could only grimace, knowing she had a point. “I know who the Mansons are, but I’ve never seen Sam in any of the pictures taken of her family’s sophisticated parties. And, really, would you seriously take a look at her parents and go, ‘Yep, no doubt. These preppy, cheerful folks are definitely related to cynical, brooding Sam Manson.’” He defended himself, and judging by Jazz’s expression, he knew she concurred. Then, he added, almost as an afterthought, “And honestly, I legit thought she basically ate grass and mud, so…”

Sympathising with him, Jazz put a soothing hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly at him. At first he returned the gesture, before furrowing his brow in concentration. Something wasn’t right... “Wait, how do you know any of this? How do you even know Sam?”

“Ah, Danny and I ran into her and her dad last Saturday at that new Vegetarian Mexican restaurant.”

The bespectacled young man couldn’t do much but blink in astonishment. Then, suddenly, he let himself fall to his knees, crouching down before crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. “How can I possibly be that out of the loop?!”

Jazz flashed him a meek smile in response as she lowered herself to his level; literally. The tug in his lips turned into a full blown smirk as a devious thought came to him. “Was there UST between the two?”

The older girl let out a loud cackle at his question. “Oh, you have no idea!”

With a ‘hm’, he settled for a content smile that Jazz knew was only half-hearted. “That’s enough for me...for now.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jazz, trying to joke, but the way she was looking at him made it clear she didn’t buy his attempts to lighten up the mood. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, huh?” She offered softly. “You speak so fondly of her, and she seemed to know you well enough when we talked about you the other day. I’m sure she’ll come clean to you if you let her know you feel hurt over not knowing who she is.”

Normally he hated when Jazz psychoanalysed the situation, more so if it involved him. But now he couldn’t help but feel grateful for having the eldest Fenton’s advice and support. “Yeah, I...I think I’ll do that.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back, “You’re welcome.” The quiet atmosphere soon dissipated when she got back up on her feet as she dusted herself off. “Well, we’d better find something that’ll hint us on the witches’ hideout!”

Getting up from the ground as well, Tucker watched as Jazz pulled out the map from her backpack at the same time as she leafed through her book using just her thumb, that girl’s ability to multitask was both impressive and unnerving. She was clearly searching for a clue to get them started on their quest. Rolling his eyes fondly at her, he started fidgeting with his PDA, looking for clues of his own through the best way he knew; technology. 

Printed books and maps were fine and all, but it didn’t take long for them to become outdated. With the Internet and his trusty PDA, Tucker always had the latest information in the palm of his hand. Literally. As his eyes scanned over dozens of articles from the day before to several decades prior, his eyes landed on one story in particular. 

Gasping, he called out to Jazz. The girl looked up from her own research to see Tucker motioning for her to come closer with his hand. Curious, she did just that. The moment she was within touching distance, he handed the PDA to her. “Look!”

She squinted her eyes on the screen. What appeared  was an old newspaper article, around thirty years old. When she read it over, however, her eyes widened. “Is this what I think it is?” She whispered in disbelief, as she turned to Tucker, who was smirking. 

“You’d better believe it!” Snatching the device from her hands, he began scrolling down and zooming in on certain fragments of the article. “It’s a news segment dedicated to two rangers’ retelling!” He exclaimed, his eyes not once looking away from the screen. “According to them, a few days before the interview with the newspaper, they were patrolling around the woods when they came upon what appeared to be a garden entirely made up of mandrake! Which took them aback because, first, that was a restricted area to the public; and second, mandrake usually grows in Mediterranean weather!

“Since it was getting late, they decided to investigate the following day first thing in the morning. But when they tried getting to the garden, they found they couldn’t. Somehow, whenever they thought they were getting closer, they kept getting lost and further away, something that was odd because they’d both been working as rangers, walking through the woods, for more than twenty years!” He finished, looking far more excited at the prospect of their research than he’d been before. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Her hands clasped in front of her beaming face, Jazz could only nod eagerly. “Mandrake is one of the plants that are most popularly associated with witches and magic, and the rangers kept getting lost because they’d found a patch of mandrake and the witches wanted to keep them away in order to protect their secret!”

“And you said Internet searches were only going to lead us to Satanist sites.” He flashed her a shit-eating grin, feeling proud of himself. 

“Ugh, knock it off!” She playfully shoved him away, before growing serious again. Her joy being replaced by uncertainty. “Just a question, though?”

“What?”

“How are we going to find this mandrake patch? It’s been over thirty years! And if the witches were able to make two seasoned rangers wander aimlessly through the forest, what chances do we have of finding it ourselves?”

Tucker opened his mouth, only to close it again, realising he didn’t have an answer to her question. Yep, that could definitely be a problem. “Well, the rangers didn’t know they were facing off against a group of spellcasting women; we do.” He tried steering the conversation in the right direction. “What do we know about witches?” She was about to speak when he cut her off, “ Aside from the obvious.”

Bringing a fist to her chin, Jazz began to revise everything she’d learned on them ever since Danny shared his latest plan with them. “Hm, Danny said witches used to be able to summon ghosts from the Ghost Zone and make them cross over to Earth. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Hm, it might.” Tucker replied, the gears already turning in his head. “You know how every ghost has its own ecto-signature?”

“Yeah?”

“What if the witches have something like that?” He suggested, his mind already focused on the possibilities. 

Jazz gasped, her eyes widening at the possibility. “Then maybe we could create our own version of the ghost radar, except that instead of ghosts, it’d latched onto a witch’s own signature!” She added, practically bouncing up and down.

“That way, we could lead the radar to someplace with a particularly strong magical signature, and therefore guide us to the mandrake patch without getting lost!” Tucker continued, equally excited. 

“Which would then allow us to track any witch that comes to the garden.” Jazz said.

“And eventually lead us to their hideout!” Tucker finished. The two of them high-fived the other, reeling from the revelation. They were so hyped they almost forgot to address the most important part of the plan.

“So,” Tucker started, slipping his PDA back in his pocket. “What about Danny? Do we tell him about this?”

Against her better judgement, Jazz shook her head. “No. I believe it’d be best if we don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Arguably, this affects him much more than it does us.”

“I know, but we need to give him an edge over the witches. An ace up his sleeve! Something to use as leverage if the queen ultimately turns against him.” She explained. “Telling him of our plan before we even have a clue would only make things more difficult for him.” Noticing Tucker’s unsure expression, she rushed to reassure him. “I promise, the moment we know where they gather, we’ll tell him. Okay?”

Tucker didn’t look convinced. Excluding Danny in something this important just felt wrong! But, on second thought, Jazz was his older sister; she’d been taking care of and protecting him long before she learned about the accident. Jazz was always looking out for her baby brother’s best interests. Sighing, he gave in. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Tucker.” She grinned in appreciation before she looked down at her phone and noticed the time. “Now, come on! We still have to get back before Danny finishes his classes and notices we’re nowhere to be found. We don’t want him to get suspicious, do we?”

As he followed her back through the way they’d come from, Tucker could only hope their decision wouldn't bite them in the ass. 

..........

“Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Because we needed to meet up and the You Mocha Me Crazy was closed today.” Tucker smirked smugly at her from the seat across from her; a mixture of grease and sauce dripping from his fingertips. “My, what a tragedy!” He lamented in mock sadness. 

Her body leaned forward and her elbow propped up on the wobbly table, Sam sent him a nasty look. “Knock it off! You like the café and you know it.” 

The techno geek shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll admit, they make good sandwiches. But nothing can beat my love for the Nasty Burger. It was about time I dragged you here for a change.”

Danny was sure the Goth girl was about to deliver  a very colourful string of words their friend’s way hadn’t he intervened. “Remember, Sam,” he warned,  putting a hand on her shoulder, making her look at him instead, “this is a kid-friendly space.” He took her huffing and crossing her arms over her chest as she slumped on her seat as a victory. “Look on the bright side,” he pointed at the trail of food in front of her, “at least they serve vegetarian menus.”

“It was a pleasant surprise.” She admitted, looking down at the tofu-soy melt she’d been served. “I honestly thought their only options would be a bunch of so-called salads with more meat than lettuce.” Picking the sandwich up, her face wrinkled in disgust when she brought it to her face. Averting her eyes, she promptly set it back down, before sliding the trail away from her. “That being said, that thing’s soggier than a quarterback’s socks after a football game.”

“Then it should be just like you like it!” The techno geek quipped, causing Sam to fling some of his own fries at him in retaliation. Tucker could’ve tried shielding his face from the assault, but that would've meant dropping his burger, leaving him no choice but to become an easy target. “You’re gonna pay for those fries.” He deadpanned, his scowl only deepened when the Goth girl blew him a raspberry in response. 

“I believe it’d be more accurate to say football players’ socks are stiff after a game, giving the poor hygiene of the guys at our high school,” Danny pointed out matter-of-factly, trying to keep the peace between the two, before noticing the possible innuendo thanks to the help of Tucker and Sam’s meaningful looks. “But I get what you mean.” He finished lamely. 

Changing her position so she was looking directly at him, her face leaning on the hand resting on the table, Sam raised an amused eyebrow in his direction. “No offence, Danny, but teenage boys aren’t exactly known for their impeccable hygiene.” With a noncommittal shrug she leaned back against her seat. “There isn’t much of a difference between you guys and pigs; you’re both more voracious than a pack of hyenas and your body odor is arguably stronger than a pig-pen’s stench.” She pinched her nose with her fingers for emphasis, the smirk never leaving her face. 

Both guys seated with her shot her matching glares. “I resent that.” They said in unison, making her laugh. 

“FYI, Sam,” Tucker said between bites of his Mega Meaty Nasty Burger, “Danny and I had to learn the wonders of personal hygiene much sooner than any other guy at our school.” Setting the remainder of his burger down on its trail, his arm resting close to it, he leaned closer to Sam, as if he were about to share a secret. “For all the cruel things the girls said about us behind our backsー”

“Or to our faces.” Danny reminded him with a pained mumble. 

“Or to our faces.” Tucker agreed. “Despite everything, they never, not even once, complained about the way we smelled.” He leaned back against his seat with a triumphant grin, the burger already in his hands. “That’s way more than the jocks ever got.”

“Now that you mention it, Tuck,” the blue-eyed boy started, “I think the closest we ever got to a compliment from the A-list girls was when Paulina, grossed out by Dash trying to flirt with her all sweaty after P.E., screeched, ‘Get away from me! Not even those losers of Foley and Fenton smell nearly as bad as you!’” He mimicked in a very whiny, high-pitched voice. 

While Danny’s imitation got him and Tucker in stitches, it got Sam thinking. Did he say Paulina? She didn’t want to just assume the Paulina she knew was the only one in town, but she couldn’t help but think of her. “Uh, guys?” She waited until they gave her their full attention. “Um, sorry if this is weird, but I just realised I never got around to asking you; which high school did you go to?”

“Casper High.” They replied at the same time. “Why?”

Okay...so they were talking about the Paulina she knew. The Latina wasn’t kidding when she said she used to be the queen bee at Casper High when she and Star studied there, if Danny and Tucker’s retelling, as the lowest end of the food chain, was anything to go by. “Um...no reason, really. I was just curious, that’s all.” Not feeling up to compromising her, for once, plausible answer, she quickly tried changing the subject. “If what you’re telling me is true, though, how come you were such prodigies in the art of not smelling like garbage that’s spent way too much time under the sun?”

“Ghosts.” Tucker replied simply. Panicking, Danny discreetly kicked him in the shins, the only reason his best friend didn’t yelp in pain was the warning glare the raven-haired boy was sending him. He was about to ask him what he wanted when Sam supplied the answer. 

“Ghosts?” She echoed, tilting her head to the side.

Flinching at the realisation of what he’d just said, he immediately tried to cover his slip-up. “Y-yeah! Ghosts!” He vaguely registered Danny rubbing his temple with two fingers from the corner of his eye. “You...you remember Danny’s a Fenton, right?”

“Yeah?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow, while Danny’s head shot up at that, wondering what his best friend was up to. 

“You see,” Tucker said with the same tone of voice a teacher would use when enlightening his students on his subject, “since Danny’s folks are ghost hunters, ever since the spooks started haunting Amity Park, Mr. and Mrs. F. have been a little...say, trigger-happy. So every time they thought a ghost was near, we’d accidentally end up covered in whatever goop they were developing. Hence, why we were always taking showers.”

Catching onto what he’s best friend was up to, Danny was quick to add. “In fact, my sister used to have long, flowing hair, but ended up cutting it to a pixie cut after one too many accidents.”

“That’s...weird as fuck.” Sam said, and for a moment the two men feared she’d seen through them. Until she bobbed one shoulder up and down as she readied herself for round two against her tofu-soy melt. “But I guess it makes sense.”

“It does?” Danny asked, before Tucker’s foot painfully stomping on top of his brought him back to his senses. “I-I mean! Of course it makes sense...well, it shouldn’t, but that’s my family for you!” He made a helpless gesture as he shot her a sheepish grin her way. 

Their antics made her frown in suspicion, “Are you guys okay? You’re acting weird, and that’s saying something.” 

“We’re perfectly fine!” Tucker rushed in to say, at the same time as Danny tried with, “Just tired!” They shared furtive glances at each other when the dissonance registered in their brains. Then they tried again, only for Tucker to squeak, “Just tired!” at the same time as Danny assured, “We’re perfectly fine!”

A little creeped out by what was taking place right in front of her, the girl munched on her sandwich painfully slowly. “Uh huh…” She drawled, not buying it. She swallowed her food before addressing them again, her hazel-eyes strained on the two nervous-looking boys. “So, which one is it? Are you perfectly fine, or are you tired?”

Gulping loudly, Danny chose to speak for the two of them, seeing as their usual ‘bronnection’ was failing them. “Come on, Sam. We obviously mean we’re a little tired, with all our assignments and whatnot, but overall, we’re perfectly fine!” The halfa tried alleviating the tension with a motion of his hand. “That’s just your usual college student life. What’re you gonna do? Right, Tuck?” He elbowed his bespectacled friend, urging for support. 

The African American young man started, “Oh! Um...sure” He stammered at first. “Totally. Nothing going on but your typical college life problems.” He let out an awkward laugh. 

Sam just kept staring at them just as intently as before, her intertwined hands resting on the table. With her eyes narrowed on them like a gangster deciding whether to kill or torture a snitch that’d ratted them out to the cops. The pair of best friends could barely contain the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Finally she shook her head and, for a moment, they were sure she’d made her choice; they were dead. “We definitely can’t come back here. The food’s so bad it’s rotting your brains!” She shook her head in mock concern. “And it’s not like you had many to begin with…”

“Wait a minute!” Tucker protested while Danny let out a relieved sigh, “You leave the Nasty Burger out of this!”

“I just say it as I see it.” Sam countered in a sing-song voice. It was so easy to get a rise out of him, she just couldn’t resist. 

As his two friends started bickering, Danny limited himself to watching them, amused and content to have them in his life. A part of him still couldn’t believe how easily Sam had filled the space he didn’t even know was empty. His whole life he thought Tucker’s companionship was all he neededーexcept for his early high school days when he dreamed of being part of the A-listers, but he’d since wisened up. With ghost-hunting overcomplicating his life, he’d long given up on expanding his social circle outside of his sister and best friend, and serious girlfriends were an all-time no-no, but in just a few meetings, the Goth changed that. 

Her individualism and strong moral compass were the perfect addition to his dry sense of humour and awkwardness, and Tucker’s optimism and desire to do something big. It was like they balanced each other out. Sam’s own sense of justice aligned itself nicely with Danny’s own need to do the right thing and protect others, while she shared the need to stand outーalbeit in different waysーwith Tucker, as opposed to his efforts of blending in. Even their differences were a great addition to their friendship, for they forced them to open their eyes to new possibilities they might have overlooked. 

Danny wished Clockwork would just stop time right at that very moment. There, in the middle of the crowded and not always sanitary Nasty Burger, surrounded by teens complaining about the struggles of high school and underpaid workers, everything was perfect. Being there with Tucker and Sam, watching them bicker and mediating when things threatened to get out of hand, felt like things were as they should have always been. 

They weren’t even there to talk about witches! Somewhere along the way hanging out with Sam just became normal; the right thing to do. And to think not that long ago he didn’t even know she existed…

Watching her bring a hand to the shaved half her face, as if she were about to push away some hair blocking her view only to stop in mid-air and sheepishly put her hand back down on the table when she remembered there was nothing to push awayーmaybe she still wasn’t used to missing half of her raven locksーwarmed his heart. For a moment, she redirected her focus on him, probably sensing his eyes on her, and she flushed prettily, causing heat to creep up on Danny’s own cheeks as a result. 

They immediately averted their eyes and focused on something else; Sam looked back at Tuckerーwho was trying very hard to keep his impish grin off his faceーand Danny found himself looking at the ceiling. He’d never noticed there were pieces of gum up there...

For someone who’d sworn off romance after sophomore year of high school, he was doing a very poor job at steering clear of it. Just like the route his treacherous mind had taken the other day as he locked eyes with Lady Arcana…

The halfa could feel his heart squeezing in his chest just by looking into those heliotrope orbs of hers. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew not even his glowing gaze could compare to them in uniqueness. Regrettably, the usual frostiness he found in them hindered their beauty. But now that she was staring at him with great esteem and, dare he hope, a hint of admiration, it was as if spring had finally arrived and had defrosted her gaze; revealing the field of lilacs hidden underneath. 

The content smile tugging at her lips illuminated her entire visage, accentuating that tantalising beauty he chose to overlook due to the rocky nature of their relationship. In all his years coming back and forth between the Ghost Zone and Amity Park, he was sure he’d never met anyone who represented the beauty of both worlds quite like she did; and he was a halfa! 

Her amethyst eyes and her paranormal nature made her stand out even in a dimension populated by powerful entities, each possessor of a unique gift. The way the eery light coming from the ectoplasmic swirls around them reflected on her slick, black hair gave her an appropriately otherworldly glowーso beautiful it eclipsed anything he’d ever seen before. It was almost like she belonged in the Ghost Zone. 

But her personality wasn’t like any he’d ever encountered before, let alone in a spirit. He hadn’t realised it until now, or rather, he hadn't allowed himself to see it, but there was no denying the glimpses of something incredibly humane within her. As unusual a sight it might be, her love for her carnivorous plant wasn’t any different from that of a little girl playing with her puppy. The care she felt for it was evident in the curve of her smile whenever she glanced down at her little, potted friend. Her love and loyalty for her people were admirable as well. He’d been lying if he said he hadn’t been taken aback by her insistence of staying behind in order to protect her two subjects. As vain as it sounded, he’d only seen that kind of dedication and sacrifice in himselfーright when he took off to take on Pariah Dark. She’d even saved him, a ghost! Her alleged worst enemy! And all because she saw him in need and couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing. 

He could see it now. Lady Arcana represented the best of both worlds. It was like she belonged with him…

Eyes widening in shock, he quickly tried to shake off the strange feelings taking residence in his core. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge Lady Arcana, but she was still a witch! It’d be incredibly foolish of him to ignore centuries of beef between their people just for a pretty face. Besides, even if ghosts and witches weren’t enemies, he still could never date her. It’d be too dangerous. 

He had to snap out of those delusions, pronto.  “Lady Arcana.” He called out to her. A few seconds passed and she said nothing, causing him to worry. Now that he looked closely at her, she seemed a little flushed; what if something was wrong with her?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though, unbeknownst to him, he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” She exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, which only made him worry more for her sake. She was frantically shaking her hands before her and her cheeks only took on a deeper shade of red.

Looking at him like she’d been caught doing something bad, the witch cleared her throat, although it looked a little forced. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly. 

The halfa’s eyes shot open at that. Duh! What was he thinking!? Of course not seeing their queen return from the Ghost Zone would cause an uproar among her clan! “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Lady Arcana  said softly, and Danny could feel his heart swelling at her words. Unbidden, his expression fell a little when she put a little distance between the two. She was about to cast the spell that would send her home when his voice acted before his brain had time to catch up to it. “Wait!”

Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of himself, he couldn’t keep the seed of hope from being planted when she gave him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

Danny was pretty sure he’d just smiled appreciatively at her, which was why he didn’t understand when she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!” 

“Wait, Lady Arcana!” He called out to her once more, hating how desperate he sounded. 

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

The way her expression softened was enough to bring forth emotions he long believed dead and buried. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

And with that, she was gone. 

The snow-white haired ghost kept staring off into the distance even after she was long gone, his mind still trying to process the day’s events. But there was something that, hard as he might, he just couldn’t make sense of. She’d been able to grab him while he was intangible, but how? At first he thought it was a specific spell or something, but that theory was soon proven mistaken when not even Lady Arcana seemed to know how she’d been able to touch him. 

Only one thing was for sure; he needed answers. And he had a pretty good idea where he’d be able to get them. 

Danny’s musings were abruptly interrupted by the sight of his best friend pointing a fry accusingly at Sam, “When were you going to tell me you’re rich?”

A heavy silence suddenly filled their booth. It was like someone had forced a horrible screech out of a vinyl disc by scratching on its surface. Looking over at Sam, the halfa was sure she was about to drop her food, too stunned to even move. The way her eyes had popped open would’ve been comical, hadn’t it been for the tense atmosphere. 

Shaking her head lightly, the Goth girl finally regained her senses, her shocked face morphing itself into a scowl. “Say it a little louder, Tucker.” She grumbled. “I don’t think they’ve heard you all the way to Siberia.”

Now it was Tucker’s turn to scowl. “Uh, no. You don’t get to be mad at me for saying it aloud.” He slumped back on his seat, turning his head away from her. “Not when you never even told me yourself; I had to find out through Jazz.”

“Jazz?” Danny repeated, confused. “When did you talk about this with Jazz?”

“Uh...we were texting each other and it came up.” He shrugged his concerns off. “But that’s not important right now. What matters,” he said hotly as he shot the brunette a pointed look, “is that we’ve been friends for over a year and you never told me! How come Danny and Jazz get to know you’re part of the Mansons but I don’t?!”

The youngest Fenton was about to try and explain things to the techno geek when Sam beat him to it, “Tucker, it’s not like I planned this! I was just having dinner with my dad when Danny and his sister appeared at the restaurant.” She explained, exasperated. “And honestly? The only reason Danny knows is because Jazz already did. It’s not like I saw them come in and waved at them like, ‘Hey, guys! I’m here with my Hella wealthy father! You wanna come with to our yacht in the Mediterranean?’” She droned in an overly cheery, sugary-sweet voice, her lashes fluttering excessively.

“You have a yacht in the Mediterranean?” Both boys asked, incredulous. 

Her scowl deepened. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Yeah, well..,” His shoulders slouched, Tucker could only sulk, hurt. “Could’ve still told me. I thought we were friends, Sam.”

His words were like a knife piercing through her heart. They were friends, weren’t they? Despite their differences and some of his most obnoxious flaws, Tucker was still the first person to ever approach her without ulterior motives in mind. Even after they’d made it clear they could never work as a couple, he stayed with her. Annoying he may be, he was still the first friend she’d ever made on her own, and she loved him for it. He was right; he didn’t deserve to be hurt due to her secretive nature. 

With a sigh, she scrubbed her face with one hand, feeling remorseful. “Tuck, I’m...I’m really sorry.” She confessed, earning the techno geek’s full attention. “You’re right, even if the secret was mine to tell, I should’ve let you know sooner.” She sighed once more, unable to meet his eyes. Sam hated allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of others; growing up, she’d learned to depend on no one but herself, therefore, showing her helpless, weaker, side to others was incredibly hard to do. “Listen, you’re the first friend I’ve made in a very long time. I was afraid of losing you.”

Although his posture was still guarded, Tucker couldn’t deny her words piqued his interest. “What do you mean, Sam? How is me knowing who you are going to lead to you losing me?”

“I sort of agree with Tucker.” Danny commented. “If anything, it’d bring you two closer.”

“Right?”

Chuckling mirthlessly, the Goth shook her head. Both boys flinched when they saw the pain reflected in her hazel eyes. “Look, being me isn’t easy, okay? I’m not saying life in general ain’t shitty, because that’d be lying, but my life is especially complicated. 

“I grew up trying to live up to insanely high expectations, a childhood no kid should ever be forced to go through. I was constantly reminded of the near impossibility that was me making real friends, and I guess, once I reached puberty, it just made me cynical.” Sam admitted quietly, not looking up from her trail of food. “By the time I could try making friends of my own, I was already convinced the moment they learned of my family’s wealth, they’d start seeing me as their personal credit card, instead of my own person who deserves to be loved and accepted just for being who I am.”

Although she desperately tried to hide it, Danny and Tucker immediately exchanged concerned glances the instant she sniffled. Their hearts broke in two for the girl sitting with them. Sure, they’d been Casper High’s laughing stock from the beginning to end of their high school experience, but they always had each other. Sam...Sam spent the majority of her life alone. It was impossible not to feel for her. 

“In...in the end,” God, how she hated the way her voice shook! “I decided hiding that part of me was easier. I wanted friends who liked me for me, and having a Black MasterCard was surely going to make things difficult.”

“You have a Black MasterCard?” Tucker accidentally let out. When Danny’s neon green glare started burning a hole in his skull, he backtracked. “I’m sorry, Sam. I mean...I guess I mean I’m sorry.”

“You are? But I’m the one who’s kept you in the dark this long!”

 “Yeah, and it hurts.” He admitted. “But it’s obvious you had your reasons and after hearing them, man, I can’t blame you. I would also hide all that cash if I were you. Even though the temptation of flaunting my own private jet in front of all the asholes who used to shove me into lockers would be too great.”

Despite herself, his joke made her laugh. “Thanks Tuck. Friends?” She rubbed her eyes to wipe the imaginary tears away. She was relieved to know she didn’t cry; crying was something Sam Manson just didn’t do. It would’ve been mortifying.

He leaned over to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re still friends. But you’re paying for our next meal.” That earned him a playful punch on the arm from the Goth, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions. 

Shaking her head good-naturedly, she scoffed. “Deal.”

After that, the three kept talking amongst themselves. About everything and nothing. Nearing the end of their meal, Danny and Tucker were too engrossed reminiscing about their high school days per her request. Admittedly, just hearing the traumatising experiences they’d been through made her feel suddenly grateful for never attending the dreaded place herself. Still, after the tenth story retelling how some jackass had forced Danny to eat his jockstrap after losing a betーew!ー her mind wandered elsewhere. 

Her last encounter with Phantom sent her reeling. The way they both complemented each other when they worked as a team was astounding. It reminded her of Grandma Ida’s tales of how things used to be before the ghosts forced them into hiding, when the two species were practically symbiotic of each other. 

For the first time since she received his letter, she found herself trusting him. Most importantly, a part of herself came to wish she could indeed trust him. Perhaps all the centuries apart and resentment had clouded their people’s minds. Maybe they were really better off together than separated. She had to admit her knowledge on ghosts was very limited aside from what she’d been taught her entire life, and if there was something Sam was, that was inquisitive. She never took anything by face value, so why did she do just that with ghosts?

She needed to learn more about them. She needed to act like an individual, rather than a bee awaiting orders from the queen, and do a little research of her own. 

She needed answers and, crazy as it might be, she knew where to find them. 

“Hey, Danny?” Her voice stopped short Tucker’s retelling of his hellish experience dating the second most popular girl in school. When Danny’s baby blue eyes met hers, she almost lost her nerve. Almost. “Um, would you mind taking me to FentonWorks?”

[kob131]

Rewatching volume 8 I can safely say that they kinda ruined Ironwood's character. To me they made him a cartoony villain by shooting the counsel guy and teaming up with Watts at the start of the volume, as well as him willing to blow up mantle even though Salem was gone. I think they should have taken their time in the volume making Ironwood a villain, Judgemental critter explains how he could have been better in her review. Buuut that's just my opinion

Then I figure you don’t mind if I go into Judgmental Critter’s Ironwood part?

‘Ironwood is an interestingly complex character, both kind and understanding but also stern and harsh.’

... That’s...not unique. Like, at all. That’s like every Sink or Swim Mentor or Stern Father figure. Fuck, Hank Hill came to mind.

‘He was the one who broke the news to Yang, being earnest and disappointed that yang was disqualified. But also put his foot down so there’s no protest from the girls.’

... So? This isn’t the aspect of him that Volumes 7 and 8 are being focused on and this is BEFORE his paranoia and trust issues got validated so of course he’s in a naturally better state.

‘Here’s a man who convinced himself that he built an army that couldn’t be beat.’

Wait, did you just...skip the part where he relates to Yang and implies he has PTSD, indicating he’s not exactly mentally well? ... What the fuck?

And you’d better be considering this when you come to Volume 8, after his army has been beaten and just got stretched thin.

‘In Volume 4, he stands kindly by Weiss’ side, stands up for her against the Atlas elite and when the girls meet him again-’

... *graps Judgmental Critter by the collar as they pass by.* Don’t think I didn’t notice that.

Jacques: You've never trusted anyone other than yourself!

Ironwood: (shouting) And for good reason!

Weiss covers her mouth with her hand as she gasps at the sound of Ironwood slamming his fist onto the desk.

Ironwood: If Oz had just listened to me from the start...

Jacques: You need to get a grip.

Ironwood: That's exactly what I'm doing. Our people need protection. By this time next week, the Kingdom of Atlas will be officially closing its borders. No one in; no one out. Without the council's permission.

Jacques: You mean, without your permission?

Ironwood: And if that becomes the case, I would think you'd want to be on my good side.

Funny you don’t mention this in your summary of him, considering this is portrayed as a deeply personal reveal of the man.

I also remember that you ignored what he said in Volume 2.

Glynda: Trouble sleeping?

Ironwood: (Looking back, gripping his shoulder with the other hand.) Arm was acting up.

Glynda: Of course, so logically, you got out of bed, dressed yourself completely and decided to gaze menacingly out into the distance. (Approaches all the way to his side, then looks at him concerned.) What's wrong?

Ironwood: I've trusted him for years. We both have. I just... I can't help but feel like he's keeping us in the dark.

Glynda: Don't be ridiculous! You know very well that we are not the ones in the dark.

Ironwood: (Laughs humorously.) That makes it worse! I refuse to believe that a man that I've trusted for so long would act so... passively.

Glynda: (Puts a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder.) You're a good person, James. You've always done what you think is best for the people, even against strong protest. It's admirable. But it's high time you stopped talking about trust and started showing it. (Drops her hand as they stare into the distance together.) Ozpin has experience that the rest of us lack. And I think that's something worth remembering.

These things that connect Ironwood’s actions in the past and his actions in the future...

And you don’t mention them despite being big character moments for him? Maybe this is a coinc- 

‘He knelt to spoke to Oscar, which showed his dad energy!’

... *steams starts to rise from my face*

Ironwood: Without him here to guide us, all I can do is use my best judgment.

Behind him, Oscar shifts uncomfortably. As if sensing something, Ironwood stops and looks back.

Ironwood: What is it?

Oscar: Actually, Oz isn't completely gone.

Qrow: Uh, Oscar here is… is the next Ozpin.

Ironwood: Oz?

Smiling, Ironwood quickly and eagerly approaches Oscar, who looks nervous.

Ironwood: I'm so glad you're here. I didn't think you--

Oscar puts his hands up and interrupts Ironwood, as the latter crouches to Oscar's level.

Oscar: Not quite. He's kind of, um, gone... at the moment.

Ironwood's smile fades, and he lowers his head.

That wasn’t him acting like a dad, that was Ironwood being desperate, given a fleeting glimpse of hope that the man he respected and looked to above all others is...there, standing in front of him, where he can finally have an equal again.

That was...so blatant and obvious I am finding it hard to believe you’re not doing this intentionally.

“He spoke to Oscar as if he was a trusted ally despite missing Ozpin’s words of guidance!”

Oscar. Has. Ozpin. In. Him.

Ozpin. The man that James, AGAIN, respects and follows.

No. Fucking. Shit.

“He gave Team RWBY the Huntsman title and upgrades!”

‘Huntsmen’ in Atlas meaning ‘soldiers’. And that is STILL not contradictory to what he does later.

‘He was well meaning and kind...until he found out they lied to him.”

Which was bad of them...but they were also in fault when they treated Ozpin harshly and James did WORSE so what does that tell you?

‘His PTSD comes flooding back!’

...

......

...........

You skipped how he refused to trust the council, his PEERS, with the info about Amity or even Robin, whose entire issues with him could have been solved if he TALKED to her, all because of his trust issues.

You have completely shoved his trust-related skeletons into the closest and play up his more pitiable PTSD issues. You’re fucking Mary Sueing him.

‘Was all of it Team RWBY’s fault? They didn’t give him the truth but neither did Ozpin-’

Was it Team RWBY’s fault that the Fall of Beacon or Atlas’ issues happened? No! In fact, James was more culpable in both scenarios (if he listen to Ozpin then the machines COULDN’T attack Vale citizens and if he told the truth and listened to Team RWBY before he had no choice then he could have stopped all that shit!) than them. And just as Ironwood’s issues don’t excuse Team RWBY’s fuck ups- Ozpin’s issues don’t excuse James’ fuck ups.

‘Who can he trust? How many levels of precautions does he need to take?’

You know, I’d buy this shit if not for how the depth of his trust issues isn’t actually shown, how his issues with trust went beyond this and came around to how he was isolating himself. This is still trying to play pity for the man instead of seeing him for who he is.

‘We left Ironwood last Volume as a complex man whose filled dwith grief, guilt and fear-’

And what have we seen as the end result of these emotions time and time again in RWBY?

They cause the person to devole.

Hazel is filled with grief and used that to help justify his shit actions.

Ozpin is filled with guilt and let it distance himself from others.

Yang was filled with fear and couldn’t move on.

And Salem...Salem is all fucking three and we KNOW how she turned out.

The way that ‘complex man’ is portrayed is the same way one says a character is complex as an excuse to ignore their darker issues. She goes onto portray Volume 8′s beginning with Ironwood as somehow not in line with his ‘complexness’ when this has been an issue with him since Volume 2.

And as a special fuck you to that:

Do you have any idea how tempting Ironwood’s position is? To be hurt again and again by others as you try to defer to them? To see yourself as right time and time again but still struggling to see other’s point of view as valid? To resist the temptation to discard what EVERYONE says, to not care about what others say and carve your own path regardless of what others think, feel or say?

I have. Countless times and it is SO HARD to not do what Ironwood did. 

‘In his first scene, Ironwood crossed the line!’

Not really. From Ironwood’s point of view, Slate was standing in his way with Salem at his doorstep and in a worse shape than ever and he can’t afford to waste any time with him. Killing him is rather logical and why would Ironwood care? It’s right in his eyes and the morality of other people has only been chains to him.

‘This isn’t playing on his paranoia!’

Gee, what emotion is it that causes Paranoia again? ... Fear? And Ironwood did this out of what again? ... Fear of Salem?

How is it RWBY can bee so unsubtle to cause blunt force trauma on it’s audience and yet they STILL routinely fail to see it.

‘He’s just a shitty cartoon villain!’

Ah huh. Again, I heard the same about the P5 villains. And they all had real world counterpart (Madrame in particular can be compared to ROOSTER TEETH).

‘Cartoon villain’ is just a buzzword at this point.

‘His personality before was so much more intriguing!’

The personality where you chopped off the stuff that shows this coming?

Yeah headcanons tend to appear that way.

‘Everything he was just thrown away to give us a laughable shell of a character!’

AKA ‘Two Ironwoods’ right?

Newsflash- characters and people can change for the worst. People can reach this point and beyond for the same reasons as James did. Good people can devolve and change. And yet he still had his humanity. He still tried to hold back in some manner before he felt concerned even more. He never took joy in what he did. And he still cared for his people. 

To call all that effort just a ‘shell’ because you BLATANTLY cannot accept this change in a character enrages me beyond what text can show!

‘He didn’t develop into a colder, heartless man-’

Yes. He. Did.

He ignored his people’s concerns and feelings just for a greater goal. He treated people as a whole instead of individuals. He kept secrets more and more. He constantly questioned if his compromises gave Salem the advantage.

He did devolve. You just blinded yourself.

‘I could see this happening!’

Right, if the show jumped through X+1 hoops right?

‘But instead-’

No fuck you, I’m done.

God what is with these twins and pissing me the fuck off?

[ashtheshortstack]

seeking the truth - part 1

Rating: T Fandom: Danny Phantom

Part 1: The Truth of Vlad Masters

Tags: Valerie POV, Post D-Stabilized, Pre-PP, Sorta Reveal Fic

Read on ao3

Part 2

Humiliation… Guilt… Shame… Fury… Each emotion swirled through Valerie like the five stages of grief on a marathon. The anger was most prominent. Vlad Masters played her like a fool. How dare he!? She was a teenager whose life was in shambles, and he’d taken advantage of her pain! Conned her into believing that Phantom was the enemy. 

Not that Phantom hadn’t actually screwed up her life. Because he did. She’d later learned after fighting her fair share of ghosts that the ghost dog did break out of the Ghost Zone on occasion. Maybe, it had just been easier to blame Phantom for ruining her father’s career than to accept that a lot of it was an accident. When she was handcuffed to the ghost boy, she’d realized he was basically just a stupid kid himself. 

What idiots they both were, huh? 

Valerie flopped down on her bed, tears stinging her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give him that. The one adult on this planet she thought understood her. Thought really had her back and was on her side… It was all a lie. Just another ghost using her for personal gain. Damn, she hated ghosts. Why did she live in Amity Park of all places? Clearly, the most haunted town in America. (Thanks to the Fentons, she was almost sure.) 

But what did she really know? Nothing made any sense. Humans can be ghosts? Ghosts can be humans? What the hell was that all about? How was that even possible? 

Groaning, Valerie buried her face in her pillow. “I have to talk to Phantom,” she muttered to herself. 

He said he’d be “ready to play” the next day. Maybe, there needed to be less gun and ghost ray blasts and more sharing time. She had to understand how Danielle was “related” to him if she was human. Unless… Phantom wasn’t all ghost himself? 

...There was no way she was getting a restful night's sleep. 

  Valerie wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but she was definitely jarred awake by the sound of her ghost detection device blaring loudly. Yelping, she sat straight up in her bed and quickly opened the tracker to see the blinking dot on the screen. The ghost wasn’t too far from her home. Maybe it was Phantom? Even if it wasn’t, he’d probably show up anyway. The ghost boy never seemed to be able to resist a fight. Playing hero all of the time… 

It was that stupid Box Ghost again. Despite how annoying she found Phantom’s smartass quips to be, the prior was the worst of them all. Phantom was already sucking the ghost into the Fenton Thermos (which she still idly wondered where he had acquired one) by the time she finally approached the scene. 

Phantom capped off the thermos while staring at her. His mouth was agape, those neon green eyes wide in surprise. “U-Um. Hi? Not that I’m complaining, but you’re not shooting me? I thought we called the truce off.” 

Valerie pursed her lips, eyes hard as she squinted at him. How on earth would she convince him to discuss anything with her? They were enemies. The last twenty-four hours--despite changing her life a lot-- didn’t change that. “We need to talk.” 

“ Talk? ” he asked with a stunned scoff. “This is new. You’ve never been much of a Chatty Kathy. Except when you’re zapping me for answers--you’re not going to zap me for answers again, are you?” 

Why was he like this!? It took every bit of her to keep her temper in check. 

Crossing her arms, Valerie took a breath. “Look, I know Vlad Masters is Vlad Plasmius.” 

Well, that got his attention. All humor was suddenly drained from his face. He was--well--pale as a ghost for a lack of a better term. Those green eyes hardened. “How’d you find out?” 

“After you and Danielle left, I went back to check on Mr. Mas-- Vlad and saw him transform. Heard him talking about his whole jacked up plan about melting down Danielle too. I need answers, Phantom, and I expect you to corporate.” 

Sighing, his shoulders slumped slightly. “I’m guessing if I don’t come willingly, you’re just going to bring out the literal big guns, huh?”

Valerie just smirked in response. 

“Fine,” Phantom groaned, ruffling a gloved hand through his hair. “But there will be some things I can’t answer--for my own safety, okay?” 

“Deal.” 

  They found a building to sit on. It was out of sight from the peeping public, so no one in Amity could just ask why the ghost boy was hanging out with the Red Huntress for the evening. Plus, if her dad found out… he’d have her ass. 

Phantom leaned against the brick. “What do you want to know?” 

“How long has Vlad Masters been a ghost?” she asked. 

“Since college.” 

“That long?” 

Phantom snorted. “How do you think he got loaded? He overshadowed tycoons and robbed banks.” 

Valerie almost couldn’t believe it. But she’d seen him transform with her own eyes. How someone she had admired could be so low. Not just a filthy ghost, but a legitimate criminal. 

There was a tightness in her chest. She felt so guilty . Phantom had tried to warn her, hell Danielle even warned her. But she was so dead set in her hatred for Phantom and her trust in Vlad that she refused to listen. 

“So, you and Vlad have this--rivalry?” 

Snorting, Phantom shook his head. “You don’t know the half of it. He… He’s weirdly obsessed with me. He wants me to be his son and take over the world with him.” 

“That’s--crazy.” 

“Yeah, he’s a crazed up fruit loop.” 

Valerie snickered at that. Could it have always been this way? Could she and Phantom have gotten along like this if she’d just… listened? 

“Well, I’d say we have a common enemy now.” 

His brows shot up. “Really?” 

“Yeah, definitely. Can’t have anyone as powerful as Vlad as both a ghost and a human running around. Especially as our mayor,” she paused, “which does lead me to my next question. Do all of the ghosts know that he’s human?” 

Phantom nodded slowly. “Yeah, the Ghost Zone knows about halfas.” 

Valerie blinked. “‘Halfas?’” 

“Uh… nothing.” 

“There’s more half ghosts? Besides Vlad and Danielle?” 

Phantom suddenly wasn’t answering. He pursed his lips, staying silent. Valerie wasn’t stupid. They both knew that. She was able to put two and two together. 

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” 

He wouldn’t meet her gaze. 

Valerie felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. A rug swept out from beneath her. Literally everything she thought she knew about ghosts wasn’t true. Some ghost hunter she was. Did the Fentons know of half ghosts? Maybe, she could ask Danny? 

“You’re… human?” 

“I can’t…” he swallowed, “I can’t answer that.” 

  But he was answering. She knew it. Phantom was human too. 

[sepublic]

Willow’s Unwanted Fan

While I don’t exactly think the two would be healthy unless after plenty of development... I am imagining Willow VERY hesitantly giving Boscha a chance as just an acquaintance, and... maybe Boscha makes an offhand remark or feels some frustration at Willow, who has it so easy in becoming popular once she applies herself because of how innately talented she is, how lucky she is- And meanwhile Boscha had to work so hard for fame.

Of course, Boscha doesn’t realize what this says about how toxic the coven system is, and how unfair it is because some people ARE blessed better than others; And the idea that people who are less well-off than others only have a lack of effort on their part to blame, is a faulty assumption that she defaults to, to justify cruelty and superiority. In the end, there’s a lot more to success than just hard work, there are plenty of factors that you just can’t control, so maybe a lack of success by others isn’t something you can fault them for...

Maybe Boscha accuses Willow of being ungrateful, of taking for granted the kind of power she has as a popular witch at school, citing some examples -such as herself- of how other kids really struggle to achieve this sort of fame... And Willow needs to recognize that she has a privilege, a luxury that she really needs to take advantage of and make the most of; She’s got a lot of potential, and Boscha just wants to help Willow achieve that!

Kind of like a parallel to how some kids feel pressured by parents and teachers to pursue major accomplishments in academia because of their potential, when really they’re content with the humble goal they normally desire... Perhaps Boscha will try to vicariously live out her lost power, or at least a talent and level of achievement she never had/will have, through Willow- Maybe repeating what her mother tries to do with her, even! And this’d be a particularly horrifying revelation to Boscha, who doesn’t seem to treat her mother with much respect and maybe even sees her as someone to avoid being like...

In addition, maybe Boscha is trying to replace Amity as a friend by having Willow as the powerful witch that Boscha looks up to and emulates... Though in this scenario, Boscha is almost consciously trying to mold Willow into that specific image of what she wants her role model to be, whereas with Amity she was mostly just projecting, and not recognizing Amity’s actual personality. I could see Boscha trying to get petty revenge against Amity, by making Willow so much more popular and cooler than she had ever been, especially since Willow is apparently more talented than the Blight girl,

So just as her mother uses Boscha’s achievement to show up Odalia and her kid, Boscha uses Willow to show up Amity by basically bragging about how her new friend is so much better; How Boscha is GLAD Amity left her, so the Blight girl is no longer holding her down, and Boscha can actually hang out with people who deserve it... And similarly, Amity is missing out on so much potential that Boscha could’ve supported her in reaching (just as Amity left Grudgby), and it’s all her loss!

Boscha finds an unusual resignation in not being the best, so she settles for latching onto the actual best, and making the most of them to spite those she feels ‘didn’t appreciate her enough’. Boscha is basically trying to convert Willow to be more like her, so she can actually live with Willow being better than her, and thus validate her own beliefs in a very roundabout way, by having the ‘best’ (AKA Willow) agree with them!

She can have Willow validate Boscha’s own choices and values in life, by making Willow reach the same ones... And so Boscha can have a role model who she looks up to, but also a friend who basically tells her that what she’s doing is right, and that Boscha isn’t doing anything wrong! Boscha doesn’t want to consider or self-reflect, she just wants someone to look up to, by providing a flattering world-view that isn’t challenging and only confirms what Boscha already believes in.

Regardless, Willow senses some toxicity brewing and she nopes out of there entirely, and/or completely shuts down Boscha’s train of thought. I think Boscha and Willow could have a very interesting dynamic later down the line, especially in regards to how Willow is possibly becoming more popular than Boscha, and having her greater magical strength acknowledged, particularly begrudgingly by Boscha herself... Although I hesitate to say that there’d be an outright positive relationship between the two, much less actual romance.

Goodness, what if Boscha was SO desperate to have some validation of her old role and beliefs, that she just... goads Willow into attacking her, under the satisfaction that if Willow beats her up, then it justifies her hierarchy of stronger witches being above the weaker ones! And even after being defeated, Boscha just trails behind Willow because she’s really accepting any retaliation as self-punishment for not being strong enough; That maybe she becomes SO devoted to the idea of a role model or a leader that she can follow, that she actively revels in being hurt because it’s part of some really sick and twisted concept of ‘suffering builds character’!

What I’m basically saying is, what if Boscha was like Jasper towards Lapis in Alone at Sea, fully accepting of any abuse from Lapis, because Lapis is SO strong that she’s fully justified in thrashing a weaker Jasper, and it gives Jasper some martyrdom satisfaction to serve and provide for someone who’s so much better than her, especially if it means having any taste or association of the kind of power she looks up to! Maybe Boscha just accepts, if not embraces, any retaliation from Willow as proof of her belief that strong witches should be above the weaker ones, etc., thereby validating Boscha’s loss because all IS right in the hierarchy, it just shifted!

Maybe Boscha even enjoys being hurt, because deep down it plays into some possible self-loathing at losing to Willow, while also acknowledging Willow’s victory and strength... And she keeps picking fights with Willow no matter how badly she gets hurt, because Boscha believes that with each battle, she’ll get better and better and maybe one day defeat the Park girl, so any injuries she suffers on the way are totally justifiable if it means getting back on top!

And Willow is in a dilemma where she can’t just smack Boscha away, because she doesn’t want to contribute towards that belief and justify it... She hates Boscha and won’t help her, but generally refuses to take the next step in harming the girl by entrenching her in her own ideas. Maybe we’d have a scene similar to Lapis taking her rage out on the other Lapises and thrashing them, reveling in her power over them; Only to realize that this isn’t strength, it’s just tyranny. And just as Lapis rejects Nice Lapis’ worship by admitting that her own retaliation went too far, maybe Willow does the same to Boscha...

...Of course. Even if Willow doesn’t want to outright harm Boscha, nor does she want to give her any satisfaction by playing by her game and rules; If Boscha were to threaten any of her friends, of course she’d punt Boscha into the stratosphere, no guilt nor hesitation. Because in that kind of situation, it’s just a pragmatic scenario of self-defense, where physical safety is prioritized above any ‘principles’ or ‘points’ that are trying to be made here. And Boscha is just someone Willow is going to have ignore, kick aside, and not waste time nor energy in... That yeah, if Willow hurts Boscha to defend herself, that sucks, especially if it contributes to Boscha’s toxic beliefs; But in the end, Willow’s own comfort is prioritized above all-else, and it’s Boscha engaging with Willow, that makes Willow’s happiness come at the cost of Boscha’s own recovery.

Boscha only has herself to blame for Willow choosing a painful option in that ultimatum, because she’s the one that set it down to begin with- Like when she made her friends choose between Boscha and King-Luz, and not letting them be content with both. Or of course, when Boscha makes the school choose between herself, or Willow... When both can be popular and beloved, this isn’t a pie to divvy up! Willow just might beat up Boscha regardless of whether or not she’s playing into the girl’s point or not, because Willow’s comfort comes before proving Boscha wrong- And it’s this apathetic disregard, that it’s meaningless to Willow whether or not Boscha is vindicated, that she’d rather not be bothered by the problem to begin with... That will show Boscha just how pointless her efforts have been, and how little they mean in the end.

If Boscha sometimes dismisses things or people as being ‘beneath’ her, then she’s about to be on the receiving end by none other than Willow Park herself...! It’s Willow’s out of sight, out of mind principle- Unintentionally playing by the game or not, it’s all inconsequential and interchangeable, it just. Doesn’t. Matter. Willow has more important things to worry about, because Boscha isn’t important, and she’ll do what she needs to do to get Boscha out of the way and out of her hair so she can focus on what Willow REALLY cares about. 

And knowing how little she actually means to some, that she’s not the center of other people’s world like Boscha wanted to believe, that Willow certainly has no place for her that isn’t an afterthought; It would be quite the wake-up call. People have lives beyond Boscha, they don’t need her and thus they aren’t obligated to her; So don’t act like they are, Boscha, and don’t act like you can change this and force them to reciprocate by ‘earning’ that right in a challenge they never agreed to.

[kitkatopinions]

Tbh I have no idea how people unironically say RWBY is about trust and how good it is to trust when people have literally had their trust betrayed leading to horrible things in SEVEN major plot points.

Number 1. Before the start of the show, Blake trusted in and believed in Adam, her mentor and (likely romantic) partner. Blake's trust in him was broken, as he went too far and started down a destructive and likely abusive path. This made it incredibly hard for Blake to trust anyone again, which is only made worse as Adam comes back into her life in an incredibly traumatic way, stabs her, cuts off the arm of her friend, and tries to behead her. Adam continues to be a major threat to her and her loved ones for months after, until she is forced to kill him in self defense. Blake's trust in Adam was proved to be wrong, and he hurt her and others.

Number 2. Ruby's trust in her friend Emerald - as well as Mercury and Cinder who were more acquaintances - was broken in an incredibly traumatic way. After discovering that Mercury was faking being injured and had lied about Ruby's beloved sister, he cheerfully stops her from saving Penny, who Emerald orchestrates the death of, and Ruby makes it past him only in time to see her dead, dismembered friend's body. Then Cinder purposefully causes a violent attack leading to the deaths of likely hundreds or more people and murders Pyrrha right in front of Ruby. Emerald, Mercury, and Cinder become central antagonists that the group sees again in Haven, who laugh and jeer about the deaths of their loved ones and almost kill Weiss. Ruby's trust in Emerald and her team was proved to be wrong, and they hurt her and others. Number 3. Leo Lionheart was a trusted member of Oz's inner circle and friend to him and Qrow. Although they (and Ironwood,) are all on edge over recent sketchy actions he's taken, Qrow and Oz give him the benefit of the doubt and Qrow even drops potentially dangerous information about Raven having the Spring Maiden. Lionheart has been working with Salem for a while, however, having gotten many of the Hunters in Mistral killed and having knowingly let Cinder infiltrate Beacon and cause the Fall. He gives this info to Salem and let's her operatives into Haven to capture children, kill children, and specifically murder Qrow - his friend and ally - and even tries to fight and kill, himself. The group trusted Leo, and it was proved to be wrong, and he hurt them and others. This betrayal clearly affects the whole group, but prominently Oz, who says Leo is not the first to betray him and uses it as another reason behind his own lack of trust in the group of teenage protagonists, which leads us to...

Number 4. In season 6 it's revealed that Salem and Oz had once been very close and romantic, but after a lot of stuff I can't take the energy to write out, Salem had changed for the worse, had lied and manipulated him, and started down a dark path he couldn't stand behind. When he tried to leave her with their kids, she exploded and murdered him and caused the deaths of their four young children. Since she couldn't die and Oz always reincarnated, this started a vicious cycle of Salem hunting down, hurting, and murdering him at every chance she got while she also tried to destroy the whole world and Ozpin tried in growing desperation to stop her and keep the world safe. Salem's actions caused great trauma that Oz has been clearly shown to have never fully healed from. She's the direct cause for his fears, paranoia, and isolation. His trust in Salem was proven to be wrong, and she hurt him and others. Number 5. Oz lied to the main cast several times and kept things hidden from them, and even after he swore not to keep any more secrets, he lied to them again. Despite Oz's problems being highly sympathetic, the show clearly intended us to think of this as a betrayal, framing the action as unquestioningly wrong, the complete lack of sympathy of our main cast being entirely unquestioned, and with doubt still being cast on Oz two seasons after. It's clear, however, that even though it’s sympathetic and understandable, Oz caused the others emotional pain through his actions, and the show intended to show us that Ruby and her team's trust in Ozpin was misplaced. Number 6. Ironwood showed major trust in the main characters, dropping charges against them and stopping them from being arrested, telling them all his plans immediately, letting them keep the Relic, giving them their Hunter licenses, sending them on high security missions, and listening to (and sometimes adhering to) their advice or concerns. But Team RWBY betrays him first by lying to him about crucial information (which he actually forgives iirc) and then by going behind his back to aid a vigilante who was stealing much needed supplies and telling her incredibly sensitive and dangerous government high security secrets. And then they never told him about it. Ironwood's trust in the protagonists was proven to be misplaced, and... Yeah, since Blake and Yang more or else helped Robyn get away with stealing supplies that were needed to finish Amity, their actions hurt James and others. Number 7. The Ace Ops and Penny trusted in Ironwood. The show had already framed Penny as having her trust broken by Ironwood when he decided to save the many while leaving the few, which the audience was meant to see as the evil option, but after that, Ironwood worked with a criminal to hack into and control her body and then threatens to bomb the remaining people of Mantle who Penny wants to protect. The Ace Ops and Winter agreed with Ironwood's choice to save Atlas and the already evacuated people of Mantle at the cost of the remaining few city blocks, but were clearly perturbed when he stopped saving as many as he could, and started actively killing whoever he wanted. And meanwhile, Oz himself was also betrayed by this turn of events, making it the second person in his very small inner circle to directly try to murder him. He clearly doesn't need any more reasons to think trusting people is something he doesn't have the luxury of. Oz, Penny, and the Ace Ops' trust in Ironwood was proven to be wrong, and he hurt them and others. And that hurt to type lol.

It's just all very strange. For a show that supposedly is meant to make you believe in the goodness of trust, there's certainly a lot of betrayal, back stabbing, lying, and mistrusting. There's something to be said about shows where bad things happen over and over and our main characters must struggle to continue to be good and trusting still even after they've been taken advantage of... But RWBY is not that, because the main protagonists themselves lie, mistrust, and betray, and the show frames that as good, letting us know Ruby was one hundred percent right and writing in fan favorites berating the people who question that, while they have Ironwood kicking puppies and shouting irrationally to remind us that Ruby's instinct of mistrust was completely good and right. I honestly can't take it seriously. RWBY's messages are juvenile at best, but this one was just severely ill handled. When I say that RWBY has a problem with 'Show Don't Tell' this is one of the things I mean. They didn't construct a narrative where Ruby and her team rise above cynicism, trust in others, and get the good consequences of not being frequently betrayed - thus showing the benefits of trusting and relying on others. They didn't even construct a gritty, sad, but ultimately hopeful narrative, where Ruby and co push through disappointment and betrayals and decide every day to continue to hold onto their morals of giving people the benefit of the doubt and offering redemption. What CRWBY did was construct a narrative where it seems like people would be stupid to keep putting their trust in each other, where it seems likely that anyone could be secretly evil next, and where it seems like the protagonists just don't have to adhere to any rules or standards and will be framed as right and congratulated no matter how they act or who they themselves hurt. And then we're told that the show is about trust, and Trust Love, and how your feelings will always lead you in the right direction despite being shown the opposite. I don't get it at all.

I don't feel like RWBY has anything to do with trust anymore.

[tiefling-queer]

For D&D character ask, for any and/or all of your characters;

1, 5, 8, 15, 23, 29, 64, 65, 69(Nice)

i’m gonna answer these for whichever characters have the most interesting answers, skipping some for repeats:

1. why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)?

kip (wizard, school of necromancy): crisis of faith midway through grave cleric training, spurred on by him sucking at the whole cleric thing (9 wisdom babyyy) while also being a nerd (18 int babyyyy)

baylock (shadow sorcerer/rogue): the sorcerer part is a side effect from being born dead during a cataclysmic event that tore portions of the material plane asunder. the rogue part is because he got in with a bad crowd as a kid. he’s been gaining levels in sorcerer as he traverses the freaky magic wasteland, utilizes his magic more, and gets a little closer to death each time someone hits his squishy arcane caster frame too hard

izak (gunslinger, graveslinger): sometimes you’re a jaded teen-equivalent runaway bumming around the river kingdoms and some dude comes up to you and is like ‘im a neutral evil mercenary, but if you take this gun and learn to shoot, i can also be your dad’. and then later you’re a 20-something equivalent who just realized that you don’t actually want to be an evil mercenary so you run away again and this time some dude comes up to you and is like ‘i’m a priest of sarenrae and an exorcist, and if you believe you can be redeemed, i can also be your dad.’ and then you learn how to shoot ghosts so you can be useful while this guy teaches you about being a better person.

5. do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity?

izak: (deep lore dump) izak’s family was, at one point, pious people, and it was some ancestor’s warped perception of what piousness is and what was worth sacrificing in the name of good that led to the entire mess that is izak’s face. izak’s a devout worshiper of sarenrae now and hopes to maybe be the assistance someone needs to put themselves on a better path the way brak was for him, but there’s still a part of him that believes that, because he’s a tiefling, he’s never going to really be saved, and that his soul will eventually belong to the asura it was promised to.

8. what are three songs that suit them?

sydel: buckets of blood by rufus rex (tw for self harm, link goes to spotify because i can’t find this track on its own on youtube), thank god that i’m not you by himalayas, and bruises by fox stevenson (full playlist here)

15. do they trust their party? why or why not?

kip: he trusts them with his life, he just doesn’t trust them to understand where he’s coming from. he’s hiding some really heretical opinions that he knows at least maya (the celestial warlock) won’t agree with. he doesn’t like to talk about his family trauma, his past, or anything that he thinks the party can use to cleverly deduce that the notes he’s been scribbling are about raising the dead and theoretical conduits, prices, and replacements for the soul (he’s a little paranoid and might be giving them more credit than they deserve)

baylock: baylock might trust morgran, but he doesn’t trust surina at all, not since she and the (presumed deceased) swashbuckler tried to use him as a scapegoat when they were being interrogated by evil government warlocks. and even then, he only trusts morgran to not leave him for dead. baylock’s a fiercely loyal person by nature, so he’s been trying to keep his party at arms length so he won’t be betrayed again. the closest he came to starting to trust them was right before he found out that they told the evil government warlock that they’d turn him in in exchange for their freedom when they were captured a while back (whether or not they actually intended to do so is irrelevant for baylock - he spent 5 years in prison after being his old thieve’s guild’s fall guy, he’s not about to let it happen again)

23. how do they feel about nicknames, titles, or labels that have been given to them? how do they feel about their name?

kip: kip’s given name is joffric ravenhall. he’s been going by the alias of ‘greenbough’ on the offchance that people have heard of his family or knew his father at some point, since he really doesn’t want to explain why he’s not a priest of the raven queen by now. ‘kip’, however, is what his family and friends call him, so it was a bit of a big deal to him when he told the party to call him kip, since he hadn’t been around anyone he considered family or friend in a few years. kip’s reeling a little bit over suddenly being called an ‘adverturer type’ - to him, he’s still just a transient weirdo who picks up odd jobs.

baylock: baylock craft’s name isn’t actually baylock craft (not yet anyway lol), he stole his late cellmate’s identity to take advantage of the jailbreak that came a few days too late. his name, ekleipsis caldor, isn’t exactly something he identifies with so much as what he was once called. his father never wanted him but got stuck with him when his mother bounced, so ‘caldor’ is more a formality than anything. ‘ekleipsis’ is the greek root of ‘eclipse’, for the eclipse he was born during - but moreso, ‘ekleipsis’ doesn’t mean ‘to be covered’ - it means ‘a disappearance or abandonment’. an event where the sun abandons the sky. baylock is a walking abandonment issue. he hasn’t taken a virtue name because he thinks it’s performative (which is where him officially taking the name ‘baylock craft’ as his name and not the identity of someone he’s pretending to be comes in - it’s the equivalent of naming himself for the virtue of rebellion without naming himself something stupid and embarrassing like ‘rebel’.)

izak: izak just got done being haunted by a ghost wizard who’s obsessed with names, probably because he’s had 4. izak was born dalethiel oakleaf back when he was an elf, but when he ran away after waking up as a tiefling he went by dally. then he was a mercenary for a while and his edgy mercenary name was viper. and then, when asked for his name by the cleric of sarenrae who rescued him in the wilderness, he said he didn’t have one worth giving, so the cleric told him he’d just call him izak then. that’s who izak is now, as far as he’s concerned, or at least who he wants to be. as he told the ghost wizard who tried to torment him with his birth name, that’s not his name anymore. dalethiel oakleaf was a young elf who died on his 50th birthday. izak’s got a perfectly good name, given to him by a kind man, and he doesn’t want to think about the time in his life he went by dally or viper.

karif: karif always introduces himself formally with his full name, in the family-given-familiar name pattern - ‘ixenvari karifgethisk fraurirthos, er, but you can just call me karif.’ this is because karif’s nickname, fraurirthos, the one his childhood friends and family call him, translates from draconic literally to ‘breathes secrets’. his nickname is snitch. he’s a little embarrassed about it. but ‘karifgethisk’ is a bit of a mouthful for those who don’t speak draconic, so shortening it to ‘karif’ suits fine.

29. who would they save? who would they be saved by? 

this has been a tough one, i’m not sure how to answer it for anyone.

64. do they value mercy or justice more?

kip: this honestly depends on his mood and your definitions of both ‘mercy’ and ‘justice’. he’s very easily led away by his emotions - both pity and compassion that could sway him to lean more towards mercy, and rage that tends to harden his heart and clear his head. he’s more than down to torture someone if he deems them evil, and he’ll destroy creatures like aberrations, fiends, and undead without a second thought, but he views life as a very precious thing - even when torturing an evil demon-summoning spellcaster, he still was trying to find ways out that resulted in that spellcaster getting out alive. this has come back to bite the party in the ass, since it was kip’s insistance that the party not kill all the guards on their little anarchy stunt that got them blackmailed to infiltrate the evil army of darkness, which is something he most certainly DOES NOT want to do.

65. what is holding them back?

kip: kip’s hang-ups about the soul and how he was raised are holding him back from becoming a stronger necromancer, while his grief and refusal to accept mortality hold him back from possibly still being some flavor of raven queen follower.

baylock: baylock’s hesitance and confusion over what he wants are holding him back from either fully embracing the rebellion or ditching it to get vengence

izak: izak’s self-loathing and fear of himself hold him back from interacting with people and forming meaningful relationships outside of the handful of people who’ve found out he’s a tiefling.

69 (nice): how would they describe their party members?

kip:

maya is... complicated. kip admires her pragmatism and her faith - it reminds him of his older sister, and he’s been missing that rock in his life. however, he butts heads with her a lot, because he finds her cold duty-bound outlook to be pointlessly cruel.

meera is wicked smart and talented, if a little misguided at times. he’s very big brother protective of her, always trying to offer her his dagger because ‘it’s a nice dagger’ (it’s +1)

amity is a good kid, and smarter than some may give him credit for. he’s fun to be around, and usually a level-headed presence, which makes it even more surprising just how ok he is with killing.

baylock:

morgran is an asshole, but is also probably the only person in the group who believes in this whole rebellion thing, so that counts for something. he’s decent people, can probably be trusted to see a mission through and not do anything completely stupid, but since he’s decent people he’s probably going to insist on staying on this path of lunacy with delusions of ‘taking down the Summit’. also, morgran shouldn’t be allowed to talk to anyone they meet, because he’s an asshole, and doesn’t bother pretending to be personable like baylock does.

surina is insane. she’s deranged, like everyone who tries to live outside the sanctums is. also just racist at times. when their cover gets blown or when they get mixed up with people they should be talking down, she’s gonna be the reason they all get killed.

porthos is was an idiot and a liability and just proved him right by running off and doing something rash and probably getting himself killed and also maybe compromising the whole rebellion which baylock doesn’t care about, so why does he feel like he should have done more to stop Porthos’ demise?

[trickster-4]

Luz is Shabranigdo !?

Chapter 4

Sorry it’s been a while, this chapter was uncooperative.. Gonna take a nap..

“So Eda’s ancestor met me in Atlantis…” Luz sat down on a nearby stump. She felt herself struggling to smile.. It was a small light in comparison to the destruction that happened.. Yet, Eda the second closest thing she had to a mother and the most wonderful person she had met was born because of those past actions.. Who knows maybe there were other small lights? “She ended up becoming a witch.. “

“You know the Clawthorne Family has been a very prominent family.. History changing in fact…”

“Really?”

“Yup.. They were responsible for a lot of reformations..” Amity had a look of pride in her eyes.. Her eye’s grew a little sad as nostalgia grew in her thoughts.. She used to consider it an honor to study under Lilith.. “They broke down a lot of caste systems.. Put an end to a lot of insane laws.. People called them Heroes… Sadly much of their changes were undone by the rise of Emperor Belos.. But, when people think powerful witches from ancient history they tend to think Lina Inverse-Clawthorne..”

“I think I remember her..” Luz blushed at the memory of the most tsundere witch she could remember. “She and Gourry were so in love, but he was so dumb..” She laughed at the memory of their arguments, chases, and how they fought over food.. “It took a long time for him to actually realize that much less confess it..”

“Reaally?”

“Yeah it took end of the world nonsense..” Luz shook her head in utter disappointment at that kind of boneheaded ignorance. “You know.. I originally thought the reason I was.. punished was darker.. That I tried to destroy the world for the laughs...”

“Yeah I heard..” Amity gazed at Luz with concern and worry.. “Don’t forget we just saw that your soul was literally ripped apart seven ways.. Soul fragmentation can make people unstable.. Memories can get jumbled up even when the pieces go back when they’re supposed to be.. My guess is the memories of your punishment got mixed with the memories of your later fragments.”

“I hope there’s not gonna be anymore problems..”Luz turned away from Amity. This had been a harrowing experience and Eda had pushed Amity to go through it with her.. Letting her see all these issues.. It grated on certain learned instincts.

“Hey don’t worry Luz.. We’re with you.. Okay?”

“Okay..” Luz lit up again. She hugged Amity tightly before reaching into her pocket and pulled the bell. “Let’s go..” She rang it twice..

Seconds later…

Luz woke up to see Lilith chained with her staff currently lying in Eda’s grip. Amity got up not too soon after and a sour frown grew on her face..

“Lilith..”

“Amity..”

“You wanna run it by me how Luz was a threat to you and how that justified lethal force?”

“She’s the lord of darkness! Literally the source of all dark magic..”

“She was a fourteen year-old girl barely my age struggling with magic. No offense..”

“None taken..”

“And you had to the gall to kidnap her to threaten just to get an advantage over Eda. How is that civilized? How is that any better than how you say the wild witches were.. If her powers hadn’t woke up..”

“But, she didn’t die… Frankly I’m not certain anything could kill her..”

“You did all this to secure your place with a tyrant..”

“That’s treason..”

“Is it really treason if the civilization isn’t worth preserving? … eight hundred thousand people…”

“..Excuse me?” Lilith’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Amity with growing fear and desperation. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing her apprentice couldn’t know could she? “What are you talking about?”

“What does she mean Amity?”

“… Our population is dwindling Luz.. There are witches disappearing from time to time..” Amity pinned Lilith with a glare.. “Their palismans are taken, artifacts destroyed, and research burned.. He’s feeding on us isn’t he?”

“…..I won’t say another word..”

“Right because of your little collar..”

Everyone turned to look at Luz who was startled before rubbing the back of her head with an embarrassed smile.. “Ooh right sorry about that still have Atlantis on the brain.. The contract in her wrist reminds me of the sigil contracts the nobles used to use for their slaves… I mean the spell work is almost exactly alike… This is reaally uncomfortably for me now..”

“Wait you’re saying the coven system is based on Atlantean Slavery?”

“Basically? I mean think about it you can control any potential avenues for the middle class mages.. And keep them from being a potential threat by making them weaker..”

“In that case were would Lilith have been?” Eda grinned towards her sister eyes filled mischievous mirth

“A highly valued tutor or courtesan. Based on her limiters and tracking glyphs..”

“Courtesan?!” An infuriated Lilith growled.

“Limiter?!”

“Ha that’s rich imagine conservative Lilith as a courtesan..” Eda grinned as Lilith began to blush and fume.. She decided against pushing it any further given there kids in the room. “So not a noble?”

“I can’t really say Atlantean Witches were really weird about family lineage…” Luz had to resist the urge to facepalm. That ideology was so stupid.. Ceifeed had originally noticed a number of genetic illness arising from harmful genes.. He had repaired the damage, but complained about having to do it so often.. So he taught his priests how to fix the problems… Some people heard his words and went completely off the wall and started obsessing over linage and blood.. “If they knew about your ancestor originally being a human slave girl.. They’d get all twitchy.. That said no Nobles ever had them.. They were the only free mages who never wore such degrading things..”

“Ha looks like between you and me I’m the only nobility..” Eda laughed to herself.. “That said human ancestor?”

“Indeed please explain.”

“Edalin she was a first generation witch a real prodigy.. She was born human and acquired magic later in life..” Luz smiled as she thought fondly of the child. “Good kid glad to see she got to become a witch.”

“Wait Edalin the Uniter was a human slave girl?!” Lilith shouted with shock she suddenly felt lightheaded… And fainted..

“Uh Lilith?”

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“That used to happen to her a lot as kids..”

“Yeesh someone is a lightweight for heavy truths.” Luz shook her head with amusement.

“Yup.. By the way Amity your mom called I told you were spending some time with the dark lord doing some rituals here and she was welcome to pick you up but she backed off did for some strange reason..”

There was silence through the house. Amity looked afraid and worried. Her mom has come here to this place.. Her mother was always an unstoppable force of nature whenever she wanted to get something. It was the same with her father as well. Their way or no way.

“.. Uh Amity are your parents Ceifeed worshippers?” Luz questioned curiously.

“No they’re agnostic.. But, I think they may have seen your clash with Emperor Bellows so they definitely believe now…”

“Wait how would they have seen that?”

“Some activist group called anoma-witch broadcasted it on all our arcane transmissions… “ Amity smiled as she recalled the shock of her family. The twins had dropped their pancakes onto the floor Elmira cried shortly after.. Her father was aghast and shocked at the sheer gall of such an attack on the seat of their government. Her mother on the other hand she looked absolutely terrified.

“… Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Nooo!! I don’t want people using that spell!!!” Luz shouted in a panicked voice smashing her hand into the wall. She looked at the ground horrified remembering how that spell was gleefully and carelessly given to the Atlantean military branch who used to it conquer the surrounding nations.. She nearly started hyperventilating before Amity touched her shoulder.. Luz looked to Amity.. “Please tell me that words from that spell were scrubbed from the audio…”

“It actually was.. They must have known what would happen..”

“Thank goodness.. I can never use that spell again… It felt so right..” Luz looked horrified as she remembered how she felt in that moment that sadistic glee in her heart and the fear in Lilith’s eyes.. The thought of watching the life in her eyes drain away. She felt that dark magic wasn’t worth it.. “It’s so enticing, intoxicating, and I won’t use it again… And I don’t want anyone else to use it either..”

“Luz… You can’t be afraid of dark magic.. It’s literally half of all spells you use.. “ Amity invited Luz to sit with her.. Luz sighed before sitting next to the green haired witch.. “After the fall of Atlantis when the gods vanished.. Many of the the spells we witches used no longer functioned.. We were scared afraid that our powers would disappear one day yet they never did.. Magic persisted and grew stronger once more.. Eventually we discovered that much of your and Ceifeed’s energies had been infused in us and the earth.. And we learned how to mold and shape the magic you left us.. This is what mortal magic is… Yet despite it’s unpleasant origins it amazing and wonderful.. Dark magic your magic.. it’s half of what you love so much Luz.. You contributed to something wonderful so please don’t be afraid of it..”

“.. Yeah you’re right.. You know even at my worst when forced to I began to care for Edalin..” Luz perked up as she thought about all the friends that were supporting her throughout all of this. Willow, Gus, Eda, King, A-And Amity.. She looked at the green haired witch noting the gentleness and compassion.. “Thank you so much Amity..” She took of Amity tightly hugging her closely..

“You’re welcome..”

As the room was occupied with the drama no one noticed the flow of magic emanating from Lilith’s clothing. A quick concealment ward casted by the Emperor shielded his astral presence from detection.

“Well well Lilith you played your role magnificently. You were so terrified of me and concerned with warning your sister that you failed to notice the scrying sigils in your cloak..”Emperor Belos eyes glowed as he began to search for the Owl House for two things… He looked through the living room, before moving to the kitchen, and then through the various bedrooms. The Emperor would sigh in annoyance, as it turned out it seems the Owl lady kept the key on herself at all times.. But, on the other hand… The human’s device was left out on her desk.. “Little Luz you really must keep an eye on your personal effects like this.. “ He gingerly sunk a finger into the device and his mind began to tear through the meager password protection.. “Hmm Camilla Noceda..” Belos spent time his time reading through Luz’s texts learning what he could of her.

He began to laugh upon realizing that there was only one more thing necessary to force Luz into his plans.. A few minutes later he cut the connection from the scrying symbols.

The Emperor began to form a new spell using the evocative nature of Old Magic as a base for it.. “I call the one who brought forth the dawn. The one who tirelessly heals during the day and night. The blind one who does not understand the true nature of things..”

“Quaint..” Belos noted as a red circle began to form in the air before erupting into a portal.. It was unstable but it would last for his purposes.. “Let’s see..” He reached in and pulled hard retrieving a middle aged Dominican woman wearing a blue nurse’s outfit. “Ah now you must be Luz Noceda’s mother..” He smiled as a look of fear, recognition, and anger grew in the woman’s eyes at the mention of that name.

“Bastardo!! ¡¿Qué le hiciste a mi hija?!!” Camilla stopped speaking as the strange masked man began to shush her and she suddenly noticed how much bigger he was than her.. “What did you do to my daughter?! If you’ve hurt her!”

“I have done nothing of the sort, but I will if she doesn’t do exactly as I say..”

Meanwhile back at the Owl House…

Lilith woke up with a headache she was still in chains and her arms were getting pretty sore. She sighed and spun her fingers dematerializing the chains.

“Well done Lilith my faithful servant..”

“Emperor Belos… How are yo.. The Coven Brand..”

“Indeed.. You did just as I planned inform your sister and her apprentice that I have her mother..”

“Sir that’s..”

“Tell them that she will give me the key by midnight or I will have fun testing any number of lethal spells on human physiology..”

“….”

“Oh that reminds me by the way Lilith you’re fired. You can pick up anything you left behind here, but you’re no longer welcome to employment in my services.. Have fun doing whatever is you like to do in your spare time..”

“….” Lilith sat there in silence as the connection was severed.. She felt her world falling apart her hand shook as the coven glyph dissolved from her wrist. Years of sacrifice, constantly plotting, and countless hours of competing to stay at the top to be the Emperor’s most favored servant.. And this was her reward after giving him everything… A long distance banishment laced with false kindness.. Her head fell into her hands and she began to cry..

Eda Luz and Amity hearing Lilith crying approached her. They noticed she was free and Eda raised her staff, but then lowered it realizing that her tears were very much real. “Well this was awkward..”Eda really hoped this breakdown wasn’t about the deathhex she sent to Lilith’s mailbox..

“Uh Lilith?”

“I-I messed up… Belos told me I was free to go..” Lilith then slowly looked to Luz in fear.. “I never knew please believe I didn’t know..”

“What did you do?” Luz’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Lilith.

“… Belos placed several spells he was here seconds ago in astral form looking for the key.. He found the next best thing the location and name of your mother..”

“How?!”

“Even if that bonehead got that information it’s impossible for him to do anything with it..” Eda placed a calming hand on Luz’s shoulder. “Nothing will come of it.”

“You underestimate him Edalyn.” Lilith shook her head terror in her eyes. “Belos knows more about the ancient magic than most mortals.. He summoned your mother here..”

“How!! She’s not a mage, dragon, or demon?!” Luz couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her mother the woman who flinched during Halloween had a presence in the astral realm strong enough to be summoned.. How was that even possible!?

“She gave birth to you.. You are the source of all black magic.. And in order to give birth to you your mother was altered enough to survive your reemergence into this world. That’s enough magic for certain summoning rituals to work.”

“… I have to go..”

“Luz..”

“It’s my mother!!” Luz screamed.. Her eyes glowed red as she made her way to the door dark bat-like wings began to form on her back.. “I’m going to find her..”

“Stop..” Eda sighed at her apprentice’s foolish attitude.. This was a trap more than likely he was planning something the question is what.. “I’ll fly us it’ll give us time to discuss a plan.”

“Thank you Edalyn..” She gave her a relived hug her wings disappeared as they dissolved into shadow.. Luz let go slowly and began to look towards the door with worry and concern.

“Your welcome..” Edalyn reassured her apprentice gently as they all walked together towards the door.

Belos’s palace…

“Go to hell!”

“Ha.. Tell me do you know what your daughter really is?”

“I know that she’s a better person than you’ll ever be..”

“Perhaps it’s all a matter of perspective.. Shabranigdo the demon god of darkness and in the ancient world the lord of black magic and in the modern world the source of dark magic..” Belos gestured towards an ancient demonic statue with fangs, horns, wings, and ruby eyes. Camilla stared at the strange relic wondering what the ancient history of this old god had to do with her and her family. “She was one of the patron gods of ancient Atlantis and sunk it when it served it’s purpose.. It’s half of all magic part of the very fabric of our being. And I plan to control it..”

“.. What do your stories have to do with my daughter!?”

“Tell me was her birth troublesome? Where there sudden storms on that day? Did ash began to fall from the sky when it was finally over?”

“… Yes..” Camilla was stunned by this stranger listing the various events that surrounded Luz’s birth. “I don’t see what that has to do with..”

“All three occurrences are symptoms of a demonic birth.. Usually if there it’s one it’s a common demon.. two occurrence mean a demon of considerable strength. Three occurrences.. The demon god was prophesied to display all three symptoms on the hour of it’s rebirth with a human as the mother.. Shabranigdo the progenitor of the demon race..”

“… Are you saying my daughter is the devil?” Camilla scoffed.

“… To many people she would be such.. she is the original destroyer… Countless civilizations have been destroyed by the spells she created.. Such is her purpose and nature..”

“You’re insane..”

“Maybe..” Belos shrugged uncaringly. “It doesn’t mean I am not right.”

Outside Belos’s Palace…

Luz Noceda approached the Emperor’s Palace alone the numerous guards moved aside all while her very presence caused the Emperor’s various scrying spells to leave specific blank spots for her friends to exploit.. Numerous restrictive spells around Luz collapsed as she was wreathed in a crimson dark aura. Numerous Witches felt the malevolence from her and backed away in fear.. Several flowers around the palace began to crumble into ash as they aged at an accelerated rate…

Kikimora guarded the chamber the Emperor was waiting in for Luz. She shook at the sheer malevolence in Luz’s presence ancient instincts told her that this was her progenitor, her maker..

“Move aside speck..” Luz spoke with an old cruel authority in her voice ..

“.. M-My lord awaits you..” The demonic woman stuttered as she stepped aside and the door opened for the dark god.

As Luz stepped forward she sighed Amity, Eda, and Lilith would have to move fast.. Belos was powerful she could feel his presence.. It felt corrupted so twisted in a way a mortal could not be.. He was feeding on something powerful enough to give even the greatest of her old servants an impossible task.. And she was comparatively inexperienced, granted she had immeasurable knowledge as the lord of black magic, but Luz couldn’t use that knowledge reliably due to the emotional baggage.. However.. She extended a hand and imagined the fire glyph before drawing a crimson circle.. A powerful fireball grew in her palm..

“Perfect..” Luz Noceda stepped inside waking into the chamber. She began to notice two things, this room was dimly lit and that it wasn’t the throne room. Emperor Belos was seated in a chair at the end his eyes glowing blue menacingly. “Let my mother go!” She shouted with determination.