#danny remembers the customers by how their souls look

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Dead Tired Coffeeshop Accident

For one reason or another, Danny is now living in Gotham and working in a coffeeshop. For one reason or another, Tim frequents the same coffeeshop.

Now, both of them are honest to god messes who treat sleep like a grave enemy. Meaning they both survive on coffee, spite, energy drinks, and their respective hyperfocuses.

They don't even talk, really, they just see each other from time to time: Tim knows the barista who looks like he's been dead for weeks is named Danny, and Danny knows how to make Tim's Death Wish with his eyes closed, but other than that, they are just strangers who largely don't care about each other.

That is, until one time after his patrol, Tim comes to the said coffeeshop in his Red Robin gear. He doesn't even think about it, he simply needs coffee. He comes to the counter. He orders. His voice is tired and emotionless. He just wants his coffee and maybe stare at a wall for a few hours until his brain reboots. Danny takes his order without even looking at him. He has been sitting and staring at a wall for a few hours, night shifts are literally killing him.

They are both so done.

Red Robin waits for his coffee. Danny makes it almost automatically, his mind elsewhere. The coffeeshop is empty, save for them two. It's four in the morning. Nothing feels real.

Danny sets the cup on the counter.

"One Death Wish for Tim," he says out of a habit, not fully registering they are alone, and he doesn't need to do that.

Tim takes the coffee without thinking, nods a silent 'thank you'. Brings the cup up to his mouth-

And notices a glove on his own hand.

He is in Red Robin get up.

He freezes and looks at the barista, who is cleaning the coffeemachine. Danny, noticing him looking, also looks back at him. Did he make the wrong order? He knows Tim's soul, he's seen it a lot, he couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, but maybe he forgot to add syrup?..

There's a domino mask on Tim's face. A vigilante domino mask.

They stare at each other. No one moves. No one blinks. The sun is rising somewhere over the city.

Tim takes a sip of his coffee. Danny goes back to cleaning the coffeemachine.

They never speak of this again, but Tim becomes a regular here in both of his personas.

[ebonyslasher]

Them Thangs Thanging, Unfortunately

Basically, reader is a woman who has extremely large breast. Aka ME, this shit isn't for the weak. Just wanted to write about a few struggles we have. This doesn't even cover half of it.

Big Breast!Reader x Michael Myers, Daniel Lamb, Chromeskull, and Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

-----

Growing up was a struggle. 

That statement is true for many, especially during early teenhood. Middle schoolers were the most ruthless and awkward looking individuals to exist. However, there was an extra layer of struggle for the girls who had very progressive physical development(s). Specifically, those who developed their breasts early.

That was you. And unfortunately, your breast kept growing and growing. Even through early adulthood, with your weight fluctuating, your breast kept growing. They were always big, mind you. But now, as an adult, they were humongous. And what other people called a blessing, you just called a problem. Many problems at that included: 

Price

Bra’s, already, were expensive. For one piece of specialized cloth was $30 to $40. Add onto the fact that you had big breast? Oh, now the price wanted to double. Good luck if you were so big that you had to order custom. Prepare for your soul and wallet to be hurt. Custom bras can set someone back at least $100 easy!

With Michael, it was an odd situation. He would hear you complain about the price, but never understood why. He could just steal them for you, either from the store or from a victim. You, of course, didn’t want a bra from some random, especially with blood on it. EW. His plan could work if he would remembered your size...and if they even had it in store. 

Well, price wasn’t an issue with Chromeskull! He already treated you like a queen. If you wanted, he would have someone find bras for you. That way, you don’t even need the stress of looking. You find the bras lined up on a table every few months for you to pick from. What a life!

Daniel listened to your problems and saw firsthand how much they could get up to. Eyebrows shot up at the $79 bra that sat on your screen. After his missions, he would steal money or cards off corpses to give to you. You’d find a pile laying on your desk when he couldn’t stay, with a note saying ‘For your bra troubles!’ He was so sweet.

Ghostface didn’t care. He didn’t have to pay for the bras, so not his problem! He barely listens, pretending to only see any bras you might get next. Pervert. He wouldn't mind you getting a smaller bra, trying to imagine you as those anime girls wearing the smallest bikinis. 

“So you want me to look like I'm from One Piece??! Natural breasts in real life don’t work like that dummy!”

Size availability

Speaking of One Piece, it felt like you had to travel through the seven seas just to find bras in your size. Trying to find cute ones? You’re asking for the impossible. Most stores didn’t have your size. Forget about places like Victoria's Secret and especially Aerie. Lane Bryant may have your size, unless your band size is small. So, that means you have to order your bras online. Sucks, since you couldn’t try them on before buying. 

Michael stood in the store, comically looming behind you, surrounded by multicolored bras. He noticed that your posture fell as you spoke with a store worker. “Unfortunately, we don’t carry those sizes in store. We have them online and you could get it shipped here.” No thanks. It’d just be better to get something shipped to your house. You sighed in disappointment. Michael squints his eyes at the worker. Maybe he could come back and look to see what they really have in the back…

Availability was no longer a problem thanks to Jesse. Your masked sweetheart hired a personal designer that would make bras tailored to you. And you can tell them just how cute you’d like the bra to be.

A comforting hand lands on your shoulder as you relay the issue of finding your cup and band size in store. Daniel listens on as you rant, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Of course, I’d be the one with a small band size and huge ass breast!”  While you talk, he peruses the internet for different online stores that may have your size. You two curate a list of some, avidly reading any reviews that pop up.

“Oh well, hey, maybe this gives you the excuse to not wear bras anymore. Heh, I definitely won’t mind the view,” Danny joked after you told him the news. You roll your eyes and tell him to shut up. He really doesn’t care about your dilemma, pushing you to go braless, so he could see those juicy tatas bouncing. Although, if you get on him enough and promise him something nice, maybe he could magically get you some bras.

Clothing restrictions

There were certain articles of clothing that you couldn’t wear. Sad, since there were some cute looks that you just couldn’t do logistically. Bralettes and button down shirts were the devil. You saw the bralettes trending and said, “Nope. No way I could do that”. Button down shirts were deceptive. It would work up until the point the button around your breast would pop open. Understandable, since the small button couldn’t handle the pressure of holding back such big bouncing melons. You tried again one day, hoping that the designs became better throughout the years. As you walked around, the buttons popped open. The image of soft brown breast were revealed to the world in…

Michael’s steel blues, which immediately pinpoint the wardrobe malfunction. His head slowly tilts. Michael stoically ogles, secretly licking his lips as he enjoys the view. He notices your embarrassment and frustration. He feels a little bad, but that was overshadowed by the deliciousness of your reaction. He loves seeing you get worked up. He wouldn’t mind watching you bouncing around to throw a tantrum.

Jesse’s eyeless mask gleams. He raises his eyebrows at the incident. You try to button your shirt back up. The button only stays a moment before it gives up, bouncing off the shirt for the sweet release of death. The button clinks against the marble floor. You look down in disbelief as Jesse’s shoulders shake in glee. This was the funniest thing he’s seen all week!

Daniel’s zenith blue eyes pop wide open, mimicking the poor button that flew off. His face was a light shade of pink as he observed the scene. “Oh Shit…,” he whispers. Trying not to stare at your obvious malfunction, he peers up at your face that looks beautifully frustrated at the button on the ground. His eyes were full of empathy as walks over. “How about we try another shirt, huh?,” Daniel asks as he chuckles lightly.

“Hallelujah!” Ghostface shouts as he zeros in on this fantastic view. His perverted chocolate eyes were glued to your happy accident. You scoff and cover the malfunction with your hands. The view of that amazing bosom was now obscured, which angered Ghostface. He marches over right as he says, “Hey! Don’t cover those. Ghosty wants to see!”

Back pain

These breasts weighed heavy as gravity worked against your favor. Lugging around these gigantic bust meant the pull and strain against your back muscles. Those back muscles were only so strong, which would get weaker as you got older. The random aches in the upper, middle, and lower part of your back plagued your existence. You tried your best to keep good posture, but it was tiring.

Michael will rub your back if you ask. Well, only if he gets something in exchange. Dessert, you bent over, a good meal, or a new knife. You choose and it better be the right choice depending on his mood. Be warned that Michael is heavy handed as hell. His digs feel like he’s punching through your body. It might be a while before his massages become beneficial.

Jesse will hire a professional masseuse when he's on a spree. However, he would never turn down the opportunity to knead your supple muscles. You don’t mind if he goes a little lower, right Princess? He’ll also treat you with a doctor to get some treatment options going. 

Skilled and dangerous hands rub your back, the heavenly sensation of warm oil glides with every movement. Daniel, the sweet man that he is, gladly volunteers to bring you temporary relief. If he’s unable to caress your lovely form, he leaves you some pain medicine and healing meds that he comes across. The healing meds were heavenly. He, later, suggests having a reduction so you won’t have to suffer anymore.

Danny will massage you only because he wants his hands on that perfect body. And lowkey wants you to stop complaining all the time. God, it was annoying. He frequently offers to hold your breast up as you walk around. “I’ll even hold them up out in public. Just think, you’ll have your own boobie holder everywhere you go.” That shit eating grin on his handsome face didn’t faze you. Your face scrunches at his perverted comment. You take him up on the offer…only at home. You wouldn’t admit that it was a big help for your posture. You didn’t need to, Danny could tell how much it was helping by your relieved expression.

[cleolinda]

There was a post here a while back, and I can't find it now, to the effect of, "I thought 'Oingo Boingo' was just, like, 'blorbo' for bands people liked," and I love that. No, it's a real band, Danny Elfman's "art, punk, ska, rock, pop, jazz, and new wave" band—best known for, if you have to narrow it down to one song, "Weird Science."

I don't even remember how I first heard "Dead Man's Party," because it was only fairly recently, in the last couple of years—probably while I was combing Apple's Halloween playlists. It's one of my seasonal favorites now. In my head, which is the only place I would actually throw a big Halloween party, it's the song I'd kick the night off with. But not only is it festive as hell—there’s an interesting kernel of story in it. The lyrics are mostly about a narrator getting dead one way or another—

I was struck by lighting, walking down the street I was hit by something last night in my sleep

—

I got my best suit and my tie With a shiny silver dollar on either eye

—and getting ready to head off to a party "where no one's still alive." (Sidebar: the "shiny silver dollar" refers to the folk custom of placing coins on the eyes of the dead. I was surprised to discover that it may or may not have originated from the Ancient Greek practice of paying Charon with a coin on the mouth to ferry a soul; the internets are divided as to who actually puts coins on who, in which cultures, and why. Our narrator is really most sincerely dead, is my point.) And that party is great, "who could ask for more?" But then,

Don't run away, it's only me Don't be afraid of what you can't see

These lines arrive as a non sequitur; there’s no context for who the narrator is speaking to, no “but on the way, I ran into someone I knew/loved.” And yet, the entire last minute of the song (following a horns-and-guitar jam) is given over to this plaintive "don’t run away": the price of living it up after death is becoming unrecognizable to the people you cared about. There's a whole story there that's only implied—which means that there’s plenty of room to imagine what could happen next. This is Danny Elfman who wrote the songs for The Nightmare Before Christmas, after all—what would it look like, a musical about a ghost getting someone to see them and stay?

Music discussion

[stefanp1]

Usually don’t comment much about Dance Tracks but Honey Redmond's post this week reminded me of the importance of working hard and being able look back at not just the glory but the journey. I have been fortunate to have had 30 years in the music business thanks to Claussell Joaquin. Without him, I might have been stuck behind a desk at an insurance company, like I was when we met.

Where did 30 years go? In July 1993 we opened a store that turned into, 3 record labels, a merchandising company, and digital download store. It became a New York landmark for both the NY music community and collectors from around the World. Any minor business skills I may have, were cultivated over 20 years on this block dealing with everyone from the Mafia to the Hells Angels. There is fuckery everywhere, so learning to deal with masters of it was my business school. Like any 21 year old who opens a business in NYC, it was just as hard then as it is now, but we lasted a very long time because of the music we sold and the customers who bought it. Branding people go to business schools for years to try to build this, but that is like letting AI write songs, it lacks soul.

Friday afternoons were an amazing array of people from all walks of life connecting through a shared love of music and record collecting. Contrary to popular myth, the most talented folks were usually the humblest. Norman Cook or Norman Jay came and sat on those black sofas all day raising their hands when they heard something they liked. Danny Krivit always at around 9.50 pm, for his “pile”, Francois asking to pick up the needle so he could “hear that bit again”, it was fascinating to hear music the way he did and to have sold these guys and so many others, records that ended up moving dancefloors across the World.

When asking for a record the lines “Do you know who I am” or I’m a DJ do I get a discount”, were often met with the response established by Stan Hatzakis the original founder of dancetracks, “sorry mate, that is the last copy and its for Frankie Knuckles” who lived a few doors away. He often stopped in for a morning coffee and Joe and I often reciprocated when the store closed on a Friday, by going to the sound factory bar with a white label or a jam he might want to play.

To the customers who came right off work on the F train to second avenue to grab jams for their gigs, or those who just came to be turned onto a new jam, that made a shitty work week worth it. For close to 20 years that is how my weekends started. Records getting played and hands getting raised while we handed out shrink wrapped vinyl to the fiending music lovers in front of us. Anyone who played out or collected rolled by. Many of you in this group who were customers are still my close friends today. They often share messages about a record they heard or that they bought at the store or when they see a Dancetracks price sticker on a record they just picked up on Discogs. I am so grateful to everyone when they reach out, it reminds me what it was all about. Nowadays I have that same feeling when I find a record, or I am turned onto one, by somebody in a record store….forever linked and not by social media.

We had Quentin Crisp at the end of the block, Dee Pop from Bush Tetras who ran the bike messenger service in the middle of the block next to the aforementioned headquarters of the Hells Angels and Frankie Knuckles only doors away from them. When we opened there was not a drug in the world you could not buy on the block which of course brought drama, tragedy and fun.

The store had so many great staff, whose musical tastes were so influential on what went on the wall and more importantly what stayed on the wall no matter how old it was. Remember those days where your music not confined to a few hours on the front page of a website. All of these people were central to the “sound of Dancetracks” which changed with the staff. Phil Duke, Jenifa Mayanja, Kamati Pinkston, Josh Thomas, Jimmy Sky, Tyrone Francis Mickey Miguel, Tommy D Funk, Kalim Shabazz, Ramit Kreitner, June Joseph, Funmi Damian Galban and of course Jacky Sommer, all such great folks to work and listen to music with over the years. Much thanks to Augusta Quiney for such a great logo that still resonates today.

To the distributors whose stock we would hide in their warehouses so no other stores could get it, who always called us when they had something hot, you were all an extension of an ethos that was driven by great music……..never “dancefloor fillers” as they were often described by @Harry Russell, but who also knew the difference between the two.

It was a blast.

[little-pondhead]

[unedited. In this, I gave Danny a walking cane to help with mobility issues caused by his nerve damage. Feel free to continue where I left off!]

Everyone knew about the coffee shop. They couldn’t remember the name. It’s been there forever, on the corner of Gotham Proper and the East End. Northwest of the opera house. A few blocks away from the high school. You know, that coffee shop.

Some of the seniors at the high school insisted it really did have a name. It was one of many in some corporate chain. They couldn’t tell you what it was no matter how hard they tried, and none of the freshman believed them. Why would the coffee shop need a name? Everyone knew where it was. It was a popular spot. There were only a few employees at a time, but they always knew what everyone wanted and the line was always super short from how fast they worked.

There were a few odd things that always stood out, however. The coffee shop was always ahead in food trends and popular drinks, so they never ran out of supplies. The kitchen had been expanding to fit more equipment than what a coffee shop needed. (The construction crew didn’t make a peep, even in the middle of the work day.) Those few employees that could cook prided themselves on being able to make anything you wanted, even if they shouldn’t logically have the ingredients on hand. They always charged you what you could afford and not a cent over, which seemed weird considering it was part of a chain. Shouldn’t they be focusing on profits? But no one had ever met the local owner, and no one had any complaints about it, so the issue was left alone.

All of these points were easy to look over. Most people were just glad to have a warm drink and a filling meal at the end of the day.

There was…one more thing, however. Something that caused the hairs on people’s necks to rise as soon as they crossed the threshold, right before the warmth of the shop hit them, brushing the feeling away. Something that called for them to come back, to relax, to be kind and quiet. Something that was a waiting danger in a cursed city.

That something was a boy.

He was by far the youngest employee there, and always worked the register, sitting on a little stool with a cane by his side. Probably wasn’t even of legal working age. But this was Gotham; who the hell cared?

No, what made him strange was his piercing eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul. He was the best at telling you what you needed, no matter if you knew it yourself or not. His cold hands made people shiver as he exchanged money with them, and his voice was smooth when he asked for their name.

People gave it to him without hesitation. He would smile gently, say thank you, and write the name in horrible cursive on a cup or kitchen ticket, never misspelling it, and sending it back to be made before beckoning the next customer forward. The first time someone experienced this, they usually experienced some sort of foggy overstimulation as they wandered to the pick up counter, thanking the kind baristas. Everything felt bright and strange and loud, like they were just plopped into another world.

The second time was easier, and they often felt light as a feather. The third time made people sneeze. The fourth made them cry, and the fifth made them happy. This tended to go on up until a person’s twelfth visit. As soon as they gave their name for the twelfth time, a few things clicked into place, and a few slipped away. It was always a special visit, whether they knew it or not, and they never walked out of there the same.

Today was Tim’s twelfth visit.

The commute to the coffee shop was the same. He’d memorized it months ago, even though he hadn’t had the chance to go as often as he’d liked. The shop was always neat and tidy on the outside, and he took a strange comfort in the split second feeling of fear that shot through his system as he opened the door.

Something felt wrong, why was he happy to be afraid?

“Hello! Nice to see you, Tim!” The boy was at the counter again, smiling widely and waving to Tim.

Tim smiled back and approached the register. “Hey, uh, how are you today?”

Why don’t I know his name? He’s wearing a name tag.

“Doing okay so far. My cane was being an ass, but I made it to work safely.” The boy tapped away at the menu, apparently ringing up Tim’s order.

I haven’t even told him what I want.

“Don’t worry about what you want, this is what you need, Tim.”

“Oh, okay.” Tim felt a little floaty. Of course the boy knew what he needed, it was obvious. Man, how tired was he? Tim rubbed his eyes and turned away for a second.

Blinking, he scanned the shop with fresh eyes, noticing things he never did before. The boy’s cane was made of wood, with an ugly face carved into it. Wasn’t it a black metal cane earlier? Some of the windows were casting rainbows despite the lack of sun. It smelled of ash despite no fireplace existing. A jackhammer was going off in the unfinished kitchen literally thirty feet away, but no noise was being made and no dust was in the air.

Something isn’t right.

The boy poked his arm, a cheeky grin on his face and a blue marker in hand. “Can I have your name?”

“Tim.”

A violent shiver ran up his spine as his name rolled off his tongue. It felt like he just got shoved to the side by a gust of cold wind. The boy-Danny-didn’t notice as he stuck his tongue out and drew little shaky stars around his name on a cup.

His name is Danny. That’s what the name tag says.

He blinked, moving to the side in a daze so the next customer could come forward. Were the lights in the shop always so bright? No, it wasn’t the lights. It was Danny. He practically glowed under the cheap fluorescent. His ears were pointed, and his teeth were sharp as he bared silly grins at everyone. His eyes were green now, too. Or were they always green?

They weren’t.

A barista behind Danny turned to grab a lid and he spied sparkling dragonfly wings cascading down her back, right out in the open. Another had longer ears than Danny did, and a third had actual metal disks braided into their hair. Almost everyone behind the counter was very much not human.

Why didn’t I notice this before?

The shop changed, too. Artistic scribbles on the walls became lines of swirling script-the same kind Danny had written on his name tag. He would need a notebook and a few days to properly read it all. More and more customers seemed to warp behind his very eyes. Every time Danny greeted them by name, they both glowed a little brighter. One little girl had scales on her face. An old man was sporting a pair of rat ears that twitched as he enjoyed a grilled cheese.

His skin suddenly felt itchy. He scratched absentmindedly at his hand, a little unsure of what was going on. He had the sudden urge to go stargazing.

“Hot chocolate for [ ]!”

His feet were moving before he realized. The barista smiled as she handed him a to-go cup of hot chocolate and a bag with a blueberry muffin.

I don’t want a hot chocolate. I need coffee. I have a meeting later.

As if hearing that tiny thought, Danny smiled mischievously to him and waved as he took his food and left. “It’s not about what you want; it’s about what you need! You’re gonna crush that meeting either way. See you next time, Tim!”

The itching got worse.

He felt his neck hairs raise again as the bell chimed, announcing his departure. Stepping back into the hustle and bustle of Gotham shocked him, and he had to wander over to a bench to sit for a moment.

He stared at the cup in his hands. T I M was written, with shitty little stars drawn all around. This drink was special, he somehow knew. If he drank from this, something in him would change forever. It already had, but this drink was important. He considered, briefly, about not drinking it. About tossing the cocoa and muffin away. Something wiggled at him to go through with it.

But Danny said he needed this.

Danny was always right.

He sipped the cocoa, letting the hot liquid settle into his body and soul. It eased aches and pains he didn’t remember getting, and he sighed, closing his eyes. He lost himself to the moment of peace the drink gave him.

If this wasn’t his twelfth visit, or if he’d waited a day to visit the coffee shop and come with the Laughing Magician instead, the boy on the bench would still know what his own name looked like. He would know what it sounded like. He wouldn’t be glowing and growing feathers, turning into something other than human.

But now the deed was done, and the heir to the Drake family belonged to Danny Phantom, the newest Lord to join Gotham’s magical courts.

Danny is a Fae at Starbucks

So! Danny works by Fae Rules, Names and all, but he has no idea about that because he was forced to run away from Home (and the Ghost portal) before his Ghostly Education could be completed.

He runs to Gotham and eventually gets a job at Starbucks, or some other Cafe.

He has to ask the question "Could I get your name please?" A LOT while working there. And unintentionally steals hundreds of Names by the end of his first day, much less a week or a month into his job.

One day, Constantine visits Gotham for a Meeting with Batman, but by the time he gets to the Meeting Point he has bigger issues to discuss.

"Why the hell does half of your City belong to a Fae Lord?!"

[gustingirl]

the words pt.1 | s.kiszka x reader

"And I know the scariest part is letting go, 'Cause love is a ghost you can't control"

- in which you live a different kind of fairytale -

request: Could you possibly do one with prompt # 14, 48, and 51 with either josh or Sam??? If not that’s fine too :) it can be literally anything just make it heartbreaking and angsty.

part 1: [x]

part 2: [x]

taglist: @starchords @the-chaotic-cow @obetrolncocktails @theweightofstardust @tlexx @eeeloraaa @kaylal15 @parodsal000 @golden-van-fleet @gretagolden @dreamsoffilm @thatcatbsong @stardustchorus @ageofflowerpower @blayze-it

There’s not one thing in this world that hurts more than watching as the person you love the most decides you’re not as important to them anymore. And that was your case, at this very exact moment.

How can you handle a relationship that has been going on for centuries? How can you keep that ship on float all by yourself? A relationship has always been a 50 and 50, right? It’s impossible to carry it on your own. But you were willing to do it, you really were willing to do it for Sam.

How could you not, anyways? He was the love of your life after all. He had always been the man you were in love with, deeply, truly in love with. Sam was all you had ever asked for, all you have ever wanted.

And imagine this: you met by complete, pure destiny. Can a single human soul truly detach itself from the person Fate has chosen for them?

It all started with a broken bass.

��What was that noise?” Jake asked as soon as the music shut down. All the instruments being played had stopped simultaneously upon the sound of something breaking down

“I thought it was…Sam” Josh commented while looking around.

And it was true. Sam was confused as he took a look at his bass that was not making one correct sound anymore. Any chord he tried playing would sound completely wrong and yet he was clueless at the origin of the issue.

Without waiting long, the band’ bassist began a tiring tour around Nashville trying to find a music store that could fix the issue upon him. A very important concert was approaching and yet nobody seemed to know what the bass had.

“What do you mean you can’t fix it?” was Sam’s repeated answer to every single music store employee in front of him

The incognita was only bothering Sam with each second passed, and it was thanks to Danny remembering one more store near the area that Sam didn’t give up completely.

“Hello” he greeted politely as he approached the cashier “I have a problem that nobody seems to be able to fix and I’m only growing more desperate”

“Sure, let me call the expert” the cashier announced as he grabbed a walkie-talkie “Thing three, come to the front”

Sam’s eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Thing three?”

“Yeah” the red haired cashier pointed at the neon sign above the entrance that read the words ‘The Things’ in bright red “We are the music things. I’m thing number one, cashier. Thing number two is the instrument expert, she sells them all. Thing number three is our luthier, thing number four has the customer service skills to deal with the younger buyers and thing number five is just around for whatever we need”

Sam’s curiosity was off the roof. He had never noticed the existence of this place and, despite having visited plenty of other shops, this one just had a different atmosphere that felt warmer than any other place he had ever seen.

And then you showed up.

He thought he was dreaming when his eyes landed on your figure. You were making your way towards the front desk, wearing a tight, tank top black dress and carrying some weird glasses on your head. You seemed distracted, yet your smile was blinding. He knew then his heart had made a decision.

Sam watched as you took something from a little package you were carrying, and placed that brown something in your coworker’s mouth the moment you walked by her. Once you were standing in front of Sam on the other side of the counter, your eyes met his.

And you too knew then that you had found what your heart had been searching for. Sam was all you have ever looked for in a person; he was what music has always been about.

“Pocky?” you asked suddenly, bringing the man back to Earth

“Sam” he presented himself, unsure of what you were talking about. The little laughter you replied with made the bassist lose sanity even more

“No, I mean, do you want Pocky?” you asked, now retreating another something from that package

“I don’t know what that is” Sam was a giggling mess as he had no idea how to talk to you without feeling nervousness taking over his body and voice

“Try it”

You approached the little candy (or at least that’s what Sam thought it was) to his mouth. He only dared to take one bite and that was enough for you. As you watched him eat your candy, you finished the little stick by yourself. Your smile grew as so did his.

“It’s a cookie? With chocolate?”

“Yeah!” you giggled before continuing “It’s a japanese snack, it’s a cookie in a thin shape bathed in chocolate. It’s my favorite”

There was a cute, small silence in between you two after you finished speaking. Like Sam was trying to absorb every single thing about you and your essence, and you were allowing yourself to fall for a customer, something you had promised yourself never to do.

“It’s really delicious” he finally answered after a while

“Oh, your bass! Please, what is it?” you suddenly changed the topic as you felt your cheeks glow red.

“Right, my bass. Well, it made a weird noise and then it never worked well again. I don’t know what it is but nobody seems to know how to fix it”

The desperation in Sam’s voice was truly heartbreaking. You could feel the attachment he had with the instrument and music in general, and so with a smile you answered.

“Three days”

“What?”

“In three days I have it fixed for you”

Sam’s small smile only lasted a few seconds.

“Three? I have a concert in two days, can’t you have it earlier?”

Truth was, you had a million other requests back in your lab (you hated the word ‘workshop’). In reality, you should have never given Sam priority over customers who appeared first. But if doing it gave you the chance of seeing Sam soon again, then you were willing to break the rules for once.

You managed to fix the impossible in the time given, though it took you a lot of sleep time. You arrived at Sam’s venue basically running down the streets with his bass in hand. The crowd outside the building made you realize this man was more famous than you had expected. You made it to the staff’s door within seconds.

“I need to see Sam” you announced, soon gaining a little push from the security man.

“No fans allowed, I’m sorry”

“I’m not a fan, sir. I have something for him” you were a bit disconcerted but you had your own attitude to fight back

“That’s what they all say” he replied with a smirk, before rolling his eyes and looking away.

“Alright, if you don’t want the band to perform, fine! Because I don’t know what they will be able to do without Sam’s bass”

When you raised the instrument in the air, several gasps were released from behind you. Apparently, the bassist’s instrument was pretty iconic and fans recognized it quickly. This new support made the rough security guard sigh before allowing you in.

You rushed like you had never done it before towards the room the man had indicated Sam was at. And, as expected, you found the tall long haired boy walking around nervous without an instrument in hand.

“Sam!” you cried as soon as you stepped inside the room, agitated like you had run across the country

“Thing three!” he called out, frustration leaving his body and confusion taking over everybody else’s.

“Did he call her thing three?” Josh whispered to Jake who, obviously, was as baffled as his twin brother

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get it any time sooner. But you said 9pm was fine” you tried speaking in between breaths.

“It’s 8:58, you’re fucking amazing” the bassist spoke with excitement as he took the instrument in his hand and tried it out. The sound it made was like music to his ears “It’s perfect!”

You smiled with joy as you rested your hands on your knees, allowing your body to finally relax. When you tried getting up, your body got caught suddenly. Sam’s hug was the tightest you had ever had before, and it soon became a vice for you. You hugged back instantly, feeling his body relax within your arms.

“Thank you so much, my angel”

The pet name felt like something was elevating you in the air. Your body was shaking from the emotions he was giving you, but then he pulled away when he heard Danny speak.

“Guys, we can’t wait anymore, let’s go!”

As the members began abandoning the room, you had to stop Sam.

“Sorry! I need the payment!” you asked

“Wait here! I’ll give you everything after the show”

The last words were yelled by the bassist as he was almost climbing the stage. You sighed loudly, feeling the tiredness from sleepless nights and a long run taking over your body. Upon the sight of a long, comfortable couch you couldn’t help but lie down. Your body was thankful as you did, and soon your eyes were closed and your mind was blank while sleep began possessing you.

By the time you woke up, the room was soon crowded again. It wasn’t a loud noise or chattering what made you open your eyes; it was the feeling of a hand stroking your hair.

You opened your eyes and instantly looked up. Those two brown eyes that had made you lose control back in the store were staring back at you in the most loving way possible. His soft smile was once more decorating his face, so contagious like before that you could only smile wider.

“Good morning, my angel” he joked softly, his voice low so only you could hear

“That pet name again” you replied as you scrubbed your eyes

“It’s because you truly are my guardian angel”

It was the way this man would speak his words that made your entire body feel them. His voice was really like pure honey and you could only wonder how you had never heard him talk before. Sam was the true medicine you were needing.

“All I did was repair your instrument” you sat back, tiredness still present in your body

“No, you saved my night. You saved my career, well really my life” he truly sounded grateful, sincere. You couldn’t believe how easily he was making you fall for him

“There’s a way of thanking me, you know?” you hated being so persistent but you couldn’t let it slip; your work had to be paid for.

“About that…..how much is it?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow. His hands went soon to your hair once more, this time playing with a hair strand hanging by your face. He made it twirl with his finger, his eyes fixated on the movement.

“120 dollars” you replied, and you waited for him to reply after a little pause

“You know…that’s how much a dinner for two is worth near the venue. Do you think I can use that payment mode?” his smile was now shaped into the sexiest smirk you had ever seen

“I don’t think my store uses that payment mode, really” you tried fighting back the urge but there was not much you could as his eyes abandoned your hair to then look back at you, directly into your eyes

“Is there any chance you could make an exception? For me?”

And for him you did it. And you made several other exceptions. You allowed more dates to happen, you allowed him to have your personal phone number, you allowed him to openly flirt with you. The only thing this man did not have was your name. And he realized this one random afternoon, when his brothers pointed out how he never mentioned your name. The sudden curiosity hit him so hard he had to make a visit at your store.

Sam was the only one who had the password to your lab. You had taken the store’s basement to turn it into your workshop. But many accidents led to customers walking in, sometimes on purpose though. It was your own safe place and the idea of strangers violating your privacy made you feel uncomfortable. Therefore you had installed a security system that required a password to enter the place, and Sam was the only one who had it (except for your coworkers, obviously).

You knew by then who he was by only the sound of his steps down the stairs.

“Sammy?” you called his name, though your back was facing him

“You really can tell it’s me by my steps” it was more of a statement, as Sam still found it amusing.

You didn’t reply as you were completely concentrating on the broken piano in front of you. Fixing it was taking you longer than expected and you were very frustrated by then. But the sudden warmth you felt behind your back brought you back to the real world for a moment. Two arms hugged your torso and a chin rested on your shoulder. The new body sat behind you on the piano’s seat and held you close to it. You smiled at his presence, his soul connecting with yours instantly.

“Your visit is a gift” you commented, feeling your body shake as he giggled at you

“Your existence is a gift for me”

It was completely surprising how he never said the same thing twice. You imagined by now that he would compliment you like a normal lover would, like a normal person would. But he was a box full of surprises and you were excited to open it every day.

“Why thing number three?” Sam suddenly questioned as your hands went back to work

“I like the number”

“No, I mean why things? Why not people?”

His question made you once stop working. Your body had gotten far from him so you could continue working but now you pushed it back once more, letting your body rest against his chest. His chin had abandoned your shoulder so his face would be close to your ear now. You could feel his breath bathing your neck as his hands stroked your stomach over your shirt in the softest way possible.

“It allows us to maintain distance with customers. It breaks any possible attachment. It’s also fun and different” your hands joined his, though yours were caressing the skin of his hands

“I don’t think there’s much distance between us” he half joked, making you giggle

“I don’t want there to be any distance between us, really” you confessed, your eyes stuck on the piano as you allowed your truth to be released

“Then may I know your name, my angel?”

You took a deep breath, knowing the importance the step you were about to take had.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N”

You could feel his charming smile against your cheek, just before he placed on that same spot the most tender kiss ever.

“My angel has a name, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard”

You could feel yourself wanting to cry at just the simplest words he had ever said. You closed your eyes, letting your mind, heart and soul take into the beautiful moment you were living.

“I should be working, Sammy” there was a lot of truth in your words, though you mostly wanted a break. It was so overwhelming you had no idea how to deal with so much love

“Your job’s done, angel” he replied into your ear, that honey his voice had now traveled through your body, making your skin be painted in goosebumps.

“This piano is not done”

“Let me see that”

And then Sam took your hands in his and the world stopped spinning. And then he brought both of your hands to the piano tiles and your breathing stopped. And then your fingers played the most beautiful melody along with his and your heart had an epiphany.

You had fallen in love.

The feeling was so surreal you believed this was truly a dream. His breathing against your neck, his hands holding yours with so much dearness, his body embracing yours. It was all too much to take. His eyes found yours and the distance was so short that you felt your soul fighting for its life and sanity.

“Don’t make me kiss you” you spoke in the lowest whisper you had ever released

“Then I’ll do it”

The moment was sealed with the most perfect kiss ever. The soft skin of his lips burned your soul and the feeling was too delicious, too satisfying. You could never get enough of this, you knew it then. His hand left the piano to hold your face with nothing but pure tenderness, his thumb tracing little circles over your cheek. His other hand lied on your thigh, his nails sometimes scratching over your pants as he seemed to want more. Your hands were fighting for their lives, working their way to bring him closer to you. And when his tongue asked for permission, you knew it was over for you. There was no point of return after allowing him in, as you hadn’t only allowed his tongue to enter your mouth; you had allowed him to enter your heart.

Your most sacred piece of you now had an owner and you were aware of it. A spell had been casted on you and this man was now all you cared about, all you lived for; he was all you loved and wanted for the rest of your life.

So tell me, how can you live your life knowing the man you had promised to only love didn’t want you around anymore?

The Sam you were crazy for, the Sam you wanted to have by your side was not the one you woke up next to every day. And he hadn’t been that Sam in a long time.

You could have never guessed his future back then. That venue you met was small, insignificant for a big artist. But he wasn’t a big artist then like he was now. And you weren’t his own concern anymore. There were fans he worried about, money he wanted every day more, fame that had consumed every bit of his innocence. You were no longer holding in your arms a dreamer with a goal and a bass. Your lover was now a man with more than one road in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t take it.

The feeling of losing someone you treasure so much can truly kill someone. You were sure of it by now, as you felt your heart beating slower every day passing. How can you smile when your touch is rejected by the man that could bring goosebumps to your skin with only the mention of a pet name? How can you live when your lover doesn’t call you by anything but your name? How do you continue by your man’s side when he doesn’t want you there anymore?

So many questions had formed inside your head as you now were facing Sam once more, the fifth fight of the week.

“Please, Y/N, leave!” he asked one more time, rage controlling his heart once more

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me!” you cried back, your tears ruining your makeup once more, yet he was unfazed

“I don’t have anything to say to you. Leave me alone” his voice was lower by the end of the sentence, and yet you heard him loud and clear

“Don’t you trust me anymore, my love? I’m your angel, the one who saved your life. I know I can do it again” you were hanging from a thread but you were willing to fight

“I don’t think you can save me anymore. I don’t think you ever did”

Sam was aware of how he was hurting you, but nothing inside of him would allow him to stop.

“You don’t believe that” you were in pure denial, though deep down you knew he was right

“I’m better off without you”

A shot straight into your heart, caused by nothing but a lie. Sam knew the truth; you were the one better off without him. But his pride was strong, his ego even stronger, and his inability to express himself was much stronger than anything else.

“No” was all you could say, your heart aching too much that your brain couldn’t work anymore

“Leave”

His eyes were not even looking at you anymore, yet yours were stuck on his body. So many years of spells on you, so many years of promises and love confessions, so many years of songs and poems dedicated to you. Yet he was never sincere. He was never open to you, you knew it. You had been told, even by himself, just how hard it was for Sam to let someone in. His own brothers couldn’t get through him completely. What even made you believe you could ever do it?

“You can’t keep doing this”

“What am I doi-”

“SHUTTING ME OUT!”

You knew yelling was not gonna make him open up more. You believed then there was a history to this, as Sam would only shut himself out more whenever a voice was raised. But there wasn’t much you could control of yourself anymore. You once had said Sam was the only one capable of making you lose control and you were confirming your own statement right there.

“I’m not shutting you out. I never let you in”

What was going on with him? Was he gaining some excitement over breaking your heart?

There were answers to your questions that only lived sealed inside Sam’s mind. And his answers were pretty clear: he loved you so much he was afraid of doing so. There was so much he wanted with you and he feared he couldn’t give them to you. The love you two had for each other was as overwhelming for him as it was for you. But you could handle it; this was medicine for your broken soul. It was all Sam had ever wanted, but he couldn’t let you in. If it was hurting you now, later it would only kill you. Sam knew, he really did know he couldn’t love you now.

But why not communicate it as he should? He had always been so good with words when it came to you, what was going on now? Why couldn’t he say that to you?

“You never let me in, you’re right” you had no idea how you could still talk, the knot in your throat was taking every single breath you tried having “You had me standing at the door, waiting for you everyday. And I waited with happiness, Sam. I wanted to do it. I loved waiting for you, and I will always wait for you. But you know what? I’m human. You called me an angel for so long that you made me forget I am made of flesh. I am not a celestial being that flies around, helping others. I am a human being that fell in love with another human being. And my heart can only take enough. I worked hard, I really did work hard to love you. I’ve never loved anyone before and yet I was willing to do it once and for all, only for you. And you casted spells you couldn’t control and now I’m hurting because of you. The same man that made me lose myself, that made me forget about myself is kicking me out of his life because he can’t open a single door. One door is all I’m asking you. Is that really too much to ask? After everything that happened, am I really asking for too much?”

Not even with his entire strength could Sam find the words to respond. His stare was nailed to the floor, his hand resting on the amp decorating the studio. You were in disbelief as he, for the first time since you two met, was speechless.

“Fine. Just let me ask you one more thing, ok?” you inhaled all the buggers and tears you could so you were aware of talking one more time, in the calmest tone ever “Because if I walk away, if I cross this room’s entrance, I am never coming back, Sam. You know I am a person of words, and you are the very first witness of how I keep my promises. So, let me ask you this last thing. Do you want me to leave?”

At best, you would get an actual answer. Such a thing could be as good as a ‘No, never leave my side’ or as hurtful as a ‘Yes, never come back’. But at least you would have a word to give closure to your already broken heart. At worst, and not as surprising, you would get a painful, piercing silence. Either way, you would survive.

But all Sam did was stare right into your eyes. Your vision was so blurry due to your everlasting crying, yet his eyes were drier than ever. The way his eyes were perforating your soul was not even as painful as his expression was. It was the lack of it that truly made your heart break into hundreds of millions of pieces.

The one man that had owned your heart for years, that made you unacknowledge yourself for the sake of love was staring right into your soul. Words or silence even would hurt less. But he was speaking with stares. He was speaking with his two eyes and he was saying more than any mouth could ever say.

You bit your lip, the need to break down starting to grow speedily inside your soul. Before he could see it, you turned around, with only determination in your mind.

You were never going to come back to Sam.

thanks for requesting! also thanks for reading, guys, ily <3

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Three: If We Have Each Other.

~When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine. I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand. You should know I'll be there for you. I will always be there for you~

"Dude, we are in some serious jelly," I proclaimed as I paced around the small perimeter of the tree house.

"And that jam!" Isaac added from where he remained sitting at the table.

"Tight spot."

"Indeed!"

"Up a tree!" I supplied.

"Lost in the grass!" He offered. I swung around, shaking my finger at him.

"I'll tell ya what's grass, our- AAH FRACKLES!"  I had stepped on a stray nail in one of the floorboards. Hobbling my way back into my chair, I thunked my head against the table.

"But look at the bright side." Isaac leaned back in his chair. "Seeing as how our grand-theft-hairbrush is going viral and all, there is still a chance that me flipping the camera off could become a meme!" He pointed out. Slowly, I raised my head to stare at him.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Consider it, Marty! All it took was five years being dead and now I'm finally fulfilling my life-long dream! If I'd known it was this easy, I would have killed myself a long time ago and spared me all that drama and emotional damage," Isaac smirked. I shook my head, my gaze drifted back to the Vader figure and snow globe sitting side-by-side on the shelf.

"Please don't talk like that Isaac," I sighed. Isaac's face fell.

"Sorry, I-I wasn't thinking," He apologized. I nodded.

"It's okay." It wasn't, but what more could be said when you didn't want to speak?

"Hey," Isaac spoke softly, ducking his head to get me to look at him, "Even if things go sour, I'm gonna be here for you. Just like I promised. Through thick and thin, remember?"

"Through thick and thin."

Smiling weakly, I repeated our life long mantra. I took a deep breath and focused back in on the problem.

"Alright, man. We gotta figure out a game plan. That video is gonna bring every hunter and their mom up here to ice our, or my, gluteus maximus. And if they know about the minimart then they know about the hospital. So, what's our play?"

"Well, I say you use your Sweet-Talkin' thing and talk any o'those alcoholic weirdos out of it," Isaac suggested. I shook my head.

"Isaac, you know how much I hate doing that."

Although it was a tempting idea, that wasn't something I wanted to mess with. If you start playing with the dark things, the dark things start playing with you. That wasn't a concept I liked, but Isaac would never understand that.

"I'm just saying it’s an option! And an easy one at that," Isaac pushed. I glared at him.

"I'm not doing that."

"It might come to it, Marty. I'm just saying as a plan C it-"

"The answer is no! Moving on." My tone killed and buried the subject. Isaac raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine. But misinformation is still our strongest tool. We should use it. Tell anybody who asks that it was all done on a computer," He conceded.

"Alright, that's plan A. What's plan B?"  Isaac's face twisted in thought. I let him do any and all planning when it came to telling a lie because he was so much better at making it convincing than I was. Isaac was the king of spouting believable bull crap. In fact, he would have made and excellent demon. That guy could probably get an angel to sell its soul for a box of holy doughnuts. When the idea hit Isaac's brain, I could almost see a light bulb light up above his head. He leaned forward, exited.

"Okay, I got it. We make up some BS story about a gay black dude who got chopped up by the ferry or something and the hospital wouldn't help him because all the doctors were racist homophobes, and it was the 50's." He nodded at me very seriously. Like I said, Isaac was king.

"That's is the worst, most ridiculous and stupid story I have ever heard," I told him. Isaac's nodding grew more excited. "It's perfect. They'll buy every word. Just one thing though, what about the mini-mart?" I pointed out.

Isaac opened his mouth before closing it again. Then he opened it. Then he closed it. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. This happened several more times before he finally came up with something good.

"So, our gay black guy was also a nice hobo dude and after he died he started stealing crap to give to his hobo buddies." Isaac gave me a thumbs up. I nodded.

"Okay, sounds good, sounds good. How do we explain me?" I splayed my hands. Isaac huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back again and tucking his hands behind his head.

"Well, that’s easy. The camera never even caught a glimpse of your face, so you're his anonymous theft buddy slash item distributer!" He explained. I grinned at my fantastic phantasmal co-conspirator.

"Excellent, and of course nobody knows who the thief is. Especially not, innocent little me!" I chuckled at his brilliance.

"Exactly!" Isaac smirked.

"It's perfect! Except one last thing. We're gonna need some eyes and ears in on this. Someone to alert us when someone fishy comes lurking about," I said. Isaac nodded seriously.

"You're right. But who can we trust around here?" He asked. I could feel the smile split across my face.

"I can think of only one man for this job. A man as trustworthy as he is slimy. A man scrubbed clean by his own filth. A man so wonderful, words do him no justice!" I declared dramatically. Isaac was confused for a moment before realization dawned. His face fell.

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"I think I am." I grinned. Isaac just sighed.

"Marty, no."

"Marty, yes!"

- 45 minutes later-

"Yo! Danny, my man! How's life?" I called out. Dan-the-Dope-Man looked up from...whatever it was he was doing outside Copper Harbor's one and only pharmacy. The pharmacy which he, in fact, owned. Honestly, I didn't want to know exactly what he had been doing behind the pile of cardboard boxes that were stacked up against the moldy brick. I figured it was better if I didn't. Dan smiled a grin that was missing two teeth.

"Marty! My worst customer and only friend! Life's good!" He greeted me, kicking a few of the boxes over to hide whatever suspicious activity it was that he had been up to. He winked and walked over to me, pushing his absolutely disgusting blond hair out of his face. "But, you know, business is betta'," He concluded.

I could never tell how tall Dan was, in this form especially. See, Dan-the-Dope-Man was a shapeshifter, though of course, no one else in the town knew that. That's how he was the owner of the pharmacy as well as a drug dealer. His other form, Jonathan De’ Santos, was the tall, 40-year-old, honest-looking Hawaiian man that ran the pharmacy. In this form, however, Dan was a somewhere-in-the-upper-five-foot-range Caucasian guy from Brooklyn with a thing against bathing. He said that the grungy, sewer-rat look was better for his side business. I wasn't sure how much of that I bought, but then again, who's gonna buy drugs from the guy who's supposed to make sure you don't destroy yourself with them.

"I bet it is!" I said, taking a step back when he reached me because, like I said, the guy had a thing against hygiene.

"This is a terrible, terrible idea," Isaac muttered, leaning on the wall to my left. I couldn't reply to him because although Dan knew what I was he didn't know about Isaac. So all I could do was give him a rude gesture behind my back. He saw it and stuck his tongue out at me.

"What can I do fo' ya, Marty?" Dan always pronounced my name as 'Mawty' at least in this form as it had a Brooklyn accent.

"Well, o' Danny boy, I have some rather bad news to deliver," I continued, "There might be some hunters coming to town soon."

Dan frowned; his eyes narrowed at me as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, that ain't good. Whatt'id ya do, Marty?" He asked. Sometimes Dan could be like my older brother, even if he didn't realize it.

"Woah, woah, woah! Who said I did anything?!" I defended. Dan just raised an eyebrow.

"You're always showin' off and ya know it," He said simply.

"He's right, you know," Isaac interjected. I wished I could tell him to shut his eidolic cake hole. It wouldn't have made much of a difference if I could, as he would still have continued talking, but the principle remained the same. Isaac was annoying. He needed to shut his mouth now and again. But I couldn't say that right now because he was a flipping ghost and ghosts are invisible. Mostly.

Ignoring Isaac, I opened my mouth to try to argue with Dan but quickly closed it again when found that I couldn't, because he was absolutely right. Now, I couldn’t admit that to him because Isaac was right here and that would be saying that he was right about something, and that was a thing I would never hear the end of.

"In regards," I started again.

"You'd just say 'regardless'," Isaac chimed in. I had to physically bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him to shut up.

"Regardless," I corrected. Isaac chuckled. I really needed to get myself some iron gauntlets or something so I could give his apparitional arse an involuntary appendectomy. Or just an iron ring so I could punch him in the face.

"Regardless, it wasn't me. This time. It was some attention seeking moron with a computer. That combined with my little hospital trips and you get something fishy looking." I finally managed to finish my sentence without Isaac chiming in.

"Well then ya betta' keep ya head down, Marty. I don' wan' ya gettin hurt." A dark look crossed over Dan's usually upbeat face. "Or worse," He finished.

"I know Danny, which is why I need you to do something for me," I said. Isaac sighed and face palmed but I ignored it.

"What?" Dan asked.

"I need you to watch out for any newcomers asking weird questions. I've got a plan if any hunters get too close to us, I just need to know who and where they are," I told him.

See, the pharmacy, the mini-mart, the bar, and the barber shop all sat across from each other at a four way intersection. Thus, Dan would have an excellent view of any hunter's first two targets. The origin of the supernatural activity, in this case the mini-mart, and the bar. He would be the perfect spy. Dan looked at me strangely.

"Say, Marty, you ain't plannin' on gankin' any a' dose' suckas' now are ya?" He asked, caution evident in his voice. I sighed, shaking my head internally. This was just another downside of being what I was. Everybody thinks you're a murderer. Though I knew I was far from innocent, I had never killed anyone. At least, anyone who didn't deserve it.

"Come on, Danny. In all the time you've known me, have I ever, er, ganked anyone?" I asked him, spreading my hands as if to catch the obvious answer.

"Well, no. But people can change," Dan pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

"Dan, I'm not gonna kill anyone. There, ya happy?" I said, only mildly aggravated. Isaac decided it was time to speak up again.

"You may not. But I will. If it comes to that. I won't let anybody hurt you, Marty. Not again. Not when I can do something about it."

I knew he was saying this now so I wouldn't be able to argue with him. Then I would forget and if he did kill someone Isaac would say he'd said he would. I ground my teeth together and reminded myself that it wasn't going to come to that. I wouldn't let it.

Meanwhile, Dan thought about what I'd spoken aloud.

"Yeah okay, but if anybody comes sniffin' I'm skippin', kay?" He agreed. I nodded.

"Okay, take care of yourself, Danny."

"You too, Marty." I smiled at him and began to walk away. Isaac pushed himself off the wall and trudged behind me, complaining loudly.

"Make sure you take care of yourself too, Issac! I'd hate myself if anything happened to you, Isaac! I wouldn't be able to survive without you, Isaac! Thanks Marty, your friendship means everything to me!" He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Ugh! Why do I even bother?"

I smirked giving him the sign for 'I love you' behind my back.

"Aw shut up!"

But I knew he was smiling.

~So, I'm thankful for my sister even though sometimes we fight When high school wasn't easy, she's the reason I survived. I know she'd never leave me and I hate to see her cry. I just wanna tell her that I'm always by her side. I just wanna tell her that...

The worlds not perfect, but it’s not that bad. If we've got each other and that’s all we have I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you.

I will always be there for you.~

Lyrics from: If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin

[cjsmalley]

Ghost Customs:

(TW: Discussions of Pedophilia and rape)

“Hey, King Babypop!” Ember led the parade of ghosts coming towards them, “We come in peace; heard ya had a baby now. The others and I got gifts, like we did with your Neverborn.”

Danny stood down warily, motioning for his guard to do the same, “You guys really didn’t—”

“We wanted ta, Kid,” Johnny spoke for everyone as all the ghosts made for the ground.

“My goodness!” Lunch Lady exclaimed at the sight of such a little baby human, “my goodness. And someone just Sold him to you?”

Danny, Sam, and Tucker all nodded tiredly.

The ghosts looked murderous; Selling Souls was not to be done lightly and for a child, a baby to be Sold.

Thank the Ancients it wasn’t to the Tyrant King.

“Does he have any ecto in him?” Spectra ask in interest, looking over her glasses at the baby.

“A little but it’s rancid,” Danny nodded, “Mom, Dad, and Frostbite all think the regular pure stuff, from Amity itself, will clear whatever he was dumped in…or whatever his birth-mom was dumped in. Whatever it is, it’s just plain nasty. He’s also getting a little clean ecto from Sam’s milk.”

Everyone praised Sam for feeding Damian her own ectoplasm; it was an almost sacred thing, to share ectoplasm. Something usually only done between lovers or parent and child.

Especially parent and child as Neverborns often had to be ‘nursed’ by a parent or Guardian and to share one’s ectoplasm left one weaker until it regenerated or was elsewise replaced.

Even Danny had nursed Danielle in a way; with the stabilizing injections of his ectoplasm, and Sam’s DNA. He hadn’t been aware he was doing what every parent would or that sharing ectoplasm was something special. He had just been following his instincts that said his Neverborn needed ectoplasm.

Sam flushed under the praise but looked confused; all three teenagers did.

Lunch Lady gently explained what was so praiseworthy; Danny promised to have cultural lessons added to his tutoring because they hadn’t known.

They thought the goth was just being praised for breastfeeding.

“Oh, you’re being praised for that too,” Kitty agreed, “’cause that’s just like the human method of sharing ecto, right? No shame on those that can’t though. ‘Cause we, like, know some women can’t.”

“Well, dearies,” Lunch Lady said, “Boxy, dear, come here.”

The Box Ghost came from the mass; he was holding a box, of course.

“This box holds a month’s worth of casseroles,” Lunch Lady said, “made with the purest ecto I could get; all, um, vegetarian, I think the term is. No meat, all vegetables. I do remember how it was to have small ones around.”

“I, the Box Ghost, give this box of all storage!” the Box Ghost proclaimed, “It will hold whatever you want!”

“Thank you, you two,” Danny became the trio’s spokesperson, accepting the box of meals, “we’ll make sure to use them.”

And so it went; each ghost gave a gift, something related to their own Obsessions but still useful (“Promise, Babypop, no hypnosis on this one,” said Ember, brandishing a CD case; two weeks later, noticing the kids were flagging, she would give them one that included hypnosis in the lullabies, Suggestions for anyone listening to go to sleep).

Valerie arrived, ready for war, as the impromptu baby shower wound down.

“Stand down, Val,” Tucker called, motioning to the pile of gifts, “they’re friendly, this time.”

Valerie paused, before saying, annoyed, “You guys should have told me! I’ve some stuff for Damian too!”

“We didn’t plan this,” Sam replied, in the middle of nursing Damian, half covered by a blanket to preserve her modesty while out in the open, “they…ambushed us with presents.”

“Ambushed, huh?” Valerie pressed a button and her board disappeared while she pulled down her mask.

“We heard about the baby,” Kitty explained, “me an’ Johnny. When Phantom confirmed it, we decided ta tell everyone. We gave Phantom’s Neverborn gifts too.”

“What’s a Neverborn? You’re talking about Dani, right?” Valerie questioned.

“A Neverborn is a ghost who was never alive, that is, never born,” Pointdexter explained, pushing his glasses back into place as he did so, “Danielle is a…complicated case as she technically is alive but was not born as a human or other fully alive being. She did, however, come from Phantom so she is considered his Neverborn.”

“Are these Neverborns common?” Danny asked, as no one had explained such concepts.

“Some ghosts get the need to have kids,” Ember explained as Pointdexter blushed and hid his face, strumming a soft melody on her guitar, “especially when they have partners. Usually they take some ectoplasm and pieces of their Cores and mix it all together to make a kid. It’s not something done lightly or by accident. What Plasmius did to you, Babypop, is…like a violation. Like rape. He didn’t do it the normal way but he made a Neverborn with your ectoplasm without your consent. You and your girl, you were…Ancients, that sicko…”

“Oh,” the trio said faintly together, each looking horrified and sick.

They had known Danielle’s creation was wrong but framed like that…framed like that…

“’Specially since you’re so young, Phantom,” Kitty agreed gently, “it’s a…miracle you produced enough ecto for both you an’ your Neverborn. Usually it’s only past the first century when ghosts start thinkin’ about makin’ Neverborns. An’ they stay in the ecto-infused Realms to make things easier.”

“Probably ‘cause the Neverborn needed human DNA,” Johnny pointed out, “Sam’s DNA must have some ecto too. An’ Plasmius must’ve shared ecto when she was…uh, born? Made?”

“Usually, Neverborns have two fully ghost parents to…nurse ectoplasm from,” Pointdexter further explained, “and everyone involved stays in the Zone, where ectoplasm is plentiful and it is easier to replace and heal from a broken Core. And the correct term, Johnny, may be decanted.”

“I need to sit down,” Danny said, collapsing into the grass, landing on his rear.

His friends followed him, though Sam put Damian, now done nursing, into his stroller first.

Danny covered his face, saying shakily, “I knew Vlad was evil but…you’re really saying he acted like a pedophile.”

“Is a pedophile, by Zone custom,” Ember was so damned gentle, “Pha—Danny, we’re so sorry. We knew there was something wrong with him but if we had known…we would have Shattered him for you. We will Shatter him if we ever catch him.”

Each of his Rogues made the same promise.

Valerie nodded, “It’s on sight. If I ever see him again, I’ll destroy him myself…Danny, you need to talk to someone about this��about what he did. It’s not traditional rape but—”

“I have to tell my parents,” Danny choked, “and what do we tell Dani? We love you but your very existence is evidence of a crime?”

“We’ll find a therapist,” Sam promised him, hand on his shoulder, “a specialist…They have counsellors for—this sort of thing. We’ll find the right one and get them under NDAs.”

“Oh, dearies,” Lunch Lady spoke sadly, “we thought you—”

“Who’s your Guardian kid?” Johnny cut in.

“Guardian?”

“Yeah. Every young ghost should have a parent or Guardian. Someone teaching ‘em the way of the Zone.”

“I don’t…don’t think I have one.”

“You’ve really slipped through the cracks, didn’t you? Damn, whatabout Ol’ Clockwork?”

“He’s just a mentor…He never explains things I didn’t ask about first. And he’s really cryptic too,” Danny’s voice was still trembling…Vlad was the closest to someone who explained ghost stuff…I’m the King and I didn’t…guys, how much don’t I know?”

“It’s not your fault, Danny,” Kitty knelt before him, sympathy but not pity in every word, “you literally could not have known….an’ we…we thought you were a lot older. Ghosts fight for fun and well, we hadn’t been in the human world in forever…”

“That’s it, I’m now your Royal Bard,” Ember declared, “so you know you have someone who’ll give it to you straight.”

Danny laughed wetly but agreed.

It was with a somber mood that the gathering slowly broke up; the trio and Damian returning to FentonWorks to have a painful discussion with the Fenton parents.

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (45)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

That feeling... you thought it would be gone forever. But it’s still there. And it’s much heavier than before. The question is: why? Why is this feeling of insecurity, this feeling that something dangerous is going to happen to you, still there? You know everything. You know that Danny won't do anything to you, that he will always make sure that the police don't know anything. But you have a hunch that the thing that wants to hurt you... is foreign to the city. to the country itself. You've been hearing for a few days something... unusual. Like voices.

But these voices are inaudible from others. Only you seem to hear them. At least that's what you think. They are strange, impossible to distinguish whether it is men or women who talk to you. or maybe both? Just as it is impossible to know what they are telling you. These are whispers. The only words you managed to understand once were: "Sorrow" and "Suffering". But nothing more. Could it be ghosts? spirits wandering aimlessly and trying to get in touch with you? From memory, you don't remember having a gift for communicating with spirits. But you've always believed in it. And you have always respected the dead, whether they were people you knew or complete strangers. Perhaps this respect has earned you a gift from the gods, allowing you to contact the afterlife? Maybe.

“Have you seen the latest news? In the end Hoggins was not McKellan's murderer. It was Ghostface!” said one the customer.  

“Yeah, I saw. But hey, is it surprising? No. Does this change anything? neither. And I want to tell you: so much the better. At least we are sure of who we should thank.” said his friend.  

“Excuse me? You wanna thank that freaking psycho for killing people? He’s a twisted man! Not a hero!” Replied the first one.

“Yeah, and he killed two others monsters, who stole money from the poorest and even the richest for their personal accounts! Moreover, it seems that Hoggins was involved in a more horrific scandal in Florida. They only got what they deserved.” Responds the second one.  

“I have heard of this story. What a bastard, to let sick people die when they could be saved. You have to be inhuman to do that. Fortunately, we have journalists like Jed Olsen to shed light on this kind of horror. Imagine how much longer Hoggins could have remained free if guys like Olsen didn't risk their lives and careers for it.” said another man before drink his coffee. “We need a guy like him to rule this damn country.”  

If only you knew sir what we know about "Jed Olsen". If only you knew... you would quickly change your point of view. But he and the second man in the trio were right, if Danny hadn't put his life and career on the line, Hoggins would still be free with impunity. And so does McKellan. They deserved to die it's true, and Danny made sure of it. He is both a completely twisted murderer, but also a hero to the inhabitants of this city. A murderous hero... you would have a hard time knowing how he would have reacted, if he ever heard it.

He would be both flattered and annoyed perhaps. Because that's not how he wants to be remembered, he doesn't want to be remembered that way. But simply as the greatest murderer in history who has never been arrested, and whose identity will forever remain a mystery. Like Jack the Ripper in itself. You wonder inwardly if Danny was inspired by it. It’s quite possible.  

“I find it hard to believe what I just heard. Ghostface who goes from murderer to hero of the little people. It looks like the end of the movie "Joker".” said suddenly a woman voice. When you turned your head, you could see Melina, smiling at you like always, coming to the table next to the counter. “Same as usual Amy!”  

“Alright! Right away!” responds Amy with a smile.  

“Hey... you look like you have your head in the clouds. Everything's fine? Jed made you live another wild night? Be careful, you will end up with a little baby at home very quickly if it continues.” replied Melina laughing by looking at you.  

“Really funny Melina.” you start before laughing too. “Even though Jed is... wild, he knows how to be careful. We are not yet ready to have a baby. But let's say that for a few days... I have trouble sleeping well.”

“Oh. Tell me maybe I can give you two or three advices.”

You tell Melina about your bad nights. If at first, she listened attentively and without expressing emotion, once your story was finished, the young woman looked at you with big eyes, as if you had just told her your most shameful secret of your life.

“Shit, so they're after you too...” she said worried.

“What do you mean?” you ask worried.  

“Jed told me the same thing the other day. He said he heard the same whispers and even had nightmares about them. Nightmares where you were there. I thought it was just a fear not to be able to take care of you but... I have to believe that my mystical side was right.”

Hold on. Danny went through the same things you did and he didn't tell you anything? It's not very friendly. But in a sense... you can't really blame him. He certainly had good reasons not to tell you about it. Surely, he didn't want to worry you, or that you would think he was crazy. Even if he is a little bit crazy in a sense. And again, the word is weak.

“You and Jed are related. And I feel like you've attracted... negative entities. Spirits, ghosts who want to hurt you. They may be trying to reach you through dreams first, but who knows how this can evolve. And who can be these spirits.” said Melina worried.  

“You starting to scare me. Why us? Jed and I didn't do anything except ... live our lives and do our work.” you said scared.

“Evil spirits have no particular criteria for attacking someone. If they find a target they like, or someone provokes them, then they go after that person. In your case, I think it's related to Jed. Because I think the mcKellan and Hoggins' souls are not... Left. They are surely stuck here because of their hatred and anger. And since you're in a relationship with Jed, they're attacking you too. Or, it's a much more powerful entity than those two. But in any case, it wants to hurt you. You're going to have to be very careful.”

“There's no way to get them to leave?”

“I could use the objects my grandmother used to purify a house but... I'm not sure I'm as good as she was. It's really very meticulous as a practice.” replied Melina.  

“I'll talk about it with Jed tonight. Thank you very much Melina.” you respond.  

You went back to work and the rest of your day was all about anxiety. If Melina is telling the truth, then you are in danger. Maybe that's why you have this strange feeling of not being safe when, all those who could have hurt you are dead, under Danny's sharp blade. And he, too, had the same experience. There is not much you can do about evil spirits except to drive them out. And you will deeply hope that Melina will be your salvation. Otherwise... you will have to think about leaving the city. Or start praying to God.

The last customers of the day ended up leaving your café, greeting you warmly. Then it was Amy and Corey’s turn who for a few days, got very close to each other. They were so lovely together. You clean the last tables before you take care of the back shop. Danny shouldn't be long in coming, so you'll both be able to discuss these nightmares you're both experiencing. Hoping he isn't too tired or in a hurry to kill someone tonight.

While you were cleaning your kitchen tools, you suddenly hear a noise coming from the room. You put down your equipment and take a weapon in case it’s a thief. You move carefully through the room until you reach the switch to turn on the light. But nothing. not the shadow of a thief, or an object that fell to the ground. You may have dreamed... Then suddenly, whispers. The same whispers you've been hearing for days and days. But this time it looks like it's coming from the back shop you just left.  

When you return to the back shop, you find that the door leading to the outside is... strange. A dark aura emanated from it and mist escaped from the lock and the bottom of the door. The whispers became clearer as you approached.

“(Y/N) …(Y/N) ...It’s time. Come with us. Join us. Feed my hunger. Give us all your suffering and sorrow. For all eternity.” said the voices.

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” you ask.

“Who we are doesn’t matter. The most important is that you’ll feed us. With your screams, your pain, your sorrow, your blood. Now come with us. It’s time for you to meet your fate.”

Suddenly the door opened on a thick black mist. Giant spider legs came out and tried to catch you. You step back several steps but visibly, they are much longer than you hoped. As it was about to take you away, you feel something pulling you back. Under the effect of fear, you try to struggle when a familiar voice was heard.

“Hey! Hey Honey It’s me! Calm down!” said Danny by blocking yourself by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “It’s me...stay calm.”

“Danny...” you start as you feel tears in the corner of your eyes.  

The voices were heard again, and the paws moved towards the two of you. Danny pushed you, one of the spider legs injuring his arm in the process. He took a weapon in his hands and pushed it back to the door before getting against it and locking it. The door began to move, as if we wanted to open it from the outside and then after a few minutes... a silence set in. Everything had stopped. Danny stepped back before looking at you making sure you were still there. Then he joins you, taking you in his arms.

“What the f**k was that thing?? And what did it want??” you said crying.

“I don’t know. But for now...we’re safe.” said Danny.  

“You’re...you’re hurt. I have a first care kit. I will take care of your injury.”

You take the first care kit and ask Danny to come and sit next to you so you can treat him. He winced when you applied the disinfectant but remained motionless until you applied the bandages to him. You then put away the equipment and both of you leave the café to go home. Once at the apartment, you both sit on the sofa sighing, still in shock from what had just happened.

“Melina was right. We have attracted evil spirits. And they're not going to let us go now.” You said.  

“Honey please... Don't tell me you believe in this bullshit...” responds Danny, passing a hand on his face.  

“Danny, you saw what I saw! And you were hurt! How can you not believe in these things?? You suffered the same thing as me! Melina told me everything.”

“Okay, okay, stay calm. If they're really hitting spirits, there's not much we can do but chase them away, hoping it works.”

“Melina proposed it to me... it doesn't cost anything to try. But if it doesn't work... either we will have to leave the city, or we will have to pray to God.” you replied.

“Leaving the city would not be of much use and I have not believed in God for years. So don't count on me to pray to him. Anyway, knowing that I am a murderer I am not sure that he does much for me.” Responds Danny before getting up.  

You watch Danny walk to his office and walk out a few minutes later with his bag. He's not going to go out and kill someone tonight, is he? And even less leave you alone?? This thing, whatever it is, could come back! As he was about to leave, you take his hand before sticking yourself against him.

“Don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Please...” you said sadly.

“We no longer risk anything. I don't think this thing is attacking the two of us again.” Danny responds.  

“How do you know? If it happens, maybe it will only go after you and I will never see you again! Danny please... Stay with me.”

“...Fine Honey. I’ll stay. Tomorrow I'll call Melina. If her magic shits works...we’ll be safe again. Let’s eat something and go to sleep.”  

Despite his words, you do not let him go. On the contrary, you will tighten more and more against him. And he gave it back to you. Whatever that thing is, it will surely come back. Danny is maybe a murderer, but he is the one you love. And if this thing has to take Danny, it will have to take you too.

And that's what it intends to do. One way or another.

***

(My second dose of vaccine is finally done! but the effects were quick to manifest, I think my body wanted to do a speed run X) Don't worry it was nothing very bad, arm pain after the injection and the next day, headache in the morning and some dizziness in the evening. But now I'm feeling better! and above all, I will finally be able to enjoy the simple pleasures of life! And go see Dune at the cinema! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the other ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya! )

[norafike]

Despite all this, I still love you

A year ago she had been broken out of Sisika, freed from the work detail. She owed it to Mrs. LeClerk, any other person may have accepted their husband's death and the word of the killer being caught and yet Jessica didn't. She put thought into what was said and dug deeper than wanted and if not for that, well, Nora would have been six foot deep by now or perhaps burned without a proper burial.

The last thing she had been told by Mrs. LeClerk was to not find herself into too much additional trouble, but having taken her hand to a gun and enjoying the thrill of the fight, Nora couldn't keep that promise. Sure she didn't go to any near town and shoot the first soul in sight, she was sensible and she had morals. She shot those that needed shooting even if it meant she'd get a price on her head.

It was how she met Maggie Fike. A hard woman solidified by her past, cruel in her words but kind in her heart. She had originally intended to hire Nora's brother as an associate, but Harry declined and so she took on the job. Maggie was contempt with Nora at first, hesitant as lack of knowledge did not provide her with judge of character but Nora was quick to impress, having rescued Marcel from his captors efficiently.

It was what convinced Maggie to send Nora out to rescue her nephew Lemuel and when she returned with him, she knew immediately the bond the pair would have in the future.

She noticed the way he leaned into her, how tightly wrapped his arm had been around her waist and how they were often seen smiling in one another's presence.

She also noticed how often Lem would find an excuse just to spend more time with Nora but soon he stopped searching and became more forward, asking her out on dates which he wouldn't call 'dates' rather 'a trip to town, to find potential customers'.

They became inseparable, two best friends working together. The last time Maggie saw her nephew so happy was when he would go out on his fishing trips with Danny-Lee.

She remembered how quiet Lem was for the first couple of day's after he had been rescued from the prison transfer, how forlorn he looked to be. But Nora was quick to comfort, understanding as she was unfortunate to make it to Sisika. With her kind words her nephew became far more happier, accomplishing something that Maggie herself may not have been capable of doing.

But eventually Nora changed.

That burning fire inside her dimmed, she was no longer passionate about holding the gun to her enemies and grew paranoid. The slightest noise would startle Nora and she would rise out of her chair suddenly, drawing her weapon on the opening air and almost firing a shot before she realised it had been her nerves.

Maggie grew distrustful towards Nora, marching down to Cripps as she bitterly told him that, "that girl was not cut out for the line of work, she was startled and not what they needed."

But Maggie kept her on with Lem's convincing. He saw the potential and she saw how much he cared for Nora.

They cared for each other.

[thevoilinauttheory]

FFXIVWrite2020 Prompt #9 - Lush

Character(s): Gwenael Corbeau, Jadeinne Corbeau Setting: Corbeau Apothecary, The Brumes of Ishgard; some time after the Calamity What: Gwenael finally decides to be of some use to his cousin. Content Warnings: Mentions of vomiting (no details), implications of drugs and alcohol Author Notes: As anyone can guess, my original thought for this prompt was going to be centered around Danny; but I still had a couple characters to go through that I hadn’t written stories about. Gwen lives with his cousin and helps out in her apothecary, when he’s not out spending the little coin he gets for his playing. I have an in-game representation of their home, but I think it’s still on Cactuar (oof). Also Danny’s way with plants is hereditary (ゝω´･)b⌒☆ --

“Gwenael! Can you help sort these herbs, I’ve got a line out front again!” His cousin called to him from the front room, though he was having a time of his own in the back. Dizzy, head throbbing - too much again, last night. He didn’t even remember coming home. He tumbled from his bed, sitting up with tangled hair and lopsided clothes, and trudged his way to the dresser to fish out something clean and less… covered in food. Or was that vomit? He vaguely remembered a girl doing so over his shirt. “Gwen, are you still back there?” He gave a hard knock on the wall, letting Jadeinne know that he was still getting dressed. This situation wasn’t uncommon, in fact, one could call it a normal day. He straightened out his hair, straightened out his clothes, and stepped from the back. His cleaned up clothing couldn’t hide the bags under his eyes or how pale he looked. But she wasn’t wrong, there was a line out the front and the store was a mess. At least, a mess to those who owned it - customers wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the lavish jungle that grew over the walls and ceiling. The floor was due to be covered soon, as well. Flowers bloomed, even in the frozen climes of Ishgard, and herbs thrived alongside them. Which is what he was brought out to do. It seemed some of them got mixed up while a customer was sifting through them, and sorting was the least he could do for all the trouble he caused his cousin. “There’s a pill on the counter over here, and I’ve got coffee coming up.” “Thanks. Y’got me down to a T, don’t ya’?” “Unfortunately. Just surprised you didn’t bring anyone back this time.” Jadeinne, despite her disappointment, still offered her guests a bright smile and cheery words. People lined up, just for medicine; it was no wonder that she barely had time to run her wares out to the House she worked at. Gwenael made his way to the shelf, ignoring the medicine he was given for now. Each one of them was full of life, seeds brought to them by a family friend, and somehow Jadeinne managed to get them to grow with barely the means to do so. “Love” she said, was the key to getting them to do so. He was more inclined to say “magic”. He learned a lot, though, by living here. He was thankful that Jadeinne was a kind enough soul to let him stay in exchange for menial work. And before long, he got caught up in pruning some of the other plants, as well as watering them. “Could you take down some of that lavender; two sprigs, please?” She asked more of him, but it was hardly invasive. He did just as was asked of him, and did so the entire day, until the night fell and the last customer had been served. “Wow, actually made it through the day, huh? Usually you pass out after a couple hours.” “Mm. Yeah, I do. I dunno. After disappearin’ all day yesterday, it’s really the least I could do.” “Were you going to play again?” “Not sure- you plannin’ on joinin’ me?” He smiled brightly at her, finally taking that blasted pill and a cup of ice cold coffee. Much needed, at this point. He choked it down, her medicine never tasted the best, but did it work some miracles. “Maybe tomorrow night, I have to take inventory before Maximiloix arrives in the morning.” “Then I’ll stay ‘n help… after a nap.” His actions promptly threw him onto the floor of the store, staring at the honeysuckle and jasmine which hung from vines and drifted towards the floor. He’d likely never see anything this green again in his life. 

With the turn of his head, he noticed a sprout growing from the corner of the base of the counter - he smiled. 

[vergilboyfriend]

You should do all of them questions and 90 is true

I love you!!!!

1. Favorite instrument?

I work at a music store u can’t just ask me this. When my coworkers play it’s the saxophone or the flute, when the boys in the repair shop are testing repairs and they harmonize with each other or try to outplay one another it’s the bassoon or the trombone or whatever they’re fixing at the moment. When I hear 🎺 give his lesson on Wednesday afternoons it’s the trumpet, and when I think about middle school it’s the clarinet, the flute, the French horn. When I hear the nutcracker pas des deux is the oboe and when I hear edith piaf l’accordeoniste it’s the remarkable human voice. Really my favorite instrument is all of them, it just depends.

2. Favorite fic trope? Mutual pining 🥺

3. Sport you played for the longest amount of time? LMAO I wasn’t a sporty kid but I did ballet

4. Shoe size? 10-11

5. Most recent (good) dream? Uhh I had a dream last night about my coworker 🎹 it wasn’t bad though I can’t really remember what it was about

6. Last person in your DMs? smugg

7. Can you do a handstand? Nooo nooo lmaoo nooooo

8. Unpopular food opinion I don’t like oranges or red meat

9. Conspiracy you believe in? There’s some kind of weird weather dome in my hometown around the military base that makes most storms pass around us

10. Is your hair its natural color/style? Most of it is I dyed the bottom layer of my hair tho so it’s blonde rn

11. state a useless fact all that’s coming to mind is outright lies rn hold on. The inventor of pringles is buried in a pringles can that’s so fucking nasty omg

12. most interesting gossip you’ve heard? Idk I don’t really care for gossip uhhhh have u heard tho rin dippindogs is a huge gay hah she uhh she like men AND women lmao gaaay gaaaay

13. Middle name? Carolyn

14. Sexuality? Bisexual

15. Amount of sleep you got last night? Idk actually I think like 9-10 hrs tho I slept in until 11

16. Opinion on ice cream cake? Tasty!!!

17. Opinion on (cup)cake frosting? It’s depends buttercream is usually too sweet for me in large amounts so I prefer whipped cream frosting

18. Last board game you played? Idk??? We played hunt a killer tho last Thursday me n my family I guess that counts kinda

19. Project you want to start? I need ideas first baby

20. Project you’re working on right now? HAHAHAHAHAHA

21. TV show you’re watching? nothing rn I just rewatch bojack a lot if I watch anything

22. Last movie you watched? Lego batman I think

23. Ever left anon hate? Not legit hate

24. Ever left anon love? Yes all the time. Sometimes to strangers it’s my favorite thing to do

25. Best Disney movie? The princess and the frog

26. Best Pixar movie? Soul or Up I can’t decide

27. Best Star Wars? Um. Empire strikes back

28. Last thing you consumed? Fuit gumy

29. NoTP? Idk I don’t really hate ships unless they’re gross like pedophilic gross

30. story behind your (nick)name? When I was a fetus my great grandfather had a dream that my name should be Carolyn Marie but my parents were huge dweebs so they named me Marina after the actress of Deanna Troi in Star Trek. Idk about my nickname ive just always been Rina/Rin as long as I can remember

31. ice cream order? Lately it’s lemon sorbetto I know it’s SO high in sugar but I love it

32. describe your blog in <5 words I love you

33. how many blogs do you follow? 436

34. Describe your voice it depends usually I sound like a sick child but my customer service voice is really pleasant

35. Describe your smile it’s cute :)

36. What is the place you live known for? LMAOOO LMAO we have a military base nearby and like. I could go on abt that one but also like. There’s a lot of gang violence and a lot of the other consequences of poverty. People from the cities around us see us as “””ghetto””” or violent but it’s just. It’s more than that it’s always more than that. And idk what else there’s nothing really particularly special about this town except that we’re all here and not anywhere else

37. What is the place you’re originally from known for? (if they’re different)

38. pronouns? she/any idc

39. Languages you speak? English

40. first friend you made through tumblr? Idk. I probably don’t talk to them anymore :(

41. Person on tumblr you know in real life? my brother

42. First dog breed you think of shih tzu I have 2 next to me rn

43. room wall color? Purble!!!! The paint color is called grape juice that’s why I picked it!!!

44. Song that’s stuck in your head right now? It’s tricky to rock a rhyme to rock a rhyme that’s right on time it’s trickyyyyy

45. Favorite number? 5, 34

46. Color you associate with your name? Red

47. Favorite jolly rancher flavor?watermelon

48. Pets? 2 dogs rocket and groot and 4 cats loki danni who r from the same litter and we raised from kittens, miss kitty who we adopted from a shelter after my boy blue moon passed away and ben (his real name is Kylo Ren thanks to my mom but I refuse to call him that) he is my little baby and he has 7 toes on his front paws

49. Collections? Hot wheels

50. Character outside of your fandom you’d marry? Girl what lmaooo idk

51. Character outside of your fandom you’d kill? That’s mean :(

52. Have you met any celebrities? NO thank god id have to kill on sight

53. Favorite time period in history? Itslian Renaissance & Romantic Era

54. What time is it right now? 2:35 am oops

55. History or future? Future but like . A good one. Or prehistory

56. Space or ocean? Space

57. Fears? Abandonment

58. Command + v and post. It’s this list of questions u don’t want that

59. Favorite season? Spring

60. Describe your aesthetic. Messy just a mess, neon and old buildings and things, antiques, countryside if there weren’t so many trump pence flags still lmaoo give uppp give up, nature just al of nature and space and places humans can’t touch and places they used to touch but can’t anymore

61. MBTI? Infp but I haven’t taken it in a few years

62. What’s your relationship with your family like? Normal.

63. “Biggest fan” in your tumblr activity? I’m in mobile hold on acc to tumblr it’s akky

64. Favorite musical? Sweeney todd

65. Comfort book? Idk how to read 💔💔💔 wuthering heights tho

66. Comfort movie? Whisper of the heart

67. OTP? Girl idk

68. BroTP? Joey and Tristan yugioh

69. AUs or canon compliant? Canon ig idk

70. Opinion on the person who’s sending the ask? It’s an anon!! But I love them

71. FMK + 3 characters anon didnt leave any characters and I was going to say something very bad but I won’t

72. Dream date? I’ve wanted to do this for a while but ideally it would be after we’d been together a while maybe even engaged or whatever, I wanna go to like a Home Depot or a furniture store and pretend to be married and looking for house paints and furniture and plan what our home is going to look like I wanna do that so bad. But idk for a first/early relationship date i really want to go to the zilker botanical garden it’s one of my favorite places, we could also go to the natural gardener which is a plant nursery in Austin I really love it there too and it’s not that far from zilker.

73. Relationship status? Single

74. Ever dyed your hair? Do you plan to? Yes and perhaps. Maybe

75. Dream job/career? Idk anymore I used to have big girl goals and I haven’t had any in a while. But when I was younger I wanted to be a game warden

76. Favorite band/singer? Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

77. Something that makes you soft/that you find adorable? My cats

78. The first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Buy a house

79. Are you superstitious? Yes

80. Character you project onto? Shizuku tsukishima

81. Fictional character you’ve had a crush on? Vergil devil may cry. Forever husband

82. Celebrity crush? LMAO

83. Person on here you’d date? my mutuals

84. Person on here you’d marry? 🥺 my mutuals

85. Person on here you’d throw into the void? Smugg

86. Other social media you have? I’ve got a photography insta that I barely use and a Twitter that’s just nintendo switch screenies that’s it

87. Finish the sentence: Due to personal reasons, ___________i will be passing away

88. Bad habit? I find it rlly hard to say no or like to say when and why I’m upset I don’t feel like for the latter I don’t feel like I should bring something that’s upsetting me up because I know I’ll get over it on my own and I don’t really trust myself to be upset about rational things. Idk I’m working on it

89. Three things you like about yourself? I’m hot, I’m kind, I’m resilient

90. Ily and you deserve the world I love you!!!!! YOU deserve it too!!!

[elejahfanfic]

Hello Love/5

Fanfiction

Part 5

This is an AU story with tvd/to characters. All human, no vampires or witches.

A little love story_ 💞

A sweet fluffy love story, ft. Klaroline, Kennett, Jebekah (Rebekah and Jackson!)

but the main pairing is Miguel Galindo x Elena Gilbert

since I love to write crossover au’s, here I am borrowing Miguel Galindo from MayansMC…played by Danny Pino.

tag_  @miguelsbrat​

thank you for reading xoxo  ✽-(˘◡˘)/✽

🍦🧁☕

The next day

In the Mikaelson Mansion

Klaus finished his phone call with his associates about a project he wanted to undertake while he was taking a year off. Esther knocked at the door of the roof greenhouse before she entered.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting"

"You're not, mother. What is it? I can see that you have your thinking cap on"

"Well, I was thinking - would you be interested in taking up the project of restoring our beach house?”

"Mother, you can have anyone - where has this come from? Why me?"

“Because I want you to do it. You’ve always loved being there.” Esther said.

“All right. I will do it. And you give me free hands. I can do it my way?”

"May I only ask for one thing? Let me make a few suggestions?"

"Put them on the table and I will look at it." Klaus said.

"Thank you." she said cheerfully and walked out of the living room. He now picked up the phone and dialed Caroline's number.

"How about a weekend outside the city- beach, good food, fresh air?"

Caroline said yes in a heartbeat.

***

Elsewhere

Rebekah ran the last look at the next issue of the magazine. She was pleased with it. Sending a few notes to her editor-in-chief, she got up, walking to the window. She looked to a beautiful sunny day. She took a deep breath. Work was fine. Love life was non-existent.

"If someone told me that you would become a workaholic and turn into your father, I would tell them to take a hike."

Rebekah turned around sharply, nearly screaming at the sight of the man.

"Jackson! Wow-what are you doing here?"

'Business - long story- maybe not that long-I took over from my father." he explained.

"Really? Ok, I am done here. Drinks?!" she said and now took her bag.

"Drinks!" he agreed smiling and they walked out of the office.

***

In Lena’s Cookies shop

Finishing a new batch of Mexican Hot Chocolate Cookies with marshmallows, her mind floated to the night before.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Elena breathed in. Miguel nodded slightly, and as she was about to turn to leave, he grabbed hold of her hand gently. Sliding his hand around to her lower back her pulled her into a kiss again.

Elena was completely taken by the unexpected move, but it didn't take her long to respond feverishly, her hand finding its way up his neck, burying it deeply in his dark coiffed hair.

Oh, yeah, it made her head spin and more. Was she on planet Earth, or was she now in outter space.

Elena closed the door of her small office and leaned on it, a big smile danced on her face, feeling like she was floating on air as she thought of Miguel.

If it wasn't for her phone ringing, she would have stayed in this cloudy state for the entire day, playing the kiss over and over in her head. She moved and now looked for her phone. Finding it in the bedroom, she picked it saying, "Hey"

"Hey you, what happened? You've not replied to any of my texts." Caroline said all flustered up on the other line.

"Sorry, I was a bit busy." Elena said.

"What is this about ending up having wine with Miguel? Can you please tell me - I am dying here" Caroline said.

"Bonnie and I are meeting for lunch and I will tell you everything there - in detail."

"You are mean!" Caroline exclaimed.

"See you there." Elena said.

Caroline agreed and as they hung up.

***

In Upper East Side, Miguel welcomed his friends and colleagues from San Diego. Dr Adelita Reyes.

“It is so good to see you” Miguel gave the woman a warm hug.”How is Angel?”

“He is in process of opening a new specialized motorcycle shop with EZ. It’s going to be custom chopper-style motorcycles only. They are going to do their own designes.” Adelita replied.

“I have to order one” Miguel said.

Adelita laughed a little.

“I’m serious.” Miguel said.

“What’s happened to you? When I got in - I saw that you are kind of different. New York is really doing something to you.something good.”

“Maybe - you know - I have locked myself away from the world - letting life pass me by. I’m done. I want to do things. Get out there. Live again. Bye a motorcycle.”

“If I didn’t know you - I would say that middle-life crisis has hit you hard.” Adelita shot at the surgeon, and then apologized for being so forward.

Miguel tilted his head and partly agreed, spreading a smile. He didn’t care. He felt good. His whole being had never been more alive, and there was nothing an no one in the world that could bring him down.

“OMG - did you meet someone?” Adelita then said.

“I did.” Miguel didn’t hide the fact that it was a significant someone that made his heart, his soul smile again.

“This is great! I’m so happy for you - and you know what spread the middle-life crisis thick. Who is she?”

“Her name is Elena. She is a pastry chef - a friend of my sister Rebekah - and she is - preciosa!” Miguel’s eyes sparkled, now revoking last night’s kiss, his heart bumping with a joyful beat.

“You’re in love?!”

“I am” Miguel admitted, and sat back in his chair, letting the happy feeling soak right into his bones. For the first time in forever his body and mind relaxed, continuing to talk about how he had met Elena, switching eventually to talk about the conference the next day and their presentation.

***

In East Village

"I've decided to open the second shop bakery. It will be cupcakes only. Oh, and- Jenna arrives week Friday. I am having a 'welcome back' party-and there is news from Jeremy, too. He has officially told me that he is now exclusive with Sarah.”

“Wow - about the bakery and wow for Jer, he is finally serious with someone,” Bonnie said, “good for him.”

“It’s crazy how things change. I thought that you and him would be together forever”

“Yeah, but - you know”

“I do - his immaturity back then killed it.” Elena remembered Jeremy’s unsavoury behaviour, causing Bonnie and him to break up, and moving away to the west coast.

“But we are sister anyway, even though I will marry someone else.” Bonnie said.

“What? Don’t tell me Kol proposed?” Elena nearly jumped from her seat.

“No - not yet. I found the ring” Bonnie said.

“You’re not serious? How? When?” Elena couldn’t wait to find out more, but they were both now interupted by Caroline, who joined them, sitting down, panting like she had been chased by the gang of wolves.

“Sorry, you guys,” Caroline said, “guess what? Klaus invited me to the Hamptons with him, to their beach house.”

“Isn’t it damaged by the hurricane, last year?” Bonnie said.

“Apparently he is going to redesing it - ok - this now is not like so important” Caroline than turned to Elena, “Now tell us about Miguel”

"I kissed Miguel - well, we kissed!" Elena said, her stomach flipping at the thought of the kiss that still lingered with her so vividly.

"Wow!" Caroline exclaimed shocked. "How was it? If he kisses anything like Klaus-"

"Oh, he can kiss! He can really kiss!" Elena said swooning.

"What is this whole mantra about you not going to date for a while?” Bonnie said.

"I guess it’s out of the window,” Elena said with a cute grin on her face,”I don’t know what it is about him, but I just feel - everything inside me feels so good - my heart just goes kaboom when I’m see him”

“Then just go for it! He obviously likes you” Caroline advise.

“But there is this something inside me that,” Elena inhaled sharply as if she was going to lose breath,”what if it all goes wrong and -”

“Why would it go wrong?” Caroline cut right in the middle of her sentence.

“I don’t know - I’m freshly out of a relationship - he hasn’t dated anyone in a thousand years”

“Listen to your heart” Bonnie said. “What does it tell you?”

“That it feels so good.” Elena replied.

“And the case is closed” Caroline said. “Where is Bekah?”

Rebekah ditched her friends, excusing herself, sending a selfie of her and Jackson having a cocktail lunch.

“He is back - and better looking than ever” Caroline remarked looking at selfie Rebekah sent of her and Jackson.

“Did they like date in college?” Bonnie asked.

“No - she always was into him, but - nothing happened - they ended up being good buddies.” Caroline replied.

“Didn’t he marry that witch Hayley Marshall?” Elena remembered.

“Yep,” Caroline replied,”but it didn’t last. They are divorced. And she got a crazy settlement.”

“He is such a good guy,”Bonnie said,”and Rebekah deserves someone good like him.”

“I hope things happen for her, too, same as it is happening for us” Caroline now had only one subject in the center of their girly meeting and that was Klaus.

***

Later that day as Rebekah called Caroline to share how ‘drinks’ with Jackson went in detail, she divulged that he had invited her to his family’s beach house in the Hamptons.

“Klaus invited me to your house!” Caroline said.

Now those two concoted a plan for have a small gathering in the Hamptons for the weekend, and as she checked with Jackson, both women now invited Elena, Miguel, Bonnie and Kol to come along.

“I have a feeling that this will be the best summer ever” Caroline exclaimed happyily.

“I believe so, too. I have a feeling the stars have finally aligned in our favour” Rebekah said.

“Hello summer, Hello love!” Caroline said cheerfully.

*

That weekend, at the agreed hour the party of eight set off to the beach town some fifty miles far from the city.

As they arrived, and after they settled each pair wanted to do something different. So, Kol and Bonnie together with Rebekah and Jackson down the beach. Klaus together with Caroline went to the Mikaelson house, which was not far down the road. Elena and Miguel went to a gourmet food store.

“I will make an easy lobster paella,” Elena said as they entered the speciality store, “and a French Apple tart or something else with puff pastry.”

“We could have all gone out to a restaurant. It is not fair that you spend time cooking.” Miguel said.

“It’s not a big thing. Plus it is cozy to have a meal together in the garden - and don’t forget I’m a pro and I know a lot of shortcuts. First shortcut is buying already made puff pastry.” Elena said, marching to the frozen food section.

*

At the Mikaelson beach house

"Please" Klaus said as he opened the doors and they walked in. It was dusty, but still very stylish and it was clear to her that Klaus had inherited the creative streak from his mother.

"It's -beautiful!" Caroline exclaimed.

"Yes- it needs some TLC though. I’ve have always loved this house. We would spend the entire summer here when we were children. I'd like to show you my favourite hide out?!" he smiled charmingly.

"Lead the way." Caroline smiled back at him.

"You love modern stuff!" Caroline concluded as he had shown her his most favourite creations by the famous architect.

"And you?"

"I love the mod-cons!" Caroline said flirtatiously.

"I know exactly what house I would design for you”

"You would desing a house for me?” Caroline looked surprised

“Yes”

"You want to build me a house?!" she was stunned as she realized where the teasing led.

"Yes. I would like to design a house for you and so much more."  he looked deep in her eyes as if he was compelling her to become his.

"You are kidding me, right? Is that how you get all your women to bed?" she said.

"I have never offered any of them to build a house or take them to a place like this. I just had them. You, on the other hand- " before he could say more, she was kissing him and he vigorously accepted her lips.

*

Elena and Miguel returned to Kenner’s beach house. He carried all the bags for her like a gentleman he was.

As Elena washed her hands and put her hair up, he made himself comfortable at the table and watched her in action. In no time she made pastry diamond, flowers and pinwheels, filing it with cream cheese, topping it off respectively with strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.

“There is something missing” Elena said and jumped, “we haven’t anything with chocolate.”

“Isn’t this quite enough?”

“Yes, but without chocolate - nothing goes. At least in my life.” Elena joked, and now cut the puff pastry in stripes feeling it with soft cheese and chocolate chips, skillfuly flapping it over creating a perfect braid pattern.

“Rebekah said that you have won the second place on the Artisanal Sweet Fair last year.” Miguel said.

“Yes. I lost to Cupcake Heaven” Elena said placing the last batch of pastries in the oven. “There is always the next year. It’s all about working hard.”

Miguel admired her resolve. And pouring them both a drink of rose wine, they toasted a little to the summer, he continued watching her do her magic with the lobster paella.

“Ah, it smells so good!” Kol exclaimed as he and Bonnie entered the kitchen from the back garden.

“How can I help?” Bonnie asked her friend.

“I got all under control” Elena said.

“She is like a wizard,” Miguel said,”she’s already set the table, made these delicious pastries”

“That’s our Elena” Rebekah now said, appearing from the living room, taking one of the pastries.

“Call Caroline, because the paella is nearly done - I just need to add the lobster and the kielbasa, and my super shortcut paella is done.” Elena said.

“Yes Ma’am” Rebekah joked and was immediately on the phone to find out what was keeping Klaus and Caroline, who were there in a flash, after Rebekah got hold of her friend.

“Caroline said that your paella is something that should not be missed.” Klaus said as they sat down.

Very soon, the whole party complimented the Chef and agreed with Caroline. The “shortcut paella” was delicious, and the little puff pastires went well with the wine she had chosen.

Rebekah and Caroline togehter with Kol made sure there is more fun to be had and the bunch went from sharing stories from childhood to playing silly games of charade, dancing. Enjoying the summer evening to the fullest.

*

“Would you like to go for a walk - down the beach?” Miguel said to Elena as she finished talking to her aunt.

“Yeah - let me just get my cardigan - the wind is picking up” She ran quickly to the room, pulling  out a turquoise floral chiffon cardigan.

Taking the stroll down the path,they exchanged the impressions of the day.

“I’ve forgotten how much I love this place.” Miguel said. Memories of his childhood hit him in the best way possible, but there was some sandess attached to it unfortunately.

“What is it?”

“The first time I came here was the summer my parents  - you know. Mother - maybe it sound quite unsual to you that I call Esther Mother, but she has took me in like I was her son. Not a day did she treat me any different form Klaus, Rebekah or Kol.”

“But deep down you wished your parents would miraculously come back” Elena said.

“Yes” Miguel inhaled softly, turning to Elena. “I don’t want this evening be again about - the past. I love the present so much.”

His masculine yet mellow voice made her skin spread with goosebumps. Her heart was dancing a beat she had not known existed. For a moment it felt like she had no air, and she thought it was all because of the sparkling wine, that still bubbled in her head.

Miguel could feel Elena's sweet restlessness and even he himself had to contain his own passion during the whole evening, especially when they danced to Norah Jones’ "Come away with me". He wanted to swoop her away there and then way from everything and everyone to have her all to himself.

All at once, she was painfully aware of his nearness as he now leaned over to her, cupping her chin everso gently. And when his gaze lowered to her lips, heat coiled through her so strong, her mouth opened slightly, moistening her lips.

“You are so beautiful” his breathing was ragged like hers, warm and sweet oozing a faint scent of chocolate from the pastry he had earlier. His hard-muscled chest was so close she could almost feel the dampness of his shirt while the familiar scent of Old spice, warm and complex mixture of South Sea, flowers and green herbs whirled her senses. And then his lips latched onto hers, now kissing her with the same quiet intensity he had in his stare. Tentative at first, but gradually turning bolder, covering every inch of her mouth with slow, deep kisses.

And I want to walk with you On a cloudy day In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high So won't you try to come

Come away with me and we'll kiss On a mountaintop Come away with me And I'll never stop loving you

[jedi-mabari]

Moonshine: Still Sabotage

Word Count: 1566 Warnings: Violence, graphic death. A/N: I started this as part of a challenge I think, but my computer had a mental breakdown and couldn’t work on it. But Now that my laptop is working again, I finished it and am presenting it to you.

Summary: Danny is tasked with running the competition out of the area, and she tried not to get caught while she works.

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Danny curled into the warm body next to her, draping her arm over whoever was next to her. She must have had too much to drink the night before because she couldn't quite put a name or face to the person in her bed. A freezing breeze blew in through the open window, and Danny turned just enough to glare at it.

She vaguely remembered that she was too warm before going to bed, so she opened the window for some fresh air. She got up, pulling herself from what she realized was a woman in her bed, to go close the window. When she turned back, the woman had stirred enough to sit up, and Danny smiled at the beautiful red wrapped up in her blanket.

"Good morning," Danny said, reaching down for her under things. "Did you sleep well?" She slowly got dressed as a large smile spread and lit up the woman's face.

"Well, what little sleep I actually got," she said, her Irish accent and wide smile making Danny blush. "You are quite a woman," she said, reaching off the edge of the bed to grab her own undergarments. Danny laughed  through a grimace and reached for her shirt, carefully pulling it on over the still healing burn that curled up her side.

"From what I remember, you aren't so bad yourself," they both shared a laugh as they got dressed. "Do you need help getting home?" Danny had just finished tucking her shirt into the waist of her jeans as the Irish woman was pulling her red curls up out of her face.

"I should have no trouble getting back to my camp," she said, smoothing a few wrinkles out of her skirt. Danny opened the bedroom door and smiled at her. "I should thank you for the good time," she chuckled softly, leaning into Danny. She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. She opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by the Irish woman's lips pressed against her own.

Danny hesitated for a moment before placing her hands on the woman's waist, pulling her closer as she deepened the kiss. She leaned into her, pushing so that the red head was pressed into the door frame. They only broke apart because Maggie cleared her throat, jarring them both out of whatever mood had taken them.

"I should go," the redhead said softly, her cheeks flushing red. She darted out of the shack, leaving Danny and Maggie alone to discuss the day's business.

"Having fun, I see," Maggie said as Danny took a seat by the door. Danny shrugged and let out a light chuckle, checking the door half hoping the woman was going to come back.

"I wish I could actually remember if it was fun. I suppose I should stay away from the strong stuff huh?" Maggie shook her head and stood from her spot behind the desk. She leaned heavily on her cane as hobbled around the room.

"So long as you aren't drinking the competitions crap, I don't care what you do." Danny laughed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What do you have planned for today?" Maggie shrugged, tapping her fingers on the handle of her cane.

"Someone set up a still over in some abandoned cabins just west here. My best guess is Caton and that Braithwait bitch are trying to elbow us out. Why don't you go pay them a visit, see about convincing them that it's a bad idea." Danny laughed and grabbed her gun belt off the back of the chair, securing it in place around her hips.

"I guess I could drop by," Danny chuckled, shaking her head. "But I'm not promising anything." Maggie rolled her eyes and shook her head, moving back to her spot behind her desk as Danny marched out the door.

Danny strode over to Tank, mounting him quickly. She knew the cabins Maggie was talking about, and even if she took the roads it wouldn't be a long ride, but the area usually had at least two grizzlies roaming about. But, maybe Caton's boy scared them off. She rode towards the cabins, carefully guiding Tank over fallen logs and around hidden rocks.

She dismounted when she could hear the voices of the other moonshiners, tying off Tank's lead. She didn't need to kill them, tainting the batch of shine should be enough to put the message across that they weren't welcome in Tall Trees. There were two men standing by the still, and everyone else was milling about keeping guard. She had to watch patiently for one of the stillers to move before she could get close enough.

Danny lingered by the window, carefully checking over her shoulder to make sure she was still hidden. It was more than a half hour before the second man wandered off to join the rest of the guards, giving Danny the opportunity she needed. She crawled in the window, wrapping her arm around the distiller's neck, choking off his air so he couldn’t scream for help.

“Oh, merciful Lord, may you guide this lost soul to your side,” Danny mumbled, carefully laying the mans lifeless body on the ground in front of the still. She reached into her satchel, pulling out the small flask of fox pee. She covered her mouth and nose so she didn’t have to smell the foul urine as she spun the cap with one finger. She quickly dumped the contents of the flask into the still and quickly capped it back up, letting out a quick chuckle.

“That oughta run you off,” she said quietly to herself. She poked her head out of the window, making sure the coast was clear so she could sneak back out of the camp. She had one foot out of the window when she heard the door open behind her. “Fuck,” she mumbled as the heard the hammer of the man’s revolver click back.

“Who the fuck are you,” he snapped as Danny pulled herself back into the small shack. She turned and looked at the man, looking down the barrel of his gun with a frown.

“I’m so fuckin’ sick of people shovin’ guns in my face. That’s who I am.” A look of confusion crossed the man’s face, giving Danny enough time to knock the gun aside so it wasn’t aimed at her. She closed the distance between them so the gun would be useless to him. She felt his fist strike her side, disturbing her burn. She hissed between her teeth, and she pulled her hunting knife from its place on her belt and shoved it into the soft place just under his chin, putting all of her weight under it to shove it through the soft and hard pallets of his mouth. He seized for a moment before his entire body went limp.

Danny pulled the knife out of his head, grimacing as blood spilled onto her hands. She shook her head, wiping his blood off of her knife and onto her jeans. She put it back into its sheath and went back to the window, waving her hand to try and flick some of the blood off of her hand. She once again made sure it was safe to slip out of the camp. She jumped out of the window, heading for Tank.

It wasn’t long before Danny was back at her own moonshine shack. She led Tank to the small stall Lem had helped her build, carefully removing his tack and brushing him down before feeding him. After she was done taking care of her horse, Danny walked to the back of the shack, bending over the wash barrel. She was in the middle of washing her hands when Marcel stepped out of the back door, a cigarette and a match in his hands.

“You look like hell,” the Frenchmen said with a laugh, lighting his match on the side of the shack. Danny chuckled and shook her head.

“Yeah, well, you try poisoning a still and killing two men and we’ll see how you look afterwards.” Marcel laughed a deep belly laugh, placing his cigarette between his lips.

“I’ll stick with making white lightning,” he said, laughing out a large cloud of smoke. Danny shook the water from her hands, using some of it to slick her hair back out of her face.

“I’ll go tell Maggie that we won’t have to worry about them undercutting us. If they even think about selling it, the customers are going to come running back to us in a second.” She patted Marcel’s shoulder before ducking back into the shack. She walked into Maggie’s office, her fingers working on loosening the buckle on her gun belt. “It’s done.” She hung her gun belt on the back of her chair, flopping down to kick off her boots. She noticed Maggie’s good eye notice the blood on her jeans, and she let out a sigh.

“One of them noticed me before I could sneak away. I didn’t have another choice.” Maggie shrugged and looked back down at the ledger.

“So long as the batch was ruined, I don’t really care,” she said, smirking. Danny rolled her eyes and shoved her sleeves up her arms.

“Great, well, if you need me, I’m going to be downstairs.” She stood up and headed down to the saloon, ready to drink away the memories of the day.

[writerunknownblog]

Emerald Green

I was polishing something at the counter when Gerald walked into the empty diner. I didn’t see it was him at first (I only heard the bell on the door) and, thinking that it was anyone else, I put away what I was shining and turned towards him with a large customer service-grin (It got real boring during these evening shifts, so I wanted to seem friendly). It slipped off as soon as I saw my brother, and gave a genuine one instead.

"Oh, hey Gerry!” 

He walked up to the counter and sat down on one of the white stools. He was still in his work clothes; the top button of his dress shirt was undone and his red tie was loosened. His black shoes were silent against the checkered linoleum, and his badge was shown prominently on his hip. He really did look like a detective on TV. 

“Hiya Johnny,” he said, “God, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

“Yeah? What happened?” I wasn’t really interested in his day, but I wanted to get him to talk while I made him his usual (A strawberry milkshake with two pumps of vanilla and chocolate syrup around the cup). 

He then began to drone on about how he was covering a murder, “Oh it was just this poor old women, lot’s of cats around too, so bloody paw prints just everywhere.” His co-worker, Danny, was talking about how it was some new serial murderer or something, when it was obviously an inheritance situation, “I mean, the old bat, rest her soul, was like ninety-two! She had quite an art collection too, any greedy kids would be dying to get their hands on that stuff.”

I gave him his glass and passed him his straw. 

“What about you Johnny?”

“What about me Ger’?”

“What do you think, some new murderer or was it for inheritance?” Gerry began to sip the milkshake; there was an interested look in his eyes. 

He usually liked to get my opinion on these situations, an outside perspective I guess. I was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be telling me any of this either, but I didn’t care; who doesn’t like a good murder story?

“Well...” I began to clean the blender, “How was she killed?”

“I told you, slit at the throat.”

“Yeah, but how was the slit? Was it more ripped and huge, or just what was needed to kill her?”

“I guess more on the lines of ripped and huge.”

“And where was she killed in the house?”

“We found her on the floor in the living room, laying face down. The blood pooled around her and that’s how the cats got into it.”

I was finished with the blender and put it on the drying rack.“Why then I’m thinking it was a murderer.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Well, if I was going to kill my dear ol’ mum, then I would try and make it as quick as possible. The cut is way more gruesome than needed, and she was on the floor. You would think that the kid that did it would do it while she was sleeping in bed or on a chair or something. This seems like someone just walked in a grabbed her from behind.” 

Gerry finished the milkshake and narrowed his eyes  “I get ya there, but who would want to kill that old lady if they got nothing to gain? All the art was still there, and none of the cash seems to be missing.”

“Maybe some jewelry? A necklace or bracelet she never took off, so there wasn’t a place for it anywhere. Plus, you said that the family hasn’t gone through her stuff or seen her body yet, and it isn’t something that they would think of asking about since she just died.”

“Heh, you got a good point there, I’ll take it into consideration. But I still think that it’s something to do with her art.”

He got up from his chair, stretching his arms.

“Well,” Gerry checked his watch, “I better get going, it’s Sam’s night for making dinner and they don’t like it when I’m late.”

“Always nice seeing ya Ger’, say hi to Sam for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.”

Gerry counted out the cash and placed it on the counter. 

“Have a good night bro! Remember, dinner on Saturday!”

“Six o’clock, I know. I’ll see ya then.”

Gerry walked out the door, into the still night. I was alone again. 

I cleaned up Gerry’s glass before turning back to what I was polishing before he came in. 

I shined off the last bit of blood before admiring it. 

The emerald necklace looked like new.