#he stands in an empty field doing nothing. staring at grass.

[adhd-merlin]

The way Elen saw it, Hunith was an odd woman, who had chosen as her bedfellow an even odder man, appeared and disappeared under odd circumstances, so it was no wonder that the child born from that union had turned out to be odd.

The way Elen's husband saw it, Hunith worked hard and minded her own business, which was more than could be said about some women (this last bit he would add with a pointed look to his wife).

The gods, however, had given Elen a pair of keen eyes as well as a sharp tongue, and she could see that ‘odd’ was the kindest word for Hunith's boy.

The signs were there from the start, back when Hunith refused to let other people see or handle her baby, which the women of the village had put down to grief for the loss of the boy's father. But the years passed, and the boy grew, and it became clear to Elen that there was something wrong with the child.

[tora-ken]

meeting you for the first time

genre fluff, gojo satoru x fem!reader

warnings none

wc; 873

please do not plagiarise or share my works on any other social media platforms. as always, reblogs are appreciated <3

“satoru? are you even listening?” his best friends, shoko and suguru wave a hand in front of his face, as they notice the white haired boy isn’t paying any attention.

“he’s spaced out again, what’s going on with him recently?” shoko mutters in annoyance, laying down against the grass as the three of them sit in an empty field, away from the noise.

satoru isn’t too sure why he’s spacing out again, in fact he’s not sure why he’s acting this way at all. everything just seems so plain, so boring. he should be happy really, for once in his life, everything is peaceful, his parents aren’t nagging at him to ask if he’s finally decided what university he wants to go off to, his aunts and uncles haven’t come to visit in a while, which means he doesn’t have to deal with more questions of what he’s going to do with his future. the teachers at his school, although they do try, don’t come up to him to ask about why he’s been skipping detention and not doing his homework. despite all this peace, he finds no meaning.

“satoru! you’re doing it again!” this time it’s suguru who snaps him out of his daze, “what are you even thinking about?”

“nothing,” he huffs, laying down on his stomach, “absolutely nothing, that’s the problem.” shoko and suguru share a confused expression, before staring back at their friend.

“alright, you…you do that man…” suguru pats his shoulder before standing up, “how about we go to the café near mine? they’re serving pancakes for half price today.” satoru’s ear twitches, and he jumps right up, his lethargy suddenly dissipating the moment suguru mentions ‘pancakes’.

the three of them, with satoru tucked between suguru and shoko, pace down the streets towards their signature café, talking idly about everything and nothing, except that satoru is gazing off again, looking straight ahead of him, without a thought in his eyes.

the street is bustling with life, children running around the park across the road, cars politely following the speed limit, the cyclists ringing their bells to let people know they’re coming by, well, some of the cyclists—

“hey- hey watch out!” a scream wakes satoru out of his stupor, and the cyclist crashes into satoru, the both of them falling stupidly on their asses.

“what the hell, why didn’t you ring your fu-“ he pauses in awe.

“i’m so so so sorry, my bell isn’t working, and my brakes are broken i’ve been meaning to get them fixed — i swear i was on my way to fix them, the bike repair shop is right down there, i’m so sorry for hurting you, oh my god are you okay—my cupcakes!” you ramble on before him, and it’s like satoru’s been introduced to paradise.

“it-it’s okay…” amazed, he stands up, and picks your bike up as you pick up the crushed cupcakes on the ground, salvaging what you can, and he watches in reverence as your hair falls down your face, only for you to push it back behind your ear, picking up the next cupcake.

“god, this is all my fault, is there anything i can do to fix this, i’m so sorry, i ripped your trousers, do you want money? a cupcake? oh my god-“ you try to offer him one of the cupcakes that weren’t destroyed, to fix the rip on satoru’s trousers.

“hey! it’s fine…you don’t need to do anything, except maybe get that bike fixed.” he sputters out, you were so beautiful.

all of a sudden, the world was colourful, he could hear the children’s laughs, smell the fresh scent of the pancakes being made right down the street where he was meant to be, and most of all—he noticed how bright your eyes were.

shoko and suguru watch, with jaws dropped as their lifeless best friend stares at the stranger before them in utter adoration, before they look at each other and hold it in themselves to not laugh out loud.

“um, i’m really sorry to do this, but i need to go fix this bike, but i’ll pay you back for your trousers, just find me somehow, my name is y/n!” you shout across the street, as you put the cupcakes back in the broken basket, and cycle off again chaotically.

he stares at you until you disappear again, his heart beating 100 miles a minute. “i just met the love of my life.” satoru almost melts into the ground as he remembers how mesmerising you were, as messy as you were, and he dreams of an entire life with you.

“oh we know…” suguru laughs.

“how is she going to be the love of your life if you probably won’t see her again?” shoko interrupts, breaking satoru out of his daydream, and he turns around to run down the direction where you cycled off.

“satoru??” his best friends scream in unison as he disappears.

“i’m going to find her, i’ll be right back!” and he skedaddles down the same corner you turned, to find that stupid bike repair shop, to find you.

and satoru gojo thinks that maybe life isn’t so boring, if someone as ethereal as you exists in it.

a/n: hope u enjoyed my attempt at fluff !!

©️tora-ken 2024

[raven-dor]

can you write a fem reader x James Potter where she like has an anxiety attackat like 3 am bc her parents say she isn't getting good enough grades and that they're gonna pull her out of Hogwarts and so he like calms her down?

drink some water and eat something <3

also can I be :3 anon?

stay with me

In which james potter comforts his best friends twin sister

PAIRING: james potter x sirius black's twin!reader

WARNINGS: anxiety attack, horrible parenting, mentions of abuse, self-esteem issues, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

AN: loved writing this!! as someone who craves academic validation, this was kind of healing to put into the world <3

Her hands shook as she stared at the letter her parents had sent her. It had been the fifth one this month, not that she was counting. And they were all the same: vile insults of her knowledge and constant reminders that her brother was a better student than she would ever be. 

She laughed when they had said it the first time, telling them that “comparing anyone to Regulus, and he’s a better student.” Her mother had smacked her for that. 

This letter had been the worst of them. Her parents knew how to get a rise out of her, stating that if she did not better herself, she’d be pulled from Hogwarts before she could graduate. And even worse, if she was pulled, they would marry her off to Amycus Carrow, the insufferable twat. 

Her head of house had pulled her aside weeks ago, telling her that she was doing poorly in her classes, stating that he knew of multiple tutors who could help her fix them. She ignored his offer; after all, if she had wanted help, she would have asked Remus. 

It was late; curfew had passed hours ago, but she still stumbled through the halls, hyperventilating. She’d told herself she needed fresh air, but that hadn’t helped. Then she thought a walk would help; also useless. Now, she was just choking on her tears in the hall, hoping Filch didn’t find her. She was used to it, the constant belittling by her own mother and father. Even her cousins contributed. At first, it hadn’t bothered her; if her family had nothing better to do than insult her, they should feel free. 

Eventually, their insults warped her mind. She became a shell of her former self, no longer cracking jokes or teasing her brothers and friends. She sat in the corner of the library, reading the pages of her textbooks over and over until her mind felt numb. Sirius had tried to cheer her up constantly, one of his attempts resulting in a detention. 

A breeze pulled her down the dark corridor, the night sky visible at the end. Maybe sitting by the Black Lake or lying on the grassy hill would help her calm down. She sniffled, pulling her robe closer to herself. The Quidditch pitch was empty; she was sure of it. The grass there was well-kept, thanks to the gamekeeper. She pushed past the cloth, the great field standing before her. 

She ran to the middle, falling to the ground in a completely undignified manner. If her mother were here, she’d scold her. “That is no way for a lady to sit.” She could hear her, even hundreds of miles away. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the voices that attacked her. Her heart pumped harder, beating against her chest. She gasped, rubbing her hand in circular motions, grounding herself. “You are no daughter of mine.” That is what her mother had said in the letter, the last thing she said before she signed off with her perfect penmanship. “You are no daughter of mine.” 

Y/N laughed. She didn’t want to be her daughter anyway. Sadly, she did not have a choice in that matter; Walburga had pushed her out 17 years ago, and here she was. Sobbing violently in the middle of the night on the grass.

Most likely the best thing Y/N Black would ever do.

She couldn’t get her grades up, no matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t be the perfect daughter, and she couldn’t be normal. A normal person, she told herself, wouldn’t be sobbing over her horrible grades. “You are no normal person, Y/N.” Her father would say. “You are a Black.”  

She brought her hands to her face, shaking her head. She murmured to herself, hiccuping every so often. A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped, ripping her hands from her face. “Y/N?”

James. 

He smiled lightly. “Are you alright, love?” 

She sat up, wiping away the tears that still flowed. “I’m fine, Jamie. Don’t worry about it.” She stood, smiling. “Have fun.” 

He stood in front of her, blocking her escape. “I wouldn’t say you’re fine. You’re crying.” 

She scoffed. “Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” She stepped around him, speaking over her shoulder. “Drop it.” 

His hand wrapped around her wrist, holding her in place. “Indulge me.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “Sometimes I forget to breathe, and I do these exercises to help regulate myself.” He smiled. “Can you do it with me? It would really help me if you played along.” 

She knew he was tricking her, but she didn’t really care. “Sure, James.” 

He nodded. “Just breathe in for five, hold for two, exhale for five.” He smirked, nudging her shoulder. “Works wonders.” 

She tried not to roll her eyes, following along. God, she hated it when he was right. He often was, too; that was the horrible thing. James tried to play the dumb jock stereotype, but he was brilliant in Transfiguration, DADA, and Potions. It irked her to no end that James was not only a great quidditch player but an amazing student, friend, and person. 

They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “Do you want to tell me what had you so worked up?” She shook her head. He sighed, holding her hands in his. “Can I guess then?” 

“Be my guest, Potter.” 

“Dear old mum and dad.” He raised his eyebrow, smiling lightly. “Am I right?” 

“Once again.” She nodded. “You know how they are.” 

He nodded back. “I do. But I’ve never seen you this upset over something they’ve done.” He whispered softly. “You don’t have to tell me, but you need to know I hate seeing you like this.” 

“Am I that hideous when I cry?” She laughed. “I’ll try to refrain from violently sobbing next time.” 

“Don’t do that.” He rubbed her cheek, smiling when a blush formed. “You’ve never been hideous a day in your life, Y/N. And you never will be.” 

She scoffed. “You flatter me too much, James.” 

“I only tell the truth.” Their hands swayed in between them. 

“They told me they were going to pull me out of school because my grades were so poor.” She murmured. “Don’t they know I’m trying?” 

“Your parents are unforgiving and cold. They disowned Sirius, for Merlin’s sake.” He pulled her closer, leaning down. “You know they have no logical thoughts.” 

“I know.” 

“I know you’re trying,” James smirked. “And honestly, that’s all that matters.” 

“How could I forget?” Y/N laughed. “The great James Potter, in all his infinite wisdom, strikes again.” 

“Is there…” He sighed. “Is there anything else?” 

“If they pull me out, they’ve already promised Amycus Carrow that we will be married.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “My worst nightmare come to life.” 

James gasped, visibly disgusted. “Merlin, I knew your mother was a horrible person, but to promise you to him-” He shivered. “She really has no love in her heart.” 

“She does.” Y/N corrected. “It’s reserved for Regulus.” 

“Ah.” He sighed. “You know you’re a good student, right?” 

She glared, trying to pull her hands out of her grip. “Don’t be mean.” 

“I’m not, I swear. You are an amazing student. Remember when you helped me with DADA? Last week? I would have completely failed if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Nonsense.” She blushed. “You would have been fine. DADA’s your best subject.” 

He laughed. “Maybe. But because of you, we’ll never know.” He giggled, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re my hero, Y/N Black.” 

She shoved him away, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Shut it, you.” 

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, walking them out of the Quidditch Pitch. “I could use a hot cocoa. What about you?” 

“Cider sounds better.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Cider it is.” 

The kitchens were luckily not far from the pitch, and with one tickle of the pear, the door opened, not a single house elf in sight. Y/N settled into one of the two large leather seats, staring into the fire. “It’s my fault they don’t love me.” 

“What?” James scoffed, kneeling in front of her. “Why would you say that?” 

“I should have been a better daughter. If I had spent less time-” 

“Living? Y/N, listen to me. You are doing your best. And if they can’t see that, then that’s their problem. You, Sirius, and Regulus are better off without them.” 

“Sirius and Regulus, maybe.” She mumbled. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“It?” 

“Happiness.” 

James shook his head. “Never say that again. If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. You- You deserve everything.” He brought his hands up to her cheeks. “Everything.”

She blushed. “James-” 

“Say it.” He looked at her rather dangerously; her stomach flipped. “Say you deserve everything.” 

“I don’t-” A hand tickled her side, and she gasped. “James!” 

He grinned, tickling her incessantly. “Say it, and I’ll stop!” 

“I- I deserve- I deserve everything!” She cackled, panting from the sudden attack. “I deserve everything.” 

He nodded, looking much too pleased with himself. “Good.” He stood up, grabbing her mug. “My lady.” 

She scoffed. “The least you could do after your violent attack.” 

“Please.” He smirked. “You know you love me.” 

“How exactly did you know I was on the Quidditch Pitch, hm?” She raised her eyebrow. “Were you following me on your little map?” 

He blushed, taking a sip of his cider. She smiled to herself. “That’s what I thought.” 

[takingstockofwhatmattersmost]

Emily Laughs

Emily’s out there in that empty field kicking her heels through the dead grass fingers stained with ink and dirt the sky burning down around her

Death shows up looking like some washed-up lover all tired eyes...white-washed skin and thin cigarette smoke he doesn’t knock doesn’t say a damn word just stands there...waiting leaning against

nothing

she looks at him shrugs meaning..."what do you want me to say?" Emily’s got stacks of poems hidden in the floorboards and half a heart buried right along with them

Death follows her inside takes a seat like he owns the place watches her scribble down words like they’ll save her from something big, dark, save her from........him and he's closing in fast she reads him a few lines but he just stares blankly Emily laughs at him laughs at herself the whole damn thing life love whatever it is she’s already halfway out the door anyway but Death doesn’t budge just sits there...patiently

there’s no, some, so much love here no big gestures or glory though just two people stuck in a room with everything left unsaid between them and that will have to be

enough

[kings-highway]

Haikyuu Captain Squad Flash Fiction: Miniature Rocket

---

Bokuto comes back from a summer holiday, and one of the first things he does is knock on Kuroo's door. He holds up the box that he's holding - "Look what I got," he says, grinning. "It's a miniature rocket. Apparently it can launch like a hundred feet high. Can you help me build it?"

Kuroo is a little skeptical, but his interest in launching a rocket gets the better of him. Plus, he's pretty sure Bokuto will light a fire if left unattended with this thing.

So he agrees, and they head out to an empty park field that morning to go build the thing. Kuroo likes to think he's pretty good at this sort of activity, but after about an hour and six separate arguements, he throws the piece he was holding down into the grass.

"Dude, this is impossible. We need help," Bokuto groans, flopping into the grass.

Kuroo thinks about this for a moment, before making a call on his phone.

- When Daichi arrives to help, he finds the two boys rather dispairingly stretched out in the grass.

"Why do you think I'll be able to help?" he asks, sitting down with them and beginning to look at the pieces.

"I dunno, you're like, good with this kinda stuff, yeah? Like the building stuff."

Daichi stares at Bokuto for a second before looking at the rocket again, and deciding he may as well give it a go. Unfortunately, thirty minutes of frustrating confusion later and they've made no progress.

"You know who might be able to help?" Daichi says, pulling out his phone.

- Ushijima is next to arrive on scene, standing above them and staring down at the three idiots as they go through the pieces and explain what they think they're supposed to do.

"Are there not instructions?" Ushijima asks, frowning.

Daichi has the good sense to seem embarassed, scratching at the back of his neck before nodding to the other boys. "I just assumed if they needed help there hadn't been any."

"I... didn't check..." Kuroo mumbles.

Ushijima turns to find the box, digging around inside to produce a small folded booklet for instructions.

"Alright, bud," Kuroo calls. "Just tell us what to do and we'll do it."

"I cannot."

"Excuse me?"

Ushijima looks over to them. "I cannot read it. Where did you buy this?"

"Mexico," Bokuto says, prompting Kuroo to plant his face into the grass.

"Give me a moment," Ushijima says, turning away to make a phone call.

- "Alright... so... no, put the long piece... yeah, just connect it in like that-" Oikawa honestly wasn't so thrilled at being dragged out here mid-afternoon, but he hadn't had anything better to do. Daichi and Kuroo are both covered in grass stains by now, but at least they're almost done. "Okay, then- wait, shit, sorry - we're gonna need the wigglymajig back-"

"I thought you knew how to read Spanish," Bokuto frowns, where he's standing over Oikawa's shoulder and pretending he's helping.

"Yeah, everyday normal words," Oikawa replies. "I didn't exactly study my engineering vocabulary, this shit is complicated."

"It's just a toy," Ushijima says.

"You're just a toy, shut the hell up."

Either way, after about two hours of guided help, they have arranged the rocket and managed to get it's innards working to the best of their abilities. They set it up on it's launch pad, and all scramble back the reccomended distance.

"Alright, blast off!" Bokuto says.

Nothing.

"Blast. Off," Bokuto repeats, annoyed.

Still nothing.

"Did we do-"

The question Daichi was about to ask, 'did we do something wrong,' is immediately answered by the rocket exploding into a million pieces, making them all jump and flinch back as it's plastic is scattered in all directions.

[nathancomet]

Mini Harco/Drarry Fanfic #2

[During their third year, Slytherin and Gryffindor get into a major fight about who would have won the Quidditch Cup last year, had it not been interrupted by the Chamber of Secrets. They decide to settle it with a make-up quidditch match. Draco is hit by a bludger square in the chest, getting knocked off his broom. Abandoning a nosedive with the golden snitch, Harry soars up to save him.]

FWOOSH. Harry reached out, fingertips extending, when Malfoy crashed into his arms. No longer free-falling, Malfoy let out a shocked gasp. His hands clung to Harry, trembling. With a grunt of effort Harry pulled him securely onto his broom, Malfoy threw his arms around Harry.

“Potter!” Malfoy yelped, stunned. “What are you doing?!”

“Are you alright?” Harry yelled over the screams of the crowd, wind roaring in his ears. 

“I don’t need your help,” Malfoy grunted, but his grip around Harry never loosened. “You can still win, you nimrod!”

Harry ignored him. “Just hold on,” he said, coasting down to the field. His toes grazing the ground, Harry realized the bent way Malfoy was standing, clutching his chest. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked, propping Draco up against him.

“Blasted bludger,” Malfoy grunted. “I think it broke some of my ribs.”

Harry blanched, staring at him with the terror of someone who knew nothing about medicine. Did I break something worse by catching him on my broom? Concern shining in his eyes, Harry eased him down onto the grass.

“Egh,” Malfoy whimpered, tears of pain pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

“You know you’ve forfeited the game by helping me, right?” Draco said through clenched teeth. Harry kept hold of him, watching the stands empty out, his teammates  running toward them. “I know,” Harry shrugged. “Steer clear of bludgers next time, and I’ll crush you.”

Draco snickered- “In your dreams, Potter.”

[pomegranateboba]

Favourite (Vega)

CW: angst, kinda delulu vega, this fic was shorterr than I thought but who cares

"You'll always be my favourite."

You looked over at Vega. Both of you were still young, barely reaching 6. Vega turned away, his face flushed with a shade of pink that stood out against his pale complexion. You put down the flowers you were holding, excitedly going over to plop yourself next to him on the grass.

"Really? I am?!" You asked, trying to get a better look at Vega's face.

Vega felt his face grow even warmer, as your innocent self shifts even closer to him.

He nods, too embarrassed to say a word. You, on the other hand, had perked up at his action. A huge smile on your face, you wrap your arms around him in a bear hug. "Well, you're my favourite too!" You beamed.

"...Really?" Vega mumbled, face still turned away from you.

"Mhm hm!" You nodded earnestly. "Wait, hold on," You ran back to your place, picking up a flower, one you didn't know the name and symbolism of yet, and passing it to him. "Here." You put the flower in his hands.

Vega stared at the flower, a small bashful smile making its way onto his face.

"Thank you."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He shouldn't be doing this.

He shouldn't be following you, stalking you like this.

But he needed to know if his summoner his safe.

Vega walked quietly, a good distance behind you. Where were you going? Why are you going away from him? Was he not enough for you?

His heart sank when he found you in a field, chatting happily to someone that wasn't him.

It wasn't fair that you had to spend so much time with other people. It wasn't fair that he couldn't have your undivided attention.

His hand clenched around the hilt of his rapier, before loosening his grip. No, he can't do this. It's not right.

His other hand fiddled with the stalk of a flower. Not the exact flower you gave him as children, but it was the same type.

Gloved fingers traced over the petals of the red carnation. As a child, he didn't recognise the symbolism of the flower he received. But how he knew, didn't he? What you gave him that day was basically a confession of your feelings right?

You liked, no, you loved him, right?

Then, how come you still talk to them? Why can't you spend more time with him? Did you hate him now? His heart twisted unpleasantly at the thought.

No it can't be. You've been so kind to him, there's nothing wrong with you. He chided himself, how could he ever doubt your feelings? You were absolutely perfect, kinder than any saint, smarter than any mage, more beautiful than any star.

No, the problem wasn't with you. Nor was it with him.

It was with them. How dare they take you away from him. How dare they steal away your time and attention from him.

It's not fair. You loved him first, no?

Then, he thought about how you were always so kind, so willing to put yourself in danger for others. Of course, he loved you for that, but it can get rather...irritating when you bother saving the other sorcerers. They don't know you like he did, so why do you care so much for them?

Vega quickly made his leave when he saw you and them stand up, slipping away into an empty room. Closing the door quietly behind him, he sat down.

He fiddled with the carnation, before plucking its petals, watching them fall gently to the floor.

You love him, you love him not, you love him, you love him not.

You love him.

A giddy smile made his way onto his face. Of course you love him, why did he ever doubt you?

You'll always be his favourite.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

I wrote this starving to death, about to throw up, having a huge headache and in the middle of math class, but Vega shall prevail 🙏

[theonetruegnome]

The Tag incident

Dandy was looking wildly around her, fearful yet defiant of what she might see. The field seemed empty though, so she allowed herself to bend double and catch her breath. her limbs were heavy and lungs empty. She looked up and saw one behind her, the guard with the electric truncheon running after her.

'Come on, can't a gal get a decent rest these days?!' She said with perfect Hollywood movie inflection. She couldn't wait up, he was getting closer all the while. She ran off, running for dear life, the guard yelling after for her to stop and return to the facility. Dandy didn't listen, she couldn't go back, couldn't stand another ten years in that concrete hell box. Her legs pumped furiously and the figure began to fall behind. She looked back and smirked.

'Not so tough now are ya?'

A purple chicken suddenly jumped from the trees and knocked the bun to the ground, simultaneously bringing her back to reality.

'Tag! Gotcha Dandy!'

Conk lifted himself off of Dandy's chest and adjusted his scarf. Dandy looked up at the chicken smiling down at her.

'Why'd you have to go and do that?! I was just getting into it!'

'Sorry, but it's your own *Yawn* Fuh-Fault for being so airheaded. I just took advantage of it' Conk took a moment to stretch and limber up. 'Well, I best be off. Oh, and Leah just got Mana, so don't bother going after her'

Before Dandy could reach up to tag him back, he was off and running. She slowly got to her feet and retraced her steps, eventually coming back to where the candy-pink dog had stopped. Munch was panting and clutching his stomach, moaning slightly.

'Woah, you ok dude?' Dandy was concerned for her friend, he looked really uncomfortable.

'No. My stomach *oof* really hurts.'

'Well, you shouldn't have had all those milkshakes on an empty stomach then, it probably messed up your insides. The running also probably didn't help.'

'But it made me happy! Oww... You're probably right though. I'll catch up, just gotta *URP* let it die down.'

Dandy nodded at Munch then ran off and scoped out the scene.

Now that she had stopped imagining herself as a cool convict Significantly Less cool version of herself, she could see the others running around properly. Eli had a laughing Leah on his shoulders with SunnyShoat following along. Callum was being chased by Mana and looked frankly terrified, while Conk appeared to have crashed in a patch of Dahlias about ten feet from where he tagged Dandy. She had to carefully choose her prey. Conk was a no-go. He wouldn't realise he was tagged and it would confuse everyone. Callum was being dealt with by Mana, so that's a no-go. Eli was protecting Leah, and he could outrun any of them. The only choice was sunny, she'd have to just outlast her.

'Heeeere comes Dandy!!'

The rabbit sprang out and began to sprint towards Sunny, who had already turned tail and began to run. The wind whipping her ears back, the sweet grass beneath her feet, her friends all running around and having fun... Nothing could be better than this. 'FZZNZZT

Hoppy was already catching up to picky, she could see the pig beginning to slow down and get tired. Wait, who was that ahead of her? She didn't know a Picky! She looked down. 'Green? But I'm... Why am I green?! Guys why am I green?!!' Hoppy stared at her hands in horror, her beautiful golden fur now a sickly peppermint green. Picky looked back at her friend and Gasped at the stranger in her place. GZZZRRZZ

Dandy dropped to the ground. 'No. No no no no no!' she whispered, still staring at those hands, those awful, green... hands... Her head cocked to the side in confusion as she turned them over and over. Though the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, she saw them, coloured sunny like wheat, not peppermint. 'But... just now... they were...' She felt a presence and looked up. Her friends had all run over, even Conk-out and Munchypup. Leah jumped down from Eli's shoulders and moved slowly closer.

'Dandy? Are you ok? What were you crying about?' Leah was worried, what if she had hurt herself?

I... I can't remember. *Sniffle* Never mind Leah. If I can't remember it, it mustn't matter, right?'

'I guess so. Just look after yourself alright? You and Eli are always injuring yourselves!'

'Ha! No chance!' She quickly looked over to munch and Mana and winked. The two smiled but quickly reshaped their faces into expressions of concern. 'Oh! One last thing Leah.'

'Yeah?' Dandy clapped her on the shoulder and leant down to whisper in her ear.

'You're it.'

Like lighting, Mana tapped Callum and Munch smacked Eli on the head, yelling 'YOU'RE IT!' and the three fiends sped off in different directions.

Leah and Callum went after Mana and Dandy, while Eli charged after Munch.

Sunny was still confused. She could have sworn she saw something, but what? It was like somebody had scooped the last five minutes of her memory out with a spoon.

'Hey, Conk, did you see-'

'No miss, my dad ate my homework... ZZZzzzz... Munch wasn't hungry enough...'

Sunny was about to wake up the Cockerel when she heard a 'Woah!' an enormous crash echoed around, and a high scream went up;

'AAAIIEEEEEEE!'

Sunny ran over to Munch to see Eli laying on top of him, dazed. One of his tusks was jammed into Munch's chest.

'Oh god man, I'm so sorry! I just tripped and-'

'What's going on?!'

'Oh God, Munchy!!'

'Ok, ok! Everyone back up! Come on Eli up you get. Come on, up, you're crushing him! Ok Munch, we're going to go home and your Mom or Dad'll take you to a doctor ok? Ok. We're going to have to walk but we'll support you. You guys keep playing, we'll be back soon! Eli? Help?'

'Yeah, got it cap.'

As the two carried the crying pupper back home, sunny's mind was distracted by Munch being in pain, leaving her subconscious to fill in the cracks until it all seemed like a weird nightmare.

Did you enjoy? If there is anything I can improve upon, please tell me! I N E E D T O K N O W

[sparksbynightfall]

C1 - Episode 1 : After Hours

Stars, stars everywhere ... as far as the eye can see.

I was lying on the grass under what looked like an endless night sky, and everywhere I turned, there was nothing but stars. Although my dreams had taken a different turn ... this time, I welcomed the change of pace and just enjoyed it for what it was. The grass beneath me felt soft and comforting, like a warm blanket.

I decided to get up, not knowing what else to do but stare. Maybe I could find something else if I went elsewhere. Surely, I thought to myself, there’s more than the sky here considering what I’ve been through in my previous dreams. 

I started to walk through the grassy field, not sure where it would take me but anything’s better than sitting around. Even though I appreciated how peaceful this dream was, I still wanted to wake up eventually. Only the sounds of my feet grazing against the grass and the occasional heartbeats. It was starting to creep me out a little …

After what seemed like a long walk around, I finally saw something that wasn’t grass. It was a beacon … or what I thought was one as it stood still. There was no wind to stir it, but despite its stillness, I ran towards it, eager to discover what it was.

That’s when I saw her, a Cresselia, an actual Cresselia was there, just standing by the grass with what looked like fireflies dancing around her. I was seeing multi-colored fireflies which was pretty mesmerizing. 

As I drew closer, more details of her form became visible. She wasn't responding as I came face to face with her though. She stood as stiff as a statue, her eyes closed as if she was peacefully sleeping while standing up.

Some of the fireflies seemed to notice me as a few of them appeared around me, dancing around with their tiny wings. I was about to sit down when I felt someone shift. 

The Cresselia opened her eyes, most of the glow that was covering her before disappeared revealing what she really looked like. The details were a bit blurry but I can still see what she was. 

She wore a white dress, not too long but it made her look almost like an angel. There was a pink gem attached to her chest which looked ... broken? At least that's what I thought I saw as it looked like it was broken from the inside yet there was still a pink glow coming out of it. 

Her wings didn't look like the ones typical for a Cresselia as it roughly looked like a Vivillion's wings made of glass. They seemed as if they could break easily at the slightest touch.

"Protect her... for me..." the Cresselia spoke, her voice fragile and fading, the light in her chest formed a large hole, slowly melting into the colors of the night sky. Her voice was fading away like she was being pulled back. "Bring ... her back ..." 

I didn't know why but I had the instinct to reach out, stretching out my paw towards her. I didn't even realize that my legs were making me go to her. I could only call out as she was literally fading into the night. 

"Hey, are you okay-"

Suddenly, everything went silent. The stars above seemed to multiply, the grassy ground beneath me turning into a swirl of more stars, some crashing into each other forming bigger stars. My outstretched paw met only empty air as the grass disappeared, leaving me floating in the sea of stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So ... who exactly is the First Star?" 

Class is finally over and it's the start of the weekend for most of us at Sinnoh High. It would be a perfect time to relax after a long week but apparently, Lucia had other plans because of the whole Star Guardian thing. She left a not-so-subtle note on my locker as I was about to head out of the campus.

Favonius, my Shaymin companion, and I were walking down towards the Jubilife TV station when I asked a question to him. It's been something that's been weighing on my mind for a while.

"Ah yes, the First Star! The one who started it all!" I can tell he was pretty excited when I asked that. I guess they're someone who's pretty important. 

"A long time ago, back when the world was dark … there was a spark of light. Fearing that she would never be seen, she glowed as brightly as she could. Eventually, more like her would join in, slowly filling the once dark sky with them …

... as the first star who appeared all those eons ago, she was determined to make sure all of the other stars would shine for all eternity. So she took out some of her own light and scattered it across the universe. That's where the Star Guardians come in … each and every one of them holds a small piece of the First Star's light." 

There was a short pause from Favonius before turning to look at me. "And that's pretty much all I know. It's the same old story that's been passed around."

I have to admit, I was touched by the story. Now I was even more curious after hearing the First Star. Who knew it would be this important? I wonder if there's more Guardians out there … 

We reached the rooftop of the TV station where Lucia and her Azelf companion Mai had been waiting. The rooftop doubled as a popular hangout spot, offering a panoramic view of the city. It was one of the tallest buildings around, and if you ask me, I'm still not used to being in high places. Nevertheless, it's pretty cool that they let people use this rooftop as a place to hang out.

"Hey, you've arrived! Sorry for the short notice there. This was the only time I was available." Lucia was in her usual cheery self with Mai silently waving at us.

"It's cool, but are you really sure this is the best place? It's way high up off the ground..." I did voice my concern, eyeing the rooftop with a bit of unease. I hadn't imagined my first training session as a Star Guardian would take place on such a high perch, but Lucia had insisted we start right after Friday class. So much for a relaxing evening, I guess. 

Lucia shrugged, with her aura of confidence as always. "It'll be fine, trust me! That reminds me that I should teach you Cosmic Flight next time. Flying's much better than walking if you ask me. Just have to do it one step at a time!"

Despite Lucia's reassurances, my stomach fluttered nervously. Flying? That sounded both breathtaking and terrifying at the same time. I hoped Lucia knew what she was doing.

"Wouldn't it be better for us to do this at the park? Usually, there's only a few people at this time," I suggested to her, eyeing the rooftop's edge.

"The folks at the park wouldn't be too happy having a stray star destroying the place now, would they? I don't want anyone finding out too soon." Lucia made a hushing motion when she said that. 

"Right right I forgot to tell you that … best if we lay low for the meantime. We wouldn't want to attract a bad crowd." Favonius added, before jumping over to a nearby bench. "Speaking of laying low … I'll get some shuteye while you do your thing. Cafè work is tiring I tell you." 

Just like that, Favonius was now curled up and took a nap. It's a good thing he got a job at the local cafè that way he'd have something to do while I was away at school. 

We both transformed into our Guardian forms, and I have to admit, I'm still getting used to it. The sensation of starlight enveloping me was strange yet oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a gentle, cosmic embrace. My clothes dissolved into shimmering particles, replaced by an outfit that materialized from whatever light was nearby.

The dress that appeared on me was elegant but not too fancy, with hues of bright pink and mint green weaving together in intricate designs. It fit snugly but comfortably as if it had been tailored just for me. Whoever granted us these powers seemed to know exactly what we needed, down to the smallest detail. 

I gripped my staff as it appeared before me, I felt its weight and how solid it was in my hands. The staff was simple yet beautiful, it reminded me of those scepters that queens always had with them. The tip of the staff was an elegantly designed crescent moon put right in the middle of a bright pink heart. Beside me, Lucia stood with her bracelets adorned with lavender gems that matched the accents on her Guardian attire, somehow she looked even more confident like that. 

"Looking great! Alright, let's get this started. I've got some basic moves we can try out," Lucia said with an encouraging smile, her tone was reassuring and I could tell she was very excited about this.

I never really considered myself a fighter. That was more Cipher's thing. Pokemon moves are already challenging enough, but Starlit Moves were on a different level. Stars aren't the easiest thing to control and I had been warned of the potential dangers if you're not careful.

The rooftop was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows as Lucia and I faced each other. I adjusted my grip on the staff, feeling its weight in my hands. 

"Ready?" Lucia's voice rang through the quiet air, her tone daring and motivating at the same time.

I nodded, swallowing my nerves. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Lucia grinned, her bracelets shimmering just as she was about to enter combat. "Good. Let's begin."

With that, we launched into our training session. Despite my anxiety, I managed to use Stellar Swift, summoning 3 bright pinks with a flick of my staff and flinging them at Lucia . Lucia, positioned opposite to me, raised her arms, her bracelets showing arcs of lavender energy that crackled through the air as she effortlessly deflected my attack.

With each exchange, I focused on deflecting Lucia's attacks with my staff, feeling myself strain a bit. Her techniques were as accurate as it was powerful, each burst of energy challenging me to think and react fast. The rooftop echoed with the sound of our movements.

It was a small victory when I managed to deflect a powerful Astral Sphere from Lucia, the energy scattering into the now orange sky. Despite how extreme the training was, it felt nice to see progress, even if it was just a few techniques learned in this last minute session. The hours had passed by, each moment filled with new challenges and a few surprises, it felt like an entire day had passed by despite only training for a few short hours.

"Looks like we're making progress! Stellar Swift is really easy to master once you get the hang of it, but we might need to work on the rest," Lucia remarked with a smile, turning back into her usual form. Mai, still lost in her thoughts, stared up at the sky before Lucia nudged her gently. "Anything to add, Mai?"

"Hmm? Oh! Uhh ... you did great!" Mai replied absentmindedly, a small smile spreading across her face. 

I wonder what she was thinking about. That might just be something I'll know when she talks about it ...

Favonius was fast asleep while all of this was going on. He must have been a heavy sleeper as he didn't seem to stir a bit. 

"I guess we can call it a day. It's getting pretty late and I have things to do back home." Lucia did a little stretching and dusted herself off. "We can continue some other time. For now, just enjoy the weekend."  

"Yeah, I-" 

I reached for my staff as I was replying, however, I clumsily grabbed it the wrong way, causing a burst of stray starlight to shoot unexpectedly toward Lucia. She barely had time to react before it struck her arm, and she gasped in surprise.

"Oh no ... I'm so sorry ... are you hurt?" I quickly ran to her with my staff in tow. Thoughts were running through my head as Mai also had a look of deep concern. 

"Ack! Hey, it's alright ... No harm done ..." Lucia managed a small, strained laugh despite clutching her arm and struggling to stand. "It's just a Stellar Focus Blast..."

I instinctively held her arm, thinking of something I could do to fix this. I needed to help somehow even when Lucia wasn't bothered by what happened. As soon as I touched her with the tip of my paw, I felt a warm glow.

Wait, this is ... this seems familiar ... could it be ...?

An orange light began to glow, looking like a tiny campfire. It stayed there for a bit before Gracidea petals danced around it and vanished as suddenly as they appeared. I stared at Lucia's arm for a moment and noticed that the scratch had healed completely as if it had never even been there. 

When I looked back at Lucia, I saw her staring at her arm in disbelief before she looked up at me. I could hear Mai breathing a sigh of relief as she realized what had happened. 

"This is ... incredible! A healer isn't easy to come by. Looks like we got one more lesson after all." Lucia stood up though she didn't transform this time which was her go-to when we started our training earlier. She was still determined from before as she gave Mai another light nudge.  "Mai? Hit me with your best Dazzling Gleam if you will!" 

"What!?!" Both me and Mai gave each other a look of disbelief. Of course, Mai had to know what she was up to when she decided that out of nowhere. "Lucia, do you hear yourself? You've just been hit earlier with an attack ..." 

There was a pause for a bit before Lucia gave her confident smile. "I did say I was going to find new guardians whatever it takes. This is our chance to prove we still have it in us! I’ll be fine, Mai. You know that, right?" Mai nodded her head with a little bit of hesitation, readying an attack. 

Lucia turned back to me as I got up. "Ready yourself, Elle. Just keep your paw where it is, alright?" I hesitantly held out my paw towards her and just nodded. I was also as hesitant as Mai and was hoping Lucia knew exactly what she was doing with this. 

With that Mai unleashed her attack, and a bright pink beam of stardust shot out into Lucia's direction. I concentrated hard as the orange glow started back up again, covering her as she stood there. Despite the attack being directed at her, she didn’t even flinch. 

There was silence for a bit before Lucia finally spoke up. She managed to tough it out but I noticed a few scratches here and there. She smiled back at me again and let out a tired sigh. 

"Well, that was pretty close. It's a good thing you were there to heal me up, Elle. Great work today!" Mai had to heal her up back to full before giving me a thumbs up. As reckless as Lucia was, she had her ways of training me from the looks of it. "I think I'll have to really call it a day here. Keep up the good work, Elle. I mean it when I say you did great. See you at our next training session"

"Well ... it's nothing really. I mean, I still have a lot to learn after all." I let out a nervous laugh as I picked up Favonius, who was still sleeping by the bench. A bummer that he missed whatever happened here but oh well, I can always tell him when he wakes up. 

"Thanks for today, Lucia … Mai. I guess I have something to work on." I smiled back and gave them a wave goodbye.

"It's part of the job after all. Come on Mai … guess we also gotta keep going. See you next time, Elle." Lucia smiled before turning the other way with Mai hovering behind her. Mai gave me a wink before they both flew off. 

[ Mod's Note: Woooo finally done with this after a while! Might be a bit rusty with my writing skills but hey hope you can get a good read out of this!]

[bozawarriorsposting]

The Damned Four: Introduction

Here is the AO3 link if you prefer that

This is essentially and introductory "fic" for the AU: Mudclaw and three other cats find themselves in a strange place after they are deemed unworthy of their place in Starclan.

Mudclaw hit the ground with a heavy thud. Dull pain radiates through his side as he begins to get up.

The former Windclan deputy hisses in irritation as he shook the paw he landed on. It's not like he had any bones to break, and the pain as far as he could tell was only for a sense of mortality more than any indicator of damage. He had been pacing around in Starclan, when suddenly the ‘ground’ beneath his feet had disappeared and he fell here. Given how immaterial everything was in Starclan, he can't say he is too surprised.

As he picks himself up, the surroundings immediately steal his attention. He barely even registers the sound of three more cats falling down besides him.

It was a flat stretching field of grass which seemed to go on as far as the eye could see. Now, Mudclaw was a Windclan cat, he was used to open spaces and having the sky all around him, but this was different.

There were no deviations in the terrain. No brush, trees, or rocks. Just completely flat grass that stretched on for eternity. Nothing that could hide you from the sky above.

Because of how barren the landscape was, the vast pale blue emptiness seemingly wrapped all around him no matter where his eyes turned. The sky encompassed almost his entire vision at any one time, and looking at it made him feel disorientated. There was no sun, no other colors above, just a few small clouds there just emphasized how truly immeasurable it all was. Mudclaw felt his fur rise as for the first time in his life spent among the open moor, he felt truly exposed.

Cold crept through his pelt, he coughed when he took in the frigid air into the lungs he shouldn’t have. There was no wind or breeze, in fact there was no movement just about anywhere in this place. Just a static stale coldness that permeated the endless field. Same with the air itself, there was no smell to anything. He couldn't detect the scents of any animal, plant, cat, or even the grass he was standing on.

 A relief comes through Mudclaw when he hears a sharp hiss of hostility and turns back to the group of cats that have fallen in here with him. Something to take his mind off whatever this is.

Two of the other cats seemed to have gotten into a conflict, both of them stood crouched against each other, staring down and preparing to strike. 

On one side was a lanky, gray, molly. Her fur looks disheveled and ungroomed, a long whip-like tail swaying from side to side. She looked young, a brand new warrior by Mudclaw’s estimate. 

The other was a slightly more bulky, but less lengthy, ashen gray tom. His build was that of a typical Thunderclan warrior. Darker spots covered his pelt and he was sporting deep blue eyes. He looked vaguely familiar in the way a cat you had seen in life does. Perhaps Mudclaw had seen him at a gathering at some point.

The third cat was a glossy pale brown tom, his shape looked vaguely of riverclan, and he had that vague sense of smugness they all tended to exude, though it was dampened by his awkward expression. Unlike the other three cats around him, the tom didn’t seem to acknowledge them at all, merely looking around in confusion.

Given the strange and unpredictable situation, Mudclaw’s training kicked in. He needs to identify his surroundings, figure out who these cats are, and what the situation is. It was comforting in a way, to not know what was going on, it felt like he was back in Windclan.

“Hey you two!” he shouted at the cats at a standoff. Both of them immediately jump back when they hear him. While keeping an eye on both cats for any signs of attack, he approaches and begins to address them both.

 “Do you know where we are?” He says with practiced authority in his voice, only to get blank stares in return. He assumes from that, that they know about as much as he does, so he might as well figure out who they were.

“My name is Mudclaw, Deputy of Windclan.” He states the title as he had thousands of times before to cats from all clans, the tone of authority coming to him naturally as a reflex. He hopes that he doesn't have to clarify ‘former’ given where they were.

“You were the cat that tried to overthrow Onestar, right?” She says curiously, as if she was pulling from a half remembered history lesson.

“Mudclaw…” The speckled gray tom murmured, “You are that cat that Hawkfr-” The she-cat quickly interrupts him.

Mudclaw flattens his fur as soon as it begins to bristle and suppresses any expressions. He is a Windclan Warrior, he does not let a rather brisk summary of his tenureship as deputy and entire life get to him.

“Yes, I am.” He simply answers back.

“They let you into Starclan?” Mild disbelief in her voice.

She springs backwards in surprise as Mudclaw lets out an angry hiss and takes a threatening step forwards, amber eyes glaring at her.

 “Yes, they did.” He spat out, the words thick with anger, and the warning evident.

She hisses back and stood in a fighting stance, but remained quiet with no further remarks.

Mudclaw takes a moment to glower at her and continues in a normal tone, addressing the two cats.

“So, who are you then?”

“Ashfur, Warrior of Thunderclan!” The ashen cat declared with enough pride in his voice to make you think it was some sort of accomplishment.

“Needletail.” She says with a flat tone after a couple moments, not mentioning Clan or position.

Their eyes turned to the last member of the group, the Riverclan cat. He continues to ignore them as he looks around their surroundings in increasing desperation and anxiety.

“Hey, who are-” Mudclaw begins, before the pale brown cat’s eyes suddenly snapped towards him, and then went wide with horror. Mudclaw pauses in confusion, before realizing that the tom's gaze wasn’t directed at him, rather right behind him.

The Windclan deputy turns his head over to where the Riverclanner is staring, and after a moment sees it.

There stood a fifth cat, a light slate colored tom, strongly built with a powerful form, no discernible markings or signs of any Clan. With eyes the same pale sickening color as the sky above. He watched them with a pronounced smirk across his face. He matched so well into the background of the environment he looked like a part of it. Static, cold, and vast in the same way as the sky.

Instantly, Mudclaw knew this was the cat responsible for whatever this was. Ignoring the sudden feeling of dread in his stomach, the brown Warrior began to make strides towards the strange cat, legs prepared to kick off into a lunge.

“You, what have you do-” his words are cut off as Mudclaw’s entire world begins to spin, air ripped from his throat as he hits the ground. Everything is a blur as he shakily gets back on his paws. Ashfur gaps at him in confusion, while Needletail gives him an unimpressed look. 

“Consider that a warning.” The pale stranger tells the brown tabby with a sneer. He then addresses all the cats with a booming voice clearly used to wielding authority.

“I am Skystar, One of the Five Founders, Bravest of the Mountain Tribe, Brightest Star, First Ancestor, Overseer Of the Great Above.” He pauses after each title, clearly enjoying going through them. “But you can call me Clear Sky.”

“And you Four are now under my supervision and command.” He casually adds as an afterthought.

As Mudclaw reels from the litany of titles, the speckled gray Thunderclanner quickly interjects. 

“Hey, We are Starclan cats! We are owed respect, no matter who you say you are!” The ashen cat yowls in an indignant, if slightly desperate, tone.

“About that…” Clear Sky replies with a slight chuckle, as if he was remembering a joke.

“After some deliberation among Starclan, it was decided that although you were all originally permitted to rest amongst us, your actions in life and continued failures here are too heavy to ignore. Essentially, you have retroactively been deemed unworthy of Starclan.”

Unworthy of Starclan

The words hit him like a falling tree, and left him reeling more than any fall previously had. It all got very quiet as he felt his stomach lurch and his mind filled with a cascade of emotions that he could, and didn’t bother, sorting into categories.

Unworthy

It echoed in his head over and over again.

“What.. you… Starclan can’t… do that.” Ashfur began to stutter out, shock and panic in his eyes.

Clear Sky’s smirk grew a little wider.

“Can’t we?” humor evident in the cat's voice.

His face suddenly fell into a scowl.

“You are no longer Starclan cats, you are not honored dead, you are not Ancestors.” All the smugness and light heartedness in Clear Sky’s voice instantly evaporated, leaving only authority and cold threat.

“You made every blunder, every mistake, every insult to the clans and the code in life by choice, and then when, against all odds, you were granted a place among us, you failed to even hold yourself to those standards. So now, you are destined for the place you were all supposed to have gone to.”

Mudclaw became dimly aware of the Riverclan tom flinching at every word, and beginning to cower at the last part of Clear Sky’s declaration.

“However, Starclan is not without mercy, and given the circumstances, we will grant you four a chance to prove yourselves.” He looks back at them expectantly

Ashfur stood frozen in place, trying to form words but clearly failing, only managing  a couple vowels as he tried to articulate whatever outrage or pain he was feeling. Needletail stood bristling and crouched as if ready to attack,but the anxiety showed in her eyes as she tried to mask it with defiance. The Riverclan cat lay completely on the grass shaking, despair written across his face, looking almost like he was going to try to run and escape somewhere.

Mudclaw was numb. An entire life spent following their code and tenets, being the warrior he was taught from the very start he should be, all to become leader. He fought battles, he sacrificed, he bore scars, he did everything he was told a warrior should do. After all that, at the very last second, the rightful leadership that he had spent a lifetime on was stolen from him. Now, after they murder him, they rip away even the implied honor of being in Starclan. 

He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw himself at Clear Sky and try to rip his throat out for all the good it would do him. He wanted his life back. He wanted everything he should have had back. 

“What does Starclan wish of us.” Mudclaw states steadily and professionally, as a deputy of Windclan should.

A smile reappears on Clear Sky’s muzzle.

“I am glad you asked.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Welp, this is... I guess a "Chapter, I am not sure if I am going to add a chapter directly coming from this point in the story, but I hope this helps define what I had in mind for the AU and the general dynamics.

Please tell me what you think or any asks about any part of this AU in general.

THX for reading!!!!!

[bagerfluff]

A Very Pretty Boy

Older Takaishi Takeru x Male Reader

Prompt - Blushing

You laid your head on your desk.

Why did school start so early? You just wanted to sleep for a couple more hours but no, you had to learn math. You tilted your head to the side, staring at the empty desk next to you.

Even worse, it seemed like Takeru was skipping school, lucky.

You took your head off the desk and looked outside the window. Lots of kids were still outside, either loitering before class or playing soccer before school started.

Though you were very far from the grass field. You couldn't see Daisuke playing soccer, but you knew he was. You just stared out the window, nothing better to do. You didn’t know anyone in the class, only Takeru.

Though you did like to eavesdrop. But you didn’t really feel like doing anything, was it so bad that you wanted to see your boyfriend? You started to zone out, thinking about sleep and what’s for lunch when you felt something touch your shoulder.

You flinched and turned your head to see Takeru sitting next to you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you”, Takeru said with a smile. You smiled back and were about to say something when something caught your eye.

Takeru was pretty, like really pretty.

Well he's always pretty, but today he seemed more pretty. He was wearing a light blue long sleeve shirt and white shorts, you wonder why he wore shorts and a long sleeve shirt since it was spring.

Weird combination.

But the shirt went well with Takeru’s hair, which you could see because Takeru didn’t have his hat. You always liked when Takeru ditched his hat.

Plus, Takeru just seemed to be really happy, his little smile lit your heart. The light from the window made Takeru’s eyes shine. His blue eyes shone like diamonds and looked calm like a sea before a storm.

“You okay?” Takeru said while waving his hand in front of your face. You blinked, not realizing that you had zoned out. “Nothing, you just look really pretty today”, you said before looking away.

Takeru blushed and was about to say something when the professor started talking. You smiled, knowing Takeru probably looked even cuter when he was blushing.

Takeru stretched his legs.

Halfway done with school, time for gym. Basketball to be specific. “This time I'm going to beat you”, Daisuke said to Takeru. Takeru rolled his eyes, “just like you beat me the last five times”, Takeru said with sarcasm lacing his voice.

Daisuke rolled his eyes and walked away, already yelling at his teammates. Takeru just let out a laugh and continued stretching. “You going to win again”, Takeru looked up to see you standing next to him.

Takeru smiled, “don’t you have class”, Takeru crossed his arms over his chest. You smirked, “it can wait”, you said. You didn’t really care if you were late, you just wanted to see Takeru

He still looked pretty.

This time he was in his gym clothes. Just a white short sleeve shirt and shorts with red stripes. His hat was off, obviously. The other team had the pennys.

You also wanted to see Hikari, she was on the other side of the gym practicing. You glanced over to see Hikari talking with her friends but if you glanced up you would see Patamon, Gatomon, and Demiveemon arguing in the ceiling rods.

You shook your head at them, though you felt a little sad that you couldn’t see your Digimon. Maybe you should skip class and visit them in the computer lab.

Though Takeru hadn’t changed at all since you’ve seen him in the morning, you still thought he was pretty. Maybe you were more smitten with Takeru today then other days or maybe Takeru was more pretty today then other days.

“You’re going to be late”, Takeru said while leaning up. You smiled, “yeah”, you walked closer to Takeru and kissed him. “You look pretty”, you said before walking out of the gym.

Takeru blushed again.

That was the second time you’ve called Takeru pretty today. Why? Takeru didn’t have much time to think about it before the whistle blew.

Takeru looked away, time to beat Daisuke at basketball, again.

“Finally”, Daisuke said as he walked into the computer room.

“Finally you're here”, Miyako said with anger in her voice. Daisuke glared at he but said nothing. “So now we're only waiting for Takeru”, Hikari said. You nodded from where you were sitting.

You were sitting because you didn’t feel like standing. Wasn’t like there weren't enough chairs. Your Digimon was sitting in your lap while you petted them.

They were asleep and you wanted to follow their lead but you had to stay awake. “How long is Takeru going to be?” Daisuke whined while Miyako glared at him. “Calm down, I’m sure Takeru had a reason for being late”, Lori said.

Both Daisuke and Demiveemon glared at the door right as Takeru entered. “Finally, now come on, we have control spires to destroy”, Daisuke yelled.

You stood up and looked at Takeru.

He was sweaty from running and he had pulled up the sleeves on his shirt. You knew that was a bad choice. Takeru had his hat back on, though you preferred Takeru without his hat, he still looked good in it.

It was Takeru’s classic white bucket hat, you knew Takeru had more though. He also had about six other white bucket hats.

You smiled, still pretty.

You wondered what was so different today but you kinda didn’t care. You walked over to Takeru, “Finally, I was starting to worry”, you said. “Sorry, I just had to do something”, Takeru said.

You leaned closer to Takeru’s ear. “You’re still pretty today”, you whispered into his ear, making Takeru even redder. Takeru was about to ask you something when Daisuke yelled about destroying something and how we were late.

Takeru sighed, guess he was going to ask you later.

You sighed as you walked.

“I thought it was never going to end”, you said and Takeru could agree with you on that. It seemed like everyone was going to be destroying control spires all day.

But it finally stopped so you and Takeru were walking home since you both lived in the same apartment building, in fact you lived right next to each other.

Lori and Miyako were behind you both, talking about something or other. But Takeru wasn’t really listening to them or you. He was thinking about what you said, you kept calling him pretty.

You have three times today, not that Takeru didn’t like it. Takeru felt butterflies swarm in his stomach and his heart beat faster when you called him pretty.

But why did you?

“Hey Y/n?” You looked over at Takeru, “yeah?” Takeru gripped Patamon a bit tighter. “Why did you keep calling me pretty today?” Takeru asked.

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know, you're just really pretty, pretty boy”, you said the pet name with a teasing tone making Takeru blush and look away. You smiled and wrapped your arm around Takeru’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

Your Digimon jumped from your arms and into your open back pack. “Plus”, you leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “I like how you react when I call you pretty”.

Takeru blushed, just the reaction you liked. 

[hirik0]

Ghosts

Coping

Hesh still rembers the day their mother died how for some time everything lost its appeal, everything had a vail of grey, but it passed, they got closure at the funeral. They had each other. This, but this what he is feeling now is so much worse. When somebody dies you atleast can say goodbye, can return to the grave if you miss them. Logan being gone don't give him this, there is only uncertainty, there will never be closure, it will hurt forever. He is still on medical leave for his leg but he dont think he would be of use in the field if he was not injured. The rest of the team is gone trying to get a lead on Rorke, while he lays in bed staring at the ceiling for 5 days now. Pathetic, he is so pathetic he should search for Logan, he should train, he should do something, but he cant. Yesterday was the first day he left his room with out being bribed with food or taking Riley for a walk. He still haven talked to his father he is undecided if its for the better or the worse that Elias didn't try to talk to him again. He would probably just scream again, so it's for the better, his thoughts about the situation are spiralling out of control. Riley is the only living thing that can stand him right now, resting his head on his chest, but everytime they walk past Logans door the dog is sitting down, barking waiting for the door to open. The door will never open again tears start running down his face at this though. He knows he need to pull himself together that he is expected to join the next big mission, that his pitty party have to end soon, but he dont know if he can. For the very first time in his life he dont think he can keep going, he's exhausted despite him doing nothing but sleeping, he crys with out reason, everything is pointless. He wants to give up, but he is to afraid to really think what giving up means in this context, he trys to find a reason to keep going but all of them are pointless, dont feel like they are worth the effort, finding Logan feels impossible to achieve. The weight if his feelings is crushing him, he feels so much that he dont feels anything at all anymore. The days start to become one big blob, he knows this is dangerous but he dont care to stop it, he will try tomorrow. Ignoring he says that for 3 days already. Today is the first day he lets the sun in the room again, not being able to take the constant darkness any longer, the darkness in his thoughts cant get chased away by the sun, but they look smaller now, not like gigantic shadow monsters. It looks like a really nice day out site, fluffy white clouds on clear blue sky. A sting goes through his heart, remembering how Mum, Logan and him would sometimes lay in the grass looking at clouds, describing what the shapes remind them of. Life was so easy back then. "What do you think Riley can we be sad outside these 4 walls?", he asks the dog his voice empty, does he really want to go out? Riley lifts his head looking at him before jumping from the bed walking to the door. He also slowly get up from the bed, it is coasting him way to much energy do to this simple think, but now did before. He opens the door, autopiloting to the outsite, Riley next to him. Maybe he can get some things from Logans room to put in his room he dont have to choose now. It will not run away.

The sun feels strange, like its warmth can't wash a way the cold numbness he is feeling, like it is lost part of its brightness, he can't believe there was a time he enjoyed being in the sun. That was inly 6 days ago, but it feels so much longer ago. They walk aimlessly over the base Hesh not really knowing what he is looking for till he finds a space to just sit down, before he starts to cry again. He's done with crying, he dont want to cry anymore, crying is annoying. He didn't even know you can cry that frequently, for days with our a end in sight. "God damit", he curses he didn't mean it this literally when he said being sad out site these 4 walls. He lays down, looking at the sky and automatic starts to see shapes in the clouds, one that reminds him of a tree passing over him. His crying gets worse, but somehow a warm feeling is spreading through him for the first time in 5 days. Doing this child activity is comforting in a bittersweet way.

Riley is the first one to notice them being approached. Getting on his legs while Hesh absently looks at clouds not registering anything around him, lost deep inside his head. It coukd have started to raun and he would not have noticed it. He dont even know how long they are here already, but the sun is slowly sinking, colouring the sky in orange and red. Somebody is kicking his feet and for the first time since he sat down Hesh is really taking in his surroundings. "You are a easy target if you zone out like this", Kick says to him, with means the team is back. "I'm not in the field", Hesh states the facts sitting up, looking at Kick with puffy and red eyes from crying. "C'mon we are looking for you for 40 minutes." Kick is soundung reliefed that he found Hesh and is holding out a hand to help him up. "Gues my stealth skills improved." It is meant as a joke but it totally misses the mark, seems to annoy Kick who is kicking him again. He takes Kicks hand and gets up, grass stucked on his cloths. "We have information you might want to hear", Kick says getting a sad smile from Hesh before he nods getting as much grass of him as possibel before exploring the older Ghost. The way back feels endless, every step is harder then the last one, but he has to do this right, its part of recovering to start participating in life again. These informations could be about Logan even just a tiny nugget could help him figure out away to get his brother back. Hesh atleast trys to convince himself, a part of his mind clearly telling him that its pointless, that he will likely never find Logan again. He pushes the voice, soundung suspiciously like Rorke, away he listened to this voice for 5 days and its not helping him at all, it makes everything worse. They enter the briefing room and Hesh chosses a chair as far away from his father as possible next to Kegan, Riley laying down next to him. He feels 2 pairs of worried eyes on him his father and Merrick, he hates this. The two oldest Ghost are giving him worried parents vibes, is he going to a hard time, surr but this? This makes him feel weak and useless like a child that needs to be protected. Kegan is punshing him against the shoulder. "Good to see you." Hesh nods as a acknowledgement before Merrick is starting the briefing the eyes of his father never leaving him.

He stopes listening to Merrick when he announced their next target somebody that can give them information on how to find Rorke. Finding Rorke means getting info on Logan, it's the tiniest nugget of hope but Hesh will be damend if he is not guarding it like a dragon its treasure. This it what he needs to keep going, even if its just till after the next mission, its a goal it feels achievable and from there more tiny steps to reach the big goal. The other Ghost are leaving the room everyone besides him, Riley and Elias. Merrick hesitates at the door but Elias is signaling him to leav, but Merrick stays at the other side of the door in case Hesh is exploding again. Elias is slowly aproaching his oldest like a feral animal that is corner led ready yo leavh out, there is no guarantee that this talk will end better then the last one. He carefully sits down on the chair Kegan sat minutes ago, carefully resting on of his hands on Heshs leg. He sees how his son is pulled back in to the room. "Hesh", Elias starts hesitant he referred this with Merrick for two days but he still don't fell ready. Hesh looks around confused clearly trying to catch up what happend. "How your doing?" God its a dumb question its clear as day that Hesh is doing terrible. "I.. sometimes I think for hours what I could have done differently", Hesh admits sounding tired. "There is nothing you could have done differently. Not with Rorke planning to get one of you", Elias trys to reasure his son. "When... when you lost Rorke did you think what you could have done different?", Hesh asks looking for the first time at his father. "For weeks and.. there is nothing I could have done different, there was now way for me to save Rorke. The only thing that would have changed things would have been us retreating when the city got flooded, but Rorke he was obsessed with killing General Almargo and it let to his downfall", Elias explains watching his son warry for any sign if aggression flaring up. "We could have done things diffrent, we run like headless chicken", Hesh states but stops when his father is shaking his head. "Hesh, he would have gotten Logan one way or another", Elias trys to reasure Hesh his heartbreaking when tears are gathering in Hesh's eyes again. "I.. I just let him take Logan", Hesh sobs for the first time talking about what happened. "Hesh, you didn't let.him just take Logan, you two ran quite the distance ti get away, you nearly drowned and he shot you in the leg and he would have killed you if he had to. You survived and we know he has Logan because of that otherwise we had to asume Logan drowned. You did everything you could in the situation", Elias says having to hold back his own tears he needs to be strong for Hesh just a littel bit longer. "But.. but it was not enough", Hesh wispers voice breaking feeling Rileys paws on his other leg. "Hesh, it was enough.", Elias reasures him giving Riley space to comfort one if his owners. Hesh is doing a strange mix ov nodding and shaking his head at the same time his body trembling with every sob. They sit there in silence Merrick checking in on them twice while Elias waits for Hesh to calm down so he can ask him one important question.

When Hesh sobs are turned down to sniffing and he looks at his father again Elias knows his son is ready. "Get ready for Caracas, Hesh we need to get information from Rorke", Elias tells him getting a serious look from his son that is a bit undermind by the wet face, puffy and red eyes and but he can see that his son is ready to keep going and this is all that matters for now. He can hopefully pull Hesh along from mission to mission and keep the remains of their family together.

[dp-marvel94]

Face to Face- Chapter 54

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First -> Last -> Next

Word Count: 7,517

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: Finally! The much awaited (for me at least XD) concert chapter! This is probably the most self indulgent thing I have ever written. 😅😳

Seriously though, I put so much time and thought into this love letter to my two favorite things: Danny Phantom and Christian rock. 😂 I hope ya'll enjoy it just a fraction of the amount I did writing it.

(And on a serious note. A warning for some minor religious references and discussion here- the name of Jesus in a reverent context, a character asks another if they would like to be prayed for. I wrote a very long post on Tumblr going to more detail on some of these and my reasons for including them. See the link in the end note.)

Excitement grew, buzzing in Danny’s chest as everyone piled into the GEV. Even Jazz.

The boy raised a brow at his sister. “I figured you’d wanna stay home and read about the psychology of troubled teens or something.”

The red-head rolled her eyes at the comment. She shook her head. “Spike is going. He’s really into the metal scene and I thought going myself might be informative.”

Dad glanced back. “Is that your boyfriend, Jazzirencess?”

Jazz blushed. “We’re just friends, Dad.”

The parents exchanged looks, saying nothing else on the topic. Instead the conversation shifted, back towards the subject of the concert.

“Danny, sweetie. Who are we seeing again?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than ten minutes later, the group arrived at the park. Dad pulled into a parking spot and turned the vehicle off. The teens were out almost before the van even stopped and practically run across the grass.

There was the stage, set up the field where Sam, Tucker, and his two halves had played frisbee golf on Thursday. Danny stopped a dozen feet away, just staring for a long moment. Not even four days ago he’d fought a dragon here. Signs of the struggle still mard the area: patches of dead grass, a few fallen trees, and –Danny winced at the sight– the destroyed bathrooms, bared off the caution tape. A row of Port-a-Potties has been set up in their stead.

The sound of a guitar broke through Danny’s thoughts. “Feels like I'm stuck. Going nowhere fast.” An older teenage girl was singing while playing. “My life is on the line. I'm running out of time.” The instrument suddenly cut off. Then her voice pitched down, speaking normally. “I’m gonna need more guitar in my ears.” A few more strums. “Perfect.” She glanced over at another teen, holding a bass. “Maggie?”

Beside Danny, Tucker leaned in, right next to his ear. “They’re sound checking!” The half ghost could practically hear the stars in his friend’s eyes. 

“We’re listening to GFM sound check!” Danny felt just as giddy.

More strumming instruments, banging on the drums, growling and yelling into the mic. “Mic check! One, two, three! Can you hear me?!” 

“Yeah!” Woah!” The few people already gathering in front of the stage yelled an affirmative.

“Sounds good, CJ.” The bassist backed up from the mic, leaving her instrument on a stand. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Pizza!” There was a cheer from the drum set.

The other two band members, all sisters if Danny remembered, left the stage, now empty of people. 

Sam tugged on her friends’ arms. “Let’s scope out merch.”

The three hurried over to the merch tables, the group clustered under a tent. First GFM’s merch table, all black and pink and green. Shirts and tank tops. A jersey and hoodie. Wristbands and stickers. Pins. Even a skateboard- with cupcakes and a cheerleader in a black and pink cheer outfit with fishnets.

“I want one of everything.” The goth gushed. 

Next Relent’s table- black cloth covered the table, displaying fewer options but no less enticing.

Danny eyed one particular shirt. 

Tucker pointed. “Dude, check it.” The shirt showed a typical, if spooky, bed-sheet ghost, the scene complete with the band name, fire, lightning, and little bats.

“I’m so tempted.” The half ghost grinned.

Then Protest’s. A huge banner with the band’s logo hung on a frame, shirts displayed around it. In front of that was a table with posters, cds, stickers, and other offerings. A man with long brown hair and an upper arm tattoo was hanging up one last jacket.

“That’s a sick zip-up.” Tucker commented.

The man turned around…. He looked vaguely familiar. “Thanks man. My bro designed it.” He pointed to another man, a few tables down who was talking to some other people. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m-” He held out his hand to Tucker, only to be interrupted.

“Joshua Bramlett!” 

The four turned, only to see-

“Grandma?!” Sam’s eyes crinkled in disbelief of the old woman zooming across the path in her electric wheelchair.

The man’s (presumably Joshua) eyes lit up behind his glasses. “Miss Ida!” He stepped around the group, bending over to hug the woman as her chair stopped. “How have you been?!”

The trio of teens stared, confused. “What is happening right now?” Danny asked.

Meanwhile, the bearded man and Sam’s grandma chatted. “These old joints are acting up. But I wasn’t going to miss seeing you boys for the world.” She patted his hand. “You have to meet my granddaughter.”

Grandma Ida wheeled forward, the man walking back to the trio with her. “This is Sam.” The old woman introduced.

“I’m Josh.” The man offered his hand with a smile.

“Sam.” The goth nodded, accepting the gesture.

“Tucker.”

“Danny.”

Two more hand shakes were given. 

Josh then lowered his hands, putting them in his pockets. “Have you ever seen us before?”

“Us?” Danny raised a brow and the man motioned to the banner. “Oh.” The boy blushed. “You're in the band.” That really should have been obvious; hadn’t he seen him on the flier for this very show?

Josh chuckled, giving a shrug. “I sing for The Protest.” The words were so casual, “Are you excited for the show?” and the question eager and genuinely interested.

The half ghost instinctively felt himself relaxing. “Yeah! We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”

“Me and the boys will be sure to put on a good one for you.” He chuckled, before pointing back at the stage. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more set up to do. I’d love to talk to you guys more after.”

Sure enough, Josh turned and walked away. The three teens stopped, watching for a long moment.

“He seems nice.” Tucker commented.

“That young man’s one of the sweetest, most genuine people you’ll ever meet.” Grandma Ida nodded, eyes twinkling with her smile. 

“Who you’ve apparently met before?” Sam frowned down, hands on her hips. “You know the Protest’s lead singer. How come you haven’t taken me to see them before?”

The old woman just shrugged, a mischievous look flickering across her face. Then her eyes lit up, gaze flickering to something near the stage. “Is that Marco Pera I see?!” She called out. “Don’t you run off now! Come talk to Grandma Ida.” The old woman wheeled off, leaving the three teens behind.

The goth lowered her hands to her sides, mouth open. “Unbelievable.”

Danny tugged her arm, diverting her attention. “Come on. There’s another table.”

Sam turned back. Her brow furrowed. “I thought there were only three bands playing.”

Tucker shrugged, leading his friends to the table. Sure enough, there was more merch displayed. 

“They have everything.” Danny’s eyes widened. Bags, CDs, posters, stickers, and pins were typical fare. But there were shirts in just about every color, not just black or gray. Keychains and coasters. Wristbands too. Even jewelry, bracelets that looked like they were made of leather.

“You should get that one, Sam.” Tucker pointed teasingly at a pink leather bracelet with the band’s name.

The goth rolled her eyes, giving the technogeek a punch on the arm. 

“Hey!” Tucker protested. 

Sam ignored him, instead reading the writing on the banner behind the table. “Chaotic Resemblance. Who are these guys anyway? They’re not on the flier.”

“We got added last minute.” A blond man, late twenties with a lip ring, looked up from his phone, putting the device in his pocket. “We’re good friends with the guys in the Protest and playin’ a few hours away tomorrow.” The man shrugged. He had an odd accent Danny couldn’t quite place. “Figured we could swing by.”

“Cool.” Danny said with a slight smile. He had no idea who this band was but the prospect of hearing cool, new music was always exciting.

Briefly, names were exchanged; the man’s name was Travis, yet another lead singer. He asked the trio if they’d heard of any of the other bands playing today and who they were excited to see.

“GFM.” Sam’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve been following their vlog for like a year now. The music kicks ass. And their music videos! I love the one for SMILE.” She stopped, blushing in seeming embarrassment from the rant. “So, yeah. I’m excited.”

Travis laughed, expression open and kind, before asking Tucker and Danny the same question. The technogeek mentioned reading a review of The Protest’s new ep on a music website he liked and listening to the songs a bunch. And Danny…

“Relent’s super cool. Sam introduced them to me, since they’re on that same label GFM used to be on.” He blushed, cheeks scrunching up with his smile. “I’ve listened to the new cd like a hundred times. Especially Ghost and Heavy.” Just a hint of sadness brushed his mind at the thought of that second one. “I… really like those songs.”

“You’ve gotta learn the words, right.” Tucker elbowed him playfully. 

The halfa just felt more embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well uh…”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Travis leaned forward, a conspiratory twinkle in his eye. “Let me tell you a secret. We love it when fans know the words.”

“Really?” Danny asked hesitantly.

“Yep.” The man nodded. “So you better sing really loud for those guys.” The half ghost nodded eagerly. Then, suddenly strumming sounded from the stage. Travis’ head jerked in the direction. “Oh, we’re sound checking. I have to go. It was great talking to you.”

Again, the trio watched him go. And Danny’s shoulder untensed. He felt better, embarrassment and lingering sadness gone. He knew all the words to Heavy because, well… he’d listened… and cried through the song many times. It’s not like anyone could blame him, right? The last two months had been the hardest of his life. But he’d gotten through it. He’d learned and he’d grown. And that song had been a tiny part of that.

Shaking the thought away, the trio of friends returned to their spot near the front. On the way they passed Danny’s mom and dad, both seated in their camping chairs with what looked like a few other parents. Jazz and a teen with black spiky hair and a nose ring stood on the other side of the stage, a little ways back.

The trio stood in front of the stage, excitement building as the band checked their sound. Minutes later, the musicians walked off, leaving the stage bare and ready. Music crackled to life on the speakers. Pre Recorded but familiar, fast paced and energetic, from bands Danny recognized. Anticipation grew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shadows were lengthening now, the golden light of late afternoon bathing the scene. The wind blew gently, not too hot or too cold. And the crowd gathered, people packing closer together near the stage. The half ghost’s heart fluttered with excitement. The show must be starting soon…

A cheer rang out around him. The boy looked up.

“Who’s ready to rock?!” It was an older man, maybe ten years older than his dad, bald but with a big, wispy beard and tattoos in a biker jacket. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” He chuckled. “I’m Dave. I’ve been volunteering with Guardians of the Children for ten years now. We’re so excited to have all of you guys here today. ‘Specially these awesome bands on the Gotta Rock ‘em all Tour.” 

Another cheer rose up and Dave clapped. “Yeah! Give it up for these dudes.”

“Woo!!” Danny yelled, voice joining his friends.

More clapping and cheering… slowly the sound died down.

The older man pointed. “Later, one of my buddies is goin’ to tell you all about what we Guardians do. But now… are you ready to have your faces melted!?”

“Yeah!” “Woo!” “Yeah!” The half ghost caught a glimpse of Sam, her fists already in the sky. Tucker, mouth open to yell.

“Our first band wasn’t originally planned to be here. They’re on their own tour now but makin’ a special trip to see us. I love these guys. If you’re in my generation, you’re in for a treat.” Dave’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “Give it up for… Chaotic Resemblance!”

To cheers, the band sauntered onto stage, one by one. The drums pounded, cymbals clashing. Then the bass, an easy strum. The guitar, with a flourish and…

“How are we doing, Amity Park?!” Travis ran onto stage, now in a jean vest with studs and hair unbound.

The first song started, unfamiliar words fast. The guitars slung notes, fast and driving. The singer’s voice rose, high and resonating, with a twang. 

Danny bobbed his head, a smile growing as he listened. The sound tickled his ears. This was cool! Not his typical style for sure. Maybe it was closer to something he’d heard his parents listening to…? 

A hint of a bridge. The guitar solo. On stage, hair flew. The song swept up. 

Around the half ghost, the crowd was swept up with it. Danny’s heart beat faster, hair flopping on his forehead with his movement.

The chorus, on final time…. 

“It's time we break!” Travis half-sung, half-yelled.  “The identity crisis toda-ay!” The note held out, long high and reverberating. Instruments clashed, one finally flurry of head-banging. 

With a final shout, the sound died…. And the crowd cheered.

“Yeah!!” The halfa clapped, the motion big and exuberant.

One voice rose above the rest. “Woah! Radical, dudes!”

Danny looked back, cheeks bright red. That was his dad, hands up and grinning like a mad man.

On stage, Travis chuckled, pointing. “Thank you, sir.”

The half ghost face palmed….

The show rolled on, embarrassment long forgotten. 

“We’ve got one last song!” The singer started. “Thanks for having us.” A cheer from the crowd. The guitars started shredding. “We love you guys. God bless.” A final yell. “Let’s start a riot!”

Travis pumped the air with a fist. “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

Soon the crowd was copying….

Jumping. Hair slinging. Figuring out what to do during the song was natural, the crowd moving as one. 

“This is the Riot Anthem!” 

“Riot! Riot!” The boy’s heart pumped, grinning.

“Our final call to action!”

“Riot! Riot!” He shouted, fist punching the sky…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The set ended but the show went on, Relent playing next, just as the sun was starting to set.

“What you're about to see is not for free. No, I ain't got time for apologies!” Danny spat the words to the much loved song. “I'm a south boy killa. No scope headshot winner.” Screaming. “I can feel something staring at me!”

Bouncing, the half ghost’s spirit soared.

But the next song was Heavy. “I wrote this song based on my wife’s story. She’s been through so much. So many horrible, painful things. But she’s come out victorious.” The singer’s eyes flicking over the crowd. “So I hope her story helps people. I hope it helps you remember you’re not alone. And it helps you find the strength to break the silence and talk about the things that aren’t talked about enough.”

The drums pounded, slow and steady. The emotional words rang out. “I cannot take the pressure. This feels like forever…”

Danny sang along, vision threatening to blur…. 

The singer fisted the mic, eyes closed. “Look what you did to my soul. Look at the size of the hole.” He lamented. Tears collected in the corners of the half ghost’s eyes.  “Why do I, why do I, why do I feel so heavy?”

The song trickled to a stop and Danny’s heart squeezed. He whipped the tears away….

One final Relent song. The music pounded. Danny jumped and head-banged, excitement returning. His head swung at the bridge, the best part of the song. He sung. “Time’s up! What! What! What! Welcome to the-”

A puff of cold air. Danny stumbled to a stop, looking side to side. His eyes caught on… he blinked. A young man with sandy blond hair, a leather jacket. Was that… the motorcycle ghost he saw in the Zone?

Nervous curiosity squirmed in Danny’s gut as the set ended with a bang. The instruments pounded as the people cheered. With waves, the band left the stage.

The half ghost glanced back, his eyes meeting the other ghost’s. The biker raised an eyebrow. Danny turned back to the front, biting his lip. He should probably go talk to the guy. There was a little time before GFM started.

He tapped on Sam’s shoulder who turned as he leaned closer. “Save my spot. Be back soon.” The goth’s brow furrowed for just a second. Then Danny muttered. “Ghost.” He vaguely motioned with his head.

With no more discussion, he ran off, weaving through the crowd. Sure enough… there was the biker ghost. Johnny? That was what the green haired woman he’d been with before had called him, right? Quickly, Danny approached, half a dozen questions buzzing in his head. But what came out of his mouth…

“You should put that thing out.” His eyes narrowed at the death stick in Johnny’s hand. “Don’t you know cigarettes can kill you?”

The older ghost burst out laughing. “Shit, kid.” He dropped the cigarette, the object disappearing into mist as it fell. “How can you even see me?”

“You’re standing right in front of me.” The halfa raised a brow, arms crossed.

“I’m invisible.” He rolled his eyes like it was obvious. “You a medium or something?”

“A medium? What-” 

“Shit, I’ve seen you before.” The biker interrupted, snapping his finger. “You look like that twelve year old who was looking for his Mama.”

“I’m fourteen!” Danny bared his teeth. A cold feeling flickered in his eyes, green light swirling in them. 

“Holy….” The other ghost’s eyes widened. “I thought you were the live twin to your dead bro. But… holy f-king hell….” He pointed. “You’re a halfa.”

Said halfa dropped his arms. “What… How?… I just flashed my eyes and knew it like that?”

“I felt it, now that I’m actually lookin’ at ya…” Somehow, Johnny’s eyes widened more. “How come I didn’t feel it before?”

Danny blushed. “That’s complicated…” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?” The question was curious, just a hint of suspicion. 

“Watching a show.” He motioned to the stage, matter-of-fact. “Me and Kitten stumbled on a natural portal. Thought we’d have a bit of fun.” He leaned forward, voice lowering. “She’s good about knowing how long one’s gonna be open. Said we’ve got ‘til midnight.”

Danny’s brow furrowed. So that was apparently a thing…? But he didn’t ask. Instead he looked side-to-side…. “Where is she?”

“Snooping around backstage.” The other ghost grinned, mischievously, a hint of sharp teeth flashing.

New suspiciousness flashed in his eyes. A desire flickered- to get the thermos and catch the two ghosts before anything happened. But…. the boy sighed. Johnny was just standing here, watching the show like any other concert goer. He sounded like he was enjoying the music. Maybe Danny could hope….

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can you at least try not to cause trouble?”

“Trouble?” The man laughed. “We won’t do nothing too bad.” He winked. “Besides, I’m digging these guys… and girls?” His eyes widened slightly, set on something behind. Probably GFM getting on stage. He shook his head, expression just a bit more genuine. “Believe me, the last thing I want is to stop the party.”

At that, Danny sighed. Behind him, cheers started. “Great. I’ll be near the front. Have fun.” He started turning to leave. “And really, don’t try anything. My parents are ghost hunters after all.” He pointed a thumb to the two Fentons adults, standing in front of their chairs. “You saw that big gun my Mom had in the Realms? She knows how to use it. And…” He flashed his eyes. “My folks aren’t the only ones’ armed.”

For a second, Johnny’s face paled, nervousness flickering across it. Then he smirked, summoning another cigarette with a flick of his fingers. “Alright, kid.” Burgeoning respect shone in those eyes. “See you ‘round.”

Danny ran back to the front, pushing through the crowd. In front of him, pink-colored smoke still shot up from the stage. He arrived at his spot just as Maggie ran on stage. 

“What is up Amity? I need you all to make some noise for me tonight!” Arms spread, head back, the teen brought the mic to her mouth and growled….

“Don’t tell me to! Don’t tell me to! SMILE.” A guttural yell. 

Hair flying. The crowd chanted around him. “S.M.I.L.E. Why don’t you smile for me?”

His feet pounded, his heart pounded, sweat running down his back. Beside him, Sam spat the words; he could almost hear her growling along. Tucker banged his head, glasses hanging on for dear life. Even so, his friends’ faces shone with gleeful happiness.

The second verse swung around, the chorus again. Danny’s mind filled up with the words, the rhythm. No room for anything more than the sheer exuberance.

The guitar and bass cut off, drums pounding the beat. “Okay, everyone settle down. Boys and girls, are you ready?” The guitarist, CJ, more chanted than sung.

The crowd clapped and yelled, hands in the air.

“LuLu, are you ready?” Pointing at the drummer. “I know I’m ready!” With a grin. “Maggie, are you ready?” Voice pitched up, a performatively raised brow. “Maggie?”

A pause. The audience held their breath, gripped with anticipation and...

“Go!” A growl from said teen. The breakdown hit.

And the crowd lost it. Jumping. Headbanging. Pushing and shoving. Moshing. The horde jolted. Someone ran past Danny. And…. they were circling?! The half ghost grinned manically. 

“Jack!”

His ears twitched at the cry. A look back, eyes widened. And… Danny just about felt his soul leave his body. His Dad… his dad was in the circle pit. A flash of worry. But the man was keeping up no problem, sure on his feet. 

Danny chuckled, turning back to the front as the last chorus started. His voice joined the rest. At least his dad was having fun….

“Anyone want cupcakes?!” Maggie yelled.

This was it, the last song! And there they were: clear plastic containers with neon-frosted confections. The famed cupcakes!

“Misery loves company, I bet you're fun at parties.” Cupcakes flew. “Chasing after all the things you think will make you happy.” Instinctively, Danny ducked. “You've been played so many times, you'd make the perfect barbie.” The sugary goodness rained down. “Pretend your life's a fairytale, the story's getting boring….”  The guitar sped up, fingers flying across the cords.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, heart pounding a mile a minute. He sang his lungs out. “I don’t need your fantasy!” 

Beside him, Sam’s eyes shone with passion, a balled fist to the sky. “'Cause I'm gonna say, gonna say what I wanna say…” 

A cupcake nailed her in the shoulder, pink icing smearing across her shirt and face. Danny laughed, pointing. The shocked look on her face!

“…my voice. You can't take it away!”

Something chocolate brown and blue flew at his face. The half ghost flailed to catch and… 

“You can’t!”

Blue icing coated his hands. He dropped the cupcake…

“You can’t! You can’t!”

Right into Tucker’s hands. The technogeek smirked, taking a huge bite. 

Danny lost it, bursting out laughing. Mind, body, heart, and soul wrapped up, caught up in the moment. Just him and the beat. The stickiness on his hands. His grinning, screaming, laughing friends. The press of the crowd around him. The words pouring out of his mouth. 

“This is my life, my voice. You can't take it away!”

His core sang, buzzing inside him. This. This right here. It was amazing, incredible, perfect. The feeling almost euphoric. 

This is awesome! The words were more yelled in his head than thought. An almost physical thing, like throwing the idea with his mind to-

“Misery loves company, I bet you're fun at parties.” Sam’s jump sent her careening into him. “Chasing after all the things you think will make you happy!” She’s never looked so happy to be wearing pink.

The breakdown. Tucker’s flailing arm jolted his side, icing smeared around the technogeek’s  mouth.

“Now, you’ll see… I don’t need your fantasy!” With bared teeth, head raised to the sky, Danny had never felt so alive….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The set ended with a bang, the clashing of instruments as people cheered. The three sisters left the stage. The previous soundtrack started again, so much quieter than the live music. The half ghost almost felt the crowd breath out, decompress as one of the Guardian of the Children volunteers came up to speak. The mass of people shifted, the space for moshing filling in as some snuck closer to the front and others left. Jazz and Spike drifted closer, standing right beside Danny and his friends.

Danny took a breath, whipping his sweaty forehead.

His sister laughed, giving him a knowing look.

The boy raised a brow. “I’ve got icing on my face now, don’t I?”

“Yep.” Jazz’s tone was full of teasing.

“You want some?” With a grin, the little brother swiped for her.

“Danny!” The older teen shrieked, jumping away.

“Come on! Let me give you a high five!” He reached again.

Jazz weaved, dodging. “No!”

“Come on!” Danny got her right in her face.

“Ew! It’s sticky!” The girl fished in her bag, pulling on a sleeve of wet wipes. Frustiously, she whipped at the blue frosting. “Here, you heathen.” She shoved the package at her brother.

The boy rolled his eyes but obliged, whipping his hands. It did feel nice to get the sticky feeling off them. 

A sudden screeching sound through the mic brought Danny’s attention back to the speaker. 

The older man speaking smiled sheepishly. “Got too close to the mic there. As I was saying…”

What was the man saying? Danny should probably pay attention…

The boy shuffled foot to foot, watching, listening. He was getting tired from standing here so long. And thirsty. He’d sung, and screamed, and sweated a lot. He glanced back, wanting to go get some water. But his coveted spot…

Another screech. Danny’s gaze jolted back, focus returned. The mic was giving the guy problems, huh? He watched the stage, the lights  slowly brightening in the growing darkness. It was well past sunset now. A flicker of movement below the stage caught Danny’s attention. Some thing darted by, dark and strangely formless. That was weird… 

A few more minutes and the volunteer finished speaking, leaving the stage. The soundtrack returned as the lights on the stage dimmed.

Danny’s insides fluttered, anticipation rising again. He was still tired, previous emotional high lessened. But the last band was about to come on soon! The headliner!

Beside him, Tucker shook with excitement. “Oh, man. This is gonna be awesome.”

Danny nodded. The lights shifted, spot lighting the drums. And…

“Make some noise, Amity!” Josh ran on stage, jumping. “I wanna see you on your feet!”

The music rumbled and the crowd obeyed. A roar from the background track. Josh fisted the mic and growled. “I caught you like the monster hiding under my bed. Now I’m gonna rip you right out of my head! Like a baseball to the side of the face, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.” Heads bobbed, hands raised. “The match is in my hand… The match is in my hand!” The crowd shook, starting to jump. “You’re just a paper!”

A deafening pop and sound and lights died.

“A paper tiger!” The last yelled words sounded, only audible because of how close Danny was to the stage. 

For a few more seconds, the crowd continued jumping, the band still trying to play as Josh sang without amplification . “Nothing more than a… silver tongued… liar?” 

But the movement stalled, fizzling out. The half ghost stumbled to a stop, brow furrowing in confusion. Around him the crowd started to murmur.

On stage, the guitarist closest to the trio, short cropped hair and bare faced in a tank top, stummed, no sound coming through the speaker. His head turned toward the others already gathering around the drum set. “Did we just lose power?”

The drummer shrugged. One of the lights flashed on, randomly swiveling on its display. The spotlight shone right in the short haired musician’s face. “Woah!” He closed his eyes, head jerking away. The sound echoed out. The man blinked. “Hey, the mic’s back.”

More strumming attempts. Josh tried his mic again, lowering it with a confused look. The drummer motioned to something on the laptop set up beside the kit.

The guitarist turned his attention back to the audience. “Well, that’s how you know it’s live and we’re not just playing over a recording.” He laughed, strumming his guitar and making a face. “Anyone want to hear a joke?”

Under the stage something black flickered again. Danny titled his head, brow furrowed.

“What's a vampire's favorite kind of candy?” He gave a pause for effect, murmurs of question coming from the audience. Then… "A sucker."

Around him, people chuckled lightly, several groaning at the bad joke. On stage, the man continued. “There’s more where that came from. What do….”

The words drifted over Danny’s head, unable to keep his attention. Instead, his focus was on a… weird, unnaturally dark shadow. It undulated, half-slinging-half-crawling in the recesses under the stage. 

Another electric pop. The lights swiveled.

Danny almost swore he heard laughter….

The half ghost’s head turned side to side, looking. Was… no one else really seeing this?

The creature…. The ghost (it must be another ghost, with the way his ghost sense was swirling in his throat) chuckled again, static echoing through the speakers.

A few people winced, covering their ears. “Okay, okay, no more dad jokes.”

Somehow no one was seeing the ghost. How? Other people had been able to see the Lunch Lady and Dora. Wait…. It must have been the partial invisibility like Sidney showed him. But why…

“Hey!” The word was hissed, just a hint of ghostly echo. 

Danny’s head jerked, looking for the source of the noise. His gaze scanned the crowd. For just a second, his eyes met his mother’s, her brow wrinkled in concern as she stood up. 

Then… his gaze met a wavering, ethereal figure. Johnny…

“Cut it out!” The ghostly man hissed. He drifted forward, unseen by the crowd even as he literally, intangibly floated through them. 

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m not doing anything.” He muttered hotly, earning a confused look from Tucker.

The biker ghost “What? No, not-” Another crackle cut off the word, the man covering his ears. His eyes narrowed, fixing on….

The strange embodiment of darkness. 

Oh. Danny realized 

“Cut it out, Shadow.” The man complained. “I’m actually enjoying this. Go make a kid drop their ice cream or something.”

Danny raised a brow at that last part but Johnny waved him off, attention still on the shadow.

“I’ll bring out the flashlight, man. Just you keep it up and see.” The other ghost threatened.

The living (unliving? undead?) shadow seemed to deflate. With something like a sigh, it zipped off.

The lights came back on. “Hey!” Several positive shouts came from the stage. 

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Danny picked up the words, from the other guitarist and unamplified.

The half ghost turned his attention back to Johnny. “What was that about?” He asked quietly.

The man shrugged. “There’s a reason they call me Unlucky Johnny 13.” He motioned, waving in the general direction the shadow had gone. “Thing’s got a mind of its own.”

That… answered no questions. But the other ghost ignored Danny’s confused look, instead lifting a hand. “There you are Kitty.” His eyes lit up and in a blink, he disappeared, materializing at the green-haired woman’s side seconds later.

Danny just blinked, taking in what had just happened. That was… something.

“...feel like my ears are burning. They’re talking about me, aren’t they?” The words drew the half ghost’s attention back. The guitarist pointed his thumb at his bandmates. “I’m being voted out of the band, aren’t I?” The look was falsely aghast. “This’ll be my last show with the Protest, guys. It’s been fun.”

What the heck had he missed?

Just then, his mom tapped on his shoulder.

Danny turned jerkily, surprised. “When did you get here?”

The woman’s brow furrowed in concern. “You had a strange look on your face. Is everything alright sweetie? ”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” His eyes flickered to the two ghosts standing at the edge of the crowd. The halfa’s voice lowered, stepping closer to the woman. “There’s two ghosts, the biker couple we saw in the Realms. And this weird shadow ghost that was messing with the sound. The dude, Johnny, yelled at it to stop and it flew off somewhere.”

His mom looked in the direction his gaze had flickered. “I can’t see them.”

“I don’t think anyone else can either. Just me.” The boy shrugged. “It’s a ghost thing.”

“What are they doing?” She asked.

“Just watching the show. Johnny said they came through a natural portal and wanted to have some fun.”

Her forehead wrinkled in worry at the statement. “A natural portal again?”

“We’re good to go!” The crowd cheering interrupted Danny’s response. Josh’s words echoed. “Let’s start this again.” 

“We can talk later.” Danny had to raise his voice to be heard. Accepting a nod in response, he turned back to the front.

The band was walking off the stage, only to return moments later to cheers. 

The instruments pounded. The singer held the mic to his mouth and… “I caught you like the monster hiding under my bed….”

The song started again and Danny jumped, previous confusion and worry quickly forgotten.

“You’re just a paper! A paper tiger! Nothing more than a silver tongued liar! Paper! Paper Tiger! Incinerated by my new found fire!”

The crowd jumped and screamed. Song after song, excitement built.

Josh sang. “You may feel a change but don't be afraid.” 

“The transformation has just begun!” The short-haired guitarist quipped with a grin, pointing at the audience….

The words half-chanted. “In the freak show. In the freak show. In the freak show.” Hands flailed, shoulders shook as Danny and his friends danced.

 “Your mind will be blown away! Hey!” Each word punctuated by a fist to the sky. “Hey! Hey!” 

“Welcome to the Freakshow!” Second chorus ending, the crowd reached a fever pitch.

His heart beating in time with the music, Danny head-banged. His hair flung, dripping with sweat.

Something square and silver at the edge of his vision. Head turned, brow furrowed. His mom had her phone out, lens facing him. 

The boy snorted. Sore neck bobbing faster, he stuck out his tongue at her….

In the small break before the next song… “You’re supposed to take pictures of the band, not me!” Danny laughed…

The set forgaged on. Shredding guitars, pounding drums, screamed words. The songs were incredible. And the message in between…

“If you leave here tonight with one thing, know that you are loved so much. Do you guys understand me?” Murmurs of agreement. “So much. You have no idea.” Josh’s eyes were wide and earnest, so much conviction behind the words. “After we’re done playing tonight, we will be over at the merch tent. Please come talk to us. You are looking at four sinners so we don’t have all the answers, I promise you that. We don’t. We would love to hear your story. We’d love to pray with you. We’d love to talk with you. That’s why we’re here. That’s why all of these bands are here, why we drove hundreds of miles to be here today. To share the hope that we have in Jesus. We love you guys so so much. Come hang out with us. We’ve got a few more for you….”

Danny’s heart squeezed, something deep in him touched by the words. He didn’t know about all of this, but that offer… to be heard, to be listened to. There were plenty of things he couldn’t say but…

Another song started. By now, the almost euphoric excitement had smoothed, lessened, morphed into a more quiet, heartfelt joy. Even still, the words sent goose bumps over the half ghost’s arm.

“This is the time for life revolution

Setting a course to reclaim the broken.

We look to find those lost in the night.

Following hearts that lead like a compass

Fire will rise and we let it guide us.”

The singer leaned over the crowd and the half ghost sang, his soul pouring into each syllable. “Despite the pain, we’ll stay unbroken.” 

Each voice ringing in harmony, brown eyes and blue eyes met. Something in Danny’s chest fluttered, breathless and awed. He could never describe the feeling, not completely.  But when gazes met… belief resonated. Both meant every single word….

To cheers, the set ended. The lights dimmed as people started walking away. And for a long moment, Danny stood in front of the stage, eyes wide and heart light. That amazed feeling stirred…

“We need to get a picture!” Jazz’s hand on his shoulder drew him out of himself.

“Yeah. Go for it.” The boy smiled, letting his sister put her arm around him. 

The pair took a selfie, each with matching grins. The red-head lowered the phone. And Danny finally registered his friends and family hovering around him.

“That first band was so good!” His dad gushed. “They’re just like that band I was in in college! Good ol’ Skunk Punks! But they’ve got much better hair. And better lyrics.”

“Your strengths are in things other than lyrical composition, dear.” His mom graciously didn’t speak on the hair comment. 

Sam pulled him and Tucker across the grass. “We need to get pictures with everyone! And merch! I want one of like everything.”

“Yes! I need the GFM snapback. Their set was so good!” The technogeek laughed, pointing at the icing staining her shirt. “They got you to wear pink. And.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m the only one who didn’t get icing on them

The goth rolled her eyes but then a mischievous look passed her face. “That’s what you think.” 

“What are you- Hey!”

She swiped a glob of crusting icing from her shirt and shoved it at him. “Ha!”

“Not my beret! Sam, how could you!?”

Danny just laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone bought merch. The Relent Ghost shirt and a wristband for GFM and The Protest for Danny. For Sam, the pink and black skateboard, a delightfully cute and creepy pink, green, and black shirt, and a bunch of CDs. (“Who even buys CDs anymore? You can just stream that.” Tucker wrinkled his nose. The goth pulled his hand down over his face. “I want to actually support the bands I like, Tucker. Spotify doesn’t deserve a cent.) The technogeek proceeded to buy his own CD and his coveted snapback.

Danny’s parents even got in on the action. Dad apparently bought a Chaotic Resemblance shirt for everyone in the family. And the famed pink leather bracelet.

Pictures were taken with every band. 

“A silly one next!” Noses were scrunched up in ridiculous expressions. Two members of the Protest pretended to be punching each other. Danny laughed more still.

Words were exchanged, excited ones about the show….

“Awesome set!” Each GFM member was offered a high five.

More casual ones, about school and interests. (Unsurprisingly Josh and co were very personable.)

“Yeah. I just started ninth grade. It’s going pretty well.” “What’s your favorite subject?” “Science. I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut…”

And somber ones.

The last band Danny got to speak to was Relent. His heart twisted, words lingering heavy on it. You should say something, a voice in him, not audible but very much present, whispered. The ghost boy listened.

“The last few months have been… really hard for me, for a bunch of reasons. But… I’ve listened to your song, Heavy a bunch of times. And it’s really helped me. Like… uhh… when I couldn’t sleep and just wanted to cry. And… yeah. I’ve listened to it alot and all your other songs so…. Thanks for writing them and putting them out. And… uh… thanks for being here tonight.”

Danny looked down, nervousness flopping his stomach.

“That’s why we write songs and tour.” The lead singer (In their introduction, Danny learned his name was Miggy.) “Like I said on stage, I hope that our songs help people. Thanks for telling me, man.” His expression softened, earnest. “Do you mind if I pray for you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Danny’s friends and family walked back towards the GEV, the boy lingered for just a moment to look over the field. For just a second, three ghostly figures flickered into existence. Kitty and Johnny, the black shadow curled at the man’s feet, floated in front of the stage, unseen by all except the half ghost. The man nodded in his direction, lifting a cigarette-gripping hand. The green-haired woman waved.

Danny returned the gesture, lips quirking as the couple disappeared. He had a feeling he’d be seeing them again.

With the ghosts gone, the boy turned his attention back to the activity across the field. The bands were still active, packing up instruments and putting them in the vans and buses. Soon enough the stage would be torn down as well, leaving no evidence of the concert that had been here. 

Even so, the half ghost’s heavy heart felt lightened. He felt better after talking to Miggy; that had been good for him. The boy sighed. This had been an incredible night. 

Sam bumped his shoulder. “Come on. Tucker asked and your dad said he’s taking us to Nasty Burger for shakes.”

It looked like the night wasn’t over yet.

Everyone piled into the GEV and his dad pulled out, leaving the almost empty parking lot. A few minutes later found the trio sitting at a picnic table outside the restaurant, each nursing their own shake.

Chatter batted back and forth, jokes and memories. The three looked through the pictures that had been taken.

“That’s a good one! You got him mid-head bang.” Tucker pointed while he and Danny leaned over Sam’s phone, admiring a picture of Josh Bramlett with his hair spread in a halo above him.

“I love this one.” The goth swiped. This photo was of GFM’s drummer, an excited grin plastered on her face.

“Drummer pics are so hard to get! That’s awesome.” Danny congratulated.

The conversation continued on, milkshakes almost finished and… 

The half ghost sighed. “Thanks guys for being there.” 

That got him strange looks. “Dude, of course we were going to come to the show with you.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I…” Danny shook his head. He wasn’t exactly sure what prompted this line of thinking but… “I mean…. Thanks for being here for me. With the accident and then splitting myself. I know it’s been hard and you’ve been the best friends I could ask for.” He’d told them as much at Sam’s that day, when they’d convinced Phantom to talk to Fenton about re-fusing and his denial of his death. And even before that…

He blushed. “You guys are the ones who convinced Phantom me to stop denying we were the same person. You guys… you saw me.. You knew me even when I didn’t know myself. So…” He bit his lip. “Thanks for sticking with me,” There in the Hot Topic dressing room, after his ghost self had flown off… “even when I was a jerk to you guys.” 

His friends’ expressions softened. “You really don’t have to thank us, Danny. That’s what friends are for.” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Tucker smiled. “We’re your friends. Of course we’ll stick by you. You’d do the same for us.”

Danny sighed, shaking his head. “Like I said, you guys are the best.”

His best friends both reacted out. An awkward group hug… the table in the middle had just their arms touching each other, heads close together. But Danny closed his eyes, heart warm.

This really had been the best day.

End note: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it. :) As always, feel free to let me know what you liked.

[stellar-waves]

maybe tomorrow

{ Friday Night Lights (film) }

Don misses the lights. Originally written in 2006.

. . .

Not today...not on Friday. I thought that feeling would go away...boy was I wrong.

The crowd walking out of the stadium keeps getting smaller. Quite a few of them look in my direction with that "Hey, I remember you" look. No wonder, it's only been a year since I set foot in that stadium, all suited up and ready to play my fucking heart out. Hell, it's been a year since I've been in that stadium period. I couldn't force myself to watch someone else play...not this season. Just didn't seem riht. Almost like I would fall into that god-awful group of glory-day has-beens...a group I despised for so long.

My legs feel heavy as I approach the entrance. The lights almost blind me. I stare across the rows of empty chairs, inhaling the familiar scent of sweat and dirt. I try to step onto the field, but my stomach twists. The lump in my throat is harder to swallow. It's really over. 17 is really gone...and I can't get it back.

Just step onto the field, I tell myself. The grass blades crunch beneath my feet. It's quiet...so different from the games. This just isn't right...I should be playing, those stands should be filled, that scoreboard should be counting down the remaining seconds...and Mike should be standing next to me.

My stomach twists again and I suddenly feel weak. Why does it all have to end? I fall to my knees in utter defeat. We lost the state championship...and just like that, we were done.

Everyone kept telling me that it wasn't the end, that my life was only beginning. Everyone except Dad. He said I have one year to do something, to make it all matter. One final year. After that, nothing gets better...nothing becomes spectacular.

"I'll be damned if you don't miss it."

Tears well up in my eyes as I stare out towards the open field. I lift my head to look at the lights against the dark sky. Stars cease to exist here...the lights are all you need.

Yeah, I do miss it. Maybe tomorrow I won't, maybe I'll start forgetting what it's like to carry that ball into the end zone. Maybe I'll start forgetting what it's like to hold Mike's hand in the huddles...what it's like to bleed black and white. Maybe tomorrow my heart won't beat mojo anymore.

. . .

[voidedgear]

Kairi’s scream echos through the empty area.

There’s something sickly satisfying about seeing a Princess of Heart sprawled on the ground, watching her writhe from the agony that Vanitas has inflicted on her. Fat tears roll down her cheeks as she sobs into the dirt. It appeals to a destructive instinct deep inside him and makes him grin wickedly. This is how it should be. This is right.

The lingering light that’s been making their battlefield glow is starting to fade now that Kairi has been downed, the soft grasses muffle Vanitas’ footsteps as he approaches her. He’s sure that he has her, so sure that he isn’t even bothering to keep Void Gear at the ready.

‘So, this is the best the Princess can do,’ Vanitas thinks, his boots crunching over some leaves. ‘Aqua really must be handling her with kiddie gloves. She’s lucky I came along to knock some sense into her.’

The thought pleases him, though if asked, Vanitas wouldn’t have been able to say why.

The field is completely dark, now. The lack of light might have been comforting, but the darkness is just as eager to drown him. His dark bodysuit almost seems to merge into it, save for the glowing red veins that adorn his chest.

“No one is coming to save you, Kairi,” he says, stopping before her. It’s the first time he’s used her name, and there’s something mocking in the fact that he’s chosen now of all times to do so.

He breathes deeply, taking in the fear he can feel rolling off Kairi in endless waves. It’s strange, even her emotions are pure. She can be as angry, as hateful, as afraid as she wants, and the darkness would still never be able to taint her heart. What must it be like!

Vanitas’ movements are lazy in how he raises his Keyblade up, gripping it with both hands, tip pointed down straight at her heart. He watches Kairi curl up on herself in anticipation of his strike, trying to protect her heart. He could easily kick her onto her back and plunge his blade into her.

But…he doesn’t.

Vanitas stands there, his helmet a black void that betrays nothing, Keyblade held aloft, and… nothing. He just holds it there, staring down at her with narrowed eyes. An unseen grimace grows across his face.

He’s at a crossroads now that his prey is in his grasp. For a moment, he almost seems like a dog who doesn’t know exactly what to do with the rabbit he’s caught. He could take her life. Or he could leave, and let the memory of this defeat consume her.

But… neither option particularly satisfies him. If he kills her, then what? The only reason he’s approached her in the first place was because he wanted to learn why she’s been consuming his thoughts. If he kills her now, she’ll just be gone and Vanitas will have no answers.

He will never learn anything. Taking her life would be pointless.

It’s difficult to act on this fact, to restrain himself from giving into the urge to snuff such a precious light from the world. But Vanitas is more than a blind animal acting on impulse, he’s above such base creatures as Heartless. He takes a deep breath, and—

“We could have b-been friends!!!" Kairi blurts out, stammering over the words as her own fear chokes her voice. Vanitas’ mind goes blank and he cocks his head to the side. But, before he can say anything, Kairi is screaming at him again.

To be completely sincere, Vanitas is at a bit of a loss at it. He watches her turn toward him and crawl across the ground, her Keyblade back in her hand despite how close she looks to passing out. He’s motionless, even as Kairi vomits blood into the grass.

‘What in the—’ Vanitas thinks, his raised arms loosening from the confounding display. ‘I hit her back, not her head. What is she going on about this for?’

‘It’s too soon for blood loss to set in.’ He crouches down in front of her and reaches out to grab her wrist, the wrist clinging to Destiny’s Embrace. He turns her wrist carelessly, pressing his thumb to the center of it. The darkness around his hand dissolves off, revealing pale skin and long, pointed black nails.

Vanitas says nothing as he concentrates, ignoring any efforts for her to pull away. He’s counting in his head.

Xehanort had been an abusive master, but he’d still taught Vanitas a thing or two. Cure magic didn’t come naturally to beings of darkness, so he’d had to learn how to patch himself back up when Xehanort decided the training sessions were over.

And, as it turned out, Xehanort had been more than willing to teach Vanitas how to check his body for more extensive, less visible injuries. There’d been a time when the pain Vanitas felt when he would slay his own Unversed had actually concerned the old man enough that he’d wanted to check his health—if only to ensure that one half of the χ-blade would remain under his control.

Still, it had been interesting to learn about, and it was a consistent sort of mild entertainment when the old man would leave him alone in the Graveyard. Vanitas lost track of all the times he’d walk around with his hand on his pulse, counting the throbs. Sometimes, he’d break out into a sudden sprint and run himself to exhaustion, just so he could check the rhythm of his heart.

Of course, he’s never had anyone to else to compare his pulse to. For all he knows, his might be naturally higher, or lower.

Kairi’s pulse is light and fast. Her heart must be beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

When Vanitas had forced his Unversed to fight back against him to train, he’d ended up covered in so many cuts that he’d nearly bled himself dry. Xehanort had managed to find him and repair the significant damage, but Vanitas still remembered how fast his pulse had raced. How his heart had struggled to beat blood through his veins.

Vanitas tilts his head to the other side as he watches Kairi, curious. It’d taken a while to bleed out to get to that state. So, he doubted it was the same. Perhaps it was excitement from their short bout? Or from fear…? Pain, stress…?

He drops Kairi’s wrist and dismisses Void Gear, folding his arms over his knees as he stays crouched before the Princess. The darkness spreads back over his hand like it’s something living.

“Are you actually dying right now?” Vanitas asks, nearly all aggression gone from his voice. He sounds curious, rather. “Maybe I did hit your head.”

Well, he’s already decided that he’s keeping her alive to investigate her. Now that he’d been distracted from his aggression by curiosity, he’s finding it much easier.

Vanitas reaches out and grabs her wrist again, concentrating hard. Just because healing magic was difficult for a being of darkness, didn’t mean that it was impossible to learn. He just couldn’t do it while in the thick of battle.

A gentle warmth rushes through Kairi, mending her bones and sinew. He tightens his grip on her arm, intending to keep her from striking back at him with her returning strength.

☄. *. ⋆ ┈┈┈ The true, festering wound Kairi has carried for oh so long, the one she tries to suffocate beneath smiles and tender declarations and silly jokes... the one secret she couldn't bear if anyone ever knew it...

She does want to be loved by everyone.

Kairi knows that isn't possible--she knows that--if Sora's endless adventure painted one truth very clearly for her it was this:

People would hate her for no reason at all. And, in the same way, they would hurt her for any reason too.

She hated that--she hated the fact that these big scary villains would scoop her up and taunt her and fight her just like this... all because she crash-landed on Sora's homeworld years and years ago... all because she had the audacity to become his friend.

But she never got a chance to explain to Xemnas or Xehanort, and likely even to this boy here now, why she chose to be Sora's friend...

So many people in these worlds used her for her bright, pure heart. But Sora... all Sora ever did was smile at her.

So why... is she always being punished for loving that about him...?

( Why does loving Sora hurt this much...? But he's not the one lashing at me now--it's only because I know him better than anyone else... and they all hate me for it. )

Thus, somehow by choosing to remain steadfast and serene by Sora's side, the worlds hated her more than they could ever know to if she'd just overlooked his smiles and kindness that first day on Destiny Islands...

Yet... even if someone had told her this very truth when she first met Sora--even if they begged her to walk away from him and that silver-haired boy beside him and they insisted she'd be so much happier without them both--

She never would. She would choose, every single time, every single day, for no reason at all... she would choose to be his friend. No matter what stood between them.

A thousand faceless villains can fight them to keep her and Sora apart now--and she'll just keep TRYING no matter how much it hurts. He saved her so many times she can't keep count anymore, so maybe just this once she could save Sora this time--even if she might lose tonight's battle in a truly painful, horrific way...

The helmeted boy crashes back up onto their Light-encased battlefield--he writhes and sinks to his knees--his helmet faintly cracks, his suit which appears to be made entirely of darkness is cringing away from the Light itself to reveal pale shoulders, actual skin--

She blinks at this thought--stepping back roughly at the obvious realization--wait, so he's not just darkness...? he might... just be a kid too...?

She thinks for one breathless moment perhaps she's beaten him back so efficiently with her Light that's he's unable to continue fighting--a spasm of joy and relief breaks through her fear for one second, a grin is trying to worm onto her worried features (that sure had been easy...!)--

But then he's climbing to his feet and he's sneering at her with wrath and hate that she doesn't feel she deserves: "It’s gonna take more than a little light show to stop me, Your Highness."

Now true terror settles over her completely--her breath starts pumping through her lungs too fast, as if preparing her for the sprint she'd better commit to quickly if she wants to live--but she's just stunned, paralyzed--a deep, unsettling dread ensnares her far too easily upon the battlefield... her legs shake terribly, knees clacking together--

His suit looks wholly repaired, shiny and completely encasing his form once more--his helmet is pristine, it looks like nothing happened, the glowing glass of Light beneath their feet is the only testament that Kairi did anything more than blink at him blankly like this...

“Why don’t I show you a trick of my own?” He asks her--

"WAIT!!" Kairi screams, hunching down to protect her heart, as if she thinks he has any reason to listen to her--as if he should, merely because she's asking--she strikes up her hand over the air, like her spindly fingers alone could ever stop him--

He disappears--fragments into a thousand pinpoints of darkness that zip away entirely--

And then...

"Too slow."

HER BACK IS WHIPPED HARD WITH THAT BLOCKY, IRON KEYBLADE OF HIS SPUN FROM THE DARK--she gasps screams heaves--it hurts, oh hearts, why is it burning?!?!?!

She's flung over the Light she brought forth--she crashes into it so hard her head bounces back up--and she's scrabbling at all that brightness underneath her, thinking blindly he can't kill me, he won't, the Light is going to save me--someone is going to save me--

( Someone always saves me!!! )

It's so weird when Sora doesn't materialize out of thin air in front of her hazy vision--she feels so lost all of a sudden that he couldn't surge through time and dreams and love to find her crumpled up and broken like this--

She hates herself for thinking he should be here.

And she cries--big tears that slide over her contorted face pressed into a grief so profound it sears far more than her back that has gone oddly numb--she doesn't look nearly as pretty when she's sobbing over the ground, her torment so strong even the Light beneath them just... it sizzles away... leaving the boy in his helmet and this shattered princess over the solemn grass in sudden darkness...

Yet all those stars are cascading over the night sky even still. She just wanted to see those stars...

She curls into herself a bit as she writhes from bones that don't feel like they're in the right spots anymore--her lungs are constricting and too tight--she just can't get enough air in anymore--

And somewhere among all this despair, Destiny's Embrace left her behind too.

"W-We could have--we could have b-been friends!!!" She screams this and such a ragged tone and blazing volume hurts to unleash too... but she's very angry and she may die after this anyway, so he's going to at least listen to her last words. "We could have been friends..."

Somehow--impossibly, swaying, stumbling to her feet--she's standing again, but there's blood dribbling over her lips and her face is bruising from smacking into the ground too roughly, yet she's standing there--

"B-But you chose this... instead!!! Be-because it's easier to hurt than to try!!! N-Not for me... not for me..."

She takes a jarring, breathless step forward--grits her teeth so hard her jaw is aching--

Kairi pulls up a shaking hand and Destiny's Embrace flies into her dirty fingers again....

"C'mon!!! If you're go--going to kill m-me..." A sharp gasp escapes her then and she goes tumbling back into the grass. Dammit!! Not yet, not yet! She's heaving there hard for a moment, clinging to her Keyblade's hilt so roughly her fingers have grown entirely white. "Just do it already!!!"

Now she's crawling to him, as if she thinks she can still fight, as if there's something she can still do... even if no one is coming now...

"Just know... I'm not gonna stop--I'm not gonna stop trying EVER!! Not anymore... not until you kill me... S-Sora deserves that..."

The edges of her vision is fading, she retches up blood, stares at it oddly in the grass, like she isn't sure what she's seeing--

"Sora... never stops... trying..."

She quavers there, frozen, very certain if she takes one more awful movement onward she's going to pass out from blinding pain--

( I'm so sorry Sora, Riku... I just wanted you both to be proud of me... )

[mindninjax]

To Shape a Home (9)

Autumn- Chapter 9

Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Bakugo x reader

Warnings: BEING CUTE WITH COWSSSSSS

WC: 4.5k

a/n: ANOTHER ONE OF MY FAVOROTE CHAPTERS TO WRITE AND LOWKEY THE INSPIRATION FOR THIS ENTIRE FIC! HE COWSSSSSS

Katsuki’s house isn’t at all what you expected. You’re not sure what you expected, but it strikes you as more normal than you thought it would be. The grass when you pull up is perfectly mowed, his barn is in great shape. There’s a tiny herd of cows out grazing in his small fenced in field. The grass is exceptionally green even under the autumn sun.

There aren’t many trees on his property so it feels more open and free. It smells like manure, and wet leaves but it’s not a bad scent. It’s comforting. Even the outside of his home is comforting. It looks cozy and inviting which is ironic considering he was anything but that when you first met. But it means he takes extra care of his land and somehow that makes you want to know him even more.

When you pull into his long driveway your stomach is gurgling with so many nerves. You almost wish you could throw up and get it all out and then walk up to his house with your head held high. Instead, you struggle holding the pan of pumpkin squares you spent hours obsessing over and nudging the truck door closed with your hip.

Katsuki answers the door almost immediately after you knock. Was he waiting for you? Did he see you drive up? He looks different standing in the comforts of his own home, more relaxed as he stands barefoot in a simple black shirt and sweatpants. As always he looks good, but something about him being comfortable even though you’re around, makes your stomach do flips.

“Afternoon, Katsuki. Hope you’ve got a sweet tooth,” you say, beaming up at him.

He raises an eyebrow and you hold the fancy ceramic baking dish up for him to catch a whiff of the treat.

“Thought you said you were makin’ a dumb ass casserole or somethin’,” he replies stepping aside to let you in.

“I don’t think you’ve earned my cooking yet,” you joke and he snorts.

The inside of Katsuki’s home is also not what you expected. It’s open just as the land outside is. Clean, organized, not heavily decorated but containing all the essentials. Nothing’s out of place and it feels very generic, save for the huge round rug in the middle of the living room.

The walls are empty, the furniture looks comfy but plain. He doesn’t have a tv, or pictures or anything that would hint at anyone actually living here. It smells like lemon cleaner and you wonder if he’s been cleaning all day in preparation for your visit.

“Shoes off?” you ask, looking up at him as he closes the door behind you.

“Iffin ya don’t mind. Don’t like all the mud and shit on the floors and rugs,” he grunts, blushing slightly.

You smile to yourself; so he does care about his home. It’s strange that there’s no other decorations. Maybe he’s just not that into interior design? You make a mental note to ask him about it later as you slide out of your boots. When they’re off and sitting propped by the door, you both stand in the foyer awkwardly.

You bite the side of your cheek as you sway awkwardly and wait for him to say or do anything but he only stares out the window in the living room with his arms crossed over his chest. You take a deep breath, ok so he needs a little help. That you can do.

“So uhh..can I take these to the kitchen? I’m watching you eat at least one before I leave so you can tell me how great of a baker I am.”

You hold the dish up again and he smirks—thankfully—before he brushes past you and beckons you into the kitchen.  As you stroll through the hallway you notice the bare walls again. They definitely stand out, is it because they’re bare like yours? How long has he lived here? Certainly long enough to have some decorations up.

You’re even more curious when you notice the ghost of a picture frame on the wall the stairs lead up to. So he did have something hanging there. What was it and why is it gone now? You get the feeling there’s a long story behind it, he did tell you about an ex-girlfriend when you were in the cellar together.

The kitchen is more lively when you step in and place your pan down on the island. You’ll bet that he actually spends most of his time here which is…hot. A man that can cook? Hot.  A man that likes to cook? Even better.

Do not think about cooking together in the kitchen. Don’t be stupid.

His kitchen has huge windows like yours. He must like the natural light and warmth of the sun while he cooks as well. His appliances are newer than yours but his pots and pans are worn or loved is what your Gran would have called them and again that makes you smile.

Everything is still tidy, but there’s more evidence of someone living here, an obvious difference to the rest of the house. Like a half empty glass on the wooden island, condensation leaking down the side and pooling beneath it. You twitch your fingers, it needs a coaster but this isn’t your house so you refrain.

Your nose is in the air when you enter, it smells like coffee, freshly brewed and instantly you’re dying for a cup. It’s still brewing, the sound of the brown liquid dripping into the pot is like a symphony to a coffee addict like yourself.

You raise an eyebrow, “Coffee? Didn’t take you for the type,” you say nodding toward the coffeemaker.

It looks brand spanking new which means he either never uses it or he bought it with the intention of serving coffee today. You shrug off the idea though, there’s no way he’s that interested in trying to impress you. He pulls a mug from a cupboard behind him and when noticing your eyes flicking over to the leaking glass he —thankfully, good gosh— slides a coaster under it.

“I ain’t. But I figured you were,” he mutters, trying to bury his consideration under a gruff nonchalance. He tacks on, “Shitty bean water but you city folk go nuts over it,” for good measure.

As the coffee brews, you chat more and it’s normal. It’s like popping rows of bubble wrap. Each little pop of new information he shares with you is like a rush of joy sent to your head. You find out little things about his hobbies and find yourself craving more. Peeling back his layers could be one of your favorite pastimes.

He makes his own fishing lures, which turn out to be very impressive because he has an eye for creativity. You knew this, clearly from the way he picked up the painting techniques you taught in class easily, but this seems more his speed. The ones he begrudgingly show you are extremely well crafted with no mistakes or weird knots in the thread. He’s got a steady hand, and you see him blush from the corner of your eye when you stare in amazement and compliment how beautiful his creations are.

He also likes to cook—called it—and spends an unhealthy amount of time thinking of new recipes to use the plentiful amount of veggies he harvests every year. You blow his mind when you suggest he jars his veggies and keep them saved for winter and you smirk to yourself when he accepts the offer for you to help him get started at a later date.

Sitting on the stool against the island, you notice how much closer he is to you. He’s leaning on the counter toward you with an arm resting near yours. You almost want to reach out and put a gentle hand over it.

You’re swooning–well not outwardly–when he talks about how much care goes into planting and taking care of the crops he grows. He almost looks like a different person. His shoulders are relaxed and he looks dazed when he peers out the window over the outstretch of his land. There’s no wrinkle between his brows, he leans close to the open window above the sink, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in and out.

“It’s paradise,” he mutters in a voice akin to a father praising his newborn son.

You think you get it now. Seeing him in this brief moment makes your heart swell, it makes you wish he was always this comfortable and calm and free. You’ve caught glimpses of it for sure, when he played with Frenchie at the fishing spot, or when he painted those perfect mountains on the canvas in your art class. But nothing beats the few seconds of him appreciating his home and his land and hardwork. If you could pause and take a picture of this moment, you would.

The slow drip of coffee in the pot soothes the atmosphere and as it dribbles to a halt you barely notice. You’re in the middle of a heated discussion because he had the nerve to call you a music snob. Like he has any right to call anyone a snob, he just got done telling you about how he only uses “fresh herbs” when he cooks.

“I’m not a snob because I like the authentic sound of a record, asshole,” you say pouting as he laughs at you.

“Ya see, that’s exactly what a music snob would say. ‘Authentic sound’, what a nerd! “ he mocks, wrapping an arm around his stomach and laughing harder.

When you poke your lips out further and –very childishly- stick your tongue out at him, he surprises both of you by lightly grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger. It’s a very quick gesture but it doesn’t manage to go unnoticed by both of you. It brings the conversation to a halt and you’re left blinking and blushing in surprise as he clears his throat.

“Coffee’s done,” he mutters and turns away to grab a mug and pour some for you.

Shake it off, don’t make this anymore weird than it already is, you say to yourself.

You were doing fine. Conversation seems to run smoothly when you both let yourself stay loose and enjoy the moment. Why do you keep fighting this? Why do you keep pulling back or being surprised when he touches you. God, you’ve never been this indecisive when it came to dating any of your exes, but with Katsuki it’s like an entirely new experience.

“How do you take it?”

His voice tears you out of your mind babble. “Oh uhh just a bit of milk or cream,” you sputter.

He gives you a look, that “I’m judging your choices look” and instantly you poke your lips out and pout again. “Last time I checked you were a farmer not a judge, so quit judging me,” you snap shimmying off the stool and grabbing your dish of pumpkin squares.

He smacks his lips and rolls his eyes as he adds cream to your coffee, sets the mug in front of you, then moves to grab two saucers from the cabinet. It’s fluid, natural, like you’ve both been doing this for a long time and it makes you think about how if you lived together, your morning routine would be a piece of cake.

Oh geez, morning routine? You feel like you’re a kid again, drawing your name with your crush’s name in hearts on your notebook. Pathetic. You’re not even sure this man actually likes you like that. A few months ago he hated your guts.

You sigh and he places the saucers down in front of you. Then he moves behind you, a hand on the small of your back and grunts, “sorry” before he opens a drawer and pulls out a spatula for you to serve the cake. You still feel the warmth of his palm on your back and the hair on your arm stands up.

Ok so maybe he does like you.

The smuggest smile you can muster is plastered on your face when you watch Katsuki take a bite of your pumpkin square. You’d watched nervously as he sniffed and smelled and grimaced at your pastry before hesitantly putting it to his lips and taking a bite. But the second it hit his tongue his grimace changed instantly to shock.  He continues chewing as you take a sip of your coffee to hide your delight behind the mug.

“The fuck did ya put in this?” he asks as he takes another bite. This time you can’t help the squeal of excitement that escapes you.

“Is it that good?” There’s something about hearing praise from him. It makes you tingle, makes you shiver in excitement. It makes you feel special. You get the feeling he doesn’t give praise out willy nilly. Checkmate.

“I made the cream cheese myself! Used Fatima’s milk and spent like three days making it into cream cheese and then making it a sweet frosting was easy after I got the right consistency,” you explain putting a finger to your lips and rambling.

“Fatima?” Katsuki grunts as he shoves the remaining bite into his mouth.

“Mmm hmm. My cow,” you nod.

“You have a cow?”

“Yeah! I got her two weeks ago. That’s why I've been so busy. Been trying to get her accustomed to her new home,” you say proudly.

You don’t miss the small breath of relief that escapes him when you explain. So he did think you were avoiding him –you were but he didn’t need to know that–but you’re happy he believes otherwise. His shoulders relax a bit more and he’s no longer clenching his fists.

“Her and Frenchie get along perfectly. She’s a good gal. Easy to talk to,” you continue.

“Easy to talk to? Right, I forgot you talk to your animals like their humans.”

It always comes back to this. He really should try it before he judges you. You remember his confusion when you mentioned his “lonely look.” It’s still there, behind his eyes and in the way he speaks and moves but you’ve noticed it’s not so prominent anymore.

“I’m telling you, don’t knock it til you try it,” you shrug.

“They don’t talk back dummy, how am I supposed to have a conversation?” He argues, folding his arms over his chest.

“They talk back…in their own way. You just gotta listen to them,” you insist moving closer to poke him in the chest. This time the action is more casual, teasing, and friendly. Yeah, you got this.

“Pft,” he scoffs.

The spark of an idea lights up your face then and you hold your hand up to his face,  palm upward.

“I’ll prove it. Take me to the cows,” you say, shaking your hand in front of him so that he gets the hint to grab it and guide you. Is this a ploy to try and hold his hand? Maybe. But also his cows deserve this so it’s a win for all parties involved.

His eyes swivel between your hand and your face a few times before he rolls his eyes and grabs it, pulling you toward the door in the kitchen. His hand tightens around yours and you can’t help thinking how perfectly your hand fits in his.

When you both pull back on your shoes and he pulls you outside,  you’re hit with a crisp autumn breeze that blows through the knitted holes of your cardigan. The back of his home is even more beautiful than the front and you’re left speechless as you stare out onto the land.

More rolling hills in the distance illuminated by the golden afternoon sun, a few trees that still cling to their colorful leaves for warmth but none more grand than a huge oak tree that stands taller than any of the plants or buildings on his property. It’s gorgeous, something about it draws you in. You stare in amazement with parted lips and wide eyes.

“What? Don’t tell me they don’t have trees in the city?” he groans.

You’re too immersed in the scene to fire back a snappy comment. Instead, you keep staring and whisper in a dreamy voice, “It's beautiful. So old and lovely. Like it’s holding so many stories and memories. It’s fantastic.”

“Would you let me paint it one day?”

He pauses and with  a cocked eyebrow stares at you for what seems like hours. He must think you’re nuts, going all goo goo eyed over a goddamn tree. Still, you do really want to paint it, you can almost feel your limbs moving to outline it now. He turns away and you catch the way the tip of his ears are bright red under his tanned skin.

“Iffin ya want,” he shrugs and pulls you forward to continue leading you to the cow pen.

Katsuki has five cows and it’s super impressive. You’ve had a bit of a rough time trying to get into the groove of taking care of Fatima and for a few days you thought about giving up and giving her back to the seller. But you prevailed and now she’s become the greatest cow who ever lived, at least in your mind.

Katsuki’s cows are all beautiful, well fed, healthy, pretty coats, everything you expected after seeing the way he dotes on other portions of his home. When you approach the pen and Katsuki unhooks the gate and steps in, one of the cows looks up and takes a few steps toward him. You smile as the others snort and groan, sticking their noses in the half full trough.

The cow who’s slowly making her way over to Katsuki, bellows a low groan and when she reaches him, she knocks her head against his shoulder. He smiles and pats her snout, rubbing it gently before giving her a once over and deciding she still looks good.  You tiptoe over to her with a hand outstretched, smiling warmly before she sniffs your hand and licks it.

She is a beauty, chocolate brown with a few white spots across her belly. Her snout and udder are a powdery pink, her fur soft, and when she looks at you her eyes radiate warmth and understanding. She knows you’re a friend and it makes joy bubble up inside of you.

“Hey pretty girl,” you say sweetly.

You move to look into her eyes, she’s gentle, friendly and from the way her ears perk up at your voice, eager to communicate. You nuzzle your nose against her snout then turn to Katsuki who’s watching you like you’re a Disney princess talking to all her little animal friends.

“Does she have a name?” you ask.

“Course. They all do.  I ain’t a monster. I just don’t have weird small talk with ‘em,” he grumbles. He pushes his lips out pouting and you giggle. What a baby.

“What’s her name?”

Katsuki glances at the pattern on her side then says simply “Belle.”

“Belle! That’s cute. And the others?” you squeal stroking her snout as her tail swings back and forth.

He hesitates and huffs and you can tell he’s contemplating whether he wants to share or not. Fortunately, he lifts a finger and points to each cow. “Lucy, Himiko, Mara, and that’s…”

He trails off and grits his teeth in frustration. Strange. That’s the first time he’s looked annoyed since coming out to the pen.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s…?”

He growls and his jaw sets before he sighs in defeat. “Sweet Mama.”

No fucking way.

“Sweet Mama?! Oh my god,” you gasp, then double over laughing so hard Belle huffs an annoyed breath at you for being so loud. You quickly apologize, scratching behind her ear and soothing her before you address Katsuki. “I would’ve never thought you- “

“I didn’t.” He seethes. “I lost a bet while drinking with that damn idiot Denki. He won so he got to name her,” he explains in a rush.

Drinking? But, you thought he didn’t drink. You’re not sure where you got that idea from, no one told you but for some reason you always got the feeling he was uncomfortable around booze. Something about his body language or the way he is always sipping water at a get together. Granted, Eiji did tell you he works at Toshi’s so he can’t be too bothered by it.

“I’m surprised you stuck with it,” you reply honestly and he tuts.

He lifts his nose into the air stubbornly and folds his arms over his hulking chest. The muscles in his arm flex under the afternoon sun and you quickly tear your eyes away to look into Belle’s eyes. You swear she slides you a sly wink and you clear your throat quietly and mutter ”quit it,” to her under your breath.

“I keep my promises. No matter how stupid they are,” he says proudly. Your heart leaps at his statement and you remember the way he peered into your eyes and said  I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you or the dog, alrite? I promise.

“Plus, stubborn gal won’t answer to anything but that. I think she fucking likes it,” he groans, giving her a sour but sweet frown.

You giggle again. “Ok we’ll start with Belle then. She seems like she knows you the best,” you say rubbing her side gently and blowing her kisses.

Katsuki looks surprised, “Well uhh…she was the first cow I got but how can you tell that?” he asks, moving closer to her and throwing an arm over her neck.

Is he being serious? He really doesn’t see it? You want to make a snide comment about how he must be really good at shutting things out not to notice the obvious enamored expression this cow is giving him.

Instead you shrug and say  “She’s the only one who took a step toward the gate when we opened it.”

“So?”

“So…it means she’s looking forward to seeing you. The others know when the gate is open it probably means you’re cleaning or getting them water or food or something, so they move toward the trough. She stepped toward you to greet you because she loves you,” you explain, keeping your eyes fixed on Belle as you rub her softly.

He stares a bit dumbfounded. Does he think he’s unlovable? Even from the animals he takes care of everyday? You knew Katsuki had baggage, but that thought makes you want to clutch your chest in pain. Instead you shake your head in mock disappointment trying to keep the mood light. “Wow, you’d think I was the country expert.”

“Shaddup,”he grumbles back.

“Ok, now look in her eyes and say hello,” you instruct, pulling his hand to replace yours on her snout.

Katsuki looks down at his own hand  then back to you with hesitation before he –finally–mumbles a hello. He’s awkward, fidgety, and frustrated as he stumbles over his words. You’re petting Belle’s snout and whispering sweet things in her ear as she huffs and picks up on her farmer’s emotions.

“This is fucking stupid!” Katsuki yells suddenly and Belle grunts loudly with him taking a few steps back. You can feel her huffing in and out in the same frustration.

You reach out to Katsuki who has turned away from the cow and folded his arms over his chest, pouting again.

“No no it’s not! You’re doing great. She’s already connecting with you. When you get frustrated or nervous, so does she. Look!” you grasp his hand and it’s very warm.  In your clutch he instantly calms and you try to push his delicious scent back out of your mind to focus on Belle again.

You pull his hand to her side so he can feel her breathing and when you instruct him to take a deep breath in and out to calm himself, the cow huffs out with you both.

“It’s ok mama. He’s calming down now, see?” you whisper to her in reassurance.

You stare into her eyes and you can see something that wasn’t there before. Then you glance around her to stare at Katsuki and nod for him to continue talking to her.  He watches you as you soothe her, and you see a tiny spark in his eye as he realizes how connected Belle is to him.

He speaks gently this time, taking another deep breath and focusing all of his attention on the animal.  He’s very sweet, way less harsh than his usual bite and growl. It’s unusual but comforting and for a second, just one tiny blip of a second you picture him speaking to a baby in his arms who looks just like him.

He scoffs as she butts her head against his chest and you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“You think your nips are cold? Shoulda seen me last winter shoveling the entryway for you gals. Straight through my shirt, almost tore it,” he jokes and pats her head. He seems lost in the conversation and it’s a shame when your guffaw interrupts the moment and Belle groans and moos loudly.

Katsuki tries to look angry at the interruption but he smirks at you, unable to keep up the snarl on his face.

“She said quit laughing at me. She’s the woman of the house. She’ll stick up for me and kick your ass if you keep it up,” he pouts, pushing his lips out.

“Haha I guess I should apologize,” you say, patting her side and smiling big at him.

As Katsuki continues muttering sweet things to Belle, you watch his hands tenderly rub through her fur. You notice how long and thick his lashes are and how strong and prominent his jaw is as he smiles to himself while chatting with her. He’s… handsome, beautiful even, when he’s calm and looking like this. Your heart skips a beat and then speeds up.

“I’m sorry for bein’ an asshole to ya when ya first got here and at Toshi’s,” he says suddenly.

You’re caught off guard as he moves a hand over yours.  He squeezes it and you swallow hard. The intensity of the light hearted moment shifts into something more intimate and again you have a pull in your gut that tells you to move in to press your lips against his.

You push it away and instead say with a shrug, “I’m sorry I remind you of bad memories.”

“You don’t.”

He says it a little too quickly it almost sounds desperate and when he realizes it he turns his attention back to Belle quickly. Yet his hand stays planted atop yours. You grab it and he intakes a sharp breath that you ignore as you pull him back toward the house.

“Let’s have more cake, yeah?” you say cheerily as he walks behind you.

You don’t have to turn around to see his stifled delight as he squeezes your hand again and mutters, “Yeah, ok.”

—

Thanks for reading!