#i think it could be fun if jack was still a spirit

[saturnniidae]

Hijack infinity train au. This would definitely not end in tragedy

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

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Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

[sunsguilt]

SMASH OR PASS WITHOUT THE SMASH !┊ft: all nrc characters!

warnings: none! contains: gn reader

notes: this is essentially a dateability ranking in terms of pure survival and living your best life. i love all the characters dearly, and this is just for fun!

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts: don’t get me started on him. hypothetically, let’s say he has a single romantical bone in his body. he would probably (definitely) want to date someone his mother would approve of, so someone who’s super studious and thinking about becoming a lawyer type of thing. even then, his mother would be the overbearing MIL stereotype, and riddle would just bend to her every whim, so it wouldn’t work. would probably divorce you if his mom said to. 

overall rating: 2/10, could be a nice cushy life if he took his penchant for memorizing rules into a lawyer profession and became a rich husband, but still the MIL…. you would end up on r/relationshipadvice within weeks, i’m afraid. 

ace trappola: he’s like a frat boy to me, honestly. I think you could be friends with him within reason, but if you actually date him… he’s the kind of guy who would pursue you and then get bored once u start dating. whoops, he had a consensual workplace relationship. he canonically ghosted his ex, guys. 

overall rating: 3/10, you would be dating a frat boy. you don’t want that for yourself, trust me, speaking from second-hand experience here. 

deuce spade: deuce is actually normal. like he’s no rich boy, but his family is respectful and his mother would adore you if he brought you home. he’s a little slow, but he’s got the spirit, y’know? 

overall rating: 6/10, very nice in-laws, very cool husband. you may end up being the primary breadwinner. 

cater diamond: with cater, it’s probably a bromance that turns into a real romance. mostly because he didn’t want to confess and ruin the whole thing you had going on together. likely a guy who needs a lot of validation from his partner. like he’ll say he hates pickles if you don’t like pickles. will not let a pickle pass his lips. will try his very hardest to convince you to do silly couple challenges.

overall rating: 8/10, he’s sooooo cute but he’s got unresolved mental instability like you wouldn’t believe. personally, i love that in a man. call me fix-it felix.

trey clover: trey is. trey. average guy whose family runs a bakery. he’s cute though!

overall rating: 5/10, he’s probably a freak in terms of intimate relations! teehee! no further comment.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar: leona is a nice guy, respectful etc. but after a while, he’s not putting the same energy into the relationship as you are. the added layer of dating a literal prince…. no matter how disregarded he is by his family, he is second in line for the throne. the pressure from that sounds crazy, i won’t lie. you might be able to ignore the pressure of him bringing you home to straight up royalty ! overall rating: 5/10, he’s so dreamy and gorjus but he wears uncle sandals. jack howl: oh he’s so bf material, like you don’t understand. him being really firm on the fact that beastmen choose a life partner? wanting to fall in love and be committed to someone until his dying day? this is Romance. he's probs a good guy to bring to the gym for support if you’re just starting to work out regularly! might accidentally push you past your limits bc he’s thinking beastmen standards and not human. overall rating: 7/10, he’s so cute and i love him, but he’s a gym bro and does daily early morning jogs and such. cannot accept it. ruggie bucchi: he’s actually another really normal guy to date! he’s shown to do anything to provide for his loved ones (bringing food home from school to provide for his friends and family). very much an acts of service guy! 

overall rating: 4/10, the chances are high that he’ll do that thing that broke dudes do when they get all touchy and hug their partner when the partner pulls out their card to pay for something. 

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto: he would be nice to you ONLY if he had something to gain. would actually play the long game in order to sweet-talk you into signing some contract that totally screws you over forever. he is a capitalist at heart, i fear. he’s gonna get you in some get-rich-quick scheme. also, he can’t kiss and it would be weird and a lot more drool than necessary.  overall rating: 6/10, i love octopus.

jade leech: oh god. he’s like visually appealing but the longer he's talking, the worse it gets. his hobby would literally be getting your heart rate up. you’d be lucky if you don’t get high blood pressure from his desire to see your face twist in an ugly expression. he has a penchant for learning, so he’ll want to research the topic of his interest to the fullest to get the desired results.  overall rating: 3/10, the moment he’s tired of you, he’ll never speak to you again outside of a professional setting. floyd leech: he wants to have fun every day he can. which is fine, nothing wrong with that. the problem lies when he wants to rope you into it. and his idea of fun is….. questionable. he would call you up in the middle of the night and ask if you wanna go for a joyride that takes you over state lines. and you would only get like three minutes notice. he would also invite himself into your dorm and sleep in your bed. no, he’s not making the bed either, the guy canonically has to be forced into ironing his own shirt.  overall rating: 3/10, he looks like he bites unironically. would you get rabies if a humanized eel bit you?

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim: oh he’s so sweet, but the only problem is literally the fact that he’s rich. he frequently talks about multiple attempts on his life in his youth up until the present day. if people outside of your circle found out you were with him, word would surely spread to unwanted ears, and your life would be at risk because of that immediate association.  overall rating: 6/10, a total sweetheart, but i don’t think i’d be able to eat breakfast with him without wondering if something’s in our food. jamil viper: he has too many underlying issues that include but are not limited to: an inferiority complex that exists due to his forced proximity to kalim. as much as i’d love to say i could fix him, jamil almost killed kalim. Plus, jamil is literally kalim’s servant. association with kalim = will probably die. overall rating: 5/10, he’s got issues, but he’s so cute and probably just needs that reassurance or whatever. my silly guy!

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit: vil is like my fav so i’d love to say that because he’s so nice and rich and pretty that he would be a perfect ten. WRONG. he’s famous. bad! what if he has crazy stans who go after you bc you’re dating him? for your own safety, you would never be able to go public with your relationship, that is if the tabloids don't get to you.  overall rating: 7/10, you’ll have to listen to him go on tangents about neige. 

rook hunt: if you’re thinking “yeah no he’s probably a safe bet, he’s rich and i could be his trophy wife/husband”, you like french people and you’re lying to yourself !!!!! ive never met a normal rich person in my life, and rook is no exception. he would know your shoe size before you even know his last name. 

overall rating: 0/10, he’s weird AND french.

epel felmier: he lives in a small town where everyone tends to know each other and their business. there’s no hiding your relationship from them. downside is, he would have a crazy inferior complex if you were taller than him. He needs to be a Man’s man, yknow??? overall rating: 6/10, he’s a good cook, an incredible one, even. if you can’t cook and you can deal with a man who desperately wants to show you how cool he is, then this is the one for you. 

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud: he wouldn’t date, like he’s a NEET guys, i don’t see it at all. He would marry someone if it was for tax reasons, or just to tell people he isn’t bitchless. you'd just go to a courthouse real quick and pop by an ihop after.  

overall rating: 6/10, he would be an incredible overwatch carry. would bully you for sucking super hard in any type of pvp game. 

ortho shroud: he’s like a child, so he is not included! 

overall rating: 0/10, in terms of dateability, he’s silly tho

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia: you would be perfectly safe with him. yeah, he’s not fully clear on the norms of human society, but he treats you well! problem is, he'd be a little too obssessed and its going to very quickly turn into "he's going to keep u in this tower bc hes scared abt u dying"

overall rating: 7/10, wouldn’t you love a loser man who is obsessed with gargoyles?!  silver: objectively, the world’s most perfect man. he’s super cute and can cook! everything you would want in a man. he's also got his wacky little sitcom type family like step brothers who are Not human and a dad who is Not human but like they care for him he cares for them! 

overall rating: 9/10, no real drama and they'd probably be elated if he brought someone home.  sebek zigvolt: he would choose malleus over you every time, i’m so sorry. like “sorry babe malleus needs help shining his sword or whatever, you can start the movie without me.” realistically the only time sebek could be in a relationship is if he finds someone whos as obsessed with malleus as he is so they can be hyperfixated on him together or something. like how kpop stans marry each other, but with malleus the dragon prince. 

overall rating: 2/10, he would use you has a human dishrag to clean shoes for malleus.  lilia vanrouge: everyone loves a fictional old man, but this particular old man comes with trauma and emotional baggage spanning centuries. You can only fix-it felix your way out of so many things. he’s cute, though. 

overall rating: 4/10, canonically picks his nose, i fear.

— ☆

[solxamber]

do you do skully graves and reader (platonic)? If u do can like a qiqi!reader or huohuo!reader who helps him with stuff whilst either talking to ghosts are just being a forgetful zombie , thanks

Skully J. Graves x Huohuo! Reader

hi! I tried my best to adapt his personality to the new parts of event story, you can let me know if you wanted something different!

The fog clung to the streets, curling like ghostly fingers around every corner of the village. The eerie ambiance would have sent shivers down most people’s spines, but not Skully J. Graves. No, he basked in it, breathing in the cold, misty air with a grin so wide it would have made Jack Skellington proud. He adjusted his coat, looking proudly over the plans for his ideal Halloween.

“No lights,” he muttered, scribbling frantically on a scrap of parchment. “No candy. And absolute, complete darkness.” His grin widened, almost maniacal. “Perfect.”

“Skully, uh… why would anyone want a Halloween with no candy?” A soft voice broke his concentration, and he glanced up to see you, the strange friend who always seemed to be muttering to thin air. Except, in your case, it wasn’t thin air.

Around you, unseen to everyone else, lingered several translucent spirits, floating lazily like they didn’t have a care in the world. One of them—a particularly cheeky ghost with a mischievous smirk—whispered in your ear.

“No candy, no fun,” you echoed what the ghost said, looking between Skully and the air with slight anxiety. “I think he might be right, Skully… What if people just want to, you know, enjoy themselves?”

Skully rolled his eyes, barely hiding a grin. “Candy is for the weak. Jack Skellington never handed out candy. He—wait, what do you mean he might be right?” His eyes narrowed, staring directly where one of the ghosts hovered. “You talking to them again?”

You shrugged, giving a sheepish smile. “They’ve got opinions too, you know.”

Before Skully could respond, you were back to murmuring to another ghost. “No, no, no, I’m not ignoring you… Okay, okay, I’ll tell him.” You turned back to Skully. “Uh… the ghost by the market says you should maybe reconsider the ‘no lights’ thing. Might freak out the little ones.”

Skully crossed his arms, huffing. “Freaking out is the point, my dear! A true Halloween isn’t about fun and games. It’s about terror, darkness, and—beating up ghosts, obviously.”

One of the spirits around you let out a melodramatic wail, clearly offended. You winced, giving Skully a helpless look. “You really hurt their feelings…”

Skully sighed dramatically, waving his hand dismissively. “They’ll get over it. I’m just saying—Jack would agree with me.”

“He’s still mad you didn’t give him that apple the other day,” you added as if that were part of the conversation.

Skully paused, blinking at you. “Wait… what?”

“Not important!” you quickly blurted, pushing past the topic, eyes darting to the spirits floating around you. “But, hey, how about we add a few spooky lights, you know? Like those lanterns with creepy faces carved into them? It’d keep the kids from getting totally lost and still fit your dark aesthetic.”

Skully stared at you for a long moment, his intense eyes seeming to bore into your soul—or maybe into the spirits’ souls. You couldn’t really tell. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temple. “Fine. Some lights. But only the spookiest kind.”

One of the spirits around you cheered silently, and you grinned. “See, compromise works!”

As you helped Skully finalize his Halloween of nightmares, you couldn’t help but think about how strange this dynamic was. You, a soft-hearted (if slightly anxious) spirit-communicator, and Skully, a Halloween-obsessed enigma who idolized Jack Skellington. And yet, somehow, you made the perfect team.

Then came the moment where you had to address the elephant in the room—or rather, the ghosts in the air. As you adjusted some spooky decorations, one of the ghosts began wailing about something from the past. You sighed, turning to Skully with a rare moment of seriousness.

“Skully, can we pause for a second?”

He glanced up from his pile of cobwebs and fake skeletons, raising an eyebrow. “What now? Another ghost’s feelings hurt?”

“No… it’s just…” You bit your lip. “I know I act a little… goofy sometimes. But I do take what I do seriously, you know? Helping these ghosts—it’s important to me.”

For the first time, Skully looked a little taken aback. He slowly straightened up, gazing at you with something close to admiration. “I know. You’re weird, but you’re good at what you do.” He hesitated before giving you a rare, almost tender smile. “Thanks for… you know… always being here.”

You grinned, a warmth spreading in your chest at the compliment. “Hey, someone’s gotta make sure your Halloween doesn’t turn into complete chaos.”

“Chaos is the goal!” Skully insisted, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

And as you two continued working on what was sure to be the weirdest, most ghost-infested Halloween in history, you couldn’t help but feel like—just maybe—this peculiar friendship (and the random ghosts) were exactly where you were meant to be.

Masterlist

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Day 11: Halloween Decorating with the muses - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warning: Not many, a few mentions of alcohol

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Halloween decorating with the muses

Notes: I’m fucking trying here. I tried to make it as GN as possible <3

Jason Voorhees: You would have to take charge of everything, Jason has absolutely no idea how to decorate even a pumpkin. He has fun though, especially seeing you so focused on making your vision come to fruition. When you noticed it was mainly you making the decisions, you try to incorporate his choices. “Green or purple?” You’d ask him which lights would look better wrapped around the frame of the front door. Jason would just have to point and even if you didn’t agree, you made it work.

Michael Myers: Similar to Jason, he wouldn’t have to take the initiative to decorate, instead he’d just stare at the option he’d like the best. It seemed like he leaned more towards red and pumpkins. He would be the best at helping you put the lights up. As you decorate with him throughout the years, you learn that he’s keen on the classic style of Halloween, black and orange, jack-o’-lanterns, all the fixings.

Tiffany Valentine: She would absolutely be the one to set up the place before you would, everything is on the way, sometimes you could even bump heads but since she’s in love, just as you are, she would make both of your ideas work. If you’re a fan of pinkween, she’s definitely on the same page, but pink doesn’t always mean cute, still a fan of blood and guts, it almost looks like a “my bloody Valentine” theme took over.

Billy Loomis: He couldn’t be more in love with you while watching you try to figure out what goes where and what looks best. Billy would be so dazed at times he’d only snap out of it when you scolded him about helping you pin the lights around the window. Of course he would help you, he’d be very involved in the decision making process. Don’t be surprised when he tries to scare you from time to time, making the skeleton prop jump at you or linger its skeletal hand to graze your arm when you’re not looking. Billy is a handful, no pun intended, but he’s always a great time when it comes to time-bearing tasks.

Stu Macher: Similar to Billy, he’s all in, though I would argue Stu is a tad bit more involved in the decision making process, decorating for Halloween is something Stu is 100000% here for. He’s in deep, going to different stores with you, far and near, you almost regret asking him for help. Of course it’s still fun, he makes the best of it, making you laugh with the props around the store, getting food in the process. It’s almost a three day project due to the shopping, the snacking and the actual decorating.

Patrick Bateman: He’s not very big on decorating for the holidays, even if you insist. If it’s in his apartment, keep it to a veeery minimal, unfortunately. Otherwise, as much as it makes you happy, it makes him cringe that his home looks like a Spirit Halloween store. I don’t think he could stand it for long, taking the decorations down the same day. Your place, however, he wouldn’t mind helping, depending on how many decorations and changes you’re making, he honestly may just hire someone to do it for you both.

Leatherface: Bubba is more than happy to decorate anything all the time, he’s such a delight when it comes to holidays. He’s more than willing to be the one who carries all the wreaths and does the heavy lifting. You can be propped up on his shoulder trying to get the lights to sit at the perfect angle and he’s over the moon. Not to mention, all the treats he’d get after being your brave “little” helper.

Harley Quinn: Also a great time when it comes to decorating, her acrobatic skills truly come in handy. Depending on her mood it can take forever, because she gets to horse around or if she comes in with a “let’s get this shit done” attitude, you both will be sipping PSL’s on the edge of the roof swinging your legs back and forth admiring the 12 ft tall skeleton at the top of your apartment complex. “Are you sure the manager said we could sit him on the rooftop?” You’d ask raising an eyebrow as she sipped the last of her latte. “Mhmm” the flashbacks of her pointing a gun to his face briefly made its way to her train of thought.

Poison Ivy: With wine and a charcuterie board, Ivy is more than willing to move some things around. Though her space would be still decked out in green, a little orange never hurt anyone. Orange lights and pumpkins decorated her room, whatever made you happy. Sipping wine and sitting pumpkins around the crevices as you listened to old Halloween music would be a constant for the first week of October.

Billy Hargrove: Billy never really cared for Halloween, his parents would decorate every so often but nothing crazier than that. When he noticed you were a little bummed out when he declined your invitation to decorate. Before you knew it, he showed up to your doorstep with orange flowers and a sweet sorry smile. You wouldn’t admit it, but he made you feel so much better. Just like most of the muses, he just followed whatever you asked him to do. Listening to the scorpions as you draped the spiderwebs across the windows, Billy’s drinking and smoking a cigarette taking you by the waist and spinning you around. He’s not much help, but he sure is a good time.

Steve Harrington: He’d be more than willing to offer his help, mainly because he wants to hang out with you. Though he’s not big on scary movies or themes, he’s more than willing to tough it out some for you. Putting up scary decorations leaves him unsettled and honestly a little nervous, but when he sees your brimming face and feels your arms wrap around his neck in gratitude, he suddenly forgets about the reaper with glowing red eyes pointing right at him. After you’re done setting up the lights, he invites you out to a bite and a scary movie, hopefully he can find more excuses to see you throughout the month outside of work.

Steve Rogers: You never get a complaint from Steve when it comes to helping you set anything up. Halloween is no different, in fact it was Steve who brought the topic up. “Is Y/N not decorating for Halloween this year?” He’d ask almost mockingly as you’d lay upside down on the couch next to him. A playful glare meets his boyish smile. “If only you’d be so lucky” This was Steve’s way of inviting himself to help you. Bonus points if you have a radio he can play classic music to, the night would end with him slow dancing with you to “I don’t want to set the world on fire”

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, but he would wait for you to ask him if he could help you decorate. He’s not much of a decorator himself, especially given the fact that he hasn’t stayed in the same place for longer than a few months. It only gives him more of a reason to want to help you. He’d make little suggestions here and there, brainstorming ways to use most of your decor and make room for new additions. 100000% would bring out the tools if he needed to add a new shelf for your Halloween trinkets or nails to make the inflatables stay put. Just give him a few beers and kisses he’s yours for the whole afternoon to help get the tasks done.

Wanda Maximoff: 100000% would not hesitate to help you decorate, in fact decorating is her favorite thing to do. Halloween is one of the holidays she can be most creative in, so getting her to help you is no issue at all. Her and Tiffany would be the ones out of the list to make trips to the stores for new decorations and inspiration. Wanda would sway a little closer to the “horror” themed Halloween rather than a cutesy one. Her mind is ✨immaculate ✨ and if you posted it on social media, her decor and DIYs would pop off. Lots of spooky crafts and activities to last all month long with her.

Loki Laufeyson: This is a hard one, because he can totally be a brat about it, or he could be the most helpful one. He doesn’t understand the need to decorate, maybe a few things here and there but putting up inflatables, going shopping, it all seems unnecessary. Whatever makes you happy, he’s there for you. Add some nice wine and a few baked good and he’s more than happy to spend the day with you. Loki does acknowledge how the smallest things makes you happy and he thinks it’s cute. “Whatever makes you smile, sweetest.”

Cloud Strife: Doesn’t understand the concept of going all out just as Loki. Throughout time together, he begins to understand the little joy that decorating brings, therefore he never fights you on it. He’s the one doing all the heavy lifting, carrying around the pumpkins, propping up the skeletons. With time, he slowly begins to enjoy it, he will never admit it but you telling him that he’s a great help, heals something in him. After you’re all done setting up the lights and little bats on the porch, you can’t go wrong with snapping a few pictures of cloud with the pumpkins to keep in your journal.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s already taken care of everything, sorry but hallows eve is most elegant in the Phantomhive household. Of course he would allow a few little trinkets wherever they fit, but nowhere near where the guests are expected to be unless he can use it to his advantage when Ciel is talking to a guest. It doesn’t take long for him to start explaining the meaning of the decor and where it came from, all with a slight demeaning smile at “all the silly little details the human race came up with”

Spencer Reid: Similar but different to Sebastian. Spencer is all in for all kinds of decor, but the nostalgic look of the late 50’s to 80’s would have to be his favorite eras so far. Your apartment would have all kinds of trinkets from various cities and random small towns he’d visit, but he always made sure to grab something pertaining to the holiday. Messy to others but completely organized in each others head, the only things you have to set out were the Halloween trinkets and maybe a few orange fairy lights. Whenever Spencer had the time to come home, he’d always make sure you both were able to finish up decorating and carving pumpkins. Halloween being both of your favorite holidays, there is always time for decorating.

Jason Todd: Kind of similar to Spencer, but not too much in the sense that Jason lets you do whatever you want. However Y/N wants the apartment decorated, it’s the only way it’ll be. If you want to go for a pinkoween he’s 100000% there for it. Jason wouldn’t hesitate to take you shopping, yes even if there’s no way that is going to fit in your apartment, he’s going to find a way if his baby really wants it. Like Bucky, he’s got the tools ready, just tell him where and you won’t have to lift a finger unless you really want to.

[wandixx]

Prompt For Dc-x-Dp With M’gann and Danny M’gann didn't expect to be dealing with Random Lazurus Green Portals forming around mars, but since she's Nearby mars she gets to deal with it... and their's An Alien with snow white hair Fighting A Glowing Vampire who's raving about Fathers and mothers?? Danny Is in such a Mood, He's on mars, which is a plus, but He's Fighting Vlad On Another 'Join me! Let me remove Jack from this plain of Reality!' and Honestly The Portals are throwing him off, Just... Bad memories, And Then, becuase of fucking course Something else happened, Vlad Gets Decked in the face and sent flying. "hey, So im going to guess that The Vampire is The Evil one here?" The Green woman asked, while Looking at Danny. While Vlad is growling and about to Throw A Red Ecto-blast at M’gann Danny gets in the way with a shield and responds. "yeah, arch nemisis and all, how are you even out here? or breathing?" M’gann Just Shrugged and said, "Well Home is home and all." Before flying to go Deck the Vampire and all. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ hope this is enough for you to Work some magic and all. and as for some extra stuff you could use, maybe danny has a Space obsesion, and His Protective stuff is Becuase of the Type of spirit he is half of? And maybe An Ice core Could be fun to go with? Ghost prince territory? with danny not wanting to be ghost king just yet. ideas for ya to use.

It's such a cool concept! I didn’t fit Ghost Prince in, but I hope you'll like what I did

*****

Danny was going to strangle Vlad, all subtleties of ghost powers no withstanding. He needed the brutal power that just wasn't fully there even when using more offensive abilities, like ecto-blasts.

He had been having a good day. Okay, maybe not a good day, it's been a long time since he had an actually good one, but a decent day. One, that seemed to start out calm, with all of his typical rogues stuck in Zone recent enough they shouldn't get out today specifically. It was Saturday, so no school, and for once his homework wasn't swallowing him, so he had a bit of time to breathe. And prepare college applications, because his grades got to an appropriate level again and he actually got a shot in academic career. No chance for scholarship like Jazz, but he could go if he played his cards right.

And then, of course, Vlad had to come into his room to harass him again. This time with the added flair of a portal gun he made for some freaking reason.

This time Danny wasn't even trying to piss Vlad off, in the love of Ancients, he tried to ignore the other halfa even when he showed up in his room, raving about removing Jack Fenton from this plane of reality. Craving to deck the guy right then and there was enormous but Jazz was on him about controlling his ✨️displaced aggression✨️ and his anger in general, so he was trying to tune Vlad out. He carefully didn't even think about transforming into Phantom. Especially since both of his parents were safe, a few states away on some ghost hunting convention that Danny managed to skip by the power of ‘I can't take more days off school, sorry I messed up my attendance early in the year’.

Well, they would be, if Vlad, being the obsessed creep he was, didn't try to follow them with a portal gun.

Danny was still willing to ignore it all, because Vlad was a loser and chances that he made something so complicated work properly were only slightly above chances his parents had. And both of them were tripping hazards in hell.

But then Vlad started blasting around his room to egg him on and hit his Curiosity rover model.

Phantom tackled him before the bastard had time to smirk. They phased through the wall, because otherwise Vlad’s back would smash into Lego Saturn V and boy was not looking forward to even more damage. His white gloved hands pressed Plasmius against the cold floor. It looked promising. Over the years he got to a relatively similar level as Vlad with his fighting abilities so getting advantage so early could in theory mean it would be over soon and he would get back to his applications.

He forgot how to breathe for a moment when he was pushed through a portal. Some most instinctual part of him, deep in his core, fell to the mindless panic because He died this way! He died this way, was he able to survive it again?! Without thinking he lashed out, trying to scratch and bite and blast because he needed to get out, he needed to get away but danger was in front of him and he needed to get rid of the danger before he could escape to safety. And Vlad kept teasing him, like he didn't know fully well what portals did to Phantom, to Danny, like he wasn't breaking the most basic rules of the anarchist ghost society.

So Phantom kept trying to punch and kick and scream, trying to get away from green ovals that just kept appearing around them leading to who knows where.

Powerful blast to the chest sent him flying back, through the portal and down to the ground, which at some point became asphalt instead of wheat field. He was too frazzled to even try stopping his fall, just half heartedly tensed waiting for an impact.

It never came, because he was caught by static. Men in red (Flash he'd realize second too late, Flash) send him a concerned smile and asked about something but Plasmius was trying to duplicate, no doubt to overshadow actual hero and it wasn't the way Phantom wanted to be introduced to the Justice League so he jumped forward, sending both halfas through another portal.

It was easier this time, when he expected it but his hands were still shaking when he put them in fists. He could handle it though. He fought in much worse circumstances.

They spawned through a few more portals, almost threw worried looking Superman off the sky and barely not killed some of Aquaman's dolphins before something changed. Phantom didn't realize it at first, too focused on rapid fire from Plasmius and on the constant lookout for new portals, but something changed.

His next blast hit the target and left charcoal black burn and almost fire in its wake. It wasn't something that happened normally. It wasn't something that happened normally unless Danny's obsessions were being served. He wasn't protecting anyone but himself, which didn't fill the protection obsession, so that left…

Space.

Oh.

He was on Mars. Or well, a bit above.

It was mesmerizing. It was breathtaking. It was everything he wished for ever since he learned about other planets in kindergarten.

Sky was a pinkish red color that on Earth meant a beautiful clear sunset but here was just the middle of the day. He didn't see the sun itself, apparently lucky enough to have his back to it. It wouldn't be brighter than at home, obviously, but it was always nice to not be blinded when admiring the view.

The landscape below them seemed familiar. He probably saw it in some photo, but he couldn't remember which one. He couldn't help but try to remember. He wanted to know where was he, what he'd seen, what he'd touched, later when he was in his room, longing to get out here again.

In his almost trance he just about ignored the blast that flew past his ear like an annoying pest.

He had the name of this rock formation on the tip of his tongue! C'mon, brain, you could do it, you could remem-

Even he couldn't ignore the burning pain of the ecto blast straight to the shoulder.

“Listen to me, Little Badger!” Plasmius yelled before dodging ice javelin. Phantom made sure it evaporated before hitting the ground. He was not letting other planet become collateral damage in whatever mess Vlad wanted to stir this time.

He carefully didn't look around when they teleported next time, aware just enough to know they were still on Mars. It wasn't a good moment to sooth his neglected obsession.

Being mad that this was probably the only chance he got out there helped. It definitely reignited the absolute fury, before muted by the panic and then obsession trance.

Phantom wasn't sure what he was yelling back as Plasmius went on and on about killing Danny's dad and marrying his mom and adopting Danny and how ‘look Little Badger, you and I both see how much better off you'd be if you just joined me and let me teach you’. He just knew there was little other than obscenities, and it was paired with an array of blasts and ice and straight up punches when he got close, which was good enough.

Oh, how he wished he could strangle the pathetic vampire lookalike bastard.

Something green and indigo sent Plasmius crashing into the ground.

“Hey, so I'm going to guess that the vampire is The Evil one here?” Feminine voice asked in clear English. Danny took a moment to just stare, blinking rapidly to make sure he saw what he thought he saw.

Yup, that was certainly The Miss Martian, an alien heroine, whose action figure he displayed at the most honorable place of his room. The Miss Martian he tried to learn everything about when she debuted. The Miss Martian whose powers were so similar he used footage from her fights to learn himself. His biggest inspiration.

Dope.

Wait, she asked him a question, didn't she? It was not the time to be a fanboy, probably.

Yeah, no it was definitely not a time to be a fanboy, he decided, right when he threw a shield in front of her, because Vlad didn't take kindly to being interrupted. It really was the least he deserved.

“Yeah, arch nemesis and all that. If I may ask, what are you doing here, Miss Martian, ma'am? I thought you lived full time on Earth?”

“Well, home is home and all” she just said wistfully and telepathically threw a rock to Vlad's stomach, making it follow until it hit the mark, right before another stone hit him in the unprotected back.

And here Danny thought he got over his celebrity crush back when he was sixteen.

Good thing though, another person in the fight made his protection obsession rear back to life, the fact that she was an alien only helping as his space side zeroed on her too. It was useful to not get distracted by glimpses of the world around them.

Of course Vlad just duplicated to make the chances ‘equal’ once again, so the fight dragged on.

Miss Martian just kept being graceful like a supernova, beautiful and destructive.

Danny hoped he didn’t look as embarrassingly pathetic as he thought he did. What were the chances she didn’t see when he took the blast to the arm because he got distracted by pretty rocks?

Plasmius kept taunting, calling him Daniel because of course secret identities or prefered names don't matter when you have to harass the teenager.

Phantom decked him extra hard for that.

At least he didn’t try to use his portal gun again, too busy with fighting off both of them.

Kick, dodge blast, ice, shield for Miss Martian, ice because how dare he attack an alien, dodge, intangibility.

Was it or was it not a good idea to use Ghost Wail and be done with that.

“I've got an idea, cover for me for a minute, okay?”

“Sure” Did he sound too eager? He wanted to keep it cool at least outwardly, not mess up his first and perhaps last impression.

Wait, shit, Martians can read minds! Miss Martian probably already knows how big of a mess he was.

Shit, shit, shit.

Phantom dutifully shielded heroine as she levitated with her eyes closed, at the same time keeping constant assault on Vlad. It was getting exhausting. At least he could go home fast when the fight ended.

“Do you want me to make him indefinitely indisposed or is it too much for you?” Miss Martian suddenly asked. Danny froze for almost a minute before he choked out.

“What do you mean?”

“I can rip his mind apart, leave his body alive but useless without any thought to lead it, but I know some people find it uncomfortable even when it happens to villains”

For a moment, in the midst of fanboying, he forgot how terrifying set of powers she had.

“Please don't” After all, ghosts are their minds, and despite how despicable things Vlad did, no one deserved fate of completely not existing.

“Alright. Is enhancing his experience of pain okay with your moral code?”

“Yeah, I think”

“Done,” she said with a smile, and despite how terrifying he was of her just a few seconds ago, he had to admit, this smile was gorgeous.

After that, it took, like, three punches before Vlad bailed. Which was good.

What was less good, was the fact that the portal he used to escape closed before Danny could go through it. He just stared for a long moment, blinking quickly. He wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. Both was good.

“So, Daniel…?”

Danny winced and looked back at Miss Martian.

“Danny. Or Phantom. Nobody calls me Daniel”

She nodded with a friendly smile. Good thing they were flying, because his knees got weak for a hot second.

“Alright. I'm M’gann”

“Should you tell me this?”

“I know your name,” she shrugged. “It's only fair that you know mine. It's not a name I use on Earth anyway”

“Um, sure, okay. It's nice to meet you M’gann” Was this too stiff? He had no idea how he was supposed to interact with heroes who just shared their identity. For no reason too, because c'mon, she didn't know him. Why would she do it?!

“Are you from Earth? You speak English”

“Yeah, USA, Illinois. That bastard teleported us around and of course left me stranded”

“It's your lucky day then, I was about to head back, I can take you with me”

There was no universe in which he wouldn’t agree.

[yuri-is-online]

Right there's still time, everyone drop your crack theories about what the next Halloween will be:

Nightmare Before Christmas (potentially confirming the existence of Sandy Claws, next year's SSR is anime Jack Skellington)

Peter Pan (we get a bunch of fae fucking shit up in a way not remotely mirroring the current plot, next year's SSR is either captain hook or Peter pan) I sort of like this idea because Hook is a children's book character in the twst universe so we could use the same/a similar set up as Lost in the Book with Stitch. Also the last two Halloween events have borrowed designs from the Disney Japan Villian recruiters. We're missing Hook so that makes a lot of sense to me.

The Great Mouse Detective (crack pure crack but I love Sherlock Holmes so much please please please gimme this in twst please thank you so much)

Princess and the Frog (Sam SSR to round out the staff, would just be plain fun and maybe explain some stuff about how spirits work in twst.)

I'm sure there's maybe some more but these are the ones I could think of as being most appropriately themed.

[hugheses]

I think there was a bit before this but this is most of it.

Transcript below cut

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, I think both of our older brothers played together growing up, so I think somewhere along the way we met. But I think I played a tournament in Toronto with the Bulldogs, with Jack, and that was kind of the first time I was like, I think I'm a pretty bad hockey player. But, I mean, the whole family's great.

They love the game, they're so passionate about it, but obviously from any age you knew Jack was going to be something special.

[Amanda]

What was it about the way he played from that young age that you could see that? Because you're not such a bad player yourself, too, you know?

[Cole]

I mean, just the way he skated. He could always handle the puck well, move the puck well, but I think it's just like the skating talent, everybody at that age could kind of move around, but he was like, probably skated the same way he does now, just a little bit slower back then. You know, he's very special, and it's cool to see how far he's come, but for sure always special to watch.

[Amanda]

And I know that you guys speak to each other, you're still really good buddies, right? So tell me what the Hughes brothers are like when they're up at their cottage. I've heard the stories, the boat, the house, all that.

What's it like when you guys get away together, away from this game?

[Cole]

I mean, it's pretty much anything that we can play a game at. I mean, I just moved five minutes away from their place, so it's even worse than it was. I mean, they're just chill guys.

I mean, they like to compete or whatever, but surprisingly really good cooks and guys that take care of themselves. Obviously, it's always fun being on the boat and kind of messing around, but I think at the end of the day, everybody's just looking out for each other and having a good time. But summertime is fun for sure.

[Amanda]

They are very competitive, as I'm sure you are as well. So what brings out the most competitive spirit? Is it pool?

Is it something, you know, water ski- What is it that brings out that summer competitive spirit the most that gets a little heated?

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, obviously that pool table's gotten the most use I've ever seen out of something. It's a chalkboard with so many names about how many wins they have. It's either that, ping pong.

Otherwise, we're on the boat. But some nights can get a little bit more fun than that. But again, everything's just out of fun.

I think we've got a good group of guys over there, and everybody just likes hanging out with each other.

[Amanda]

And what's Luke like away from the arena? I mean, he's got a real competitive drive too, and I've heard that he is the best at pool. He's shaking his head, by the way, for people who can't see.

Cole is shaking his head. Is he actually the best at pool?

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, he's tough to beat. I think everybody's chasing him. I mean, I think he's got his own pool stick.

I don't want to confirm that, but I want to say everybody's chasing him down. If you don't know that, he'll probably tell you. No questions asked.

He's also a guy who never stops eating.

[Amanda]

You know his nickname is Rusty, right? Do we know where that originates? I mean, obviously I know it's from Ocean's Eleven and Brad Pitt's character, Rusty, who in every scene he's always snacking on something or whatever, but it's kind of crazy.

[Cole]

I think he's going to fill himself out pretty well moving forward here.

[Amanda]

And then just as friends, what do you enjoy most about competing against them?

[Cole]

I mean, honestly, they're really special at what they do. They love what they do. It's pretty cool to be able to get to train with them and kind of compete against the best, and that's kind of what you want.

So to be around them, golf with them, do whatever, it's definitely good to just stay competitive in the offseason, but also have guys like that you can lean on and talk to throughout the year.

[Amanda]

All right, we'll do this quickly. Out of the three of you, we'll leave Quinn out of this because he's not involved here. So out of the three of you, who is the best wakeboarder?

[Cole]

Jack.

[Amanda]

Who drives the boat the best?

[Cole]

Probably Jack, too. Luke's pretty good, but I think everybody's more comfortable when he's not behind the wheel. Do you have your boating license? Are you able to?

I've driven their boat a couple times, yeah. I've got to get one for myself, but I probably trust myself more than Luke.

[Amanda]

Best baseball player, if you play?

[Cole]

Me, 100%.

[Amanda]

You?

[Cole]

Yeah, we used to play in high school. I know they all played growing up, but for sure me. We'll have to settle that this summer in a batting cage or something.

[Amanda]

Do you guys play basketball at all together?

[Cole]

Oh, yeah, we used to play two-on-two, one-on-one. If a guy gets out of hand, I think me and Alex Turcotte won a two-v-two this summer. We beat Luke, which is surprising.

Getting him down low, it's tough to defend, but you can get him moving on the outside. You can't keep up. He for sure got his fair share of points on me down low, which is not fun.

[Amanda]

Two-on-two, who is Luke? Is it Luke and Jack? Is it Luke and Quinn?

[Cole]

I don't know who he was with. I mean, we have a huge group, like Larkin, Norris. Glendening, too.

We had a bunch of guys that were just like dogs in a paint. It was crazy. Me and Turcs won, and I was like, there's no way we just did that.

We needed to be on the shelf for two weeks afterwards. That was probably the most sweat I've ever had today, for sure.

[Amanda]

Lastly, Ellen has told me this story, how when they were growing up, that Ellen and Jim used to tell Quinn and Jack, please just try and pass the puck to Luke once in a while. Let the guy do it once in a while. I know you're laughing there.

What does that tell you about these brothers, that family? Does that not check out when it comes to Luke and the boys?

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, obviously, being the younger brother, I'm a younger brother, too. That's just how it is. But now I think everybody's old enough that it's kind of getting out of the question a little bit.

But he for sure is always the last one for stuff. I feel like I always hear Ellen kind of tell him, just get Luke in on something. Get Luke involved a little bit more.

But Luke's great, a really good human being, to be honest with you. Definitely needs a little bit more respect, I think. And I'll give it to him this summer, for sure.

But I think he's being able to move into the house this year. Now that he's played a couple more games, so that's huge.

[Amanda]

Thanks, Cole. Really appreciate it.

[five-rivers]

One day Danny comes home to his parents having tea with clockwork

I rather liked this. Here's the AO3, and I might continue it later.

.

Oh, of course Clockwork didn't look like Clockwork. That is, he looked like himself, or else Danny wouldn't have recognized him, but he didn't look like a ghost, or else Danny was sure the scene wouldn't be nearly as peaceful - or unbelievable - as it was.

He blinked a few times. Hard. The scene didn't change. Clockwork - or Clockwork's human twin - was sitting at the kitchen table with Danny's parents. Sipping tea.

Danny hadn't even known they had tea in the house.

As Danny stared, Clockwork met Danny's eyes and winked. Neither Maddie nor Jack, who was enthusiastically describing their latest ghost capturing invention (something to do with a modified leaf blower), noticed. So. Clockwork. Not Clockwork's twin.

What was happening? What was happening right now? Why was Clockwork here? Had Danny screwed over the timeline somehow? And if he had, why wasn't Clockwork just grabbing future versions of Danny's enemies to assassinate him again? Why was he talking to Danny's parents? In a human disguise of all things?

Thinking about it made Danny's palms itch and his heart speed up, and he wasn't the best at being subtle when he was anxious.

"Uh, hi," he said, loudly, putting on just a touch of teenage lackadaisical spin, "who are you?"

"Oh, Danny!" said Maddie. "You're home early."

Danny winced. He got detention often enough that his parents usually didn't expect Danny home for another hour. The ghost fighting didn't help, either. Of course, the ghost fighting was why he got so many detentions. That and stuffing Dash's locker full of FentonWipe. And being associated with Sam. He had to admit that was also a significant contributor to his detention time.

What had he been thinking of again?

Rather, what had he been avoiding thinking of again?

Right. Clockwork. His parents. Tea. His future doom. The potential end of the world, as initiated by him, personally.

“Uh, yeah,” said Danny.  “I guess I am.  But…” He tried to gesture at Clockwork without pointing, which was rude enough that Maddie would comment.  

“I was just describing our new Fenton Blow design to our new neighbor, Clark!  Two new things at once!  It’s like it’s double new!”  Jack jumped up and picked up Clockwork’s chair so he could turn it to face Danny.  Clockwork continued to calmly hold his tea throughout the motion.  

“Neighbor?” squeaked Danny.  

Something that had been constant at FentonWorks for as long as Danny could remember was that it didn’t have neighbors.  The properties adjacent to FentonWorks weren’t empty, exactly, but people didn’t live there.  One was a vacation rental that saw the most traffic during Halloween.  The building on the other side was a community store where people in the area sold things they’d made.  And the back lot was split between a haunted house attraction and a rare permanent Spirit Halloween store.  

FentonWorks was maybe a bit of a tourist destination.  But it wasn’t as if normal, sane people would live anywhere near FentonWorks.  

Clockwork was neither normal nor sane.  Obviously.  Still, even he had to hesitate at being next to Danny’s parents.  

What property had he bought, anyway?  It wasn’t like there were a lot of options.  

Danny would not be able to cope if he’d bought the haunted house.  

Why was he here?

“Yes,” said Maddie, “he bought the place behind us.  The costume store.  We were talking about how he could make the costumes more accurate.”

Clockwork cleared his throat.  “Assuming that I will continue to manage the franchise is somewhat premature, but your work is truly fascinating.”

Maddie smiled.  “Oh, you’re a charmer.”

Jack laughed as well.  “Almost as smooth as Vladdie used to be, huh?”  He patted Clockwork on the shoulder.  “Good times, good times!  We’re going to have a lot of fun!”

Oh god, were they flirting?  Danny was glad he didn’t have a much of a gag reflex since half-dying.  

“If you aren’t going to be running the Spirit store, what are you going to do?”

“Previously, I owned and managed an antique store.  Worthy Antiques.”  A small smile playing around his lips, he took another sip of tea.  

“From his name!” said Jack.  “Clark Worth!  Isn’t that clever?”

Danny knew he didn’t have any room to talk about pseudonyms, but that was… Wow.  That was blatant.  Of course, the whole thing was blatant.  Still.  

“Sell many clocks?” Danny asked, because he was an idiot and had some sort of death wish.  

“A few,” said Clockwork.  “People do seem to like antique clocks.”  

“Why move to Amity Park?” asked Danny, taking a few steps over to the table so he could stand between Clockwork and his parents.  Was the gesture futile?  Yep.  Was he doing it anyway?  Yep.  

“Issues with the local government.  You seem to have it handled quite nicely here.”

“That’s true!” said Jack.  “We’ve got the government in the bag down here!”

“Yes, we’ll have to show you what they did when they hit us with zoning complaints of all things,” said Maddie.  

Danny was not hearing this.  He wasn’t here.  This was some kind of impossible fugue state.  Or a hallucination.  Or a dream.  It could be Nocturne.  It wasn’t like he was above using people’s fears, conscious or otherwise, to mess with them.  

But, if he could put his parents being weird aside (a task difficult bordering on impossible), then what did Clockwork mean by local government?  Walker?  Pariah Dark?  Could Danny even take Clockwork’s words as an analogy?  He could just lie.  It wasn’t as if ghosts were bound to be honest.  

“It is time for me to go now, unfortunately.  Thank you for the company and the excellent tea.”

“No problem!” said Jack.  “We didn’t even know we had it!”

“Feel free to drop by any time, it was lovely to have you over,” said Maddie, reaching over to Clockwork’s hands.  

“That’s very gracious of you.  Allow me to extend the same invitation to you and your family,” said Clockwork.  He stood up, raising the empty teacup towards Danny in a sort of toast before putting it back down.  “It was wonderful to meet you as well, Daniel.”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  Then, grudgingly, “You, too.  I can show you out.”

“No need,” said Clockwork.  “I know the way.”  He gave them all a short, shallow bow, then left.  

Danny looked at his parents. 

“Wow!  What a great guy!” said Jack, planting his hands on his hips.  “Hope his business works out!”

“Twenty percent of new businesses fail in the first two years,” said Maddie.  

“But he’s got experience,” argued Jack.  “And, who knows, maybe we’ll be customers!  Lots of haunted antiques out there, huh?”

“Yes… I wonder… Could we modify the Fenton Finder to determine what kinds of objects are most likely to be haunted…”

Before Danny could get sucked into whatever antique-related discussion his parents were about to have, he slipped away up the stairs.  He needed backup for this.  Lots of backup.  

.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam over the phone.  “Who?”

“Clockwork,” said Danny.  “You know, the one who sent us into the messed up future where I was evil and you were dead.”

“His name was Clockwork?”

“Yeah?  Did you–  Did you not know that?”

“I’ve got him down in my book as Clockstopper,” added Jazz, helpfully.  

“Isn’t that, like, a movie?” asked Tucker, fiddling with his PDA.  “With a kid who can stop time?”

“It’s the watch that can stop time,” said Danny, distractedly.  “Did I not tell you his name?  I’m sure I told you his name.”

“Didn’t we lose half a day of time in there where we all died again?” asked Tucker.  “I remember something about that.”

How did Danny tell them about that and not Clockwork’s name?  Seriously.  He had to get his priorities right.  And figure out how not to break down and spill potentially traumatizing information whenever Sam and Tucker prodded him even a little.  

(Was it a response to keeping a million secrets from everyone else?  Probably.  But lying had been invented for a reason.  A million reasons.  And one of them was not traumatizing your friends.)

He rubbed his face.  “Okay, so, the guy’s name is Clockwork.  Clockwork.  Not Clockstopper.  He’s the Master of Time.  He actually helped me once, when Vlad gave you two ecto-acne.  Well.”  His expression pinched inward.  “Sort of.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of?’” asked Sam, leaning forward.  

“He, uh.  Kind of unpersoned me.  Or let me unperson myself.  I’m… Yeah.  Okay.  More the second one.  But he sent me off to do it.  I’m actually not clear on how he undid it…  What?”

“You know,” said Tucker, who was now looking up from his PDA, “I didn’t really question it when you brought back the cure at the time, but I really should have, huh…”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to run through how you got unpersoned,” said Sam.  

“What do you even mean by unpersoned?” said Jazz, concerned.  “Like in 1984?”

“Uh,” said Danny.  “I never read that.  Does it involve time travel?”

“Danny…”

“He’s dodging the question,” said Tucker.  “What did you do, Danny?”

Danny squirmed.  “We’re talking about why he’s here.”

“A conversation that would be much improved by telling us about your past interactions with him,” said Jazz.  She had produced a pen and notebook from somewhere.  

“I barely interacted with him that time.  We were only in the same room for, like, ten minutes, total.  The part where I was the subject of a ‘would you murder baby Hitler’ question is much more relevant.”

“Actually, why didn’t Clockwork murder baby Hitler?” said Sam, somewhat indignant.  “Actual baby Hitler.  Not Danny.”

“He didn’t kill me, anyway, and future me wrecked the entire planet, as far as I could–”

“Wait, wait,” said Jazz.  “I’m still writing this down.”

“You don’t need to write this down.”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing it in code.  Basically unbreakable.  Just a minute…”  She licked her lips, then, slowly, sounding out the words, she said, “Time… master…”

“Clockwork.  His name is Clockwork.  Why are you like this?”

“I think it’s just how siblings are,” said Sam.  

“You’re an only child,” Tucker pointed out.  “What would you know?”

“I’ve watched my cousins.  It’s basically the same.”

“That’s completely different,” said Tucker.  

“Okay, okay,” said Danny.  “I thought that maybe if Vlad had never become a half ghost, then he’d never have gotten ecto-acne, and he wouldn’t have wanted to give you guys ecto-acne.  Or have even been able to.  So I asked Clockwork to send me back to his accident and pushed him out of the way.”

“And then the butterfly effect meant that you were never born?” asked Sam.  “Actually, no one born after that would have been the same as the people who were born after it in this world…  Would they?”

Danny shrugged.  “I didn’t really look into that, to be honest.  I was kind of distracted by, uh.  Dad having gotten hit instead.  I didn’t really realize…  Mom and Dad were like right behind him.”

Jazz looked up at him in horror.  

“It didn’t actually happen,” said Danny.  “Or, uh, it hasn’t’ve happened now?”  What tense what he even supposed to use here?

“No, no, it isn’t that,” said Jazz.  “It’s just that they had no lab safety even in college.  It’s a miracle they’re still alive.  But does that mean Dad was a half ghost?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did Mom take that?”

“Not sure, actually.  They were kind of.  Not married.”  He waited for Jazz to flip out.  She’d freaked badly enough when it just looked like they might get a divorce.

Instead, she just nodded.  “That makes sense,” she said.  

“It does?” 

“Yeah, Dad’s socially awkward enough to begin with.  If he was isolated the same way Vlad was when he was sick, there’s no way he’d be able to keep up a relationship.  I don’t think they were even dating at that point.”

“Right, well, anyway, after I figured that out, I knew I had to undo it.  A bunch of stuff happened, but I eventually got back to Clockwork and he reset it.  So that’s it.  Whole story.  Can we get back on topic?”

“Pretty sure you're lying, but whatever,” said Sam.  “But what do you expect us to do in this situation?  It kind of feels like he could just wave his hands and… poof.”

“Yeah, he was definitely not trying in that fight,” added Tucker.  

Way to be supportive, guys.  Jeez.  “I'm not going to fight him.”

“Good, if you were, I'd be asking Jazz to check you for a concussion.”

“I just want to know what he wants.  Like, if he's here because I've screwed up the timeline again or what.  But the guy talks in riddles - not literal riddles.”  Danny just knew Jazz would start calling him Riddle Master or something if Danny didn't clear that up fast.  “But he doesn't give straight answers.”

“At least we know he's not homophobic.”

“Tucker, that joke was only funny the first ten times.”

“It's always funny.”

Sam cleared her throat.  “And is that something we can do something about?”

“Yeah.  Sort of, anyway.  It's just… I know what my life is like.  I know what I’m like.  If I go talk to him alone, I’ll miss something or say something stupid.  But you guys actually pay attention to stuff.  You think about things.  I need you to come with me so I don’t say something sarcastic and wind up on a cross-time road trip to learn about the importance of customer service.”

“If we could stop you from saying dumb things, you’d have a lot less detentions,” said Sam.  

“So you’re going to abandon me?  Your best friend?  To a ghost who’s beaten him up before?”

Sam rolled her eyes.  “Don’t be so dramatic.  I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you.  I’m just pointing out that you’ll have to put in a little effort if you want us to be your time ghost lawyers or interpreters or whatever.”

“I will!  That’s why I want you to come with me.”

“Well, I’ll come with you, at least,” said Jazz.  “I want to know more about this Clockstopper.”

Danny squinted at him.  “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I’ll come with you, too,” said Tucker.  “But if we wind up on a customer service road trip, I will be blaming you.”

“Well, yeah,” said Danny.  “That’s a given.”

“I can’t go tonight,” said Sam.  “Family dinner.  Tomorrow?  Right after Danny gets out of detention?”

“You don’t know I’ll have detention tomorrow.  I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” said Sam.  

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Oh myyy Scully’s nothing like how I thought he would be, man’s such a charmer 😳 It’s been so fun seeing people draw and write about how their OCs would react to his forwardness so I wanted to ask how you think your own OC would react to him? :>

[Referencing this post!]

I KNOW, RIGHT 💀 He speaks in such a formal way, it’s surprising??? Like he uses -san even for the first year students and other really old fancy verbage… And he’s very friendly (?) right off the bat??? (In my culture, such a thing is unheard of…) Kissing strangers, calling them “my dear”, daydreaming about hand holding??????? IS HE OKAY 😭 cbjdbwosuxosm At the same time, I’m very pleased with how whimsical Skully is, I think he captures the romantic (idealized reality kind of romantic, not love romantic) spirit of Jack Skellington very well.

I think if Miss Raven were to meet Skully (assuming the same manner that Yuu met him), she would at first think she’s dreaming since he speaks and acts similar to those gallant, dashing kind of guys she sometimes pens. What would really set her panicking is the kiss to the back of the hand. That sensation feels very real and is something she fantasizes about thinks of as really embarrassing. Once Miss Raven gets over the initial shock and adjusts to Skully’s eccentric personality, I think they’d actually get along really well! He’s such a dork for Halloween and she’s super into hearing new stories. I’m sure Miss Raven could sit and listen to Skully mouth off about Jack Skellington for hours 😌 Then they can fangirl together—

And then dhjsbsksjso L*ona gets annoyed with her for so easily being taken in by a newcomer… “How gullible can you be, Canary? Is a smiling face and a few sweet words all it takes to get you to wag your tail?” J word stands in the back watching this all go down (hey, free entertainment for him) while egging L*ona on... “Now, now, Leona-san, it’s not our place to interfere with the beginnings of new friendships. Perhaps she simply finds Skully-san’s company more pleasant than ours.

To remark on the other SSRs because I feel like it, Sebek angrily tells them to stop dawdling over nothing of real importance, how dare they waste WAKA-SAMA’s precious time when they should be investigating how to get home! (He actively tries to be a physical barrier between Miss Raven and Skully, who are both giggling about Jack or something.) Jamil has his hands to his temples, knowing that this will be another massive headache to navigate around (but still tries to mediate anyway). His suffering is truly never-ending…

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 22 - Had But Our Loving Prospered Well

Summary: As Dutch readies the gang for their next big score, Arthur is sent to Saint Denis to settle unfinished business, only to face a ghost from his past. Meanwhile, Kate's come down with an illness, but a vivid dream sparks a newfound resolve to secure her and Arthur's future—no matter the cost.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

AN: About 10k words. I really enjoyed how this one turned out. I think it does a good job at setting up what's coming next while also keeping you on your toes. Guess you'll have to read and see ;)

And Happy Thanksgiving to all those who celebrate! I am so thankful for all my readers <3

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw  @yallgotkik

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Been a while since I put pen to paper. Feels like there ain’t enough time in the day anymore, though Lord knows I’ve been wasting plenty of it trying to keep my head above water. We’ve moved again. Ran from the law again. Stirred up more trouble. Same damn story, just a different setting. This time it’s Saint Denis—a place I heard was one of the seven wonders of the world. Well, if this is what they call a wonder, I reckon I’d be just fine never seeing the other six. It’s crowded, loud, and full of people who’d stab you in the back soon as they look at you. One of those people bein’ Angelo Bronte. Slimy, conniving bastard who’s got this whole city dancing to his tune.

He’s the same one who took Jack from us, but somehow, he’s also got us rubbing elbows with the mayor at some swanky garden party. Don’t ask me how that makes sense. Dutch’s idea, of course. Or maybe Hosea’s, hell if I know anymore. What I do know is he insisted Kate come along, dressed us all up like damn peacocks. I felt ridiculous, but then I looked at her. My Kate. She took my breath clean away. Lord help me, there’s nothing in this life I wouldn’t do for that woman.

The party itself? A circus. Drunks, phonies, and clowns as far as the eye could see. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some fun. Hell, I think Kate might’ve even enjoyed herself. It’s a memory I’ll carry with me, no matter how all this shakes out.

Still, this place ain’t sittin’ right with me. Dutch and Hosea keep goin’ on about opportunities, but I don’t see much besides folks with too much money and too little care for anything else. I better keep my head down while I can.

I introduced myself to a couple of Indians, father and son. The son is so angry and the father is; I don’t know exactly what. Something both impressive and frightening. And kind too. He’s a great man being defeated by powerful, awful forces. I don’t know why, but I agreed to help them. Seems they, like us, have a problem with that ape Leviticus Cornwall. 

And then there's Dutch, always in the middle of it all. He’s pushin’ Kate into things I’m not sure she should be a part of. Keeps talkin’ about loyalty, like I ain’t proven mine a thousand times over. Says Kate could help with this new scheme coming up—some high-stakes poker game on a damn yacht in the harbor. Wants to dress her up like some famous singer to get us in. The idea makes my skin crawl. She’s too good for this kind of life, and Dutch knows it.

I’ve been trying to keep her close, tellin’ her to stick to camp, help with the girls. But she ain’t the type to sit still. She’s got this fire in her, this restless spirit that makes her want to be out there with me, shoulderin’ the same burdens. And I love her for it, but it scares the hell outta me too. This gang is a powder keg, and when it blows, she’s gonna get caught in the blast.

John said something the other day that stuck with me—never thought I’d be takin’ advice from him, yet here we are. He told me I gotta start thinking about what happens after all this. If there’s even gonna be an "after." I don’t know what that looks like, but I know Kate deserves better than this life. Problem is, I ain’t sure I can give it to her. Not yet. Not while there’s still so much to fix, so much to make right.

I guess we’ll see what the day brings. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur closed his journal with a soft thunk, the familiar leather creaking as he slid it back into his satchel. Stretching, he winced as his muscles protested—stiff from too many sleepless nights and too many hours in the saddle. Dawn was just beginning to break, but Arthur had been awake long before the first hints of sunlight painted the horizon. Not that it mattered much. These days, the weeks were a blur, the days bleeding into each other with each task, each job, and every damn mission Dutch insisted on. No end in sight, just more running, more scheming.

He sat on an old, weather-worn chair perched at the front of Shady Belle, the crumbling manor they called home. Its once-grand façade was faded and cracked, much like the gang itself—held together by little more than stubbornness and dwindling hope. The morning fog clung low to the ground, curling around the gnarled tree roots and the broken fence posts, giving the place an eerie stillness.

It was mid-September now—Arthur only remembered because Sean’s birthday had passed a few days back. Some of the gang had stayed up late, passing a bottle around the campfire, trading stories about the fiery Irishman. Arthur had stayed longer than most, his heart heavy with memories of laughter now silenced by a bullet.

The chill of fall was creeping in, carried by the night and lingering in the shadows, though the sun would soon burn it away. Arthur inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling his lungs, chasing away the stale dampness of the manor. For a fleeting moment, it felt good—clean. He let himself savor it, knowing the day ahead would likely choke him with its demands.

Dutch had a plan, as always. This time, a high-stakes card game aboard a river boat in the Saint Denis harbor. Every detail had to be perfect. No mistakes. No run-ins with the law. Not this time. That meant a shopping trip to the city with Trelawny, of all people, to gather supplies and scout the area. Dutch wanted every angle covered, every loose end tied tight.

And then there was Kate. Dutch had insisted she play a role in the job, her part pivotal to getting them through the door. Her cover? A famous Italian singer, the kind who’d catch the eye of the city's most elite. Arthur had protested—loudly. But Dutch was unyielding, Hosea backing him up with reassurances that it’d be fine, just like the mayor’s party. Arthur didn’t care much for that; polished shoes, fake smiles, and too many lies—but Kate had taken it all in stride, and she was confident she could do it again.

Arthur wasn’t so sure. He didn’t like the idea of her standing in the middle of it all, surrounded by strangers who wouldn’t think twice about exploiting her if things went wrong. But she was stubborn, determined to help the gang any way she could. Arthur had no choice but to pray he could change her mind in the next two days. If he couldn’t, he’d be right there beside her. No way in hell would he let her face it alone.

Lately, though, his worries stretched far beyond jobs and plans. He’d noticed the signs—Kate sleeping more, eating less, missing chores because of her headaches. The girls had told him as much, and Arthur knew the cause. Shady Belle was no place for someone like her. Sure, it had walls and a roof, but they were cracked and rotting, letting the rain and wind slip through. Mold crept up the corners, and the damp chill seeped into your bones at night. Arthur did what he could—pulling her close when the nights grew too cold, letting his body heat shield her from the worst of it. But it wasn’t enough. It ate at him, watching her put on a brave face, pretending she wasn’t struggling just to keep his worry at bay.

But he always worried. Now, with Dutch’s plan looming and Kate’s involvement hanging in the balance, the concern gnawed at him, heavy and relentless, like a stone pressing against his chest. He sighed, shifting his weight in the creaky old chair, debating whether to head back inside and kiss his woman goodbye before the day’s chaos swept him away.

Before he could move, the door creaked open, and Mary-Beth stepped out onto the porch. The young woman was wrapped in a heavy wool coat, her night chemise peeking out from underneath, and she held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a white envelope pinched between her fingers. Her other hand clutched her coat tightly against the morning chill.

“Mornin’, Arthur,” she greeted softly, her voice warm and familiar. “Figured I might find you out here.”

Arthur smiled, tipping his head in acknowledgment. “A fine mornin’ it is, Miss Mary-Beth.”

She handed him the coffee, and he accepted it with a grateful nod. The warmth seeped through his fingers, chasing away the lingering chill. If there was one thing about running all these damn jobs, it was the way the girls showed their appreciation in small but meaningful ways. It reminded Arthur why he kept going—why he fought so hard. Not just for himself, but for them, too.

Mary-Beth lingered as Arthur took a tentative sip of the bitter black coffee. Then, almost hesitantly, she extended the envelope toward him. “Letter came for you,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of something else—curiosity, maybe. “I think it’s from that woman.” The last two words carried a subtle edge.

Arthur chortled, raising an eyebrow as he took the envelope. “That woman, huh? You mean Mary Gillis?” He turned the letter over in his hands, the elegant script on the front unmistakable.

Mary-Beth pursed her lips. “Gillis? Thought you said she was married to some Linton fellow?”

Arthur sighed, suddenly feeling like he’d been cornered. “She um— well she was. Barry Linton. But he passed not too long ago.” His fingers found the edge of the envelope, ripping it open as he spoke.

Mary-Beth folded her arms, her gaze sharpening with interest. “Then tell me, Mr. Morgan, what’s this widow doing still writin’ to you?”

He huffed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, darlin’. That’s what I’m fixin’ to find out.” He unfolded the letter, but he could feel her eyes lingering.

“You best get along before Miss Grimshaw catches wind you’re up,” he added pointedly, trying to nudge her away without sounding outright rude.

Mary-Beth narrowed her eyes at him, clearly unimpressed by his attempt to dismiss her, but after a moment, she relented, turning back toward the door. “Alright, fine. But I’ll be keepin’ my eye on you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He chuckled under his breath as she disappeared into the manor, shaking his head at her audacity. Then, finally, he let his gaze fall to the letter in his hand, the words waiting for him like the clouds on the horizon:

My dear Arthur,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to thank you for your help with Jamie. He and Daddy are still arguing, but I understand that Jamie is thinking of going back to college. Whatever happens, I believe you saved his life, and we are all truly grateful.

Oh, Arthur. I have made such a mess of my life, time and again. Why can I not change and be the woman I want to be? Why couldn’t you change and be a man and put down all those fantasies that cloud your judgment? Life is very confusing, and I see now that I am not very good at it.

I am afraid we have got ourselves in another mess. It’s not my fault, but I need your help. I’m staying at the Hotel Grand in Saint Denis. Oh, Arthur. I know it is wrong of me to ask you, but I have nobody else, and for what we had together, I beg of you, even though I am ashamed to do so.

Yours,Mary

Arthur sighed heavily, folding the letter with a deliberate care that belied the storm brewing inside him. He slid it into his satchel, the weight of it feeling heavier than any of the supplies or ammunition he carried. His jaw tightened as his gaze drifted out over the misty swamps, the sluggish waters reflecting a pale, muted sunrise. Mary Gillis. Always finding a way to haunt him, always pulling at the loose threads of a life he’d tried to leave behind.

The first time she’d called for his help, he’d nearly ignored her altogether. He’d wrestled with the question, torn between letting old flames die and doing what he thought might be the decent thing. It was Kate who’d convinced him in the end, her soft-spoken wisdom guiding him to answer the plea. "Helping others isn’t a weakness," she’d said, resting her hand on his, heart full of understanding. And so he’d gone. He’d helped Mary with her brother, with her troubles, and with it, he thought he’d finally put the past to rest.

But that was months ago. Months filled with battles, with losses, with a love that had rooted itself firmly in his chest and refused to let go. His heart belonged to Kate now, the woman who lay sleeping just upstairs, wrapped in the meager warmth of their shared cot. Whatever dreams Mary might still cling to, whatever fantasy she still entertained of what they once were, Arthur knew better. She’d signed the letter “yours,” but the truth was she had never truly been his.

They’d been just a couple of lovesick kids, foolish and reckless, trying to carve out a life in a world that seemed determined to keep them apart. Her father had despised him, calling him poor, unworthy, a scoundrel who’d ruin her. Maybe the old bastard had been right, in his own way. Mary, for her part, had always wanted him to change—begged him to leave his ways behind, to live a cleaner, safer life that had no place for a man like him.

He’d tried, God knows he’d tried, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. Her rejection of his proposal had shattered whatever hope they’d built together, and they’d gone their separate ways, two hearts too stubborn to meet in the middle. At the time, Arthur had been furious, heartbroken. But with the years came clarity. She’d done the right thing by walking away, as much as it had gutted him. He’d have ruined her, and she’d have resented him for it.

Now, though, her reaching out again felt like opening an old wound that had barely scarred over. She must’ve been desperate to dredge up the past and call on him once more. Still, Arthur had made her a promise all those years ago—a promise to be there if she ever truly needed him. And damn it all, he’d meant it. But that didn’t make him regret those words any less now.

He sighed again, the sound heavy in the stillness, and turned back toward the house. His boots creaked softly on the steps as he ascended to the bedroom he shared with Kate. The air inside was quieter than the swamp outside, a hushed calm broken only by the occasional murmur of the gang stirring below.

Kate lay curled beneath their blanket, her hair splayed across the pillow in a tangled mess that caught the pale morning light. The sight of her tugged at something deep inside him—a mix of love and guilt that settled in his chest. She looked so peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, a stark contrast to the restless energy she carried during the waking hours.

Arthur knelt beside the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. Her skin felt warm against his lips. She stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling again.

“Be back soon,” he whispered, his voice low and smooth.

For a moment, he lingered there, his hand resting on her shoulder as though drawing strength from the simple touch. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he straightened and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Whatever the day held, he’d face it. But as he made his way back down to the waiting world, he knew his thoughts would stay rooted here, with her. 

Always with her.

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate was lost in the throes of a feverish dream, her mind teetering on the edge of consciousness. Somewhere in the haze, she felt Arthur's lips brush against her temple—a fleeting touch that tethered her briefly to the safety of Shady Belle. But like water slipping through her fingers, she drifted away again, into a world both foreign and familiar.

She was standing in the bayou, its dark, twisting mangrove trees reaching like skeletal fingers toward a starless sky. Their roots dive far below the depths, peeking out in gnarled braids. There was no moon, yet the scene was bathed in an eerie glow, as if the shadows themselves emitted a pale, unnatural light. The air was thick and heavy, like the fever clinging to her skin, and she felt the weight of unseen eyes watching from just beyond the edges of her vision. Every time she turned, they vanished, retreating deeper into their dark spaces.

The cold water lapped at her thighs, the chill seeping through her soaked nightdress as it billowed around her legs like dissolving smoke. Shady Belle was nowhere to be seen, and she felt untethered, as though the world itself had abandoned her. She wanted to shout, to call Arthur’s name. But her mouth and tongue betrayed her, remaining silent in the oppressive quiet. Her mind grappled for meaning, but the logic of dreams offered no answers, only the inexorable thrill of what came next.

In a blink, the scene shifted, and she stood before an ancient, tortured looking willow tree. Its massive branches drooping low, their weight seeming to bow toward the water as if in devotion—or coercion. Devoid of color and leaves, it looked barren yet beckoning. The tree loomed impossibly large, its roots poking up through the earth as if it was trying to pry itself from the ground. They spread wide and deep, cradling something small and swaddled in a yellow fabric.

Kate’s body moved without her permission, her feet splashed forward sinking into the muck with every step, her hand outstretched toward the bundle. It pulsed faintly, as though alive, the fabric inexplicably dry and pristine despite the muddy water lapping at its edges. She knelt, her fingers trembling as they brushed the delicate cloth.

The earth beneath her began to quiver, a slow, rhythmic tremor that she realized was a heartbeat. It echoed in her chest, though strangely out of sync with her own, as if it belonged to something other. The sound grew louder, resonating in her bones, drowning out the hum of the bayou. It was steady and strong unlike her own, which began to falter under the pressure of uncertainty. 

This heartbeat was mighty.

With a deep breath, she peeled back the fabric. Expecting some fragile, living thing, she froze when all that lay within was a seed. Small, unassuming, nestled within the soft blanket—a peach pit.

A strange disquiet settled over her. What’s this doing here? she wondered, turning it over in her hand. She couldn’t explain why, but her mind immediately thought of Arthur. Before she could rise, a flash of light caught her eye. Looking up, her breath hitched.

Sunken into the tree’s ancient trunk was a mirror, its frame gnarled and alive, twisting like the roots that encased it. But the reflection that met her gaze wasn’t her own—or at least, not as she knew herself.

The woman in the mirror was her, but different. Healthier, fuller. Her hair was smooth and pinned in an elegant style, and she wore a fine dress—proper and clean, with no trace of the rough life Kate knew so well. But her expression was strained, her face marked by some deep, unspoken sorrow.

In her arms, the reflection cradled the same yellow bundle Kate had just unwrapped. The fabric was clean and vibrant, glowing softly as though untouched by the bayou's darkness. Kate looked on, and the image began to fade, its yellow hue leaching into dullness before her eyes.

"No," she whispered, a surge of desperation clawing at her chest. The mirror seemed to flicker, the image trembling as if on the verge of breaking apart. She dropped the seed into the water, her hands reaching out toward the reflection, pleading with it. Tears blurred her vision as her knees sank into the mud.

She clawed at the bark of the tree, her nails scraping against the wood as the mirror began to dissolve into the surrounding fog. The woman in the reflection lingered for just a moment longer, her pained eyes softened, and she smiled at Kate, before vanishing entirely.

As the last wisp of light faded, Kate’s gaze dropped. There, floating in the water before her, was the peach pit. It was glowing now, faintly golden, radiating outward as it nestled into her lap. Reaching down with cupped hands she felt its warmth, pulsing with the steady beat of her heart. Harmonizing, as if they were one.

A soft whisper reached her ears, though no voice could be seen or placed. The words were indistinct, like a lullaby carried on a distant breeze. Yet they filled her with an overwhelming peace, soothing the ache that had gripped her chest. Kate clung to the warmth, holding the seed close to her chest. 

The water began to rise, enveloping her body. But she held onto the tiny pit, clinging to the hope it offered her. Shielding it from the darkness as it swallowed them both. 

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The rhythmic clatter of Belle’s hooves against the cobblestone echoed through the bustling streets of Saint Denis, a steady cadence that drowned out the city’s chaos. The sharp clang of the trolley on its tracks, the overlapping shouts of merchants and passersby, even the piercing cry of a seagull overhead—all of it faded into the background. Arthur’s mind, however, was far from quiet. His thoughts churned, replaying the morning’s work, scanning for anything they might have missed. Anything that could tip their carefully planned mission into disaster.

Arthur and Trelawney had spent the better part of the day digging into every detail of the high-stakes card tournament scheduled aboard the Grand Korrigan the following evening. Trelawney and Strauss were confident they could fix the game in Arthur’s favor, but there was still much to learn. Who were the players? What were the stakes? And how could they infiltrate the riverboat without raising suspicion?

Trelawney, ever the charmer, had already secured the proper attire and spent hours mingling in the city’s seedier poker dens, listening to whispers and picking up useful scraps of information. Meanwhile, Arthur had taken to scouting the boat itself. He’d memorized its layout, noted its docking schedule, and kept a sharp eye on the captain and crew as they moved about their business. Every detail mattered, and Arthur was determined not to leave any stone unturned.

Lost in thought, Arthur rode back toward the heart of town to meet Trelawney at their arranged rendezvous. The weight of the mission sat heavy on his shoulders, his focus narrowing in on the steps ahead. So much so, he almost didn’t hear the voice calling out to him.

“Arthur!”

The shout was sudden, cutting through the din. Feminine, familiar.

He pulled Belle to a halt, glancing around until his eyes landed on a balcony just above street level. There she was—Mary Gillis, leaning eagerly against the railing, her face lit with a mixture of relief and excitement.

“Oh, Arthur, you came!” she called, waving as though the years between them had never passed.

Arthur stiffened in the saddle, his hand tightening slightly on Belle’s reins. He’d forgotten about her letter, about her request for help. Hell, he’d barely had time to think it over, let alone discuss it with Kate. The mission had consumed his every waking moment, and he’d figured he’d have a few days to sort it out—if he even decided to go at all. But now, fate had a way of forcing his hand.

He sighed deeply, the sound barely audible over the city’s noise. “Yeah, I, uh—I came,” he called back, the words tasting like regret the moment they left his mouth.

The smile on Mary’s face faltered slightly as she saw the frustration etched into Arthur’s expression. Her enthusiasm met the weight of his weariness, a stark contrast to the nostalgic hope that had brought her to this moment. She leaned on the hotel railing, her eyes fixed on him as though they could will away the years and pain between them.

"Wait right there, I’m coming straight down!" she called, disappearing into the building before Arthur could even open his mouth to protest.

He dismounted Belle with a heavy sigh, hitching her to the post outside. The doors of the Hotel Grand swung open moments later, and Mary rushed out, her steps hurried, her face alight with nervous energy.

"Arthur," she said again, softer this time, her tone steeped in wistfulness.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. "What is it you need this time, Mary?" His voice was steady but edged, cutting straight to the point. He didn’t want to linger, didn’t want to open doors he’d shut long ago.

Her expression faltered. "I can’t believe you came," she said, ignoring his question. Her voice carried a strange mix of gratitude and regret. "After everything…"

Arthur’s patience was thinning. He looked away, his gaze following a passing wagon down the street. "Sure, seems whenever you call, I come," he muttered, his tone clipped. "Now just tell me what’s goin’ on. I don’t have all day."

Mary took a hesitant step closer, clasping her hands in front of her. "It’s my daddy," she began.

Arthur let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Your father? Christ, Mary, I must be an even bigger fool than I thought."

"Please, Arthur," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I know my daddy was always hard on you, but he was just trying to protect me. Can’t you see that? He wanted better for me than—"

"Better than me," Arthur interrupted, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing. "That’s what you’re sayin’, ain’t it? Your father was never kind to me. He thought I was trash. Made damn sure I knew it, too."

Mary flinched but pressed on. "Your choices—Arthur, they—"

"What choice did I have!" he barked, rising with an anger that had been simmering for years. "You knew who I was, what my life was. I never left you, Mary. You walked away."

Her eyes welled with unshed tears, but Arthur didn’t let up, the wounds of their past bleeding fresh. "You think I don’t know why? You made the right call, I’ll give you that. But you don’t get to come back now and act like I’m your knight in shinin’ armor. I’m not. And I can’t be."

"Arthur, please," she begged. "You’re still the best man I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t be here asking you if I didn’t believe that."

He shook his head, his frustration boiling over. "You don’t know a damn thing about me anymore. You’re livin’ in some fantasy, Mary. Always have been. This pure life of yours? Your daddy’s still drinkin’ and whorin’ and gamblin’ away your money. Jamie’s nearly run off with some cult, and here you are, beggin’ me to fix it all."

Her lips quivered as she reached for him, but he stepped back, keeping the distance between them. "I’m sorry," she said quietly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I didn’t know who else to turn to."

Arthur sighed, his anger giving way to something softer, but no less resolute. He stared at her for a long moment, his voice low but firm when he finally spoke, feeling defeated. "This is the last time we meet like this Mary. I’m done doin’ your family favors."

Her eyes widened as she grasped the weight of his words. "Oh, Arthur…"

"I’ve got my own life to worry about now," he said, gentler but unwavering. "My own family. A woman who’s stood by me, who I’ve got a future with. That’s where I’m puttin’ my focus. Not on what might’ve been."

Mary’s breath hitched, and she turned away. "It wasn’t that I didn’t love you, Arthur," she whispered, thick with emotion. “You know that.” 

"Don’t," Arthur said quickly, voice tightening. "Don’t bring that up now. It’s done. We’re done."

She turned back to him, her expression desperate, but he didn’t waver. "Think of what we had," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Of what could’ve been."

Arthur shook his head, his voice firm even as his heart throbbed. "I’ve spent enough time thinkin’ about that, Mary. Now I’m thinkin’ about what I’ve got. And I’m not gonna throw it away for somethin’ that’s long gone."

Mary lowered her gaze, her fingers twisting together nervously. For a moment, silence fell between them, save for the distant clatter of wagon wheels and the murmur of city life around them. Arthur could see it—the shadow of the young woman she’d been, the glimmer of the love they once shared. That flicker hit him like a punch to the gut, stirring memories he’d buried deep.

He sighed, running a hand over his jaw, trying to shake the ache in his chest. Damn it all to hell, Arthur thought. Why was it always her?

Finally, he let out a long breath and stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly at his touch, then turned to meet his gaze, her eyes hopeful and fragile all at once.

"Fine," Arthur muttered, his tone gruff and tinged with resignation. "But this is the last time, Mary. You hear me? The last damn time."

Her lips parted in surprise, and for a fleeting moment, her face lit up, though the weight of her troubles quickly returned. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispered.

He dropped his hand and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. "Don’t thank me yet. Just tell me what kinda trouble your daddy’s dragged himself into this time."

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Stealing back the Gillis family brooch had proven to be an unseemly task, though far easier than Arthur had expected. The brooch had found its way into the hands of a pompous collector named Mr. Hugo Abernathy, a well-known figure in Saint Denis. Abernathy had a reputation for exploiting desperate gamblers, trading their losses for heirlooms and sentimental trinkets to add to his collection of gaudy treasures. Arthur didn’t know whether the man fancied himself a cultured gentleman or just another leech, but it didn’t matter. He’d made the mistake of crossing paths with Arthur Morgan. As satisfying as it might’ve been to rob the man blind, this wasn’t about profit—it was about keeping his word to Mary, no matter how reluctant he’d been to give it.

By the time Arthur handed over the brooch, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the bustling streets of Saint Denis. He walked Mary back to her hotel, his boots echoing dully against the cobblestone as he turned his thoughts toward camp. Toward Kate.

As if sensing his distraction, Mary broke the silence. “So,” she said lightly, “tell me about this woman who’s tamed your heart.”

Arthur huffed a quiet chuckle. “She’s far from taming it. Hell, I can’t even tame her sometimes.”

Mary laughed softly, but there was something wistful in her tone. “She sounds... spirited.”

“She is,” Arthur said, a rare softness creeping into his voice. “She’s somethin’ else, Mary. She don’t back down from nothing. She’s kind, too, in her own way. Got a way of makin’ me believe I might just be better than I’ve been.”

Mary hesitated, a flicker of something unspoken crossing her face. “And... she doesn’t mind what you do? The outlaw life, I mean. Doesn’t it... bother her? I can’t imagine it’s the life any woman dreams of.”

Arthur’s steps slowed, and his jaw tightened as the words sank in. He stopped, turning to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mary’s eyes widened, realizing her misstep, but she pressed on, perhaps emboldened by old familiarity. “I just mean... I tried to love you, Arthur. I really did. But that life you lead—it consumes everything. I just don’t see how anyone can truly be happy with it. Or with you.”

Arthur’s lips parted slightly, as though the words had struck him like a blow. They pained him deeply, he already struggled with feeling unworthy of Kate’s affections. But it stung especially after what he had just done to save Mary’s family, again. A slow anger began to simmer in his chest. “Kate don’t see it that way,” he said firmly. “She sees me. For who I am. Not for what I’ve done or where I come from.”

Mary faltered, searching for the right response, but her silence said enough.

“That’s the difference, Mary,” Arthur continued, his tone sharpening. “You were always tryin’ to fix me, tryin’ to make me somethin’ I’m not. Kate... she doesn't ask for that. She just—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “She loves me as I am.”

Mary looked away, a flush creeping into her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Arthur. I just... I suppose I wanted to understand what she sees in you. What I couldn’t see.”

Arthur let out a breath, long and heavy. “Maybe that’s just it,” he said quietly. “We were never meant to see eye to eye. You were always lookin’ for somethin’ I couldn’t give, and I was too stubborn to realize it.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the distance between them suddenly feeling insurmountable.

“Thank you,” Mary said finally, her voice soft and resolute. “For everything.”

Arthur nodded, his expression unreadable. “Take care, Mary.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, the sound of his boots fading into the din of the city.

As Arthur mounted Belle and rode back toward camp, a strange weight lifted from his shoulders. It was as though he’d finally closed a door he hadn’t realized had been open for far too long, letting the past linger like a ghost. Mary had been a symbol of what had always been out of reach—a life of quiet respectability, a pure life. A fantasy where he could be the man she thought he should be. But with every step Belle took, the clarity of his feelings grew. 

That life had never been meant for him. Mary had never been meant for him.

Mary had wanted a version of him that didn’t exist, a man who could walk away from the outlaw life and become something proper in the eyes of society. She’d seen his flaws as barriers, challenges to be smoothed over or removed entirely. That his past was something he could simply erase from his identity. She loved the idea of him, not the man himself. 

Kate, on the other hand, had never tried to change him. She had seen him at his worst—bloodied and bruised, hardened by the choices he’d made—and still, she’d chosen to love him. All of him. The good, the bad, and the downright ugly.

Kate didn’t just stand by his side; she rooted herself there in devotion. She didn’t demand perfection or moral absolution. Instead, she accepted the man he was and encouraged the man he was trying to become. She saw the good in him, even when he couldn’t see it himself. Kate understood that his scars, both visible and hidden, were part of what made him who he was. Where Mary had always sought to mend or reshape him, Kate simply held space for him to be, flaws and all. 

As the city lights of Saint Denis faded behind him, Arthur let out a deep breath, one he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The ache of old memories had dulled, replaced by something warmer, steadier. He thought of Kate’s laugh, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief when she teased him, the strength in her voice when she pushed him to keep fighting for what mattered. She didn’t coddle him or let him wallow in self-pity. She challenged him, called him out, set him straight, and still, she stayed.

The realization struck him like a punch to the gut: Kate was his future. Not some imagined version of himself or a life he could never truly live. Kate was real, and she was waiting for him back at camp.

Arthur urged Belle into a faster trot, eager to leave Saint Denis behind. The past had its place, sure, but it wasn’t where he belonged. Not anymore. For the first time in a long while, Arthur felt certain of his path. His future lay ahead with Kate—and he could hardly wait to seize it.

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The camp was alive with the warm hum of camaraderie as Kate sat cross-legged at the poker table, her cheeks flushed from laughter. The early evening sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over Shady Belle as the group settled into their game. Hosea, ever the charming rogue, shuffled the deck with a flair, his mischievous grin growing as he eyed Kate's rapidly increasing pile of poker chips. 

Charles leaned back in his chair, sipping from a tin cup while Javier and Lenny exchanged jabs, their banter bringing easy laughter to the group.

“Now, Miss Kate,” Hosea drawled, dealing the cards with the finesse of a seasoned cheat, “you’d best not let that pretty smile fool us into thinking you don’t know what you’re doing. Although,” he added, nodding toward her hoard of chips, “I suspect the smile ain’t needed.”

Kate smirked, tossing a couple of chips into the pot. “Oh, trust me, Hosea. I don’t need my pretty smile to clean you out.”

A ripple of laughter swept over the table as Lenny slapped it. “She’s got you there, old man! She’s ruthless.”

“I’ll show you ‘old man,’” Hosea grumbled, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

Charles leaned in, his tone faux-serious. “Or maybe she’s just cheating.”

Kate gasped, placing a hand to her chest in mock offense. “The slander! Lies on my good name!”

“Good practice for tomorrow,” Javier said with a sly grin. “Maybe we should put her at the table instead of Arthur.”

The group erupted in laughter as the game continued, the teasing punctuated by moments of concentration. Kate reveled in the lightheartedness, the warmth of her companions easing the dull fatigue that had lingered all day. The strange dream she’d had still nagged at the edges of her thoughts, but the laughter and camaraderie helped soften its weight.

The sound of hooves approaching broke through the chatter, and all heads turned as Arthur dismounted Belle and strolled toward the group. Kate’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“Arthur!” she greeted warmly, setting her cards down. “You’re back early. I thought you’d be out until dark.”

Arthur tipped his hat to the group, his gaze softening when it landed on her. With a small, fond smile, he bent to tilt back her hat and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, completely unbothered by the amused stares from the others. 

“Figured I’d better get back,” he said, his voice low but full of concern. “How’re you feelin’? Grimshaw ain’t been ridin’ you too hard, has she?”

Kate waved him off, trying to mask her weariness with a smile. “It’s alright, Arthur. Just needed a little rest, that’s all.”

Arthur stepped behind her chair, folding his arms as he watched the game unfold. “You want me to deal you in, son?” Hosea asked with a knowing smirk.

Arthur shook his head. “I’ll pass. Looks like y’all’ve got enough trouble at the table already.”

Three hands later, Arthur couldn’t help but notice Kate placing a high bet despite her lame cards. He frowned, leaning forward. “Hold on. Are you whipsawin’ Hosea?” He whispered loudly. 

Kate froze, turning to glare at him with mock indignation. “Arthur Morgan, I cannot believe you right now.”

The men at the table groaned as Charles threw his cards down. “Told you she was cheating,” he said, laughing.

“How’s she even doing it?” Lenny asked, his curiosity piqued. “You can’t squeeze a player by yourself.”

Kate rose with a huff, tossing her cards on the table and dramatically pointing across at Javier. “Ay, pequeño diablo!” Javier threw his hands up in mock innocence. “I swear, it was her idea!”

Lenny leaned back, shaking his head with feigned annoyance. “Can’t believe you’d do Hosea dirty like that. Poor old man.”

Arthur burst into laughter as realization dawned. “You two teamed up on Hosea? Of all people?”

Hosea chuckled, putting a hand to his heart. “I’m touched, truly.”

Kate grinned, collecting her chips and dumping them in her satchel. “No hard feelings,” she said, pushing in her chair, and flicking her hat in a playful farewell.

“You’ve learned from the best,” Hosea replied with a laugh.

Kate looped her arm around Arthur as he wrapped a hand around her waist. “I think it’s time I turned in,” she said, her voice softening as the laughter behind her began to fade.

“Goodnight, Kate,” Charles said with a small nod, echoed by Lenny and Hosea.

Javier smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Sleep well, card shark. Don’t let Arthur keep you up too late.” He winked playfully, “we got a big day tomorrow.”

Arthur shot him a warning glance but chuckled, steering Kate toward the house. “They’re gonna have your name runnin’ through camp by morning,” he teased.

“Good,” Kate replied with a smirk. “Keeps things interesting.”

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The climb up the creaking, weathered staircase to their bedroom was quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around two people who didn’t need words to fill the space between them. Arthur walked just behind Kate, his gaze focussed on her every movement. 

Up close he noticed the faint pallor in her cheeks. She was good at hiding it, but he could tell she was still feeling unwell. He ran a hand over his jaw, searching for the right way to bring it up without discouraging her mood. Listening to her laughter and the childish banter with Hosea and the other guys struck a chord in his heart. He didn’t want anything to ruin her happiness. But this next job, coupled with her abating strength loomed over his consciousness. Arthur couldn’t let it go. 

As they reached the landing, Arthur cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. “Darlin’, I gotta talk to you about somethin’.” He was soft, cautious, but it was clear this wasn’t something he could brush aside.

Kate stopped just shy of opening the bedroom door, turning to face him with an arched brow. “That sounds ominous.”

Arthur gave her a crooked smile, his hat in his hands, but before he could continue, Kate pushed the door open—and gasped.

Hanging from a shelf inside the room was an elegant black and gold dress, the fabric catching the dim light like liquid fire. Beside it hung a sleek black suit and a matching golden ascot tie—Trelawney’s handiwork, no doubt. Arthur recognized the attire immediately, part of the plan for the riverboat job, and an uncomfortable weight settled in his chest. 

This wasn’t the first risky scheme they’d run, but something about involving Kate this time gnawed at him. The mayor's garden party had been a simple play to gather information. It had gone smoothly enough, but this felt different. The stakes were higher, the dangers more evident. Kate would be shoved in the spotlight. Open, and vulnerable. 

This wasn’t just another job with the gang. In the past, Arthur would dive into missions headfirst, guns blazing and ready to handle whatever chaos came his way. He’d learned to adapt, to put on a show when things went south, always prepared to claw his way out of trouble. But this time was different. This time, he had something to lose.

Kate wasn’t just another member of the gang. She was a light in the darkness, a reason to hope in a world that so often felt too heavy to bear.

Arthur's unease wasn’t just about her safety—it was about what her involvement represented. Every lie, every con, every dangerous move Dutch made, Arthur could swallow it. It was a part of the life he'd chosen. But dragging Kate into that world, risking her for the sake of their schemes, felt like a line he was dangerously close to crossing. One that gambled with her life. 

She deserved better than this, Arthur knew it was not the future he wanted for her. Yet here she was, caught up in it all because of him. Because Kate is too stubborn to let him take on the world alone. The thought of something going wrong made him feel sick. 

Kate stepped forward, running her fingers lightly over the dress, her expression equal parts awe and amusement. “Well, I’ll be damned. Trelawney certainly has an eye for style,” she murmured.

Arthur crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, an eye for flair and trouble. This don’t change how I feel about you being involved in it.”

Kate turned to him, her playful grin fading as she caught the concern etched into his face. “Arthur,” she began softly, already sensing where this was headed, “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that?” he pressed, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “You ain’t been feelin’ fine these past few days. You think I don’t notice how pale you’ve been lookin’, or how you’ve been tryin’ to hide it from me? I’m worried about you.”

“I told you, it’s nothing serious,” Kate said, though the edge in her voice betrayed her. 

“Darlin’, it’s serious to me.” Arthur stated. 

She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Arthur or herself. Her thoughts drifted back to the dream she’d had that morning, the edges of it now hazy, like a half-remembered melody. She could recall flashes—shadows moving like whispers, an overwhelming warmth, and a sense of being drawn toward something she couldn’t quite remember. The dream’s meaning eluded her, slippery and incomprehensible, but it left behind a strange, fluttering feeling in her chest, like the stirrings of anticipation or fear.

Maybe it was just the lingering effects of the fever, or perhaps something more. Kate had noticed subtle changes in her body—a creeping fatigue that left her feeling weaker than usual, a loss of appetite, and persistent headaches that seemed to come and go. She brushed it off as nothing serious, likely just a common cold. After all, a little sickness had never slowed her down before.

She squared her shoulders, meeting his eyes. “I can pull my weight, Arthur. I always have.”

Arthur sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “It ain’t about pullin’ your weight hon. You’ve got nothin’ to prove to me or to anyone else. I don’t want you pushin’ yourself too hard, not for something like this.” He gestured toward the dress, his voice softening. “If somethin’ goes wrong on that boat…”

Kate crossed the room and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “It won’t. Hosea’s got this all planned out to the last detail. I just have to sing a few songs while you win a couple rounds. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The fact that Kate rehearsed things with Hosea brought him a sense of calm, but still his anxiety festered. Arthur held her gaze, his deep blue eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt.

 “I just hate that Dutch is puttin’ you in the lion's den while your vulnerable. You mean everything to me, Kate,” he said quietly. “I don’t want a future without you in it.”

Kate smiled faintly, her fingers brushing against his cheek as his warm hands enveloped her waist, squeezing them like he was testing if she were real or just his wild imagination.

“I’ll make you a deal, alright?” she resolved. “After this, I’m done. No more schemes, no more jobs. I’ll tell Dutch I’m out of commission.”

Arthur’s lips quirked into a soft smile, though the worry didn’t fully leave his face. She had made up her mind. “I’ll hold you to that,” he muttered, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

She rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her. “I know you will,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

As they stood in the quiet room, the soft glow of the lantern illuminated the dress and suit like relics from a story neither of them wanted to live, an unwelcome reminder of the weight of the world outside. Arthur tilted his head, his lips brushing against Kate’s hairline with a tenderness that belied the tension coiled in his chest. His hand traced slow, deliberate circles along the small of her back, grounding him as much as it soothed her. 

For a moment, Kate closed her eyes and leaned into him, the warmth of his body chasing away the lingering unease of her dream. Flashes of it teased the edges of her mind—a heartbeat, a pull she couldn’t quite explain. She opened her eyes and pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his chest where she could feel his heart, steady and strong. 

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” she teased, though the mischief in her eyes couldn’t entirely hide the vulnerability beneath. 

Arthur let out a soft snort, his lips quirking into a smirk that made her stomach flutter. “Darlin’, I think you got that backward.” He leaned down to nudge her nose with his, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “I don't know what a man like me did to deserve a woman like you.”

Her laughter was quiet, intimate, the kind that warmed Arthur to his core and chased away the heaviness he carried. She moved her hands to his shoulders, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt like she was memorizing him. For a moment, all the worry and fear melted away. 

“You know,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “you could try on the suit—” She bit her lip, her lashes lowering as she glanced up at him, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.“And recreate that night we had in Saint Denis.” 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look, though the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. “What, you’re tellin’ me this doesn’t have it’s charm?” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to his body and clothes. His tone was laced with mock arrogance, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed his act.

Kate pressed herself against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Absolutely,” she murmured, her voice softer now, her lips hovering close to his. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, her breath mingling with his. “I want you just as you are.”

Arthur’s grin widened, his hands sliding up her sides to cradle her face. His thumbs brushed her cheeks as he leaned closer, his voice a rough murmur. “Then what are we waitin’ for, to hell with the suit.”

Kate didn’t give him a chance to say more. Standing on her toes, she captured his mouth in a kiss, slow and deliberate. Arthur stilled for only a heartbeat, then surrendered, his hands tightening on her waist as he kissed her back with a fervor that made her knees weak. The world outside the room seemed to vanish, the faint sounds of camp life fading into nothing. All that mattered was the way her lips moved against his, the way her fingers tangled in his hair, the way her body molded perfectly to his, like they’d been made for this.

His tongue brushed along her bottom lip, and Kate moaned softly, her hands sliding to his collar to tug him closer. Their movements grew more eager, more desperate, as they peeled away layers of clothing, discarding them without breaking their connection. Arthur felt his need for her aching between his legs, and he couldn’t stop himself from guiding her backward to the cot. He followed her down, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he ground his hips against hers, drawing a breathless gasp from her lips.

Arthur broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, his stubble scraping lightly against her sensitive skin. Each kiss was unhurried and reverent, as though he were memorizing her taste. He reached the curve of her collarbone, then lower, his mouth finding a peaked nipple. He captured it between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, and Kate arched into him, a soft cry spilling from her mouth.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as his kisses continued downward, his warm breath ghosting over her stomach. She shivered beneath him, flashes of her dream surfacing again—the heartbeat, the magnetic pull, the sense of inevitability. When he kissed her navel, she swore she could feel it again, that same unshakable connection.

Arthur paused, his lips hovering over her skin as he looked up at her. “You alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice thick with concern and raw desire. His hands caressed her thighs, grounding her in the moment.

Kate laughed breathlessly, her heart racing so fast she thought he might feel it. “I am now,” she whispered, her voice trembling with affection and longing.

Arthur chuckled, low and warm, the sound vibrating against her skin. His hands slid down to lift her thighs, spreading her open for him. She gasped softly as she felt his warm breath against her most sensitive spot, her fingers tightening in his hair.

“I think I can help with that,” he drawled, his grin turning devilish before he lowered his head and pressed a kiss where she needed him most.

Kate’s body tensed at the first touch of his tongue, her head falling back as a moan escaped her lips, unrestrained and raw. That sound, coupled with the sensations Arthur was drawing from her, made her chest tighten with something beyond pleasure. The rhythm from her dream returned, steady and certain, like a heartbeat resonating deep within her soul. It wasn’t just her body responding to him; it was her heart, her entire being. Arthur’s mouth moved with a precision that wasn’t hurried but deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to explore her, to love her in a way that felt eternal. 

Every touch was a silent vow. A tangible expression of holy devotion, a sacred need that left her trembling beneath him, utterly lost yet feeling more whole than ever.

As the pleasure surged and overwhelmed her, Kate swore she could feel that heartbeat echo in her chest, pulsing with a meaning she didn’t fully understand but instinctively trusted. This moment wasn’t just an escape from the dangers of tomorrow; it was an anchor, a reminder of what truly mattered. What they were fighting for; their future.  Kate cried out his name, the sound trembling with passion and something deeper. Hope. In Arthur’s touch, in his unspoken promises, she knew that whatever lay ahead, there was hope for a future beyond this. For now, she let herself fall into his love, into the steady rhythm that promised her not just comfort but a forever she hadn’t dared to dream of.

AN: I know this chapter and the last one probably feel a little repetitive in the way they're structured; Arthur goes out, Kate is left at camp, and then they come together at night. But I promise the next chapter will include them together. I think you all know what mission is coming up....

Suffice to say, I think I've got the rest of this fic laid out. Well at least I have the bones, I've just been adding the meat as I go along. But it will be 35 chapters, with 2 epilogue chapters (37 total). It feels so far away, yet close at the same time. I wonder if I'll finish this before it hits the one year anniversary in March! ♥️

[gh0stbeeee]

Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood is low-key my Roman Empire.

Like, specifically in the movie verse, there's just... so much that was never elaborated on. It's one of the unfortunate side effects of being kid's media, things get dumbed down for no reason.

Like, Jack Frost in general as a character. He died. DIED. He DROWNED in a pond saving his sister and??? Nothing. The entire moment when he remembered became "Oh I'm the fun guy that had a family and saved my sister!" AND DIED. Very important part that is completely glossed over other than the idea of sacrifice. Like, the other guardians were "chosen," did they not die too? Did Jack lose his memories because he died, but the others were chosen while alive, chose to leave their lives and remembered?

And just, what were his early years? For a very long time, at least a decade, he probably thought he was totally invisible, that he could never have a true conversation with another person, because I doubt that he stumbled upon another spirit/legend for a while.

Like, that would have driven him INSANE. There's no way he wouldn't be super socially awkward from the isolation, much less just totally mentally well. Are spirit's brains built different? They'd have to be, but I don't think they should be able to withstand that level. Like what was the mim thinking??? Seriously just abandoned a TEENAGER he resurrected with no memory or possibility of support, that's wrong.

And on that note, let me reiterate that Jack died. In front of his little sister. Who had to go back home and tell her family what happened. Did he have a father too? More siblings? Friends and family? They had a funeral no doubt, mourned him. Because he died.

The worst part? He was right there. The whole time. Jack came back to that pond and settlement for hundreds of years, even when it became Burgress. He probably watched his funeral not knowing what was going on, saw his family mourn him without knowing it was for him. He was there when they died, not knowing who they were to him. Did he realize later on? I can only imagine the devastation.

The worst part is Manny probably had to take his memories, because Jack would have been DEPRESSED. He would've tried everything to make them believe, and they probably never would. His parents would probably never see him again, they were adults. His sister was plausible, but she's still mortal. She would have died, Jack would have seen his little sister grow old and die while he stayed eternally young. He might've not ever recovered from that, mim taking his memories distanced him from the pain for when he remembered 300 years later.

But he also could have moved on, grown and loved her descendants and honored her. The mim took that choice away, and that's pretty fucked up.

Then yeah, 300 years of pretty much no acknowledgement. Going into live blind with no guidance or memories, trying to figure yourself out but being ignored by the once who brought you here. Jack would realistically be a little nutty, because wow. It's shown the even other spirits didn't really talk to him, he made them acknowledge him by playing pranks and pissing them off till they confronted him. Maybe it's in spirit's nature to be recluses, but it's not in Jack's. He wanted attention and to be seen, but no one wanted to or could give it to him.

That's why Jamie seeing him for the first time always makes me tear up. This is the first time for HUNDREDS of years that a human has acknowledged him, not an out of touch spirit, but a regular person Jack can connect with, that chose to see him, to believe. That's beautiful, and special.

There's just so many layers to this story that we never got to see, and I'm forever sad DreamWorks abandoned the franchise.

(If anyone has any good fics that explore topics like this, especially Jack's family, please share)

[yuurei20]

this is a late question but I was thinking about book 2 and the novel, did the novel have Yuya get knocked out by the spell drive disk so he couldn’t see Malleus compete or did they have him miss the game for a different reason

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question--and yes he did!

Novel-Prefect and Game-Prefect shared the same fate at the end of Book 2: here is a partial translation!

"Grim is called over, the ghosts are gathered, and Yuuya huddles with Ace and Deuce to set the strategy for their next move. Each of them work through ideas on how they might put even the slightest dent in the overwhelmingly powerful opponent that is Savanaclaw.

Yuuya surprises himself with the thought, ‘Ah, this is so much fun.’

Strangely, he does not find the aggressive tones and clashing opinions to be unpleasant. He can tell that both the Ramshackle team and the Savanaclaw team are cherishing this moment, and fighting with all they have.

There is an incomparable sense of achievement in this fight that is not to beat down their opponent, but merely to win. Surely this is not a confrontation. It is the refreshing joy that is unique to playing a sport fair and square.

Vargas blows his whistle. The game resumes.

This time, Yuuya is to mark Jack. It was Ace’s idea, based on the thought that Jack might hesitate to act against a magicless opponent.

As if he has seen right through Ace’s plot, Jack bends at the waist and growls.

‘Like I’d fall for that. I never hold back, no matter who I’m up against.’

‘That’s what I told him,’ Yuuya responds. When he follows with, ‘But I’ll still give it my all,' Jack looks surprised—and then releases a quick bark of laughter.

’That’s the spirit. I’ll give you everything I’ve got, too!’

Overhead, the ghosts cheer aloud. It seems that Team Ramshackle has managed to steal the disc again. Yuuya hears Grim’s voice from behind.

‘I’m gonna do it, too! The Great Grim Hurricane!’

Jack’s eyes go wide.

‘Yuu, behind you!’

Something strikes sharply against Yuuya’s head, and everything goes black.

--

There are voices speaking, and Yuuya gradually regains consciousness. He finally forces his heavy eyelids open, and his vision is flooded with white light.

‘Come on, man. That crazy shot was never gonna hit the mark. It came out of nowhere.’

‘Leona did it, so I figured I could do it too, is all…’

‘Don’t go thinking you and I are the same. Damn herbivore.’

Yuuya sees Ace and Grim sitting alongside him. He is lying down, apparently. While he hears Leona’s voice, Leona himself is nowhere to be found. Where is he?

Yuuya turns his head to see Jack and Deuce sitting on his other side. He meets Deuce’s eyes.

‘Ah, Yuu! You’re awake?’

‘I…what happened, again?’

As Yuuya tries to sit up, a sharp pain shoots through the back of his head. When he makes a wary attempt to touch the painful spot, his fingers are met with soft bandages. And, below them, a bump that hurts to press against. He must have a lump on his head.

Yuuya raises his eyes and sees a shelf lined with medicine. On the desk beside it is leftover gauze and a half-used roll of surgical tape. The clean smell of antiseptic lingers over everything. It seems that he is in the infirmary.

The large window behind him shows a sky that has turned from sunset to a deep navy blue, surprising Yuuya.

‘You don’t remember? Deuce asks. 'You got hit in the head by a disc that Grim threw as hard as he could, and it knocked you out. The doctor said there's nothing to worry about.’"

[lazella]

It would be so funny post canon if the gang finds a way to travel back and forth between their world and twst because I know damn well these powered by friendship mfs would pull tooth and nail to be able to stay connected to their new friends

And the reactions of the yu squads friends to the twst gang and the twst gangs reaction to their worlds

The Zexal crew meet Leona and they’re just “ I guess Yumas got a lion for a father now???”

Tell Leona about the barian shit and watch him lose his fucking mind. Also.. just shark and rio and Leona talking about royal stuff would probably be a very cute scenario, Leona’s interactions with the twins would be so fun you already KNOW he’s doing whatever the hell rio wants and you already KNOW he’s teaming up with her to bully shark and call him guppy

Ruggie would be terrified of Rio for his heart DO NOT tell him about her Barian morph he’ll shit himself. He’d get along well with flip me thinks and would teach him some tricks and what not

Cathy is LOOSING HER MIND about the beastmen WHAT DO YOU MEAN PEOPLE WITH CAT EARS AND TAILS EXIST??? if you tell her the octo trio are actually mermen using a potion to be human you already know she’s going to be BEGGING Yuma to get her a potion that gives her REAL cat ears and a tail. She HATES jack though and hisses at him often, He says he doesn’t care (he does. A lot)

A good rest of the cast are just like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YUMA HAS MAGIC POWERS?!? WHO LET THIS HAPPEN??? WHY???”

The scientific research Chris would wanna do on Yuma 🫠🫠

Meanwhile we go to GX and nobody there is fucking surprised, like “ hey judai what have you been up to” and cut to him telling the entirety of chapters 1-7 and the gangs just like “ yup the usual :)” and the twst cast is like “tf you mean the usual????”

Cater 🤝Chazz/manjoume-> shitty siblings

Somebody stop ace he’s been bantering with aster for the past hour somebody make it stop PLEASE

Judai introduces riddle to Jessie and Jessie immediately going “you are my friend now :)” somebody send riddle a floating he’s drowning in positivity

If I’m gonna be so damn honest treys gonna be interested in the duel spirits dental hygiene crystal beast especially I’m so sorry he’s so cringe I need to bonk him with a comically large rubber hammer 🤺

We cut to Arc-v, and yuyas encouraging Jamil to show off to his friends he was hesitant at first but Yuyas friends started ADORING Jamil thinking he was so cool and he was just having the time of his life and was genuinely interested in learning about duel monsters and Dueltaining thinking up a potential dance routine he could do while dueling was something he genuinely enjoyed doing with yuya

Sylvio DOES NOT like Jamil whatsoever “so he uses magic and comes from another world big whoop, I travelled too MULTIPLE worlds and saved them didn’t I 🙄” he likes kalim though ( mostly his praises but still)

Yuya shows his unique magic to Declan in hopes they can use it in a way to separate the yu boys and bracelet girls from each other, safe to say everyone freaked out about it XD

Over in DM Rook is making Joey PISS 👏HIM👏 SELF👏 he went through hell and back for yug but that creepy ass hunter with the shitty bob is making him lose his GODAMN MIND rook just says or freaking moans smth in French like his freaky ass usual does Joey is standing there losing his mind “IF YOU DONT SHUT—“

You already know Anzu is asking Vil for advice on EVERYTHING fashion, makeup, dancing, hair, NAME IT SHES ON IT and I know vils gonna adore her I feel it in my spidey senses

I’m gonna stop it here before I go insane and make this 100000 words long

I'm already going insane of thinking about post story shenanigans! I have plans and you are not far off in some ideas

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

15 Day BL Challenge - DAY 16

We're doing overtime, guys dksjkdjksdjskd

What Show Has Taken You by Surprise This Year?

Have I been disappointed this year? Yeah, sure. But, tbh, this has been a good year, I think. Many series have been pretty good and it seems like we're heading towards a future with more quality, which is always nice, right?

This being said, here are my best surprises this year:

Jack&Joker & Wandee Goodday

Can you believe me? I saw the trailer for Jack&Joker and I was like: "ah... okay, whatever..." WHAT A JOKE, WHAT A MOTHERFUCKING JOKE! sdjskdjskdjkj This turned out to be one of my all-time favourite series, I was hooked on it from the 1st episode. Not a boring time in this universe, not an episode I didn't absolutely love, what a great fucking series! From the satire to the romance to the found family, everything was on point. Truly buzzing for February!

I watched Wandee Goodday bc I thought it could be "cool". BUT WAS IT FUCKING COOL??? NAH, IT WAS COOL AF!!! We need more working gays as opposed to high school or uni gays. Give me adults with established lives. It's so nice to watch a bunch of freaks who know who they are, actually. And still have so much to learn and discover tho! It's also way better to watch ppl in their 30s be single and still figuring it out, like, it's a good reminder your life doesn't end at 29, like they be saying. I had so much fun with this series, I want 20 of these.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding & Caged Again

Not even gonna lie, I did start watching MMPF bc of Sakai Taisei bc, get this, I knew him from Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger. Yes. This is another tokusatsu to BL pipeline. Can't lie, I mean, I was curious. And boy, was I not disappointed. This series is so cute and heartwarming and actually well-written. My only complaint is that it should've been 2x hornier but that's okay.

PS: Ya boy over here is the creator of Mr. Mitsuya's tag on AO3, so if you wanna check out the only work in it (mine) here's your hyperlink xdkjdkjdksjdk.

Caged Again was probably the biggest surprise bc... Wdym he was a penguin and the other guy was a panther and they both escaped the zoo and are now students at a boarding school and 2 ppl from the zoo are after the human penguin to traffic him with his brother and then they got lost in a forest and older gays tried to help them and now they're being rescued by a spirit all while falling in love and trying to get a hold of the panther's predator instincts??? This is PitBabe 2. This is exactly the same level of brainfuck. And just like I was here for the furry men with a traffic plotline, I'm here for the furry teenagers with a traffic plotline. Nothing changed. dsksjdksjd Curious to see where it's gonna go!

[kittyadore]

Hi Hi 👋🏼 can you please do an earth 42 miles x reader when it's Halloween and they go out trick or treating together 💟

halloween

—𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦!42 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴

—𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

—𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵; 1,4𝘬

—𝘢/𝘯; hi lovelies, thank u so much for the request !! i had fun writing this, i really think e!42 miles is a cutie. sum e!1610 miles coming soon hopefully, please leave requests so i know what you guys want to read. also thank u so much for the 140 (i think) likes under my previous post, as its my first ever, it means a lot to me💝💝

As October descended upon Brooklyn, whispers of Halloween's approach filled the air. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation, and you couldn't contain your excitement for the upcoming festivities. But Miles, with a furrowed brow, scoffed at the idea, preferring solitude over celebrations.

Undeterred by Miles' grumpiness, you decided to transform his home into a magical realm of Halloween delight. His mother approved of your brilliant ideas, so the boys' opinion couldn't change anything. Armed with a vivid imagination and an overflowing box of decorations, you set out to infuse the flat with the spirit of the season.

While you took your time adorning his bedroom with ghostly figures, cobwebs, and some pumpkins, your boyfriend observed you from a distance, a skeptical expression etched on his face. Despite his reservations, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as your enthusiasm filled the air.

Subsequently, you transformed the living room into a haunted haven. With Rio's help, you strung orange and black streamers, hung paper bats from the ceiling, and carefully arranged a display of glowing jack-o'-lanterns. Miles' grumpiness wavered as he watched your infectious excitement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the evening came, you turned your attention to cute couple Halloween costumes. You spent hours crafting intricate outfits-a brooding vampire for Miles and a whimsical fairy costume for yourself. Miles grumbled about the discomfort of wearing a costume, but deep down, he couldn't deny the sparkle in your eyes, even though he tried to fight it.

"You're trippin, ma." The boy intervened firmly as he shook his head in disbelief. "I am not wearing that, no way." The sharp tone of his voice struck through your heart, slowly breaking it into pieces. You knew he wasn't the type to participate in adorable couple activities, but you didn't understand why couldn't he spend his time with you, at least during such fascinating time.

"Oh come on, Miles, why not?" You pouted, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a disapproving gaze. You were sure of his opinion, but deep down, you still had some hope, that the captivating season could soften his heart, even the tiniest bit. "It's like you don't love me anymore, Miles. You never do anything fun with me, we barely even spend time together. You're always out doing your 'important work', putting off our plans" You snapped at him, with slight wrath audible in your voice

"I get it, you might not be a fan of all those 'cringy' couple activities, but please, can't you enjoy your time with me for once?" You continued, your gaze shifting from his face to his torso. You could notice the confusion on his face, as you weren't the type to talk to him like this. "But alright, if you don't want to, I can just go out with someone else. You have fun here"

Miles made his way up to his bed, sitting down beside you, letting out a sigh, as he entwined his hands with yours. Staring into his eyes, you could see them filling up with agony, clearly hurt after hearing your truthful speech.

"Look, mami. I'm sorry I haven't given you enough time lately, you know, I just cant explain it. I want to keep you safe" Your boyfriend started the same answer you hear every time you would bring up his job. It was different though, he never really genuinely apologized to you. Sure, a quick 'my bad' or 'i'll do better' usually left his mouth, but you've never heard him say 'i'm sorry'. He put his head down as he continued.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, you know I'm not happy about me canceling our dates either. I can dress up and go trick-or-treating with you, ma. I hate seeing you like this, I'll do better, princessa."

Miles stole a quick kiss on your lips, then on your forehead as he got up from the bed, reaching over to your Halloween costumes. His lips shifted into a soft smile as he felt a wave of warmth strike through his heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you two emerged from his house, you adorned in vibrant fairy costume that shimmered under the moonlight. You fluttered your wings, casting a spell of enchantment that swirled around Miles.

Miles, reluctantly participating, donned a simple costume, a bloodthirsty vampire. Deep down, he couldn't resist your excitement, and a flicker of curiosity ignited within him, as you took the lead.

Hand in hand, you set off into the moonlit streets, where houses were adorned with cobwebs, glowing pumpkins, and haunting decorations. Children, disguised as witches, superheroes, and ghosts, giggled and chattered as they darted from door to door.

You, with your infectious laughter, skipped ahead, your voice like a melody in the night. Miles trailed behind, his grumpy attitude slowly giving way to the passion he hadn't felt in years.

At each house, children eagerly showcased their costumes, their eyes shining with anticipation. Your eyes danced with delight, and your laughter filled the crisp autumn air. Miles, though initially skeptical, found himself chuckling at your excitement, realizing that Halloween held a joy he had long forgotten.

As you continued your journey collecting candy, you arrived at a house unlike any other. It's porch was adorned with shimmering lights, and a melodious tune drifted through the air. You approached, your hand entwined with your boyfriends' and your eyes wide with wonder, and rang the doorbell.

The door creaked open, revealing an elderly man dressed as a magician. With a flourish of his wand, he produced a basket overflowing with candy. As he handed you a treat, he leaned in and whispered, "May the magic of this night bring joy to even the coldest of hearts."

Miles was taken aback by the man's words. Perhaps there was more to Halloween than he had ever realized. A seed of enchantment had been planted within him, sprouting into a newfound appreciation for the night's festivities.

Eager to share this newfound delight, Miles' coldness dissipated like mist in the morning sun. He engaged in playful banter with fellow trick-or-treaters, admiring their costumes and sharing in the joy of the evening.

As the moon reached its zenith, you approached the final house on your route. The porch was transformed into a whimsical wonderland, complete with floating candles and mystical creatures. Your eyes sparkled, and Miles' heart swelled with anticipation.

You knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a woman dressed as a fortune teller. Her voice was soft and melodious as she greeted you. Miles exchanged glances with you, feeling as though you had stumbled into a magical realm.

The fortune teller handed you each a small, golden envelope. "Open these when the clock strikes midnight," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with mystery.

With a sense of wonder pulsing through your veins, you and your boyfriend bid the fortune teller farewell. You made your way back home, your pumpkin buckets filled to the brim with sweet treasures.

As the clock neared midnight, you sat on the couch, in the decorated living room. With a hushed countdown, you opened your golden envelopes in unison.

Inside, you discovered handwritten notes, each containing a heartfelt message from the other. Words of love, appreciation, and gratitude spilled from the pages, filling your hearts with warmth.

You and Miles exchanged smiles, your souls intertwined in a magical moment. You realized that the true enchantment of Halloween was not just in the costumes or treats, but in the bonds that were strengthened and the love that was kindled.

As the clock struck midnight, Miles took your hand in his and whispered, "Thank you for showing me the magic of this night, ma. I'm sorry for being so harsh with you and canceling our dates so often. If they are as amazing as this one, it will never happen again." Your eyes shimmered with happiness and you let out a quiet laugh at his words.

Under the moonlit sky, the two of you shared a tender kiss, the magic of the night enveloping you. In that moment, you knew that love, laughter, and the spirit of Halloween would forever illuminate your lives, casting away any shadows of coldness that may try to linger.