#not season 2 compliant

[cypresscoffin]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet, Israel Hands Additional Tags: Reunions, Hurt No Comfort, No Beta Summary:

Then he speaks and the Kraken is livid. It’s no angel, it’s no blessing, it's Stede Fucking Bonnet. “Ed,” And he wished he was being metaphorical when he said he saw red.

or

It was supposed to be the day the Kraken died and Ed was revived. It was not supposed to be the day that Stede died and killed all chances of Ed ever managing to survive.

[satineainsel]

Our favorite Heartrender husbands drink cocoa on a cold winter’s day.

Inspired by True North, set in the same universe between the Chapters 21 & 22 (because I have not watched S2 yet) but not necessary to read that to understand. It's hot chocolate fluff.

[jessikast]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Audio Format: Streaming, Demon Summoning, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Nudity, Swearing, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Rescue, Audio Format: MP3, Embedded Audio, Download Available Summary:

Podfic

Warlock, in a brief and questionable life choice, agrees to help with a demon summoning ritual.

You'll never guess who he manages to summon.

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

[seriouslycalamitous]

Officially just posted the 100th fic under the Parkour Civilization tag on ao3! Celebration time!

Title: Knife In My Back

4.6K Words

Late Night Conversations, Seavbo AU

Link

[crit20art]

On the eve of The Unknowing, Jon and Martin find comfort in each other's arms.

Rating: E

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Pairing: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood

Words: 18k (complete)

Tags: first kiss, first time, porn with feelings, angst and porn, trans Martin, ace Jon

Excerpt:

“Martin,” Jon says, frail. Martin blinks, a flick of lashes, glazing his eyes gold in the low light. Jon squeezes his hands. “This- this might be the last—” “Oh, come on,” Martin huffs, dropping his eyes. “Jon- don’t— Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Don’t-” Martin bites his lip, but not before Jon’s seen it quiver. The patchy hair dusting his neck—would it be prickly against Jon’s skin?—undulates, throat in turmoil beneath. “Come on,” Martin says again, a plea. Jon closes his eyes, and the energy in his body buzzes all the brighter. He furrows his brow. Exhales. “So, I waited too long.” Sudden and sharp, Martin’s hands clench. It startles Jon’s eyes open. “Of course not,” Martin says, a rush. “God, I just—” he laughs, utterly vacant of joy, “it’s just- it’s shit timing, isn’t it?”

Read here on Ao3! (18+ only!!!)

[danny-phantom-slut]

heavy is the crown (12k)

A rewrite of Season 2, Episode 5, Reign Storm.

Phantom wins the throne through trial by combat.

Danny was in the middle of English class, head down on his desk in the back of the room, trying to hide from Dash and Kwan (it wasn’t his fault they were after his ass – well, okay, maybe it was his fault, because he’s the one that played multiple pranks on them, but still!), when he felt something in his core shudder. It felt like a wave – a tsunami, really – of ectoplasmic energy slamming into his core. Danny froze and tensed up for a few seconds, gripping his pencil so hard that it snapped, damn his ghostly strength. Then the moment passed, and the energy was gone. Danny immediately looked up, startling Star, who sat next to him. She gave him and his pencil a dirty look, but Danny didn’t pay attention to her. He was too distracted by the foreboding feeling in his core. It wasn’t the typical blue mist that indicated a ghost, but somehow, he knew that a ghost was causing his core to cower.

It was strange. Usually, his core reacted angrily to another ghost coming into his haunt, or it reacted happily to his friends being around, but never had it cowered before. Danny didn’t do fear, he got too much adrenaline from the fighting to even consider being scared.

Unfortunately, it was in that moment that Mr. Lancer called on him to read the part of Sebastian in the “Twelfth Night” by Shakespeare, forcing Danny to actually pay attention to what they were doing in class. Danny sighed as he picked up his book – “act two, scene one, Mr. Fenton,” Mr. Lancer said – and flipped to the required page. His core continued to shudder for a moment, then settled.

Danny started to read in a dead voice, “By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me …”

-

Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray were running as fast as they could – or rather, Danny was keeping pace with Valerie, trying his best to resist the urge to jump into the air and fly away at Mach speed. They both had good reasons for running; Valerie, from her stalker, Nathan; Danny, from Dash and Kwan, whom he had pulled multiple pranks on earlier in the day. Fenton Works was close, but up ahead there was an alleyway that was even closer. Danny and Valerie locked eyes for only a moment before hastily jumping into said alley, pushing each other behind the dumpster that gave prime hiding real estate. Except – there was already someone there. Behind the dumpster sat Sam Manson, one of Danny’s best friends.

All three looked at each other, confused. Danny shoved at Sam to make room for him behind the dumpster, sitting beside her. His recent growth spurt made it hard to pull his lanky legs out of sight, but he managed. Without a word, Sam pointed at Danny, and he shrugged, arms hugged around his legs. “Hiding from Dash.”

Sam pointed at Valerie. “Hiding from Nathan. You?”

Sam only jerked a thumb over at the alley entrance, where her mother, Pamela Manson, ran by. “Sammy-kins!” She screeched; her eyes were wide. She looked around, and Valerie ducked behind the dumpster just in time. Pamela was holding a god-awful looking dress; it was a pastel pink, yellow, and white. It had puffy sleeves, a frilled collar lined with pink hearts, and a ballroom-skirt with lots of pink, frills, and hearts. Pamela looked very distressed. “At least try it on!”

She kept running, going right past their hiding spot.

“Fair enough,” Danny conceded. “But we can’t stay here – my house isn’t far, and we can all hide in it.”

The three of them got up and quickly hauled ass to Fenton Works.

As they ran, Sam frowned over at Danny. “So, what’s up with this?” She asked discreetly, making sure Valerie didn’t hear. “Why are you helping her all of a sudden? After everything she’s done to Phantom?”

Danny knew what Sam was talking about. Valerie had become the Red Huntress in the last month of their freshman year, almost a year after Danny had his accident in the summer before and became Phantom. Ever since getting her ghost hunting suit, Valerie had been relentless in her pursuit of ghosts – and all of it was bad. She absolutely hated all ghosts. The Red Huntress was indiscriminatory and went after both the destructive ghosts, like the Box Ghost, and the local ghostly hero, Phantom. Not to mention that the Red Huntress didn’t care about keeping ghosts safe and alive (heh – alive, ghosts), and that she had the mindset of “tear them apart molecule by molecule,” just like Danny’s parents. So, Danny often had to save the ghosts she went after, only painting him more as a villain in her eyes.

“Well, she helped hide me from Dash earlier,” Danny said, picking his words carefully. He chose not to mention how he may have still held an old candle for Valerie, even after everything that had happened. “I’m just returning the favour. It doesn’t need to mean anything.”

“Well, just be careful,” Sam whispered, just as they reached the steps to Fenton Works. “The last thing you’d want to do is invite your arch enemy into your own house.”

-

His arch enemy was inside his house.

His father’s hulking figure, dressed in a neon orange and black hazmat suit, sat over a small chess table, his features frowning down at the pieces. For as much as Jack Fenton was a genius when it came to engineering, he was not very bright in other aspects of life – case in point, chess. His sister, Jazz, sat on the sofa reading a book on psychology. Her bright orange hair was pushed back with a teal headband that matched her pants. And his mother, Maddie Fenton, stood above both; she was wearing her teal hazmat suit with her red goggles pulled up over her eyes. She held a teapot in one hand, with her other hand on her hip. She glared down at …

Vlad Masters, otherwise known as the halfa Vlad Plasmius, Danny’s self-proclaimed arch nemesis.

Vlad sat across from Jack, hand on his rook, as he turned to face Danny at the door. “Ah! Hello, Daniel!”  He grinned maliciously; his voice way too chipper for all the devious deeds Danny knew he’d done before.

“Too late,” Sam muttered.

“You!” Danny said. “What are you doing here?”

His mother, who didn’t like Vlad anymore than Danny did, and was actually quite obvious in her dislike, ‘accidentally’ poured hot tea onto Vlad’s crotch. Vlad cried out in pain. Maddie narrowed her eyes behind her goggles. “Totally valid question, Danny.”

“Still steaming!” Vlad said, voice cracking.

“You have no idea,” Maddie growled out.

Vlad looked appropriately cowed, up until Maddie left the room, and he turned back to Danny with a smirk. Danny didn’t like that look on his face. “I was just, you know, passing through. And then I saw that marvelous battle suit –” Danny remembered the Fenton Ecto Skeleton his parents were working on, and just how powerful of a weapon it would be … if it actually worked “– and thought, since I can’t just destroy Jack and take it, I suppose I’ll steal its secrets right out from under his nose!” He followed up his words by flicking a finger at Jack’s nose, causing Jack to look up in confusion, too stupid to understand the threat.

Vlad and Jack stared at each other for a good long while, until they both burst into laughter at the same time, as if Vlad had just told a funny joke and hadn’t threatened Jack’s livelihood. They held onto each other like they were good friends and not estranged college classmates.

“Oh, I swear,” Vlad laughed, “I am such a joker! More tea, please?” Maddie poured the tea over Vlad’s head, not even pretending for it to be an accident, and Vlad cried out, “not there, oh!”

Maddie swiftly left the room, along with Jack, who followed her, looking lost.

Danny was quick to jump on Vlad now that his parents weren’t in the room. He got in Vlad’s face. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Vlad, but – well, no, actually, I do know. You literally just told everyone your plans. You’re going to try to steal the Fenton Ecto Skeleton.”

“That’s right!” Vlad snapped, “and say a word about it, and I’ll share your little … secret. I’m sure mom and dad would love to know their son is a freak and – ah, the young Miss Gray.” It was only then that Vlad seemed to notice Valerie standing behind Danny. Vlad’s eyes sparked red for a split second, so quickly that if you blinked, you would have missed it, thinking it was just a trick of the light.

Valerie blinked. “You know me?”

“How do you know her?” Danny demanded, feeling protective.

Just then, there was a loud beeping sound, coming from the bust of Jack Fenton on their fireplace mantle. The eyes kept flashing red as a warning. Jack rushed over to the bust, flipped the head up, and pressed the giant red button underneath. Above the mantle, the TV flickered to life, showing a black screen with “GHOST ZONE RADAR” written in bright red on the top, with a neon green grid below. In the middle of the grid was a giant green swirl, and in the corner, little ghost icons slowly encroached on the middle. It was obviously some sort of map – something anti-ghost that his parents had once again created. Danny had thought the bust was stupid when his father first created it, thinking it nothing but a conceited self-portrait – in the same way his father had to name everything “Fenton” such and such – but now it put him on edge. He hadn’t known it was actually some sort of anti-ghost tool.

“Galloping goblins!” Jack exclaimed, staring with wide eyes at the screen. “It’s the Ecto Exodus Alarm!”

“The Ecto what?!” Danny asked – no, demanded. He needed to know if this was something dangerous, something that could harm him or other ghosts. Behind him, his sister and friends seemed just as confused and concerned. Fenton inventions weren’t exactly known for working well …

“The Ecto Exodus Alarm,” Maddie repeated, looking just as frazzled as Jack, “or the EEA. It’s an alarm we attached to the sensors on the ghost portal, which are linked to this map on the screen. That right there –” she pointed to the green swirl “– is our ghost portal. And that –” she pointed to the ghost blob icons “– are the ghosts. The alarm can sense when large amounts of powerful, sentient ectoplasm encroach on the portal – and it’s only supposed to go off if we’re about to face a massive ghost invasion!”

Danny immediately looked over at Sam and Jazz. “Stall them!” He hissed, then he was off, running downstairs to the Fenton Ghost Portal.

-

Danny ran downstairs, pushing off the last step and doing a front-flip, transforming mid-air. Familiar blinding white halos flickered into existence at his waist, splitting apart and traveling up and down his body. His skin faded into a light shade of blue, his eyes flashed an ectoplasm green, and his hair was shocked white and started to float. His ears elongated into points, his canines sharpened into fangs, and his freckled started glowing and moving like the constellations. His clothes morphed into his iconic black and white hazmat suit; his boots a glowing white, and his gloves making room for his claws.

Phantom’s core pulsed excitedly, eager to face the ghosts (he couldn’t help it, fighting was just in his ghostly nature), making the room drop several degrees. Adrenaline was already flowing. Right before his feet hit the ground, he automatically started to float in the air, the natural state of ghosts.

Phantom sped toward the portal to try to shut it off before any ghosts could get through, but he was too late. A ghost flew out of the portal, a blur of blue and white, barreling into Phantom, pushing them further into the room … but it was just the Box Ghost. Phantom got up off the floor and reached for the Fenton Thermos at his waist, already laughing.

“BEWARE!” The Box Ghost shouted.

“Oh, Ancients,” Phantom said, chuckling. “It was just you?”

Just then, a bright green beam came out of the ghost portal, hitting Phantom and knocking him back several feet. He was still looking down when a large metal boot slammed in front of him, and Phantom looked up, only to see – “Skulker?” Phantom gasped.

But Skulker didn’t even look at Phantom.

“I told you there was a way out through here,” Skulker said. He turned to face the portal. Behind him, through the swirling green ectoplasm of the ghost portal, multiple heads popped out. Phantom recognised some of them – Ember, Lunch Lady, Walker – and some of them he didn’t recognise – ghost eels, ghost demons, and ectopuses. They all had one thing in common – they all looked scared. Skulker grimaced. “Now, save yourself – go, go, go, go!”

They didn’t need anymore direction. The ghosts all immediately left the poral – not just Phantom’s usual rogue gallery, but hundreds of unidentifiable ghosts, ghost animals, and even blob ghosts. They shot out of the portal like there was something chasing them.

Behind Phantom, he heard his parents cries as they got closer.

They could not see Phantom and these ghosts in their basement, or they would lose it.

Phantom grabbed onto Skulker, turned them intangible, and shot them up through the roof. As soon as they were in the sky and alone, Phantom turned to face Skulker, fists at the ready. “Now, what in the hell is going on –”

Someone grabbed onto his fists, holding him back, and Phantom looked up, surprised. He came face to face with Dora in her dragon form, with Sidney Pointdexter sitting on her back. Sidney frowned down at Phantom. “Phantom, I know this might sound a little fishy, but Skulker isn’t the bully here. Not this time.”

“Bully?” Phantom exclaimed. He backed off, floating a few feet away from Skulker. “What are you talking about? What is going on – what are all you guys running from?”

From the densely packed group of ghosts crowding the sky, Ember floated out. She strummed her guitar, creating a foreboding melody. “His name … is Pariah Dark,” Ember said. “The Ghost King and ruler of the Infinite Realms. Somehow, he’s escaped from the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and he’s angry. He’s searching for something – but we don’t know what. He declared the entire Ghost Zone as his, though, and that’s why we needed to escape.”

“Pariah Dark? I’ve never heard of him before,” Phantom said. “How could one ghost chase out thousands of other ghosts? He’s just one person.”

“You misunderstand,” Skulker growled. “Pariah Dark is not just ‘one person.’ He is the Ghost King, in possession of the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire. With both, he has near limitless power. He existed long before all the other ghosts in the Ghost Zone even spawned, and he will exist long after we have all faded. He used to run his kingdom with an iron fist, until the Ancients decided he was a tyrant. It took all of them teaming up to finally seal him away in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep – and now he’s escaped!”

“The – the Ancients had to team up to defeat him?” Phantom thought about the sheer power Clockwork, the Ancient of Time held, just on his own, and then imagined that tenfold. And even that had barely been enough to defeat this ‘Pariah Dark’ guy? His throat ran dry.

“Yes, and now he’s really angry, and really powerful,” Ember said.

“You said he was searching for something – what? Maybe if we give it to him, he’ll leave the rest of you guys alone?” Phantom said, grasping for straws. “Because you guys cannot stay in the Living Realms. It’s not safe for you guys – not with my parents and Val – er, the Red Huntress around.”

“You think if we knew we would be here right now?” Sidney demanded. “Pariah Dark is just a big bully – even if we gave him what he wanted, he would just go back to being a tyrant.”

“Well, you guys can’t stay here –”

As if to prove his point, an ecto blast shot past him right at that moment, almost clipping his shoulder. Phantom immediately flew to the side to dodge the other incoming blasts. He glanced down at the ground, spotting his parents. Jack had a Fenton Bazooka hooked over his shoulder, and Maddie held an anti-ghost net, ready to throw it down over any unsuspecting ghosts that got close by. Phantom’s core shuddered angrily – how dare they try to hurt his rogues?

“Scatter!” Phantom yelled.

All the ghosts listened immediately, rogue or not.

-

“So, the equipment is to your liking? It functions properly, does it?”

Vlad sat on the edge of the building beside the young Miss Gray, who was dressed in her hunting suit and floating on her hoverboard. After the Ecto Exodus Alarm went off, it was easy to snatch the girl’s backpack while she was distracted, essentially cutting her off from her ghost hunting equipment. From there, he only needed to reveal that he was the one who gave it to her – providing information that only one who created the suit would know to prove it – and to share his “ghost-hunting” inclination to get the girl to trust him. From there, he gave the ghost hunting equipment back and convinced the girl to fly them out of Fenton Works to somewhere a bit more … private.

“Heck yeah!” Valerie exclaimed. She folded her hoverboard up back into her suit, sitting down beside Vlad and dangling her feet over the edge of the building. “It’s like you designed it just for me!” Then she paused, as if realising how creepy that was. “… Why would you do that? I’m like, fifteen.”

Vlad smiled – a soft thing, with wide eyes. “Why, Miss Gray, you’re the most capable ghost hunter I’ve ever seen! You’re smart, you’re fast, you’re strong, and most importantly – you’re motivated.”

“Really?”

It was like luring flies in with the sickly-sweet smell of the venus fly trap. Now he just had to close the claws before she could fly away. Vlad put on the charm, chuckling as he spoke. “Of course! Why else would I say such a thing? I’d have to be some sort of … diabolical villain to manipulate you like that!” Valerie stared at him for a moment, as if unsure about the joke. Then she started to giggle, and Vlad joined in. Together, they laughed heartily. Finally, she was in his trap. And now, to finish the plan … “And, my dear, it’s the reason I can trust you with this …”

Vlad put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a ring.

But not just any ring – it was the Ring of Rage.

It looked like a ghostly signet ring – it was a bright neon green, made of crystallised ectoplasm, and on the broad side was black obsidian, with an emerald inset skull engraved in the stone. The ring was magically enchanted to fit the finger of every person who came in possession of it, as well as giving a power boost to any ectoplasmic entity that owned it. The only nasty side effect was that it could also enhance the emotions of the wearer, sometimes causing emotional – and wrathful – outbursts.

Valerie stared down at it in confusion. “A … ring?”

“Not just any ring!” Vlad lied. “It’s a ring from my family, and it’s been passed down from ghost hunter to ghost hunter for generations. Made of the very ectoplasm that ghosts are made of, it’s virtually indestructible, so no nasty ghosts can ruin it.”

“I … don’t know what to say,” Valerie said, eyes now wide.

“Don’t say anything, dear – but please, let’s keep it our secret, hmm? We wouldn’t want anyone else to find out and try to take it from us, would we?” Vlad asked. He slipped the ring on her finger, grinning.

Valerie nodded. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Masters!”

Vlad chuckled darkly. “I’m sure you won’t.”

-

Deep within the ghost zone lay Pariah Dark’s keep. Once upon a time, it used to be a large castle surrounded by acres and acres of land, with a whole kingdom standing on the island. But after the battle between the Ancients and Pariah Darm, during which Pariah was trapped in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, the Ancients destroyed the area surrounding the castle, scared of the power and wealth Pariah had built up. The buildings and land surrounding the castle crumbled, leaving Pariah’s Keep isolated on its own small island in the Ghost Zone.

That didn’t mean it was now unimpressive, however. Pariah’s Keep was still a large concentric castle, well put together and not crumbling, resembling one castle nestled inside the other. It looked like something straight out of the middle ages, with a moat and everything.

Inside said Keep stood hundreds and hundreds of ghost skeleton soldiers, all dressed for battle and war. They all floated inches off the ground and glowed an ectoplasmic neon green, gnashing their fangs in excitement. At the head of these soldiers stood Fright Knight, an ancient and powerful ghost, the spirit of Halloween, and the Ghost King’s second in command. He had large and muscled body, adorned with black and grey full-body armour. His faced was obscured by a black helmet with a mohawk of spikes on top, which was only accentuated by the flaming purple hair and cape and flaming grey gauntlets. It was paired with his ectoplasmic sword called Soul Shredder, which had the ability to make ghosts fade.

A ruthless knight, Fright Knight was known to strike fear into the hearts of anyone he went against.

At the very front of the group of skeleton soldiers stood three unique ghost skeletons. One wore typical Roman armour, with a gladius at its side. Another wore a World War II uniform. The last one wore clothing typical of the Vikings, paired with a Viking helm and long braids. All had vicious fangs and canines, glowing red eyes, and long claws. They were the generals of the skeleton army.

“Your armies are amassed?” Fright Knight asked. The three skeleton generals all saluted Fright Knight, silent but sure. Fright Knight grinned. “Then, on my orders –”

“On my orders,” a loud, booming voice said from behind.

Fright Knight spun around, surprised. Fright Knight was a looming eight feet tall, but Pariah Dark absolutely towered over the Fright Knight at almost twenty feet tall. Pariah was a large, well-built ghost, with a white face outlined by a red helmet. He wore an eye-patch over his left eye and had a scare over his right. Pariah also had a gorgeous mane of long, green hair, and a braided green beard. He had two grey horns on either side of his head, the left of which was broken. His outfit consisted of black full-body armour, with grey shoulder guards, boots, and gauntlets, and he had a green belt with a metallic circular buckle with a green skull in the middle. At his waist was his sword, Reaper, which had the power of absorbing ghostly cores to enhance his power. And on his head sat the Crown of Fire, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. It was made of crystallised ectoplasm infused with the power of Pariah’s core, lighting it on fire eternally. It was supposed to be paired with the Ring of Rage, which would have sat on his left-hand ring finger, but …

“Go to that world,” Pariah demanded, baring his razor-sharp teeth, “bring the Ring of Rage to me, and to those that stand in your way – show them no mercy!”

-

“Dude, you okay?” Tucker asked, looking concerned. In the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria, Danny looked dead … well, deader than usual. His features were gaunt, skin impossibly pale, with large circles under his eyes. Danny gave Tucker a deadpan stare, and Tucker blushed. “Sorry, standard question. Late night?”

“Of course, it was a late night. Every ghost I know – and about a million I don’t – are loose in the Living Realm and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it, because apparently, they’ve been kicked out of the Ghost Zone by some maniac Ghost King who wants the entire Zone to himself! And instead of having to fight them, I had to protect them from my parents all night, who were trying to capture them for experimenting!” Danny exclaimed, getting more and more frustrated as he went on. He threw his hands out in helplessness. “Not to mention, I couldn’t sleep because my arch enemy was in the guest room next to me.”

“My parents sleep in the bedroom next to me,” Sam offered. At Danny’s glare, she shrugged. “I mean, it’s not the same, but I can’t sleep either.”

Danny was about to retort – no, it was not the same thing at all, especially since Sam didn’t need to worry about her parents ripping her apart molecule by molecule – when behind him, he heard: “Oh hey, Danny.”

Danny immediately plastered a smile across his face, just for the sake of things. “Hey, Val.”

“‘Hey, Val’?” Tucker repeated, looking unimpressed. He turned to Sam, jerking a finger over at Valerie. “Isn’t that the same ‘Val’ who’s usually on a jet sled trying to kill Danny?”

“Yup,” Sam said, voice sarcastic, “and apparently, next week, we’re having cookies with Skulker!”

“You might want to … uh, bag-lunch-it outside,” Valerie said, looking concerned for something Danny couldn’t fathom. She, too, didn’t look too good that day. She had large bags under her eyes, her hair was frizzy, and her outfit seemed ill put-together, as if she hadn’t had time to look at what she was putting on before leaving the house. One thing that struck Danny as odd was the green and black ring she wore – Valerie had never been one to wear jewelry, even when popular. But then Valerie started speaking again, distracting Danny. “This isn’t exactly the safest place for you right now.”

“What makes you say that?” Danny asked, confused.

Just then, he felt two large presences approach behind him. Danny sighed.

“Hey, Fenturd!” Dash said, grinning down at Danny maliciously. His stupid blond hair was styled perfectly with gel, and he wore his football jacket, like he did the other three-hundred-sixty-five days of the year. “Guess what? There are no teachers around to protect you now.”

“Dash, take a hike, will you?” Danny snapped. His core pulsed angrily, wanting to freeze the jock in a block of ice – but that was a big no-no. Not if he wanted to keep his identity as Phantom a secret, and if he wanted to stay as a hero instead of a villain. When Dash didn’t budge, Danny frowned. He resisted the urge to bare his fangs. “I’m way too tired to put up with you! Besides, shouldn’t you be failing a test, kicking a puppy, or beating up someone weaker than you right now?”

“Come to think of it? Yeah! And guess what? You’re weaker than me!”

Dash went to throw a punch, but at the last minute, Danny went intangible, letting the fist fly right through his chin. Dash stumbled from the motion of the punch, not expecting to not hit anything. For a solid few seconds, everyone in the cafeteria stood stalk still. Dash looked down at his fist like there was something wrong with it. While everyone was distracted, Danny discreetly shot an ecto-beam at Dash’s shoes. Ectoplasm had highly acidic properties, was extremely corrosive and, at high enough temperatures – like, per say, a ghost’s ecto-blast – could melt things. Danny’s ecto-beam easily melted the plastic of Dash’s shoes to the ground. Luckily, no one noticed.

When Dash finally regained his wits, he growled. “Oh, that’s it, Fenturd!”

But when he went to take a step forward, his shoes stuck to the tiles, making him trip and fall to the ground. Danny was quick to take his chance, and he ran away from the cafeteria while Dash was incapacitated. Behind him, his friends ran after him. They only came to a stop once they reached the bleachers in the back fields, far enough away – and hidden behind the bleachers – for no one to see them.

“That was sweet!” Tucker said, out of breath from running after Danny.

“Is it?” Sam asked, putting her hands on her hips. She, too, was slightly out of breath. Danny rolled his eyes, his core sending out static annoyance. They’d already had this argument before; Sam didn’t believe in Danny using his powers for anything other than hero work, but Danny tried to get her to understand that he was literally a ghost – or, well, half-ghost – and that using his powers casually, even for mischief (especially for mischief) was in his ghostly nature. “I know Dash is a jerk, but what if he saw something?”

“He’s not going to see something,” Danny dismissed. “If no one has noticed anything for the past year and a half, no one is going to notice anything now. Besides, I’m tired of getting kicked around all the time. It’s time I do something for myself!”

Sam’s expression twisted into something Danny couldn’t read, but Danny wasn’t willing to argue with her about this, so he turned away.

-

The large ghost had commanded the skeleton ghosts to “find the King’s ring,” whatever that meant. Ghosts were always doing insensible things, courtesy of their cores and obsessions driving them to far extremes. They just weren’t capable of higher, intelligent thought. Besides, Maddie was too busy trying to get Jack out of the Fenton Ecto Skeleton pants to focus on what the ghosts were looking for. The Fenton Ecto Skeleton pants, which were draining Jack of his energy, using him as a battery to charge the machine. It was a scary thought, being a battery and potentially being burned out.

If only there were some other sources of energy, something that was naturally occurring and had large amounts of power – like a ghost’s core! Hmm …

-

The army of mindless ghost skeletons swarmed Amity Park. They marched through the streets, throwing and breaking cars, cutting fire hydrants, pulling parking meters, crashing storefronts, and causing immeasurable property damage. They searched through apartments, stores, and more. They even chased after humans, determined to find their King’s Ring of Rage.

“Those poor humans,” Sidney Pointdexter said. He was hiding out on the roof of one of the many apartment buildings in Amity Park. He turned the gaggle of ghosts behind him, who didn’t look nearly as concerned as him. “They’re being overrun by ghost bullies!”

“Oh, who cares about them!” Ember scoffed. “That is the Ghost King’s crew, which means he’s on his way here! And did you hear what Fright Knight said? They’re looking for his ring!”

“A ring that we do not have,” Skulker said. “Which means when Pariah Dark comes through that portal, he will not hesitate to set Fright Knight on us, whether we have what he wants or not. So, we have to camouflage ourselves.” He turned to the streets of Amity Park, where a hoard of humans was running from the ghost skeletons. He grinned. “And you hear that? That’s confusion and panic, which means it’s the perfect time to find our hiding places.”

Behind him, the ghosts smiled.

-

The screen showed a pretty woman with orange hair and teal eyes, dressed in a pink dress with matching earrings. She shuffled her papers in front of her, professional as always, despite her shaking hands. “Hello, this is Tiffany Snow, with Action News! And tonight, we are covering the Ghost Emergency Broadcasting System, or the GEBS. Amity Park is in the midst of a massive ghost attack! Sources say that while the attacks have been happening for over several hours, and there has been numerous property damage –” the screen showed multiple ghost skeletons flipping a car over, and other clips from the news station “– no humans have been seriously harmed. There are no reported injuries or fatalities. And now here’s Lance Thunder, with the ghost weather.”

“As you can see, we have random ghost activities in restaurants, malls, and this box store.” Action News showed a brief clip of the Box Ghost haunting the box store, shouting “BEWARE!” at any approaching humans, but running at the sight of the ghost skeletons. “If you look to the West, you can see a huge wave of ghost skeletons heading from the center of town toward Casper High. All parents are advised to immediately pick up their children and run – run for your lives! No! NO –”

Maddie gasped as she saw the news reporter overrun by ghost skeletons in their news station.

No injuries or fatalities, her ass.

She needed to go get Danny and Jazz – right away!

-

What was Plasmius doing in the school? Was Danny’s only thought when he first saw him.

He was quick to escape from his friends and the rest of the student body by running into a janitor’s closet and transforming into Phantom. The familiar white halos appeared within seconds, and Phantom turned intangible and flew through the school, chasing after Plasmius, all the way to the football field. When Plasmius finally landed and stopped, Phantom bared his fangs and readied an ecto-blast. “What do you want, Plasmius?” He demanded. He knew he could kick Plasmius’ ass ten ways to Sunday if he wanted to – and man, did he want to – but right now, he needed answers.

“Calm down, Phantom!” Plasmius scolded. “I didn’t come here to fight you; I have other things to worry about!”

The sound of a horse, and the stomping of hundreds of feet, interrupted the two. Both turned, eyes wide, as they saw Fright Knight riding atop a black horse with large, bat-like wings. It had massive canines, like a sabre-tooth tiger, and had glowing red eyes. Behind it came a rushing skeleton army, all dressed in a mix of modern military uniforms, Roman armour, and Viking-esque armour.

Fright Knight plowed through the football field on his ghostly pegasus, wielding Soul Shredder. Phantom knew full well what the sword could do – and how it could made ghosts fade – so he dodged immediately, flipping away through the air as Fright Knight swung the six-foot long blade. Unfortunately, the football goal post was in the way, and was easily cut in two. Phantom landed on the ground, ducking and rolling, and jumped back up right in front of several ghost skeletons. He was quick to shoot a powerful ecto-blast at the first one, then punched the next one that got too close. It went down like a sack of potatoes, the bones collapsing in on themselves. A blue mist escaped from his mouth, and he turned just in time to see the sword of a Viking ghost skeleton coming down – only for a pink ecto-blast to destroy it, saving Phantom.

Phantom turned to Plasmius, who had shot the ecto-blast. He was baffled. “You’re helping me?”

Before Plasmius could say anything, he was grabbed by the front of his suit by Fright Knight, lifted off the ground. Plasmius may have been six feet tall, but Fright Knight was eight – and atop a horse. Fright Knight growled. “The King’s ring – return it!” He demanded.

Ring – they were looking for a ring? Phantom knew about Pariah Dark from the other ghosts, but they had originally not known what Pariah was looking for. Was he really causing all this fuss for a ring?

“I don’t have it!” Plasmius snapped. “But, if you join me, perhaps we could –”

Just then, a large red ectoplasmic blast shot at Plasmius and the Fright Knight, effectively knocking Fright Knight off his horse and Plasmius several feet behind. From the sky, the Red Huntress descended on her hoverboard, carrying her blaster over her shoulder. “Guess what everybody?” She yelled, “the best ghost hunter in Amity Park is here! And that means you’re –” she pointed to the ghosts “– about to get your ass handed to you!”

Plasmius staggered to his feet, whispering to Phantom, “she really is quite good at this.”

“She also thinks we’re the enemy!” Phantom hissed.

“… Good point,” Plasmius said.

The Red Huntress swerved down to the field, hovering in front of Phantom. She aimed her blaster directly at him. “Alright, ghost,” she spat, as if talking to him physically disgusted her. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s, uh, kind of hard to explain right now!” Phantom said. “Wait, look out –”

The Fright Knight got up and was back on his pegasus, charging straight toward Phantom and the Red Huntress. The skeleton ghost army followed behind him. Before they could get too close, Plasmius shot up and made multiple duplicates of himself, using them to shoot down the incoming skeletons. He protected Phantom and the Huntress. The Red Huntress, though her mask covered her face, still looked visibly confused. “Uh … thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Phantom said. He floated out of line of her blaster. “Look, I know this is going to be hard to believe –” behind him, Plasmius was body-tackled by Fright Knight “– but right now, that guy is the problem right now, not Plasmius. And I could really use your help to get rid of him.”

“I still don’t trust you,” the Red Huntress said, “Or your spooky friend.”

“You don’t have to trust me!” Phantom yelled, “just fight with me! Or else the entire Living Realm is going to be overrun with ghosts and a rabid Ghost King forever!”

Phantom held out his hand for the Huntress to shake, and after a moment of hesitation, she took it.

Phantom grinned.

Together, the two flew in to save Plasmius. Phantom shot multiple quick-fire ecto-blasts, while the Red Huntress used her blaster. The Fright Knight was pushed back several feet by all the blasts, and the unlikely team – two halfas and a ghost hunter – continued to fight. They must have taken out hundreds of ecto-skeletons, with Phantom and Plasmius focusing solely on the Fright Knight, making sure Soul Shredder didn’t hit anyone, before Fright Knight seemed to finally snap. “You fools!” He growled. “All I wanted to do was seize the Ring of Rage and return to Pariah Dark’s Keep. But now you give me no choice. By the authority vested in me by my King –” Fright Knight took Soul Shredder and stabbed it into the ground, until only three feet of the blade was left in the open “– I claim this town, now and forever under the banner of Pariah Dark, the King of all Ghosts!”

From the blade, an ectoplasmic green light shot upward into the sky, changing the skyline to greens of the Ghost Zone. Amity Park shook as if under attack from an earthquake. Cracks appeared in the ground, surrounding the entire town, and all the skeleton ghosts stopped moving. A huge, green-like dome descended upon Amity Park, separating it from the outside world. Then, finally, Fright Knight stood before Soul Shredder and spoke. “The sword is sunk, the die now cast. The sword removed shall signal fast, make reappear the ring thou hast, or your next day shall be your last.” And with that, Fright Knight disappeared into thin air.

“Again, with the ring!” Phantom said. “Where is this ring he’s talking about?!”

He glanced over at Plasmius, suspicious.

Plasmius only shrugged with a small smile.

Phantom’s eyes narrowed.

-

On the screen sat the pretty woman from before. Her hands were no longer shaking, probably from the fact that she was in a new studio and away from the ghost skeletons. “Welcome back, to the big scary town watch! Otherwise known as Ghost Emergency Broadcasting. I’m Tiffany Snow! We’re in our fourth hour of captivity, and tenth hour of ghost invasion. Amity Park remains cut-off from the outside world. With more on that, outside the safety of our studio is our very own weatherman, Lance Thunder! Lance?”

The station cut to a view of the outskirts of the dome, with Lance Thunder in front of the camera. His blond hair was styled perfectly once again, clearly having been fixed since being overrun by ghosts. His suit, however, was still rumpled from earlier.

Lance didn’t seem to realise he was on air yet.

“Why the hell do I have to be here, I’m a weatherman, for the love of – oh!” Lance finally noticed the person behind the camera making cutting motions with their hands. He plastered a wide smile on his face. “Tiffany! Despite the odd circumstances, an eerie calm has fallen over Amity Park, with the ghost skeletons having stopped attacking. Unfortunately, emergency teams are still having no luck in piercing the dome surrounding Amity Park.” Behind him, there was a giant metal drill, with several volunteers in hazmat suits manning the machine. They attempted to drill through the dome, but it only sparked and made the drill blow up, causing the volunteers to run away, screaming. “It seems to be made of some sort of electrically charged ectoplasm, which is why everyone is advised to stay away from the outer edges of the dome, lest they be shocked or hurt. Wishing he had taken that job in Chicago, this is Lance Thunder, Action News, out!”

Danny and Valerie, who had been watching the news on the Fenton TV, turned to each other with matching looks of concern. They were currently hunkered down in the basement of Fenton Works, with carbon-steel enforced metal walls and anti-ghost tools up the wazoo. If there was anywhere safe to be in a ghost invasion, then this was it.

Behind the two teenagers, Maddie and Vlad worked tirelessly to finish the Fenton Ecto Skeleton. Even Vlad, who usually wore pristine suits and had his hair gelled back, was now wearing overalls and work boots, and his hair was pulled back in a high bun to keep it out of his face. Jack would have been helping his wife and friend, if he hadn’t still been too drained and ill from using the Fenton Ecto Skeleton pants earlier, protecting Maddie and Vlad from Fright Knight. The pants had literally drained the strength and energy from his body to charge the suit, and he was paying the price.

“This suit is the only hope we have to punch through that ghost dome,” Maddie said, welding a piece of the suit together. She took a step back to admire her work, and she pulled her goggles up and over her head to reveal her blue, almost purple eyes. “But I still don’t think we’ll be able to perfect the neural receptors. The suit simply needs a lot of energy, and we don’t have a battery powerful enough to substitute.”

“Which is why I’ll wear the suit,” Jack said. He was sitting over by a lab work bench, ice pack on his head to ease his raging migraine. “If anybody is going to beat that ghost back into the Ghost Zone, it’s me!”

He stood, as if making a point, but almost immediately became dizzy. He groaned.

“No, Jack!” Maddie scolded. “Look at you! You’re still wiped out from the last time!”

Danny grinned as he leaned over to whisper to Vlad, who was still under the Fenton Ecto Skeleton, tinkering with the bolts. “It kills you, doesn’t it? How much they love each other?”

“I have other things to worry about!” Vlad snapped. “And … so do you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Vlad was already turning back to the suit to tinker some more.

-

Valerie decided to get away from … whatever weirdly charged tension was between Danny and Vlad and headed back upstairs in Fenton Works. In the living room, though it was scattered with open wires, various ecto-guns, and had ectoplasm stains everywhere, it was still a somewhat cosy place, if only because the furniture was all over two decades old, there were multiple blankets, and the TV was one of those old box television sets from the seventies.

Still hurt from the ghost fight earlier against – what was it Phantom called him? Fright Knight? – Valerie was quick to take a seat on the couch in from of the TV, sighing into the soft cushions. Sam and Tucker were also in the living room – when were they not at Fenton Works or around Danny? – and Tucker looked over at her, concerned. “You feeling any better?” He asked.

“A little,” Valerie admitted, “though I’m surprised you care.” And she was surprised. Sam and Tucker seemed to hold a grudge against her since day one. “You guys don’t like me very much, do you?”

“Well, we don’t know you very much,” Sam said snidely. She crossed her arms, frowning; Tucker also looked over Valerie with a critical eye. “And honestly, you used to be pretty mean to us when you were still hanging out with the A-listers, like Paulina and Dash. You think we’re going to just start hanging out with you without wondering what you want? And what you’re going to do with that obviously ecto-infused ring?”

“What I want?” Valerie asked. “I don’t want anything from you guys. And the ring officially falls under the category of none of your –”

Before she could finish, Danny skipped up the steps behind them, almost like he was flying. He smiled when he saw Valerie, and Valerie smiled back at him. She couldn’t help it – he was cute! With his tousled black hair and baby blue eyes, anyone would think he was adorable. “Hey, guys!”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. She leapt off the couch to storm up to Danny, grabbing him by the forearm. “Can I talk to you for a second?” She asked, before not even listening to him and dragging him off to the nearest closet. On the way, she also grabbed Tucker. She locked eyes with Valerie, right before slamming the closet door closed behind her, cutting Valerie off from the group.

Valerie glared after her.

-

In the closet, Sam turned the light on, so at least two of the three could see something. Danny didn’t need it because he was a ghost, and ghosts could naturally see things in the dark. All three sat in a cramped circle, surrounded by spare hazmat suits and winter boots.

“Yo, dude!” Tucker said, almost immediately. “You do know that the minute you turn into Phantom, she’s going to shoot first and ask questions never, right?”

“She’s not going to find out!” Danny dismissed.

“How do you know she’s not snooping right now?” Sam demanded. She leaned in, worried. “What if that ecto ring on her finger is some sort of ghost detection device?”

“Wait – ring? What ring?” Sam only rolled her eyes and pointed at the door. Danny turned intangible and invisible and peeked his head out from the closet, spying on Valerie, who was still sitting on the couch and watching the news on their older-than-dinosaurs television set. He spotted a green and black ring on her finger, and with his enhanced vision, he was able to see the green skull carved into the obsidian gem. If he focused, he could feel the strong power of ectoplasm leaking from the ring. He didn’t know how he didn’t notice before. Suddenly, he remembered seeing the same ring on her before, in the cafeteria of Casper High. It had struck him as odd, because Valerie didn’t wear jewelry – at least not usually.

Danny pulled himself back into the closet and turned visible again. “Oh, man. We have a problem. I think that’s the ring that the Fright Knight is looking for! But I just don’t know how she could have gotten her hands on it, unless … Vlad must have given it to her!”

“Isn’t Vlad a little old for her?” Tucker joked.

“He’s obviously using her to hide the ring from Fright Knight,” Danny said, slowly piecing everything together. “But why the ring is so important, I don’t know. Something fishy is going on. And I have a feeling that the other ghosts know what is going on.”

-

“Skulker!” Phantom called.

Using his ghost sense to find the other ghosts was usually easy – after all, he only needed to trace the sentient ectoplasm he could sense, and he usually ended up finding whatever ghost it was that was wreaking havoc on Amity Park at the time. But Amity Park was now filled to the brim with hundreds of thousands of ghosts, and paired with the natural ambient ectoplasm that was always present, it was harder to discern the different ectosignatures and find the specific ghost he was looking for. Luckily, he had lots of practice in finding ectosignatures, thanks to all the times he needed to hunt down certain ghosts in the Ghost Zone.

“Skulker!” Phantom called again. The abandoned gun shop was completely trashed, but Phantom knew that Skulker was around, he could sense him. “Skulker! Skulk – Ember? Sidney?”

Phantom’s eyes widened when he took in the gaggle of ghosts in the store. Bullet, Dora, Ember, Klemper, Lunch Lady, Sidney Pointdexter, Technus, Walker – it was like his entire rogue gallery was here. He knew that they all came through the portal together, but he hadn’t known that they had stuck together in the Living Realm. Ghosts were mostly solitary creatures, so it surprised him.

“Phantom,” Sidney said, “we need your help.”

“Only if you tell me what’s going on,” Phantom said, hands on his hips. “And what is this big fuss about a – a ring? That Fright Knight wants.”

“Very well,” Skulker said. “You already know part of the story: it was many years ago, before you, before me – before most of us – that there was a ghost called Pariah Dark. He was the king of both the Ghost Zone and the entire Infinite Realms.” Phantom remembered Skulker saying that before, but even now, he struggled to wrap his head around ruling the entire Infinite Realms. It was, well, infinite, after all. “Pariah ruled with an iron fist alongside his second in command and enforcer, Fright Knight.”

“Another thing you need to know –” Skulker said “– there are many ghostly artifacts that can only be used by ghosts or denizens of the Ghost Zone. One of these artifacts was the Crown of Fire – a crown which was made of crystallised ectoplasm, and which gave the wearer power over other ghosts. With this power, no ghost could refuse any order made while the person wore the crown. Well, they could try, but only the most powerful ghosts – the Ancients – could resist the Voice of the Crown of Fire. The other artifact was the Ring of Rage. Also made of crystallised ectoplasm and obsidian, the Ring of Rage lends the power of the Ghost Zone to the wearer – fueling them with infinite ectoplasm. But it had a nasty side effect of enhancing the emotions of the owner, oftentimes causing emotional – and wrathful – outbursts. Paired together, the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage give the user infinite power. But it is also dangerous, because that infinite power could overtake the core of the user and make them fade.”

“Pariah was a ghost of such power and magnitude alone that he was able to control the energies contained within both artifacts. When wearing both, Pariah could do anything he wanted. He was a tyrant. That was, until a group of powerful ghosts – the Ancients – banded together in a last-ditch effort to defeat the King. They locked him within the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, another powerful ghostly artifact, capable of putting any ghost to sleep for an eternity … or so we thought. Somehow, he escaped. And now he’s wreaking havoc in the Ghost Zone once again.”

“He’s looking for the Ring of Rage,” Ember said, “as you’ve already figured out. Pariah has only been free for a day, and he’s already destroyed our homes.”

“And that’s without the ring,” Phantom summarised, finally seeing just how strong Pariah Dark was. He bit his lip, thinking about what to do next. If Valerie had the ring, that meant that she was going to be a target for Pariah and Fright Knight. But … that must have been exactly what Vlad wanted, to keep the heat off his own back. He needed to get the ring away from Valerie, and quickly. “We can’t let him get the ring back,” Phantom decided. “Somehow, we need to get him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep again. But I’m going to need your guys help to do so.”

“And what, exactly, do you think we can do against a ghost like Pariah?” Skulker demanded.

“Well …”

-

Phantom flew down to the front door of Fenton Works, de-transforming back into Danny mid-air and flipping down to the ground. His skin melted from the icy blue to a sickly pale colour, punctuated by strong freckles across his cheeks and shoulders. His ghostly white hair fell to the power of gravity and became tousled and a night black. His eyes went from their shocking green to a baby blue. His black and white hazmat suit shifted to his usual NASA t-shirt and ripped jeans. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a normal human boy. But both he and Vlad knew otherwise.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Vlad asked, looking smug as he leaned on the Ghost Assault Vehicle, which was parked in front of Fenton Works. He was back in his stupid, pristine suit, hair gelled back obnoxiously.

“You’re putting innocent people in danger,” Danny growled. “It stops – now.”

“Really?” Vlad said, chuckling darkly. He crossed his arms, looming over Danny. “You know what I’m up to? Your tiny teen mind has pieced together the rest of my plot?”

“Yes, it has,” Danny said, not rising to the bait. “I know that you stole the Ring of Rage, woke Pariah Dark from the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, gave the Ring of Rage to Valerie to hide it, and now you’re waiting for your chance to steal it back.”

“That’s pretty good!” Vlad said, as if he was complimenting Danny, but they both knew better. “It’s almost as thought I barely consider you a threat.” Danny felt his core pulse angrily – he was just so angry at how nonchalant Vlad was being about putting so many people in danger – and he knew his eyes were burning a toxic ectoplasm green. Vlad only grinned. “Oh, there’s that temper of yours, again. What are you going to do? What if Valerie sees us, hmm? You wouldn’t want her to know you’re a freak, would you?”

Danny growled. He shot an ecto-blast at the nearby streetlamp, causing the light to shatter and drench the area in pitch dark. Vlad cursed – that was one thing that he hadn’t developed as a halfa that Danny did: night vision. Now with the upper hand, and ensuring no humans could see, Danny shot an ecto-blast at Vlad. It knocked Vlad almost a whole block, enough to land at the next streetlight. Danny jumped and rolled, letting familiar transformation rings slide over his body. His core sparked, eager for the fight to put out his aggression. When he jumped up after his roll, he kicked at Vlad, sending him hundreds of feet into the air, and halfway across the town. Sometimes, ghostly strength helped.

Vlad hit a billboard sign and slid down to the top of a roof, letting his own transformation rings appear, changing him into Plasmius. He floated up from the roof. “Sneak attach – very good, Phantom. You’re getting more like me with every battle.”

“I am nothing like you!” Phantom growled. “I don’t put innocent people in danger!”

He flew upwards and punched Plasmius directly in the sternum, knocking him another few hundred yards away. He hit him so hard, in fact, that Plasmius landed back in the football fields of Casper High School. Phantom flew up to Plasmius and grabbed him by the front of his suit, only for Plasmius to grin at him. Phantom furrowed his brows, until Plasmius spoke. “Oh, you’re not like me? Using your powers to get back at people you don’t like? Throwing the first punch? You’re more like me than you know!”

Plasmius shot an ecto-blast and knocked Phantom across the field. When Phantom got to his feet, however, he realised he was directly next to the Soul Shredder, still stuck in the ground from earlier. He remembered the words from Fright Knight earlier. He frowned.

“Oh, yeah?” He said to Plasmius. “Well, if I’m more like you than I though, then instead of asking you to give the ring to me, I’ll make you!”

He reached out to Soul Shredder, both hands wrapping around the hilt of the giant sword.

“Phantom, no!” Plasmius cried. “The sword is a signal!”

“I know,” Phantom said. And then he pulled the sword free, having to use all his ghostly strength to do so. As soon as the sword came out of the ground, the ghostly green dome that surrounded Amity Park … fell apart. From the centre of the dome, large cracks appeared, until the entire dome looked like a starburst of fractures. The pieces then started to drop, large, crystallised chunks of ectoplasm falling from the sky. But as the pieces fell away, it revealed that the entire town was no longer in the Living Realms, but instead, in the Ghost Zone. The sky was painted many shades of swirling green, random purple and black doors floated about, and the edges of Amity Park dropped off into nothingness.

The ghost skeletons, who had previously been stationary in the streets of Amity Park, now all flew upwards into the Ghost Zone, to congregate at the side of the Fright Knight. And beside Fright Knight … that must have been Pariah Dark. He was twice as big as Fright Knight, adorned in black and grey armour, and wore what was obviously the Crown of Fire atop his head.

Fright Knight held out his hand and though Phantom resisted it, Soul Shredder was pulled from his grasp and shot toward the Fright Knight.

The Ghost King floated gently down to the ground, but when his feet touched the dirt, it cracked and splintered under him, as if the sheer force of him was too much to withstand. Pariah observed Phantom and Plasmius, who had both frozen under his gaze. Pariah tilted his head, as if confused. His eyes glowed a bright red. “You’re not … ghosts. But you’re not, not ghosts, either. Freaks of nature – will there ever be an end to today’s surprises?”

Phantom’s core cowered under the gaze of Pariah Dark.

Then, behind him, Phantom heard – “hey, stone-face! Surprise!”

From the sky descended the Red Huntress, holding her blaster over her shoulder. She shot it at Pariah Dark, blinding him momentarily. Pariah yowled like a hyena, then turned around and shot a strong, red, laser-beam from his one good eye. The Huntress was forced to dodge the large beam, dropping her blaster in the process, and accidentally running into the football goal post. She fell to the ground but was quick to get up, forming a smaller blaster on his wrist to shoot – except, it malfunctioned, broken from the fall, and sparked. The Red Huntress yelled out in pain at the heated blaster sparking, and she ripped her glove and the blaster off her hand. But by doing so, she revealed –

“The ring!” Fright Knight yelled. “Give that to the King, now!”

The Huntress looked down at the ring that sat on her finger, then back up at Pariah Dark and Fright Knight. She knew she was in over her head – and she needed a distraction. Her visor turned downward. She removed the ring, pulled out a torpedo shooter, placed the ring on the torpedo, and hefted it over her shoulder. “You want it?” She said, “then go get it!”

She shot the torpedo out into the endless Ghost Zone, watching it disappear into the green. Then she booked it out of there, heading toward the Fenton Ghost Shield like her life depended on it.

-

Fright Knight was quick to follow after the Red Huntress, raging as he hit Soul Shredder into the ghost shield over and over again. He had long lost sight of his King, who he had left back at the fields of Casper High, but he knew he needed to go after that miscreant that had dared attack his King. He yelled as he hit the shield again, the glowing green dome not giving under his ghostly sword.

“This – is – not – over!” He grunted with each hit, in a rage watching that dastardly hunter walk away.

“Actually, my loyal servant,” Pariah’s voice said behind him, “it is.”

Fright Knight stopped, letting go of his sword and dropping into a deep bow at the feet of Pariah. His frown, which bared his fangs, was vicious. But then – then he smiled. Pariah never smiled. Except then Pariah opened one of his clenched fists, showing the Ring of Rage within his palm. Pariah chuckled darkly, escalating into a loud, shrill laugh, as he carefully put the ring on his finger. Once the ring was on, Pariah’s features scrunched up in pain as the sky glowed bright, and the ring sparked. A bright, blinding light lit up the sky, the source of it being Pariah Dark – it flickered, turning the world white, black, and green for several moments, as Pariah screamed in pain. But it only took a minute, and then the light died down, showing how Pariah dark was glowing an endless ectoplasm green, courtesy of the ring. The flames of the Crown of Fire were brighter, larger, and hotter than before.

“Come, we have plans to make,” Pariah said, slightly out of breath, “for soon, this human world will also be mine!”

-

“Danny!” Sam exclaimed, bursting into his room, “you’re – you’re okay!” Danny turned around, revealing a passed-out Valerie behind him. She was covered in bruises and dirt. Sam took a step back, startled. “Whoa – what happened to her?”

“You name it, it happened,” Danny said. “Fright Knight, Pariah Dark, Plasmius – all of my enemies.”

“Dude, you can’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault,” Tucker said, stepping into the room from behind Sam. “Valerie chooses to go into ghost fights – you know this.”

“Maybe it’s not my fault,” Danny said, “but it is my responsibility. The humans in Amity Park, the ghosts, the Ghost Zone – all of it. It’s my responsibility to keep it all safe as Phantom. But this time, I just … I froze. As soon as Pariah Dark came, it was like … it was like my core stopped working. I couldn’t handle his presence. And Valerie got hurt as a result. She passed out just within the ghost shield, and I was barely able to drag her to my room after, escaping Pariah and Fright Knight. Now I don’t know where Vlad is, Pariah has the Ring of Rage, along with the Crown of Fire, and the entirety of Amity Park is stuck within the Ghost Zone. I don’t know what to do!”

“Danny,” Sam said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “you need to stop catastrophizing. Take a deep breath, and let’s go through this logically. You’re powerful on your own – and you have the support of hundreds of ghosts right now. You said they agreed to help you. If you all attack together, then you must have a chance against Pariah Dark!”

“Sam’s right,” Tucker said. “As much as I don’t like it, we need a plan to go up against Pariah – and you’re our best bet.”

Danny sighed. “Okay, let’s do this, then …”

-

Travelling through the Ghost Zone with almost a hundred rowdy ghosts was not easy, but eventually, they made their way to Pariah’s Keep. When they got there, there was maybe a hundred – no, thousands of ghost skeletons surrounding the Keep. Phantom quickly realised he didn’t need to defeat all of them – he only needed to make a path through them, enough to get to the doors of the Keep and find Pariah Dark. With his rogue gallery behind him, Phantom let loose on the ghost skeletons. He blasted away hundreds of skeletons with his ecto-blasts and froze hundreds of others. Klemper was right behind him with his icy breath, covering them in a deep impenetrable snow. The Box Ghost assaulted several with boxes and bubble wrap, while Dora let loose a torrent of fire from her maw. Ember knocked some out with her sonic blasts, and Skulker shot multiple bombs and used his nets to incapacitate them.

When they finally carved out a pathway to the Keep, Skulker turned to Phantom. “Now go, defeat Pariah! So, that I may be free to hunt you another day!”

“Wow, you really know how to motivate people,” Phantom snarked, but entered the Keep, nonetheless.

He flew through long, tall corridors, until he finally came to a set of red wooden doors over twenty feet tall. His core shuddered at the sheer power emanating from behind the door, and he deep down, he knew, that this was going to be his final stand. He kicked the doors open, knocking them off their hinges, to open into a large throne room. At the end of the room, behind the throne, sat the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. And standing between the sarcophagus and him was none other than Pariah Dark.

Standing twenty feet tall, adorned in strong armour, and holding a glow spiked mace, Pariah was every bit the fearsome King that he was thousands of years ago. Pariah grinned at him. “I was hoping you would come,” Pariah said, “if only so I could see the freak of nature again.”

“What do you say,” Phantom said, “we skip the snappy banter and go right to the part where I kick your ass! You shouldn’t have the Crown of Fire or the Ring of Rage!”

“Very well,” Pariah conceded, “I accept your challenge and terms.”

Pariah launched himself at Phantom, swinging his mace – which was almost as big as Phantom – downward. Phantom put up a large ectoplasmic shield, blocking the hit. The mace came in contact and immediately shattered the shield from the sheer force of Pariah’s power and strength, forcing Phantom to flip backwards and away from Pariah. He regained his wits quickly and shot a powerful ecto-blast at Pariah, following it up with a sheet of ice on the ground, knocking Pariah to the ground and making him slide into the throne and destroying it. Pariah’s sword fell from its sheath, clattering to the ground, but Pariah didn’t seem to notice. Pariah recovered, floating to his feet. He glanced down at Phantom, reassessing what he had previously thought of the ghost child.

“That much power – it’s a burden, isn’t it, child?” Pariah said, grinning with fangs. “But I wonder – how did you come across it? Is it due to your freakish nature?”

“The power isn’t the burden,” Phantom said, “it’s in how you use it – and you’ve been using yours very poorly!”

Phantom jumped up, floating in the air, but Pariah threw his mace, curving it along the walls before it hit Phantom and sent him forward, closer to the King. Before Phantom could reorient himself, Pariah gave a roundhouse kick and sent him sprawling. Phantom’s back hit the wall and he fell, dropping to the ground. While Pariah watched in amusement, Phantom got to his feet. He grunted as several duplicates of himself appeared around Pariah, all with their eyes blazing and fists clenched. Together, all the duplicates flew at Pariah, punching and kicking and sending stray ecto-blasts.

Pariah cried out in pain as an ecto-blast hit his eye. He called his mace back to him and swung, making one of the duplicates disappear into dust. Another duplicate pile-drove him from behind. Several of them approached, and all together, they spoke – “You better leave my town alone!”

Pariah shot another red charged ecto-blast, making another duplicate disappear.

“Surrender, child. You can’t possibly win,” Pariah said, growling.

Phantom’s core shuddered at the order from the Voice of the crown, but he refused to give in.

“That’s the thing, I don’t have to win,” Phantom said. “I just have to make sure that you lose!”

From behind Pariah, one duplicate opened the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, while another shot a perfectly aimed ecto-blast, which knocked the Crown of Fire from Pariah’s head. The crown flew through the air until it landed in Phantom’s hands. Face lit up from the flames of the crown, Phantom glanced up at Pariah with a sinister grin. He placed the crown atop his own head. The crown’s fire rose several feet, spluttering and raging. Phantom could physically feel the itch in the back of his throat, the Voice of the crown trying to overwhelm him – the power that it held. Pariah howled.

“No – NO!”

“Now,” Phantom said. He let the itch overtake him. “G̶i̵ve̴ ̵m̷e̴ th̷e̶ ̶R̷i̵ng̴ ̴of̷ R̵a̵ge̷.”

Pariah’s whole body froze. He visibly struggled to resist the order from the crown. “N-never,” he said, voice rough. “I will never – never give this power to you!”

“G̶̟͕̭̤̭͔̤̲̜̱̝̉̐̇͜I̷̢̨̱͍̬̓̆̏̑̉̈͆̒̿̀̃̐͋̾͗̊͜V̶̛͖̝̝͇͉̞̗̤̾͊̐͋̓̄́͗͋́̑̾̇́͊͜Ȩ̶̥̜̳͇̱̹͍̺̟͓̜̐͌̽̀͆̇̓͗͒̈̌̾͘̚͝͝ ̴̢̛̻̮̖̮̖͉͓͕͙̤̱̞̼̲̇́̿̅̇͆͋͌̏͐̒̄̚̚ͅṀ̵̛͚͇̪͙̟͇̫̬̭̭̱͕͔̓̋̉̀́É̢̛̯̘̝̞̗̦̯̻͙̝̮͓̖́̎͋̊̐͛͌̈́͒͊ ̧̢̠̤͇̞͓̝̲͈̫͉̀͝Ṭ̥͚̗̤̞͜ͅĤ̴̡̻̝̪̫̬̦͌̎̌̐́́̋̅̿̊̎͋̑͝È̘̺̻̘͔͔̯̭̟̹̘̍̍̅̾̍͆̾̐͝ͅ ̴͈̈́̏̕͠R̷̡̧̡̨͎̳͍̘̬̻̪̦͔͓̫̖̈̾͊̐͋͛͗̓͗̐̽̋̒͝ͅI̵̺͚̠͎͎̅̌̔̒͗N̴͎̟̊̿̉͌̓ͅG̵̠̟̺̻͎̫͙̭̼̠͉̹̬̅͌̋̈́̅̂̓ ̨̱̼͉͙̫͓͕̘̃̈́̈́͋̅͗́̓̀O̷̯̳̮͒͛͗͆́̎̃̌͐F̶͙͉͖͕̯͕̘͔̹̪͆͌̓͒́͂̉͆͝ͅ ̶̻̊͘R̷̢̺̙̠̜̤͈͛́̈̏̃͛͛̒̍Ȧ̴̰̘̀̋̆̂̏̈͆̐̆͂̀̎̓̿͛͝G̵̡͈̪͔͎̱̈̆̓̏̏̈́̿̀͂̀́͋̑̈́̈́̃̕E̵̢̡̅̃��̧̛͓͔͖̮͂̅̍̔̈́̚͘!̷̡̧̡̡̨̻̟̮͚͔͖͈̝̲̩̤̍̏̆̂̿̈́͌́̕̕̕!̴͓̥̮̺̓̀̇̚͜”

Pariah Dark fell to his knees and cried out in pain, still resisting.

Phantom took the chance. He rushed forward and slashed downward with his arm, created a sharp ice attack which cut off Pariah’s left hand. Pariah howled again. The hand fell the to ground, limp and spewing green ectoplasm and blood. Phantom bent down and picked up the hand, taking the Ring of Rage off Pariah’s now limp finger. In his hands, it felt so small – so insignificant. But he knew of the true power that it held. If he focused, he could feel the infinite ectoplasm that it leaked, fueling its wearer. And carefully – ever so carefully – he slipped it onto his own hand. For several moments, there was nothing – and then pain, pain like he had never felt before. The room lit up in green light, which emanated from both the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage. Phantom could physically feel his core being ripped apart.

His core pulsed and shuddered, overwhelmed by the power of both artifacts. But it only took one look down at Pariah – the sniveling king, who had taken his town, his people and ghosts, and destroyed their homes – to know that he couldn’t give into the power of the artifacts. There was no way he would let himself burn away and fade, leaving anyone at the mercy of Pariah Dark ever again.

The light faded. The Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage stopped glowing. Phantom’s core slowly released the heat, ice spreading out in fractures from beneath his feet, freezing over the entire throne room. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling, the wooden throne splintered under the cold, and the Sarcophagus of Forever sleep slowly froze over. When the ice reached Pariah, it melted around his feet at first, but slowly, it overtook him, too. Phantom stepped forward, spreading more rapid-fire ice under his heel, causing craters in the ground and sharp ice pillars to form with every step.

“Go̵ ̶i̶n̴t̵o t̵h̵e̴ ̴Sa̶rc̵o̷ph̴a̶g̷u̷s o̷f̴ F̷o̶r̴ev̵e̷r̴ ̴S̴le̶e̴p,” Phantom ordered.

And Pariah, features still scrunched up in pain, was forced to obey.

-

Phantom closed the Sarcophagus of Forever sleep. He didn’t have the key, so he froze over the sarcophagus with his impenetrable ice, freezing it into a solid block of ice, so that Pariah may never escape again.

On the way out, Phantom picked up the sword that Pariah had dropped during the fight. The sword shrunk as soon as it was in his hands, going from over ten feet in length to only five feet of blade. It looked like crystallised ectoplasm, with a glow surrounding the blade. On the hilt, which was made of some sort of green leather, was the inscription “Reaper.” By only holding it, Phantom could feel that it had similar properties to Soul Shredder. He very carefully held the blade as he left Pariah’s Keep, not sure if he would need it or not, but knowing he couldn’t leave it out for anyone to take.

-

While the inside of Pariah’s Keep was quiet, when Phantom stepped out of the Keep, he found the battle was still very much ongoing with the ghost skeletons. And, unfortunately, his rogues were started to flag in their energy. Phantom saw Ember fall beneath several ghost skeletons, he saw Skulker’s blasters fail to go off, he saw the Box Ghost’s boxes crushed, and his core pulsed angrily. He took a single step outside he Keep, and the ground cracked beneath his feet. Another step, and frost started to spread. The ghost skeletons around him froze over quickly, but this wasn’t a battle that Phantom needed to fight. He knew, as long as the Crown of Fire sat on his head, and the Ring of Rage stayed on his finger, that this was his army to command.

“S̷͎͎̝̣̠̫̤̠̣̙̱̩͇̉̿̾̒͒̈́̽̋̾͛̀̀̚͠T̶̛͙̤̬̯̜̗͍͈̮̮̖̻̿̊̆͛̈́͐̃̌̑͒̽͌̈͂̎̌͜Ő̷̡̱͇͕̤̞̓̏́̐̿͜P̵̡͉̯̫̮̌̌̍̈́̉̽͂̓̎̔!̶̢̢̛̻̱͇̙̙͕̫̅̔͐͋̑̓̈͛̏̅͊̕” He commanded, his Voice loud and clear. He held out Reaper in threat.

And they listened.

-

Figuring out how to bring Amity Park back into the Living Realms was a bit of a harder task than stopping an army of hundreds of thousands of ghosts. His rogues weren’t any help because none of them could open a portal on their own, not like Wulf could – but Wulf wasn’t here right now. Pariah had known how to open portals, too, but he was gone now. Except … Fright Knight was still left, his second in command. And if anyone were to know how to do what Pariah did, then Fright Knight would.

It wasn’t hard to find Fright Knight considering he was waiting outside Pariah’s Keep with the rest of the army. When Phantom floated in front of him, Fright Knight immediately dropped to his knees and bowed before him, no Command or Voice needed.

“My Liege,” Fright Knight said, startling Phantom.

“I’m no king,” Phantom denied.

“You are now,” Fright Knight said. “You are my King now. By trial of combat, you have defeated Pariah Dark, and you now possess both the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage. I will follow you wherever you go, I will do whatever you wish.”

“I don’t want to be a king, I want to bring Amity Park back to the Living Realms,” Phantom said. “How do I do that?”

-

The Zone swirled around him, the purple doors moved out of his way, the islands appeared at his will, and Amity Park was safe. It was like the Ghost Zone responded to his emotions and wishes. He only felt marginally bad when he used his claws as he ripped a giant hole in the space and time around him. The Infinite Realms bent around him, splintering and ripping under his will, creating a large rip in the Ghost Zone. The dawn-lit sky from the Living Realms bled through, and Phantom used all his ghostly strength to push the island that was Amity Park through the rift, right back to where it belonged.

-

Phantom invisibly flew to Fenton Works, phasing through the walls and dropping right into his bed. He de-transformed, turning back into Danny, and groaned into his sheets. After using so much power, and his core being abused so much, he felt like he had been run over by a bus. Behind him, his friends, who had been waiting in his room, startled.

“Danny!” They both exclaimed.

“What happened?” Sam demanded.

“Are you okay?” Tucker asked.

Danny groaned again. “Let’s just say, Pariah Dark will never be a problem … ever again.”

-

[suprememuffin06]

should i post my caitvi canon-compliant character study fanfic on ao3???

i've written about 4k words so far, so far from any semblance of completion. this is my first fic and i'm soooo nervous to post it on ao3 because i'm scared it's just horrible lol. i'm trying to cover all the missing caitvi scenes for all the acts in s2, and im on act 1 so far. i'll post the draft here, and if anyone has any feedback, it would be extremely appreciated!

------

Vi couldn't look Cait in the eye, not properly. Not after all that happened. She was just comfortable enough staring at the girl’s royal blue hair and uniform, closely examining each subtle shake of a shoulder and each nearly imperceptible frown. Vi watched as the cracks in Caitlyn’s facade started to widen, the composed face she put up for the citizens of Piltover starting to slowly weaken.

Even from all the way below the balcony, in the waves of people gathered to memorialize Cassandra Kiraminn, Vi saw Caitlyn. Everyone else was looking at the daintily crafted blue and gold casket, to their councilwoman.

Vi heard the shifty murmurs of panic and uncertainty. A terrorist attack from the undercity. Half the counsel dead. Vi could feel the bile rising in her throat, tasting something like guilt mixed with the name Powder. And though her attention to Caitlyn never faltered, she couldn’t stop seeing flashes of Jinx’s gag in Cait’s mouth; she flinched as a cold crept up her spine.

Vi was surely going to throw up, and this time it didn’t feel like it would be as freeing as heaving after a gut punch from an inmate at Stillwater or wiping her mouth after one too many drinks from prison-made alcohol. Yet, there she stood. Her arms hung at her sides, the old wraps crusted with blood. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, trying to hide the mess of her knuckles. The tattoo on her face gleamed in the sunlight like a proclamation saying “I don’t belong here” to the sophisticated individuals around her. She noticed the mothers pulling their children to their sides when seeing Vi, and the men that towered over her shot her murderous glares with fists clenched at their sides. I don’t belong here.

She didn’t care, not as long as she could look at her Caitlyn. Her Caitlyn. Her Powder. Her throat tightened, memories of blue flashing across her mind like lightning splitting the dark. It zipped around, knocking over and crashing into every crevice of her brain, leaving a trail of destruction in its path. Powder laughed with joy, and Vi could only watch as the short, choppy hair of her sisters grew into long, vine-like braids. In spite of herself, she winced at the thought.

The glitter bombs Powder held stopped exploding, in exchange for the sound of gunfire reverberating in her skull. Jinx aimed her machine gun through Vi’s eyes, directly at the indigo of the Kirraman girl standing above her. The worst gift Vi could give Caitlyn, delivering all the anger that her sister represented directly to her. And although she hated it now, Jinx would forever be a name buzzing right beneath her bones. No matter how much of herself she could give to Caitlyn, there was always an underlying paranoia that her mere presence was a vessel, bringing Jinx right at Caitlyn’s doorstep.

Vi wanted to feel it. You did this. No one else noticed the small tear that slipped down Caitlyn’s highest cheekbone except for her. YOU did this. Vi furrowed her eyebrows and locked onto that tear, watching it slide down the column of Cait’s neck. She saw the betrayal on her sister’s face when she saw her for the first time in seven years, with an enforcer. An enforcer, for fuck’s sake. And she saw the way Caitlyn listened to her when she told her not to shoot Jinx. And now her mother is in a box.

Somehow, Vi managed to gain and lose two of the most valuable relationships she ever held in the matter of a few weeks. You are a fire. Keeping people just warm enough if they stay at arm’s length. Once they draw near, they get burned. They get hurt, and yet you ask them to come closer still.

-

When Caitlyn’s eyes started to gain some focus again, her pupils pinpointed in the sunlight while scanning the masses, Vi vanished. She waded through the crowd and could feel Cait’s gaze find her back, watching her leave. She could only allow herself to indulge in the pain of looking at Caitlyn indirectly, but she would never allow her to know the pain of looking VI in the eyes again.

Vi would kill herself twenty times over before allowing Caitlyn to trust her, her judgement. Look what happened the last time she allowed that. Vi only brought ruin. A false security. She would not allow herself to be the cause of such anguish again. She needed to leave.

-

Caitlyn’s fingernails left crescent-moon shaped indents in her palm, and her enforcer uniform felt heavy on her shoulders as she watched everyone who came to her mother’s funeral. Really, she was looking at just one. The last thread of color in her life was slipping away, without so much as a goodbye.

Vi would have to be a fool to presume that Caitlyn wouldn’t find her in the sea of people, drawn to the side-swept mess of pink hair and bright red jacket. It took her every ounce of control that she had remaining to not clear the landing and sprint to the girl.

Caitlyn imagined herself crashing into Vi’s arms, and feeling the strength of the Zaunite’s biceps pressing against her cheek. Don’t go. You’re all I have left anymore. She could practically feel Vi’s breath rustle the strands of her navy hair, accompanied by the soft whisper of “I’ve got you, Cupcake” into her ear.

Tears started to well in her eyes and Caitlyn willed them to remain in place. She forced her back straighter as she watched the girl that she spent every day with for the last few weeks, walk away from her. Far enough away that Vi was just a pink dot in the distance, against the muted hue of the Piltover cityline. Caitlyn exhaled hard in favor of allowing herself to feel anything more, and steeled herself for the ending of the funeral.

The casket was closed, shrouded with a metric ton of violets, plucked delicately petal-for-petal. The hard contours of the box reminded Caitlyn of the sharp line of her mother’s jaw and the strong nose that she herself inherited.

The pall-bearers slowly lifted her mother’s coffin, and began their descent towards the cemetery just outside of Piltover city limits, where all of the most influential people were buried. Involuntarily, her feet began to shuffle forward, trying to catch one last glimpse of her mom, before one of the enforcers standing beside her shifted closer and in front of her. She didn’t know him well, but knew he was higher-ranking. Under any other circumstance she would have obeyed hierarchy and stopped herself. But today was not the day to test her, not when she was one more inconvenience from breaking down and raining hellfire on anyone who tried to tell her to “stay strong.” The officer shriveled under Caitlyn’s glare, one that could only be embodied by a councilwoman’s daughter.

She marched right beside the casket, her eyes level to the head of it, where her mother’s face would be if the box were open. This form of emotional expression, Caitlyn knew, was frowned upon by her people, but she couldn’t give two shits. Nothing was ever going to stop her from reaching those she loved again.

Caitlyn walked dutifully before reaching the stairs, catching the glimpse of her own shade of blue; her father. His broken gaze withered her soul and her body felt as weak as the day it did when Jinx killed her peace. She stopped in place. The only thing keeping her upright anymore being the red-hot swirl of something bitter brewing in her stomach. She was already imaging target-practice later today, with two sky-blue plaits covering the bullseye.

-

After Jinx had destroyed the council-building, Caitlyn’s ears were ringing so loudly she could barely register her screaming as her own. Vi’s strong hands were no longer steadfast when holding Cait up, and despite her injury, Caitlyn started trying to run. Out of Zaun, out of that hellhole that she thought was worth risking her family and her legacy for. In the back of her mind, she noticed that Vi was following her, calling her name, asking her to wait. You’re hurt Cait, please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t think she would do it. I’m sorry. Violet’s voice cracked on the last apology.

Caitlyn didn’t spare a glance back, adrenaline flowing through her veins just enough that her long legs could carry her through the slums and across the bridge without collapsing. In hindsight, she realized that Jinx just disappeared after the incident, and neither she nor Vi went after her. The thought left an unbearably bitter taste in the back of her mouth, the thought that she was so close to Jinx, after all that she had been through at the hands of the girl, and she didn’t take the chance to shoot her in her fuck ass grin.

Caitlyn sprinted, harder than she ever had before, and felt Vi trying to keep up behind her. Vi even held her rifle that Jinx had taken from her during the abduction. She wished that the pink-haired inmate would just fucking trip on an overgrown root or leave her for her sister instead.

Vi was the one who told her not to shoot.

Vi.

How could she do that?

She kept running, outpacing Vi with every further step.

By the time Caitlyn arrived at the scene, her precariously put-together enforcer uniform was ripped in places she knew was unrepairable and new cuts littered her body. She was nearly knocked down by Jayce’s hulking body, running out of the building, carrying who she vaguely understood to be Viktor’s limp body.

Without sparing a glance back at her friend, she ran into the collapsing structure. She caught a glimpse of soft-white hair and turquoise earrings. Her mother was being carried out by four enforcers in gas-masks, her body slack and unmoving. Caitlyn watched her mother’s eyes, just barely clinging to any semblance of life, met hers, and blinked out one final time. She could do nothing but stand in shock as the enforcers pushed past her to the stretcher laid outside, Cassandra Kirramin’s blank gaze never breaking.

-

Vi was a fucking pussy. She told herself she fucking wouldn’t, that she would stay. away. Yet, she found herself at the foot of a towering mega mansion. From her vantage point on the ground, she could even see the window of Caitlyn’s room, the same one she had snuck into just a few days prior.

The feeling of manicured fingernails brushing her cheek came flooding into her body without permission, and a familiar warmth seemed to tighten its hold around her heart. “Fuck.” She cursed to herself, and took the first step up the massive stairs. She was weak, and always had been, but she tried to console herself by telling herself that she just wanted to make sure that Cait was okay, that’s all.

Once more, just to see her, that’s all.

The guards stationed at the large mahogany doors let her in without so much a second glance, and Vi, against her best wishes, felt her heart swell. Cait had to have told them to let her through, otherwise what competent guard would allow a Zaunite into one of the most influential Piltie families' homes, especially after recent events?

It took Vi embarrassingly long to locate Caitlyn, at some points just aimlessly wandering around the carpeted halls, fingertips brushing each piece of exquisite artwork adorning the walls. A few times, she nearly walked into rooms where Caitlyn’s father was in, before catching herself and speeding away. She didn’t need a reminder of how unwanted she was there and didn’t have the strength in her to apologise without crying.

Vi was the catalyst that led Cait to lose her mother. She wasn’t stupid, she could see the level of crazy that Jinx had come to. She had noticed in her youth that Powder wasn’t the most stable of children, especially after Mylo’s unrelenting taunting, but she never would have guessed how big of an impact her disappearance would have on her younger sister.

Sidling up with Silco, for fuck’s sake. Vi never meant to leave her, and every second after getting thrown into jail by some enforcer to her release, her only thought was of Powder. She knew Powder, her greatest insecurities and biggest goals and still she allowed the girl to think that her big sister, her protector, was leaving her. Powder was just a kid, and look at how badly Vi fucked her up.

Vi swallowed painfully at the realization that she did this. Powder became Jinx because of her actions, and now her hand hovered over the door to Caitlyn’s mother’s closet, where Kirraman was seated cross-legged, unsure if she should knock or leave again before she messes everything up again. She started to shuffle backwards, away from the room, walking away from the only reliable thing in her life.

Caitlyn must have heard the soft breaths of Vi’s shoes on the hardwood and looked over her shoulder sharply.

“Vi!” Cait’s desperate voice ended in a needy whisper.

The taller girl got onto her feet unsteadily and almost sprinted to Vi, falling into her arms. Her face was streaked and hair mussed. Vi could feel fresh tears soaking into the side of her neck, where Caitlyn’s face was currently buried. “I thought you left.”

Vi only held her tighter, but didn’t allow her grimy hands to come anywhere near the pristine uniform that Caitlyn wore, in fear of getting it dirty with her heavy hands. “I’m right here cupc- Cait.” It felt wrong to use such a light-hearted nickname, especially after all the pain she had caused the woman in her arms.

Caitlyn, seeming to catch herself, pulled away quickly from Vi’s hold and tried to inconspicuously wipe away any remaining water from her eyes. Half of the dark-blue shoulder length hair was falling out of the hastily done ponytail, and Vi’s hands itched at her side to try to stop it from brushing it out of the other girl’s face.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Vi asked, her voice soft.

“What do you think?” Caitlyn responded with a feigned chuckle and turned around. Vi noticed the clothing that littered the floor of the closet for the first time, and the ruffled tuxedo dress that Caitlyn clenched in her white-knuckled fist.

They stood like that a while, Caitlyn once again facing the days-untouched clothes neatly folded on racks, and Vi observing Cait from behind. The closet itself was bigger than Vi’s cell for seven years, but somehow felt even more desolate and hopeless.

Vi let her eyes drag from the top of Caitlyn’s head to the bottom of her heeled boots. The roots of her hair were getting slightly greasy, as if she hadn’t showered in quite a bit, but her uniform was as pristine and gleaming as ever, as if it had been polished and laundered many times over.

The skirt that Caitlyn wore left just enough of a gap above her thigh highs to show a sliver of white skin. Usually, Vi’s lust-addled mind would stare there more than she liked to admit, but now she could only think about the small bruise that was blooming under carefully applied makeup, mostly hidden by the hem of the skirt. Vi did her best, but could not control her sharp inhale at the view. How could someone be so pure in a world so cruel? And Vi had helped lead Caitlyn down a path where her blemishless, innocent skin would most likely be further marred by her past.

Caitlyn turned on her heel to face Vi once again, and Vi had to take a slight step back, forgetting how much taller the other girl was, especially in her shoes.

“I’m going to go check on my father, he’s not been eating.”

Vi, once again, couldn’t meet her eyes, and let her gaze drop to the floor.

A heartbeat later, a slim, manicured hand tentatively reached for Vi’s, and her heart melted.

“Are you.. Going to stay?” Caitlyn grew more confident as she slowly wrapped both her hands around Vi’s. She didn’t look up at her, instead opting to brush her fingers over Vi’s wrapped knuckles. “I could clean this for you.”

Vi felt the familiar tug in her gut, drawing her closer to the idea of staying with Caitlyn, but she felt disgusted with herself for feeling as such. “Cait..”

Caitlyn’s striking blue eyes met hers under long lashes and the words caught in her throat. Gently, she pried her hand away from Caitlyn’s pleading grip and brought it to her face. Her thumb brushed over one of the tear streaks on Cait’s soft cheek and she could feel her eyebrows tighten with something akin to affection.

“Of course I will.”

If it weren’t for Vi’s hand allowing her to feel the loosening of Caitlyn’s clenched jaw, she wouldn’t be able to perceive much at all about the girl’s reaction. Instead Caitlyn nodded into her palm.

“I’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to make sure he’s okay to sleep.” Cait covered Vi’s hand on the side of her face with her own. “My room is down the hall and the second door on the left.”

Slowly, she extracted herself, and Vi heard the clack of boots down the hallway, stunned at what she’s allowed herself to do. Caitlyn was a sweet girl with a heart that needed to be defended by someone who wouldn’t accidently hurt it in the process. Caitlyn Kirramin was the exact person she grew up believing didn’t exist, and Vi was allowing herself to become key to her destruction.

In her room?? The house was fucking massive, and there was more silk in the closet itself than Vi had ever been exposed to (exactly none), her entire life prior. They must have at least one spare room. She mentally kicked herself and clenched her fists into her jacket. All she could do was hope that she wasn’t making the wrong decision again.

-

Vi had no idea how anyone got around in this palace; it took her almost ten minutes of walking up and down the hallways until she finally found the familiar high-ceilinged bedroom, her face a mask of amused disbelief the whole time.

She entered as softly as she could. The room was as she remembered it, all organized and minimal, a picture perfect representation of one of Piltover’s most wealthy families. It seemed that this aesthetic left Vi unsure of where to keep her hands so she opted to cross her arms.

All was the same except one tiny change to Caitlyn’s crime board at the foot of her bed. At the center of the interweaving lines of yarn, there was one image plastered haphazardly. All the paths led to that one picture, like rivers flowing to the ocean. Vi felt her mouth go dry as the worst photo she had ever seen of her sister started back at her, with a deranged sort of stare.

She didn’t even have enough time to react to it before hearing the click of the door behind her. Caitlyn’s eyes immediately drew to what Vi was looking at and she quickly pulled a throw blanket off of the loveseat in the corner and threw it on top of the board, making sure nothing was peeking through.

“It’s getting late, Vi, I don’t want to think about anything substantial right now.”

Cait was indeed right, it was well past dark, as could be seen through the infamous window on the far end of her room. Vi attempted a small smile and her usually natural laidback tone.

“So, where do you want me?” She face-palmed internally as Caitlyn let out a small, endearing giggle. Vi’s smile turned genuine at the sound, despite the fact that she just accidentally let innuendo slip to the girl she would be spending the night with.

Caitlyn’s eyes were bright, despite the circles underneath them. “Hopefully in here?”

Vi’s hesitation was palpable, especially now. “Do you have a spare mattress? Or I could take the chair. Or the floor, I’m used to that one, feels like home now.”

Caitlyn just started at Vi like she was stupid. “I would never make you sleep on the floor.” She whispered, almost offended.

Vi couldn’t take any more of this. This.. guilt. But she endured, for Caitlyn’s sake.

“Thanks, Cupcake.”

-

Vi was easier to read than any books in Caitlyn’s family library. Zaunite's pupils were always blown looking at her and the scar on her lip twitched whenever she had something to ask. Not unusually, Cait was looking at Vi’s lips again. She found it ironic that such a hardened individual was so obviously transparent. The girl was concerned about her, and if anyone else were to be so, attentive, Caitlyn would send them out immediately. But, as she had suspected (and feared): she needed Vi.

Caitlyn had been raised to focus only on the task at hand; getting the job done. With all the memories pushing and pulling like tides in her head made the etiquette lessons with her mother feel like they happened hours ago. She could still feel the warm sting of a ruler rapping against her lower back whenever she slouched. The perfect daughter. Even in her dying breath, Caitlyn didn’t believe Cassandra thought that of her.

House Kirraman was a matriarchy, and she was the sole inheritor of the title. She understood it now more than ever, that her days of trying to find her “place” in the world were over. Recklessly selfish actions for the sake of a possibly hollow idea of self no longer had any place in her. Caitlyn knew who she was: capable and resourceful, and an excellent fucking shot. Although the future was still a perpetually uncertain mystery, she tried to take it one step at a time.

Vi was looking at her, she could feel her worried gaze. Caitlyn inhaled deeply, clearing her mind the best she could. One mission: get through the night.

Maybe then she wouldn’t feel Cassandra’s hard, but loving stare drilling into the back of her neck.

- Vi’s brain hurt trying to overanalyze every step of Cait’s movements, attempting to decipher what her next best move should be. Currently, the bluenette was rummaging through a dresser at the corner of her room. Vi slowly slipped off the bed, unsure of what to do.

Caitlyn walked over with two fresh pairs of clothes. She handed Vi a pair of soft linen pants and a cotton white tank top, while she held a similar tank and a short pair of her shorts.

“Do you need anything? You can change in the bathroom if you’d like.”

Vi smiled, but it probably came out looking more like a grimace. “This is more than I’m used to, don’t worry.” Her teasing tone was doing nothing to remedy Cait’s stoic expression. The only window Vi had for any indication of what she was thinking, were the girl’s striking eyes, clearly focused on something else.

Caitlyn walked directly past Vi and sat on her bed, legs crossed and knees to her chest with her face in her palms. Vi followed a few long seconds later, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed as she put her hand on Cait’s knee. Caitlyn finally met her eyes.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked gently.

Caitlyn’s voice was hoarse. “I’d like to shower.”

Vi looked at her slightly quizzically, unable to answer.

“She took me while I was bathing.” The words left her lips without ceremony, her tone flat, practiced. She knew it would hit Vi like a hammer, but what else was there to say? Her hand clenched the fabric of her shorts, knuckles pale against the dark cloth.

Vi felt the room tilt, her pulse thrumming so loudly in her ears that Caitlyn’s voice sounded like it was underwater.

She felt horrible for wanting to chuckle at Vi’s horrified look.

“Wha.. What do you mean?”

Vi’s breath hitched, her thoughts stumbling over themselves. Her chest felt tight, her fists curling unconsciously. Naked. Helpless. The image struck her like a fist to the ribs, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her voice steady. Jinx’s laughter echoed in her head. What have I done?

“After the bridge. She kept me for a day, and..” Her voice trailed off, lost in thought.

-

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. Oh my god what the fuck. Vi felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. It was so much worse than she thought. Her heartbeat started to match the speed of her thoughts, as she put together the pieces.

When she had seen Caitlyn gagged and tied, the girl looked more terrified than she had ever seen her. Even still, Jinx’s presence cast a shadow over her worry.

Every step she thinks that she takes in the right direction, just ends up hurting the people around her. Maybe her and her sister weren’t that different after all.

-

Even softly, Caitlyn caught onto the slight increase in Vi’s breathing pattern and used her pointer finger to lift Vi’s chin gently, so their eyes could meet. She slipped her ungloved hand into Vi’s buzzed hair, the short strands soft against her fingertips, her thumb brushing the warmth of Vi’s cheek.

“Vi, I want to shower.”

Vi looked as conflicted as she probably felt. All she did was nod.

Caitlyn leaned forward, resting her forehead against her knees, her hand still lightly brushing Vi’s. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Vi shifted closer. She didn’t know what to say—hell, she didn’t know what Cait wanted her to say.

When Caitlyn finally looked up, her eyes held a quiet, raw intensity that made Vi’s throat tighten. “Could you…” Her voice was thick, and she cleared her throat, her fingers tightened around Vi’s for just a moment. “Come with me?” Caitlyn’s eyes were sharp but heavy, like an ocean that hadn’t decided whether to swallow you whole or let you float.

-

[elmundodeflor]

The sun fits her body just like a glove would. It caves, and it trips, and it bends to every crevice that’s in her. The curves of her legs, her hipbones and waist, — they are all shaped by light and shadow. Contoured in pale paint-strokes that make her worthy of admiration.

Cait’s asleep right next to her, her breaths slow and steady, — almost peaceful. They are covered in nothing but bedsheets, coated in sweat. The hour before, they had tasted each other fully. Gotten to know the sweet, sweet ecstasy that’s to love, and be loved in turn. Vi can’t help but remember the first time she’s been here, right in this house. The rain was pouring, the world was crumbling. Oil and water, she’d said. Her and Cait couldn’t be more different, — two halves of a whole that would never fit together.

“Forget me, cupcake.”, she’d told her, back then. The pit-pat of the downpour the only sound that was between them.

Cait had extended her hand to reach her, but she was far gone, walking away already. At the time, that’s all she had wanted to do. It is crazy to think that, now, maybe, for once, she thinks she’ll stay. That, after a lifetime worth of running away, with Cait there, tucked inside her arms, the day has finally come for her to settle.

She strokes her cheek. Her hair’s blue, and it falls like the ocean waves. It’s wild and it’s free, — as seafoam outlining the shores. Cait, oh Cait. The fearless Commander, Piltover’s fiercest. She’s clean-cut and tidy. Strict and obedient. It sure is new to her, to see her like this now, — raw, and untamable, all too beautifully naked.

She had caressed her this same way, Vi remembers, — back when they were here, right in this very bed. She had talked about Powder, and how they’d play to chase their own monsters away, on those scary nights where neither one could sleep. Her hands had been careful, she recalls. Soft, and warm, and delicate, — as if she was made of glass, and she was afraid of breaking her up.

She puts a strand of blue behind her ear, now. Her palms are opposite to Cait’s, she notices, as she traces patterns on her face. Hers are harsh, and full of battle-scar, — her knuckles sprinkled up with callouses. But something wonderful could bloom from underneath, — she’s aware. It was in the way she’d undressed her bare, with a lifetime worth of yearn. How she’d marked her flesh, with a loyalty that unwavers, as bright as the day they met, still.

She smiles. At times, it appeared to her all her hands had known was fight. It was nice to see that it wasn’t all that true, at last. That they were capable of making marvelous things, too.

“Hi.”, Cait looks up at her, her eyes barely open. The sunset’s orange makes her irises twinkle. Paints sparks of gold within a cerulean canvas.

Vi snuggles up closer, takes in every scrap and figment of her. She’s gorgeous like this, basked underneath the afternoon colors. It seems to her, that she’s never been more like herself than here; — her breasts poking from beneath the covers, the freckles on her shoulders all the more visible.

She smiles again, — wider this time—, and thinks of that one night she’d been here. Back then, she’d been scared. As if the monsters her and Powder would dare chase away, were there inside her head, instead. Now, her wrappings lay on the floor, her arms and chest unraveled only for Cait to see. She’s stripped, unshielded both body and soul, — but she’s not scared anymore. She’s found, with Cait there, staring back at her, that there’s a ray of light that’s hushed away the monsters. That there’s no need to hide no more.

The hour before, she had taken the band aids with such care! Got rid of them, slow and tender, as if uncovering an open wound. It had made her feel safe, — how she’d touched her, then. So sheer, so delicate, as if her fingertips burnt. Every brush of her palms against her put her heart at ease. As if she was filling in the cracks that broke her, — fixed her inside out, outside in.

“Hi, there.”, she says, — and Cait leans in, lips to lips, nose to nose. She’s warm against her, almost like boiling water. Vi takes notice; she’s worn-out oil, in turn. The dry kind that sticks to plates and vases serving street food down in Zaun. But they mix well together, somehow, after all. Two halves of a whole that have found their way to make it work, if only.

“Let’s just stay like this a little longer, Cupcake.”

[fifi2930]

A one-shot fic I wrote about Pen's unplanned pregnancy in season 3 and how it might affect Colin's savior complex and guilt.

A heavy dose of angst but with a generous dosage of fluff and smut to balance it out. Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoy it ❤️

[lokiusly]

When Mobius didn’t go to the bar, he’d stay home, streaming movies all night. This week, he felt inclined to explore the rom-coms.

As he watched on: the witty banter, the loving looks, the subtle caresses, it dawned on him…

Mobius needed popcorn. And M&Ms.

He mixed the two together and ate the combination while he watched on.

Elsewhere, Loki watched his reactions to the movie’s jokes. Every time Mobius grinned ear to ear, every thoughtful head-tilt, every hearty laugh.

The ending approached. The characters hadn’t seen each other in so long. It was pouring rain and yet the lead characters were in a trance. They confessed their love and embraced.

Mobius paused the film and sat up on his couch. Loki too sat up on his throne. It had dawned on Mobius.

“Am I… Am I in love?” Mobius chuckled. “I’m in love with Loki.” he whispered but the god of stories heard him loud and clear.

It took everything in Loki to not let go of the branches.

Loki and Mobius, though far from each other, smiled widely, & just as quickly, their smiles faded & their frowns formed.

Outside, the rain began to pour.

[adhdkiramman]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn & Vi (League of Legends) Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, mostly - Freeform, except vi doesn't get bedridden post 2x06, Set in Season 02 Between Act 02 and Act 03 (Arcane: League of Legends), discussion about caitlyn's betrayal in s2 act 1, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Implied Sexual Content, but very brief - Freeform, not beta read we die like... well... lots of em Summary:

Vi sighs. She still won’t look at Cait, instead reaching up to fiddle with her shirt. Her fingers land exactly where Cait thrust the base of her gun just a few weeks prior and tighten around the fabric . “The last time I stopped pretending, you ran away.”

Cait’s chest feels tight. Pushing air out of her lungs feels like trying to fire a bullet through a clogged barrel. She’s afraid if she speaks at this moment the rifle will surely misfire, and she’ll cave in on herself altogether.

“What’s to stop you from doing it again?”

or

Caitlyn and Vi have a much needed conversation about Caitlyn's betrayal and the future of their relationship. Set between s2 acts 2 and 3, except Vi is only mildly injured in the explosion.

[andrea-lyn]

There's nowhere that Armand can run where Daniel won't find him. With the Talamasca's information, his own dogged determination, and eternity sprawling ahead of them, Daniel chases Armand and they both spiral deeper into each other's orbit as they realize what they are and will forever be once Daniel figures out why Armand keeps running. (aka, post-s2 Devil's Minion chase in reverse)

everyone deserves a little obsessive chase, no? post-canon and canon compliant (and in my head, a companion to the one I wrote of armand chasing daniel in the 70's).

[crowleysgirl56]

So I need to make a Good Omens fic recommendation. If you haven’t yet had the chance to read Don’t Fall Away From Me by @phoen1xr0se then RUN DON’T WALK TO AO3 NOW!

This fic was recently completed and I had been holding off on reading it because of all the comments I’d seen from people about how high stakes it was (angst, cliffhangers, action), and I didn’t think I could handle it emotionally unless I could get through it from start to finish.

Be prepared to have your heart ripped apart, but I PROMISE it will be ok in the end.

I’ve read probably more than 100 fics at this point. Only 4 so far had completely undone me and left me sobbing. This is the fifth to do so. Again, I PROMISE it will be ok!

Honestly, if season 3 is even half this exciting and has as much depth and emotion then I will be so happy.

Find it here:

[your-reluctant-optimist]

Dude I know I normally don't post fandom stuff here but I just finished Arcane

Idk spoilies under the cut I guess

And um excuse me what the fuck

What the FUCK

I don't even CARE that Cait and Vi got their good ending, they're about the only ones that did! What about, oh, idk, everyone else????

And YES of course I squealed and whisper-yelled 'They did the forehead touch!' for Victor and Jayce but C'MON

Yes fated to meet in every lifetime lovely lovely why did they have to die

Also tf were they doing in the alternate timeline Ekko visited? I really wanted to know but nobody cares I guess

(If anybody wants to send me fic of them being cute and domestic my ask box etc. are wide the fuck open)

I'm so mad. I'm actually so mad. They better release some kind of companion... thing that fixes some of this

[amberskyyking]

Brainworms got me. Tech lives and I have words about it.

***CONTAINS BBS3 FINALE SPOILERS***

Implications Of Being Alive

Chapter 2 - Serving Purpose (This Might Be Banthashit)

CX-2 raised an eyebrow. The thief threw and caught a piece of fruit in the air as he departed, an entirely useless maneuver, it accomplished nothing and was unlikely to serve as an adequate challenge to improve any of his skills. It would serve him better to consume it rather than play with it, given the obvious signs of malnutrition he displayed, from the slack in his cheekbones to his sunken eyes.

The adolescent female watched him go, turning to follow his retreat back into the mines, but the moment he vanished her head bowed in thought. CX-2 felt a tug of concern, which it shouldn’t - And it flinched as it remembered as much, bracing itself to receive punishment for its deviance -

But no punishment came. The scene felt frozen, the girls back to it, turning something over in her head. They had just experienced success, had they not? Humanoids were fickle, it was aware of this, but the idea of one being troubled at a time like this was curious.

If no electric shocks were coming now, there was nothing to stop him from discovering why and adding it to its databanks. Simply for reference, if it was ever questioned. CX-2 dropped its arms loosely at its side and approached.

“What is it?” It questioned.

“The empire’s not the only threat,” She said, her voice sounding smaller than usual… Perhaps even afraid. “We’ve seen so many in the galaxy like Mokko.”

The Empire is only a threat to those who oppose it, is what it should have said. Or perhaps, Resisting is the Empire is futile, insurgents will be eliminated. Yet neither of those perfectly acceptable responses were what came out of its mouth.

“Unfortunately, yes,” He found himself saying instead, staring down at the girl and her sad, trusting eyes. No, that couldn’t be right. It adjusted his goggles, he… He missed his goggles, he had engineered them himself, they had been perfectly tailored to his own specific needs, when had he lost them? Why hadn’t he built a new pair?

It turned back to the rest of his batch and something twinged in his heart again. The girl was looking for assurance from him and it wasn’t quite sure why, but it… he… had a purpose here, that much was obvious. He gave the others an appraising look and chose his words carefully. “However… There are many like us out there, as well.”

Hunter carried one of the last crates onto their ship. Wrecker held his returned tooka doll tenderly in his massive hands. Crosshair… CX-2 wasn’t sure where Crosshair was just now, though logic dictated that he must be nearby. He reached out to give Omega’s shoulder a squeeze.

“And that’s something,” Tech reassured her, and a soft smile settled on her face, filling him with warmth seconds before a monotone alarm yanked it rudely from its stasis.

CX-2 was being activated. It blinked its eyes open, pushed itself upright, and shook its head. For what little sense the fragmented memories made, it hardly seemed worth the effort to purge them from its system completely, not without the treatments he used to receive to assist with that matter. They would only return, they always did, and wasting energy battling them only served to weaken it in the field. Yet it still would be required to empty itself before receiving its directives, so it did so quickly.

The warmth left its body as it did, but it merely shivered once and stood. Delaying further for a small malfunction such as that would be unacceptable. It exited the single bunk domicile with its face blank beneath the helmet, traveling the same path through the same halls of the same star destroyer as it had been for a decade.

There were only two places CX-2 typically reported to anymore. The same lift would take it to either, but today, it was to report up to Colonel Bragg’s suite, rather than down, to the medical bay. It experienced a brief twinge of relief at that, and quickly corrected the feeling before proceeding. There was no point preoccupying itself with that. It would serve whatever purpose the Empire determined was most useful. That was all it existed for. Nothing more.

Reminding itself of that had increased in difficulty as it aged, but it managed. Such challenges were to be expected for organics, and the Empire had not yet seen it fit to replace its remaining organic parts with anything more sophisticated.

It stopped short of the doorway, alerting the Colonel of its presence through the key pad just outside, and awaited entry. Thirteen minutes and fifty one seconds later, the door whirred open.

“CX-2,” Colonel Bragg spoke in her signature clipped tone, barely looking up from her datapad. “A small fleet of Rebel forces have gathered on Terova. Our intel indicates they are using an outpost on the outskirts of the Capital for munitions transfers.”

She gestured for CX-2 to step closer, and it obliged, turning its back to her the way it knew she wanted so she could transfer the data directly rather than waste time on words or formalities. A second later it felt the expected small jolt of a data stick plugging into a space on its spine directly between the shoulder blades, and it resisted the urge to pinch its back at the sensation, as it always did. The intel flooded into its mind directly and scrolled before its eyes in its helmet.

“Find them, eliminate their leader and neutralize their operation,” Colonel Bragg said with a bored sounding sigh.

CX-2 squinted at the data. It’s eyes were getting worse. It would need to update the visual filters in its helmet to compensate for that particular degradation. From the looks of this, though, it would be performing this operation alone. Its lips formed the barest frown. Working alone was typically preferred, however, with three separate objectives…

“Is there a problem, CX-2?”

“There is not,” CX-2 said blandly, but it paused and considered. Even if the TK troopers were utterly incompetent, it had learned that they had their uses. Their confusing logic, unpredictable behavior patterns, and overall lack of skill could be weaponized as distractions or bait, which could be beneficial in this situation.

“Will I have a squad?” It asked before it could remember not to.

Colonel Bragg huffed behind it. “If a squad was necessary you would be given one already,” She said pointedly. “If this mission is beyond your capabilities then perhaps you have served your purpose.”

No, CX-2 didn’t feel that, it didn’t feel much of anything, but the cold from earlier briefly turned to ice at the statement nonetheless. It knew better. It wasn’t its place to question orders, it existed to accomplish objectives… Didn’t it?

It swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge that at one point, it was nearly certain it had served a different purpose, completely ignoring the traitorous idea that his current one had the potential to be…

Banthashit, one of his “brothers” sneered derisively in his head.

“Good,” Colonel Bragg said, apparently taking its silence as compliance. “I’ll need a full report upon your return.”

The data stick was yanked from the back of its neck. It didn’t wince.

“Dismissed.”

CX-2 marched back out of the office without a single look back. It had a mission. The intel flickered through its mind as it walked and it easily divided its attention between navigating to the hangar and analyzing everything it knew about its targets to form a potential plan and identify exploitable weaknesses.

A minimum of five rebel pilots had been spotted, two identified. One, known in the database only as Cy, was a former Clone Trooper turned traitor, though his CT number was unknown. No matter. A traitor reg may as well be a dead reg. The other was its primary target, the young rebel identified as the leader of this particular effort, a female twi-lek named Hera Syndulla. There was a secondary warning attached in the file to neutralize her C1 unit quickly and with prejudice if it was encountered.

CX-2 would never underestimate a droid, though seeing that the last operative to encounter it had left its body count in the notes was moderately surprising.

In any case, it had been warned. It would fulfill the objectives or be terminated in the attempt. CX-2 slipped into the cockpit of its designated ship, engaged the engines, and piloted it free of the hanger, its mind engrossed in the details of the mission. Once given the all clear, it locked its coordinates, effortlessly executing a sharp swing turn with zero thruster pull to point towards Terova, and punched the hyperdrive.

The ship was encased in glimmering streaks of blue, but not before an excitable voice in the recesses of its mind mis-identified the move as a Tech Turn.

It… It wondered if Tech had liked that name.

FULL STORY HERE!

Chapter 1 HERE!

Chapter 2 HERE!

I’m mostly on A03 so hey. ❤️