#vlad skips leg day

[braisedhoney]

answer her questions vlad. why do you skip leg day vlad.

(more of this bc honestly, dani deserved so much better. also learning how to draw dani.)

still inspo from @lilianade-comics au where vlad sucks less! kind of! but also just generally a decent parent vlad au lmao.

(do not tag as ship. pls.)

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part 1 of 6)

+18 Minor DNI

Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader

🪄 re-uploaded because I had to make a new account.

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

3333 words

Warnings contain spoilers: domestic assault, cheating, swearing, name-calling, gaslighting, threats, and mentions of killing partner, general violence. Every chapter after this, will have Rafe as the focal point.

📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕

✨“Stopping in your tracks, you watch the tall blonde struggle to break free. He grits his teeth, fighting against the cuffs, his broad chest gaping at the buttons of his black button-down shirt. He looks like he’s been through it; a gashed lip, the bottom of his pressed shirt half-tucked, his hair messy and sweaty against his dewy, tanned skin.”✨

*blue font is present day

Reader’s POV:

Red wine, Tony’s favorite, Cabernet Sauvignon specifically. Tokara Telos, the first bottle of wine we shared on our very first date. Fitting for our two year anniversary. Slowly swirling the glass you watch the rich red wine cascade down the side. You look at the oven, eyeing the clock, watching a second hour pass. Nine… Dinner was set for seven. Where the hell is he? Maybe he texted me? Maybe he’s in a business meeting gone long or wrong?

Unread to read. Your heart skips a beat as you watch the three dots impatiently; Tony finally acknowledging you, letting you know where the fuck he is and what the hell he’s doing.

Nothingness.

The three dots disappear leaving behind the disappointing chain of messages.

Is he with someone else?

I hate that that’s where my mind goes first, since he’s assured me time and time again he’s faithful and I’m paranoid. It’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt when there’s so much to doubt. Every excuse just sounds so fabricated with him, corroborated by his goons so I don’t have a leg to stand on.

Then there’s the talk around the country club… It’s just whispers, no real proof, but I swear it’s so goddamn loud. I’m rarely at the Island Club, but when I am, I can see the eyes on us. The cutting watch of women who Tony could possibly be seeing on the side; gossip shared just out of earshot. Everyones’ pity and focus always seems to be directed at me.

It’s embarrassing to feel like everyone knows my drama but me. No one opens their mouths. Ya know why? They’re scared… Scared of him. And I don’t blame ‘em. I’d be scared too.

So here I sit. Getting stood up by my boyfriend while he’s out doing god knows what, with god knows who, because he can. He can do whatever he’d like, break my heart, bruise my ego, because deep down I know there’s nothing I can do… The day I met him was the day I lost myself.

“Vlad,” you call from the kitchen, your voice bouncing off the walls of the lavish estate. “Vlad?”

“Miss?” Tony’s driver comes around the corner with a broad smile, taking in the smells of whatever lingers of the now cold pom de terre. “Smells delicious, Miss. I didn’t know you were a cook.”

“I’m not,” you sigh through a labored laugh. “Just thought I’d make what we had on our first date,” you hum, hearing the drunken slur in your own voice. Vlad cocks an eyebrow, clocking it instantly. “Umm… Dinner was supposed to be at seven,” you sough, gesturing with your glass toward the clock. “Do you know where he-”

“How was lunch with Anna?” He cuts you short, quickly changing the subject, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Where’s Tony,” you return, trying your best to level your wavering tone, dismissing his “pleasantries”.

“The office-”

“What office exactly?” You snip, knowing it’s the Law Firm or The Country Club. Vlad’s gaze casts to the floor. He shuffles his Italian leather boot anxiously, not as good with his “excuses” as the other men on Tony’s payroll. It’s a wordless answer nonetheless - The Country Club. “Can you take me there? I want to make sure he has some dinner. I’m assuming he’s been there all day. The meeting just went long?” You ramble, without a verbal answer from him, gathering your things to leave as the older man flounders.

"Miss…” He cautions you, taking his turn with a faltering tone, making matters worse for Tony.

“Is there an issue?” You ask as you lift an eyebrow in his direction.

“Mr. Marietta is in an important meeting. As you know, they’re not usually the safest situations, and he demands your safety. Tony expressed to me that he would be home late. Would you like me to call him and ask when he’ll be coming home?” You roll your eyes, chuckling in disbelief as you stroll past him.

“I am perfectly capable of that,” you breathe as you snag a new bottle of red wine, heading out the door.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦

The Country Club comes into sight, the gaudy neon sign flickering from a distance. The parking lot is packed, littered with cars; always jam-packed on the weekends. Kooks, Pogues, and tourists alike all brought together for their shared love of pussy.

“Park there,” you guide from the backseat as you spot Tony’s blacked-out Maybach truck parked under the streetlight. Vlad locks eyes with you through the rearview mirror.

“Would you like me to call him before you go inside, Miss?” You shake your head ‘no’ as you look out the window, drawing a deep, nervous breath before pushing out.

What am I walking into?

“Y/n?” Luis, Tony’s bodyguard and bouncer, calls from his seat outside the door. “What are you doin’ here?” He looks in all directions for watchers-on anxiously, the blood drained from his face like he’d just seen a ghost. Only a handful of people even know that Tony owns this shithole. To virtually everyone on the Island he’s just another Kook King. The Marietta to the Marietta and Klaus Law Firm. This is simply a front for something bigger, something Tony can use to wash his dirty drug money; a front. “You just missed Tony,” he lies through his gold-capped teeth.

“He’s here,” you smile as you step toward the door, grabbing the handle. Luis rests his large palm on top, looking down at you blankly. “He’s in a meeting, Miss.”

“And-” You ask as you twist the knob, but Luis doesn’t budge. “Move.”

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” you snap. Luis’s jaw tightens as he shakes his head ‘no’ standing firm. “You said he wasn’t here. Now he’s here and I can’t go in? That’s my fuckin’ boyfriend,” you hiss.

“I have orders, ma’am.”

“Orders?” You scoff.

“Orders-”

“Pussy,” you spit, turning on your heels, heading back where you came. Plan B. You pick up speed, clipping down the asphalt before he can intervene, following the line of men waiting outside, before slipping through the front door.

Your head hangs low as you walk through the dim, seedy hallway, pushing past patrons sauntering in and out of the gentlemen’s club. The main floor. I’ve never been here… The office is the farthest I’ve gone. You catch a few familiar faces from the Island Club, their eyes doubling in disbelief and shame for seeing you here and being seen themselves. Music blares as you storm toward the back; beautiful women dancing on the stage in nothing but Pleasers for the swarm of men gathered around, flicking and raining ones on the stage.

“Yes,” you gasp as you watch a stripper step out from behind the back-of-house door; catching it before it swings shut. Just a few paces and you’re there. You slide in your key and open the office door without a second thought, ripping off the bandaid.

Nothing… The office is dark, only the light of Tony’s laptop glowing in the empty post. Maybe he is gone. You step toward it, letting your heart rate settle as you circle his desk.

The corner of your lips curl into a trembling smile as you see a framed picture of the two of you on his desk. A post-it note affixed to the top with a reminder for tonight’s date.

Maybe I am paranoid… You pull out his large leather desk chair, taking a seat. Drawing a deep, needed breath, you let your shoulders fall, releasing some of your tension. It doesn’t explain why his truck is still here… Your eyes flash open, returning to the worry at hand landing on a bar napkin. Red lipstick.

Your stomach sinks as you hold the note, your eyes flicking to the laptop screen. Oh my god. Your heart shatters as you watch a blonde bounce on Tony’s lap, his lips locked on hers.

“No…”

“I know,” you sigh as you relax your head back onto the cold brick wall of Kildare County Jail, looking up at the ceiling.

“Did ya kill 'em?” The woman asks in a gruff tone as she crosses her arms over her chest, tits spilling out of her tattered, lace bralette as she snaps her gum. “S'that why you’re in here?”

“Thought about it? But no. That’s not why I’m here.” You open your heavy eyes, taking in your surroundings, contemplating all the choices that landed you here. The worst of it, ever being with him in the first place.

“So, what happened next?”

“Well…”

There’s a brief separation as Tony draws away from their kiss, staring toward the door of the Champagne Room. Luis… He must have figured it out. Tony pushes the stripper off his lap, gathering his clothes as he frantically dresses.

Here we go.

You hear the muffled bang of the first door and the gritting of his key working the lock on the second. You watch as the knob twists, light flooding the room as Tony pushes into the office coming toward you fast. Tony grabs your shoulders, and you fight him off. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” you snap.

“Baby, please. You gotta talk to me? What’s going on? Why are you so upset? Please just talk to me,” he pleads like he’s done before; times when I gave him the benefit of the doubt; times when I believed I could be the problem here. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Tony!” You cry. “Are you fuckin delusional? I saw you fuckin’ that stripper with my own two eyes.”

“Princess, she was just dancing. It was a lap dance. Alright? You have to believe me.”

“Just a lap dance…” You scoff looking down at his undone belt, zipper down, dress pants pitched from his hard-on. He follows your eyes, hastily zipping and fastening his pants closed.

“I don’t know what you think you saw-”

“We’re done,” you chuckle tiredly as you step back, throwing open the side office door. Tony immediately reaches for you, clawing for your arm. “Let go of me,” you struggle.

“You’re not leavin’,” he asserts, pulling you back inside.

“I am. I’m done with you. It’s our anniversary, Tony. Look at where you are. Look at what you’re doing. How could you do this to me?”

“Do what? It was just a dance. I just got out of a major deal. Alright? I was about head home-”

“Liar!”

“Liar?” He questions. “Did you just call me a liar?” He asks as you feel the sting of his blunt fingernails digging into your arm.

“I know what I saw…”

“Princess… Even if I was lying. What the fuck are you gonna do about it. Huh? You’re mine, bitch. I own you. Where are you gonna go? What money do you have? How are you gonna afford this lifestyle you’ve become so accustomed to? Spending my hard-earned money like the gold-digging slut you are. You should be grateful,” he snarls as he steps toe-to-toe with you using his free hand to tug his leather belt from the loops of his pants.

You look up into his dark eyes as cruel words spit so readily from his wicked lips like he’s had time to prepare. I’ve seen this side of him, only once. He’s an evil man, and I know that. But this sort of cruelty has never been reserved for me. Until today. He grips his belt a little tighter in his fist making you take a few steps back but he stalks closer.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he threatens.

“I am,” you whisper as you try to remain firm.

“I don’t think you understand this relationship we’ve got goin’ on, sweetheart. You go when I say you go,” he growls, tracing the belt along your bare thigh. “Do you think you’ll have a life after me? You think I’ll allow that shit.” He winds up smacking it against your skin. You gnash your teeth in pain, holding back tears, the most horrifying part knowing he could go far harder. “You know too much. You’re a liability. You have nothing. You are nothing without me. And you will be nothing without me.” Chills fall down your spine at his words and the crazed look in his eyes, his pupils blown from coke, pleasure, and rage.

“M'not scared of you.”

“You’re not. Huh? My tough girl.” He leans in; lips draw to your neck, kissing your pulse point, your rapid heartbeat calling your bluff as you inhale Cassidy’s cheap perfume lingering on his skin. You pinch your eyes shut as his large hand threads into your hair, tugging slightly while the other soothes your stinging thigh with his rough palm.

“I came from nothing, Tony. I’ll be fine.”

He scoffs as he uses his grasp on your strands to shove you away, letting the back of your head and body bang against the side door. Tony buttons up his still-undone shirt; bright red lipstick stained on the collar as well as his neck, a dark hickey forming to boot. Tears roll down your cheeks as you stand there defeated in your date night dress, your perfect makeup now streaming down your cheeks as you look into his soulless eyes.

“Fuck you, Tony.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he chuckles as he pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear, placing it between his lips before snapping his lighter. “You leave, and I’ll find you. I own Figure 8, princess. Hell, I own this whole damn island. You better not make it too hard on me, baby doll. It’s our anniversary, after all. I’m sure you got somethin’ pretty for Daddy under that little dress of yours. I know you like it rough… but you might not make it out this time,” he laughs as he tosses his belt roughly toward his desk, the picture of the two of you clattering and shattering on the floor.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Me? Never… But if my hands are wrapped tight enough around that pretty little throat of yours and you don’t have enough juice to shout our safe word that’s on you, angel.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll give you a 5 minute head start, love. That seems fair?”

You grab the door and pull it open, taking a few steps before turning around again, pressing your back against the cool door, holding it shut as you look for an out. Luis is gone from his post, most likely keeping watch on the opposite end, Vlad in the parking lot, open water on the other side. There’s no way I can go back home. No family close by. No car. No escape. Looking out into the busy parking lot, you watch a squad car slow-roll through the back of the lot. Perfect.

Thank you, Luis. You reach down, snagging his Louisville Slugger perched against the weathered barstool. "Miss?” You hear his bodyguard’s frantic voice as he rounds the corner. You run into the lot as fast as your feet can take you, swerving around cars; dodging Luis.

You slam your eyes shut, swinging hard, nailing Tony’s Maybach truck, shattering the glass. The car alarm blares, echoing through the large lot. “Y/n!” Luis yells, but you swing and swing again.

“Y/n!” Tony barks from the door. You point the bat in his direction, twirling it before knocking off the wing mirror and sending it flying. A second siren fires, the sound of the police cruiser blares through the night, competing with the truck as it gets closer and closer.

You nail the glass, shards spilling into the truck as the cruiser pulls up, moving to the front of the vehicle you make your delinquency visible, quickly knocking out each headlight while the deputies climb out of their vehicle. “Get on the ground. Get on the ground now!” They holler.

“Deputy, this… this is a misunderstanding,” Tony assures as he enters the lot, softening his voice again.

“No, it’s not. And if I had a knife, I’d slash your tires, asshole.” The officers grab for you, expecting a fight, ultimately getting the latter. You cross your arms behind your back, smiling at Tony as they lock you in cuffs.

"Well, shit,” the older woman chuckles as she pulls you back to reality.

“Mhmm… but I’m a liability. After that little stunt I pulled, I know I’m living on borrowed time. Jail is the only place I could leave and be safe for the night. It’s just a band aid though; a temporary fix. I’m sure he’ll bail me out any minute, but who knows what’ll happen? I want to show him I’m not afraid.”

She purses her lips, debating whether to ask the million dollar question. “Are you?” She asks somberly.

“I wish I wasn’t-”

“L/n, someone just bailed your ass out. Let’s go,” an officer calls from outside the cell. The woman beside you taps your leg, giving you a little nod.

“He lays a finger on you, honey, I got no problem comin’ back here.”

“Thank you,” you whisper before turning toward the officer, giving her a wide, fake smile.

You rise to your feet, fixing your dress as you walk to out-processing. “To the left.”

Shupe matches your gaze from his post, giving you a wary glance. “M'am, are these your belongings?” He asks as he holds up the plastic bag of goods. You give him a soft smile and a nod. “Sure you got nothin’ you wanna tell me, Miss F/N L/N. Now’s the time,” Shupe warns. “You know, it’s Tony who posted your bail. He’s waitin’ for you outside-”

“I’m fine. Just fine, Deputy,” you assure as you fish your lipstick out from your clutch, slicking it on in the reflection of the privacy glass. “It was nothin’. Just a misunderstanding, as I said.”

“Just fine? Trashing Mr. Marietta’s Maybach truck was nothing? Just a normal night for the two of you?” He asks sarcastically.

You look at him and smile, dead-eyed and defeated. “It was our anniversary, actually.” Shupe’s eyes widen at yours, the occasion making your story even more unbelievable. “Have a great day, Deputy.”

“This is not a beauty pageant,” the female officer grunts, shooing you toward the exit.

I don’t know if I made the right choice… but I’m not gonna snitch. If I want to survive, I’m going to have to be strategic.

“I’m cooperating. Ain’t I?” You hear a deep voice echo down the hallway.

Stopping in your tracks, you watch the tall blonde struggle to break free. He grits his teeth, fighting against the cuffs, his broad chest gaping at the buttons of his black button-down shirt. He looks like he’s been through it; a gashed lip, the bottom of his pressed shirt half-tucked, his hair messy and sweaty against his dewy, tanned skin.

His eyes match yours; even from a distance, you can see how blue they are. His entire demeanor shifts, softening as a smile pulls on his pretty lips. A smile so beautiful, you can’t help but return the same.

There’s something magnetic about him, an intensity drawing your focus to him like a moth to a flame. He winks, and in that instant, everything changes. There’s no mistaking the connection swelling between you.

“Hey,” he mouths; your breath catches in your chest, pulse-quickening as time slows to a snail’s-pace. He looks at you until the last minute before being shoved inside his confinements. The metal door slams shut, jarring you from your daze, the bustle of the jail building from the solace in your mind.

Who was that?

It was momentary… a fleeting beat. The calm before the storm. You get pushed along, shoved toward the exit, and away from a sweet dream, thrown straight into a nightmare.

Part 2

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[missadmyre]

Secret Trio + Detentionaire Physique HCs

Randy Cunningham

-he gains scars/wounds due to the suit not always being able to sense an attack quickly, thus not being able to register enough magic shield(?) to protect him (it ain't a robot y'all)

- because of his scars, he mostly skips getting dressed at the boy's locker room during Gym class

- he dresses at the bathroom stalls, though there are times when either Bucky or Julian had caught him shirtless in the bathrooms, they quickly learn to shut their mouths once they realize that "oh shit, this guy has lots of scars, might beat us up if we say anything"

- most of his scars are caused either because of incisions, scratch marks (Tengu!Howard's claws) or those black and blue bruises/blunt trauma because he keeps getting flung onto the walls

- there are burn marks scattered on his torso due to the  incident; one time, Jake lost control of himself and turned into a feral dragon because of some drug he inhaled, wasn't a very good time for both parties.

- there's two large scratch marks on both side of his hips because of Danny, who wasn't able to control obsessive urges as a ghost, thanks a lot Vlad, you traumatized them both

- he doesn't have the broadest shoulders but he has pretty damn good legs

- is very flexible

- he does gymnastics and acrobatics on a daily basis

- broke the school record of having the highest jump - his legs are far more muscular due to him always kicking at his opponents

- man has thighs for days

- he has excellent grip strength

- he managed to crush a watermelon using his thighs, go figure

- on a side note, the reason why his chest (specifically, where his heart is) is bare of any scars is because that is his sensitive spot

- the skin on his chest is very thin, so he tries his best to dodge an attack or at least lead the scar somewhere not near his heart

- there are times where his scarf is used against him (ie. choking, to swing him around) so he has faint marks of strangulation around his neck

- very docile than the others

- which is why has longer legs

- he excels more at meelee combat, his weakest is ranged combat

- the Nomicon taught him martial arts; karate, judo etc., which very much amplified his leg power

- you see those heightened senses he has? Yeah let's abuse that.

- he's not that sensitive (he can still enjoy loud parties and crap) but there's a limit to it.

Danny Fenton

- he can only gain wounds/scars when he is on his human form, though there are times when villains had been able to slip through that slit of a moment and managed to damage him while transforming in/out as the Phantom

- his scars mostly consist of large burn marks, chemical burns (from handling ectoplasm as a human), incisions and blunt trauma

- is the only one that have chemical burns

- the large gash on the right side of his torso is from the time when a yokai was able to slash him when he was transforming into the Phantom

- it was also the first wound that Randy was able to heal using the Art of Healing (feelings ensue~)

- he earned some scratch marks from Tengu!Howard, who clearly doesn't like him (he still doesn't know why that roasted chicken hates him, but damn well he does he enjoy teasing the guy)

- has the broadest shoulders

- bro doesn't pull his punches, LITERALLY!

- he has way bigger hands than Randy and Jake

- he punches more than he kicks, thus earning him a pretty heavy fists

- I feel bad for the human that would be unfortunately in the way of Danny's punch

- his biggest achievement is being able to knock down Biffy with his punches in just 10 seconds

- Biffy still hasn't forgiven him for that

- is trying to not get scars on his face due to the fact that his parents had once suspected him of being a gangster when they saw the little scar on the left side of his chin

- thankfully Jazz is able to cover up for him (I mean, getting that scar from shaving? Please)

- his weak spot are definitely his face and legs

- his legs are not the most steady due to him getting way too used to flying, kick him hard on the ankles and he'll fall immediately

- most chemical burns are seen on his hands, he got them from when ectoplasm would sometimes leak out of some Fenton weaponry (most notably, the Ecto Foamer) and he wasn't able to notice it as a human

- the strangling scar on his right wrist came from the long hours of getting cuffed in Ghost Prison, it was so bad the scar stayed even on his human form (he managed to escape but it still hurt y'know)

- his skin color is somewhat pale-ish tan

- since he's half dead, his wounds either don't heal or just heal very slowly, that's why he's careful not to get hit

- on the occasion that he did get a wound but his body wasn't able to heal it, he'll ask Randy for his Art of Healing

- he excels on both hand-to-hand and ranged combat, he has far more experience with guns/laser guns but he still takes lessons of gun handling from Lee

Jake Long

- most of his scars are found on his chest

- his scars include burn marks, scratch marks (Howard! Really?!), strangulation marks on both wrists and neck, a cauterized wound and incisions

- has the most burn marks than anyone on the trio

- the scratch marks from his arms came from his habit of scratching himself when trying to hold his anger

- my man still keeps getting picked on because of his height

- because of his recent molting, there are still dead skin flaking off of him, especially on his back

- the cauterized scar he has is something he both has good and bad memories to; when Jake lost control of himself as a dragon, he literally had to be put down in order to have Lee just treat his wounds, sadly the bandages weren't enough so they had to cauterize the wound using his OWN flame, at least Randy was comforting him through all that

- y'know kung fu, yeah he mastered that

- is very flexible in using both his hands and feet to fight AS a human

- in Dragon form (s1 design bc wtf is that shit from s2), he's a bit more feral as animalistic urges kick in

- it's because of that kind of behavior that he sometimes run straight into danger, earning him all kinds of wounds

- he has stitches all over his back because he got whipped one too many times at the auction incident (he still gets the chills everytime he thinks about it)

- it's also because of that incident that he gained strangulation marks on his neck and wrists because they treated him like an animal, cuffing him and all that

- to get those muscles, he went through a training arc

- you think Howard hating Danny is bad, well check out these two

- Howard and Jake are like, two pets that are fighting for their owner's love (or attention, Howard isn't going to touch that garbage fire called the Ectoham x Longham relationship)

- the moment Randy turns around, they are fighting all over the place, thus having the most scratch marks

- his weakness is his height, surprise surprise!

- when he's on his human form, it's hard to land a hit on an enemy who's clearly way taller than you

- when he's on his dragon form, his big height often causes him to trample or not be aware of unnoticeable traps

- he also can't balance himself when in dragon form, especially when he flies since his wings aren't the type to be able to easily dodge obstacles (it's just hard to make an adjustment when it's a sudden decision and you're up in the air)

- because he breathes literal fire, he always has a hot temperature, those who knew him just let's it be  it but when other people touch him, they would question if he has a fever

- his appetite is very big because... energy, the problem is that he has very high metabolism, so while he looks malnourished, he's actually taken what, like 2 boxes of pizza a minute ago (and about to take another one right now, dammit Spud, you're wasting too much money)

- have the sharpest nails there is, mostly likely because of his dragon form has it that it also integrated to his human form

- despite not being able to balance himself AS a dragon, he actually does quite well AS a human, being able to stand on poles/tightropes and shit

- those meditation lessons from his Gramps really did help huh

- he excels at hand-to-hand combat

Lee Ping

- he doesn't get that many scars since he doesn't fight opponents as much as the Secret Trio

- but when he does get a wound, it's mostly just blisters, on some cases, he would have burn marks or incisions

- since he always crawls through vents or tight spaces, he always has blisters skidded all around his arms and legs

- the burn marks came from when he would accidentally get hit from those robot's laser guns on Detentionaire (do they even have a name? But seriously, they hurt like hell, believe him)

- the large stitch across his torso is a very painful memory to look back on (he got captured by Cassandra and was about to get experimented on since he has the power to nullify any and all mind control, he was cut open and was about to be dissected when Biffy, Cam and Holger had caught up to him and set him free from there operating table, the other surgeons got killed while Cassandra got away)

- there are faint scratch marks on his shoulders BUT that is due to the tazelwurm sometimes sheathing it's claws on him accidentally (thank you Howard! Wtf did this guy do to you?)

- by far the most slimmest out of everyone in the group

- which is good because he's got to fit into those tight spaces to do "Lee Ping Spywork"

- can do basic gymnastics

- he's learned some basic and advanced self defense from the Serpent/Li, since he thought it would be useful if his younger brother can beat the shit out people when necessary

- the tallest (not including Biffy) out of the group

- has a scar caused by a stab wound somewhere in his right leg caused by Kimmy when she got transformed into some vicious tazelwurm hybrid, she got killed by Holger but he didn't know it was her (those who knew aren't planning on telling him that he just killed a person or he'll freak the fuck out)

- Biffy doesn't know she got killed, Lee isn't telling that information unless he wants a Biffy going nuts all over the place

- only him and Brandy know about Kimmy's death

- he can fence, he picked it up again when he saw the Secret Trio trying to train with long bladed weaponry so he tried to get some experience in being able to wield a weapon

- handles guns way better than the Secret Trio

- has the weakest punch, they all make fun of him for that

- he is the group's healer, he knew first aid very well and he isn't afraid stitch and treat a wound that is way too tender for the Secret Trio to heal

- he only knew how to stitch wounds because he experiments on his body (would it close if I do this kind of stitch? How about here, is it thin enough?)

- because of his experiments, he isn't able to register pain anymore, his poking and prodding at his skin nullified any jolt of pain

- wears gloves on his left hand because there is a lichtenberg scar on it that is colored toxic turquoise green, he ain't letting Barrage see that and be reminded of the pyramid incident

- which glows when the pyramid subconsciously gives him a power boost or something (heightened strength and senses)

- at first he tried to cover it with bandage but since it glows, it didn't work so they settled on the black glove

- excels in ranged combat

HEIGHT COMPARISON [FULL PICTURE]

[five-rivers]

Banshee

It took months for him to realize it, but ever since the accident that took half his life, Danny could sense the approach of death.  He could, metaphorically speaking, hear the fall of their footsteps, the wind whistling over their scythe. 

The length of time was because, in the modern world, the dying are segregated.  Kept away in homes or hospitals.  Not out and about where teenagers could run into them.  Certainly, people died in public only infrequently. 

But death is an unavoidable fact of life.  Sooner or later, he was always going to run into it, and he did. 

The first time was in the park, on a peaceful, ghost-free day.  Maybe that was surprising, considering how often he got into violent, dangerous fights.  Maybe it was just the universe being kind for once.  He’d been walking past a group of elderly people playing chess when he felt a prickling in his eyes.  The prickling turned into tears.  Tears he couldn’t stop until Sam and Tucker dragged him away. 

They chalked it up to a freak act of teenage hormones and left it at that. 

Except, that wasn’t the last time it happened.  A car wreck.  A day at a restaurant.  An ordinary walk down the street.  In the middle of a ghost fight, where Danny saved a civilian from being crushed by rubble and barely registered that his tears stopped in the same moment. 

But he didn’t put things together until that time he and Sam visited Tucker in the hospital, after he broke his leg. 

It wasn’t a power Danny had any desire to experiment with, but like all of his powers, not knowing the limits of it felt irresponsible at best.  Although most adults wouldn’t consider Danny responsible, between skipped classes, missing homework, and staying up until dawn to play video games, the fact was that Danny took his responsibilities very seriously.  He just had to prioritize, sometimes. 

(Also, he was a teenager.  If he didn’t have some fun now and again, he’d shrivel up and die.  Playing video games was one of the few fun things he could do at all hours.)

Eventually, between himself, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, they worked out that this power only activated, for lack of a better word, when the death was going to happen within twenty-four hours, and usually much less than that, such as in the case of things like almost-getting-squished-by-rubble. 

The good thing was that for some things, Danny could intervene.  But for others, there was nothing he could do.  He could stop cars, but not strokes.  He could give CPR, but not a new heart.  He could tell people to go to the doctor, but there wasn’t any cure for old age.

And that was assuming he could find the person and figure out what was wrong in the first place.  He couldn’t always. 

Which led to things like the current situation. 

.

Regardless of supernatural goings-on, school was a blessed constant.  A point of stability when everything else threatened to dissolve.  Danny’s friends were there.  Ghost hunters weren’t going to burst in without warning.  People regularly practiced evacuating. 

Was it his favorite place?  No.  But even Vlad couldn’t just shut down a public school.  So, even when Danny resented it, he appreciated school. 

Worst thing that could happen, outside of a ghost attack, was Dash sticking him in a locker, and Danny had figured out how to pick them from the inside.  He did so now, and hopped out, sneakers squeaking a little on the linoleum. 

Today was a completely normal day.  He’d walk into class late, get scolded and marked tardy, sit through a lecture that was both boring and confusing, finish up the day with more of the same, and hang out with Sam and Tucker after school.  Maybe do some homework.  Patrol at night, since tomorrow was Saturday. 

Normal. 

Maybe if he repeated it often enough, it’d be true. 

He trudged down the hallway, having made himself depressed.  If he went faster, maybe the teacher wouldn’t be too upset, but it wasn’t his fault that Dash was a troglodyte. 

He reached the door and paused, his eyes were stinging.  Had he gotten something in them, or…?

Or…

The tears began to fall. 

Oh, no.  Oh, no.  This couldn’t be happening here.  Not now.  Not–  No.  It couldn’t be happening to someone in his class, or– His teacher?  Could it be the teacher, Mr. Falluca?

He opened the door slowly. 

“Thank you for joining us, Danny,” said Mr. Falluca.  “I’ll be marking you tardy for– Are you alright?  Why are you crying?”

“Uh,” said Danny, scanning the room.  No one looked hurt or anything, but he of all people knew how to hide injuries.  Just because they didn’t look hurt–  Wait, could it be someone in one of the neighboring classes?

How did someone die at school anyway?

Wait, no, stupid question.  He knew people who had died at school. 

“Lockers,” he said.  The word was hard to force out.  He took a few steps back, and looked to the lockers on either side of the door.  They weren’t made to be easy to see into. 

But… 

Danny put his hand on one of the lockers. 

“Danny?” said Mr. Falluca, having come to the door.

“I think someone’s stuck in here,” said Danny.  “I don’t think they’re conscious.” 

Falluca blinked and withdrew before coming back with his key ring.  “If this is some sort of joke,” he started, warningly, fishing a key labeled ‘locker master’ in tiny script from the mass of jingling metal. 

Mikey tumbling, unconscious, from the locker wasn’t a joke. 

.

So.  The day wasn’t normal. 

That was okay.  Disaster (death) had been averted.  Mikey would be… not fine, but alive.  Danny was also fine.  Mostly.  Even though he was currently in (the front seat) of a police car. 

The police had wanted to know how Danny had noticed that Mikey was in the locker, so he’d had to stay for a while after.  They were bringing him home now.  Mom had sent him a text a few minutes ago to let him know they had ordered pizza from his favorite place for lunch, and Jazz had just come home from picking it up. 

The policeman parked in front of his house.  “You’ll be okay, kid?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, jumping out as fast as he could.  “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.”

Danny took the stairs to the front door two at a time, and more or less barreled through the door at top speed.  He was hungry and tired and stressed and wanted that pizza, darn it. 

At the door into the dining room, he stopped. 

The corners of his eyes started to prickle. 

[luveline]

could i request “such a strange girl” with vampire eddie? maybe eddie’s teasing her on how silly she is just she’s just like no ur strange >:)

join luveline's halloween party ♡

tysm for ur req!!! vampire!eddie x ditzy!fem!reader (love bites universe)

You're sitting in bed, Eddie's face plastered against one thigh and a sketchbook over the other. It's difficult to focus on sketching with a hand buried in his hair, raking through dark curls with a light enough touch to send shivers down his back.

He's half asleep. Your loving touches rouse him, and he blinks up from between your legs in question. "What?" he asks.

"What?" you ask in return. "I didn't say nothing."

"Your heart went funny."

You know it's because you were looking at him. He's maddeningly pretty no matter how deathly pale he becomes. This far into the month he's more hungry (or rather, thirsty) than not, and any human characteristics have settled. You haven't seem him blush in days, and he's an icebox. It's why you've pulled a blanket over him while he dozes.

You don't want to admit it had been from looking at him, so you defer to your sketchbook behind his head. "Got the heebies."

Eddie kisses your thigh under his mouth quickly and then turns in your lap, pushing up on his elbow to see what you've been sketching. "Yeah, I can see why that would make your heart skip. It's really good, baby. Super realistic."

You revel in his praise.

Eddie looks up at you abruptly. You blink at him.

"Why'd do you draw spiders if they give you the creeps?"

"They're cool."

"They make your skin crawl," he argues, his face close enough to see the individual colours of his irises. Like honey shot through by sunlight, a melty brown that practically oozes.

Your breath hitches. He flares his eyes at you.

"See! You only have to think about them and your heart does this little bumping thing like you missed the last step," he says, both enamoured and bemused.

"They're scary but they're pretty, too," you argue. "Like you."

He pretends to glare at you. "You're so weird."

"Says you, Vlad."

His glare turns authentic. "You know how I feel about Dracula."

[lapetitechatonne]

Day Two: Mistaken Identity

day two of dp/dc week 2022!!! this one gets a bit dark too, if panic attacks trigger you i’d suggest skipping. as always, the ao3 tags are there for a reason! anyways, i cried while writing this one so. good luck.

ao3 link!

Kate’s Masterlist here!

in the dark all shadows look the same - 2.5k words

It was actually a nice night, Danny thought as he looked out over the Gotham City skyline. You still couldn’t see the stars, but the breeze was warm and the fog had lifted for the night. The full moon lit up the sky over the inky water of the bay as it crashed against the rocky shore.

In a different time and place, he could see himself staying in a place like this. Full of life—full of ectoplasm—and with someone else to watch over its people. Somewhere his obsession would quiet to a dull thud in the back of his head because there was someone else taking care of the criminals and terrorists. Maybe he would help the odd old lady cross the street or give a homeless kid a hot meal, but he wouldn't have to protect.

He tightened the wrap around his thigh, just trying to get the bleeding to stop knowing that in this life, he’d probably never know anything close to peace.

Rude.

“Danny,” a quiet whisper barely carried over the noisy streets.

He turned to Danielle who was sitting up against the brick wall behind her. She was doubled over in pain holding her abdomen, her blue eyes glassy and distant.

He tied off the wrap and slid back next to her, pulling her into him. He hissed as the tender bruises on his back came in contact with the jagged brick, but luckily Danielle didn’t notice. Hopefully, he could convince her into sleeping at least for a few hours before they had to move on.

They were sitting ducks up here, he knew that the church under them would confuse anything Vlad was using to follow them, but it wouldn’t last for long—he would've gone of a hospital or graveyard but it'd be too obvious.

At least they grabbed enough supplies that they didn’t have to worry about stealing from a hospital. Danny hated hospitals—the worst kind of liminal spaces in his opinion—but that didn’t mean he wanted to rob one. He knew how precious life was.

Danielle whimpered, leaning her weight onto Danny’s shoulder. She was warm, warmer than even a human should be, which wasn’t a good sign.

Danny felt the dull, ever-present panic in his ribs grow. His chest tightened and he fought back the tears trying to build up, he couldn’t do this right now. He couldn’t.

He tried to count his breaths like Jazz taught him to.

In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three four. Out, two, three, four.

His lungs hurt. So did his ribs and his legs and his back—and everything.

In, two, three, four.

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block out the light.

Hold, two, three, four.

He just wanted to go home.

Out, two, three, four.

He just wanted to be safe.

He lost focus on his breathing as he choked over a shallow sod. His head started to spin like he was freefalling through air without anything there to catch him. His limbs tingled and suddenly he was very aware of how weak he was.

He was too weak. Too weak to tell his parents the truth, too weak to protect Danielle, too weak to fight Vlad—

Too weak too weak too weak too weak too weak—

He gasped as he felt Danielle tighten her hold on him. Her tiny hands held him with an iron clad grip.

He pulled her closer, winding his arms around her until he was clutching her like a child with a teddy bear. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against him. Could feel her body heat against his cold. Could hear the rhythmic beating of her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He breathed in time with her heartbeat. She was here. She was alive. He would keep her safe.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The breeze chilled the tear tracks running down his cheeks. He was alive. He would be okay.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

They both would. He didn’t know how, but he had to believe that. He had to.

“I love you,” Danny felt more than heard Danielle as she muttered into his chest.

A new wave of tears pushed against his sinuses, pressure building behind his eyes.

“I love you too.” His words were garbled and broken, but Danielle seemed to understand because she just held him tighter.

He felt bad that she was comforting him—after all, how many nightmares and knee scrapes did Jazz get him through, he should be able to handle this just like she did—but she was a grounding presence in a turning world. He wasn’t sure he knew up from down right now, all he knew was he wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t strong enough. Quick enough. Brave enough,

He wasn’t. He wasn’t, he wasn’t he wasn’t hewasn’thewasn’thewasn’t—

His heart stuttered as he felt himself spiraling like an invisible hand reached deep into his chest and twisted his heart until it was upside down. His stomach pulled taught until his insides threatened to tear, bile biting at his throat.

He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

“Danny!” He felt more than heard her panic, her hands digging into his tender skin.

Focus. He had to focus.

He fought through his cloudy vision, looking down at Danielle. Her eyes were wide with fear, focused on a singular point over his shoulder. Danny twisted around to follow her gaze, it wasn’t like her to get—

Oh no. No, no, no, nonononononono—

The moonlight lit up a dark silhouette, with two distinct points at the top.

Vlad found them. He found them.

He couldn’t breathe. Every hair on his body stood up and he scrambled to push Danielle behind him. The ectoplasm in his chest jumped to life, mixing with the sudden rush of adrenaline.

But he was still too weak from their last fight to properly fight. Danielle was barely keeping her body together—the best he could hope for was letting her get away, get help.

Get someone who could be enough.

“Danny,” she gripped his arm and back, voice cracking over desperate sobs, “what do we do?”

Danny let the green fill his eyes, he couldn’t transform but he could try and look as menacing as possible.

The figure moved closer and Danny scrambled back. As much as he wanted to fight, every inch of his body was begging him to flee, to run away and never look back. But he couldn’t leave Danielle. And he was too weak to hide the both of them.

Never enough, always too weak. Can’t do anything right, can’t protect anyone. What a waste of an afterlife.

His vision blurred at the edges, green light reflecting in the tears running down his face. He would protect her. He had to protect her. Even if it killed him.

“When I tell you to,” he whispered, his voice catching on almost every syllable, “run. Just run.”

She sobbed, holding his hoodie tighter, “No, I won’t leave you. I won’t—you can’t ask me to—”

“Promise me, Danielle,” he continued to inch backward as the shadow moved slowly stalking them, “Please. Just—please.” He needed her to be safe. Then he could die here in peace, knowing that the last few moments of his life were spent doing something good.

That he wasn’t a complete waste of life.

“I won’t leave you,” she said because a the end of the day she was too much like him, “not now, not ever. Please don’t ask me to.”

Danny felt his heart drop. So that was that. They would both die here.

That didn’t mean Danny was going to make it easy for the bastard. He would go down bleeding and biting because he wouldn’t die quietly.

He would die like a Fenton. Yelling and cursing and punching until he faded from existence. He hoped his parents would be proud. Jazz would be proud.

The shadow disappeared, leaping into the air and landing in a big black mass before them, still obscured by the darkness. His heart pounded in his chest as he dig his feet into the concrete beneath him. He pushed down the bile and the tears and the worries.

He raised his fist staring defiantly into the black void.

“You can’t have her. You can’t have either of us,” his voice was shaky but his conviction never wavered.

He let his fists glow green, pulling on the ectoplasm deep inside of him. This fight would take every ounce of power he had—and then more.

So he pushed every bit of his being into his glowing hands and shot at the figure. It was weak—just like him—but he couldn’t focus on that. Not now. Not when everything hinged on him pressing on.

He fired again. And again. And again.

Each bolt was weaker than the last, and the figure moved so quickly that Danny couldn’t even be sure he was hitting it. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t waiver.

His head was spinning, high-pitched ringing echoing in his ears, but he fired anyways. He tried to focus his vision but it kept going in and out like a bad radio frequency. The shadows morphed together and he couldn’t tell if it was because they were moving or because his vision was going black.

He took a deep breath but it wasn’t enough. It was like someone sucked all the oxygen out of his body, leaving him heavy and tingly all over.

Another bolt and his knees gave out underneath him. He crumbled to the ground, trying to hold himself up on all fours but his arms were too tired. They buckled, leaving him panting on the cold concrete, just trying to salvage enough energy to stay awake.

“Danny!" Danielle shouted, but it was echoey. Distant. Like she was a million miles away.

He twisted on the ground, trying to push himself up only to fall over again. In his shaky vision, he could see Danielle standing in front of him, her arms out. Protecting him.

Like he was supposed to be protecting her.

No, no no no no nonono.

She should be running away. She should leave him there, save herself—but he knew she never would.

They were too much alike. Now he would get the both of them killed.

He reached out to her, too weak to form words. But she stood in front of him, as stubborn as only a Fenton could be.

He didn’t want it to end like this. Not when there was so much for her to live for—for him to live for.

He’d never graduate. Never move in with Sam and Tucker like they promised, never see Jazz graduate Harvard, never take a road trip with Danielle. There was so much he’d never do. He’d never see.

His heart ached as he realized how much he wanted to live. How much he wanted both of them to live.

His eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep them open as he prayed to anyone—anything—that would listen.

He just wanted to live.

That was his last thought as the world around him was consumed by darkness.

Danielle had lived long enough to see the true evils of the world. Her father trying to kill her, the homelessness, the poverty, the hurt that thrived in every place that she visited.

But she’d also seen hope. She watched broken people heal, watched the poor lift each other up, seen the kindness that lived in the hearts of people. She’d seen enough to know she wanted to see more. To be someone’s light when they needed it most.

She stood in front of Danny, protecting him with her body, and even though she knew he’d never forgive himself she had to do this. The world needed him. It needed a hero like him.

Not some abomination like her.

“Leave him alone!” she yelled into the shadows. She didn’t have any real power, but maybe Vlad would accept her in his place. Maybe she could convince him that Danny was too valuable to die, that he should just kill her instead.

It was what he wanted after all. Without Danny in the way maybe—just maybe—he would be safe.

“Just—just take me,” she stumbled over sobs, trying to seem as courageous as she could—but she wasn't very good at that— “I’m the one you want. Kill me. Just me.” She whispered the last part, but she knew he would hear.

The large mass moved towards them, and she knew this was it.

She sobbed openly—because she wasn’t as fearless as Danny, she couldn’t face down death like he could. She closed her eyes, arms still out wide waiting for the inevitable. She just prayed he’d only take her. That his obsession with Maddie and Danny was enough to spare him.

The figure blocked out the little bit of light Danielle could see through her closed eyes. He was right in front of her.

She whimpered and all she wanted was to pull into herself. But she stood strong. Like Danny would. Like he had done for her. She hated that it was such a waste of effort, all those times he saved her from the brink. Maybe it would have been easier for all of them if he just let her die the first time.

But that wasn’t who Danny was. And she loved him for that. She loved him so much.

She hoped he knew that. Because she’d never get to tell him again.

But she could do this for him.

She flinched as a hand touched her shoulder. She expected it to grasp her tightly and pull her away from Danny. Maybe it would be filled with unbearable electricity or scalding flames.

But it didn’t do any of that. It just sat gently on her shoulder, like it was trying to reassure her. Trying to calm her.

But that didn’t make sense. Vlad’s touches, even his kind ones, were never gentle.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice was unnaturally deep, but there was a softness around the edges.

It could be a trick. A sick and twisted way to make her feel safe before ripping out her heart.

She took a deep breath, still trembling, and dared to open her eyes.

Through the darkness and the tears, it was hard to see, but the figure in front of her wasn’t ghostly at all. There was no glow, no piercing red eyes, only white slits where the eyes should be.

It was a mask. A cape. A costume.

It was Batman.

She actually laughed, watery and broken, seeing his face. Or mask. Or whatever.

It wasn’t Vlad. It wasn’t Vlad. They were okay. They were safe.

At least for the moment.

“I thought. We thought—” she wasn’t sure what to say as she lowered her arms and whipped the tears off her cheeks.

“You thought I was someone else?”

Danielle just nodded, feeling the blood rush to her head. She was so tired and dizzy and she hurt all over.

“Why don’t we get you somewhere safe, and then you can tell me about it?” he asked, and Danielle felt her lip tremble.

Not for a moment did she think he would want to help them, would care. But here he was, crouching in front of her offering them safety.

Danielle nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

There really was kindness in the world. Even in the most unlikely places.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Loving your work! If I may request a thing, we got Lisa, we got Vlad, can we get an Alucard too???? Have an amazing day!

Ask: Loving your work! If I may request a thing, we got Lisa, we got Vlad, can we get an Alucard too???? Have an amazing day! 

Ask: could you please continue modern reader with lisa and maibe some alucard x reader in there as well

A/N: I keep re-reading the first two parts just because they make me so happy thinking about what might’ve been. Of course, now that I know Lisa and Vlad end up together and are okay- I feel less awful rewatching S1. (That’s a lie, I have to skip that scene every time! 😭)

Fire Cannot Kill A Dragon (Part 3) 

In a flash, you, the good doctor, and the literal fucking Dracula appeared on the stone steps of what you assumed must’ve been their castle home. 

‘Holy fucking shit, this place is fucking huge!’ You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Standing before you was a colossal grotesque-looking castle. Extra towers and additions were maddeningly constructed, stemming from random points. The entire thing looked a holy mess of brick and mortar- a shrine to all that was powerful and wicked. You shuddered just thinking about the kind of beings who must have walked the halls of a structure so largely horrifying.  

Straining your neck back to get a good look, you found yourself wobbling out of the teleportation group hug you were just sandwiched in. 

“Are you alright?” The good doctor, Lisa, asked. 

You guffawed. “Am I, alright? Me?” You looked back and forth between her and the massive castle. Shaking your head in utter disbelief, you answered, “Oh yeah, I’m just peachy. Never better.” 

Dracula paid your sarcasm no mind, clearly having more important things to tend to. Gently, he scooped up his wife before walking towards the immense entrance doors. Much to your continued amazement, the giant doors swung open automatically, as if by a motion sensor, but you knew that couldn't be right. This was like medieval times, they wouldn't have fucking motion sensors and automatic doors just yet. 

You scurried after the two of them, being forced to take extra quick steps to keep up with Dracula’s rather large gait. 

If the outside of the castle was noteworthy, then the inside was incredible. A giant red velvet throne sat in the middle of a central grand staircase. A lavish red carpet with gold trim and marble stone floor work was illuminated with what looked very similar to electric lights. In fact, despite the spectacular architecture, the whole place seemed relatively modern. But that was another impossibility, right? 

“Wow,” you spun around, dazed. “When you said, castle, you weren’t kidding.” 

“I told you,” Lisa answered, calling from somewhere behind her husband’s broad back. 

“So, now what?” You asked, following the two of them up the grand steps. 

“Now you can wait here.” Dracula’s powerful voice reverberated around the otherwise empty throne room. 

Lisa placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “Vlad! She’s injured as well, she needs to come with us.” 

You could hear the broad man grumble but argue nothing further. 

Following the two of them, you walked for what seemed like ages before arriving in a brightly lit laboratory. Once inside the room, you could see there were wooden benches and tables covered in glass vials of varying shapes and sizes and open books strewn across every other available surface. You had no clue what the vials contained, but everything seemed important. And nestled in the farthest corner of the room was a series of cots. 

The giant man that was Dracula appeared to levitate as he wove through the crowded tables before arriving at the nearest cot and placing his wife on the bed. Once she was settled, Lisa gestured for you to come and join her. 

Hesitantly, you walked over to where she was seated, grimacing at an up-close view of her blistering feet. “I uh, know you said you're a doctor, but those look pretty bad.” 

Lisa crossed her left leg, lifting her foot up to get a proper view. She hissed, glancing up at your horrified expression. “They’ll look worse in a couple of days,” she said, before turning her attention to Vlad. 

“My love.” Dracula bent over to kiss his wife on the head, before returning to his imposing full height. “I swear to you, I will do whatever is necessary to make you well. You will not know this pain for long. Whatever you wish for, I will get.” 

Lisa smiled, reaching for his hand. “Always so dramatic.” She said, pressing her soft lips to his clawed fingers. “I can heal this by human medicine alone. I’ve treated patients with worse burns before.” 

“Yes,” Vlad agreed, “But this time is different.” 

Lisa raised her left brow. “Oh? And how is that?” 

“Those stupid, little, puerile human lives were of no consequence- not to me, not to the world. But you…” Dracula stopped mid-sentence, once again dropping down to his wife’s height. “The rest of the world could burn, rot away like the selfish, useless beings they are, and none of it would matter, as long as you were safe in my arms.” 

Lisa pulled her husband’s large hand close to her cheek. “Please,” she begged, “Don’t let this undo all your hard work. I know, somewhere, deep down, you know it’s only because they don’t know any better. You can’t punish them for that. At least for now, please iubirea mea.” 

For what must’ve been the tenth time in the last half-hour, you stood there silently, feeling like the awkward third man out. You spent a moment picking at your fingers before taking in a breath and bravely cutting through the silence.

“So what exactly do you need?” Your words seemed to bring both parties' focus back to the present. 

“I’ll need some honey, my jar of willow bark as well as my willow tincture,” Lisa started. “A cut of aloe vera, and fresh goat's milk. Oh, and the good bandages- the fine linen ones from Egypt. And Vlad, take (Y/N) with you.” 

“Oh no,” you raised your hands in protest. “I don't want to get in the way of anybody or anything. I mean, you probably know the castle like the back of your hand- after all, you are Dracula,” you gestured to the giant vampire before you. “And I’d just get lost, so I should probably just stay here with you,” you finished, speaking to Lisa. 

“On the contrary,” Lisa countered, “I think it’s a perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other. After all, if what my husband said about you is true, I can’t think of anyone better qualified to find you a way home.” 

‘She’s kinda got a point,’ you tilted your head to the side and shrugged your shoulders. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll just go with your husband then. Dracula, I mean Vlad, uh, I mean Mr. Doctor Tepes.” 

Lisa pursed her lips to stifle her laugh while her husband rolled his eyes. 

“But if he eats me,” you whispered to Lisa before following Vlad out of the room, “It’s all your fault.” 

“Are you coming, silly little human?” Dracula’s contemning voice called expectantly from the hall. 

Speed-walking, you catch up to him just as he begins to ascend yet another staircase. 

“It’s uh (Y/N),” you said, not expecting much of a reaction. 

Dracula paused, causing you to crash right into his enormous rock-solid vampire back. 

‘Shit!’ You lept backward, holding your now smushed nose. ‘Was the guy made of fucking metal or something?’ 

“On second thought,” your voice sounded super nasally, “‘Silly little human’ is fine by me.” 

Dracula turned to face you, slowly, menacingly. At least that's how it felt to you. You supposed there wasn’t much he could do to not appear menacing, even if he tried. 

“Fine then, (Y/N),” he started. 

You shuddered at the sound of your own name. 

“Be useful and fetch the goat’s milk. Go back down the way we came. On the first floor instead of going right, go left. There’s a kitchen off the main hall. A little past that, there’s a door to the outside where two Bezoar goats are tied.” 

You nodded furiously, determined not to spite the supernatural man any further before speed walking to the staircase. 

A few moments later you were once again back on what Dracula referred to as ‘the first floor’, even if that made zero sense to you because as you recalled, you went up like two-and-a-half stairs just to get there in the first place, but whatever. You shrugged your shoulders.  

Traversing down the rather long hallway on your quest for the kitchen, you found yourself wondering if sticking around in this time period might be so bad after all. I mean to be fair, you weren't in some godforsaken village, surrounded by peasants covered in shit and burlap, no! You were in a literal frickin’ castle with the actual frickin’ Dracula as your host. 

‘Things could be worse,’ you reminded yourself. ‘I mean- hey!’ Coming upon the kitchen, you nearly jumped for joy. “Finally!” 

You slowed your pace, and kept walking, on the lookout for that exit Dracula mentioned. You found the dramatic door discreetly nestled in an equally elegant wall. You were impressed. It was becoming more and more clear to you that vampires certainly had an eye for the dramatic. 

Pushing through the heavy door, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself standing on a tidied veranda where two goats stood happily munching on a bale of hay. 

‘Well, that’s convenient.’ You walked over to where the goats were tied. “Um, hi,” you waved. 

The goats said nothing. Not that you expected them to say anything, but maybe, at least, make some sort of goat noise in response. 

You tapped one on the back. “Excuse me, can I go get some milk, is that okay?” 

The goat continued munching. 

“Alright,” you slowly bent over, picking up one of the empty metal buckets that had been put off to the side. “So, I’m just gonna grab this guy here. And just come on down here.” You slowly kneeled next to one of the goats, peeking under them. You frowned, not exactly confident in your knowledge of goat anatomy. 

Taking a calming breath, you cast your apprehensions aside. Lisa was counting on you. And you really didn't want to give Dracula any more reason to hate you.

‘Okay, just find an udder and squeeze.’ 

Was that right? You had no idea. 

The goats didn’t seem to mind what you were doing however, so you continued on until you had gotten what you hoped was enough for whatever the doctor had in mind. 

“Alright then,” you stood, taking care to pat both of the goats. “Um, good job, er, thank you?” 

Again, the goats gave your presence no response. They merely stood there, continuing to much on their hay. 

Huffing, you and the bucket made your way back inside. ‘Don’t know why I fucking bother.’ 

Back inside the castle, you began the arduous trek back up to the laboratory. 

You were across from the laboratory entrance when you caught something white out of the corner of your eye. You assumed it was yet another grand tapestry you had missed on your initial walk-up, so you turned to get a better look, not expecting much. 

Boy, were you wrong. 

‘Holy fucking shit, that’s a wolf!’ 

A rather large and beastly-looking white wolf stood not ten feet from both you and the laboratory door. Its amber eyes regarded you with a glint of somewhat hostile curiosity. Not that it mattered to you. You were already so the hell outta there. 

Making a mad dash for it, you sprinted into the laboratory and slammed the doors shut behind you. The resounding noise called both Lisa's and Dracula’s attention over to you immediately. 

“Okay, so no one panic, but there is a wild animal in the hallway.” 

A very concerned Lisa and a very unamused Vlad shared a look. 

“You brought the goat with you?” She asked. “I doubt those were my husband’s instructions but that’s certainly not a reason to panic.” 

Overall, Dracula paid your outburst no mind. He merely went back to sorting supplies on the cot next to his wife. 

“Not a goat!” You whispered harshly. 

Lisa rolled her head to the side in sudden realization. Her worried expression melted away into a knowing smile. “Adrian,” she said to Vlad. 

“Mhm,” Dracula nodded, handing his wife a cleaning cloth. “The boy did always know how to make an entrance.” 

Lisa smirked, playfully poking her husband. “He gets that from you.” 

You put your head in your hands, frustratedly pulling the skin down as you ran your hands down your face. “Hold on, hold on… Let me get this straight. You,” you pointed to Lisa, “Are a doctor and you’re married to Dracula, aka you.” You then pointed at him. “And you said you had a son-” 

“Adrian,” Lisa interrupted. 

“Right, right. Adrian, who,” you pointed at the still closed door, “Is a werewolf?!” 

Dracula shook his head, disappointedly. “He’s half vampire, not half werewolf.” He handed his wife a small glass vial, invariably turning his attention back to her. “I thought you said she was rather clever for a human.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Look, all I know is that behind this door is a giant scary…” You swung open the lab door to demonstrate your point, only to come face to face with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Squeaking in shock, you slammed the door shut once again. 

“Could you please,” Dracula hissed out, “Stop slamming the door?” 

Inwardly you cringed. “Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly. 

“Excuse me,” a suave voice spoke from behind the door. “But do you not wish for me to enter?” 

“Adrian, darling! Of course, you can enter,” Lisa called to her son from where she lay resting on the cot. “(Y/N)’s just a little frightened that’s all.” 

You backed up, opening the door and allowing the actual freaking Adonis-looking figure before you to enter. 

God was he gorgeous. Like an elf, but in real life. He was tall and slender, but you could see the strength of his muscles from the strip of bare cleavage, left exposed by his loose white shirt and open black coat. His hair was the color of sunshine, so similar to his Mother’s. And his slender eyes reminded you of Dracula’s small but strong piercing ones. 

Walking past you, the stranger, well this Adrian, paid you little mind. Much like the goats and his Father, he didn’t even acknowledge you or say hello. 

‘Seriously?,’ you thought, ‘Is there something wrong with the men in this family?’ 

“Mother…” This Adrian fellow fell to his knees at the foot of Lisa’s cot. You watched his upper body begin to shake with sobs. 

Once again, you stood there awkwardly, silently watching the emotional scene unfold before you. 

As his son and wife continued their embrace, Dracula walked over to collect the bucket from you. 

“I uh, hope that’s enough.” You said. 

The great vampire nodded. “It will suffice for now.” He then headed over to a nearby table, where a stack of fresh linen bandages waited. A long-clawed finger beckoned you over. “Here,” he handed you several bandages, “Soak these in there.” 

“Uh, sure.” You started methodically adding dry bandages to the bucket, soaking them, and wringing them out so that they were saturated but wouldn’t drip. Every couple of bandages or so, you stopped to check up on the other two in the room. 

By the time you had finished dipping the bandages, the crying seemed to be over. 

‘Thank god.’ 

Once you finished, Dracula brought most of the linens back over to his wife. 

“Adrian,” Lisa wiped away the remainder of her tears with a sleeve of her Speakers robe. “Could you help (Y/N), while your Father continues helping me? She’s been burned too.” 

“Oh no,” you shook your head in protest. “I’m fine really.” But with the thought now in your head, it was impossible to ignore the growing pain in your feet. “Ow, shit.” Defeated, you grimaced, the reality of your wounds finally starting to sink in. 

Moving slowly, you removed your robe before taking a seat on the edge of one of the tables. Without the heavy fabric on the way you were able to cross your leg and bring your foot up, you frowned at the sight and smell of melted pleather. ‘Ugh. Well, that’s attractive.’

“Allow me,” slender hands appeared before you and began unlacing your boots. 

You looked up to find the impossibly gorgeous Adrian Tepes standings before you, now sans coat, seemingly ready to get down to the business of helping you. 

“Actually, there’s a zipper.” You said, turning your foot the other way to unzip your boot. “The laces are just for show.” 

Adrian nodded. “Fascinating.” 

“Yeah, I’m guessing those don’t show up until later.” 

Curious, Adrian looked over at his father. 

Dracula just shook his head. “(Y/N) claims to be from the future.” 

Adrian turned back to you, regarding you more skeptically. 

“The future or an alternate universe,” you supplied. “Not really sure which one yet.” 

“Future or not, you should allow me to remove those boots. There’s a good chance they’ve melded to your skin.” 

“What? No way,” you shook your head and proceeded to rip your boot off. Immediately, you felt a searing pain rip across the bottom of your foot. 

“Motherfucker!” You yelled, the pain so sudden and unexpected, you no longer cared about impressing your current company. 

Adrian, grabbed a sharp blade from the collection of items on the table next to you, seemingly indifferent to your new choice of language. “Told you.” 

“Wait, wait, wait! That doesn’t mean you have to cut my foot off.” You began scooching away from him. 

“This is to cut your other shoe off.” 

“Oh.” You stopped trying to escape. “Well, that makes more sense.” 

“Hmm,” Adrian hummed, getting started on carefully cutting away your other boot. “Your burns are less severe than my Mother’s, but they will still need cleaning and treatment.” 

You sucked in a deep breath as a particularly painful piece of the boot came off your skin. “Okay,” you managed to gasp out. “That’s fine.” 

“I want to thank you,” he continued. “For saving my Mother’s life.” 

“Oh, it was nothing,” you shrugged off his gratitude. “Really, I just did what any good person would’ve done.” 

“You did more,” Adrian took one of your hands in his. “Much more. Possibly more than you’ll ever know,” he glanced over at his Father. “The world owes you a great debt.” 

You half-laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” 

“Perhaps. But at the very least, I, we, owe you a debt.” 

“A debt sounds like too much…” You argued. 

“Well,” Adrian thought for a moment, “How about a favor?” 

You nodded, slowly, coming around to the idea. “I could accept a favor.” 

“It’s a deal then,” Adrian held his hand outstretched for you to shake. 

You shook his hand before clicking your tongue and raising one of your burnt feet. “Do you think I could use that favor to try and keep my feet from turning necrotic and falling off?” 

The glamorous man that was Adrian grinned. “I should think so.” 

You smiled right back at him. “Then I would like that, I think.” 

He nodded, reaching for a dry bandage. “I think I’d, I mean we, would like that too.” 

┈

A/N: Do you notice how each installation in this series gets about 1k longer??? There should be a word for that. Also, kind of thinking up part 4, like maybe Adrian’s still worried about his dad’s plans because Dracula invites his generals to the castle so Adrian and (Y/N) set out to find a hunter & a scholar just in case they need to save Wallachia??? Not sure. Let me know. 

Translations: iubirea mea = my love 

Recipe for Lisa’s Burn Treatment: Honey (found in eastern Europe), tannins from Weeping Willow bark & tea (also found in eastern Europe), Aloe Vera (from Oman in northeastern Africa, which is southwest of Romania, and a port of trade as it’s by the Persian Gulf), and milk-soaked bandages made of fine linen (from Egypt). Remember- the castle’s a giant traveling machine. Sources for this Mostly Historically Accurate Burn Treatments (which is probably still horribly inaccurate but oh well): [x], [x], [x]

[beatskylar]

A broken memory, is a knife to the heart. Part 3

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Who are you?” “And what are you doing here?”

Taking a deep breath in, Carmen slowly exhales as her eyes flutter open revealing that she is in a different room. The stiff bed she’s gotten used to is now gone, and as she begins to feel the tension in her back muscles, the awful bed is deeply missed. Both of her forearms, palms, and left cheek are pressed against cold metal, and as she slowly rises from her bent position, she begins to feel her muscles relax. “Never thought I would miss my bed back at the academy,” Carmen whispers as she rotates her shoulders and neck, but the crick in her neck refuses to leave, the pain and soreness a familiar sensation to her.

“Shadowsan! Shadowsan!” The young girl yells as she skips behind the master of stealth, who continues his walk to his classroom. Without verbally acknowledging her presents, the girl knows that he’s waiting and listing. His strides have become slower, a change was barely noticeable to passing by students but a clear sign for her. “Can you teach me that neck knockout thing?” Once she is close enough, she jumps to reach his neck, unable to lay a finger on her target.

“The pressure point pinch.” After another failed attempt, she stops her efforts knowing he’ll get mad if she decides to continue. Finally, after years of getting in trouble, Carmen knows how far she can push things before the faculty get angry with her. Coach Brunt, being the mama bear she is, doesn’t mind anything she does, even going out of her way to excuse the girl’s behavior as ‘Learning new skills.’ Professor Maelstrom and Dr. Bellum allowed six attempts, on their good days, before they become irritated and threaten to call the Cleaners on her. Countess Cleo gives her three tries, and on the fourth try, she forces the girl to take a ten-hour lecture on how to be a ‘Proper Lady’. Lastly, Shadowsan might allow two attempts before he starts grunting in disapproval.

“Yeah, that!” When he doesn’t utter another word, she continues before he returns to his normal pace. “Blackout betted I couldn’t knock him out and I am going to enjoy proving him wrong. At first, I thought of asking Boris and Vlad for help, but they only appear when I do something ‘wrong’ and/or ‘foolish’. Then I thought of using oil, but Professor Maelstrom banned me from the kitchen after, and I quote ‘covered the stairs leading to VILE in oil, causing Cookie Brooker and several other operatives to fall and hit their heads’… Which I am innocent of doing, I swear it was Neal the Eel, despite footage showing otherwise.”

“If I teach you, will you leave me alone?” In an instant, he completely stops in his tracks, which leads the girl to bump into his legs. A grunt escapes him, but she will not let him change his mind. Immediately she agrees to his demand, running around his legs so she is standing in front of him. “Alright. I will teach you when you wake up.”

“Wake up?” Before she could realize what he meant; the man leans down so they are at eye level as his right hand rested on her shoulder. In a swift motion, he quickly applies slight pressure to the muscles on her neck.

Lifting her right arm to massage her neck, Carmen feels it. The slight sting on her wrist as the metal cuff moves against her irritated skin. “Of course, they wouldn’t make it too easy for me, that wouldn’t be fun.” It doesn’t take her long to see the cuffs around her wrist aren’t standard police handcuffs. The metal link is longer than it should be, allowing enough room for her to stretch one arm at a time but making it difficult to fight at her fullest capability. There is no way she can pick the lock, considering she’s without any of her gadgets and there is no keyhole to even pick. In an instant, she understands that the cuffs are using a magnetic lock, and the only way she’s getting out is if she steals one of the blue coat’s keycards. No random idiot’s clearance level will work either, she’s going to need one of the bimbos that arrested her or the boss’s card.

The table Carmen is sitting at shows signs of being altered to keep her restrained. The metal bar, ensuring she remains stuck with the table, is a dark copper that stands out from the silver table. The bolts on either end of the pipe are hastily screwed into the table and pipe, the quick work leaving some space between the bar and screw head. Not a lot, but just enough for her to unscrew the screws. Running her left index finger over the end, the sharp metal begins tugging at her skin, with enough pressure and speed the pipe could cut skin.

Looking around the room, Carmen sees that she’s in a typical interrogation room. Two metal chairs on the other side of the table. One exit to her left that must be unlocked from the other side as there’s only a handle to pull the door open. Flickering lights hang above her, a slight hum the only sound she hears, as her eyes land on the two-way mirror, five feet away from her. Focusing on her reflection, Carmen leans forward being sure she moves both of her hands in front of the screws, effectively hiding them from view. As she tilts her head to the right, she discreetly tests how well the bolts are tightened. The hard part is to hide her thumb’s movements to avoid anyone on the other side of the mirror seeing what she is up to. When she feels both screws budge a little, only being able to do half a turn, Carmen knows that if she wants to escape, she first needs to remove the nuts from under the table.

There must be at least ten agents that can easily be taken care of, but Shadows will be a threat she needs to prepare for. The only thing that might stop the ex-faculty member from playing hero, is a hostage. The male agent, with the glasses, is going to put up a fight and he has already proven to have no regard for his safety or the safety of others. The female agent on the other hand barely put up a fight against Carmen, even going out of her way to tell the other agent not to hurt her.

Leaning backward till her back is pressed against the metal chair, Carmen sighs in relief. It’s going to take some doing but she’s going to be able to escape. All she needs to do is play her cards right and she’ll be walking back to VILE with the greatest price in the world, a bluecoat.

As she stares at her reflection, an image of herself without her signature red coat and fedora brings a shiver to her spine. A reminder of a time before she graduated from VILE, a reminder of a bright-eyed child that admired Shadowsan, and was attentive to every single word that came from his mouth. Carmen loathes that she tried so hard to make him proud, all those years before she even enrolled in VILE, spent trying and failing to prove herself. Everyone in the faculty had approved of her skills before she was able to walk, the only one who constantly refused to acknowledge her abilities was and still is Shadowsan. All of her accomplishments were undermined by him, whenever she bested an operative, he would state it was because she received help from Coach Brunt or she cheated.

“Black Sheep, you had better be certain that becoming a professional thief is what you truly desire, for if you choose this road there will be no turning back.”

“I want this more than anything Instructor Shadowsan, and I am willing to go to the end of the line.” As she bows to him, her posture remains firm and calm but her heart beats fast enough to fly out of her chest. She doesn’t want to show how badly she wants his approval, how even if the rest of the faculty tells her no, she’ll be ecstatic if he just for once approved. As she slowly rises in time to see the vote, her heart stops at the sight. Once again, the faculty approved of her, except Shadowsan. Her heart stops beating and falls to her feet as the ninja leaves, she wants to throw up at the feeling of being rejected again, for the millionth time.

The hiss of the metal door opening draws Carmen's eyes to the only exit as a pair walk in, one of them being the agent she tried to kill in the Ferris wheel. Neither are wearing suits, instead choosing to remain in their civilian disguises. The girl holds a single red laptop in her hands, setting it carefully on the table before taking a seat. The other agent takes a long time to sit down.

"I see you survived your little fall; I was starting to get a little worried I missed your funeral. Guess I won't need to pay my respects... yet." In an instance, both agents react to her comment, the female clenching her fist to calm down while the male agent looks away from Carmen, his eyes showing the fear of being reminded about his fall. Seeing she hit a nerve, Carmen innocently smiles at the two. As the three of them fall into silence, the girl uses the time to start up her computer while the boy stares at the oh-so-fascinating floor. Taking a small glance down, Carmen sees why the stained floors have the young agent’s attention. "Tell me, agent was your free fall the other day your first? Wasn't it exciting feeling the wind hitting you as you fell?" Carmen makes it a point to whistle a tune that starts off at a high pitch and quickly lowers, mimicking the sound effects as a cartoon character would fall.

The boy doesn’t have a great poker face, as he grimaces at her words, and she leans towards him. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that the female has turned the laptop to point at Carmen, but her blue eyes focus on the male. “Just breathe bro-“

“Yes, just keep breathing, and breathing because-” Slowly moving her right hand under the table, Carmen begins the process of unscrewing the nut as she states. “I wonder how many breaths you’ll take before I take your last.” Her shell of a threat works, her eyes noticing him gulp as he leans away, almost causing him to fall onto the floor. Despite knowing she won’t be able to follow through with the threat if she wants to escape, it helps elevate Carmen’s situation. If they are going to keep her imprisoned, the least they could do is allow her to mentally break the agents.

“We might be friends, but I will not let you talk to him like that!” The female yells, slamming her left hand down next to Carmen’s. For a moment she stops unscrewing the nut as her brown eyes meet the agent’s eyes.

“We are not friends.”

“Yes, we are!” Sighing, the girl sits back and takes a deep breath before continuing. “We are more than friends, we are family-“

“Don’t make me laugh.” Out of the corner of her eye, Carmen sees the laptop turn on and she is immediately greeted by a young boy. He looks unsure as he stares at her, bags under his eyes yet he keeps them wide open. For several minutes no one says anything, no one even moves a muscle as everyone waits. Everyone is staring at her, and she hates it with a passion.

A thief isn’t supposed to be seen; she’s supposed to be like a ghost. Appear and then disappear.

“They’ve been calling you the crimson ghost, red.”

“Really? What an honor.”

Closing her eyes, Carmen forces the voices in her head out. She needs to stay focused, and she needs to get to work. Breathing in and then out, Carmen opens her eyes and begins unscrewing the nut again. Her left hand hid the bolt from the agent’s view.

“Red, do you remember me?” Carmen doesn’t reply, just letting her eyes linger on him. She has never seen him before, and she starts to wonder how long this agency has been after her. If they know anything about VILE. “My name is Player, and I’ve been- we’ve known- I’m your friend, best friend.” Her features remain still, not showing an ounce of emotion as she forces herself not to roll her eyes. No one at VILE had friends, especially the faculty. There were only the fellow thieves you could work with and the thieves you wish you could push off a cliff. And even though she got along with Crackle, Carmen still didn’t consider him a friend, because she knew if they were to ever be trapped, with law enforcement creeping in. She would throw him under the bus.

She can never be caught…. Unless it was worth it.

“I was there for your first caper when we meet Ivy and Zack,” Player stops for a minute, gesturing to the agents in the room, as they smile. It’s faint, and with one look from Carmen, Zack loses his smile as he shrinks into himself. “The four of us have been inseparable since then, and we’ve only gotten closer when Shadowsan joined us.”

A soft chuckle leaves Carmen’s mouth just as she was able to remove the nut and can feel the bolt come loose enough that she can yank it out of the table. Shifting her body to look at the young boy through the screen, she positions her left hand over the remaining bolt. Her right-hand repeats the process of removing the nut that is keeping her trapped. “You don’t say? Tell me ‘best friend’ what other grand adventures we’ve been on.” The young boy begins detailing events but with every twist of the nut, Carmen tunes him out until the nut drops in her waiting palm. Taking a deep breath, she leans her head back which makes the boy quit talking.

“Carmen?” The girl asks, but when they lock eyes, Carmen springs into action. Pulling the metal bar out, she leans back far enough to use her legs to push the metal table toward the two agents. The red-headed boy is just barely able to jump away from the table as the other agent’s back is smacked against the see-through glass and pinned there by the table. As she slowly makes her way to the terrified agent, she throws one of the nuts at the laptop screen, causing it to crack as the boy yells her name. The second nut she has makes immediate contact with the female’s forehead.

Before Carmen can get the chance to torture the agent in front of her, the door leading to her exit bursts open as more agents barge in. Looking over her shoulder she smiles as she sees Jules and the loudmouth agent are among the agents now aiming their weapons at her. “Carmen Sandiego, surrender or I will be forced to take you out,” A tall woman states in a commanding voice, and simply by her attire Carmen knows that she’s in charge. Slowly turning on her heels, Carmen raised her hands up, the metal bar being loosely held in her hand. “Drop the weapon.”

The second Carmen sees Shadowsan, she can tell that he’s able to anticipate her next move as he goes for his sword and yells. “Julia move!” Unlike in the past, this time she’s faster than her old mentor and gets to the agent in the blink of an eye. In a swift movement, Carmen is able to twist Julia’s arm behind her and press the metal bar to her neck.

As her now-captured agent yells in pain, everyone in the room takes a small step back. “Do as I say or say goodbye to Jules.” To ensure her threat is heard, Carmen pulls the bar down causing the agent’s skin to tear a little. A small cut, but enough to allow a few drops of blood out.

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

[thenightling]

How I got into The Sandman

The first time I read The Sandman was in 2017. First let me backtrack a bit. Back in 1999 I ran a Labyrinth role playing game on AOL and I played Jareth. I had to flesh out his personality since the movie didn't elaborate on much. I had to speculate and use sources like the novelization. As my friends and I played, a few tried to talk me into reading The Sandman. One described him as "Goth Jareth." This didn't work quite as well she hoped. She showed me some illustrations of him but that was all. I was / am a Goth and usually dressed in black. And for a while I wore an ankh pendant. I had seen one in an episode of "Are you Afraid of the Dark?" where the episode said it meant eternal life. I actually had several ankhs but one by one lost them because I'd give them to my brother as talismans to protect him against night terrors. My brother was prone to violent nightmares. Sleep disorders ran in my family. My mother slept walked, my brother had Night Terrors, and I still get bouts of insomnia and find I sleep better with an inverted sleep schedule. Anyway, I had shoulder length dark hair, dressed in black t-shirts and leggings, and wore an ankh. This must have driven my Sandman loving friends crazy because I still hadn't read it. I was told I looked like Death and "Death is so cute." But that was not how you should get me to read something. I don't care if a character is cute. Tell me about their personalities. Tell me about the horror hosts turned nightmare entities residing in The Dreaming. Tell me about Morpheus's love of Halloween aesthetics. Tell me about Morpheus being a screw up trying to set right his own wrongs. That would have appealed to me. Anyway, by 2017 I still had not read it. There were just a few things I knew about it. I knew that Lucifer of the Fox (not yet Netflix) TV show originated in The Sandman and that's where he quits ruling Hell. I knew that Death was Morpheus's sister. And she was a cute Goth girl. And I knew that Morpheus was like a "Goth Jareth." That's all I knew.

Now in 2017 my friends started a DC comics themed role playing game as some of them were very into the Arrowverse. And I really liked the Fox TV show was Lucifer. So I was to play the DC version of Lucifer but all I knew about him came from the Fox TV show. I like to research my role when I play a canon character for a role playing game. I knew he first appeared in The Sandman and I knew he was designed to look like rock star, David Bowie. So I decided to start there in The Sandman. I found out his first appearance was issue 4 so I figured, Okay, I may as well start from the beginning and work my way to him. I read it in digital format first because I didn't want physical copies of The Sandman unless I found i loved it. I fully anticipated skimming and skipping combat scenes and explosions since "all comics have those." Boy, was I wrong! I'd read many comics over the years but explosions and fight scenes were always the norm with Marvel and DC. And I always found those parts boring. So I'd skim them. By the time I got to "The Oldest Game" in issue 4 I finally realized "This was no ordinary comic book." The explosions and drawn out fight scenes I'd come to expect were no where to be found. When Morpheus said "I am Hope." I knew I had something special.

I was thirty-five-years-old when I finally read The Sandman and I had been seventeen the first time it had been recommended to me. I went back and re-read those first four issues carefully, and with a more open mind to what I was getting into. By strange coincidence, the following day when I was reading Dream of a Thousand Cats, that was when I went to the animal shelter and adopted Loki and Vlad. I was hooked. I was now much more interested in Morpheus than in Lucifer. And I'm glad I discovered The Sandman when I did. Imagine waiting decades for the first TV adaptation. I only had to wait two years. (It was 2019 when the Netflix show was announced even though it didn't get released until 2021.)

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Tens of millions in the US remain under dangerous heat warnings (AP) Extreme heat alerts continued for tens of millions of people in the United States on Tuesday as cities including Chicago broke records at the start of a week of sweltering weather. States in the Midwest started to bake Monday in what the National Weather Service called a dangerous and long duration heat wave that was expected to stretch from Iowa to Maine into at least Friday. On Monday, Chicago broke a 1957 temperature record with a high of 97 degrees Fahrenheit (36.1 degrees Celsius). The U.S. last year saw the most heat waves, consisting of abnormally hot weather lasting more than two days, since 1936. Officials warned residents to take precautions.

Biden offers path to citizenship to spouses of US citizens in election-year gambit (Reuters) President Joe Biden on Tuesday will announce a program offering a path to citizenship to hundreds of thousands of immigrants in the U.S. illegally who are married to U.S. citizens, a large-scale legalization effort that contrasts sharply with Republican rival Donald Trump’s plan for mass deportations. The program, which will roll out in coming months, will be open to an estimated 500,000 spouses who have lived in the U.S. for at least 10 years as of June 17, senior Biden administration officials said in a call with reporters on Monday. Some 50,000 children under age 21 with a U.S.-citizen parent also will be eligible, they said. The majority of people who would likely benefit are Mexicans, they added.

Conscription divides Ukrainians (BBC) In May, it became compulsory for every Ukrainian man aged between 25 and 60 to log their details on an electronic database so they can be called up. For those who do not want to serve, being out in the streets feels like playing a game of cat and mouse with conscription officers. At one enlistment centre in Odesa, an optimistic note taped to the door notified would-be-recruits that those who had come voluntarily could skip the queues. But there were no queues. A lone man sat waiting to be seen. When I asked whether he was there out of choice, he told me he had been “kidnapped” that morning and brought against his will. “The officers encircled me so I couldn’t run,” he stuttered in shock. “I’m devastated.” One of the officers at the centre, Vlad, conceded that there were barely any willing volunteers these days. Under the call sign Hora, Vlad fought in some of the fiercest battles along the eastern front line in the Donbas before being struck in the head, chest, and legs by artillery shrapnel. He was unable to mask his contempt for those who are hiding. “How can I say this without swearing?” he asked out loud. “I don’t consider them men. What are they waiting for?”

Thailand has tried for years to solve its pollution problem. But ‘haze season’ always comes back (AP) When the haze season comes, village chief Nanthawat Tiengtrongsakun and his tribesmen start preparing the land for fire. They cut shrubs and trees on their small parcels of land, then set controlled burns that will clear their fields for planting—and send up plumes of smoke that add to some of the worst air in the world. It’s a slightly sweet gray haze that blurs the mountains in this part of northern Thailand to a faint outline, makes the air itself feel solid and turns breathing and swallowing painful for some. The Pakanyo, who have carried out the practice as long as they have lived in these hills about 90 minutes from Chiang Mai, a top tourist destination, say they get blamed by city dwellers for fouling the air and damaging forest land. “We are the ethnic group that preserves the forest, but other people have the concern that we are destroying the forest,” Tiengtrongsakun said.

Extreme heat takes withering toll in teeming Philippine jails (Washington Post) Amid a historic heat wave in the Philippines, few places have been harder to bear than the country’s overcrowded jails and prisons. As temperatures rose past 122 degrees in parts of the country last month, jails reported thousands of cases of boils, rashes and skin disease among inmates. Authorities raced to reduce the crowding. Philippine detention facilities are the fourth most congested in the world, according to data from the London-based Institute for Crime & Justice Policy Research. Two-thirds of the jails are overburdened. Some have more than 20 times the inmate population they are capable of handling, according to national data. In Muntinlupa City, south of Manila, almost 900 inmates crowd into a facility with seven cells, built for only 41 people. To escape the heat of the overcrowded cells, 100 people—usually the elderly and sickly—are allowed to sleep on a roof deck, which also functions as an assembly area, basketball court, library and place of worship. “It’s not supposed to be like that, but we have to do it for humanitarian considerations,” said warden Ricky Pegalan.

South Korean soldiers fire warning shots after North Korean troops intrude for a 2nd time this month (AP) South Korean soldiers fired warning shots to repel North Korean soldiers who temporarily crossed the rivals’ land border Tuesday for the second time this month, South Korea’s military said. The South’s military observed increased North Korean construction activities along their heavily armed border to install suspected anti-tank barriers, reinforce roads and plant land mines. The work has gone on uninterrupted despite several explosions caused by mines that killed or injured an unspecified number of North Korean soldiers, said the South’s Joint Chiefs of Staff. According to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, around 20 to 30 North Korean soldiers, while engaging in unspecified construction work on the northern side of the border, briefly crossed the military demarcation line that bisects the countries as of 8:30 a.m. It said the North Korean soldiers retreated after the South broadcast warnings and fired warning shots and the South’s military didn’t spot any suspicious activity after that.

Southern China faces heavy floods, and landslides kill at least 9 (AP) Southern China was reeling Tuesday from heavy rains that triggered landslides killing at least nine people, knocking out power for entire villages and burying crops. Meanwhile, northern parts of the country are battling drought, as the country faces two extremes of severe weather. Four people were killed and two others were missing in Wuping county in the coastal province of Fujian due to landslides caused by torrential rain. Severe downpours started on Sunday afternoon, with authorities measuring 372.4 millimeters (14.7 inches) of rainfall over a 24-hour period.

China targets Europe’s farmers, and not its automakers, in response to EU tariffs on electric cars (AP) The Chinese government is taking aim at European farmers instead of German automakers by launching an investigation into European Union pork imports, just days after the EU said it plans to impose provisional tariffs on China-made electric vehicles. The Commerce Ministry didn’t mention the EV tariffs when it announced Monday that it is opening an anti-dumping investigation into pork from Europe, but the move is widely seen as a response to the EU move on electric cars. It also gives China a bargaining chip in any trade negotiations. China could have slapped a 25% duty on imports of gasoline-powered vehicles with large engines in the name of combating climate change, a step that would would have hit Mercedes and BMW hard. In choosing not to do so, at least for now, the government may be acknowledging the public opposition of the German auto industry to the EU tariffs, as well as its sizeable production in China.

Israeli forces deepen Rafah invasion, kill 17 in central camps (Reuters) Israeli airstrikes on Tuesday killed at least 17 Palestinians in two of the Gaza Strip’s historic refugee camps and Israeli tanks pushed deeper into the enclave’s southern city of Rafah, residents and medics said. Residents reported heavy bombardments from tanks and planes in several areas of Rafah, where more than a million people had taken refuge before May. Most of the population has fled northwards since then as Israeli forces invaded the city. “Rafah is being bombed without any intervention from the world, the occupation (Israel) is acting freely here,” a Rafah resident and father of six told Reuters via a chat app.

Dire Conditions in Gaza Leave a Multitude of Amputees (NYT) Bleeding and crying, Dr. Hani Bseso’s teenage niece Ahed called out for him as she slipped in and out of consciousness. A shell had ripped into their home, which had been surrounded by Israeli troops as fighting raged outside that December day. It was too dangerous to make the five-minute drive to Al-Shifa Hospital, where Dr. Bseso, 52, worked in orthopedics. So he grabbed a kitchen knife, scissors and sewing string—then amputated Ahed’s leg on the kitchen table, where her mother had just made bread. “She was badly hit,” he recalled. With “no tools, no anesthetic, nothing,” he explained, “I had to find a way to save her life.” The crude surgery was captured in a video shared widely online, a grim emblem of the agonizing choices that have been repeated countless times in a war that has ravaged Gazans’ lives and limbs. Doctors say they have been stunned by the sheer number of amputations in Gaza, which put patients at risk of infection in a place where access to medical care and even clean water is limited.

Muslim pilgrims wrap up Hajj with final symbolic stoning of the devil and final circling of Kaaba (AP) Muslim pilgrims are wrapping up the Hajj, or pilgrimage, in the deadly summer heat on Tuesday with the third day of the symbolic stoning of the devil, and the last circumambulation around the Kaaba, Islam’s holiest site, in the city of Mecca. The three-day stoning ritual in Mina, a desert site outside Mecca, is among the final rites of the Hajj, and symbolizes the casting away of evil and sin. It started a day after pilgrims congregated Saturday at a sacred hill, known as Mount Arafat. The final days of the annual Hajj coincide with Muslims around the world celebrating the Eid al-Adha holiday when Muslims with financial means commemorate Prophet Ibrahim’s test of faith, when God ordered him to sacrifice his only son, by slaughtering livestock and animals and distributing the meat to the poor.

The World’s Most Expensive Cities for Expats in 2024 (Bloomberg) Regional finance hubs Hong Kong and Singapore have topped a new global list of the world’s most expensive cities for expatriates, keeping Swiss destinations from the top spots for the second year in a row. High rental costs saw the rival cities beat Zurich, Geneva, Basel and Bern to the top of the table, according to Mercer’s 2024 Cost of Living report.

Spending on nuclear weapons hit $91.4 billion in 2023, watchdog finds (Voice of America) The world’s nine nuclear-armed states together spent $91.4 billion last year, or nearly $3,000 per second, as they “continue to modernize, and in some cases expand their arsenals,” according to a report issued Monday by ICAN, the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons. “This money is effectively being wasted given that the nuclear-armed states agree that a nuclear war can never be won and should never be fought,” Alicia Sanders-Zakre, co-author of the report, told journalists in Geneva last week in advance of the report’s publication. For example, she said, $91.4 billion a year “could pay for wind power for more than 12 million homes to combat climate change or cover 27 percent of the global funding gap to fight climate change, protect biodiversity and cut pollution.” The report shows the nuclear-armed states spent $10.7 billion more on nuclear weapons in 2023 compared with 2022, with the United States accounting for 80% of that increase.

[aedelia]

Some warm up dp doodles while I plot out my prompt fill for today.

Bonus:

[im-ovulating]

Hiii

I saw you write for any twilight character

Can I request a Vladimir smut one shot

Where the reader it's his Human mate and it's virgin?Thanks<3

Your blog is so coo btw!

(A/n: Sorry for the wait lovely)

Taglist: @lendeluxe @geli2297 @canthebest1

Hope you enjoy~❤️

Navigation

Warmings: loss of virginity, soft Vlad, unprotected sex, not proofread

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Vladimir x Virgin! Fem! Reader

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

"I can hear how fast your heart is beating. Are you sure you want to do this now, love?" His voice is low with a thick accent as he hovers above your nervous form.

"I'm sure.." your voice is barely a whisper as you meet vermillion eyes. If he didn't have vampiric hearing your words would have been lost to the dim room.

"Alright, tell me if it becomes too much.."

He trails a series of cold wet kisses down the column of your neck as he moves to your collarbone, suckling a mark into the unblemished skin.

You take in a shaky breath as you gather your courage to tug at the hem of his shirt, wanting to see your mate in all his glory.

Luckily, he skips the teasing in favor of discarding the dark material, tossing it to a forgotten corner as your hands come up to trace along his marble-like skin. He shudders at the feel of your warm fingers against his ice cold flesh, sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck to pull him into a needy kiss.

His hands come up to undo the top few buttons on your shirt.

"Is this okay?" He mutters against your plump lips.

With a nod of your head, the rest of the buttons are effortlessly undone and he's slipping the garment down your arms.

Vladimir ducks back down to press more kisses into the newly exposed skin, praise falling from his lips as he does. He makes quick work of your bra as he kisses down the valley of your breasts. Your hands tangle into his soft, white locks as his lips wrap around one of your nipples, a hand coming up to tweak and roll the other between his fingers.

Your breath is coming out in puffs as anticipation grows bigger and bigger.

He switches to give your other nipple the same attention, free hand trailing down your side and along your abdomen until it rests of the hem of your pants.

Before he can confirm that you're still comfortable, you're lifting up your hips and practically begging him to tear the damned clothing off.

Never one to make you wait, he peals your bottoms and underwear off in one go.

A groan escapes him as he sees the string of slick that connects to your panties before snapping in the next second.

"You are absolutely exquisite, my dear. Have I ever told you that?" He mummers as he leans down to kiss you once more before undoing his own pants. You can't help the flush that fills you at the sight of him.

"Only every day," you can't help the nervous chuckle that leaves you.

"Remind me to tell you more often, then."

He smiles down at you, "You ready, darling?"

You let out a deep breath before nodding. "Yeah.. yeah, I'm ready."

Vladimir lines himself up and slowly pushes in, watching you closely for any signs of pain.

Your hands grasp his forearms as you try to relax against the intrusion, brows furrowed as he bottoms out. Waiting for you to adjust and give him the go-ahead, Vlad rubs comforting circles into your hips.

After a bit you wiggle your hips a bit to test the waters and find only a bit of discomfort.

"You can move," you breathe out, reaching for his hand.

He laces your fingers of both hands with his before moving them above your head and beginning to thrust.

He pulls out to the tip before slowly pushing back in. You head falls back at the feel of him rubbing you in all the right places, any lingering discomfort ebbing away with his careful movements.

He continues the same pace as he gauges your reactions. Angle his hip this way, your jaw drops open in ecstasy; lift your leg like that and you clamp down on him.

"How are you feeling, beautiful?"

"I'm -ah- I'm good. Really, really good." You gasp as he hits a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. "Mmh, please do that again~"

You're lifting your hips to meet his thrusts, trying to get a deeper angle.

"You're doing so well for me, my angel, so good," he whispers against the hollow of your throat.

Your answering moan is all he needs to speed up a bit, throwing your leg over his shoulder and pressing down against you.

The new angle has you breathless as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. His hands in yours the only thing keeping you grounded.

Feeling your gummy walls tighten around him, Vladimir knows you're getting close. He lets go of one of your hands to slip it between your bodies, rubbing slow circles on your puffy clit. Your nails are digging in to his hand and pillowcase at the new sensation.

Impossibly closer to release, your other leg comes to wrap around his waist, pulling him in with every push of his hips.

Your orgasm hits you with an intensity you didn't expect as a purely pornographic sound leaves your kiss swollen mouth. Your mate's not far behind as he pulls out, finishing on your pelvis.

Vladimir places a slow lingering kiss to your lips before speeding to get a damp washcloth to clean you up.

You groan from the sensitivity as he wipes the remnants of your release from your folds.

"I know.. I'm sorry dear, just a bit more, yeah?"

He quickly finishes cleaning your sensitive lips before moving up to wipe at the slowly drying cum on your stomach.

After discarding the soiled towel, he helps you dress in new underwear and one of his shirts.

You're curled into his chest, the feel of him running his hands up and down your side slowly lulling you to sleep. As it overtakes you, you hear Vladimir whisper one last 'I love you' into the crown of your head.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Ch. 2)

Author: kpopfanfictrash 

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Word Count: 6,436

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.    

After the initial shock of your partner wore off, you decided spending the semester partnered with Park Jimin was, indeed, the dark sentence it appeared to be at first glance.

Jimin wasn’t happy with the situation either; that much became clear when Mr. Vlad said your name and Jimin instantly stiffened. You’d turned slowly to face him, your mind going fuzzy as you met his blank gaze.

The first two weeks of the semester had been spent wondering if this was some kind of cruel, cosmic joke. Maybe you’d been a terrible person in a past life and this was your bitter reward. If so, Jimin must have pissed someone off too, since he seemed equally perturbed by your new relationship.

Waiting in line at the water fountain, you checked the time once again and exhaled. Ballet began in five minutes and Miss Britt employed the same lateness tolerance policy as Mr. Vlad. Really, it was a blanket expectation by all the teachers at Russet. If you arrived after the door shut, you weren’t allowed in – and god forbid you missed a step the next week during barre. Motivated to avoid this, you’d arrived fifteen minutes early every day since classes started – it was hardest for 8:00 AM ballet, but that couldn’t be helped.

Once your water bottle was full, you screwed on the cap and hustled into the room with three minutes to spare. Miss Britt stood at the front beside the live pianist. She insisted on using one for all her classes, saying it was good practice for when you’d dance with an orchestra.

Arms crossed, she surveyed each student when they entered, and you hastened to stand beside Noelle at the bar. Placing your water bottle on the floor, you began to roll your neck and warm up your feet.

From across the room, you heard Jimin laugh and looked up on reflex – only to find him standing next to Sabrina.

Uncertain, you froze. You hadn’t made it a habit to follow Jimin’s movements, or even to learn more about him since your arrival at Russet. You saw him in class and occasionally on the weekends but had made it a point to keep your friend groups separate. As a result, you really had no idea what Jimin had been up to in his private time.

It seemed the answer to your question was: cozying up to the enemy. Since that first night in Grace Hall, Sabrina had proven herself to be as unpleasant as you’d feared. You’d mostly tried to steer clear of her path, but again, this was hard to achieve in a class of eighty students.

While you watched, Jimin laughed again and Sabrina smiled. She looked almost pleasant and in response to this, your eyes narrowed.

Objectively, you didn’t want Jimin as your dance partner, but he’d been assigned to you. It’d be incredibly embarrassing if he asked to switch midway through the semester. Everyone would know it was because of you and you’d have no other options when the New Year rolled around.

Faculty clarified the partner situation by the end of the first week. Apparently, only your first ballet partner at Russet was assigned. This was done on purpose, in order to get you used to working with new people, but you’d be allowed to choose your own partner starting January 1st. This was the only reason you hadn’t immediately marched to the front office and demanded a change. Clearly, this was a test of partnership. Jimin might be the devil himself, but he hadn’t asked to switch partners and you’d be damned if you gave in before he did.

On the opposite side of the room, Jimin smiled and you scowled, wondering what Sabrina could possibly have to say that he found so hilarious. In the two weeks you’d known her, Sabrina had yet to utter a joke in your presence. Suspicion clouded your judgement, since it was no secret amongst the class that Sabrina’s ballet partner wasn’t as talented as she was.

The idea that she might be after Jimin entered your mind while you watched. While you didn’t want to be Jimin’s partner, you also didn’t want Sabrina to be Jimin’s partner.

You were shaken from this thought by Miss Britt clapping her hands.

“Pliés, ladies and gentlemen!”

Miss Britt led ballet class on Tuesdays; right now, she stood at the front of the room while she waited for everyone to echo her movements.

“From first,” she said, adopting the same position. “Little breath on the intro, and – demi plié one, two. Demi plié three, up four. Grand plié five, port de bras six –up seven, eight. Rise to relevé on two! Hold three, four. Grand plié five, up six, tendu to second. Repeat!”

You followed her with half-movements, attempting to mimic her delicate port de bras. The grand plié was fast, which was tricky – you’d need to control your center as you rose from the ground.

“Start on the right,” said Miss Britt, turning around. “Skip third. I want to see you sweating by the end, everyone! Pliés should be as much effort as battements! If I don’t see sweat, we’ll do center barre again next week.”

A ripple of panic went through the class.

Center barre was a time-honored ballet tradition, loathed by all. It involved doing warm-ups in the center of the room instead of at the barre. This required additional strength and concentration; enough to cripple even the most stoic of ballerinas.

As the pianist started, the entire class inhaled and fell into motion. Hips square, core engaged, heels down, head tilted up and to the side. You let each breath you took flow through your body, mirroring the stance Miss Britt had shown.

True to her demand, your muscles were already warm by the end of the first side. Miss Britt made her rounds at the edge of the classroom, stopping occasionally to dole out corrections.

“Your back is arched, Irene!” she called. “There, that’s better. Louis, move through the motion. Save your ballistic stretching for jazz class. Good, good.”

“She’s coming,” Noelle whispered beneath her breath.

Hiding a smile, you ducked your head. Miss Britt was close – you could see her in the corner of your eye as she turned the corner, heading down your row with an eagle’s eye.

Dropping into the final plié, you struggled to keep your hips square while you rose from the ground. Miss Britt stopped alongside you, examining you for a moment before she began to walk forward. 

“Heels forward,” she said, correcting your stance. “Imagine everything rotates from the hips. Push down through the ground and out! All motion is powered by the glutes. Yes… better,” she said, begrudgingly moving on.

A bead of sweat rolled down your neck and dropped into your leotard. You knew her praise hadn’t been as genuine for you as it had been for others. Noelle glanced your way from the corner of her eye, but you continued to stare straight ahead. Miss Britt was nearby, and you didn’t want to give her another reason to scold.

As the music came to a close, Miss Britt stopped at the front and began the tendu combination. You were soaked with sweat before rond de jambes ended, only the massive amounts of hair spray and gel you had used holding your bun in place.

Barre lasted over an hour, which was longer than usual. As you and Noelle dragged your barre to the side at the end, you felt your grip slipping on the silvery metal. Trying to stay hydrated, you drank half your water bottle on the side of the room.

The water break didn’t last long – soon you were gathered in the center of the room for adagio. Miss Britt was the kind of teacher who used both hands and feet to relay the combination. You stood on the sidelines and watched; a bit dizzy from how much you’d sweated already. More water before class would’ve been a good thing.

The one positive about the adagio was it was a solo, not a pas de deux. You had ballet partnering classes throughout the week, of course, but oftentimes your normal ballet teachers assigned partner work as well.

This was why Jimin stood beside you, hovering nearby in case he was needed.

Casting a withering glance at him in the mirror, you assumed fifth position and firmly squared your shoulders. Behind you and to the left, Jimin rolled his eyes.

Jaw clenched, you decided to ignore him.

Sabrina stood on the opposite side of the room, paired with Paulo Goncalves, a talented ballet dancer – just not as talented as she was. Before you could look away, she turned her head in your direction. You winced, ready to move but then realized she wasn’t looking at you.

She stared at Jimin. Sabrina looked at him in much the same way mothers examined produce in the grocery store, taking in every angle to determine if it was valuable.

You stiffened when you saw this, unsure what to do. Sabrina’s gaze moved to you before you could blink and when she saw you, she smiled.

It wasn’t a nice gesture.

This was disarming enough that when the music began, your mind went completely blank. The rest of the class started, raising their arms overhead and you could only stare, lips parting in horror. All steps of the combination had flown from your mind.

“Développé devant,” Jimin whispered behind you.

Instantly, the steps returned to your memory. Snapping to attention, you raised both arms overhead. As you caught up to the class, you extended your right leg in the air.

Miss Britt turned in your direction, luckily not noticing your momentary confusion and when she moved on to Brian, you exhaled in relief. As the combination continued, a question mark formed in your mind, and you chanced a subtle glance sideways at Jimin.

A vague sense of confusion settled over you. Jimin had helped you, which seemed extremely out of character for a demon from the depths of Hades.

When you glanced his way though, Jimin didn’t seem to notice anything was off. He looked almost peaceful as he moved through the combination, executing the steps with perfect timing. The sight of this made your blood boil, since the combination was difficult, and he had the audacity to make it look so fucking easy.

Each line of his body radiated grace and control; he truly was remarkable, it made you nauseous to watch. The lightest twitch of his pinky was purposeful, his body held perfectly still as he stepped into arabesque.

You lost sight of him when you penchéd, catching Jimin again in the mirror when you rose. Logically, you knew he was also working hard, but it didn’t show at all. You, on the other hand, were working and looked like you were.

When the combination ended, Jimin breathed easily, barely winded, while you felt as though you’d just run a marathon.

“Y/N!”

Head whipping up, you met Miss Britt’s gaze at the front of the room. For a moment, you panicked and wondered if she’d seen your lapse after all. If there was one thing not tolerated at Russet, it was failing to pay attention.

She looked at you for a moment, as though searching for what to say and then simply said, “Square your hips in arabesque.”

You sagged slightly in relief. “I will,” you promised, but she’d already moved on.

“Irene, less port de bras. Any more flapping and you’ll fly away. Paulo – you’re lagging on your transitions. Stay on the beat. Now,” she said, turning around. “Find your partner. The next adagio is paired.”

Jimin walked forward and came to a stop beside you. You stiffened at his proximity, uncertain what to say.

He’d helped you – Park Jimin had helped and you couldn’t fathom why. For the entirety of your teenage years, Jimin had been your worst enemy; it only stood to reason the trend would continue at Russet. When he glanced at you in the mirror, you found the silence unbearable.

“Thanks,” you said at last.

Jimin turned to face you, surprised. “What for?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him as well. “You know what.”

“I do.” Maddeningly, he smiled. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Well,” you said through gritted teeth. “We all have things we want but can’t have.”

Jimin was about to respond when you noticed Miss Britt starting the combination at the front. She had one of the students from senior class helping, an incredibly talented dancer named Seokjin. Seokjin was ridiculously beautiful and equally shy. This didn’t stop half the freshman class – girls and boys – from harboring a fat crush on him.

Holding out his palm, Jimin waited until you placed your hand in his. Pulling you close, his other hand went to your waist while Miss Britt began the combination.

“Start in fifth,” she said with Seokjin behind her. “Ladies – relevé one! Hold two. Both plié three, up four. Ladies – right leg to passé and extend seven, eight. Relevé one! Hold two, hold three, four. Bring leg to attitude efface – seven, eight.”

Already, you found yourself sweating and you were only marking the steps. So far, the adagio placed heavy emphasis on the female partner, with the male only offering support. This was frustrating, since male partnering was difficult, but in a different way than for women. Men needed exceptional strength and balance to support their partner, but oftentimes it was the woman executing the more technical steps.

After front attitude, you extended your leg, pliéd and Jimin lifted you up. This required great coordination and timing – both his hands on your waist, he hoisted you into the air. Miss Britt stopped the music at this point to give you a minute to practice.

Not that this helped. While in high school, you’d done minimal partner dancing. Your studio hadn’t had any male dancers in your level; the partnering you had done was mostly female, which was a different expectation than traditional ballet.

The lift was hard and even two weeks into classes, you and Jimin still hadn’t mastered it. You kept smacking Jimin’s chin with your head when you leapt from the ground. This time was no exception – you heard the crack when it happened, a sharp pain radiating from the base of your skull. Jimin swiftly let go, dropping you on your feet.

“Ouch!” he yelped, stumbling backwards.

“Sorry!” you said, whirling around. “Are you alright?”

Jimin rubbed his jaw. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “I’m fine. Let’s just… try it again.”

You nodded and maneuvered dutifully into position, his hands returning to the same spot on your waist. After a deep inhale, you pliéd and jumped – and Jimin immediately dropped you, your feet hitting the floor.

“What was that?” you demanded as you spun around.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one whose weight was pitched forward!”

“It was not!” Despite this, you frowned. It was possible Jimin was correct on this one. “Let’s just… do it again.”

Jaw clenched, Jimin returned to position and you tried it again. This time was passable; no one smacked anyone’s chin when they jumped and you landed on the right count, but it still felt somehow off. You were working too hard; when you glanced at Noelle and her partner, Eamon, their lift looked so effortless. Such mastery escaped you, slipping through your grasp no matter how often you practiced.

At the next water break, you immediately left Jimin’s side. Going as far away from him as you could, you drank eagerly from your bottle and relished in the silence.

Someone coughed from behind you.

Turning around, your expression instantly soured when you found Sabrina inches away. She had nary a hair out of place and for a moment, you wondered what’d happen if you messed up her bun. You got the feeling Sabrina was used to being in control.

Before you could speak, she took a small sip of water. Her gaze searched the room and landed on Jimin, who was saying something to Seokjin with a laugh.

“He’s talented,” she remarked.

Ignoring this, you drank from your own water bottle. “If you say so.”

Her gaze returned to yours, lips curled in a smile. “I do say so. You know it’s true, too. Jimin is talented, which makes me think you’re the reason you two can’t get that lift.”

Stiffening somewhat, you slowly bent to place your water bottle down on the floor. As you rose, you took a step forward and lifted your chin.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” you told her.

Sabrina’s lip twitched. “Oh. Touchy.”

“You should leave. Isn’t your partner looking for you?”

“Hm, not sure. He might not be my partner for long.”

Unthinkingly, you stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.” Sabrina examined the nails on one hand. “It’s a pity Jimin has to be partnered with you when he could have the best dancer in the class. I plan on letting him know I’m available, if he ever wants to switch.”

“Are you seriously–”

“Miss Y/L/N!”

Both of you shut up, your heads snapping sideways and Sabrina immediately took a step backwards. Miss Britt stood before you, but how long she’d been there, you didn’t know. Desperately, you hoped she hadn’t heard the entire conversation.

Sabrina immediately turned away; Miss Britt let her go, which didn’t bode well for you. You’d been holding out hope this had something to do with your conversation, but this didn’t seem to be the case. Miss Britt watched Sabrina leave before she turned to you.

“I’d like to speak after class, if that’s alright,” she said, her voice low.

She didn’t sound angry, which made it even worse. Anger was a fickle emotion; it came easily and left easily. The calmness was worse, since it sounded like Miss Britt had something serious to say.

“Sure,” you said, managing to nod. “I’ll stay.”

She nodded and turned away, walking to the front while you stared at her back. After a moment, you shook yourself free and moved towards the center. A dull roar pounded your thoughts. Thousands of worries pressed from every side, each one more worrisome and insistent than the last.

This was it – you were finished. Russet was kicking you out. Somehow, you’d been sent an acceptance letter in the mail, but it was a mistake and you were being sent home.

When you returned to the center, you dully stood by Jimin’s side. He glanced at you curiously, sensing something was wrong.

“Are you –”

“Let’s just dance,” you said, moving to fifth position.

Jimin wisely let it go, stepping behind you to place his hands on your waist. The pianist began to play and you started the combination but the entire time you danced, your mind was somewhere else. You couldn’t help but think about what Miss Britt might have to say, each possibility you considered being worse than the last.

Things went smoothly for the rest of the class, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Everyone else picked up on steps easier than you did; Sabrina was right about that. Jimin was a talented dancer and he had experience with partnering.

He wasn’t the problem here – you were.

Jimin was quiet for the duration of class, which was unusual. You wondered if he was annoyed by your incompetence and again, your mind flashed to Sabrina’s words. She wanted Jimin as her partner. This made you feel a bit desperate because as much as you didn’t like Jimin, it would be humiliating for him to switch on you mid-semester.

If you were in Jimin’s shoes though, you would consider it. Sabrina had flawless technique, was beloved by the teachers and would only help his star to rise. They also seemed to get along well together, unlike you and Jimin, who were constantly at odds.

Realizing this, your stomach sank. Yes – if you were Jimin, you would consider switching partners.

When the hour hand on the clock finally met the twelve, you hastily gave your applause and bolted towards your dance bag. You lingered here, waiting for class to clear out, but you couldn’t stand being next to Jimin for one second longer. Thanking him had been humiliating enough for one day.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Jimin hesitate before he walked out. The rest of the class began to pack up, chatting with one another while they left the classroom. Miss Britt stood at the front with the accompanist, likely going over music for the next class.

Noelle also paused before leaving, but you told her to go and said you’d catch up with them later. You waited until most of the class had left and then you took a deep breath and walked to the front.

“Miss Britt?” you said, coming to a stop.

She faced you with a smile. “Ah, Y/N! Good, good. Let’s talk. You can go,” she said, dismissing the pianist.

Once she had left the room, Miss Britt again turned to you.

Your stomach twisted in knots. Now that you stood here, the worst kinds of scenarios ran through your mind. Miss Britt would kick you out of Russet; you would have to enroll in second semester at a local college. You’d have to return to your hometown with your tail tucked between your legs and all your dreams of a dance career would be ruined.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted before she could speak. “I didn’t mean to argue with Sabrina in the middle of class like that. It was unprofessional and I promise it won’t happen again.”

Miss Britt blinked. “Well, that’s good,” she said slowly. “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“It… wasn’t?”

A small part of you had been holding out hope that this was it. That you would get a mild talking-to and be on your way soon. 

Miss Britt was known as a strict, but fair teacher. When she wasn’t yelling corrections at students across the floor, she came across as laid-back. There was a reason Mr. Vlad was the terror of freshman students and not her. Although Miss Britt was demanding, she tended to offer dancers advice as opposed to cutting them off right away.

“Talking in class is one thing,” she said with a stern look. “I don’t need to tell you how prestigious this institution is. I’m sure other teachers have emphasized that point enough. You’re only throwing away your own time and money by not taking this seriously.”

Your stomach sank, since you did take this seriously and hated the idea that Miss Britt might think you didn’t. It didn’t seem like the right time to interrupt though, so you let her finish.

“More than that,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about your progress.”

“My… progress?”

“I understand you were a competitive studio dancer before this, Y/N?”

Warily, you nodded. “I was.”

“I thought so.” Gently, she smiled. “I remember your audition tape – impressive, I must say. Your solo was exquisite, and your performance quality was one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Hearing this, your heart began to swell with pride. Perhaps this wasn’t the terrible conversation you’d been expecting after all.

“But your ballet technique is behind the other students.”

Like a balloon popped, your chest swiftly deflated.

Miss Britt continued. “I see this often in competitive dancers, even if you did ballet in addition to other styles. People who trained as ballerinas before Russet usually have a more solid grasp of the fundamentals. People like Sabrina.”

“Ah,” you said, careful to keep your voice neutral.

“I know Miss Ernst isn’t always the easiest person to get along with,” Miss Britt said. “But she trained at our prep school before she entered the Academy. It might be helpful for you to ask her for some pointers.”

“Right.”

“Or even your partner, Jimin,” she offered, noticing your hesitance. “He’s a studio dancer too, but he trained more extensively in ballet. I don’t know if you know this, but he won the Grand Prix two years ago.”

The Grand Prix was a national ballet competition – no, not a ballet competition. It was the ballet competition. You knew that Jimin had competed and won the Classical Ballet solo category. You hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, since you hadn’t been there, but Jimin’s smugness the month after remained burned in your mind.

“I may have heard something about that,” you said at last.

“Or someone outside of those two.” Miss Britt gave you a small smile. “I do offer solo sessions, but I’m unfortunately all booked for the semester.”

“That’s alright,” you said faintly. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Of course.” After a moment, her gaze became scrutinizing. “I don’t want you to feel discouraged by this, Y/N. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to have this conversation with a freshman, and it won’t be the last.”

You nodded and hesitated. She may have intended her speech to be comforting, but you couldn’t stop the vague sense of panic which spread through your limbs. The next words out of your mouth left before you could stop them.

“But how many of those students were given an offer to the Company?”

Miss Britt paused, and you glumly realized the truth. Not many.

The Company was what this was all about, of course. Russet Ballet Company was known not only for impeccable traditional ballet, but for their recent expansion into jazz and contemporary. Only fifteen offers to the Company were given to the graduating seniors at the end of four years.

Heart sinking, you realized this meant you were at the bottom. Perhaps not in every dance style; as Miss Britt had noted, your performance quality was exceptional and you were a strong contemporary dancer, but freshman year focused on ballet.

If you couldn’t last the first year at Russet, there wouldn’t be any opportunities later for you to prove yourself.

“Alright,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

Miss Britt straightened. “Find someone to train with,” she said. “Ask your classmates for help. I wouldn’t have this conversation if I didn’t believe you could do it, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, trying hard not to cry.

Seeming to realize you had enough to consider, Miss Britt nodded and stepped back to rearrange her sheet music.

“I’ll see you in class next week, then,” she said with a note of finality.

Sensing the conversation was over, you nodded and turned to walk across the room. Fingers tightening on the straps of your bag, you stared straight ahead and focused on something else. Something – anything but the terrifying idea of your dreams crumbling around you.

Coming to a stop at the water fountain again, you filled up your bottle and focused on breathing. Most of your sweat had dried, loose strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck. You screwed the cap on your water bottle, shoving this in your bag to head towards the stairs.

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t hear the sound of your name being called until you’d nearly reached the end of the hall.

“Y/N – wait!”

Stopping short, you paused to glance over your shoulder. To your surprise, Jimin was hurrying towards you down the length of the hall. He was dressed in black sweats and a jacket, his hair still slightly mussed from the class you’d just left.

Coming to a stop before you, Jimin cracked a smile. “Damn, Y/N. You walk fast.”

“What do you want, Jimin?” 

His smile disappeared. Straightening, Jimin’s fingers played absently with the strings of his hoodie. Some of his usual haughtiness reentered his gaze.

“Why do you always assume I want something?”

“Because I know you,” you said. “That’s how we work. You say something asshole-ish, I respond with something rude and we both move on. So, come on. Out with it.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “I – wow, Y/N.”

You waited a beat.

“Was that it?” Dully, you arched a brow. “Not your best insult, Park. Anyways, if that’s all you have to say, I have to go.”

“What is your problem?” Jimin said, wonderingly when you turned to leave.

Halting your step mid-stride, you stared at the wall for a moment before you turned around. Stalking towards him, a part of you knew that deep down Jimin didn’t deserve this, but it’d been such a long day and you were just so tired. The suggestion to ask Jimin for help was the final straw.

“My problem?” you said, coming to a stop before him. “My problem is having you for a partner.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “Hey. It’s not my fault you messed up in class today, Y/N.”

“Of course not,” you snapped. “It’s never your fault. Perfect Jimin, beloved by every teacher and student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means!” Realizing how loud you were being, you lowered your voice. “You’re a guy, Jimin. It’s easier for you.”

His jaw dropped a little. “Are you… are you being serious, Y/N?”

“Oh, come on,” you said, giving a bitter laugh. “Are you honestly going to say you’ve never noticed? It’s easier for guy dancers. All the teachers love you because you’re a novelty. You can do the exact same thing as a girl dancer, but everyone looks at you because oo, a boy! Even your fucking center of gravity is higher than women! You have an advantage in dance, and it sucks.”

Jimin’s face had gone slightly sallow while you spoke.

“Some advantage,” he sputtered. “I never felt advantaged when I was strapping myself into a dancer’s belt before class.”

“Oh, how sad. Your penis is uncomfortable.”

“I – let’s stop talking about my dick,” Jimin muttered, his cheeks turning red. “There’s an equal number of girls here as guys, Y/N. I’m not any sort of novelty compared to you, so why don’t you let the past go? Who cares who won between us during high school?”

“Let the past go?” you repeated. “That’s a lot coming from you. You’re the one who suggested our bet in the first place.”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin frowned. “You’re the one bringing that up now, not me.”

“I’m just bringing it up to prove a point.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I even tried to collect on my winnings.”

Still facing him, you scowled. “You didn’t win.”

“Technically,” Jimin said, holding up a finger. “We said the first person to get three trophies. I got three.”

“Three trophies at competitions we both competed in,” you shot back. “I didn’t compete in the last one, so you didn’t win!”

“A technicality.”

“See!” you said, in clear disbelief. “You’re still harping on this and then you turn around and tell me to ‘let the past go.’”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Listen, Y/N. If I had an advantage in high school, it’s gone now. There’s an equal number of girls as guys here at Russet and I’m working just as hard as you.”

“Wrong,” you said. “I have to work twice as hard to get the same result.”

“That’s just not true!”

“It is! That’s the only reason you won against me as often as you did in high school.”

“Hey,” Jimin snapped, finally sounding annoyed. “Fuck, Y/N – are you being serious right now?”

“I don’t know,” you exhaled, tearing your gaze away.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the staircase and willed yourself not to cry. The two of you were being so loud, you seriously hoped Miss Britt hadn’t heard. It would be just your luck to get in a fight with both Jimin and Sabrina on the same day.

Everything hurt. The words from Sabrina and Miss Britt continued to run through your mind and the last thing you wanted was for Park Jimin to see you cry.

“I just – have to go, Jimin,” you managed to say. “I’ll see you later.”

Pushing past him, you avoided eye contact and left him standing alone at the top of the stairs. Jimin didn’t respond, but you heard his ragged exhale behind you as you left.

Shoving open the door to outside, you pulled a sweater from your bag and wrapped this around you. Blinking in the sunlight, you took another deep breath and began to walk down the street.

Jimin wasn’t the main reason you wanted to cry, though he was a part of it. Years of tension, resentment and competition had finally led you to explode – but beneath that, there ran a current of confusion.

Jimin had been waiting for you out in the hall.

Every explanation to this that you thought of sounded ridiculous, since Jimin hadn’t seemed mad or angry when he’d first called your name. An inkling of regret swirled through you and, somewhat uncomfortably, you wondered if you’d misjudged him.

Maybe you really were the only one holding onto this dumb rivalry. It’s just that Park Jimin could be so infuriating without even trying.

He had to know men had the advantage in dance – they always did. It was obvious each time you turned on the TV and watched any dance reality show. Women needed twice the stage presence, athleticism and musicality just to get on the same stage as a guy who taught himself to pop and lock in his basement.

It was even more infuriating because objectively, Jimin was better than you and – rationally – you knew you should ask him for help. This was the logical thing to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dismiss your pride. Asking Jimin for help would be like admitting he was better and you absolutely refused to inflate his ego.

A few steps from Grace Hall, your phone dinged in your pocket and when you pulled it out, you saw Finn’s name on the screen. Rather than be elated by this, your heart sank a little. You two had made tentative plans to hang out but right now, the idea of seeing other people made you a bit nauseous.

Finn: hey, babe! Want to grab dinner tonight? My roommate is crashing at his family’s house this weekend, so we’d have the place to ourselves ;) [11:22 AM]

Your thumb hovered over the keys for a moment, wanting to say yes but Miss Britt’s words from earlier lingered in your mind. You were behind your fellow classmates. You needed a teacher, you needed a tutor and at the very least, you needed more practice.

Slowly, you typed out a response.

Y/N: Last minute practice was scheduled for tonight ☹ rain check for tomorrow? [11:23 AM]

Finn responded fast, somewhat disappointed but agreeing to your abrupt change of plans. You didn’t respond, shoving your phone in your bag to walk up the steps of your dorm.

You had lied to Finn. There wasn’t practice tonight, but you knew he wouldn’t agree with your assessment of the situation. Finn didn’t understand your world of dance, which wasn’t his fault. It also wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend had chosen such an intense career path which left little free time. Finn was a normal college student and understandably, he wanted to spend time with his girlfriend.

Once in your dorm room, you tossed your bag on the floor and slowly exhaled. Noelle wasn’t there, so you stood in the center and tightly closed your eyes. You allowed the silence wash over you, taking several deep breaths and when you finally opened your eyes, you felt a bit calmer.

The day consisted of lunch and two more classes – variations and pointe – but at the end of it all, you returned to your room and changed from your clothes. Tugging sweats and a t-shirt on over your body, you placed your leotard in your laundry and left the room.

Danley Hall was a short walk away; you’d heard from upperclassman that studio space was available on a first come, first serve basis. It got crowded at the end of the semester, when people were practicing for showcases, but it was fairly empty when you arrived at 7:30 PM.

Climbing the steps to the fourth floor, you let yourself into the first empty room you found. Setting your bag on the ground, you waited a moment before facing the mirrors.

The practice room smelled like wood, rosin and whatever cleaner they used on the glass. Outside the room the sun had begun to set, casting misshapen shadows over the floor. Plugging your phone into the speakers, you stepped from your shoes and slowly walked to the center.

As the first notes of music left the speakers, you closed your eyes and inhaled. For the first time all day, some of the tension drained from your body.

With wood beneath your feet, dust motes in the air and a familiar song on the stereo, you finally felt at home. Stretching both arms overhead, you rose on your toes and hung there a moment. When the music changed, you dropped to a lunge and let yourself be pulled by the music, your body one step ahead of your thinking.

Miss Britt was right; you weren’t a ballerina. You had no idea if you ever would be, but this was something known, this was something you were good at and something you loved. This was a moment where you came alive.

The longer you danced, the more frustrated your movement became. So much emotions swirled beneath the surface, frustration chasing each step as you danced across the floor. You tried to stay ahead of it, tried to dance beyond its reach but the emotions caught up in the end, dragging you down and swallowing you whole.

When the song ended, you found yourself breathing raggedly in front of the mirror. Staring at your own reflection, you felt your heart sink. It wouldn’t matter how much you loved this if you didn’t even make it through the first year.

After another moment, you turned and walked towards your phone. Switching the song to a classical one, you took a deep breath and went to stand at the barre.

As the first notes began, you rolled your neck and waited to count yourself in. While you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Jimin for help, that didn’t mean you couldn’t take matters into your own hands. You’d seek out other teachers, you’d find other students and you’d do this barre twice as often until you began to improve.

Opening your eyes, you began grand pliés.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[mcuwritin]

Mission gone wrong II

Part 1

Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

genre: angst

warnings: blood, death, injury (let me know if I should add more)

word count: 1600+

12.12.2022.

You were never allowed on a missions that involved Avengers. Every agent Hydra had faced them at least once, but not you. You were held as far away from them as possible. And that, for some reason, frustrated you to no end. You were not used to feeling anything besides anger and pain, but whenever you saw someone head out on a mission against the Avengers you felt a weird pull in your chest. Almost like... longing? But you've never met them so it didn't make any sense. You can't miss someone you don't know.

But then they changed their mind.

You were training the newest set of recruits, when Vlad, a particularly cruel supervisor, told you to start packing. You were heading to the States.

You started your mission right after the darkness settled.

Defense system of the building that houses The Avengers is laughable. It took you exactly three minutes to bypass it. Maybe that's because they think no one would dare to trespass or maybe you're just that good.

They're pathetic, said the voice in your head. Sometimes you felt like it didn't belong to you. You wondered if the fury inside you didn't belong to you either. What if it was simply planted inside your head?

Passing by the elevators you turned to head up the stairs. Your footsteps silent, your body hidden in the shadows. After reaching the 6th floor you waited until the camera turned to face the other way to move further. Pathetic.

Compound was empty, safe for the man who built it and some agents, who could never pose a threat. Not to you.

You've been injected with what Hydra spent decades trying to perfect. You became their perfect weapon, silent and deadly. You've never failed a mission, always coming back successful. But it was never enough for Hydra, so each time you came back, they tried to make you even better.

Sometimes you thought about not coming back, but the pain caused by such thoughts was so intense and unbearable, you couldn't even move an inch, let alone run away.

Just as you reached the door to Stark's laboratory you hesitated. Hand that held the knife in your hand shook slightly. You wondered what the anxious feeling in your chest meant. But you can't afford distractions, not now.

You went in.

There, hunched over some blueprints, stood the Iron Man. He was in here for the past three days and you wondered what was so important to keep him here day and night.

He didn't look like his usual self. His goatee grown out and his closes were crumpled. There was an untouched mug with an AC/DC logo. You felt a pang in your chest when you noticed the writing just under the letters.

Sorry for the one I broke!

Y/n.

You knew of every Avenger and Shield agent living in the compound, but you've never heard of Y/n. Is she the newest addition to the team? If so, you need to report about her to Vlad. Maybe he'll be happy enough to let you go without a beating.

"Hey, kid." Stark said turning around.

You remained silent, stepping closer and closer to your target.

"Not going to say anything?"

"No." You replied.

He smiled and crossed his arms, leaning against the table. He didn't attempt to reach for his suit and he didn't try to notify someone of your presence.

"I knew you'd come once the compound was clear of the rest of the team. Hydra's been watching me for the past six months, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Hoped they would send you. I'm glad I was right."

"So you have a death wish. How cute." Your voice devoid of any emotion. You are running out of time.

You raised the hand with a knife in it, ready to slice his throat clean when Stark spoke up again.

"What about Wanda?"

You stopped. You heart skipped a beat and then another one and then it started to hammer against your chest with a newfound strength. You hands strated shaking again.

"Are you going to kill her too?"

"Who's Wanda?" You said, trying to remember why her name has such a strong effect on you.

"You always introduce her as the love of your life." He replied inching closer to you. Only now you noticed a syringe with a bluish liquid in it squeezed in his left hand.

You immediately grabbed his wrist so tight that his bones broke. He dropped the syringe on the ground and pushed away, outstretching his right hand to catch the flying glove of his suit.

You tried to catch it, but the defence mechanism in it sent a blast at you. You almost managed to get out of the way, but your back got badly burned, revealing your vibranium bones.

"What did they do to you?" Stark asked, terrified. He got both of his now gloved hands trained on you, wincing whenever he tried to move the left one.

"They made me better." Was all you said, before launching yourself at him.

He tried to dodge your blows, but he is nowhere as fast as you are.

You tore off the right glove, feeling a pang of guilt when you noticed his pained expression.

Before he could even think about using his injured hand you plunged the knife right into his heart, your hand jerking slightly just before it pierced his skin. You didn't bother checking for his pulse, needing to get out of this place as soon as possible.

Mission accomplished.

Why do you feel like a part of you just died?

03. 03. 2023.

The cold wind ruffled your hear, distracting you for a second. You've been in the position whole day, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. The roof you occupied is empty, closed for construction.

You were more than a thousand feet away from your target. There's a gathering in what used to be the Stark tower, the Avengers and some government officials are meeting to discuss something rather important.

You adjusted your grip on the rifle, not daring to put it down even for a moment. You can't miss the moment Black Widow comes out for a breath of fresh air. Recently she's been doing it a lot. Pathetic.

You've spent the past month studying her, looking for the best way to take her out. Since Stark's death the Avengers were rarely seen alone and Natasha Romanoff was always in the company of Steve Rogers. You knew you'd have no problem killing her if she was alone, but with Captain America by her side she might defeat you. You were willing to try, but Vlad didn't let you.

"There's also a witch, she will get into your head if you come too close." He said on a briefing.

"I've never heard of her. Who is she?"

"Briefing is over. Valentina is waiting for you in the lab."

You were pulled out of your head when you noticed the movement just in front of the balcony. Black Widow opened the door, ready to step out, but someone put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

You were getting impatient waiting for the conversation between the two to end so the spy could finally step out of the protection of the bulletproof glass.

The door finally opened letting out the spy and another woman.

A woman that looked too familiar for your liking.

Wanda.

Ever since your last mission you couldn't get her name out of your head.

You became unstable when you got back from the compound and they had to wipe you again.

You woke up with her name on your lips.

Is she the witch Vlad was warning you about?

You saw them hug on the balcony. It looks like Wanda is crying and you don't know why, but you felt the strongest urge to wrap her into your arms and tell her everything is going to be okay. You need to make sure that your girlfriend is fine.

Your... Your girlfriend?

Your hands relaxed their hold in the rifle, ready to turn and run as fast as you can, but before you could move insufferable pain shot through your skull, rooting you in place. Your vision blurred and you legs gave out under your weight.

You felt your hands involuntary reach for the rifle again, adjusting the aim.

No. No. No.

It's Natasha! You can't hurt her. She is the one who welcomed you into the family. She is the one who introduced you to Wanda. She is the one who helped you pick out the ring.

And you... you killed the person who felt like a father to you. You killed Tony with your bare hands.

The pain shooting through you body is not allowing you to breathe anymore and your hands are adjusting the position of the rifle.

You need to stop.

You need to complete the mission.

They're still on the balcony, you have enough time to aim and pull the trigger.

Pull the trigger and the pain will stop.

You tried to stop, you tried to scream and cry, but your body didn't belong to you anymore.

You felt like you were in a passenger seat of car, that was going off the road.

You can't do anything now.

You tried as hard as you could to stop your finger from pulling the trigger, but you still saw the bullet hit your best friends chest.

You couldn't hear Wanda's scream from this distance, but you felt it pierce your heart.

The pain went away.

Your mission is done.

-

They left you in your cell to rot in your grief.

At this point you didn't feel anything. You didn't feel the pain in your heart and your head. You were numb.

And then you were terrified.

They're going to wipe you again. You'll forget everything again and they'll make you kill another Avenger.

You started scratching the floor with your nails, trying to write the dates before they wiped you again.

They will make you kill Wanda.

_________________________________________

Sorry it took me so long.

Feedback is appreciated 💞

tags: @marvels-writings @kermy48

[library-of-cronos]

There isn’t much more to say about it

Ao3

Day 1: Confessions, Growth, First date

Vlad Masters had never been a patient man. His mother always told him that he would be one day, even after seeing his younger self play in the snow for hours, or skip rocks across the half-frozen lake for just as long. But even in college, the amount of patience he had was limited.

The bench he was sitting on was quite dirty, stained by mud and littered with dead leaves from the upcoming winter, but at least it was sheltered by the saving grace that was the roof over the bus stop for the 68, which was the one he used to take before he had someone to give him a ride. The route was still clearly used, as he saw it run every day going to and from the Madison University he went to, but this stop wasn’t used as often.

That made it feel a bit like his own private bus stop. A little, desolate place he could work out the impatience in his veins. Because all he felt like doing right now was jumping in the air and running up and down the empty street, or swinging round and round the street lamp until he was dizzy like he used to do as a kid.

But, he kept all of that inside, instead forcing himself to let loose the emotion by bouncing his leg up and down and playing with the hem of his dress shirt.

Because the last time he ‘jumped for joy’, he ended up twenty feet in the air, panicked and unable to come back down for several minutes. And because the last time he ran up and down the street, he ended up running faster than cars speeding down a highway.

It had been a few weeks since the accident. It was a wonder Vlad was still alive, even if he doubted that fact sometimes.

The protoportal wasn’t meant to work. At least, not on the first try it wasn’t. It was honestly just a test portal. Something to see if they could even get to work without adding any ectoplasm to it. Which is why the wiring wasn’t the best, the failsafes weren’t in place, and none of them took it seriously when it started to make odd noises after turning it on.

The only thing that saved Vlad’s life was his best friend tackling him to the ground when the portal started shaking and charging up. When a giant ray of green shot across the room and not only destroyed the items on the desk, but scorched the wall behind them, Vlad nearly had a heart attack in Jack’s arms.

It was only after his other best friend started to cry did he realize that he wasn’t completely unscathed.

Vlad rubbed at the bandages down the whole of his right arm.

Maddie was the one to point the giant, pink, glowing burn on him. While Jack had the panic attack for the three of them, Maddie had run off to grab help. ‘Help’ being a first aid kit. The three of them weren’t stupid. They knew that if this was reported to the dean, or if anyone knew about this, their club, and possibly the whole university, was going down in a flame of lawsuits.

And, well...Vlad was fine. It didn’t hurt as much as it looked like it did. The bright pink burn was fading (a bit too quickly), and hardly hurt so much as a sunburn did.

But Vlad had gotten what he called ‘ghost powers’. Flight, invisibility, intangibility (his most unstable power, as he discovered), and what he always assumed were plasma rays that sometimes shot out of his eyes and hands. He had also had an encounter or two with teleportation. Sometimes he would end up on the other side of the room, sometimes on the other side of town, but always out of panic. Everything was different, and it seemed like he was getting a new power every day.

But that wasn’t the only thing that was different.

Vlad always did his best to put feelings aside for his work. It didn’t matter how depressed or lonely he got late at night, his work came first. Maddie knew that, Jack knew that, and both of them seemed to be the same way. Emotions clouded judgment, created biases, and let you down more often than not.

But when someone does something like that, risking their own life for yours, it’s almost certain that science can’t hold back emotions for too much longer.

The sound of Jack’s motorcycle barreling down the street was such a familiar sound now. He had bought it second-hand after the owner, an old friend of Jack’s, decided he didn’t like doing continual upkeep on it. It was massive and strongly built, enough to support Jack’s towering form, as well as any modifications he made to it.

Vlad stood up and waved to Jack, as well as to the person behind him who was holding onto his waist. When they parked and she took off her helmet and set it on the seat, shaking off her short, red hair, Vlad’s heart skipped a beat.

See, Vlad had only recently fallen in love with Jack, but his love for Maddie had been there ever since they had met in high school. A beautiful, smart, capable lady who believed in the paranormal just like he did? How could he not fall in love?

And Maddie had returned his feelings, confessing her attraction to him when they were seniors. But, as they both knew ever since they were accepted to the same university, their work came first.

Then they met Jack and all of that changed.

Here was this bubbly, loud, extroverted man who got excited over everything and loved to talk about the family he was going to have one day when he found the right person. “Or people!” he always said, like it was some inside joke.

It was only when Vlad caught himself staring at Jack’s perfect hands or gorgeous dark hair that he realized what he had meant.

Jack had been the one to convince him and Maddie that a date was exactly what the three of them needed. ‘Convince’ being practically a threat that if they didn’t sort out their feelings, everyone’s feelings, then they were just ignoring the problem when the solution was right in front of them.

“V-man!” Jack wrapped him in a tight hug, swinging him off the ground for just a moment.

Vlad wheezed. “Hello to you too, Jack. Now could you please put me down? I can’t breathe.”

“Ah.” He gently set Vlad down just as Maddie walked over to the two of them. “I forgot how twiggy you are.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Vlad’s tone and smirk should have been a sign that he was joking, but he stopped and took in the sudden fear on Jack’s face as he leaned down to Maddie and whispered something to her.

Maddie shoved his face away playfully. “No, Jack, he doesn’t hate you.”

Vlad was frankly offended that he thought that was possible.

“Now come on boys, we’ve got a date to get to.” Maddie was already walking away before she had finished her sentence with her ‘boys’ in tow.

The diner they had picked out a few days ago was by no means good. It wasn’t in ruins, or abandoned, not by a long shot, but it wasn’t the best in town. The tables had several stains, the drinks were always a little watered down, and the cracks in the floor tiles were grimey from not being cleaned often.

But, they were perfect for college students. They had good, affordable food, including a student discount, and hot coffee always at the ready at every hour of the day. They also tended to not ask questions about the odd folk who jingled that bell above the door late into the night.

When students came in with books about dissecting bugs or preparing bodies for funerals, they didn’t ask. When people came in with dead eyes and hunched backs, asking for coffee, then adding a can of redbull to it, they said nothing.

Which also meant that the three of them were free to talk about their little spectrology passion without fear. And without questions as to why a college student had bandages on the entirety of his arm.

Their date, of which Vlad was a little ashamed to admit was his first, didn’t seem too different from what he was used to. Just the three of them talking about their work, their hobbies, and what they had planned for the day.

Vlad knew they were all just avoiding the topic at hand, though. There was this tension between them, like none of them wanted to admit or bring up why they were here not as friends, but as something more.

The glass of water the waitress had set in front of him was dripping with condensation and sent a chill down Vlad’s spine when he went for a sip. He was just glad to have the aisle seat, as it left his left leg free to gently bounce without disturbing the table.

“Alright, enough stalling.” Maddie set down her own glass after taking a long gulp. “You both know why we’re here.”

Jack nodded and smiled, but Vlad tried his best not to seem as pale as he felt, nor look as warm as his skin was. He didn’t feel like running away, per say, but the idea was tempting. And if the look on Maddie’s face when they made eye contact was enough, he wasn’t hiding it as well as he would have liked.

The sweet smell of pancakes growing closer briefly distracted him, but Maddie was unrelenting. Jack, however, got excited and started smiling. Maddie quietly scolded Jack for shaking the table, but for that moment, Vlad could relax.

Until the waitress carrying their plates and Maddie’s coffee tripped. Vlad instinctively brought his hands up to his face, closing his eyes, and Jack quickly stood up and put himself between him and the scorching food but...nothing happened.

The waitress was on the ground, mouth agape and staring straight up at the floating, pink-hued plates and mug above her. She quickly scrambled backwards and ran towards the counter, ducking behind the swinging doors.

Vlad looked down at his glowing hands and yelped at the same pink glow that quickly faded. Everything dropped as all eyes in the diner turned to them and the shattered porcelain and spilled food and drinks at their feet.

Vlad met Jack’s wide eyes, saw the unblinking stare from Maddie, and ran.

He ran, not caring that the door never opened and newspapers flew out of people’s hands as he passed.

He ran and ran and ran until he reached the bus stop he had been waiting at a mere half hour ago. He sat down on the seat, letting out a heavy sigh that he had been holding since the diner. The chilly winter air bit at his arms, especially his bandaged right.

He looked down at his hands. He could still imagine the bright pink hue to them. He could still feel the warmth that came from it too.

That pink, that plasma that he always used as a weapon, it wasn’t just for that, was it? He choked out a laugh. God, how many powers was he going to get? He’d have to add levitation to the list. Did he have a list? He didn’t want to make one if it was going to make him this sick to think about.

He was never going to be able to erase the burning image that was his two best friends’ fearful looks from his mind.

In all his excitement and wonder and curiosity at gaining powers, he had forgotten that he was no longer human. He was no longer human and even worse, he was the very thing the three of them vowed to hunt and study.

They put work before feelings, so was there any doubt they would put their feelings for him aside as well? What would they start with? They always said that ghosts only knew chaos and faked everything to trick people. And here he was, lying to them for weeks and causing a scene when it was his own fault that his secret was revealed.

They must hate him. He just proved all of their theories right. He manipulated them and took advantage of their emotions to get what he wanted; to get them to not question why he no longer needed a ride to class or didn’t need to eat at lunch or never needed a coat.

God, they loved him and cared about him and trusted him and he broke all of that. They would never forgive him. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

Jack’s fluffy hair peaked around the corner of the bus stop. There wasn’t any malice to his eyes, but the slow, careful walk to sit next to Vlad told a different story. Maddie had joined in from the other side of the stop, strolling over and sitting on the opposite side of him.

“Please...leave me alone.” His voice was weak, but he tried to be strong. “I’ve done nothing but lie to you two.”

Jack responded by wrapping an arm gently around his shoulder. Maddie merely took his hand and kept it at her side.

“Nothing’s changed, V-man.” Jack smiled. “You’re still Vladdy, even if you have cool superpowers.”

“You...think I’m cool?”

“We’re your friends, Vlad.” Maddie said softly, squeezing his hand. “And if this is a new part of you, then we’ll just have to grow alongside you.”

Vlad couldn’t help the urge to hug the two of them, quickly closing the distance. They returned it just as quickly. He really did have the best friends, didn’t he?

“Now, there’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time.” Maddie smiled playfully, then quickly kissed Vlad on the cheek.

He flushed pink and went to cover his face with his hands, but was stopped.

“And something I’ve been meaning to do.” Jack did the same, soft kiss, but on his other cheek. Vlad didn’t want to let go of his hands, nor Maddie’s, so he didn’t. He felt like the whole world when he held on, and never wanted to let go.

“I love you guys.” Vlad said, face completely pink with joy.

“We love you too, Vlad.” Maddie said. Jack’s bright smile agreed. “We always have.”

[burning-clutch]

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death 

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.”  One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they���ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here”  Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.  

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin.  “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total:  2363