#why would they Not haunt their home turf!!!!

[debtsunpaid]

creepy magic murder cop: i see you, boy. the vanishin' fuckin' hiker, i do declare. you think we din't notice you, tryin'a get picked up back in florida? ( constantine, back in dead in america #1: head west, stay off the interstate, and ... don't stop for anyone, okay? ) creepy magic murder cop: he ain't here to save you, shitheel! he ain't here for nothin' but hisself! your time's over, shadow! you and alla your fuckin' parasites!

shivering and shaking like a wet purse chihuahua convincing myself that this is the ghost of frank north coming home to roost. riding out from cali to help his buddy once again.

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do, Part 2

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts.

-----

Jason jolted up suddenly from his practiced slouch at the dinning room table. Absently, he was aware of the conversation falling silent around him, but he barely took notice past the hum of static that filled his ears. It was like a hundred radio stations playing at once. Each one was trying to say the same message— to tell Jason the same information— but it was like it was all in different languages and pacing. And it was getting louder and louder and—

The glass in his hand shattered.

And suddenly it was quiet.

Shards of glass dug into his palm. A blissfully quite part of him was aware of blood and wine dripping down his palm and onto the table. He sucked in a shuddering breath.

“Jaybird?” Dick asked. He was leaned in close next to Jason, but even though Dick had reached out, he didn’t touch. They were all so careful about touching him these days.

Thing were better; the best they had ever been since his return from the dead. There were monthly dinners at the manor and sharing information and the occasional patrol together— but they still were so cautious about touching him. Even Dick, who always put on a smile and an easy air, had an almost minuscule hesitation before he reached out and touched Jason on the good days. On the bad days, Dick didn’t even try. Only Cass would touch him without checking the colors of his eyes first, but she still held back when the signs were obvious. He couldn’t even blame any of them, not any more.

Not even as the Pit whispered to him that it was because they didn’t care enough to try.

“Jay?” Dick tried again.

And Jason didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know why. Usually there was some comment, some action, some instigation that made the Pit rear its ugly head and scream. This time there was nothing like that. His vision didn’t even fill with green. It was more like someone had walked over his grave. He didn’t even feel the urge to lay a hand on anyone in the room. There was no violence to any of his family bubbling under his skin like the Pit normally pulled up. He just wanted to get out of there.

“Something’s in Crime Alley,” he said, or he thought he said. He moved to stand, but Dick finally touched him. A heavy hand on his shoulder kept him sitting. He could hear them talking around him, Bruce giving Tim some sort of an order, maybe calling for Alfred. It didn’t matter. He had to get out of there. He had to get back home.

Something was in Crime Alley.

----- The longer that Danny was in the other halfa’s haunt the more sure Danny was that he did not want to meet the halfa. This haunt did not feel good. Danny was sure that the state of this part of the city didn’t help the feeling, not with the rows of condemned buildings, dirty alleys, and overflowing gutters.

He was also pretty sure he’d just passed a drug deal, but Danny was careful not to look too closely. Sure, he couldn’t really be killed if he attracted too much attention, not by something as basic as a gun or knife, but he’d just gotten this hoodie. He didn’t really want to get blood on it.

He also didn’t really want to risk getting caught in his apartments laundry room trying to get that much blood out of something. His was pretty sure neighbors already thought he was was a little shady.

That happened when someone woke up screaming a lot, he guessed.

But the drug deals and run down infrastructure didn’t explain how off Danny felt. The longer that Danny was in the haunt, the more that it felt like his core was roiling. Like something inside it was bubbling up and if he didn’t force it back down it would consume him. It scared him.

Worse, it made him angry.

Danny was more than half worried that if he ran into the other halfa now, he would just punch the other ghost. He may have zoned out on a lot of the princess’ lesson, but he was pretty that was not the right etiquette for anything other than starting a turf war.

Hoping to avoid another battle, Danny made his way as quickly as he could out of the haunt. He could do his shopping somewhere else. The edges of the haunt were surprisingly defined. From one side of the street to the next it was like Danny had jumped into a pool of ice cold water.

All of the fear—

All of anger—

All of the oppressing, consuming hate that he had been feeling were just… gone. Just like that.

Yep. Danny really need to get that ‘please don’t disembowel me’ gift and get the fuck out of here before he ran into the other halfa.

Maybe he could even gift some things to help the other unwind, because boy did the other halfa need to. It’s not like scented candles or chocolate would actually save a soul, but who didn’t like a nice relaxing bathbomb and something nice to eat? Right?

It took longer than Danny expected to find the right sort of store, but it turned out to have almost everything he needed. Bathbombs? Check. One had a nice, warm scent to it: amber and sandlewood and smoke and the other was a nice simple citrus. He figured that range covered the bases. There was even a little basket he could buy and, when he mentioned it was a gift, the staff gave him a small, simple card to write his message on. He filled it out there in the store and tuck into the basket the clerk had done up with a little crinkle cut and a craft paper bow.

On the way back he stopped at the sweet shop he had passed and added a little box of truffles to the basket. For a quick gift he thought it actually looked really nice. If he hadn’t been in a rush he might have done one up for Jazz too. Ancients knew she needed to relax a little more.

As it was, he found another alley to tuck into and transformed back to his ghost form. As soon as he dropped off the gift, he planed to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to risk a delay of transforming and running into the other halfa in his mortal form.

Flying back, he went against everything is gut told him and flew deeper and deeper into haunt. The fear and the anger came back quickly, churning in his core, but the more that Danny followed the feeling to the center of the haunt there was something added to it.

There was sadness.

A deep, soul consuming sadness. It made Danny want to flee for a whole different reason; it was a feeling that he knew too well. Pushing his trepidation aside, Danny pressed on and slipped through the wall to stand in front of the door to what he was sure was the other halfa’s apartment. This was the most concentrated part of the haunt at least.

Danny chewed on his lip as he stared at the door. For some reason, now that he was standing in front of the apartment, he was nervous about leaving the gift. He shook himself out of it, quickly set the basket down at the door, and fled. At least it was done.

-----

“Sorry for intruding on your haunt! Total accident. Please don’t disembowel me. Sorry again,” Dick read off the card that had been tucked into the gift basket.

This brings us to the end of Ch. 1 and the very first line of Ch. 2. My apologies for any mistakes, I've had a migraine for about a month now.

Tag list: @fisticuffsatapplebees | @thegatorsgoose | @wolfeyedwitch | @lazy-bouqet

[crusty-chronicles]

BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Yusuke (Yu Yu Hakusho)

He likes to act like he's some callous tough guy, but really he's a huge softie.

Can get annoyed by your dullness, but other than that this boy is whipped

Yusuke is the furthest thing from book smart, but he's very street smart.

You on the other hand, aren't smart at all.

The amount of times he's had to pull you out of oncoming traffic is insane.

Not a single scratch on your either

But when HE wanders out in the street to get some kid's ball, he ends up getting hit by a car. 

Yusuke's known you since he and Keiko were in diapers. 

And even then he thought you were a strange kid.

I'm sorry? Did you just ask him if he could smell what purple tastes like??? While coloring with a red crayon?

You put your baby teeth under the bed? So the monsters don't get hungry???

No you cannot have some of his mother's ‘juice.’

He was never the best at making new friends, and you'd been around long enough for him to grow fond of your strange habits. So~he didn't mind you tagging along.

Especially when he'd reached junior high and his bad boy facade really ramped up.

Always getting into fights, always ditching school, always getting into trouble just because he could.

It should've come as no shock that you'd get after him for his behavior. Like the rest of the people in his life.

You'd caught him one day after school. Yusuke having been in a fight, which he of course was punished for by Iwamoto. Even though he wasn't the one that started it.

You had grabbed his arm, thinking he was skipping again.

But when he turned around you could see various scratches littering his face, along with a purple swelling under his eye.

“What happened?” You asked.

“None of your business.” He dismissed.

He was already having a bad day. He didn't need you to accidentally make it worse. Yet as always, you didn't seem to get the hint.

“Did you get into a fight?”

“I said it was none of your business.” He snapped before adding, “Not like I need another lecture today.” 

Keiko had chewed him out enough, and he still had his mom to deal with at home. And now you wanted to nag him too? Great. Just great.

He waited for the inevitable “How could you be so careless!” And, “What were you thinking!”

Instead he was met with silence.

He looked up and noticed your hurt expression before you turned to leave.

Instantly he started to panic.

For whatever reason, he couldn't stand to see you upset at him. You, who always had something to say with your dopey smile. Who always tried to help even if you didn't know how.

No, he didn't like your downcast expression at all.

So this time it was him stopping you.

“Hey! I didn't mean it like that…Look, I got jumped, okay? But I put those bastards in their place, so don't worry about it.” He decided to test his luck and hug you.

When you didn't tense up or pull away, he allowed himself to relax against you.

 “Let's just go home.” 

“Okay…Wait, does that mean we're having a sleepover?”

He gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to his house.

Safe to say he's got a huge soft spot for you.

Your spirit awareness is even higher than Kuwabara’s.

You were probably the only person who could see Yusuke's ghost floating around after he died.

Asking him “why are you haunting my house?” 

He figures he might as well explain his situation, much to Botan's dismay. But when was he to ever care about the rules.

It's during that time he finally gets to see you fight.

10/10 your biggest cheerleader.

He'd asked you to watch over Kuwabara when the doofus had promised not to fight for a whole week.

You two got along well, which wasn't surprising considering you had not a single brain cell to spare for hostility.

It wasn't long before the two of you were cornered by a rival junior high gang. You'd told Kuwabara to run on ahead and that you'd catch up.

That was when the leader decided to run his mouth. What would inevitably be his undoing.

“Now that Urameshi’s dead, this turf is ripe for the taking.”

It was probably the first time Yusuke's ever seen you actually mad.

“What did you say?” 

One minute. That's all it took for you to beat the gang of seven.

Using one of them like a bowling ball and throwing him towards the rest of them.

All the while Yusuke is cheering in the background above you.

“Aim for the kneecaps! You got them, Y/n! Toss the bastard again!”

He's very proud of you. And his pride only swells when your strength grows along with his.

Joining the dark tournament and still kicking ass. Winning most of your matches with hardly a scratch. Except for Toguro. We don't talk about that shhhh!

Like I said he can get annoyed, but he usually puts up really well with your antics.

You call Kurama rose boy, not because of his powers, but because as you put it, “His hair’s the color of roses.”

It fits, but for the wrong reasons.

You steal Hiei's bandage around his eye, and Yusuke is practically fighting for his life to stop him from attacking you.

“You're supposed to look someone in the eyes when you talk to them. All your eyes.”

And he's crying trying to stop his laughter before Hiei sets his sights on him next.

You once mimicked his spirit gun with your hand and actually shot out a beam.

His mother never did let him live it down with the huge hole in the ceiling.

The realization he liked you wasn't some great build up or special moment. 

He just woke up one day and decided it was you. 

His reason for trying to be a little better as a person. Why he was fighting so hard during both tournaments. Why he was so willing to die in his battle with Sensui.

He doesn't get the chance to confess. No…You do it first.

Right after he'd won and became in control of his body after defeating Sensui, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him.

Pressing your forehead softly to his.

“I'm so happy you're okay.”

Yusuke can get jealous, especially if the other person doesn't get the hint.

And if someone's flirting with you before you're together. 

He likes to glare over your shoulder until they get nervous and leave. Then he'll feign an innocent look when you turn around.

But if he's with people he trusts, he doesn't bat an eye. They know he'll throw down over your affections.

Yusuke can be romantic, but only when he really tires. Usually he prefers to tease you.

Expect to be called: babe, baby, sugar, hot stuff, and if he's feeling really vulnerable- sweetheart.

If he wants to be a menace to everyone around him he'll slip in a ‘pookiebear.’ But never unironically.

You know how he proposes to Keiko at the end of the series?

With you he knows a normal proposal won't work. So he just kinda puts the idea out there.

“You're gonna have to buy your own cups when we're married. It's getting harder and harder to find ones that fit with our house’s aesthetic.”

"We should have a beach house wedding, dont’cha think? Maybe Hiei will finally show up that way."

“Y/n? You mean my wife/husband? The love of my life?”

And it pays off.

You bring him a little box one day and tell him to open it.

Inside is a small gold ring.

“I found a ring so we can be married for real!” 😃

Yup, you're definitely the one. You and your small brain and big heart.

MASTERLIST

AN: I'm gonna try and balance out my hxh and yu yu hakusho fics so everyone eats good. 👀👀👀

[batbetbitbotbut]

my slow cooker smells like cinnamon. MAKE IT STOP - A Reddit Saga

With thanks to Direct-Caterpillar77 for compiling this as a BestOfRedditorUpdates post here.

THE PROLOGUE: Too many apples. how to use them (that isnt a pie)? Oct 8, 2024

unicornfarthappyhour: went apple picking and ended up with wayyyy too many macintosh apples. ive already made 6+ pies, apple tarts, apple mini pies, baked apples... and i still have 2 dozen apples ..please share any ideas on how to get through a horde of apples

EDIT - THANK YOU!!! so far tonight i made applesauce and have 2 trays of dried apple slices in the oven right now! 14 apples remaining!!

mrmadchef: Apple butter? I think you can even make it in a slow cooker.

THE MAIN EVENT: my slow cooker smells like cinnamon. MAKE IT STOP Oct 15, 2024

i made apple butter and now my slowcooker has a permament cinnamon smell. i tried soaking the lid in soapy aater for an hour. i washed every part 8 times, unscrewed the handles and cleaned every nook any cranny.. but IT WONT GO AWAY!!! and its not a faint smell its a cinnaMAXIMUM smell in the lid.

is there a product i can use? or do i just have to accept my fate?

fruithasbugsinit: Try slow cooking two cups of 1:1 vinegar and water. Then let it air out and cool down for a day or so for the vinegar to go away. ETA: Unless you have birds as this can hurt or kill them with their sensitive systems.

unicornfarthappyhour: have I wronged you in the past? my home. my santuary. is being forcibly air marinated. I'm dry heaving with each breath as the tiny vapors of this weaponized witches brew of Cinnamon Vinegarette Salad Dressing deep dives into my esophagus.

FIVE HOURS LATER:

unicornfarthappyhour: the mixture of vinegar and cinnamon scents wafting through my kitchen is permeating through my eyeballs and directly into my soul.

wawa2022: Throw a piece of fish in that baby. You won’t smell the cinnamon anymore unicornfarthappyhour: squinting really hard at you lol

THE FOLLOWING DAY:

unicornfarthappyhour: As i drifted off to sleep last night i still smelled it, covering the inside of my nose. and dreamed i was pickled.

it seems that the cinnamon has effectively mutated in the fiery hell of its vinegar battle, and has has now become a biohazard. i soaked the lid in a big plastic tub with water, soap and vinegar mixture, because why not double down?

my sunk cost fallacy arguement has now made the bin ALSO smell like a spicy formaldehide.

my next attempt is sunlight, and open space....aka sneaking into my in laws home while theyre on vacation and leaving it on their kitchen table for a week.

im 99% sure my nasal membranes have adopted these defiant particles and have begun incorporating them into my mucus. my sneezes are spicy...

FIVE DAYS LATER: Update Oct 21, 2024

unicornfarthappyhour: Welcome back to my cinnightmare.

I had to drop off my ILs mail, so I checked on my lid. I was hoping that sunlight and fresh air would help, but my lid is not made of vampires.

Accepting temporary defeat I moved the fight back onto home turf, and got a new set of supplies. Shout out to u/generic-curiosity who reminded me about the hydrophobic properties of my cinnenemy. With this knowledge, I was ready to reengage in this battle

I armed myself with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a Love is Blind sized wad of paper towels, and…olive oil.

I scrubbed with alcohol, then rubbed it down with the oil, then back at it again with the alcohol. Out of context, that would make for an amazing party game.

this Sisyphean deodorizing battle will haunt my dreams for years to come.

I don’t remember how many times I repeated this alcohol and oil endeavor, but I’m going to choose the number 6, because of the evil connotations of the number.

Much like my spirit, the smell has died down and has become a repressed whisper of the wild soul it once was.

Satisfied that my slow cooker no longer bore the tonsil-coating scent of a season craft store mid-december, I went on my merry way. Ignorant, I Know.

As the days went on, and I continued to use more kitchen supplies, I began to think this was all in my mind – I just. Kept. Smelling. It. SOMEWHERE.

Like any sane person I started sniffing around my kitchen like a tweaked out 2 legged bloodhound. I had used a rubber spatula to stir my cinnncoction. Immediately binned it. I refuse to bend my will for the $2 spatula. And now, it will never see the light of day again, forever to think about how it failed to serve its culinary master. Forever to miss the hot broth it once knew. It must suffer in perpetuity for its betrayal.

And I am NEVER using cinnamon again.

the apple butter tastes amazing.

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 50: Radiance -While waiting for the next wormhole, Shingen and Katsuko enjoy domestic fluff, birthday cake, and snowboarding… but an old video leads to an unsettling discovery.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: Here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

With ten weeks until the next wormhole opened, modern Japan ended up being kind of a vacation for Shingen and I. Rather than join Sasuke in Kyoto, we elected to stay in Nagano since it was more or less home turf for both of us. Thanks to Aki’s generosity (I considered it an employee bonus and figured I had earned every penny – especially since he hadn’t ever paid me an actual salary), I had more than enough money to rent a decent furnished apartment for a few months.

Before the winter kicked in, we rented a motorcycle several times and toured through the countryside, riding down to the Yamanashi Prefecture, formerly Kai. After some discussion, we elected not to visit the Tsutsujigasaki historic site – it would be too strange and jarring. “When we go to Tsutusjigasaki Castle,” he told me, “it will be as it was, so I can introduce you to its people.”

In return, I showed him all of my old kid haunts – not that there were that many – and my favorite places to hike and climb. And of course, Shingen being Shingen, we created our own tour of Teahouses and bakeries around the city.

Sasuke came up from Kyoto every other week, mostly to hang out, but also to report what was going on with the wormhole and his investigation into the mystery of Aki. The latter was unfortunately stalled due to his parents having taken a sabbatical trip through China – they’d rented their house out to a businessman from India.

On my own, I was doing similar research on my old mentor, but to no one’s surprise, he kept an extremely low internet footprint. Nothing like putting your primary residence 450 years in the past to help you stay off the grid. Similarly, though I haunted the library and archive sites, I was unable to find a lead on “Hikosane.” If he had done something important during his lifetime, it wasn’t in the historical record.

The first weekend in December, Sasuke came up and took Shingen out for a man-bonding afternoon. That was how Sasuke described it. I described it as “get him out of the house so I can bake him a birthday cake.” The birthday meal itself, I would trust to delivery, but I wanted to at least make him something sweet.

Cooking and baking were not activities I had done a much of after my mother died, but prior to that, I’d been the primary cook, not just for meals but also desserts. I had gone through a phase where I baked the most decadent things I could find, hoping to tempt her to – Ah… maybe that was why I wasn’t a huge fan of sweets now? I jotted that down in a notebook my therapist was having me keep. I had decided to see a therapist for my claustrophobia and nightmares. They were never as bad when I was with Shingen, but I felt it wasn’t his job to deal with my mental health – I needed to take responsibility for that. Obviously, there wasn’t a lot I could accomplish before we headed back through the wormhole in the Spring (I told my therapist I was moving to Vancouver) but I hoped to at least have the tools I needed to keep moving forward.

I checked the temperature of the cake layers that were cooling on wire racks. Online, I’d found what looked like (per the number of stars the recipe had) an extremely decadent recipe for chocolate and strawberry cake. While I might never win any cake decorating contests, I was confident the cake would at least taste good. Just as I finished mixing up the buttercream frosting, Shingen and Sasuke came through the door, stomping snow off their boots.

“Sorry to bring him back early – the snow’s getting fairly deep.” Sasuke hates driving in snow. For that matter, Shingen’s not terribly fond of being a passenger when Sasuke is driving, so I ought to have expected an early return.

“No worries.” I’d been listening to the weather reports. Deep snow tonight meant this weekend I could finally take them snowboarding – an excursion that we’d planned for as soon as the weather cooperated.

“What’s all this?” Shingen eyed the cake and the bowl of frosting with the intent interest of a sugar fiend who’d been held hostage in a health spa for a decade. “If it tastes as good as it smells, then I’d say we’ve gotten back right on time.”

“I hope that wasn’t supposed to be a surprise.” Sasuke headed to the coffee machine that we kept out just for him, as neither Shingen nor I had ever developed a taste for it (though Shingen did have a fondness for those fancy caramel mocha lattes they sold at the chain coffee shop – go figure).

“No, it was to prevent… that.” Shingen had grabbed the bowl of frosting and a spoon. I took the bowl away. “That goes on the cake,” I said. He gave me an adorable little boy frown. I leaned closer and said to him quietly. “If there’s any leftover after that, we can have it later… I’ll take the role of the cake.”

Shingen had been stealthily reaching the spoon for a raid on the frosting, but upon hearing that hastily aborted the mission. I ran my finger along the edge of the bowl, scooping up a small amount of frosting on it, and held it out to him. “Will this hold you for a while?”

He sucked my finger into his mouth and licked away the frosting. “For dessert, yes. For you, my sweet Devil, not even close.” He backed me into the counter and dipped me into a kiss. He tasted of chocolate and snow and promises.

“Not a full wall, so I suppose that’s a half-kabedon,” Sasuke toasted us with his mug of coffee.

“Only the Russian judge will care.” I scooted out from under Shingen’s arms, then handed him my phone. “This cake will not frost itself. Why don’t you guys pick a place and order dinner. In this weather it could take a while to get here.”

Shingen opened up the restaurant delivery app. “Any preferences?”

“Your birthday, you pick. Just order something vegetarian for me.” I began putting the crumb coat of frosting onto the cake and pretended not to notice when Shingen stole another taste.

Sasuke rescued the cake from becoming a “naked cake” by taking Shingen into the other room to watch TV – they were working their way through the original Star Trek. I’m not sure Shingen was all that into the show, but it was fun to watch Sasuke watch it. Apparently, he and Gene Rodenberry had incompatible views on the science of space travel. Already I could hear him grumbling that spaceships didn’t need to ‘bank’ in zero gravity.

While I lost myself in the soothing rhythm of cake frosting (given the number of tiktok and youtube videos of people frosting cakes, I wasn’t the only person to appreciate the ASMR quality of cake decorating), I let my gaze wander from where I could see Shingen and Sasuke joking around in front of the tv set, to the window, where the late afternoon snow was lightly brushing against the window.

Respite.

There was that word again. Away from the stress and danger of the Sengoku, Shingen and I were cocooning in this little apartment, learning how to be together without distraction. Once we got back, we’d both have our battles to fight. I was determined to find Aki and demand an explanation, while Shingen was making plans to try to wrest Kai from Nobunaga. But until then, it was nice to have this comfort of daily living together, in order to strengthen what we’d need to face these challenges, both as individuals, and as ‘us.’

Later, after we’d finished dinner and a good portion of the birthday cake, the sugar crash hit, and we all sprawled lazily on the couch, good naturedly debating what to watch, without making any real effort to actually make a decision.

“Are you going to finish that?” Shingen indicated the remainder of the slice of cake that I hadn’t managed to eat.

Oof. Even if I thought I could move (too full), or wanted to move (too comfortable under Shingen’s arm) I didn’t want it. I’d made the cake to his tastes, not mine. “It’s about eighty percent frosting – go ahead. I’ve never liked that much sugar.”

He reached for it, then paused. “Except for the sweets from the Teahouse in Kasugayama – you liked those.”

I made a show of looking innocently at the ceiling and folding my hands penitently while Sasuke snickered quietly from his end of the couch.

Here came the forehead flick. “Really, Devil?”

“I never actually said I liked them. I simply didn’t correct your assumption that I did.” I resisted the urge to rub spot he’d just flicked. No need to encourage him.

“What am I going to do with her?” Shingen addressed Sasuke, who looked like he wanted to yeet out of the conversation completely. “She happily lies to me, steals my clothes” (oh yeah, I was wearing his shirt again), “-falls out of trees-”   

“Alright, enough about that.” I gestured to Sasuke’s tablet, which was currently wirelessly connected to our TV. “Sasuke, go to youtube.” I gave him the address of the old youtube page that Toshiie and I had put up when we were still teenagers. Hopefully after so many years, it was still there. “We’re going to settle this tree thing once and for all.”

Sasuke did that ninja typing thing again. “Password?”

“Tony_Stark1610.”

“Ironman? Really Katsuko, you need better privacy settings than that.” He brought up the page. The freerunning videos were at the top, but we were going to go further back than that.

“Shut it, Spidey I was fourteen when I created this page.” No one would have been looking for it in any case.

He sighed. “At least you didn’t use your pets’ name or your birthday.”

“Sixteen ten is her birthday,” Shingen offered.

Also, Tony Stark had been the name of my cat, but I was not going to bring that up to Sasuke. “I’ll change the password later.” I directed him to the oldest video on the page.

It had been the last time I’d ever competed in artistic gymnastics – a small local competition. My mother, who normally was my biggest supporter had been having a bad week and that morning hadn’t left her bed. Toshiie had filmed the event so she could see it later. As far as I knew, she’d never watched. I’d quit soon after that – I’d only been doing it for her to begin with, and I didn’t have the funds -or the talent - to move up to an elite level. Not that that mattered now. What was on the video would likely look more impressive than it actually was.

Shingen and Sasuke watched my fourteen-year-old self tumble and flip across the balance beam. “There will be no more talk of me falling out of trees.”

“Can you teach me some of that? It would come in handy for a moderately awesome ninja.” Sasuke had a faraway look in his eyes. Likely imagining surprising Yuki or Kenshin with new tricks.

“Ah, now I understand what you meant about training as a performer from a young age.” Shingen watched teen Katsuko slide into a full split then dismount the beam with a flourish. “Are you still that flexible, Devil?”

Nobody with breasts and hips is that flexible. I was about to reply to that one with a forehead flick of my own, when the next video began. “I had no idea he posted this – Sasuke click stop.”

It was the freerunning video from the day of the wormhole – just seeing the view of the building that I was about to ascend brought back the feelings of restlessness and anxiety from that year.

“What’s wrong?” As usual, Shingen was tuned into my emotions and he picked up my hand and held it comfortingly.

“The day we got swept into the Sengoku, Toshiie filmed this. I was just surprised that he’d had time to put it on the page.” Discovering this was like time-traveling to my younger self in an archival wormhole.

“May I watch? I’d like to get a sense of the weather conditions that day – it’s a rare opportunity to have this type of data for analysis.” Sasuke had instantly become alert, ready to flip into Weird Science Mode.

“Um, if we play this, I need to warn you in advance – I was a lot more of a daredevil back then, and my brother and I fought about what I did here.” Which was why I was surprised he’d uploaded it. Maybe to try to talk me out of taking risks.

“So noted.” Shingen didn’t actually promise not to get upset, but Sasuke had already pressed start. I resisted the urge to watch Shingen, especially when I almost fell off a three-story building, but I could feel his tension at that point, and… what was that? “Wait, Sasuke, can you play that back?”

“I really don’t want to see you almost die again.” Yeah, Shingen sounded upset and his hand was almost squeezing mine too hard.

“Don’t watch me – look beyond that… left side of the roof.” Something had distracted me that day – that was why I had nearly fallen to begin with. “There.”

“I see it!” Sasuke paused the video and pinch zoomed. “What the hell is that?”

There had been someone else on the roof – a blurry, foggy figure who then vanished into the horizon almost as if they’d unzipped the sky and climbed in. “Now I am creeped out.” There wasn’t any way to tell who – or what – that had been. “Sasuke..?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He zoomed in some more, but that just added to the blur. “Permission to send a copy of this to myself?”

It might have been Aki.

It might have been Iekane.

It might have been someone completely unknown to us.

Who the hell were these people?

In any case, tracking down and confronting Aki suddenly became a lot more important.

The snowboarding expedition was a mixed success. Sasuke’s Ninja training had come in handy, and after a few basic pointers, he had left to try out his skills on an intermediate course… or more accurately, he’d wanted to further bond with a cute tourist he’d met on the ski lift.

Shingen was athletic, but this was one of the places his height was a disadvantage. With his higher center of gravity, he’d had some trouble getting into his knees. Eventually though, he’d picked it up, and soon was swooping down the training hill. He did fall a couple more times after that, but since both times he’d managed to take me down with him, I figured those had been on purpose.

After a couple hours, he noticed I was eyeing one of the half-pipes. “If you want to do that, I’m ready for a break.”

Hm. It had been seven (or, was it eight – I was never sure how to count the unknown amount of time I’d been stuck in the wormhole) years. Could I still manage it? But with Shingen voluntarily encouraging my daredevil tendencies – why not? I gave him a quick kiss. “See you at the bottom of the hill.

In no time at all, I’d dropped in and traversed the pipe. I’d kept it simple, without trying any of the tricks I used to do, aside from simple 180 turns at the top of each wall. But the rush was still there, and I zipped to the bottom with a whoop. Flying. Me and the sky. But the bigger rush? Seeing Shingen waiting for me at the base of the hill, smiling as he watched me skid to a stop.

“I once called you a moon goddess,” he said as I disengaged from the board. “I was wrong. You’re pure sunshine – made for daylight – the most radiant being I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled up at him and took his hand. “You keep that up and you’re going to melt all the snow.”

“What time are we meeting Sasuke?” he asked, while we were waiting to return our rented equipment.

“We’re not.” I pulled a hotel key card out of my pocket. I’d already packed some luggage for both of us in order to keep this a surprise. “Sasuke took an uber back to the apartment.” Or possibly he was furthering his acquaintance with the tourist he’d met earlier. “You and I are going to that hotel over there,” I pointed to the resort attached to the snow park. “Where we can celebrate your birthday by soaking in a private hot spring.”

Later, under the clear star filled sky, Shingen lowered himself with a sigh into steaming hot water. He leaned back against the natural rock formation and gazed out on the view of Mount Kosha. “This was a good idea you had.”

“I do have them, occasionally.” The combination of the snow kissed air and the hot water felt wonderful on my skin and ok- slightly – aching muscles. “I am a little sore after that… are you?”

“Given that I am close to five hundred years old, yes. These bones aren’t what they used to be.” In opposition to his statement, he swiftly pulled me onto his lap.

“I think you’re in great shape… for your age.” I ran my hands over his chest muscles.

“I fell a little bit in love with you the moment you said that. You had this challenging glint in your eyes.” He put his finger under my chin and drew my face up to his. “Yes, just like now. You hung onto that basket of pastry and acted like an insubordinate recruit.”

“In my defense, you had just set me up to be killed – hey!” Shingen removed my wet tankini top and tossed it aside. My nipples immediately tightened in the cold air. “That is not a place I want to have icicles dripping from.”

“Can’t have that.” He fastened his lips to my breast and warmed it with his mouth and tongue. “Hold still, Devil. I want to see if I can put the same look on your face that you had when you were zipping across the half-pipe.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him closer to me. “You do, Shingen. You might not always be looking my way when it’s there, but… you do.”

@bestbryn

[josephthesnailshow]

Burnt Luigi

Burnt Luigi is a creepypasta/arg created by JosephTheSnail (or JosephTheSnailShow). The story explains about a weird copy of Super Mario 64, an installment of Nintendo's Super Mario franchise, where the player supposedly activated an easter egg that shows Luigi burning alive and becoming disfigured afterwards.

I love Nintendo. The console I grew up with was the Nintendo 64; the games on the console are alright, but the one I liked the most was Super Mario 64. Unfortunately, I just realized that I don’t have a copy of Super Mario 64; I looked everywhere and couldn’t find one—only a dusty Nintendo 64 console I have.

I shrugged and asked my parents if I could get Super Mario 64 again; they agreed, and I went across the street to the nearby GameStop next to Walmart, because it's a submall with GameStop—I found the game, brand new, and gratefully purchased it—but there wasn't any short message written in sharpie on the cartridge or anything eerie from one of those haunted game stories I'd seen before.

I returned home, dusted off the console, and turned on my Nintendo 64 to begin playing, and the game began as it usually does: I was greeted by the head of Mario, I pressed START, and it played the cutscene where Mario jumped out of the pipe; I didn't find anything weird; it was like any other Mario game. Keep in mind that this game was not cheap; it cost the exact same as what you would expect from a Super Mario 64 copy.

Anyway, when I first started the Bob-omb Battlefield level, I collected stars one by one.

After I reached the top of the mountain, King Bob-omb came there to greet Mario and say his line. For some reason, his brother is mentioned in the text, but I don't remember what it said because I was focused on the good part of the level, fighting King Bob-omb. I did notice the text though; here's what he said:

"I'm the Big Bob-omb, lord of all exploding matter, and king of global ka-booms! How dare you scale my mountain? By what right do you set foot on my imperial mountaintop? You may have eluded my guards, but you'll never escape my grasp. And you'll never take away my power star. I hereby challenge you, Mario! If you want the star I hold, you must prove yourself in battle. Can you pick me up and hurl me onto this royal turf? I don't think you can!

Don't disappoint Luigi."

I didn't care since there's nothing weird about hearing Luigi get mentioned in any of the Mario series. I finally collected the star after I defeated King Bob-omb.

Nothing really weird happens; it's just me having fun.

But I played the game until I unlocked the basement after defeating Bowser and getting the key; I didn’t go into any detail because nothing fascinating happened, and then I entered the basement.

This area always creeped me out as a kid; I don’t know why. I just walked around messing with my N64 controller for the fun of it; I don’t know what I activated, but I might’ve activated a secret, and eventually, I reached the part of the basement where the picture frame of Lethal Lava Land is.

For some reason, instead of the figure in the picture frame, it was Luigi. For some odd reason, this version of Super Mario 64 is so dedicated to Luigi that it's almost like the "Year of Luigi" thing is still continuing; I personally didn't find anything wrong with it since I like Luigi as a character after all.

Again. It didn’t seem too out of the ordinary because Luigi was planned to be in the game in the beta test days, but I just jumped into the picture frame, and I was sent to the level afterward.

Lethal Lava Land was the same as it normally should be, but some platforms were missing and coins were gone.

I began looking for stars to collect in order to unlock a level or star room. I eventually arrived at the platform where Mr. I was supposed to be, but instead of Mr. I, Luigi was standing there on the edge, not moving at all. I approached him to see if he was just Mr. I with a different model; this could have been a modded version of Super Mario 64, a personalized copy, or something, but I accidentally pushed him into the lava.

I felt very bad for him.

His screams and cries for Mario were not distorted or recorded by a different person; they were made by Charles Martinet, the voice actor of Mario and Luigi.

After Luigi’s flesh melts and he drowns in the lava, a star flies out of the lava, and I collect it.

I was instantly sent to Peach’s castle, but for some reason, I was knocked out of the picture frame like Mario does when he fails a level. I noticed that the water was red, almost like blood, and Mario had a terrified expression on his face.

Right behind him, Luigi looked different—almost like a zombie, his clothes were darker, and his skeleton was visible. His clothes were torn as well. Every time I tried to find my way out, it was like the endless staircase you need to go up to defeat Bowser. but every door was locked, and the gruesome imagery of Luigi will stay on my mind until the day I die. It sounds a little dramatic and morbid, I know.

But the eerie part is that Luigi in the picture frame had 1080p graphics, and it’s pretty eerie because the game doesn’t have decent graphics since it’s on the Nintendo 64. Let's be honest here. You've seen the games like Super Smash Bros. and the others, and the quality is not very good, in my opinion. The picture of Luigi's disfigured body in the picture frame threw the low-quality graphics out the window.

I was correct; the bloodied water rose, and Mario drowned in it while performing the drowning animation; there are no more lives since it took them all, and it returned me to the intro with Mario's head.

The Aftermath

This was originally planned to be in the game. I was searching through the game files on Super Mario 64 with my computer, and here’s what I found—the file name was "Burnt Luigi.fbx" Luigi's model was the same shape as the original Luigi model, but with some textures and polygons missing; there was even a bone in his right arm.

[rubywithin]

Scrolls of Mudorius 16

I struggled to sleep that night....one of those men I remember him so clearly. Don trusted him...they travelled all over the place together but then on that day -Flashback- (Don) "UUGH....why? I thought we were frien...d.." (Abeuis Member) "Oh please I simply got close so you would not expect me to be your assassin!". (Don) "VIOLET RUN" that day still haunted me....Don gave me a life away from the group the Deadly Blades and never judged my past. -Sniffle- and then he was betrayed by his own clan because they saw his caring side as weak. When I went downstairs I saw that Kiyen was already planning, I guess this is the dedication of a captain. (Kiyen) "We are going to the Abeuis's turf of Phanzom!" (Violet) "No way...they won't meet with you. I could feel the other squad members anger at my defiance but they don't understand. "I am sorry Commander but they won't work with us on this....especially with me involved!".

(Kiyen) "Violet I sent them a letter and they have agreed to allow the pair of us entry". (Squad Member) "Commander are you sure you two can handle this alone?" he simply nodded. (Violet) "Why would they be willing to let me return?" (Kiyen) "Simple they can't afford to lose their strongest clan members and you are the only member of my squad who can analyse the attacker's methods! Plus I told them about the Disowned and you have first hand experience with a member like me!". No way...would one of the Abeuis members join those guys? (Violet) "I understand Commander but I want nothing to do with my clan especially not Gene!". He was the current leader and I know he orchestrated Don's assassination! -Flashback- (Gene) "Don't get too attached to living her thief girl, the new head is about to arrive". (Violet) "Don't be foolish Don will continue to lead our clan!" (Gene) "I have a suspicion his time in charge is about to end and you won't be around much longer!".

As we travelled past the plains all I could was remember my past, all the battles I fought. The closer we got to Phanzom the more conflicted I felt this was both a place I felt most happy and most miserable! Kiyen looked composed though he himself mentioned being a bandit....I wonder if he has had to face his demons? (Violet) "I was um wondering why you gave up your life as a bandit?" it was a long journey so I was hoping he would open up. (Kiyen) "Same reason you did the second time, Orulumi" I was not expecting that answer. "I fought her one on one despite my best efforts I lost and she told me I didn't have to waste my potential. She then invited me into the Peace Blade's and vouched for me, let's be honest it was rougher for me to join than you because I didn't have a clan name or secret technique". Hehe yeah and that didn't stop him from becoming a Commander. Not only that his own pupil is a temporary Commander and could become one full time!

It's funny how this guy who wears crimson and wields a scythe is starting to become one of my biggest inspiration's in the Peace Blade's. I felt more at ease after hearing his reason for joining the group, (Violet) "Commander Kiyen thank you. When we arrive at Phanzom I will try my best to not let you down!". He thanked me and we continued along the plains till we finally reached our destination! As we entered the town we were greeted by him....(Gene) "Welcome to Phanzom the town of many blade's". I could feel a sense of anger towards me....I know he wanted me dead that day. On the day of Don's death there was a bandit's raid, the only reason I escaped was because of other's having their homes pillaged! Back then I saw at is a calling to return to the bandits but now I feel disgusted. Yet I am sure Gene feels no mercy at all! (Gene) "Now let me show you too your rooms and I thank you for your assistance!". I felt a little paranoid but tried my best to sleep as we had to make our report tomorrow!

[innerdreamercollective]

🎧🎧 Whispersync Blitz 🎧🎧

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Blurb:

I don’t do commitment. And though I swing both ways, I don’t do men either.

It’s too messy, too stressful, and just asking for trouble.

I’d rather shine bright like the sun than drown in the rain, so I adopt a pounce-and-bounce lifestyle for which my sparkling charm keeps me from being hated.

When I show up in Sweden for a semester abroad, I expect a roomie. What I don’t expect is Lars. The storm to my sun. The test of my patience. How easy he makes it to forget all my reasons for staying away from guys.

No big deal. I’ll just pivot from pounce and bounce to roomies with benefits. I’ll get to indulge in that side of me, then leave it half a world away. What happens in Sweden stays in Sweden… until he follows me home.

Lars shows up at Westbrook looking like my little brother’s new swim bro. Just as alluring as he did before.

And all I can do is ask myself, WTF?

My resolve for an uncomplicated, stress-free life isn’t something I’m willing to give up for anyone, even if his icy-blond hair begs for my fingers and those pale-blue eyes are haunted by shadows.

I might be the sun, but I am not his sun, and it’s not my job to chase away whatever sent him running here. He swears it isn’t me. But I’m calling bullshit. Why else would he show up on my turf?

But then shit starts happening, and the shadows in his eyes turn to panic. I catch a glimpse of the bruises on his creamy, flawless skin.

I can’t keep him at arm’s length anymore. I don’t want to. Protecting him means surrendering to everything I always refused. His destruction or mine.

The choice is simple, so achingly absolute that I can’t help but wonder once more…

WTF?

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[romancereadingdiva]

WTF by Cambria Hebert

WTF won my heart! 👑👑👑👑👑 [5/5]

My heart broke for Win and Lars, and I hoped it would be put back together by the end. My heart felt for Lars, and I wanted to hold and protect him just like Win did. My heart understood why Win was afraid to love, but I loved that when he decided he was in that he was all in. Win’s love was fierce, but Lars was willing to do anything to protect Win. They were fire when they were together! They also just fit together, and they won my heart forevermore. Another wonderful book from this series and this author; I highly recommend this book and series!  

*Read through Kindle Unlimited.

▪️Blurb:

I don’t do commitment. And though I swing both ways, I don’t do men either. It’s too messy, too stressful, and just asking for trouble. I’d rather shine bright like the sun than drown in the rain, so I adopt a pounce-and-bounce lifestyle for which my sparkling charm keeps me from being hated. When I show up in Sweden for a semester abroad, I expect a roomie. What I don’t expect is Lars. The storm to my sun. The test of my patience. How easy he makes it to forget all my reasons for staying away from guys. No big deal. I’ll just pivot from pounce and bounce to roomies with benefits. I’ll get to indulge in that side of me, then leave it half a world away. What happens in Sweden stays in Sweden… until he follows me home. Lars shows up at Westbrook looking like my little brother’s new swim bro. Just as alluring as he did before. And all I can do is ask myself, WTF? My resolve for an uncomplicated, stress-free life isn’t something I’m willing to give up for anyone, even if his icy-blond hair begs for my fingers and those pale-blue eyes are haunted by shadows. I might be the sun, but I am not his sun, and it’s not my job to chase away whatever sent him running here. He swears it isn’t me. But I’m calling bullshit. Why else would he show up on my turf? But then shit starts happening, and the shadows in his eyes turn to panic. I catch a glimpse of the bruises on his creamy, flawless skin. I can’t keep him at arm’s length anymore. I don’t want to. Protecting him means surrendering to everything I always refused. His destruction or mine. The choice is simple, so achingly absolute that I can’t help but wonder once more… WTF? Please note that WTF contains stalking and domestic abuse (not between the main characters). There is also mention of (off-page) parental death. Some readers may find these things uncomfortable.

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https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123223862-wtf

[runephoenix6769]

Some of your points are correct but... A maid from the 1920/1930'S having a dalliance with a male employer was 10 a penny back then. It was not criminal, and neither of them would have ''died'' for it. What happened back then? Its a tale as old as time, the rich male employer sold her the moon and stars, possibly dangled the opportunity of being socially upwardly mobile to get what he wanted. (this happened often in stately homes.) When Ada got pregnant... it was easier for him to murder her in cold blood than take responsibility for his illegitimate child by either shotgun marriage OR shipping Ada off elsewhere and providing for her privately. OR turfing Ada out of the stately manor, therefore losing her position, and ability to provide for herself. All three options have legitimately happened in the past. Why not take the last option? He was scared how it would tarnish his reputation, and/or marriage prospects, OR it was a legit affair. that would also tarnish his reputation. He was never in any danger of being killed, but Ada was as soon as she announced she was pregnant. Ada is the one carrying most of the risk here. If she had been turfed out of her job, she would have no prospects as other houses as a rule did not take on maids who had ''brought themselves low'', they were treated with awful stigma of being an unwed mother, or wanton, or lustful or any other number of nasty aggressions society has levied on women over the centuries. Housemaids tended no to be very well educated either. She was looking at a very tough future. He never had any intention of doing right by her, hence him murdering her brutally. One of the creation myths of Banshees are; a woman is murdered by her lover, n he gets away with it. They then haunt the descendants/bloodline of the murderer who was never brought to justice. Its why they are so notoriously bad to appease further down the line as usually the murderer has already died, so justice cannot be served.

okay but like the small glimpse we get of Ada's backstory explains A Lot of her behavior actually.

because if someone were to stumble upon a man of his status with a maid, it would not only tarnish his family name, but lead to both of their deaths. So she has no choice but to blend in with the wealthy. This is why she now:

flocks to Annabel right off the bat. It shows how quick she can bond with those different than her — in status and in wealth — by 1) sugaring them up ("Just look at my pretty friend!~" / "You seem like a good leader, someone to rally behind. Like a queen!") and then 2) trying to form a connection, something to relate to ("Being that we're...sort of the same person." / "It would be best to have friends to help one another through the tough times, you know?") to hide to fact that she isn't coming from the same background as them.

(unintentionally or not, she uses this exact same technique on Lenore in episode 37 ("I really like your blazer. Maybe we could trade blazers! Just for a day" / "I wanted to matter the most to someone. To anyone") despite seeming genuine. This either implies that this is the only way she knows how to make friends, or she subconsciously views Lenore as someone of a higher status than her.)

tries to placate Montressor by fulfilling each and every one of his whims. Though he may have not been wealthy when he was alive, he holds power in Nevermore, and that marks him as someone Ada doesn't want to displease. Even when he practically demands her to bark, she does not disobey. It's also worth noting the emphasis she puts on being "loyal to the end."

attaches herself to Prospero, as he seems to come from the same background her lover does — it was never out of love for HIM, but out of how utterly devoted she was to this man. This devotion and overall situation can parallel Annabel's, with how they both have followed someone they loved above all else (someone who reminded her of him, in Ada's case) into the after life.

TLDR: the reason why Ada comes off as so whiny and stuck up at first is because she's observed this behavior from people she had to blend in with (i.e. the wealthy) to prevent both her and her lovers deaths.

[corpsebasil]

Easily Replaced | part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.

You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.

"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.

He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.

"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.

"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.

The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.

"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.

"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.

He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.

Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.

You weren’t expecting the dreams again.

You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.

You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.

Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.

When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.

"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.

"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.

You knew that voice.

That voice had haunted you for years.

"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.

It was him.

It was the man who killed Jordie.

"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."

"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.

You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.

"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"

"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.

Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.

"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"

"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—

—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.

"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."

"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."

The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.

You could do it.

Why couldn't you do it?

You could—

"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."

"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.

     He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.

     You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.

It was Pekka's fault.

It was all his—

"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.

The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.

"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.

     He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...

...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.

"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"

"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"

"Don't you dare blame me for—"

"Well if you had just left when I asked—"

"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"

"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."

     Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.

@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907

hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA

[slicesofapple]

a valentine’s surprise

             Oikawa, as often is the case, stays after practice to “work on some things.” They are university players, elite athletes, and no one’s babysitting them. Nor is there any Iwa-chan around anymore to keep Oikawa in line.

             So, as soon as the rest of the team has filed out, he grabs the ball cart and starts in on his serves.

             It’s Valentine’s day, and Oikawa is glad, also, for an excuse to hide away. He has no interest, today, in fawning fan girls and boys, the ones who throw an inexhaustible supply of chocolates and flowers at him. Gifts which are invariably accompanied by leering smiles, as well as (even worse) expectations for him to reciprocate with thanks and, more than a few have hinted, the promise of a date.

             Oikawa shakes his head in frustration. They’ve been all over him lately, pawing at him, snatching his attention, when what he really needs to be focusing on is getting his serve at both 100% power and 100% accuracy. 110% would be better, but he’d settle for the accuracy/power combo at 100% for now.

             He’s in his third year of university, and it feels like time is slipping through his fingers. He needs to have a contract before he graduates. The likelihood of getting an offer after that would be much lower, and he definitely doesn’t want to end up in that kind of limbo.

             He hasn’t lost hope, however. Interest has been expressed, and from more than one quarter. But in order to transform that interest into an actual contract, he needs that little bit more.  

             After emptying the cart of balls once, he stops to gather them up again. He’s glad for the respite. His shoulder is aching, and he knows if he doesn’t stop soon, he’ll risk an actual injury.  But he can do a few more, at least.

             He’s about halfway through the cleanup when a voice behind him calls out, “Do you want help with that?”

             Oikawa spins around, startled.

             And then freezes.

             Kageyama Tobio?  Risen from the earth, like a specter, to haunt him?

             He forces himself to bends over and continue with his task.

             “No, I don’t want help! And what are you doing here, Tobio-chan? Come to spy on me?”

             “No.”

             Oikawa looks up in time to see the tall figure detach itself from the wall. Oikawa hasn’t seen Tobio-chan in years. Yeah, he knew they would be competing against one another this year, he’d heard that Kageyama had enrolled in a neighboring university. But to see him right here, on Oikawa’s home turf…

             It’s a shock.

             It’s also something of a shock to find that the lean, lanky player who haunted his last year of high school now looks decidedly different. Even with the tracksuit on, Oikawa can see how he’s filled out, how much broader he is across the shoulders.

             He’s also moving with decided purpose as he crosses the gym, having shed the hesitancy he used to display off the court.

             “Then why are you here?” asks Oikawa, feeling slightly out of breath, and not from his recent extended workout. He stands up and straightens his own shoulders. He can face-off just fine, thank you very much! It doesn’t matter how big and burly Kageyama has become, Oikawa isn’t intimidated!

             When Kageyayma is right in front of Oikawa, he says, “To give you this.”

             “To give me what?” asks Oikawa, puzzled. Nothing has been proffered.

             Kageyama hesitates the merest fraction of a second, then lifts his hand. There is a rose in it.

             Oikawa frowns.

             When he makes no move to accept it, Kageyama reaches over, takes his hand (!), and holds it open so he can drop the rose into it. Oikawa is too surprised to stop him. Kageyama closes Oikawa’s fingers around the (luckily thornless) stem and releases his hand.

             Oikawa looks from the rose to Kageyama’s face in utter bewilderment.

             “And to ask you if you would come to dinner with me,” Kageyama continues, as if it is nothing out of the ordinary for him to drop flowers into other people’s hands and then casually ask them out.

             “What? Dinner?”

             “Yes.”

             “Are you asking me out, Tobio-chan?”

             “Yes.”

             Oikawa is thoroughly unnerved, even more so than if Kageyama had walked up and punched him in the face.

             He stares at Kageyama, who only looks evenly back at him. Wait a minute… Oikawa narrows his eyes. Yes! He can see it! The hint of a challenge in Kageyama’s gaze. He doesn’t think Oikawa will have the balls to accept!

             Oikawa’s eyes flare. If Kageyama thinks he can win in this, too, he has another thing coming!

             “Of course I’ll go to dinner with you, Tobio-chan! Don’t think you can intimidate me, just because your arms are so muscly now!’

             Kageyama brightens. “You noticed my arms?”

             “Of course I did – you’ve turned into a gorilla!”

             The insult seems to fly right over Kageyama’s head, because he’s smiling, the idiot. “Would you like to change before we leave?” he asks, as though it’s a real question. As though Oikawa is so eager to go out with this knucklehead that he’s going to run out in his sweat-soaked practice clothes, without even brushing his hair.

             Double-idiot.

             “Yes,” Oikawa says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “I would like to change.” He adds, firmly, because there’s no telling what this mystery creature before him might do if left undirected, “You wait here.”

             As he turns toward the locker room, Oikawa finds that he is humming a merry little tune under his breath. He is also twirling the rose, almost lovingly, in one hand.

             He frowns. What’s gotten into him? He’s sick of receiving flowers, right?

             Yet… for some reason, he likes this rose.

             How surprising.

             It has, in fact, been an evening full of surprises.

             Good ones, perhaps?

             Oikawa looks down at the rose once more. It’s quite a pretty little thing, really. He runs his finger across one delicate petal, so soft to the touch.

             Yes, he thinks. Very good ones.

[singing-wanderer]

Hello! Is it possible for you to do yandere Grimm?

I’m gonna go with romantic Grimm, if that’s fine! If not, just send in another ask and I’ll get right on it =]

Romantic! Yandere Grimm x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, isolation and manipulation.

So we’re gonna stick with Ghost summoning the troop, and just say that you’re a bug that’s in Dirtmouth when it happens. Be it for a short while or living there, you’re there and you’ve piqued the troupe master’s interest. He watched you wander between the edge of the town and his tent, eyes delighted once you mustered up the courage to enter. One of the only bugs that had ever done that, besides the child of God and Void. To see someone finally step in, to look him in his eyes and accept a dance, well; it was enthralling.

Of course, you might not know that he means he wants to fight you until you’re being pelted by fire, but still. Finally, someone who might actually struggle against him. Although the void creature had died a few times to his hand, it was nothing compared to this. You had something to lose. You had a life to lose. And as much as he was tempted to whisk that flame away and create a nightmare of it, he saw to it you had mercy. The being watched your chest heave with exertion, a meager attempt to catch lost breath. A chuckle shook his chest, almost seem to purr as he closed the distance between the two of you. You could feel the hot air leaving his mouth, ghosting over your mask and shaking you to the core. Though your stance reminded solid, you were fearful. Fearful but determined. Oh, he was intrigued.

“My dear, I know I’ve shocked you with our…dance, but I do hope you return. I haven’t had a waltz like that in quite a long time. My tent shall always remain open to you, as my bedroom.” With a wink, the bat spun and vanished in fire. By Wyrm, what was it with that circus freak and fire? Was it a fetish or?? Shushing your mind, you rushed out and collapsed on the dirt a good distance from the haunted fuckery that was in that tent. Your muscles ached from the fight, and you had to admit: you felt the same. It had been a bit since you had been holed up in Dirtmouth, contemplating venturing down despite the old man’s warnings. There was an entire kingdom down there awaiting you, you just had to go! Everyday you refused yourself, your hand would flinch with the craving of violence or entertainment. Not much passed through this town excluding the dusty wind. (Maybe that’s where the towns name came from?)

A day or two after your fight, Elder Bug stopped coming out of his house. This had actually brought you some worry. Sure he was the only thing keeping you from going down but he still was sweet. Kindest person you had met honestly. Then the letters and dreams- no nightmares- had started. Deep red and flashing pink envelopes would slip into your home, the contents being truly disturbing. Tales of how Grimm had dreamed of you, how he had imagine your life together, and what he was willing to do to make it work. It was terrifying to read, the detailed descriptions he had given of the ways he’d torment all your friends until they’d leave you. Until they’d leave you with him. And how he’d take such good care of you, you’d never be lonely with him around because he’d never leave you alone. You tempted to burn them only to find they turned the fire pink before fading. Almost like a beacon to show him where your home was, despite you knowing deep down that info was already too familiar to him.

It felt like there was no other choice, that this was the only way. Stepping into that dreaded tent again, you felt your spine tingle with anxiety and your stomach weigh heavy in your own body. You almost felt like throwing up. Brumm nodded in solemn greeting, seemingly knowing the situation. Had Grimm done this to others? Had some other bug lived through the hell you’re going through? Knowing this a possibility, it made your blood feel electric. If someone else got through this so could you. “My dear, you’ve returned! How I’ve missed you. I’m assuming you received my letters? All written with love.” His pink eyes squinted towards the end, you could feel his smirk from this side of the room. Fucking theater kid. Of course he was cocky, these were his stomping grounds. It was uneven turf you were playing. The bat already had a fighting advantage, why not give him background knowledge of the terrain too? Even though you were pissed, your vision remained clear enough to notice there was no crowd this time. The stage lights shone onto empty seats, but you felt watched. Even the spirits have it out for you, hm.

“Are you worried by the lack of audience? Not to worry, it’s nothing about your performance. You performed more than exemplary, my love. As a matter of fact, too exemplary. I couldn’t let just any common filth watch you.” Annoyance ate at your nerves and clenched them. If he viewed his own people as common filth, then what the hell did he think of you? Some mystical being or average bug? The troupe leader probably thought of you as entertainment. That sums it perfectly up. The obsession with performance, with dancing. That had to be it. Well, if he wanted a show, he’d get one. You’d been in contact recently with some obsessive charm keeper, collected a couple of nasty things to use against him. Not to mention the recent refining of your skills. There was a pattern with his attacks, something that became obvious after examination. All of them were theatrical and were either dependent on horribly tracking your movement or just hoping to hit you. Weak once discovered, deadly if you fight mindlessly.

This dance went a little more smoothly, a little more feisty. Watching him suffer, after what he put you through, made you feel exhilarated. The edges of his now tattered cloak traced the ground, and he appeared weakened. Despite this however, that same damned smile came rushing back up. Your arms hung loosely by your side; tired. You were so tired. “Wonderful, wonderful! The way my blood rushes…not even the most frightful of nightmares compares to this!” Darkness grazed the corners of your eyes, so inviting. Maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with him after this. Maybe you’d wake up and he’d be gone, and you’d be alone again. “Oh? Resting so early are we? I mind not, I’ll take good care of you,” His voice lowered, “rest easy. I’ll be awaiting you in your dreams.”

Oddly enough, you slept great. Not even a vision or hint at that demonic presence of Grimm. Just memories of your home, places of peace. That lake you had visited, that shop with rain pelting the windows endlessly. It almost pained you to wake up, atop soft, red velvet pillows. You groaned, eyes blearily blinking and trying to shut again. But your mind screamed at you to get up, as your environment was completely different. Coaxing your upper half up you cased the room. This has got to be some sort of sick joke. That same demented red, that accursed flame, the Grimm Troupe Leader hanging from the ceiling and watching you. You stared back, finally realizing why he was so desperate for a second dance.

It was a trap. An endurance test. The freak probably wasn’t even hurt towards the end, not once did he truly stagger. He was wearing you down, waiting until you couldn’t feel your limbs from exhaustion and then pushing you further. A hand traced your face, thumb brushing across it.

“You’re finally home. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you, watching how you move. To see you in the motions of life is the most moving gift of all.”

[saiakv]

Both of them had heard bits about that name, after his visit to the compound where the monkeys were stalled. Nanako still remembers the concerned that sat on Manami's flawless face ( crinkling her concealer, no doubt ) when Geto-sama pulled her aside to talk in the hallway, where he'd thought they'd be out of the girls' earshot. He kept gesturing a lot while they spoke, his palm constantly held up flat as though to stop his secretary's objections before her thin brows furrowed; 'I'll handle it', Mimiko had read his lips reiterating it. Why had Manami been so worried if that 'Satoru Gojo' had left their turf already?

Mimiko, albeit allegedly the more quiet counterpart to her outspoken sister, had tugged on her skirt that day with an observation; that even though Nanako had spent her morning carefully tucking each strand into the trademark half updo, Geto-sama had his hair loose and ruffled.

From that day on, the girls would catch him hovering on the porch with the phone in one hand and the kiseru in the other; cook with it wedged between shoulder and ear, bite a smile over its screen while some follower bothered him in the hallway. Subtle, duly noted things that flew over both their heads at the time; the only protest had come when he'd started sleeping elsewhere, but eventually, the girls got used to that too. Geto-sama always came back, after all, always picked up his phone, even though he kept his voice hushed when he was out. And he seemed to smile more, to be in a better mood, even around irksome followers. Then he announced that he wouldn't be home for Christma's Eve; and by that point the twins concluded the obvious — he had found a girlfriend.

They had quieted down shortly after piecing that part together. Eventually, Nanako even begun to think she may like to meet that woman one day, make friends with her — go out for girl's nights with Manami and Geto-sama's girlfriend after taking three hours to get ready, like in the American movies. She'd thought the time would come, at some point, even started asking about that mysterious figure that kept spamming his phone while they were having dinner. And, of course, Geto-sama always found a way to evade direct answers.

'What does your girlfriend look like?' ' Mm... probably, a cat. ' He laughed. ' Yes, a cat. A big white fluffy one that likes to lounge about, like Wasabi.'

As they both sat on their knees atop the cool bathroom floor, atching Satoru Gojo hold him now, the bits and pieces of those scattered references suddenly begun to connect and shape the reality of what had been going on behind their backs. The familiarity with which he unveiled each limb from the garments spoke of intimacy; the complete lack of reaction from the half-conscious curse user at his mercy even more so. That suspicious man's energy was bright and all-encompassing, reminding the twins of white neon lamps with the soft buzz his technique filled the space with. But Geto-sama was only humming contently under that white noise, seemingly lost in some dream that had his fingers twitching.

❛ Did— did Geto-sama eat that? ❜

❛ It sounds dangerous. ❜ An even-toned mumble from Mimiko's way.

Nanako's eye twitched over the crouched man as her thoughts centered back on the scene unfolding before her, a look of shock betraying her revelation. Mimiko was not quite as reactive, hovering over the two with a haunting deadpan, instead. Following her sister's cue, her eyes trailed to the stranger in tandem and her mouth twitched as though she telepathetically came to the same conclusion as Nanako had before. Her sister affirmed it with a nod towards him. This was the girlfriend.

As Satoru Gojo worked to dry and change their patron into warm, dry robes, Nanako's expression momentarily contorted with that dissilusionment. But she mellowed again upon the image of her benefactor looking comfortably asleep. Though, it was clear that there was something off. The curse the strongest sorcerer mentioned...wouldn't it have left residuals if its after effects were still present? Geto-sama had never fallen ill from ingesting spirits before, but this time he looked physically ill. As Mimiko bent over beside their guest and brushed some sticky wet hair away from his features, the man let out a soft hum.

❛ He's very warm. Please let us give you a dry change of clothing as well, Gojo-san. ❜

❛ Ah, Mimiko. ❜ Comes the immediate protest — Nanako drags her sister aside to whisper yell that they don't know what part this man played in this whole ordeal yet, but Mimiko is just as quick to respond with a softly commanding; ❛ We need a way to carry him to bed. ❜

Some time later the two had brought an extra towel, as well as a change of robes from Suguru's own closet — there was tea brewing in the kitchen and rice in the cooker. And somewhere along the times that the twins went back and forth from kitchen to bedroom to bathroom ( never quite allowing the turmoiled duo some much needed privacy ) thick lashes finally flickered open and Suguru begun to shift and let out a groggy groan before stirring awake and rolling out of bed to head to the bathroom on his own. There was an urgency in the way he ignored any offers for help and locked the door behind him, only for a chaotic arrangement of ungodly noises and repeated flushing to follow.

[finiteuniverse13]

home is people, not a place 1/?

A/N: This has been published on AO3, but I was inspired to put these on here!

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Clay Spencer is rarely off his guard. It’s a hazard to himself and the people around him if he’s not alert. But being on guard all the time is exhausting. That’s why he had his eyes closed in the cage room, cage door ajar and his head leant against his locker. He’d just got back from being spun out with Bravo, a weeklong mission that had meant he’d had to stay awake in 20-hour stints, constantly watching a target house for a man who’d only arrived on the sixth day they’d been there. He’d been in the cage room for around an hour, about 15 minutes after Trent had finished sorting his supplies and gone home, a grumbled order to follow in his footsteps as Trent leaves, looking as bad as Clay did. There was a good chance that Bravo team would sleep for about 25 straight hours.

That’s why – he’d reason to himself in the following months – he hadn’t looked up when the door opened. Why he hadn’t greeted them, because it could be Bravo, Blackburn, Davis, their support team, all have access to the room. His cage is unlocked (why would it be locked? He's on base, home turf, in a restricted access building), so they get the drop on him. The four of them, green team rookies who probably haven’t even met a Tier One operator before, walk in quietly. Clay doesn’t look up, doesn’t question them. He doesn’t see their faces, their names, or the bat that one of them holds. He has his back turned to them, slowly squaring away his bag with the air of someone who needed downtime. He doesn’t see the bat coming, doesn’t have the time to shout out in pain before he’s on the floor.

They drag him into the threshold of his cage, and one of them puts a foot on his chest – right above his pounding heart, ready to burst out of his chest from the adrenaline beginning to pour into him – and two more pairs of hands come down to restrain his arms. His legs kick out uselessly, between the foot pressing down – ow ow ow ow – on his chest and the hands digging into the flesh of his arm, he can’t fight them off. He can only watch through blurry vision, struggling and restrained, as the wooden bat descends onto his chest, right on one of his ribs. The pained groan that echoes out makes one of them laugh and Clay knows that the laugh is going to haunt his dreams.

Clay’s eyesight blacks out and his consciousness leaves him, taking him to a place where he can’t feel his nose break, or the bruises forming on his exhausted body.

-

Eric Blackburn knows he is only slightly better off than his team, not that he knows the state of his rookie – of course. Blackburn leaves his debrief, having reported Bravo’s AARs and answered questions until he was dismissed. He can practically feel his bed – and his wife – calling him home. As he leaves the office, he decides to check the cage room. Bravo had looked, for lack of a better word, dead on their feet; and he wouldn’t put it past any of his idiots operators to either curl into a ball on the cage floor or hang a hammock so they could sleep at the base. They were going to give him grey hairs, the lot of them.

He pushes the wooden door open and walks in, blearily looking through the darkness over to the cages, trying to see if there are any hammocks hanging. When he sees none, he rubs at his sore eyes and lets his tired gaze fall to the floor. His eye catches on a shiny patch on the floor, and he fumbles for the light switch on the wall for a few seconds before he manages to find it, figuring that he’d at most need to call for someone to clear whatever Clay had spilt in front of his-

Oh god. Oh god. No no no no no no. Bravo Six lies on the floor of his cage. His head and shoulders both lie past the threshold. His head lies in a puddle of blood, with his face turned away from Eric.

It’s 2am, and god knows when this happened. Any way that Eric mentally spins this, there’s no good outcome. Something happened to Clay while the team wasn’t there. Eric runs the mere feet to where Clay is facing, and what greets him is, put simply, pain. Blood dribbles out of a very broken nose, and a forming bruise spans most of Clay’s jaw, and that’s just what Eric can see. He’s certain that there’s more beneath Clay’s shirt. He falls to his knees in front of Clay’s slack face, his knees breaking the surface tension of the puddle of blood, and he doesn’t pay it any mind, even as it stains his trousers. His hands find their way to Clay’s face, and a tiny bit of tension leeches from his body when he finds the skin warm.

“Clay? Clay! Bravo Six!” His voice increases steadily in volume, as Clay doesn’t show any sign of responding or so much as registering that his commanding officer is trying to wake up please god Clay wake up get his attention. Eric pulls out his phone, thanking something above that he’d remembered to pick it up as he left Bravo’s briefing room. He dials 911 and he ignores the blood staining his fingertips, and his screen, and his trousers, and his skin, and the floor and and and, giving the operator who answers him all the information that he can think of – rattling off his service number and Clay’s, telling the man that he was on a military base, that they needed an ambulance, that Clay had a concussion, that he had already bled a lot. The operator told him that the ambulance would arrive in about 10 minutes. Eric hung up the phone without thinking too much about it.

Alpha Five, a middle eastern man named Jordan Frazier, walks past the open door, and double-takes in a way that Eric would have found comical if not for the fact that he’s kneeling in a puddle of his rookie’s blood. Eric’s eyes bore into Frazier and he barks out an order – praying that Alpha’s operators responded better to the chain of command then his own team did.

“Go to the entrance and direct the ambulance.”. Frazier gets halfway through a salute before processing that there were more important matters at hand then paying due respect to Eric. Eric’s gaze looks back down to Clay, to his unmoving, unflinching face. Eric’s hand moves down to Clay’s jugular, feeling Clay’s heartbeat. Even though it is weaker than Eric would like, Eric hangs to the feeling, to the knowledge that his annoying as hell brother, son, nephew mix that he wouldn't replace if you held a gun to his head operator is still alive.

“Bravo Six! Blondie! Sunshine!” He tries the nicknames that he’s overheard Bravo calling him, praying that something will get Clay to wake up.

Time passes in a paradox, both slow and fast, as Eric continues trying to rouse Clay. He looks up when he hears a noise in the doorframe, and tension bleeds from his body when a paramedic bursts through the door, a gurney trailing him. Frazier helps the other paramedic get the gurney through the door, and he’s followed in by Alpha Two.

The paramedics assess that Clay is okay for transport and that their biggest concern is his headwound. Eric is instructed to hold gauze against the back of Clay’s head, where the bleeding is concentrated and he doesn’t think about how the blood, Clay’s blood, there’s so much blood, on his hands stains the outside of the gauze. When the paramedics get him atop a backboard, it’s all Eric can do to keep the pressure on the wound as Derek, Jordan and the two paramedics all lift the board onto the gurney.

Derek and Jordan step away, letting the trio start making their way towards the base’s entrance where the ambulance is parked. A silent communication passes between them, and they storm out in sync, looking for the rest of Alpha. Someone did this to Bravo’s rookie. Clay may be Bravo’s rookie, but he was Tier One’s kid. They've all seen him work, all given him pointers, all taken and given advice. They've seen Bravo take the kid - and he is a kid, the youngest Tier One operator in history - under their wing, and that means that Tier One took him under his wing. Thanks to Clay’s knowledge of languages, there wasn’t a Tier One team who hadn’t utilised the kid’s skills. Some punks on base had hurt their kid. A fellow sailor had hurt their kid.

As they’ve gathered Alpha, they run across Delta, who have finished a couple of late-night rounds in the shootout house. Delta One, a formidable man named Tyler Jaramillo, or TJ, takes one look at the stormy faces of Alpha and draws some speedy assumptions.

“Clay?” Behind TJ, Delta perks up, looking away from where they’re ribbing each other.

“Somebody attacked him in the Bravo cages.” Full Metal isn’t one to beat around the bush, especially when their kid is involved. Delta matches Alpha, anger burning and knuckles whitening. The cages are sacred, a place where sailors can decompress in a place that is solely their own. And someone had gone into that room, had attacked one of their own, had hurt him so bad that his commanding officer had needed to call him an ambulance.

“We need to find who did it.” This is a given, but it gives the teams something to focus on. Alpha and Delta both splinter off in their operating pairs, with the intention of finding somebody who had blood on their uniform.

Alpha and Delta’s 2ICs pair up to make their way over to the security room where the cameras are. While the room is unmanned – it’s a base full of sailors trained by millions of taxpayer dollars, why do they need an on-duty security guard – they know how to access the footage. TJ and Metal stay behind to inform Bravo of the situation, on the off chance that Blackburn hadn’t called Jason yet.

Metal makes the call to Jason, and Jason picks up the phone with a tone of irritation, and Metal can hear Jason picking up his car keys before Metal even gets the chance to start speaking. Jason cuts of whatever Metal was about to say – “I know about Clay, I’m going to the hospital right now, and I’m about to call the rest of Bravo.” The dial tone rings out before Metal can get a word in edgeways, not that he needed to anyway.

TJ pulls his phone out of his back pocket, shooting a text to the group chat that has the Tier One Master Chiefs and 2ICs in it. Spenser was attacked in the Bravo cages. Delta and Alpha on base. Finding who did it.

Metal’s phone buzzes from where he’s putting it in his pocket, but since he watched TJ send the message, he doesn’t bother checking it. They make their way over to their 2ICs in the hope that they’ve found who hurt their rookie.

Sped-up footage of the hallway shows four Green Team trainees entering the room, leaving 10 minutes later, and then Blackburn checking in about 5 minutes after they’d left. The footage is stopped as Jordan entered the frame, a still of his confused face. Derek rewinds it back to the trainees entering the room and manages to get three non-blurred pictures of the trainees, the other one is looking down at the bat he is holding, meaning that they can’t get a good angle of it. TJ and Metal take pictures of the three they manage to get, sending it to their respective groups in the hopes that the images will help to flush out the fourth.

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 7 -- Black Hearts

Word Count: 15131

READ ON AO3

For many, the Ghost Zone landscape would be chilling, at best, and nightmare-inducing, at worst. Unlike Earth and its well-defined limits, both natural and manmade, the Infinite Realms consisted of an infinite abyss of floating ectoplasmーif you travelled, you knew where your journey would start, but not where it ended. Most people didn’t even know when it ended, either. 

Only a few experienced visitors were knowledgeable enough to recognise each and every one of its landmarks to guide them. Fortunately for Danny, he was one such experienced visitor. As well as an inhabitant. 

Maybe he didn’t know the Ghost Zone like the palm of his invisible hand, like Sojourn had in his day, but seven years of travelling back and forth between dimensions had certainly outlined a pretty accurate map of the dimension in his mind’s eye. That, and the fact that the Far Frozen trusted him with the Infi-Map now and then also helped. 

But even he had to admit, crossing over to the other side during his first few months as halfa had been terrifying. His past self would never have been able to believe he’d one day be flying around what was on the other side of his parents’ portal like he walked down the halls of Casper High every day of the week for four years. 

Indeed. Getting to see the Ghost Zone for the first time had been even more mind-boggling than getting used to suddenly being able to walk through the walls, disappear, and fly. Compared to Amity Park, his kingdomーhe didn’t think he’d ever get used to calling it thatーwas a haunted house, sponsored by Bill Gates and provided with cutting edge animatronic and holographic technology, and open all year long. 

Well, it would have been sponsored by Bill Gates if it weren’t for Vlad overshadowing him and selling the company to himself years ago. 

Considering he’d rather die (twice) than buy anything belonging to VladCo, Danny found himself being very glad the Ghost Zone was no haunted house, after all. 

Now, however, he’d learned to appreciate the Infinite Realms for what they were; unpredictably beautiful. The once creepy light coming from the floating ectoplasm now reminded him of the groovy vibes one got from a lava lamp. Both substances were, in fact, pretty similar! Since ghosts created their own lairs, he didn’t have to worry over solving any sort of problem related to lack of affordable housing; unlike what he’d have to do had he been, say, mayor of Amity Park? President of the United States? And the repair damages were minimum! Ghosts didn’t usually throw rocks at their own roofs, so battles inside the Ghost Zone were rare. 

Of course, that last one thing was a bit of a double-edged sword. Because it meant that while he didn’t have to worry about the possible destruction of the Ghost Zone, it also meant his subjects usually blew off steam in Amity Park...which then came to bite him in the ass in the form of a very angry mob of ghost-hating citizens.

The joys of living in two parallel dimensions at the same time…

Shaking those thoughts away, Danny refocused his attention on the current task at hand; patrolling the Zone in case anybody chose to ignore his orders and go against the witches during their next visit. 

He’d be lying if he said nobody had warned him of the reaction his plan would most likely get from his subjects, both Frostbite and Clockwork let him know several times, long before he even sent the letter to Lady Arcana. Well, in all fairness, Frostbite had warned him; Clockwork just kept smirking at him with those all-knowing, secretive, red eyes of his. The only real warning he’d got from him was when he asked for his opinion on what’d happen and the Ghost of Time limited himself to raising his eyebrow at him with a, “What do you think?”

When he wanted to be, Clockwork was an invaluable ally and a great mentor. But that was only when he wanted to be, mind you. The rest of the time his smug crypticness was enough to make Danny want to throw himself off of a cliff.

But they’d both been right when they told him his subjects would not react kindly to the presence of witches in their realm. Who would’ve known phantom tomatoes acted just like the Fenton Foamer? If it didn’t put him in immediate danger, he would bring some home for his parents. 

In the end, the only way to convince them to let the witches in was to ensure a powerful ghost would keep an eye on them at all times. Skulker would escort them to his lair, and from then on he’d be watching them himself. 

Even if the spirits had eventually given in to his request, Danny knew better. He’d be a fool to think his advice would be heeded by every single inhabitant of the Ghost Zone. He had far too many enemies for that. 

While most of his adversaries had turned into more of friendly rivals than outright enemies over the years, being capable of having civilised conversations with him whenever they weren’t trying to waste him or enslave Amity Park, there were many others who refused to bow down before a halfa. Ever since Pariah Dark was defeated the first time, ghosts had got used to living in anarchy, being able to do whatever they wanted as long as they were smart enough to not invade a more powerful ghost’s turf. So following some random half-ghost’s orders after centuries of chaos and freedom was out of the question for them. 

On the one hand, many of Danny’s detractors were actually as delusional as the Box Ghost. More often than not, he’d be battling rogue spirits with barely formed physical bodies who were in way over their heads. Normally a few ecto-rays, some quick banter, and a little bit of Fenton Thermos was enough to take care of them. 

But, on the other hand, the few more powerful ghosts who weren’t members of his usual rogue gallery truly sought to dethrone him. If they eliminated him in the process, even better! 

Obviously, the most notorious member of this group was none other than Plasmius. The older halfa had orchestrated Pariah’s return with the intention of defeating him and becoming the next Ghost King himself, after all. And for what? To have his teenage, much less experienced archnemesis steal the crown right under his nose. 

Danny had to admit, if it weren’t for the high price to pay that came with the honour wearing the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire (an ‘honour’ he didn’t even want to have in the first place), he would’ve enjoyed screwing over with the fruitloop like that.

Ever since he became Ghost King, Vlad’s plans had been few and in between. Maybe a few attempts at making his life a living Hell, some shudder-worthy upgrades on his Maddie Programーhe swore, if he had to listen to a hologram of his mother call that demented creep ‘lambchop’ one more time, first, he was going to barf, second, he’d see red, or in his case, greenー, perhaps a few ill-conceived attempts at getting him to join him…

Despite Vlad’s inactivity, however, Danny knew better than to think he was just getting sloppy. Knowing Plasmius and his love for playing chessmaster, he was patiently biding his time. Sooner or later, he’d hear from him, and it wouldn’t be good. 

Still, even if he was his greatest enemy in terms of personal interactions, Vlad wasn’t his most menacing foe in terms of sheer danger. 

Spectra and Bertrand also wanted him gone, due to seeing his intervention as interference with their misery-sucking plans. Indeed, since he became Ghost King Danny was extra careful with who left the Ghost Zone and who was absolutely forbidden from even looking at a portal twice.

For example, knowing Kitty, she’d just want to go out on a date with Johnny, and, on paper, there was nothing wrong with that. Trouble came when Johnny ogled and hit on other girls with his girlfriendーrightーbesideーhim! Honestly, if he were Kitty, he’d pummel Johnny, too. Especially because his actions more often than not resulted in a jealous ghost girl causing mayhem.

The most useful life lesson he’d learned while going through puberty was also one of the firsts: girls were scary. And that seemed to apply to all girls regardless of their species; humans, ghosts, witches, gorillas…

Spectra was no exception. Due to her need for misery to keep herself young and powerful, the shadowy ghost needed to learn how to get under her victims’ skin to exploit their weakness to the point of making them miserable enough to harvest. And, Danny knew from experience, that was far more frightening than any other ghostly power Spectra could ever possess. 

She saw beyond people’s masks, no matter how carefully crafted they were, and got inside your head. Not only did she know your biggest fears and insecurities, but how to exploit them and make them all come true. She forced you to live your worst nightmares over and over, almost as if she were Nocturne's far more malevolent accomplice, reaping your fears like a farmer would reap wheat. 

Spectra threw those insecurities in your face, reminding you that you weren’t good enough, explaining to you why you weren’t good enough, and assuring you would never be good enough; all in that sadistic, cheery tone of voice of hers. Just thinking about it was enough to send chills down his spine.

But what was truly the most daunting thing about Spectra was that, for years, she’d been feeding off of some poor kid’s low self-esteem and personal issues under the pretext of being a psychologist. Her office back in Casper High before he found out the truth and defeated her was full of pictures of her and sickly-looking kids; her previous victims. Dozens of kids who were completely at her mercy because she’d spent years roaming freely around Earth, blending in, long before he was even born, let alone had the accident. Dozens of kids who’d surely been as deeply traumatised as he’d been. Or, even worse, dozens of kids Spectra managed to push over the edge, under the guise of helping them. 

That psychotic old hag and her lap dog had a special place in his black list just for their mere potential of becoming a threat, let alone when they truly were threatening. As a result, one of the things he wasted no time in as soon as he became Ghost King was to ensure they wouldn’t be going back to Earth in a very long time. 

Needless to say, his interference with their ‘feasts’ was enough to have them declare war on him. Well, let them come. He’d be waiting for them.

Another ghost who tended to give him quite a headache whenever he felt like taking his turn at challenging him was the Fright Knight. Back in their first encounter, his first Halloween after gaining his powers, Danny believed he was a formidable foe. Incredibly powerful and hellbent on turning the world into his nightmarish kingdom, the Fright Knight used to be one of his most dangerous adversaries. 

Key word being ‘used to.’ Well, that was two words, but whatever. 

In their next encounter, which, coincidentally, also happened to be when Pariah Dark was released (thanks again, Vlad), the almighty, terrifying, ‘flaming sheets of doom’ Fright Knight had been relegated to errand boy. 

As Danny would soon come to realise, the Ancient Spirit of Halloween was proud, but tremendously cowardly.  

If he believed himself superior to his opponent, he would show no  mercy. But the moment he was one-upped by someone else in terms of power, he’d cower and bow down in submission. Which made their personal relationship with each other all the more interesting. 

In terms of power, Danny knew, maybe a little too smugly, that he had the upper hand. Whereas in their first battle he managed to defeat the Fright Knight just barely, years of ghost-fighting, of developing new powers, and of being in possession of the ring and crown (which he still refused to use unless it was absolutely necessary), had shaped him into a formidable fighter. 

And the Fright Knight knew that, which was why he often avoided conflict with him. 

In terms of respect, however, due to Danny being extremely young compared to other powerful ghosts, the way he ascended the throne and, to add insult to injury, the fact he was half-human, the medieval-like spirit refused to accept him as his ruler. Hence, his rare attempts at taking him down. 

All in all, even if the Fright Knight quite wasn’t the same threat he once was, Danny knew he still should watch out for him. Because for all his self-importance, the Halloween Spirit really was undergod material, and that meant whoever employed him would be much worse than him…

Like Vlad.

Other than Plasmius, Spectra, Bertrand, and the Fright Knight, the other ghosts who challenged his rule were the god-like ones; Undergrowth, Nocturne, Vortex… But they usually kept true to their goals of world domination so it wasn’t much of an issue, in a way. 

While he hadn’t had an encounter with any of his old nemesis for a while, it was all a matter of time before they chose to use his tentative alliance with the witches against him. Which brought him to his current patrol. As he oversaw the vast infinity of the Ghost Zone, steering away from Ghost Writer’s manorーanother lovely fella who didn’t quite like  him, even if he surely wouldn’t try to usurp the throneー, Danny used his vantage point to make sure no suspicious activity was going on. 

Just as he was about to call it a night, his eyes caught sight of three familiar silhouettes standing on top of a drifting chunk of rock not far away from him. Furrowing his eyes in suspicion, he sped up to catch up with them. In a matter of seconds, he’d flown across the distance separating him from his target until he was floating above the unimpressed expressions belonging to Ember McLain, Johnny 13, and Kitty. 

The three of them seemed to be loitering around on top of the aforementioned drifting chunk of rock, looking bored and completely uninterested in anything around them. They almost looked like a bunch of teenagers just hanging out. Kitty was seated, cross-legged, on top of the bike seat, her elbows propped on her knees and her hands cupping her face. Beside her, Johnny was leaning against his bike, arms crossed. A few feet away from them, sitting on a rock with one leg crossed on her other knee, Ember was mindlessly tuning her guitar. That wasn’t suspicious at all...

Over the years, some of his most recurring opponents decided to upgrade their look, like Technusーthe guy was more fashion-oriented than Paulina Sanchez from high schoolー, while others remained mostly the same but with a few added upgrades to their modus operandi, such as Skulker. 

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, depending on how you looked at it, the hunter’s girlfriendーhe had to physically stop his gag reflex from acting up whenever he so much as thought of those two as a coupleーchose to remain true to her signature look. The same flaming, blue ponytail; the same tight, asymmetrical, black outfit; the same haunting green eyes and exaggerated make-up that contrasted greatly with her deathly pale skin… 

All in all, Ember was pretty much the same. Still loud, still vying for attention, still obsessed with leading teenage rebellion through music...And she still had the same awful taste in boyfriends. Although, he supposed, in a way Skulker wasn’t as bad a catch as her best friend’s beau. 

Kitty did change her outfit, albeit slightly. Though she still favored her signature combination of black and red with just a touch of green, she’d abandoned her classical red miniskirt and fishnet stockings for a pair of skin-tight, red leather jeans.  Instead of her mid calf boots, she currently wore a pair of black, ankle boots. She still wore a black tank top, too, only this time it was much looserーjust like she also had the same green pendant. As for her unruly, green hair...she chose to wear it up in two twin buns, fittingly shaped after cat ears, each on either side of her head; with two loose strands framing her face. A pair of fingerless, black biker gloves completed the ensemble.

Everything about her screamed ‘biker chick’, the only thing missing was her own bike.

Maybe, tired of Johnny blowing her off, she’d decided to show him she was as much of a biker as he was, if not more. Or, maybe, she opted to dress that way precisely to remind her boyfriend and everybody else just who was Johnny’s girlfriend. 

Honestly, the girl was sweet (sometimes), but she was a mystery. For all the complaining she did about Johnny, that certainly didn’t stop her from getting a 13 ーhis unlucky numberーtattooed on her right arm.  Danny just wondered if Johnny had a kitten or anything even remotely resembling one tattooed anywhere on his own body. 

...on second thought, he’d rather not think about it.

Johnny himself had changed a little, too, although nowhere near as much or as drastically as his girlfriend. To be honest, he looked exactly the same as always, except for his blond hair now being long enough to be tied in a low ponytailーKitty was right; it was greasyーand foregoing his trademark jacket, opting for just wearing his white undershirt and fingerless gloves, instead. But now that Danny thought about it, didn’t he use to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt, too? Whatever, back in the day  it was hard to tell with his jacket anyway. Other than that, he was the same Johnny 13 who once tried to trick Jazz into becoming a vessel for his girlfriend. 

Suspicion spiking up, Danny floated over towards them, still keeping a respectful distance in case Ember felt like playing a killer riff for his ears only. “What’re you three up to?” He didn’t feel like beating around the bush.

Their heads shooting up at the sound of his voice, the three ghosts looked surprised for less than a second, before adopting the same bored masks again. Though, to be honest, only the girls appeared bored with his presence, Johnny, on the other hand, looked annoyed, his eyes narrowing in distaste on him.

“What do you want, kid?” He spat. 

Danny had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Again with the ‘kid’ treatment. It was always the ‘kid’ treatment. Never mind that he’d been a legal adult for three years now. “I asked you first, Johnny. But since you’re asking so kindly,” he deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. He really didn’t have patience for this anymore, “I’ll repeat myself; what are you three up to?” He repeated, this time sounding more serious. 

The biker ghost answered by letting out a puff of air, vexed. “What, now we can’t even chill in our own home? Are you going to give us a ticket for loitering or something?” He challenged, slowly making his way over to the halfa, trying to appear intimidating. 

He walked calmly, almost calculatingly so, with his face morphed into a wicked grin, one that promised trouble. Once he was close enough to look Phantom in the eye, the two entered a silent staring contest, the tension between them flickering up. Even if the Ghost Kid looked much calmer than Johnny felt, he wouldn’t back down. “Your precious thermos won’t be of any help now.”

Side-glancing their testosterone levels rising from where she was, Kitty let out a huff. Hopping from the biker seat, she squeezed herself in between the two and separated them, both of her hands planted firmly on their chest. “Will you quit it, you two? Nobody’s buying this faux animosity you have going on.”

Knowing they’d been busted, the two jokingly moaned in disappointment, before sharing knowing glances and breaking down laughing. And all the biker girl could do in response was roll her eyes and shake her head, letting her face fall in her hand in exasperation while her boyfriend grabbed Danny by his shoulders and pulled him down, ruffling his snow-white hair with his knuckles. Really, the only difference between grown ass men and children was the size. 

“Careful, dipstick. That techno geek of yours is going to get jealous if you keep flirting with others behind his back.” Ember said, watching everything from her rock with a smirk on her face. 

“FYI, Tucker and I have an open relationship.” The half-ghost wasn’t above blowing a raspberry at her, making her roll her eyes in irritation. He also couldn’t prevent the snickers from escaping his throat at the sight of Kitty painfully elbowing Johnny on the side when he suggested if they could have an open relationship, too.

“With the way you’re constantly hitting on other girls, one’d think we’re already in one.” She pointed out hotly, her fist on her hips. “Besides, we both know you wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing me with other guys.” 

“I can attest to that.” Danny added, remembering not-so-fondly the days he wistfully thought he was dating Paulina when, in truth, he was in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Johnny just rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to play innocent. 

“But now seriously, what are you guys doing?”

“You know, it really is offensive that you see us doing absolutely nothing and your first instinct is to think there’s something going on.” The biker crossed his arms over his chest, displeased. 

“Oh, ignore him.” Kitty told him, putting her hand over the halfa’s shoulder. Even if it’d all been a scheme to make Johnny jealous, Kitty had sort of developed a soft spot for him. As long as he didn’t get in her way, she was one of the less antagonistic ghosts. Danny, in return, often let her and Johnny ‘sightsee’ around Amity Park, as long as they kept themselves out of trouble. “Though we really are doing nothing. Is there a reason why you’d think otherwise, Danny?”

Before the green-eyed boy could come up with a good excuse, Ember’s mocking voice beat him to it. “Oh, please, Kitkat! You should know better than that; he’s obviously got his whities in a twist because of those three harpies that so generously grace us with their presence.” She said in a fake, sugary-sweet voice. Sliding her guitar over her shoulders, the popstar got up from her seat and walked over to the other three. “By the way, shouldn’t they be gone soon? ‘Cause I’d really rather they don’t become regular visitors.”

At the mention of the witches, the easy-going atmosphere immediately tensed up. Just like Ember, Johnny and Kitty were now looking at him, expectantly. It was obvious no ghost appreciated their presence in their dimension. Coughing uncomfortable, Danny rubbed the back of his neck. How did he put this in a way they’d understand? And, most importantly, that wouldn’t encourage them to kill him? “Let’s just say...there’s no expiration date for this.”

“What?!” Growling, Ember’s ponytail flared up, a clear indicator that she wasn’t taking the news well. “What the Hell does that mean, dipstick?”

“Yeah, man! Don’t you know what those rune-reading bitches did the last time we let them near us? What do you mean you don’t know when this’ll be over?!” Johnny demanded, summoning a spectral chain out of thin air. Beside him, Kitty had a hand over her lips. But rather than looking surprised, it was evident she planned to blow his Majesty one of her famous, other-worldly kisses.

Distancing himself from them by rising up once more, his palms up in surrender, Danny tried placating them. That was the problem of having friendly rivals: everything was cool between you until you said something that irked them, then they’d try to destroy without much reservation. “Guys, trust me. I don’t like this any more than you do. But it’s our only choice! Do you seriously want to let the Ghost Zone collapse?!”

That made them settle down. But their glowing, menacing eyes urged him to go on, demanding answers. Sighing, he tried to gather his thoughts. How could he explain to them what he barely understood himself? On their next meeting he was going to demand some answers out of Lady Arcana; no way would he let her hog all the information while he remained in the dark. “Apparently, the witches are a little...rusty, you could say. They’re not as in sync with the portals as they used to be, so the Witch Queen needs to put in the effort to find a solution. That’s why it’s taken us longer than expected to put an end to this”

“And how do you know she’s not lying through her teeth?” Ember questioned in distrust. “That’s what they’re good at; if they need anything out of you, they’ll earn your trust. But the moment they’re done using you, they have no qualms as to what’ll happen to you next.”

“Ember’s got a point.” Kitty agreed. “How do we know they’re not just using us to get something out of us only to ditch us the moment they got whatever that is?” Then, she gasped as a horrible realisation dawned on her. “Even worse...How do we know they aren’t the ones responsible for everything?”

As the three ghosts began chattering and theorising amongst themselves, Danny tried to get their attention back on him. “Guys...Guys, listen...Guys, come on…” Seeing as they wouldn’t be paying attention to him any time soon, he lost his patience. “Would you just listen to me?!”

Satisfied that his abrupt outburst had shut them up, he smirked, before growing wary again. “I understand your concerns, because, honestly, they're mine, too. I know we can’t let our guards down around them; they’re not like the rest of humans. They aren’t a group of ghost hunters with advanced tech, or even more halfas who decided to turn their backs on the Ghost Zone and create their own society. They’re humans that were born with powers; they’re freaks of nature! 

“But they’re also our safest bet right now. The Guys in White are too busy looking for ways to haunt me down or for stores that sell all-white clothes to even know how the ghost portals work. Not to mention, they’re too stupid to realise that destroying our world destroys Earth, too.” He rolled his eyes at that. The only thing worse than a pain in the butt was a useless pain in the butt. “Vlad would demand I pass the throne to him in exchange for his help, and we all know how that’d turn out.” He felt a small sort of satisfaction at their cringing faces. “And no ghost understands the mysterious nature behind the ghost portals. The only beings who’ve ever been able to surpass the lass separating both worlds are the witches; I’m sorry guys, but they’re really our only hope.”

“How do we know we can trust them?” Johnny insisted, not one to back down.

“We don’t.” was Danny’s reply, and he felt more defeated than in any previous fight. 

The three ghosts exchanged glances, a silent conversation going on between them. Out of the three of them, Ember was the most antagonistic; if she really wanted to, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack him. The lovebirds were a different thing entirely. Most of the time Kitty was content just hanging out, and Johnny’s main goal was to please her, for things got ugly whenever his girlfriend wasn’t pleased… Having said that, just like they could act as just another couple of teenagers or young adults (he never really asked for their ages…), they could turn on him in the blink of an eye. 

Dreading their reactions, Danny kept himself aloft. Close enough so they wouldn’t suspect, but far enough so he’d have enough of a head start to get the Hell out of there. 

Finally, the three turned their heads to look at him. The fiery spirit was the one to speak. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Her question sent the snow-white haired boy reeling. What did he plan to do about it? In all honesty, it was a good question. Even if he hadn’t seen Lady Arcana and her kind in actionーbeyond a floating book being shoved in his face, that isー, judging from what had been recorded in the Far Frozen’s archives and Sojourn’s journal, they were to be feared. Danny knew how to deal with rogue spirits and even ghost hunters, since his powers usually provided him with the upper hand, but actual reality warpers whose powers he knew next to nothing about? He wasn’t so sure how he’d fare in a fight against them.

Still, he was nothing if he wasn’t resourceful, and holding their meetings in the Ghost Zone gave him a certain advantage over a group of foreigners. He’d find a way. He had to. “Everything in my power.” He answered truthfully. 

“I see.” Even though Ember didn’t look particularly impressed with his answer, she let it go. Walking over to her previous seat, her friends following her example, she called out to Danny over her shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. “So, anything to report, dipstick? How’s the missus back home?”

“Har har… Very funny, Ember.” The Ghost King replied sardonically. “You know I’m single.”

“Then you’d better watch out for all your rabid fangirls waiting for their chance to claim you as theirs, baby!” The popstar cackled maliciously. “Seriously, they’re like savage beasts! Lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce.” She sighed as her laughter died down, pretending to wipe a tear off the corner of her eye. “Sucks to be you.”

“At least Dash Baxter is not part of my fanclub, unlike some other ghost I know...” He retorted, smugly. His smirk widened at the sight of Ember physically shuddering in disgust. 

“That was low.” She accused, and all she got in response was a noncommittal shrug.

Eying their conversation with increasing interest, Johnny couldn’t help but add his two cents. “Cut her some slack, man. At least Ember isn’t responsible for the dude’s gay awakening.” 

Grinning madly, Ember high-fived him while Kitty rolled her eyes at their antics in amusement, obviously used to them by now. And Danny….Danny didn’t know why he even talked to those guys. Flinching at the implications behind the biker’s jab, he opted to not dignify that with an answer. 

“Can we change the topic to...I don’t know...literally anything else?” He begged. He’d have to bleach his brain to get the image of Dash making a Danny Phantom shrine, not unlike Paulina’s, out of his head. 

Covering her mouth to quiet her chuckles down, Kitty took pity on him. “Guess who’s going to improv classes in her free time?”

Oh, Kitty. Sweet, compassionate, clingy, jealous Kitty. That was why she was his favourite...after Cujo. And Wulf...and after Dora...she was far behind Frostbite, too, that was for sure... Basically, his favourite after any other ghost he officially was on better terms with. But, hey, the intention’s what counts. “You want to be an actress?”

“It’s a nice hobby.” She shrugged before pointing her thumb at her boyfriend, looking unimpressed. “I’ve tried getting Johnny to come with me, but he just won’t budge.”

Danny pretended he didn’t notice the way Johnny, oh so subtly, inched a little further away from her. “Sorry, Babe. You know I love you, but that’s your passion, not mine.”

“And riding bikes is your passion, but at least I’m still there to support you!”

Uh, oh. The classic bike over girlfriend argument...The ghost biker had better come up with a good enough retort or Danny would be stuck trying to do damage control when they took the fight outside. And by ‘outside’ he meant Amity Park. Landing beside him, Danny elbowed the teenager lightly on the ribs. 

At first Johnny just glared at him, but when the halfa returned his glare with a pointed look of his own, he caught his drill. “Don’t be like that, babe! You know I could never replace you. Thing’s just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

There was a twisted irony in the fact that the very same ghost who once tried to replace his girlfriend’s physical form with Jazz’s was the one saying he ‘could never replace her.’ 

Bored with his answer, probably from hearing it a million times already, the green-haired ghost just turned away from him with a huff. “And yet, that doesn’t stop you from trying. Why don’t you ask Shadow for support? I’m sure he’ll rock the miniskirt…”

Noticing Johnny getting frustrated beside him, if the way he curled his hands into fists was any indication, Danny immediately sent a panicked look at Ember, silently asking her for help. The popstar, in turn, just made herself comfortable. She stretched before leaning back on her rock, her arms behind her head. She was clearly enjoying the show a little too much to want it to stop. 

Growing frustrated himself, Danny chose to take matters into his own hands. “I think what Johnny means is that, while you’re a great help and things wouldn’t be the same without you,” he sent a meaningful look the biker’s way, daring him to try and contradict him, “he fears hindering you instead.”

That caught her attention. “Really?”

A quick jab on his side from the halfa was enough to get Johnny talking. “Yeah, totally. I...I already got in between your dream once, Kitten. I’d hate to prevent you from fulfilling it ever again.” He admitted, and the somber way he said those words made Danny realise there was much more behind those improv classes than what meets the eye. Even if it was doubtful he’d ever get a clear confirmation as to what exactly that was, he had a pretty good guess. 

“Oh, Johnny!” Tearing up, a hand on her chest, Kitty threw himself at her boyfriend’s arms. “I love you. And I don’t blame you for anything, you know that, right?”

He sent her a small smile. “Just because you don’t blame me doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven myself, Kitten.” 

The red-eyed girl felt like tearing up all over again, but for completely different reasons. Deep down, she knew it’d be a long time before she convinced Johnny he wasn’t responsible for what happened, if ever. But for now, she was happy just touching his forehead with hers, showing him she’d always be there. 

Coming to stand besides Ember, a content smile on his face, Danny just watched the couple. The popstar, on the contrary, didn’t look as pleased. “You just had to help them reconcile, didn’t you? You couldn’t let me have my fun.”

“Isn’t she your best friend?” He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. “Don’t you care enough about her to want her to be happy?”

“I care more about her than you’ll ever know, dipstick.” Her voice was laced with venom, as if warning him to not overstep his boundaries, and...something else Danny couldn’t quite decipher. 

The few times he’d seen the two girls interact, like when they haunted Amity Park just for kicks rather than some evil agenda, Danny would get the distinct feeling that there was some sort of thing going on between them. And, he had to admit, with the way their boyfriends regularly got on their nerves, Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the two decided to be each other’s Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy and eloped. 

But then...there were moments like this. Moments where Kitty would look truly happy in Johnny’s arms, almost as if they never fought. And Johnny? Johnny looked at her like she was the most wonderful thing that's ever happened in his after-life. And she probably was. 

Whatever happened to them, it was obvious it interlinked their obsessions with each other. And given ghosts’ complicated natures, it was unlikely they’d ever leave each other’s side. Which meant whatever feelings Ember harbored, they most likely would never be reciprocated. He wondered if Skulker knew…

After what felt like an eternity to their viewers and a few measly seconds to the couple, Ember chose to continue the conversation where they’d left it, in hopes of finally breaking the ‘cute couple’ apart. “So, how’re your classes going, Kitty?”

She also chose to ignore the dipstick’s disapproving look. 

“Wha…Oh! My classes. Yeah...” She remembered; her question bringing her back from Wonderland. She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her head and her stomach from the little butterflies only Johnny could cause her. “Most of the time it’s cool, but sometimes it’s just…” She made a face, as if that explained everything.

Danny tilted his head to the side. “How come?”

“She says the teacher’s instructions are wild.” Johnny supplied, coming to wrap his arm around her waist.

“The other day, for example,” she started, leaning closer to her boyfriend in a manner that looked almost unconscious, “he told me, ‘try to act like you care, only to don’t care at all,’” she mimicked, lowering her usual pitch to a much deeper voice, “and I was like, ‘okay...?’”

While her two friends exchanged agreements on how weird the directions were, Danny’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so like in high school!”

The three of them just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You know, high school. The epitome of acting like you care when you really don’t care.”

Now, instead of looking at him like he’d grown a second headーsomething he’d actually done when trying to learn to duplicate himself, as a matter of factーthey were simultaneously staring at him and exchanging nervous glances among them. The same way a group of friends would do during an intervention. It was Johnny who broke the ice. “Yeah…” He said slowly. “I don’t think that applies.”

“‘Course it does!” Danny insisted, throwing a hand in the air as if that would validate his point, the other resting on his hip. “Think about it, in high school you’re expected to care about your marks, your extracurricular activities, hanging out with the right group...But deep down you don’t give a fuck about school and all you wanna do is stay at home playing video games, chatting with your friends, eating junk food…”

There was a beat of silence. But whereas the ghost couple wondered just how traumatic his high school experience had been, the popstar looked contemplative, a finger on her chin. “...he has a point.” She said, and now Kitty and Johnny were looking at her like she needed medical help. “Take it from me, the personification of teenage rebellion. My powers would be useless if teens actually cared about their education.”

“Hm, I guess that makes sense?” Kitty conceded. “Alright, so I gotta act like a kid in high school. Got it. Thanks, Danny!” She smiled brightly at him. 

“Don’t mention it.” He waved it off. 

“Speaking of high school…” Ember trailed off, and the almost predatory look on her face was enough to make Danny want to flee right there and then. “Has the great Ghost King found himself a queen yet? I know you said earlier that you’re single but, c’mon. That can’t be right. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure your last girlfriend’s that Red Huntress chick you used to date in sophomore year.”

“Dude, you haven’t had a girlfriend since high school?!” Johnny looked both personally affronted and astonished at the revelation. “Are you gay?” 

Luckily for him, Danny wouldn’t have to blast him with an ecto-ray; Kitty already took care of it. “Johnny! Have you learned nothing from Mean Girls? You can’t just ask people if they’re gay!”

“Pretty sure the actual line was ‘you can’t just ask people why they’re white.’” Ember pointed out. 

“Oh, that’s right. Anyway, doesn’t matter. It was uncalled for.” Then she lay her concerned, red eyes on the halfa and he couldn’t help but gulp loudly. He knew that look. He dreaded that look. It was the concerned-older-sister-looking-out-for-her-baby-brother look. Jazz had put a patent on it long ago. “Is something wrong, though? Several years without a girlfriend is a little bit unusualー”

“And worrying.” Johnny added. 

“ーfor a young man. Do you want to talk about it? Or, even  better, how about I organise you a blind date, hm? I’m sure we’ll find you a nice girl in no time!”

Could there be anything worse than ghosts concerning themselves over his love life? “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He said flatly. 

Ember just looked at him like he was crazy. “Um, hello? For better or worse you are our king, dipstick. How do you plan on continuing the bloodline without even a girlfriend?”

“I could just have Vlad make me some clones…” He mumbled to himself. It was meant as a joke, but the mere thought of letting that fruitloop anywhere near his DNA was enough to send chills running down his spine. 

Not hearing the halfa’s poor attempt to joke, Johnny snorted in response to Ember’s answer. Shaking his head as he walked over to Danny, his thumbs hitched at the hem of his pants, the biker draped an arm over the halfa’s shoulders in an almost brotherly fashion. “Cut it out, Ember.” He chided with no real malice, before focusing on Danny. “Don’t listen to her, dude. She’s only asking ‘cause she thinks getting laid will help you blow off some steam, enough so you get off our backs for a while.”

“Johnny!” Kitty scolded him, feeling sorry for Danny.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Actually, he is.” The popstar admitted. “Saw right through me.”

His face flushing green, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This could not be happening. First, they try to butt in on his love life, and now they comment of his sex life?! Somebody put him out of his misery… 

“Again, I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He groaned in dismay. He could only thank his lucky stars Sam wasn’t there to witness such humiliation. Wait a minute...Sam? Where did that come from?

As he battled with his thoughts, he’d have preferred it if his enhanced senses hadn’t caught Ember leaning close to whisper to Kitty in her ear, “Dipstick’s got no action in weeks, I tell you.”

That was it. “Okay!” He exclaimed, a little too loudly, as he clasped his hands together with a forced, cheerful grin on his face. “As lovely as catching up with you guys has beenーit was great, reallyー, I really ought to keep on patrolling. Ugh, the busy life of the ruler of the Ghost Zone. See ya!” He waved them goodbye as he took off in the direction he came from, drifting away from them. 

Before he was out of earshot, though, Ember shouted after him. “While you’re at it try to find yourself a girlfriend!” Then, she mimicked putting something on her ring finger before singing at the top of her lungs. “If you like it, put a ring on it!”

As they cackled at his expense, Danny stopped mid-air. Like he’d ever let her have the last laugh… He cupped a hand around his mouth, calling out to her, “I’m surprised you’re not egomaniac enough to only reference your own songs!”

In an instant, all traces of amusement on the popstar’s face were gone, replaced by irritation. “Fuck you!” She flipped the bird at him, while her two companions now laughed their asses off at her expense. 

Meeting her rude gesture with a mock salute and a cheeky grin, Danny turned around, flying away at top speed. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by a group of dimwits, he was alone with his thoughts. 

More specifically, he was alone with the thought of Sam. 

He really didn’t understand how her memory had popped up out of nowhere, let alone why it’d popped up right when they were discussing his love life, or lack thereof. Not that long ago, the face that would’ve made an entrance would’ve been Valerie’s. Not because he still had feelings for her, although he’d admit getting over her took him a while, but because she’d been the only girl he’d ever had a long-term relationship with. 

Okay, maybe saying ‘long-term’ was exaggerating a bit. They began a tentative relationship that lasted all throughout the astounding amount of three different dates, several shared lunch periods, and two weeks. 

But seeing as any subsequent attempt at dating someone new either ended in one-night stands, if he was lucky, or in half-finished dates after which the girls would tell him not to bother trying to call them, and that wasn’t even the worst outcome possibleーsometimes he’d been forced to stand them up altogether because of a sudden ghost attackー; he could safely affirm his time with Valerie was his longest dating experience. 

And it didn’t even count as dating because she broke things off before they agreed on going steady. Oh, joy…

So, really, even if his feelings for Valerie had long faded, there was still that feeling of familiarity bringing him comfort. 

But that still didn’t explain why he’d think of Sam of all people! Sure, they got along fine and they’d seen each other a few times already (last time at the restaurant they didn’t even need Tucker), but there was no sense of familiarity! They were friendly acquaintances, and no more. 

So Sam was funny, and smart, and probably the sassiest girl he’d ever met. Sure, her wits and snark were enough to put some of his most punny opponents to shame, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t run out of puns to make during a fightーsomething even he struggled withー, not like she was the kind to make puns, anyway. And that fire that would light up in her eyes whenever she spoke about doing what’s right, and animal rightsーbecause, really, could anyone react more adorably to a Purple Back Gorilla?ー, and the occult... Or the way she stood her ground because she knew who she was and she was so confident in the person she’d grown up to be!

...So what if he needed someone like that in his life back in high school? He couldn’t change the past!

Sam was probably one of the most amazing people he’d ever met, but that didn’t mean anything. Guys could admire girls without having feelings for them or wanting to get inside their pants, now, couldn’t they? If Sam were there, in fact, she’d point out they actually should be able to admire girls with no ulterior motive. 

Danny did a double-take, changing course when he was a minute shy of crashing against someone’s door. Sighing in relief as he wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, he felt like smacking himself. Again with Sam! There was nothing going on between him and Sam!

Just because he thought she was cool it didn’t mean he was crushing on her or looking for ways to get into her bed. Speaking of...he also had the distinctive feeling she would pummel him to the ground if he so much as thought about it. He liked the feeling of breathing without wincing because one of his ribs was piercing his lung, thank you very much. 

Besides, no matter how awesome Sam was, she just wasn’t his type. A guilty part of Danny had to admit, aside from his amazon chasing tendencies (thanks again, Dad), he had a soft spot for preppy girls. His first ever crush was Paulina Sanchez, Casper High’s queen bee and cheerleading captain from freshman to senior year. Even Valerie, despite losing her wealth over the Cujo accident, stayed true to her style from back when she was still popular, just...without the brand clothes. 

Sam was not preppy. 

He guessed that was a factor in how shocking it’d been to find out she, as a matter of fact, came from a rich family. With all the dough Jazz had later told him her family had, Sam could afford to use new shoes every single day and then throw them all into the trash when she came back home. 

But she didn’t. 

Instead, she preferred to buy her clothes from second-hand stores and add her personal touch later on, knowing the money would go to different humane organisations, or to buy them from independent stores. 

“Those are a bit expensive.” she explained the last time he and Tucker met up with her at the You Mocha Me Crazy. “But the clothes are high quality and tailor-made, so it’s worth it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. That was Sam; always grounded and level-headed, with the greater good in mind. 

On second thought, it was unfair of him to judge Sam just because she wasn’t preppy. Sure, she wasn’t his type, but she was still beautiful. How could she not be? With her sleek, black hair that looked so smooth it could put velvet to shame. Or those hazel eyes of hers that were a crystal clear reflection of her soul, full of emotion and mystery. Or her soft, plumb lips, always accentuated by her unusual purple lipstick, drawing your attention to them, almost begging you to kiss them…

The image sent him reeling, almost shooting through the eerie, ectoplasmic abyss of the Ghost Zone before he forced himself to come to a sudden halt. He could hear his heart frantically pounding in his ears.

WHOAH!

Where did that come from?!

Danny took a moment to steady his breath, using his hands to scrub his face. What was he thinking? Just like he had to tell Jazz over a hundred times in the drive back home from the restaurant, Sam was just a girl he knew. A pretty awesome girl, but just a girl. 

Even if she were more than that, which she wasn’t, his life was too hectic to involve anyone else. Especially not someone who could be used as leverage against him. There would never be anything more between them. The sooner everyone accepted his life was too complicated to have a normal relationship, the better. 

As Danny finally flew back to his lair, he did his best to ignore the way his heart was still fluttering in his chest.

............

They were back to square one.

Just like the last time, Danny had guided Lady Arcana and her entourage deep inside his lair until they reached the Council Room doors. Her Majesty’s two witches kept guard at both sides of the door alongside two of his own guards, while the two royals went inside to discuss. They were still far away but in front of each other, the same old large wooden table separating them. And Lady Arcana looked like she wanted to dissect him with her own hands while he was finding the sweet release of permanent death all the more appealing. 

 Why was it that progress never lasted with this woman?

Sitting down as regally as possible on her chair, Lady Arcana once again materialised a book seemingly out of nowhere. Only, this time, Danny noticed it was even more beautifully crafted than the last one. “I managed to bring this grimoire with me.” That must’ve been the first time she initiated a conversation. “Hopefully, it’ll have the answers we’re looking for.” Without warning, her violet eyes narrowed to slits, looking at him with as much venom as she could muster. “This is your only warning, if anything happens to this book while it’s in your territory, prepare to face the consequences.”

He’d heard of treating books with respect (mostly from Jazz), but this was ridiculous! “Wow, it must be a really important book. What is it, signed by the author?”

Sam fumed at his pathetic excuse of a joke. Great, like she didn’t hear enough terrible one-liners from hanging out with Tucker. Difference being, she actually liked hanging out with Tucker. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

That took him aback. “Wait, it’s got its author’s autograph? Really?”

She stopped leafing through the grimoire’s pages for a moment to meet his incredulous look. “Of course not! I mean it’s really important!” Bringing the book close to her face, she sneered. “What, is the crown so heavy it turns your brain to mush?”

“Oh, it’s heavier than you could possibly imagine…” Danny muttered through gritted teeth, mostly to himself. As if the Witch Queen didn’t know that already. The dark energy radiating from both the crown and the ring was pure torture, and enduring it a job made for Hercules himself. He was about to retort with a comeback of his own, when his eyes focused on the book’s cover, more specifically, on the golden letters making up its title:

Lady Arcana’s Grimoire

A spike of suspicion bubbling within him, the halfa wasted no time in pointing out his discovery, daring her to contradict him. “If you’re so smart to have a spellbook under your name, then how come you claim you don’t know how to solve the portal problem?” 

If she thought she could just trick him like that, she got another thing coming. So what if she was the leader of a group of conniving spellcasters? He’d been fighting toe to toe with Vlad, the biggest, most manipulative bastard he’d ever met, since he was fourteen. Exposing her evil plans would be child’s play. 

Slowly putting the book down, Sam looked at Phantom with what she was sure was the most dumbfounded expression she’d ever had. What was he talking about? “Excuse me?”

The green-eyed ghost edged around the table, getting close to her at a tauntingly slow pace. Maddening slow. When he was finally by her side, he got so close she couldn’t help but flinch back. “Oh, you know. Just wondering if perhaps you’re not taking me for a fool and pretending to help just so you and your witches can buy your time and attack us.” He got in her face, his neon green gaze so intense it almost burned. “Hm, Lady Arcana?”

For a minute, Sam just stood there, without moving an inch from her seat. Not understanding his sudden animosity. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t tension in the air whenever the two met up, but most of the time Phantom acted cheeky around her, taunting her with his cocky attitude, as if gauging her reaction and trying to figure out when he’d get a reaction out of her. At most, he’d seem annoyed or resigned when working with her. 

But this?

This cold treatment that translated itself into a literal drop in temperature in the room around her? His cool, accusing voice that made shivers run down her spine and the fire of aggravation light up in her heart? The way he looked at her like she was naked in front of him, and not in a lustful way, but in a way that made her feel like he could see right through her?

This was new, and she couldn’t say she liked it. 

A dark scowl making its way to her face, the young sorceress spat. “What are you getting at?”

Danny was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, his smile more dangerous than the countless beasts lurking on the Ghost Zone’s most remote corners. “I’d suggest you undo whatever it is that your kind did to the portals, because let me tell you, I will not go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” He growled in a menacingly low tone. 

Sam could only gasp in astonishment. But the feeling didn’t last long, soon being replaced with outrage. How dare he? Who did he think he was to accuse her and her people of putting their own lives in danger?! And all for what? To get back at a group of bodiless puppets? He had a lot of nerve.

“Listen up here, you jackー!��

“Uh, uh, uh!” Phantom cut her off with a sing-song voice, a scolding finger raised up and wagging right in front of her face. “A queen shouldn’t cuss like that, your Majesty. It’s not beckoning.”

The purple-eyed witch clutched the table with her hands so tightly, she could hear it splinting under her digits. But she didn’t care. He was taunting her, waiting for her to make the first move so he wouldn’t be accused of attempting against the life of the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. After all, the punishment was different if an attack was in self-defence, wasn’t it?

She was about to make a mistake when his cocky voice distracted her. “I’m waiting, Lady Arcana.”

Again with the sarcastic tone. Why did her name have to do with any of this?! First he said whatever nonsense of having her own book, which was absolutely ridiculous because she was an avid reader, not a writer. Then he got impossibly close and had the nerve to mock her title, right before accusing her of causing the rifts, and now…

Now it hit her. 

To Danny’s immense surprise, instead of retaliating, Lady Arcana limited herself to picking her precious book back up, her irate expression morphing itself into bored disbelief. “When you said I have my own book, did you mean this?”

“Considering it’s the only one with your name on it, then yes. That’s the one.” He deadpanned. What was she up to?

His eyebrows shot up to the ceiling when she sighed, looking beyond done with the entire situation. “If you must know, I’m not the Lady Arcana who wrote this book. She died centuries before I was even born. This grimoire,” she did the unthinkable and handed it to him, “is sort of her research journal. Everything she learned about magic during her time, it’s there. And since our respective species didn’t part ways until long after her death, it should have the answer to the portals as well.”

Listening to her explanation, he glanced down at the book in his hands. Gingerly skimming the pages, for he knew the witch would do well in her previous promise, Danny eyed its contents. Aside from the numerous runes he couldn’t understand and the mysterious drawings he didn’t know how to interpret, it was obvious that in spite of the book’s pristine condition, it had seen better days. The pages were yellowish and rough to the touch, their edges worn-out. And even if one could still make out the symbols, the ink was very washed-out. 

In short, there was no way this book belonged to the woman in front of him. 

Averting his eyes, he handed it back to get before floating over his own seat and flopping down on it. Ashamed by his actions, though not entirely convinced of the witches' innocence, he slumped down in his chair, refusing to meet her scrutinising, violet eyes.

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not having it. “Will you now stop talking about things you know nothing about?”

“I would if you at least let me know something!” He sulked, and Sam couldn’t believe to save her life that a ghost could actually act so childishly.

“Do you have the slightest idea of how frustrating it is to be at a disadvantage?” he went on. “You know what ghosts are capable of, you see them all the time on the news!” Okay, that was a wild guess, but it helped his case. “But I know next to nothing about you, and you refuse to even the ground. So excuse me for thinking you might be responsible for our current crisis because I see your name on a book that’s supposed to put an end to said crisis!”

When a few minutes went by and Lady Arcana still said nothing, he got worried. Either he’d crossed a line and ruined any chance of working together with her in the future, or he’d crossed a line and she was silently cursing him. A morbid part of him wondered if being turned into a frog would be easier than being half-ghost. Both predicaments had something in common; he could end up at someone’s dissection table. 

Then, the most unexpected thing happened. “You’re right.”

Danny was so astounded he shot forward from his chair, eyes wide. “Come again?”

The halfa resented the way she rolled her eyes at him. It was a legitimate question! “I said, ‘you’re right.’” She said, leaning forward and trying to meet his eye. She was finding it increasingly more difficult, and Sam had to wonder if it was due to his previous outburst or her own shame. “We’re both sticking our necks here, working with each other. My people might be secretive, but the least I could do is even the ground, as you say.”

Even if, ideally, Phantom was the last person Sam wanted to be honest with, having to lie to so many people in her life was taking its toll on her. And she figured, as much as she hated it, he had a point. It was hard trusting someone when they always kept you in the dark. Her own experiences with Wilhelmina proved that. 

But she had to make some things clear, first. “Before I tell you anything, however,” a small, amused smile appeared on her face when she saw him deflate, “I gotta lay out a few ground rules.”

Phantom sighed. “Fine. State your terms.”

“You can ask me whatever you want, and I will tell you as much as I can, but there are things I simply cannot divulge. You must respect that. Got it?” 

Knowing that deal could easily become a double-edged sword, against his better judgement, Danny nodded. “Got it.”

“Very well.” She leaned back on her chair, her back straight and fingers firmly clasped together on top of the table. “What do you want to know?”

The halfa didn’t even have to think of his question; it’d been plaguing his mind since he first met her. “How does your magic work?”

Well, that much she could answer. The young queen couldn’t help but see the irony in the way she was about to willingly disclose the very same information she’d viciously guarded from Danny to the Ghost King. “What you call ‘magic’ is the art of learning to control and manipulate one’s anima at will.”

“Anima?” Phantom tilted his head to the side. Sam couldn’t help but think he looked like a ghost puppy. 

She nodded as she raised one hand to her eye-level, palm up. With a snap of her fingers, the same sparkly, purple mist he remembered from the floating book accident surrounded her hand. He could only look on, stunned. “Our essence.” Lady Arcana explained, mindlessly playing with the mystical energy, watching as it slipped through her fingers like water. “Believe it or not, everyone has an anima, not just witches. The only difference is that we know how to tap into and summon it.”

“So is it like my ecto-energy?”

“In a way. There is a difference, though.”

“Which is?” He urged her, but she just shook her head. 

Danny was beginning to think that was one of the things she’d refuse to share with him when she clarified. “As with the portals, that knowledge was forgotten long ago. We don’t know what makes our essences different; we just know they are.”

“And what about the spells?” Ever since Sam cryptically told him about them, Danny’d been racking his mind for answers, trying to put two and two together. But he always came out empty-handed. He just hoped Lady Arcana had the answers. 

She sighed, and once again the halfa feared he wouldn’t get his answer after all, but once more she surprised him. “They’re intrinsically linked to our culture.” He couldn’t help but flinch when she sent him a meaningful look. “They’re also the reason why I call myself Lady Arcana...when that’s not my name.” She admitted quietly. 

Understanding the best he could do was give her time, Danny leaned forward, resting his chin on his intertwined hands that were propped on the table in front of him. He waited with bated breath for her to speak. “To do magic, you have to know the secrets of the universe.”

“The secrets of the universe?” He repeated, eyes wide. 

She nodded, pointing at her hand, the one radiating energy. “There is a secret language; the one the universe was created and communicates with. To do magic you need two things: to be in sync with your anima, and to know that secret language so you can get the results you want. Every spell we make we cast it by calling the secret name of whatever we set our minds to. Because of this system, in our culture names give you power. That’s why I go by Lady Arcana, because if anyone were to know my real name, it’d give them power over me.”

Danny had to force his mouth shut at her words. So witches were in tune with the universe on a whole different level than most people. A part of him couldn’t help but point out the similarities between the two, for if people were to find out his secret, he’d be completely at their mercy. Vlad had certainly used his secret against him in the past, the only way it didn’t do more damage than necessary was because he also knew his and could counter attack. 

A part of him wished he could ask her the true questions plaguing his mind. Mostly, why? Why did her people sell ghosts out like that? Why did they choose ruining a centuries-long alliance was worth it? Why did they refuse to acknowledge the damage they’d done?!

Just why?

But the sharper part of him, the one who usually took charge of things when coming up with puns or ghost-fighting, knew that question would most likely go unanswered. And at worst it’d bring back the tension their, surprisingly, civil conversation had dissipated. So instead he chose to be the polite young man his parents raised. 

“Thank you for coming clean to me, my lady. I…I understand it must’ve been difficult.” He tried to channel his best intentions through his grateful grin. 

For a minute Sam just stared at the ghost in front of her, speechless. She had to admit, Phantom had proved he could be mature, albeit usually after enough jabs and pointless arguing, so it shouldn’t have come out as such a surprise that now he seemed genuinely grateful for her honesty. And yet, the sincerity in his glowing, green eyes, and the kindness radiating from his smile were enough to make her heart flutter, touched. The way he looked at her made him seem almost completely harmless, friendly, and caring.

It made him seem like Danny. 

The past few days, after unexpectedly running into him in Verde Que te Quiero Verde, her mind always went back to him. A nice, warm feeling would bubble deep within her whenever she thought of his unruly, black hair, or his deep, baby blue eyes, or just his general kindness and alertness to the way other people feel… Sam would feel her face heat up whenever she remembered she still had his hoodie; or when she’d admit to herself that she didn’t know if she could ever give it back. 

As nice as the feeling was, it certainly didn’t help when it clouded her judgement when she was carrying out her duties. Such as that very moment. 

What was she thinking, comparing Danny Phantom to Danny Fenton?! They couldn’t be more different! Danny’s voice was rich and soothing, while Phantom’s had a certain echo that reminded everyone of his current state of being. Danny had absolutely no interest in following in his parents’ footsteps; he dreamed of being an astronaut and the Fentons had often neglected him and his sister in favour of ghost-hunting. Phantom was both a ghost hunter himself and the very ghost Danny’s parents were after!

And most importantly, Sam could actually put up with Danny’s presence, whereas she’d more than once wondered if spirits could be strangled. 

While she appreciated the Ghost King’s bout of friendliness, she’d have to remind herself that he and Danny were two entirely different people. But for now, it wouldn’t hurt to show some gratitude in return. “Thank you for listening and respecting my request, Phantom.” She smiled back. 

The king shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “It’s the least I could do. Hey, if you have any questions of your own, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam was about to thank him for his offer but decline anyway when she changed her mind, an idea materialising in her head. Using her two hands for support to get up from her chair, she walked around the wooden table between them and towards her host. She didn’t stop until she was almost within touching distance. 

Propping herself up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, in the most relaxed position Danny had seen her, she spoke. “If I ask a favour of you, will you grant it?”

“Depending on what you ask.” He replied truthfully.

She guessed that was fair enough. Unfolding her arms, she used one hand to point at him. “Please, refrain yourself from wearing...” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing to the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, “that during our meetings.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. The only reason he wore the dreaded things in the first place was to keep her and her guards in line. If it meant not being vulnerable around them, he was willing to endure their torment. “You see, I wear these to show my very special guests just how seriously I take their visit,” Danny started, his voice dripping in sarcasm, before turning more serious with a menacing glare, his eyes glowing bright. “How do I know you won’t double-cross me the moment I take them off?”

Sam didn’t like the way this conversation suddenly turned from civil, to accusing. Again. “How do I know you won’t use them to double-cross me?”

“I believe I asked you first.” 

Growing irritated, Sam clutched at her skin. “Simple; I’m not the one wearing that.”

There was a reason purple-eyed witches such as herself or Grandma Ida were so respected in their society; only they could resist the darkness their people so feared. And the dark forces radiating from the Ghost King’s crown and ring? They were vile. The age of eternal blackness, pain, and suffering they promised were enough to make her hairs stand on end. Therefore, seeing Phantom wield them so nonchalantly was a clear indicator that he was not to be trifled with. 

Not uttering a word, Phantom got up from his chair and made his way to her. Sam had to fight the urge to flinch away from him in fright when he stood, imposing, in front of her. “Funny.” He said with a hint of sick amusement in his voice. “It was a gift from your kind.”

Sam could only gasp at his words, a hand to her chest and her feet unconsciously taking a few steps back. However, before she could fully register his words and react accordingly, the ground at her feet started moving, unprompted. Her body involuntarily swaying from the sudden tremors, she tried to keep her balance by hopelessly flailing her arms, in search of support. 

But her efforts proved themselves fruitless when another, stronger, jolt tossed her down to the ground with a low thud. The only reason she even registered she’d fallen was the sudden change in perspective; Phantom, who, seemingly on instinct, had risen up in the air the moment the room shook, went from being in front of her to horizontal. 

“What’s going on?” She choked out, too disoriented to even stand. 

Noticing the turmoil in her voice, their previous conversation forgotten in favour of the current events, Danny was by her side in an instant, gently helping her up. This could only mean one thing. “Uh, no…”

“‘Uh, no?’” Lady Arcana asked, holding onto his arm for dear life. “‘Uh, no’ what?”

Before Danny could so much as offer an answer a distinct cry in a language he didn’t understand could be heard from the other side of the door. In the blink of an eye, a gust of bright yellow wind came crashing through the door, reducing it to smithereens. What was truly unbelievable, however, was the way the wind seemed to have solidified with the intention of bursting the doors open. 

Fast as lightning, Lady Arcana’s trusty companions rushed into the room, looking for their queen. The teenagerーSusan, Danny believedーwasted no time checking over her leader. “Your Majesty, are you okay?!” As she asked, her bespectacled partner slid beside their queen, offering her to lean into her for support. “We were guarding the doors when suddenly the lair started trembling!”

“I’m fine, Susan. Stand down.” She reassured her. “Are you guys alright?”

“Affirmative, your Majesty.” The strawberry blonde one answered, adjusting her glasses with her free hand, the other still holding Lady Arcana by her waist. “But I believe we should leave immediately, whatever it is that’s going on, it’s not safe!”

“What is going on, anyway?” Susan hissed, clearly suspecting of the ghosts’ ulterior motives. 

To Sam’s surprise, Phantom actually looked sheepish. He was fidgeting with his gloved fingers with an awkward smile on his face. “This may or may not be my fault…”

The dark-haired queen was in no mood for half-assed answers like that. “Explain.” She gritted out. 

“I seem to have forgotten to take care of the latest black hole forming before it reached its mature state.” He admitted. 

There was  a moment of silence where one could've heard a pin drop, until Sam screeched at the top of her lungs, “You what?! How do you forget to take care of a fucking black hole!?”

“What did I tell you about swearing?” He tried to joke, but the scorching glare he received from her in return made him gulp. “I know, I know. I really meant to take care of everything sooner, but things kept popping up and getting in the way. But don’t worry, I’ll fix this.”

“How?” Susan asked, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes glaring daggers at him. 

“That...I don’t know.” He admitted, looking positively sick to his stomach. “I’ve never had to take care of a black hole in this state. But don’t worry, you three can go back home. I’ll manage; I always do.”

An impending sense of doom made Sam’s stomach churn. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling Phantom wouldn’t make it if he tried to take care of the problem by himself.

And so, with a heavy heart, she turned to her witches, getting out of Stephanie’s well-meaning but suffocating grasp. “You two go back home, I’ll stay here and help him.”

“What?!” The two screamed in unison, and Sam could feel a bewildered Phantom looking at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind. She probably had. 

Lo and behold, he was right there, agreeing with them. “‘What’ is right. You can’t stay here; your people need you!”

“King Phantom’s right, your Majesty.” Stephanie tried to reason. “What will become of the clan without you?”

“It’ll be madness!” Susan squeaked, looking scared for once in her life. “If anything, we should stay to ensure your safety!”

Touched beyond belief by their loyalty and devotion, Sam gently grasped their hands in hers. She tried to convey as much calmness as possible through her smile. “One way or another, the clan will find a way to revive from its ashes, even without me. That’s the way it’s always been. But I can’t live with myself knowing I stole two children from their families, and so, I must let you go.”

“B-but...your Majesty!” Susan whimpered, tears in her eyes. 

Before she’d have a change of heart, the queen turned to the older witch. “Stephanie, you’re the better spellcaster. Take Susan with you and back to the clan.” Then she turned around and picked the grimoire up in her hands before passing it to her. “And take this with you. We can’t afford anything happening to it.”

“But what about you?!”

“I will do everything in my power to return to you.” She swore solemnly. 

With a sad nod, Stephanie let go of her queen’s hand and took the younger sorceress with her. With a finger high in the sky, she cried out, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt!” 

In a flash of forest green light, they were gone. 

Now that they were alone (for Walker’s goons had returned to their boss the moment the shaking began), Danny turned to the Witch Queen. “What’s your angle?”

“I want to help you.” She said, never taking her eyes off of his. 

“But what about your people?” He pressed. “Isn’t protecting them your top priority?”

“If what little I know of black holes and your world doesn’t fail me, letting one loose would mean the end of everything we know and love. So I am protecting my people.”

He couldn’t argue against that logic. 

The moment was broken by the unanticipated feeling of being pulled towards an unknown direction. Noticing Lady Arcana staggering clumsily on her feet, Danny rushed to grab her by the shoulders in an attempt to steady her. Immediately, her own hands were grabbing firmly onto his.

As stable as his lair was, staying inside during a black hole would be dangerous and extremely foolish. Unfortunately, there was no time to explain. “My Lady, what I’m about to do might seem a bit crazy, but I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

“What are youー?”

“Can you trust me?” He insisted, his bright, green eyes begging. 

Under any other circumstances her answer would’ve been a definite ‘no.’ Phantom was a ghost and she was a witch. Her people had been foolish enough to trust them once and it cost them dearly. But at that moment, right then and there, against her better judgement, she did. When he looked at her like his life depended on her, she couldn’t deny him anything. Somehow, that terrified her more than the black hole.

“I do.” She breathed. “I trust you.”

One moment, he smiled at her so brightly Sam feared he might blind her. And on the other, he pushed her away from him, shoving her roughly to the stone wall. Fearing the worst, Sam braced herself for an impact that never came. Instead all she could feel was a tingling sensation coursing through her body before she landed on the dirt with a loud thud, but not hard enough to really hurt her. 

When she opened her eyes, she was stunned to see she was outside of the lair’s confines, completely unscathed. How did she…? Her thoughts were put to a halt when she caught something from the corner of her eye that made her blood run cold, as well as her mouth drop in astonishment. 

In front of her, in the middle of the infinite ectoplasmic ocean of the Ghost Zone, stood a ginormous swirl of never-ending blackness, engulfing everything within range. As she stood there, agape, the celestial body’s natural pull began to draw her in. Burying her heels in the ground, desperately clutching at the building’s walls for support, she suddenly felt a hand around her wrist, yanking at her in the opposite direction. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw Phantom’s staring right back. “Don’t let go!” He instructed with a strained voice. He was using every bit of strength he had to fly them both in the opposite direction. 

“How do we stop this?!” She cried out, holding onto him for dear life. 

“I’m not sure!” He called back, his own hold on her never loosening. “As I said, I’ve never had to take care of a black hole under these conditions! The universe wouldn’t happen to have a code word for stopping this sort of thing, would it?”

She could only shake her head. “If it does, I don’t know what it is!”  Oh, that was just great. The one time she needed her magic the most, and not only didn’t she have the answers, but she didn’t even know enough on the subject to find a mundane solution to it. If only Danny were there, he’d know what to do. “Ugh, why didn’t I pay more attention when we talked about Astrophysics!?”

At her words, a lightbulb lit up in Danny’s head. Astrophysics, duh! How could he have been so dense to forget his own area of expertise! All he needed to do was find a way to apply what he knew into a situation with a considerably smaller amount of money involved. To be more specific, he had about $3,75 in his pocket. As he struggled to keep both Lady Arcana and him safe, he kept looking at the black hole, studying its form and comparing it to every single piece of information he knew on them. 

It wasn’t until he focused on his movements that it hit him. “I have an idea, but it might sound a little crazy.”

“Would you look at that? It goes with the entire situation we found ourselves in!” The sorceress chided with fake cheer. 

“You can roast me with your sarcasm as much as you want later, but now I need you to listen to me.” He took her silence as a sign to continue. “I know what I have to do; I have to fly straight towards the black hole, but since I know it’s risky, I need you to run as far away as possible. Maybe even teleport yourself like your friends.”

“Are you crazy?!”

He shrugged it off. “A little. Please, it’s our only chance.”

Every second Lady Arcana didn’t answer his heart did somersaults in his chest. If it weren’t for his hands being a bit tied up at the moment, he would’ve started biting on his nails anxiously. After what felt like hours, she nodded. “Okay, but on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“Put us down somewhere remotely safe and I’ll tell you.”

In a quick succession of movements, he went from holding her wrist to holding her bridal style, his mind too preoccupied in finding somewhere safe to notice the way her cheeks reddened at the sudden intimacy. When he put her down on the floor he could only gape as she rolled her skirt and tied it up so it now reached her knees rather than the floor. But what truly caught his eye was what she was wearing on her feet.

“You wear combat boots under your skirt?”

At that, she put on a blank face. Now it was not the time for stupid questions! “Have you ever run in high heels?”

Admittedly, he had not.

“Thought so.” She hummed. “Besides, if you want me to run away from here, this gives me a greater chance at getting away. More mobility and all that.”

“Fine, I get it. So, what’s your condition?”

She looked at him. Her initial plan was to ask him to remove the crown and ring during any subsequent meetings, but now that he was staring intently at her, waiting for her answer with bated breath right as he was about to do the unthinkable, she found she couldn’t ask such a thing. Swallowing loudly, she got close to him; closer than she’d ever been. As soon as they were close enough their bodies almost touched, so close she could make out the green blush adorning his features, she placed her hands on his chest and slid them up slowly. 

Unbeknownst to her, to Danny it was maddeningly so. He could already hear his heart beating in his ears, her lavender eyes seemed to gaze deep into his soul, when he heard the distinct sound of something unclasping. Before he knew it, his cape had fallen to the ground. When he turned to look at her quizzically, she had an impish grin on her face. “In the words of the great Edna Mode, ‘no capes!’”

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics, even if said antics made perfect sense when he was about to fly into a black hole. “Okay, okay. I get it. No capes.” He grew serious again, sending her a meaningful look. “But you’d better run away, you hear me?”

“I will.” 

With that they both turned their backs on each other, about to run off in different directions when Sam had the sudden urge to call out to him over her shoulder. “Oh, and Phantom?” He raised a questioning brow. “Please, be careful.”

Her request rendering him speechless, Danny limited himself to nodding before he took off in the direction of the massive swirl of energy.

Ghostly black holes were formed when two ancient lairs came into contact with each other, resulting in enormous amounts of uncontrollable ecto-energy. The usual protocol was to evacuate the areas near the decaying lairs and destroy at least one of them before disaster happened. 

That was what he meant to do the other day before his encounter with Valerie forced him to spend the remainder of the day resting before going out with Jazz. By the time he felt better, he’d already forgotten all about it. Which meant he now needed to take desperate measures. 

A black hole’s traction power didn’t come from its Singularity, but from its Event Horizon. In other words, it came from the swirling mass of matter surrounding it. Considering this was a rotating black hole, the Penrose Process was his safest bet. He turned himself intangible, in hopes of not being pulled into due to his lack of body mass, and flew straight to the celestial body’s Ergosphere; a region of rotating space-time around the hole. 

Once inside, Danny didn’t waste a second to rev up until he’d reached his top speed, which he could only hope was enough, as he began moving counterclockwiseーthe opposite direction the black hole was rotating in. 

After what felt like hours, Danny could feel his face light up in triumph when he registered the way the hole seemed to come to a halt. That was all he needed. With renewed vigour, the halfa pushed himself a little further, breaking his personal record, and forced the massive source of matter to follow his course. Only this time, rather than increase in size, it shrank ever so slowly. 

Unfortunately, Danny was so caught up in the process he failed to see the side effect his plan was having on the black hole. With one last display of strength, it began to pull once more, except now the halfa had no place to go. Panicking, but knowing he couldn’t get away or all his efforts would be for naught, Danny resigned himself to his fate. 

“Conjunctionis ligaveris!”

“Huh?” His brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden cry, his eyes soon widened in disbelief when he felt something wrap around his ankles and tug at him and away from the black hole. 

Glancing down at his feet, he noticed the sparkly, purple, rope-like construction tied tightly around him. Trailing the rope to its origins, he gasped when he saw it was Lady Arcana who was holding onto it for dear life. 

Did she just save him?

Finally, due to Danny’s ministrations, the colossal swirling void of darkness began to curl in on itself. Then, with a deafening sound, the black hole imploded in a burst of blinding light, forcing Danny to cover his tortured ears, and Sam to shield her violet eyes. Both of them holding tight with the remnants of strength they had left onto the witch’s improvised rope.

After what felt like hours, her ears still ringing, the queen lowered her arm from her face. She blinked repeatedly, willing the dark spots filling her vision to vanish. With her vision cleared, she gasped, frantically looking around in search of Phantom. 

A voice behind her made her jump forward a few steps. “How did you do that?”

Whirling around, she couldn’t help but let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when she saw the Ghost King looking at her. Although he looked far more surprised than she expected. “Do what?”

“You…”, he started. It just didn’t make any sense! “You grabbed me!”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “...yeah, so?”

“You grabbed me and I was intangible!” He threw his arms up in the air, his mind still coming to terms with what'd just happened. 

Realisation finally dawned on Sam. “Oh, you’re right. By definition, I shouldn’t have been able to touch you…” She trailed off.

“Well,” he pressed, “how did you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She shrugged as she noticed the rope still tied to Phantom’s ankle, before willing it to disappear. “I just saw you in trouble and I knew I had to do something. I wasn’t really thinking when I did it, I just...did.”

She saw him mumble something unintelligible before his bright eyes lay on her, hard. She should’ve known this was coming, “Look, I know I said I’d run away. But, as I said, I saw you in trouble and I had to act! So there’s no need for you to lecture me about it. What’s done is done.”

“Actually,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile on his face. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t listen to me.”

Starting at his words, the two made eye contact. As she gazed, once again, upon his grateful eyes, his expression full of sincerity, she couldn’t keep her own smile from forming in her face. As they stood there, both royals could only think that, if they could work together to stop an infinite swirl of darkness, even trusting the other with their lives, then they should be able to work together to put an end to the crisis threatening their worlds.