#this park is greener than others

[puckinghischier]

Surprise…?

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: anon request for luke getting hurt during a game

notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩

[3.3k]

~

There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.

As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.

“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.

Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.

“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.

“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”

You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.

In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.

“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.

“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.

Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.

“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.

“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.

The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.

You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.

You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet. You wondered if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.

Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.

Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.

The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.

“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.

“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.

“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.

“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”

Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.

Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.

As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.

With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.

What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.

You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.

Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.

You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.

Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.

“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”

The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.

You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.

“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”

All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.

“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.

You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.

“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.

You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.

You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.

“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.

You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.

“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.

“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.

“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out,” you shudder at the memory. “It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked,” his tone apologetic. “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two or three games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.

“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.

“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.

Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.

“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.

Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.

“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”

“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.  

“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.

“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.

“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.

“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.

Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.

“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”

“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.

Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.

“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.

“You did this?” You look over at Luke, nearly eye level with him, even though he’s laying on the table beside you.

“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.

“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.

“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.

“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.

“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.

“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.

“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.

“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.

“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”

“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.

“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.

#luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #hughes brothers #lh43 #new jersey devils #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot

[homunculus-argument]

I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?

I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.

Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.

Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.

I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.

I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.

It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.

I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.

[xyaehir]

all i need —

SYP — “girl ur made for me, cuz ur love is all i need” just scenarios <3

GEN. — fluff, crack

WARN. — gn!reader, not proofread

NOTES — yk i love the grumpy x sunshine and polar opposites troupe so why not incorporate some hints of that into this? might make a pt 2..

at first glance, not many people would expect either of you to pursue each other.

the way you both handle things are different, reactions and such. and when you think of that, there’s only one situation that comes to mind..

throwing your head back slightly, you laugh at one of his lame jokes. hand in hand, both of you turn the corner, still too invested in your conversation to take in the sight in front if you.

he’s the first one to look, halting his movements as he stays rooted to the ground. you, taking note of his tense form, stop to turn to him. cocking an eyebrow, you nudge him on his shoulder and worryingly ask, “babe? you okay?”

his mouth is agape a bit and his eyes are fixated on whats in front of him. seeing as he’s not gonna answer, you follow his line of sight and gasp slightly.

there in front of both of you stood a couple leaning against a wall, making out. you grimaced slightly, noticing their lust for each other through their eager movements. ‘they kiss like fish..,’ you thought, deadpanning.

you felt a tug on your arm, pulling you back.

“c’mon, let’s go before they see us. they might think we enjoy watching them eat each others’ face,” he whispered, hooking an arm around your waist.

you were about to comply but you thought of something way better than just ignoring it. a mischievous smile creeps its way on your face and he grows concerned, not liking that smug look on your face.

unraveling your arms from his, you gasp exaggeratedly, successfully catching the couples attention. they break away from each other reluctantly and flushed, glaring at you.

“i knew you had somebody else!” you screamed, stomping away and wiping away invisible tears from the corners of your eyes. he trails quickly after you, standing beside you as you both hide behind a wall.

“are you kidding me? ugh!” you hear one of them shuffling, probably walking away from the other one.

“wait, baby! i swear, i have no idea who that was!” the other one pleaded, scrambling after his ‘baby’. his thick accent making it all the more funnier.

you leaned forward, clutching your stomach in laughter. he stared at you in slight disbelief before joining in on your giggling.

“what are you doing?”

uh oh, caught in the act.

you turn around, hiding the item behind your back. you grin widely but sheepishly. “what do you mean?” you smile innocently, stuffing the perfume bottle up your shirt.

tilting his head slightly, he raises a brow, skeptical. he walks over to you and hastily snatches the bottle from your hands.

“hey! i wasn’t done with that,” you whined, reaching for it but to no avail. he held it far from your reach, above his head. he tsked.

“i’ll give it back if you tell me what you were doing.”

you sighed, mumbling something so soft it was barely audible. “huh?” he nearly squeaked.

“i wanted to spray my perfume on your clothes so when we go out, people know you’re taken,” you grumbled. “but mostly because people are doing it on tiktok..”

he didn’t stop babying you that whole afternoon. and he posted a tiktok about it. (it went viral)

it was a nice noon. the birds were chirping, the grass seemed greener and your boyfriend was throwing a tantrum.

“i don’t wanna!”

“stop acting like a baby. its not that bad.”

“this isn’t fair.”

“what isn’t fair? you lost the bet, you have to do my dare,” you huff victoriously, smirking slightly.

he sighs, knowing there’s no way of convincing you to let him off. “fine, help me find one.”

“gladly,” you chirped, bouncing on the balls of your feet gently. your eyes scanned around the park before locking on someone. “right there,” you whispered, leaning to him and pointing at the person with your lips.

you shoo him to approach the person. he shakes his head and complies, walking backwards to cast you a pouty look to which you rolled your eyes at.

“excuse me?” he asked, approaching said persons line of sight. she smiled at him, waving, “hello! is there anything i can do for you?”

“i just wanted to tell you that your child is the chosen one,” he replied bluntly, pointing at her swollen stomach.

the woman blinked at him.

“child? i’m not pregnant.” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“oh.”

he ran away, dragging you with him before your knees buckled from your wheezing.

— (bllk) NAGI, SAE, RIN (genshin) DILUC, alhaitham (star rail) DAN HENG, jing yuan, BLADE (haikyuu) SUNA, TSUKI (KNY) GIYU, sanemi (ENCANTO) CARLOS, CAMILO () YOUR FAVES

@xyaehir 2023. This is my content, inspired or not. Do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated. <3

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #encanto #encanto x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr x reader #alhaitham x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr blade x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #demon slayer x reader #giyu tomioka x reader #fiction #fanfiction #carlos madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal x reader #gn reader #fluff #🎧 ; kuro’s works #sanemi shinazugawa x reader

[reallydumbdannyphantomaus]

The Apocalypse Club

(ao3) (art 1) (art 2)

Valerie, Kwan, and Paulina find out Danny's biggest secret while Amity Park is invaded by a strange new ghost. Now, all four of them have to work together to save the day. ...If they can stop fighting each other first.

Hey!!! this is my @invisobang piece for 2023!!!! it hits in at about 15k words and i got to work with @minnowmarsh and @trolithfoxyflint for the amazing art that comes with it! now you crazy kids have fun reading :D

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

“How,” Valerie said when she could talk again.

Danny shrugged and looked away. His face was tinted green, though whether from nausea or the swirling portal on the wall of the lab, she couldn’t say. Kwan didn’t look much better, ashen gray, hair sticking up in all directions from how much he’d been pulling it. Paulina’s eyes hadn’t left Danny’s face since…

Well, since.

“Is that the most important question right now?” he said, rummaging in the desk.

Yes, she wanted to scream. But it wasn’t, and she knew it wasn’t, just as much as she knew that he was avoiding the question.

But she was a professional. She’d worked with… Danny… before. She could put aside her personal feelings until they were safe.

“What’s the plan?”

“We need allies,” he said, still not looking at her. “The only place left to find them is the ghost zone.”

“What?” Paulina said. “You want us to—to go in there?”

“What about our families?” Kwan said.

“Isn’t it super dangerous in there?”

“Look, your families’ best chance is if we get help. And you don’t have to come with me, but I think it’s more dangerous to sit here and wait.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. How was she ever friends with these two? Here they were, whining about danger, when they were missing the most obvious issue with this plan. “Where are we going to get allies in the ghost zone? The whole thing’s just full of ghosts!”

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but for a moment his eyes flashed acid green. Her hand snapped to the ectogun on her hip. “You’ve worked with ghosts before, Val.”

“No, I’ve worked with you before, and who the hell knows what you are.”

The words spilled out her mouth like poison, acid. She didn’t know if she meant them or not, but she did notice his full body flinch.

(She filed away the sore spot for future reference.)

“Jesus, Val,” Kwan said, running his hand through his already messed up hair.

She looked away. “Sorry.”

“Look, I have allies in the ghost zone. Even some enemies who, push comes to shove, will help me out if only so they get to kill me themselves. I’ve never seen or heard of this ghost before, okay? If it’s this powerful, and I’ve never heard of it, that’s a really, really bad sign. We need all the help we can get and we can’t afford to be picky about where it comes from.”

Valerie stared harder at the wall. Her skin crawled at the thought of making nice with ghosts. “Easy for you to say.”

“I’m working with all of you, aren’t I?”

Valerie’s eyes snap to meet Paulina’s, then Kwan’s. She’d forgotten, somehow, that Paulina and Kwan (and she, once upon a time) had always treated him and his friends like garbage. She’d forgotten that for all that Phantom was her enemy, she’d once used his cousin (or whatever that relationship actually was, who the hell knows anymore) as bait to capture and torture him.

“Fine,” she said. Deliberately, she dropped her hand from her gun. “So how are we doing this?”

--

The ghost zone was a lot… greener than Paulina expected. It made sense, in retrospect: green was the color of ectoplasm after all, but in her head she always imagined it to have more of a Sam Manson aesthetic. Black. Maybe some purple. But deep and dark and depressing.

(Last time she saw Sam Manson, Manson’s eyes were totally black and she was clawing at Paulina’s face, spittle flying from her mouth. Not a totally unexpected reaction, she had to admit, but there was no intent or reason, just pure feral violence.)

“So,” she said, “where exactly are we going?”

“The Far Frozen,” Fenton said, hands white-knuckled on the steering. “I have friends there.”

“It, uh, sounds cold,” Kwan said. “I didn’t bring my jacket.” More like a swarm of zombie-football players had tried to drag him down by his collar and he’d only escaped by letting his letterman jacket slide off.

“Frostbite’ll have coats.”

“And what is Frostbite?” That was Valerie, still glaring at Fenton like he’d pissed in her Cheerios. Paulina really didn’t understand what her issue was. Sure, Paulina was shocked to find out that Fenton was her beloved ghost boy, but she was more awkward than angry. Valerie seemed to take the whole situation personally.

“He’s a yeti.”

“A yeti? A dead yeti?” Paulina crossed her arms. “Are you telling me that yetis are real?”

“Look, not all ghosts were once alive. Sometimes, they’re the ghosts of beliefs or ideals or stories. Things we used to think about and believe in. Pandora’s here, too, along with a lot of pantheons, but they won’t tell me if they were ever alive.” Fenton’s lips curled up in a little smile and his face softened. “I’ve been trying to weasel it out of them for months.”

They lapsed into another brief silence before Fenton spoke again.

“Look, if you have any other questions… now might be the best time. It’ll be a bit before we get to the Far Frozen, and I don’t know if we’ll have any time after that.”

Paulina had a million questions, but she couldn’t think of one she wanted to ask right now. How? Why? When? That could all wait until after the day was saved. Her nerves were still twitching and she dug her fingers into her wrist to stabilize, remember the now and not two hours ago, watching Star, black-eyed and snarling with one arm bent out of shape, leap for her throat. She said nothing.

“Are we… just gonna stay in the For Frozen?” Kwan said. “Like, while you save the world?”

“Far Frozen, and yeah. That was the plan.”

“I’m not staying in some frozen wasteland so you and your ghost buddies can fuck up saving the world.”

Paulina couldn’t help staring at Valerie. What the hell was she talking about? Phantom—Fenton—Danny had saved the world plenty of times before.

“I was talking about Kwan and Paulina, Val. I know you’d never stay out of it.”

Valerie curled her lip. “Just so we’re clear. I have to keep an eye on you, anyway.”

“What is your deal, girl?” Paulina said. “If you two are our best shot at saving the world, being pissy at each other isn’t going to help.”

“Stay out of it!”

“The world is ending! We don’t have time for you to be stubborn.”

Kwan shrank back at their raised voices. “Uh, I don’t think this is a good time to fight, either.”

“Of course you don’t. Since when do you ever think for yourself?”

“Hey!”

“Shut up! Just be quiet, all of you. Jesus.” Danny turned around to glare at them, his eyes flashing green. “Valerie and I have worked together before even though she hated me. We can do it again.”

Paulina wasn’t so sure about him using “hate” in the past tense there, but Valerie was nodding.

“I can put my personal feelings aside to save the world, and fuck you for thinking anything different. But then, I guess you never thought much of me, did you?”

“What are you—”

“Seriously? You have to ask?”

Paulina bit her lip. When Valerie’s dad lost his job, Valerie lost everything. Including her friends. Like Paulina. No, she thought after a moment, I suppose I don’t.

Danny groaned from the front. “I changed my mind. No more questions. Let’s just… be quiet.”

Paulina had to agree.

--

The Far Frozen was, in fact, cold.

Kwan shivered in just his black t-shirt, but truthfully, his letterman jacket would’ve only helped so much. This was a bitter cold, a deep-winter cold that took three blankets, a hot chocolate, and fuzzy socks to banish.

Kwan really hated the cold.

“Great One!” the yeti in front of them said, arms (one of flesh and fur, the other of ice and bone) spread wide like he was offering a hug. Was it some kind of yeti cultural thing?

Fenton jumped up and embraced the creature. Apparently, it was just an offer of a hug.

“What brings you to my domain?” the yeti said once he put Fenton down. “And with such strange company as well!”

Fenton rubbed the back of his neck. “We need your help, Frostbite.”

Kwan’s teeth started to chatter. Valerie and Paulina’s arms were dotted with gooseflesh, alongside his own. How was Fenton not fucking freezing?

“Can we have this conversation inside?” Paulina said, rubbing her arms.

“W-w-w-with jackets?” Kwan’s chattering teeth brought out a stutter. Embarrassing. “Ma-y-be a f-fire?”

“Of course!” the yeti said. “Your fragile human bodies require excess warmth to survive. Please, follow me.”

The yeti, who introduced himself as Frostbite, led them to a cave where they were each presented with a delightfully warm coat, almost thick enough to banish the cold from Kwan’s bones.

(Almost.)

Valerie spent the whole trek glaring at Frostbite like she expected him to turn around and start biting the second she took her eyes off of him. She kept one hand on her blaster the whole time. Kwan couldn’t imagine going through life with that kind of paranoia. It must be exhausting.

The cave itself was almost cozy. It was decorated, had furniture and artwork and books like it was someone’s office. With a jolt, Kwan realized that it was an office. Frostbite’s, most likely. On the wall, there was a portrait of Phantom (Fenton?) standing victorious. What the fuck.

“What’s with the whole ‘Great One’ thing, by the way?” Kwan said.

“It is demonstrative of our unending love and gratitude for the Great One, who saved us all from subjugation at the hands of the villainous Pariah Dark!”

Valerie snorted. “‘Villainous.’ Like you’re not.”

Frostbite tilted his head in confusion. Kwan hated to admit it, but it was kind of adorable. “I am unsure what your meaning is. I assure you that we denizens of the Far Frozen have no villainous aims with any friend of the Great One.”

“I’m not gullible enough to believe you.”

Frostbite opened his mouth to reply again, but Fenton cut him off.

“Just ignore her, Frostbite. You’re not going to change her mind and we don’t have time to argue. A new ghost is attacking Amity Park, and we need your help.”

--

It all happened so fast.

All four of them escaped by sheer luck. Kwan managed to dodge the football team and hide in the bleachers next to Paulina, who’d nearly been bitten by Star and Sam in the bathroom. Valerie put on the Red Huntress suit as soon as she realized what was happening, giving her some protection against the spreading infection. And Danny?

Well, Danny could fly.

Danny stumbled upon the other three by chance, checking through the school for anyone who’d managed to avoid the plague, though he didn’t have much hope. He’d found Kwan, Paulina, and Valerie—two useless people and one who absolutely hated him.

Still, he couldn’t leave them there, unprotected. He grabbed Paulina and Valerie hoisted Kwan on her hoverboard and they’d raced to FentonWorks.

He’d intended to stay in ghost form the whole time, but he hadn’t realized that the infected were still capable of reason, at least on some level. That their attacks weren’t mindless. That his mom could hit him with an ectogun that would short out his powers, however temporarily.

And now three new people know who he is.

Three new people who he can’t trust in the slightest.

(What if they tell people? His parents? The school? The Guys in White?)

But he can’t worry about that, because the world is ending.

“I see,” Frostbite said after Danny had explained the situation. “This is… worrisome. If it escaped—”

“It? Frostbite, do you know what this is?”

“Mm. It sounds like Pestilence.”

Danny frowned. “Like… pesto?”

Paulina scoffed and whacked Danny on the head. “No, idiot. Pestilence. Like disease and stuff.”

“Yes. Considered by certain branches of Christianity to be one of the four Horsemen that herald the apocalypse.”

“One of four? You mean there’s three other horse-guys?”

“Indeed. The belief in this specific end of days has largely died out in the modern day, so the Horsemen became ghosts. However, they were so dangerous, so suddenly, that we ghosts banded together three hundred years ago to seal them away. If one of them is out…”

“...then the others might be out, too.” Danny rubbed at his forehead. “This gets better and better. What are the other three?”

“War, Famine, and Death,” Paulina said, counting them off on her fingers. Valerie raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Everyone knows that.”

“You are correct, Delicate One.”

“Um, my name’s Paulina.”

“None of those sound good.” Kwan scratched his head. “Also, why is Death separate? Don’t War and Famine and Pestilence all kill people? Does Death extra kill people or something?”

Frostbite shrugged. “How should I know? I’m already dead.”

“Can you be dead if you were never alive?”

“In any event,” Frostbite said, “your best chance is to put Pestilence back before any of the others break free.”

“And how are we supposed to do that, ghost? We barely escaped in the first place!”

Valerie had a point: they knew what they were fighting, now, but it didn’t solve the problem of we can’t beat this guy. Danny rubbed his temples. Maybe if he could get Skulker to work with them, Skulker would help convince the rest of the Ghost Zone and they might actually have a shot.

“Your best chance is finding the Panacea.”

Danny scrunched his eyebrows. “The what?”

“Panacea is, like, a mythical elixir thing that can heal any disease.” Danny, Kwan, and Valerie stared at Paulina, who was tapping on her phone. She looked up at them and rolled her eyes. “What? Everyone knows that.”

“Okay, so where’s this Panaderia at?” Valerie said.

“Patience, Suspicious One. Allow me to explain.”

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“The Panacea is hidden in the far reaches of the Ghost Zone, near Pariah’s Keep.” Frostbite pulled out the Infi-Map from his desk and rolled it out on the desk. “Legend tells that Pariah wanted it for himself, but could never get through its protections.”

“Protections? Like—ghosts and shit?”

“Not quite. The story goes that there are three trials one must overcome to obtain the Panacea. The first is a trial of courage. The second is a trial of compassion. And the third is a trial of truth.”

Valerie threw her hands up in the air. “What the hell does any of that mean?”

“The legend does not specify.”

“Of course,” Paulina said, “because when the world’s at stake, you want as much ambiguity as possible.”

“Quite.”

Courage, compassion, and truth. Well, Danny was decently brave. He spent half his time fighting ghosts, at least, and protecting people. It had to count for something. Compassion… he could probably work on that part, but he did care about people. That’s why he protected them. Truth?

That was a little stickier.

He lied, all the time. It was for a good reason, but he wasn’t sure the trials would see it that way. Maybe he would just have to tell the truth in the moment? Ugh, this whole thing was so complicated.

Maybe Valerie would do better at the truth thing. Though, she also had a secret identity. Whatever. They’d figure it out.

Lost in his thoughts, Danny didn’t notice Valerie approaching him until her hand wrapped around his arm and she pulled him away.

“Woah, what are you—” Danny squeezed his eyes shut as he was yanked back into the bright light of the outside. The snow sparkled in the glow that permeated the Ghost Zone almost like sunlight, but half as warm.

“If you and I are going to do this, we should have a plan.”

“A plan for what? We don’t even know what these trials will look like.”

Valerie’s hand tightened around his bicep. “So you just want to fly in blind? Hide behind me and let me figure it out so you can swoop in and ‘save the day’ or some bullshit?”

“That is not remotely what I—”

“Save it! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. For years. And I—I actually thought that you cared about me, which is the really stupid part.”

“I do care about you, Val.” Danny reached for her arm and she flinched back. He sighed and stared at the ground.

“No, you don’t. You can’t. Ghosts don’t care about anything or anyone. You just like the attention. You like the praise. You may have everyone else fooled but I see what you are. No more tricks, Phantom.”

Danny choked out a laugh. “And you wonder why I lied to you.”

Valerie sneered. “No, actually. It all makes perfect sense, ghost.”

His eyes stung, which was stupid. They really didn’t have time for him to go cry in a corner because Valerie didn’t like him. But his feelings didn’t care about the facts, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said, and he tried to ignore how his voice cracked. “Let’s just get through this.”

“Yeah,” Valerie said. “Let’s get through this and then never talk to each other again.”

He’d really thought he could talk to her, if she ever found out. He’d really thought he could convince her. That hurt the most, he realized: he’d always known she’d be mad, but after what happened with Dani, there should’ve been room for them to be friends as Valerie and Danny and as Red Huntress and Phantom.

He was the stupid one, it turned out.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

Valerie turned away. “It is what I want.”

“Okay.”

They fell into awkward silence.

“So—”

Distant screaming cut Danny off.

Somewhere along the way, wires had gotten crossed in Danny’s brain. Screams of terror and pain were usually a sign that people should stay away. If some did get closer, it was usually out of curiosity and panic would take over once that curiosity was sated. Danny, of course, ran straight for the danger every time.

So he wasn’t surprised, exactly, when one of the yetis, eyes dripping black, lunged for him. He’d run into enough fights that ducking out of the way of her claws was second nature. Beside him, Valerie blasted the infected yeti away. Of course. Valerie was just like him: she ran into danger.

“We need to get out of here!” She fired again at another yeti, snarling in the snow.

Danny reached for the electric cold in his chest, but it was still weak and flickering from the gun his mom had used. He was powerless.

“Danny!” Before he could blink, something slammed into him and he was speeding away from the yetis on Valerie’s jetboard.

“Wait—Wait!” Struggling to stand on a fast, open-air vehicle, he pulled himself up using Valerie’s shoulder and she shot him a withering glare. “We can’t just leave them there!”

“Us getting infected doesn’t help anyone, and you trying to play hero to get on my good side won’t work anyway.”

“I’m not—” The jetboard tilted to avoid a leaping yeti. “Why won’t you listen—”

“I did listen to you! And you lied. So I’m done with that.”

Valerie angled down to the cave entrance where Kwan, Paulina, and Frostbite were and jerked to a stop. Danny couldn’t stop his momentum and tumbled off onto the floor of the cave, landing at Paulina’s feet.

“Um, hi?” Paulina said.

“We have a problem,” Valerie said.

--

Apparently the “problem” was a horde of zombie yetis right on Valerie and Danny’s tail. Paulina thought “problem” was underselling it a bit.

One black-eyed yeti burst through the opening, only for Frostbite to slam his flesh arm into it, knocking it into another oncoming yeti. He then hit a panel on the wall and sealed the cave shut. Panting, he lumbered over to Danny, green goo staining his pristine white fur, grabbed the map-thing off the desk, and thrust it into Danny’s arms.

“Great One and friends, you must take the Infi-Map and find the Panacea.” The yeti looked down at the goo (his blood?) and groaned in pain. “I fear I shall soon turn as well.”

“Frostbite…” Danny said, reaching out one hand like he wanted to comfort him. And wasn’t it weird, to think of a ghost needing comfort?

“Great One, you do not have time to worry about me. Help me by bringing back the Panacea and saving us all. You must go now, before I lose my rationality and attack you as well.”

Danny squeezed his eyes like he was staving off tears. “Okay. I—okay. I’m sorry.”

Paulina felt bad for the dork (hero), really, but they so didn’t have time for this. She latched onto his arm and yanked him away from Frostbite, who was starting to snarl. “Thank you, Mr. Frostbite,” she said. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Everybody hang on,” Danny said, opening the map. Paulina tightened her grip as Valerie and Kwan grabbed on. “Take us to the Panacea.”

Frostbite jumped at them, teeth bared, and the map whisked them away in a green light. Paulina wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this was not it. The sudden acceleration stole a scream from her throat, and the rush of air brought tears to her eyes. The last thing she saw was Frostbite’s icy arm, outstretched, and then she could see nothing but motion.

There was nothing to do but hang on for dear life, then all of a sudden they were standing again, in a cavernous hall. Paulina wobbled on her feet, then vomited.

A hand rubbed at her back, and she turned to see Kwan, awkward half-smile on his face. “You okay?”

The hall was massive and crumbling, stone pillars in pieces. A mosaic pattern tiled the floor, and she looked up to see a perfect reflection in the roof, except for a couple of holes where the swirling Ghost Zone peeked through.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Except for, you know.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah, that.” She bent over and spat a couple times, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. She’d lost her water bottle sometime in the multiple life threatening situations they’d been in in the past 4 or so hours, so saliva was her best option. “We weren’t supposed to be here. We were supposed to just sit there in that frozen wasteland and be safe. I can’t do this, Kwan.”

“But you have to, now,” Valerie said. Her voice was firm, but not unkind. “We’re all here, and there’s no half-assing this like you half-ass school, alright?”

“Excuse you?”

“We both know you could do just fine in school if you tried, Polly! You’re smart, girl. And we need smart on this mission, not smart trying to be stupid.”

Paulina stared for just a moment, then laughed. “Girl, that was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard.”

Valerie rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile. “At least it was a compliment.”

“Setting our bar real low here, huh?”

“Paulina, when my dad lost his job, you all dumped me as soon as you heard. I lost everything, and then I lost all my friends. You’re damn lucky I’m not just cussing you out.”

The words were almost humorous, but there was a bite to Valerie’s tone now. Paulina couldn’t blame her.

“Listen, I wanted to say—”

“Guys!” Danny's voice echoed through the chamber. “I found something!”

Paulina swore as Valerie and Kwan both ran over to where Danny stood in front of a massive double door.

“Is that—”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “I think it’s the entrance. The trials are probably through here.”

“So,” Kwan said, pushing on the giant stone doors, “how do we—”

As he spoke, the doors lit up and slowly, slowly, rumbled open.

“Huh,” Kwan said.

It was dark inside. The glow of the Ghost Zone seemed to come to a complete halt, swallowed by whatever was beyond the threshold.

Paulina didn’t like it.

“Let’s all go through together,” Danny said.

Paulina nodded, grabbing Danny and Kwan. She couldn’t speak, her mouth suddenly dry. Why was she here? She wasn’t ready for something like this. She couldn’t save the world! Oh god, she needed to get out of here—

As one, they stepped through the door.

--

Kwan blinked.

“What?”

It was the Casper High cafeteria, except the Casper High cafeteria should be overrun with Pestilence’s zombies right now. But there was Dash and Paulina and Star (wasn’t Paulina back—where—what—what… day was it? Tuesday? Right, right. They had an essay due in Lancer’s class. Of course. Kwan had stayed up all night writing about… writing about…)

“Dude!” Dash said, waving Kwan over. “You ready to pummel Brantford tonight?” The last part of his sentence became a shout, directed at the whole cafeteria. Students applauded. Dash stood with one leg on his seat and one on the table, a true showman. Over in the corner, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley rolled their eyes. Dash threw his milk carton and beaned Fenton (Danny?) in the head. Milk splashed down his head.

Something twisted in Kwan’s gut.

Dash let out a roar and ripped off his shirt, tearing it in half. The cafeteria screamed in approval.

Kwan grinned up at Dash. For all his flaws, Kwan loved this guy.

(black, black blood dripping from his mouth and eyes, Dash snarling, reaching for Kwan—)

Kwan jerked back and tore his eyes away. Dash didn’t notice as his best friend looked for the exit. Kwan’s heart pounded. It wasn’t real. Not real. Just a bad dream. Or was this…?

In the background, Valerie (his friend? not his friend? no, no, they’d dropped her because she’d lost everything, right? but no, no that was cruel, too cruel even for Dash and Paulina, that couldn’t be right) was sneaking out the door just as Danny Fenton gasped and rushed in the same direction.

Something wasn’t right.

“Hey dude,” Kwan said, “I gotta run to the bathroom.”

Dash didn’t acknowledge him. He was leading the cafeteria in the Casper High fight song.

Kwan ran after Valerie and Fenton (Danny), bursting through the cafeteria doors just in time to see them turn the corner. “Wait!” he said, sprinting toward their shadows. Rounding the corner, he saw the Red Huntress and Danny Phantom (Valerie and Fenton—Danny, Danny, it’s Danny, Danny wants to be called his name, remember that he has to remember that—it was Valerie and Danny behind the heroes, he knew that, though he wasn’t sure how he knew) fighting a ghost.

It was massive and ugly, all claws and teeth and glowing fur. Kwan couldn’t see any eyes, but he’d learned after years of dealing with ghosts that that didn’t necessarily mean that it couldn’t see. It had six legs and two jaws that opened in concert to let out an earsplitting screech.

Glowing green spittle flew out of its unholy maw and landed on Kwan’s letterman jacket. Gross.

The ghost slammed Danny into a locker with one leg and used another to pin Valerie to the ground. It lowered its face to Valerie’s, ready to take a taste.

“Hey!” Kwan said, throwing the first thing he could grab—his phone—at the ghost. It bounced harmlessly off its head, but startled the ghost enough that Valerie was able to slip out of its hold and Danny was able to knock it down. A flash of light from Danny’s thermos, and the ghost was gone.

“Are you okay?” Kwan said. Valerie’s suit retracted and Danny transformed back into Fenton. Both of them were bruised, Danny cradling his ribs, but they were upright.

“We’re fine,” Valerie said with a glare.

“Hey,” Kwan said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Yeah, right.” Danny snorted and looked away. Kwan could still see milk in his hair.

Kwan frowned. “Look, I know it wasn’t much, but I’m just a guy! I did what I could!”

“Yeah, you did. Probably saved our lives with that phone.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You only care because we’re heroes!” Valerie got in his face so he could clearly see the bruise lining her cheek. “You wouldn’t care if we were hurt because your bestie decided he wanted a punching bag. Helping the Red Huntress and Danny Phantom isn’t a risk to you. It makes you a hero! You’re so cool for helping to save the day. But you’d never help Valerie and Danny because what if someone saw ?”

“That’s not…”

“Face it, Kwan. You’re a coward. Always will be.”

Then they were gone, and Kwan was alone in the middle of a destroyed hallway.

--

“Kwan,” Dash said, “we need you to be on your a-game for this. They’ve got a real beast on their D-line, and you’re the only one with a chance of keeping him off me. I don’t wanna spend the whole game with my ass on the grass, so I’m counting on you, okay?”

Kwan blinked. They were huddled on the field, in full pads. Dash was giving the pre-game directions. It was gametime. Wasn’t it lunchtime? Or… was he… what?

“Kwan!”

“Uh, yeah! Yes. I’ve got it. Big guy, coming right at me. Yep.”

Was he going crazy? Something was wrong. Something other than what Valerie and Danny had said to him.

(And it was wrong, it had to be. He wasn’t a coward. He faced scary stuff all the time—a hazard of living in Amity Park. He couldn’t be a coward.)

The nameless d-lineman stared him down, eyes black as pitch behind the grill of his helmet. Kwan took a deep breath as he lined up against him. He could do this. This was easy. He was made for this.

A flash of green in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head just as Dash hiked the ball, and his mark blew right past him, laying Dash on the ground while Kwan stood, dumbly staring at the green he knew had to signal another ghost attack.

“Kwan!” Dash ignored the hand offered by one of the other offensive linemen. “What the hell, dude?”

Kwan jerked back. “What?” He took in the scene: Dash, with a clump of grass stuck in his helmet and dirt on his jersey. The ball, being moved backward by the referee. His teammates, glaring at him. “Oh. Oh, sorry. Just—I think there’s a ghost over there?” He pointed at the green light.

“So?” Dash said. “There’s always a ghost. Leave it for Huntress or Phantom to deal with. We’ve got a game!”

“Yeah. Yeah!” Danny and Valerie could totally handle it. They were heroes. It’s what they did. And football was what Kwan did. Division of labor and all that stuff.

And the thing is that Kwan was really good at football. He was the best left tackle in the state, easy. His coach said he could be the next Tony Boselli—though, hopefully without the injuries. With his mind on the game, no one got even close to Dash before he’d thrown the ball.

The forest glowed again. Kwan ignored it. There were eight minutes left on the clock for the second quarter.

A piercing scream floated over the field. Kwan turned to see Valerie, in her Red Huntress gear, slam into the ground head-first before being dragged back into the woods like a limp puppet.

“Oh shit.” This was bad. Valerie was hurt, bad. She wasn’t half-ghost like Danny. She was just a person. She needed medical care, and fast.

Could Kwan help?

Should Kwan help?

Kwan shook his head. Head injuries were no joke; he’d heard it from Coach often enough. Valerie needed help, and she needed it now. There was no time to wait for someone else to realize the problem.

He turned to leave the field.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dash said, catching his arm just as he reached the sideline.

“She’s hurt,” Kwan said. “She needs help.”

“We have a fucking game to play.” Dash’s fingers curled in the grill of Kwan’s helmet and jerking him around so their helmets clacked together. This close, Kwan could see the faint line of Dash’s eyelashes, the bright blue of his eyes. He thought about apologizing. He thought about kissing him.

How long had he been in love with his best friend? More importantly, how long had he let his best friend be an asshole because he loved him?

“I’m an idiot,” Kwan said.

“You don’t hear me arguing! Now get back on the damn field.”

“No.” Kwan almost continued, almost listed everything wrong with Dash, all the times he’d put everyone else around him down, all the people he’d hurt, how he’d hurt Kwan, even, but Dash would never, ever hear him. He knew that now. “I’m outta here,” he said instead, ripping off his helmet and sprinting toward where he’d last seen Valerie and Danny.

The world vanished.

Kwan blinked, and he was back in the chamber, staring at Valerie, Danny, and Paulina. “A test of courage…” he said to himself. 

It was just like the room they first came into: a little more together, more whole, but otherwise almost identical. Across the room was another massive set of double doors. He turned around and saw the door, the first chamber beyond it. He’d barely stepped inside. It couldn’t have been more than a second or two.

“Yeah,” Valerie said with an eye roll, “that’s what we’ve been say—”

Kwan cut her off by sweeping her up in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry that I never stuck up for you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I was too scared to help you even when I knew it was wrong.”

Valerie froze, stiff in his arms. “What?”

“You were right, this whole time. I was a coward and a jerk and I’m sorry.”

Kwan could feel Danny and Paulina’s eyes on him, but for right now, all his focus was on Valerie.

“What the hell are you—”

“I was a really terrible friend to you. We all were. You were hurting and we all made it worse.”

Valerie pulled back. “You’re serious. This… you mean this.”

“Yeah. I mean it more than anything I’ve ever said to you before.

“You—do you think I’ll forgive you? Just like that?”

Kwan let her go. “No. You always could hold a grudge.” He looked her in the eye. “I still needed to say it.”

Valerie nodded, a rough jerk of her head. “Okay. Just so we’re clear. Not forgiven.” She looked off-balance and confused. It figured, since Kwan had very much just dropped this on her with no warning. Whatever vision he’d received, it seemed like it was limited to him and only him.

“That’s okay. Let me know if it changes?”

Valerie stared at him for a long moment, brow furrowed, before it smoothed and one corner of her lips curled in a smile. “Whatever.”

Kwan grinned. “I’ll get there.”

Paulina coughed. “Uh, not to break up a tender moment, but can we save it for after we get the magic potion?”

“Unfortunately, Paulina’s right,” Danny said. “Not that this isn’t great, but we need to figure out the test of courage. We’re running out of time.”

Kwan was pretty sure he’d already seen it, but he didn’t even know where to begin with explaining. Instead, he said, “Danny! You, too! I was also a jerk to you, when you didn’t deserve it and I knew you didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry about that. I wanted to be liked but I—”

“Woah woah woah,” Danny said. “I… appreciate it, but we really don’t have the time right now, dude.”

“No. No, see, this is exactly the time. I think this is my test, okay? Well, some of it. Part two, or whatever. Part one was this weird vision thing that I had to go through like some kinda fucked up dream. And I think part two is—well, bringing it into the real world.” Obviously, he couldn’t bring the ghost attack and the football game into this real world, but realizing he was wrong? Taking responsibility?

He could do that.

“How is apologizing to us a test of courage?” Danny said, head tilted in confusion.

“I was scared of… something really fucking dumb, now that I think about it. And I hurt people because of it.” Kwan glanced at Paulina, who was looking anywhere but his face. “I’m not going to let it control me anymore. And I’m sorry that I ever did.”

Silence for a moment, like the room was holding its breath, then the entire chamber began to shake. The doors at the end of the room swung open and revealed another pitch black unknown beyond them.

“Wait. That was it?” Paulina said. “You’re telling me the Ghost King couldn’t get through these trials, but Kwan did it by saying I’m sorry?”

“Woo!” Kwan said, pumping his fists in the air. Take that, Mr. Lancer’s final exam. Who was going to achieve nothing in life now? Not Kwan, he passed the Trial of Courage. Official and capitalized. Helping to save the world and all that shit.

“Well, let’s not look this particular gift horse in the mouth. Are we all ready for the next chamber?” Danny said.

Paulina coughed. “Hang on, does anyone have a breath mint? My mouth still tastes nasty.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kwan fished in his pocket and held out a stick of gum.

“Thanks.”

“Ooh, can I have some?” Danny said.

“Sure, dude!” He grabbed three more sticks of gum, handed on to Danny, who grinned, stuck one in his mouth, and held out the last one for Valerie. “Val? You want in on this?”

Valerie stared at the gum like she thought it might bite her. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. She took the gum with her thumb and forefinger, delicately. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s get a move on.”

As they headed for the inky blackness at the far end of the room, Kwan felt something grab his arm. He whirled around to see Danny, hand curled around Kwan’s elbow.

“Thank you,” Danny said, “for, y’know.”

“The gum?”

“No. Well, yes, but that’s not—I meant for apologizing.”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah. Honestly, should have done it forever ago. Just kept coming up with excuses, y’know?” Kwan laughed. “An apology was really the bare minimum.”

Danny let go of his arm and started walking again. “You’d be surprised. I can’t remember the last time anyone apologized for hurting me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Dude, that’s messed—”

They crossed the threshold.

--

Paulina was much more confident going into the next chamber. These trials were easy! If all Kwan had to do was apologize, then compassion was probably something like saving a kitten and truth was something like—well, she was less sure about that one. Maybe just telling a secret? Or something?

Except—something was different. Last time, they’d walked in and immediately the chamber had brightened. Kwan apparently had some weird vision as part of his trial, of course, but none of that happened.

Instead, it was still pitch black, and she could no longer feel Valerie’s arm where she’d latched on, or Kwan’s hand. “Guys?” she said, and her voice was swallowed by the void. “Hello?”

“—see her haircut?—”

“—the look on his—”

“—honestly thought I liked her!”

Paulina’s voice, first a whisper, then louder and louder until she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. Her laughter, shrill and piercing, reverberated through the space. She pressed her hands over her ears, but it did nothing to block out the noise. Her head started to pound and hot tears leaked out of her eyes.

“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She was sure she yelled the words, but she still couldn’t hear over her own laughter.

“Why? Why should I stop?”

“It hurts. It hurts!”

“Aw, but that’s never stopped you before!”

It was so loud. A sudden, sharp pain in her ear and she could feel warm liquid on the hand covering it.

“Please! Please! I’ll do anything!”

Suddenly, silence. Paulina fell to the floor with relief. She pulled her hands away from her head; the right one was wet and smelled of metal. Liquid dripped from her ear—had it started to bleed?

“Anything?”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

“Entertain me!”

“I—what?”

In front of her, stark against the black of the room, Valerie appeared, then Danny, then Mikey, then Sam Manson, then Tucker Foley, more and more and more of her classmates, standing and blinking in confusion at her.

But she was with Valerie and—or was she? But Manson was definitely not—this couldn’t be real. Was this real? She stared at her hand. Was she real?

“Paulina?” Valerie said. She sounded like she was underwater. The black of the room turned into a hallway. Casper High. It was—Friday. There was a football game she had to cheer for. She needed total focus for that. If only the stupid voice would leave her alone.

“I said entertain me!”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Valerie stared at her. “It’s your name, girl. Are you okay?”

“Make jokes! Like you always do. I gave you your material and everything!”

Material? Paulina looked at the crowd, and realized that all of them were… well, losers. The voice just wanted her to make fun of them?

Nothing she hadn’t done before.

“I’m better than you, apparently,” Paulina said, ignoring the pit in her stomach. “What were you thinking with that outfit?” It was a dumb, dumb comment. Low effort. It was just—in that moment, Paulina couldn’t think of anything to mock. Nothing about Valerie seemed worth jeering at.

Valerie looked down at her—admittedly, fine—shirt and frowned. “Jesus. What is your prob—your ear’s bleeding!”

Sure enough, pus and blood painted the palm of Paulina’s hand, and she could still feel something rolling down her neck.

(“Still”? When did this happen?)

“We need to get you to the nurse’s office,” Manson said, crouching down beside her. Why was Paulina on the floor?

“Oh,” she said. Manson offered her a hand up, and she took it. “Thank you. Sorry, Valerie. Your shirt’s fine.”

A piercing screech, metal on metal, filled the air. Paulina doubled over, hands back over her ears.

“That wasn’t funny, Polly!”

She could feel hands on her arms, but her eyes were squeezed shut and she could hear nothing but the voice and its (her) hideous laughter.

“You just want me to be mean!”

“Duh! Mean is funny, right?”

Paulina opened her eyes just enough to see Valerie, Manson, Foley, and Danny in front of her, concern in the lines of their faces. Danny’s mouth was moving.

“Look! It’s the little tech weirdo. He names all his phones. Like, unironically.” Foley stood up and directed other students away. Danny moved past her to do the same on the other side of the hallway. “Or the ghost kid. His parents were already freaks, and now he’s an extra special kind of freak. Easy money.”

“Please. Please just stop.”

“Entertain me, and I will. Tit-for-tat, babe.”

Paulina felt a sob jump out of her throat. Why wasn’t she just doing it? It hurt so bad. She’d do anything for it to stop.

So why wasn’t she doing this?

“I don’t want to!” she wailed. What she must sound like. What she must look like. Surrounded by people who had every reason to hate her, bleeding and crying and talking to nothing. “Pick something else!”

“But you do it all the time.”

“I change my mind, then!”

Was it that simple? All along? Could she just—change her mind? Be a better person?

“No you don’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt people anymore!”

The noise, somehow, got louder. Paulina vomited. Something wet trickled from her other ear. She wanted this to end. But she didn’t want to hurt people to do it. Why did she only get two options?

“So you’ll get hurt instead?”

“No!” She curled in on herself, falling back to her knees and closing her eyes again. “You’re choosing to hurt me. You could choose not to!”

“And, what? That’ll make it better? You’ll forgive me and we’ll be best friends?”

If Paulina could think clearly, if she could do anything beyond speak the first thing that sprung to her lips, she might have lied. She might have said “Of course I’ll forgive you” so the stupid voice might listen to her. This, however, was not a choice she had the brainpower to make right now.

Instead, she said: “Of course not! You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Then why should I?”

“Because I’m a person and it hurts!”

“You’re a little late to that realization, querida. Wasn’t Valerie a person when you ditched her? Do you think you can be Valerie’s friend again after this? That you can prove yourself to her or something?”

“I can’t fix it! But I can stop making it worse!”

The noise stopped. Blessed silence returned.

Paulina looked up through tear-blurred eyes and saw Valerie, Danny, and Kwan crouched over her. She couldn’t hear past the ringing in her ears

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her throat ached. She must have been yelling, before. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The exhaustion hit her all at once. Her ears pulsed with pain as she continued to babble apologies. The ground shook beneath her and Kwan caught her before she could topple over. A hand rubbed at her back, soothing circles, and she curled into Kwan’s chest.

“Think ‘m gon’ sleep, now, mkay?” she said, and then she was out.

--

“Holy shit,” Danny said, collapsing next to Paulina and Kwan and brushing the hair out of her face. “Is she—is she okay?”

Kwan held his fingers over her wrists. “I think so. Her ears are bleeding, though.”

“What happened?” Valerie said. “Your trial wasn’t anything like this!”

“I don’t know! It’s not like I’m an expert.”

“Stop yelling,” Paulina said, shifting against Kwan’s chest. “I can’t really hear you anyway.”

“Polly!” Kwan said, naked relief on his face. “Are you okay?”

Paulina pointed to her ears. “I can’t hear you, querido. My ears—it was really loud. In the trial.”

Dried blood still stained her neck. Danny had a feeling that “really loud” was an understatement.

In halting sentences, Paulina explained her trial. The voice, the laughter, the deal for making the pain stop. Danny was impressed; he wasn’t sure he would have withstood it, in her position. He could understand, now, how Pariah wouldn’t have made it through the trials.

They asked questions throughout, which Paulina couldn’t hear. It got a little better when they spoke slower and enunciated, but it would be a struggle until her ears healed, Danny feared.

“Let’s go over what we know,” Danny said, counting off on his fingers. “One, in both of the trials, only one person was picked to do the trial. Two, neither of you remembered it was a trial while it was happening, right?”

Kwan and Paulina both shook their heads, though Paulina winced as she did it. “It felt real,” Kwan said. “Like—I knew something was wrong, but whenever I tried to focus on that wrongness, it vanished.”

“I knew it was a trial at first,” Paulina said, throat scratchy, “but when it got too loud, I couldn’t really think straight. Then I was in school, and I completely forgot about the trial thing, even though the noise was still there. I forgot it wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Danny wanted to apologize to Paulina, for getting her involved in this, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t exactly appreciate it. She looked rough. Dried tear-streaks on her face that she hadn’t wiped off yet, hair a mess like she tried to rip it out, blood trails from her ears. They were pretty sure she’d burst both eardrums during her trial.

(It was a little over-the-top, Danny thought, to torture someone in a trial of compassion. Paulina had her flaws, sure, but that didn’t mean she needed to be hurt to learn a lesson. Kwan’s trial had really lulled them all into a false sense of security.)

(He could see, now, why Pariah Dark could never make it through.)

“Three, the trials seem to pick people on purpose.” His eyes slid over to Kwan and Paulina. “I think it picks based on those who… struggle the most with the thing the trial is all about.”

“Huh?” Paulina said. Right. She could only kind of hear right now.

“He said the trials picked us because I’m a coward and you’re mean.”

Danny winced. “That’s not—”

“Oh. Well, duh.”

“So, if truth’s next, it’ll be you, right?” Valerie said, looking Danny up and down.

“Hey!”

“You’re the one with the big secrets here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget that you have a secret identity, too?” Danny felt like Valerie was probably right, all things considered. His secret was, ultimately, way bigger than hers.

Still, she was getting on his nerves. He’d known she had a grudge against ghosts, especially him, but this was getting ridiculous. For fuck’s sake, she’d worked better with him on Skulker’s island, when she thought he was a full ghost.

“No, but my dad knows all about it. And so did you, apparently, though you lied about that, too.”

“Oh, wow, two whole people. Except that I told your dad, not you. And you never told me anything! I happened to find out on my own.”

“Uh, guys?” Kwan said.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “Okay, yeah. But we broke up because I didn’t want to endanger you. And now it turns out you can take care of yourself just fine!”

“Oh, so if you knew I was half dead, we’d still be together? That’s my fault now?”

“Of course we wouldn’t. But I lied to you to protect you. You lied to me to protect yourself!”

“Yeah! I did! Now think for, like, two seconds about what I needed protection from!”

“Guys!” Kwan said. “Could you stop?”

“You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it will be me. But not because I lie more than you. Maybe these tests are meant for humans only.”

Danny felt his eyes flash green. “So that’s what this is about? You hate me because I’m a freak?”

“I hate you because—”

“Okay!” Kwan said, jumping between them. “I think this conversation needs to stop immediately, before you both say… even more things you will regret. Valerie, dude, I know we’re just now trying to maybe be friends again, but as your maybe-future friend: you’ve gotta lay off.”

Danny stared and blinked at Kwan a couple times. Was Kwan… defending him?

“You’re taking his side?”

“Yeah, I am. I think you both need to cool down, but you’re wrong about this. And I think you know it, too.”

Valerie huffed. “I’m not wrong.”

Danny was so, so tired. “Okay.” He turned away and walked over to Paulina, who was still on the ground, and offered her a hand.

She stared up at him before grabbing on and pulling herself up. “She is wrong. She’s just… stubborn.”

Danny sighed. “You heard all that?”

“Bits and pieces. I got the gist. Hey, do you think the Panacea will fix my ears?” Danny opened his mouth to reply, but Paulina kept talking. “Never mind. What I mean is: sorry you had to hear that. I know you care about her, you know? It must really suck to hear this stuff from her in particular.”

“Yeah, I knew she wouldn’t take it well, but I didn’t think she’d take it this badly. I mean, she was okay with Danielle!”

“I’ll be real with you, I only caught like half of that, but, uh, who’s Danielle?”

Oh, duh. Danny smacked himself in the face. “Right, sorry. Danielle’s my half-ghost cousin. Well, we call each other cousins, but technically she’s my clone. She’s her own person, and all that but—yeah. Anyway, the guy who cloned her is also a giant asshole and he was planning to melt her down to study her remains, but Valerie helped me save her.” This time, he spoke a bit louder, and made sure to enunciate so Paulina could try to read his lips too.

“Dude. You have a clone?”

“Yeah.”

“Someone cloned you?”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck?”

Danny laughed. “Yeah, that’s about right. He’s a real fruitloop, that Vlad.”

“Hang on—not Vlad Masters?”

Danny laughed harder. “Yep!”

“What the fuck, babe!”

“You’re telling me.”

“Why?”

Danny started to answer, then thought better of it. It was, after all, a long story, and he had a feeling that, although she was great at faking it, Paulina was still only catching parts of what he said. “I’ll tell you when your ears are better,” he said, tugging on his own then pointing at hers to make his point clearer.

Paulina rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that! This is some juicy, juicy gossip”—Danny flashed her a panicked look—“that I will take to my grave and never speak of again.”

Paulina kept talking as they rejoined Kwan and Valerie. Mostly jokes about how he should change his ghostly outfit (“Seriously, querido, you’d look great in a crop-top!”) or about him out-gothing Sam (“You went and died! Manson will never be that hardcore.”).

Maybe he and Paulina could be friends after this.

--

Valerie was sure she was right.

She was sure she was right as she and Kwan waited in stony silence for Paulina and—for the others to join them. She was sure she was right as they walked in a group, the other three linking arms while she refused Kwan’s hand. She was sure she was right as they crossed into the black.

She was less sure when the room stayed dark.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said. She worried at her lip for a moment, then yelled, “I’m the Red Huntress! Is that the truth this thing wants?”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny said. “I already know that, Val.”

Valerie grinned, just a little. It wasn’t like anyone could see her, and the fact that he was here, too? Vindicating. “Well, look at that. It’s both of us!”

“Yeah? It’s both of us. Together. In some strange room. In the dark.”

“Okay, well I said my big truth. You say yours.”

“What? Why?”

“We need to get through this trial, dumbass!”

“Trial?”

“Yeah, the truth trial. Obviously we’re both in it—wait. You don’t know it’s a trial! Ha, then this is totally your trial and I just got pulled in for… reasons. I knew it!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why is it so dark? Where are we?”

Valerie waved him off, though he couldn’t see it. “Oh, that’s not important. What is important is that you need to tell the truth. Probably to me, which is why I’m here.” Yeah, that made sense. He needed to tell the truth about how he’d hurt her, how he’d hurt everyone, how he’d played hero to earn his fawning fans. He needed to stop pretending to be something he wasn’t. And she was here because she deserved to hear it directly from him.

“What truth? Again, Val, what are you talking about?”

“Stop calling me Val. We’re not friends.”

“What do you—”

“Did the trial make you forget? I know you’re a ghost.”

“Oh.”

“I destroy ghosts.”

“But… But I’m also a human.”

“You’re a liar, is what you are.”

“For good reason.”

“No, I’m a liar for good reason. You’re just a coward!”

There was a long moment of silence where Valerie could only hear her own heaving breaths. Then, softly: “Wouldn’t you be?”

“No!”

“Really? You wouldn’t be the slightest bit afraid that people would try to kill you?”

“No one would kill you.”

“You said you know I’m a ghost and then immediately threatened to destroy me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Oh? How was I supposed to take ‘I destroy ghosts’ then? A joke?”

“Stop trying to turn this around on me. You’re the one who needs to tell the truth!”

“What truth? You already know the secret!”

“I’m talking about the rest of it! How you lie and manipulate people, how you fake being a hero, how you ruined my life!”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“Gah! It’s impossible to talk to you about this shit.” There was a rustling sound, like he was walking away.

“Hang on! You can’t walk away; you still need to complete your trial!” She ran to where she heard him moving, tripped, and then she was falling, falling, falling…

…and landing with a thud in the same black void.

“She’s a ghost! And I destroy ghosts.”

“But she’s also a human!”

Was that… her? Back when they had been talking about Danielle. Danielle, who was human and ghost and just a little girl. Valerie and—they had saved her from Vlad, who was also human and ghost.

“Was this a trick, too? Was Danielle a liar, too?” she yelled. No answer. “Where the hell did you go? We aren’t done here!”

“Valerie?”

Valerie twitched. That voice—

There, bright and glowing against the blackness of the room, was Danielle.

“Valerie!” Danielle said with a grin, flying forward and giving her a hug. Valerie returned it with stiff arms.

“Hey, you… Uh, I’m looking for your… cousin. Do you know where he is?”

“Danny? No, I haven’t seen him in ages. I’m kinda off exploring the world, y’know? Anyway, how’ve you been?”

“I’m—good. Look, I really need to find him.”

Danielle floated up and shrugged. “Well, he’s not here, but I can help you look.”

Valerie nodded. “Thanks, kid. And, uh, would you mind changing back to human?”

“Huh?” Danielle landed on whatever passed for the ground in this featureless void. “Why?”

“It’s just—uncomfortable, is all.”

Something strange passed across Danielle’s face.

“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ll be a lot faster if I can fly.”

Valerie clenched her fists. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

Danielle’s answering smile was tense as she lifted herself through the air. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Wait, if you leave how will”—Danielle zoomed away with an impressive burst of speed—“we find each other. Great.” Valerie groaned and slumped to the ground. “They just keep running away, huh?”

“Yeah,” Star said, “I wonder why that is.”

Star and Valerie were on a hill, watching the stars. Star was really good at finding constellations, seeing connections where Valerie saw points, seeing a picture where Valerie saw light pollution, so stargazing was always fun with her. She’d always loved space because of her name, she said. She wanted to know all about what she was named after.

The moon was full and bright. Valerie could see Star clearly, half-swallowed by the long grass. It was a cool, pleasant night. Peaceful, in all the ways Valerie was not.

(She was looking for someone. To do… something.)

“It’s ‘cause they know I’m right,” Valerie said.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you need to be less sure.”

“What are you—”

And Valerie was falling again.

--

Detention with Lancer. Never fun, not even when he kicked his feet up and fell asleep. She and Phantom had both gotten it for skipping class to fight ghosts. The ghost himself was sitting in the back of the class, balancing his pencil on his nose and staring out the window.

After a long moment of silence, Phantom said, “You don’t have any questions for me?”

“Already know all the answers.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’d I fight Pariah Dark?”

“For attention.”

“I thought I would die.” Phantom’s tone was light, conversational. This isn’t a big deal to him, just a fact. “Like, all the way. I thought that suit was gonna kill me if Pariah didn’t kill me first.”

“You’re lying.”

The pencil fell to the desk with a clatter. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Whenever I say anything you can’t argue against, you just claim I’m lying.”

“It’s because you’re a liar,” Valerie said without thinking.

“See! There you go again. Not addressing my actual point, just deflecting.”

Valerie opened her mouth to refute again, then paused. Calling the ghost a liar had become reflex. She didn’t have to think about anything he said if it was all a lie, after all. Then again… “But you did lie to me.”

“Yeah. I’ve been lying to everyone for years now.”

“So why should I trust you?”

Phantom shrugged. “Have I ever hurt anyone?”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t start.”

“You could say the same thing about literally anyone, though.”

“You ruined my life!”

“You told me you liked being a ghost hunter. That you like your life as it is right now. Was that a lie?”

Valerie grit her teeth. “No.”

“Then why are you so upset with me?”

“Because you lied!” Valerie yanked her hair in frustration. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“Not because I’m a ghost?”

“No!”

Valerie gasped even as the word came out of her mouth. Lancer grumbled in his sleep at the front of the classroom and shifted to the side. Phantom grinned at her, showing off the fangs in his mouth.

“Wait, no, that’s not… I’m also mad because of the ghost thing! Ghosts are evil.”

“Am I evil?”

Yes, she wanted to say, but her lips wouldn’t form the word.

“Is Danielle evil?”

Danielle, screaming, dissolving into goo, and Valerie put her there—

“No.”

“Are you angry? Or are you using anger to cover the hurt?”

“I—I’m not—”

And Valerie was falling again.

--

“One of these days, ghost,” Jack Fenton said, shaking his fist, “I’m going to catch you and rip you apart molecule by molecule!”

“She’s a ghost!” Valerie said. “And I destroy ghosts!”

“Ghosts are nothing but the imprint of a human consciousness manifesting in ectoplasm after death,” Maddie Fenton said, shocking the ghost on her table as it screamed. “They don’t actually feel anything.”

And then—

Frostbite slammed the door closed, even though he got infected. Even though he was a full ghost and shouldn’t have cared about them at all.

And Danielle flew away, young and eager to explore the world. A child, who’d never really been free before.

And Danny—

Danny laughing with her. Danny hiding with her from Dash and Nathan. Danny forgiving her for being mean in school. Danny begging her to help him save Danielle (a child, who’d done nothing wrong and Valerie had given her away to a man who would destroy her). Danny, just as invested in protecting that stupid flour sack for their grade. Danny, revealing her to her dad, smug little grin on his face. Danny, who could’ve died that day and no one would have ever known what he’d done for them.

Something ached in her heart.

“No,” she said, choking on a sob, as the scenery around her changed again. “No, I can’t be this wrong.”

She was in a lab, now. Jack and Maddie Fenton stood to her left. To her right stood two GiW agents. On the table in front of her, strapped down, was Phantom.

Was Danny.

“Ms. Gray,” one of the agents said, “we were so pleased when you brought us your capture. Such a unique specimen will fuel our research for decades.”

Valerie swallowed. Danny stared at her, uncanny green eyes boring into her own. He didn’t say anything.

“Decades?” she said.

“Of course! We’ll take it slow; we wouldn’t want to destroy it before we’ve learned everything we can. Not like some people.” He looked over at Jack and Maddie, who rubbed their heads sheepishly.

Decades. Decades as a test subject. If Danny was just a ghost, it shouldn’t matter. He couldn’t feel anything.

Right?

Valerie couldn’t look away from his face. He looked scared.

“No,” she said. Her fingers clenched into fists

“Hm?” the other agent said.

“No, I won’t let you do this. It… This isn’t right!” With every word she spoke, she became more sure.

Danny was afraid. It wasn’t a lie or an act. He was really, truly afraid.

“Valerie?” Maddie said. “Dear, you know it’s not a person, right? It can’t actually feel.”

“You’re wrong!” She stepped forward, pulled out her gun, and blasted away the restraints holding Danny down. “I’ve been wrong, too. This whole time.”

“It’s out!” one agent said, pulling his ectogun and firing. “Recapture maneuvers, now!”

“What did you do?” Jack grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Danny flew around the room, avoiding the ectoblasts from the agents and Maddie. “What did you do?”

“The right thing,” she whispered. And she knew that, this time, she was correct, and it hit like a bullet to the chest.

Then she was soaring, ripped out of Jack’s grasp, flying through walls and agents until she was outside the building, in Danny’s arms, free.

He set her down on a rooftop across the city. “Thank you,” he said. “I couldn’t—”

Heaving sobs burst out of her. “I’m sorry! God, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I—Huh?”

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just didn’t want to admit it. For so long, Danny.”

“Are you okay?”

Valerie laughed. “No. I’ve been convincing myself that I was right and ghosts were all evil all the time because if they weren’t… if they weren’t, then what was I even doing?”

Danny’s face, inexplicably, softened. “Val—”

“And then I found out your secret, and all I could think was that you lied. That you didn’t trust me. And I knew why! But if I acknowledged it, then I had to acknowledge everything. All the—all the ways I hurt you. What if I hurt other ghosts that did—didn’t deserve it either?” Valerie hiccuped. “I—oh, God, I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. You’re human. This is the kind of mistake that humans make. Me included.”

“I would have let Vlad destroy Danielle if you didn’t talk me out of it. I would have been fine with it!”

“But you didn’t. Don’t torture yourself over things you didn’t do. It doesn’t help anything.”

Valerie’s throat was sore, aching with each new sob, but she couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry. I made you a liar in my head so I could keep lying to myself. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny’s arms circled around her, and she let her head hit his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

--

Kwan didn’t expect Valerie to come back crying.

He’d kind of figured she’d get the trial. She’d been so sure it would be Danny that Kwan thought it had to be her. Like, cosmically or whatever. And after Paulina’s… whatever that was, he knew it would more than likely be intense. But ever since her dad had lost his job, Valerie had lost her softness, too. She didn’t cry when she was upset anymore. Instead, she got angry. She got even.

But when the light flashed on, Valerie was huddled on the floor, hugging herself, sobs heaving from her chest. Her face was dark and splotchy, dark stains of mascara trailing down her cheeks. Time was Kwan would have run to her, put his arms around her, rocked her back and forth. But this wasn’t that Valerie, and he wasn’t that Kwan.

He walked slowly, and knelt beside her.

“Valerie?”

“Oh God,” she said, choking through her sobs. “I—I really messed up.”

Kwan couldn’t help but turn his head and stare at Danny, holding Paulina up across the room. If she meant what he thought she meant… well, he couldn’t exactly argue.

“Yeah,” he said. She looked at him, tears still dripping from her eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Valerie lifted a shaking hand and wiped at her eyes and cheeks and chin. “Ugh, nasty.” She looked tired more than anything. “Yeah. Yeah, I gotta do something, right?”

“You should probably start with walking. I don’t think he’s gonna come to you.”

Kwan stood with her, holding her elbow as her knees started to tremble. He glanced over her real quick, looking for any injuries like Paulina’s, but whatever had messed her up seemed to be more mental than anything.

That didn’t stop her from almost collapsing when she took her first step, grabbing on to Kwan’s hand at the last moment.

“Val!” Danny said, making an aborted gesture like he wanted to come over to help.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Just give me a sec.”

Kwan didn’t quite buy it, but she was determined. He kept his arm out, just in case she fell, but with each step she became steadier, almost normal by the time she reached Danny and Paulina.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong about you. About everything. And I knew it, see, but I didn’t want to face it. So I just kept lying to myself. And I hurt you because of it. And I’m sorry.”

Danny froze, staring at Valerie in disbelief. “Oh,” he said.

Kwan looked over at the door at the far end of the chamber. He awaited the tell-tale rumble, the sign that they’d finished the last trial and the door was opening, but nothing came. Confused, he stared at Valerie, who shook her head.

“I don’t think I’m done just yet,” she said, sitting down in front of Danny. “I’ve done a lot of talking since this started. Said a lot of things… things that I regret. I haven’t listened, much. I think I need to listen, now.”

“Listen to what?” Danny said. “Like, what am I supposed to say?”

“Anything you wanted to tell me.” Tears spilled over her eyes again and her voice broke. “I’ll believe you. I swear.”

Danny laughed, just a little. “Even if I said the sky was green?”

Valerie pointed at one of the holes in the ceiling that revealed the swirling Ghost Zone outside. “Isn’t it?” she said.

Kwan couldn’t help but laugh at that, too, just as Danny and Valerie fell into giggles. Paulina mostly looked confused, but Kwan didn’t really have a good way to explain it to her right now. He waved her off.

“Well, I guess—Vlad’s a half-ghost, too. I thought you should know that.”

“Oh, uh, I already did. Know that, I mean”

“You did?”

Kwan held up his hands before they could get any deeper into that discussion. “Wait, wait—the mayor?”

“Yeah. He wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and make me his evil half-ghost apprentice. So. It’s uncomfortable at best but sometimes I egg his house.”

“You egg his house?”

“After he cloned me, I figured all bets were off.”

“He cloned you?”

“Jesus, is that where Danielle came from?”

“Who’s Danielle?”

“My cousin. Well, technically, yes, she’s my clone, but that’s weird so we just call each other cousins.”

“Yeah,” Kwan said, feeling faint, “that makes the situation much less weird.”

Danny shrugged. “It’s just my life, dude. You get used to it.”

“Hang on,” Valerie said. “I don’t think we can gloss over the fact that Vlad Masters wants to murder your father, marry your mother, forcibly adopt you, and clone you, and the proportional response is egging his house?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “It’s not proportional but I’m not rich enough to do much more than be petty. If I reveal his identity to anyone then he’ll reveal me, too. Mutually Assured Destruction, and all that. Only so much I can do outside of that.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit. This is crazy. I hate this.”

“Tell me about it. How did you know Vlad was a ghost, anyway?”

“Oh, uh, I flew back to check on him after Danielle. And he was. Monologuing.”

Danny laughed again. “Of course he was. He’s such a little loser. You know his cat?”

“Yeah, Maddie—oh shit, that’s your mother’s name.”

(What the fuck, Kwan thought. What the fuck the mayor was so creepy.)

“Yeah, heh, well, the cat was my idea.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I told him he was so lonely and pathetic that he should stop trying to get my mom to love him since she never would and instead fill that hole with a cat. I still can’t believe he listened to me.”

They broke down into laughter again. Kwan thought it sounded a little hysterical, but he figured they deserved to go a little crazy.

After they calmed down a bit, Valerie wiped at her eyes. “What else?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, is there anything else you want to say to me? Stuff to tell me?”

(Kwan actually wanted to spend a little more time on the whole the mayor is an evil ghost thing, but this wasn’t his show.)

And Danny talked.

He talked about walking into his parents’ portal, thinking it was broken. About turning it on while he was still inside. About how much he sucked with his powers to start. About Ember McClain (she’s a ghost?) and Spectra (she’s a ghost?) and the Lunch Lady. About how scared he was, fighting Pariah Dark. About how much fun it was to fly. How funny it was to mess with Vlad.

Sometime, in the middle of all this, the door opened. Kwan and Paulina both felt the rumble, both looked at the door, but Valerie and Danny were too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Paulina opened her mouth to say something, but Kwan shook his head. The fate of the world didn’t rest on them moving immediately. Thirty more seconds wouldn’t matter.

After another minute, Paulina raised her eyebrows at him, jerking her head at the door. Kwan bit back an instinctive retort. She wouldn’t hear it anyway, and she wasn’t wrong. They couldn’t wait forever.

“Uh, guys?” he said, when there was a slight lull. “Not to interrupt, but the door’s open.”

Valerie and Danny’s head whipped around. “Oh,” Valerie said. “Right.”

Kwan winced. They’d been having a good time! Getting along! He’d been hoping for that since the beginning of this mess and now that they were there, he had to break the tender moment up. Unfair.

Necessary, but unfair.

“We’re done, right?” Danny said. “I mean, this last one should be the Panacea?”

“Should be,” Valerie said. “Unless we fucked up somehow. Or that legend was wrong.”

Kwan peered beyond the opening, but just like every other time, it was pitch black. They’d only find out for sure by walking in.

“Hang on a sec,” Danny said, eyes squeezed in concentration. Before Kwan could ask what he was doing, a bright white light engulfed the room.

When Kwan could see again, there was Danny Phantom, standing in place of Danny Fenton.

“Woo! Finally!” Danny said, floating up and doing a couple flips.

“Wait,” Kwan said, “could you… not do that before?”

Danny laughed. “Of course not, dude, or I’d’ve been in ghost mode the whole time. Ghost Zone is dangerous and all. That gun really knocked the wind out of me; I only just got the connection to my ghost half back.”

Kwan had been kind of avoiding thinking about Danny’s ghost half because he wasn’t really sure what to think. He didn’t have a problem with it, not like Valerie did, but it still felt… weird. How could someone be half-dead? Wasn’t it, like, painful?

Watching now, the grin on Danny’s face as he unleashed a bright explosion of ectoplasm like a firework over their heads, he knew there was nothing to worry about. Danny was half-ghost. Danny was happy about it.

It was good enough for him, Kwan decided.

He glanced over at Valerie. A smile played around her lips. Paulina was cheering beside her, elbow resting on Valerie’s shoulder. In a moment, they’d all link arms and walk through the last door, a truly united front.

Kwan cheered with Paulina as Danny landed. Valerie’s almost-smile became a grin. Danny bowed, a huge sweeping motion.

He could get used to friends like this.

--

“If we walk through this door and there’s another trial,” Danny said, looping his hands through Kwan and Valerie’s elbows, “I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Kwan and Valerie laughed, but Paulina groaned. “I can’t wait to find this stupid Panacea so I can stop missing all the good stuff! Stop being funny while I can’t hear!”

Danny couldn’t help laughing again as they stepped over the final threshold.

Immediately, the room lit up. Danny raked his eyes over the other, making sure none of them were shaken up or hurt like they’d been before, but they all looked the same.

“No trials?” he said, just to be sure.

“No,” Valerie said. Kwan shook his head.

Paulina rolled her eyes. “I still can’t hear you.”

Danny gave her a thumbs up, then pointed at her, and shrugged.

She giggled. “Okay, yeah, I’m good. No trials or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

With that settled, Danny examined the room for the Panacea. At the far end, raised on a pedestal on a dais, was a white, crystalline bottle, glowing just slightly.

The Panacea.

Kwan whooped and raced toward it. “Wait!” Danny said, afraid of another trap.

Kwan made it to the dais, but stopped at Danny’s shout. “Sorry! I got excited.”

“Yeah, I get it, but we need to be careful.” Danny floated up next to Kwan, Valerie and Paulina right behind him. “Maybe… Maybe you should all step back.”

“What?”

“Danny, no!”

“What’d you say?”

“Listen! I’m faster than any of you. If something gets triggered I’m more likely to be able to get away.”

“But—” Valerie started to say.

“Am I wrong?”

“No—”

“Look, I appreciate it. Really, I do, but I think it’s best if I get the thing. Just in case.”

Danny couldn’t exactly explain why, but he was absolutely certain that he needed to be the one to grab the bottle. Everything he said was true enough, but there was something else niggling in the back of his mind that said he was the only one who could do it. He couldn’t let anyone else touch it.

“What’s going on?” Paulina said to Kwan in what she probably intended to be a whisper but was loud enough for everyone to hear. Kwan pointed to Danny, then to the rest of them, then pointed to the other side of the chamber.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help,” she said, “but thanks, querido.”

“Are you sure?” Valerie said, steady gaze meeting his own.

Danny swallowed. “I’m sure.” He wasn’t sure why he was so sure, but he was.

She bit her lip, then nodded and stepped back, pulling Kwan and Paulina with her. That trial really had changed things; just ten minutes ago, Valerie would never have listened to him like this.

Once they were far enough away, Danny took a deep breath and grabbed the Panacea.

It came off easily, but before they could take a moment to celebrate, a bright green box formed around him.

Of course it did.

Danny reached out to touch the green wall, and a painful zap had him yanking his hand back. So no walking through. Ugh.

“Oh, come on!” Paulina said, tearing at her hair in frustration. “We passed your stupid trials! Just let us save the world!”

“Don’t worry, dude!” Kwan said. “We’ll get you out of there.”

It hit Danny all at once, a certainty that he knew exactly what needed to be done.

Valerie had already run up to the trap, Kwan and Paulina close behind, and was examining it. Probably looking for a way to get rid of it.

She couldn’t, though. Not like that.

“Val! Take the Panacea!”

Valerie, sharp as ever, narrowed her eyes at him. She’d already caught on. “We aren’t going to leave you here, Danny.”

“You have to.”

“No way!”

“What’s happening now?”

Kwan pulled out his phone, typing something before showing it to Paulina. She gasped. “Are you stupid? We’ll figure something else out. Don’t go playing martyr on us now.”

“No, listen! You have to. This is my trial, okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Every trial picks something that we suck at, right? Well, this one picked me.”

Kwan frowned. “I don’t—”

“It’s trust. I—look, I’ll be honest, you three are not high on my list of people to trust with my secret. Or, at least, you weren’t.”

Valerie opened her mouth, then winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s… fair.”

“But how can this be a trial? No one else’s trial took place in the real world!” Kwan stopped himself, furiously typing on his phone to show to Paulina. “This is the real world, right?”

“It’s real,” Danny said. He knew it like he knew he needed to grab the Panacea, like he knew exactly what needed to happen next. “This trap won’t go away until we put the Panacea back. But when we put it back, it’s gone forever. We’ll never find it again.”

“So, if we get you out…”

“We lose the Panacea.”

“No, no, no! We’ll figure something else out. There has to be another way.”

“Guys, guys, chill. You just have to bring it back when you’re done, okay?” Danny held out the Panacea through the force field. It passed through just fine. “I’m not offering to stay here forever. Just until you get back.”

None of them moved to grab the bottle. “But… but how are we supposed to fight the ghost without you?”

It was a fair question, and Danny wasn’t sure how he would have answered it yesterday. But the Panacea would be Pestilence’s ultimate weakness. And they’d faced plenty of stuff on their own today.

Danny wiggled the Panacea. “You’ll figure it out. I’ve got faith.”

(He was lying, just a little. But this wasn’t the truth trial, and what was faith without a little doubt?)

Valerie hugged herself. “I don’t know that we can,” she said. She straightened. “But we have to anyway, right?”

“Pretty much,” Danny said with a laugh.

“Do you have, like, snacks? For while you wait? Do you even need to eat?” He opened his mouth to respond, but Paulina shook her head. “Never mind, I can’t hear you anyway. Just… be careful?”

He couldn’t do much else, trapped as he was. He smiled and gave Paulina a thumbs up.

Kwan reached out and took the bottle. “How come you get to know it’s a trial, anyway? I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Fair.” Kwan started to move away, then paused. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.”

“I know,” he said. (Did he?)

“See you soon.”

Danny’s palms were sweaty under the suit. “See you soon.”

And they left.

--

Waiting sucked.

He was more bored and more anxious than he’d ever been in his life. Sure, he’d talked big about trusting the others. He even meant it. But he’d lost his phone somewhere in this whirlwind of a day, so he had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? Two hours? A day?

Okay, it definitely hadn’t been a day, but still. He worried. Valerie could hold her own, and Kwan could throw a decent punch, but was that enough against a veritable army? Even with the Panacea?

He wasn’t used to sitting aside and letting other people save the day.

(It was the right choice. It was the only choice. He hated it.)

He drummed his fingers on his knee. He tried a few breakdancing moves, fell, and laid on his back for ten minutes. His bladder started to ache. He thought about pissing through the barrier, but he couldn’t risk the chance that it would instead ricochet. He squeezed his legs together. He sang Billy Joel songs at the top of his lungs until his throat started to hurt.

“Jeez, you are not a singer, my guy.”

Danny’s head jerked up at Kwan’s voice. There, crossing the threshold, were Valerie, Paulina, and Kwan, hair and clothes a little messed up, but looking perfectly fine.

“You’re back!” He stood up and attempted to meet them, only to slam into the barrier, zapping himself once again. “Ow.”

“Of course we are,” Valerie said, a smirk in her voice. “Never a doubt.”

“This Panacea stuff is amazing.” Paulina pointed to her ears and wiggled the bottle. “Fixes everything. I love hearing and sound.”

Danny laughed, relief tingling down his spine. It worked. They did it. They won.

“Thank fuck,” he said. “Now get me out of here.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Paulina said, tapping at her chin and frowning. “This stuff is pretty cool.”

Before an icy hand of fear could grip his heart, Kwan and Valerie were already yelling at Paulina.

“Polly!”

“Come on, girl.”

Paulina giggled, waving her hand. “Sorry, sorry. Wrong crowd.” She passed it through the barrier.

He snatched it out of her hand and placed it back on its pedestal. The barrier fell, and the room rumbled once again. As Danny stumbled to his friends (yeah, they were friends, weren’t they?), the chamber collapsed in on itself, leaving just the four of them, floating alone in the Ghost Zone.

“Guys,” Danny said, “I have to pee so badly.”

And they collapsed on each other, laughing. It didn’t help the burning in his bladder, but he could wait a minute or so more.

--

All four of them had split with little fanfare, exhausted from the day's events. He'd sent a quick text to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, promising to explain everything tomorrow, and promptly fell asleep.

Jazz drove him to school and he gave her a rundown on the way. She smiled at him. Patted his shoulder. Said she was proud of him for making such a hard choice.

“Wasn't much of a choice,” he said with a shrug.

“That still doesn't mean it was easy. You did good, Danny. And now maybe you've got some more people, too.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”

The thing was, Danny had watched The Breakfast Club once, with Sam and Tucker. At the end, Sam looked over at him and said, “Bet they go back to school the next day and never talk to each other again.”

Tucker blew a raspberry at her. “Boo!” he said. “You're no fun.”

“Yeah,” Danny had said at the time, “They're all friends now. They aren't just going to give it all up to go back to how things used to be.”

“They spent one afternoon together in detention,” Sam said. “How life changing could it be?”

Danny pointedly did not think about that conversation as he walked up to Casper High the day after Pestilence's defeat. He didn't think about it as he pushed open the front entrance. He didn't think about it as he opened his locker. He definitely didn't think about it as he saw Dash shove Mikey to the floor.

Business as usual.

“Hey.”

Danny jumped, smacked his head on the locked door, and turned to see Paulina standing behind him.

Paulina giggle. “You good, cariño?”

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” Danny rubbed the stinging at the back on his head. “You'll give me a heart attack.”

“Can you get a heart attack?” Paulina tilted her head. Danny thought for a moment: his heart didn't actually beat in ghost form so theoretically...

“...Don't ask me that.”

“Hey, Fenturd! Leave Paulina alone.”

And there was Dash, looming behind him like Skulker, but only half as scary. Danny managed not to flinch as he turned to face him.

“I started talking to him, Dashie.”

Dash blinked in surprise. “Well,” he said, “he still shouldn't bother you.”

“He isn't.”

“Oh.”

Dash stood for a moment, mouth open, like he couldn't believe any of this. Danny could hardly believe it himself. But then Paulina rolled her eyes and said, “Seriously, Dash, that's enough. You can go now.” She punctuated her sentence with a dismissive wave.

“I—what?” Dash shook his head. “No, no, this doesn't make sense. Polly, are you—are you still possessed?”

Still possessed. Did Dash think that Paulina had been under Pestilence's spell? Or did he think she was somehow under Danny's spell? What exactly did everyone else think had happened yesterday?

“Just because I want to talk to Danny and not—”

“But he's a loser—”

“Don't talk about him like that!”

Dash's mouth flapped like he wanted to speak but no words came out. “I—you—what did you do to her, you little freak?” He turned on Danny, who had pressed himself into his locker, caught in the middle of this argument. Grabbing Danny's collar, he hoisted him up, knocking his head against the locker door again. Ow.

“I didn't do anything! Maybe Paulina just grew up!” Danny had never been good at keeping his mouth shut. Even now, when the obvious answer was to just get this whole thing over as soon as possible, he still had to sass Dash.

Paulina's perfectly manicured hand wrapped around Dash's wrist. “Seriously, Dash, he didn't—”

Dash ignored her, shoving her off. Paulina stumbled back, then hit the ground with a thud.

“Get off of him!”

And there was Kwan, pulling Dash off of him, arms looped under and around his shoulders. Danny sank to the ground, rubbing at his head. To the side, he saw Valerie help Paulina up before they both turned to glare at Dash.

Despite the twinge in his scalp, despite the stares of the rest of the school, despite his own lingering exhaustion, Danny couldn't help but smile. Take that, Sam. The Breakfast Club lives.

--

“Kwan?” Dash pulled away as soon as Kwan loosened his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

Kwan ignored him and turned to Danny and Paulina. “You guys okay?”

Before either of them could respond, Dash shoved him. “Hey!”

“What is your problem, dude?”

“You're the one who suddenly came at me!”

“Yeah, because you were hurting Danny and Paulina.”

Dash blinked, like that hadn't occurred to him. It probably hadn't. Sometimes, Kwan thought that Dash didn't realize that everyone else in the world was a person, too. That they all had thoughts and feelings of their own. To Dash, everything was all Dash all the time.

(It wasn't entirely true, Kwan knew. He remembered a different Dash, eight years old, crying over Old Yeller and pretending he wasn't. Swiping at stray tears and yelling it's just dusty it's allergies don't laugh even though Kwan was crying, too. He doesn't know when exactly the pretense became reality, but he'd lost his Dash a long, long time ago.)

“Sorry Polly,” Dash said, not even looking at her. “But she’s acting weird. Fentonio’s using his parents’ ghost stuff to control her or something!”

“He is not!” Paulina yelled.

“Do you have, like, proof, or are you just pulling this insane theory out of your ass?”

They had long since attracted a crowd. Danny had slipped over to Valerie and Paulina at the front of the mass of students, and behind them stood just about every person in the school. Even Mr. Lancer, who by all rights should have been stepping in and stopping this, was standing by and watching. Like he was curious how things would go.

Asshole.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need to back off of Danny and everyone else!”

Dash straightened up and pushed up his sleeves. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Who’s gonna make me.”

The crowd around them went wild, frenzied kids hooting and hollering at the prospect of a fight. Kwan made eye contact with Danny, Valerie, and Paulina. Paulina pointed at Dash, rolled her eyes, and faked a gag. Valerie gave him a thumbs up. Danny mouthed sorry at him. Behind them, Lancer hid his face behind a book.

Kwan wasn’t stupid. He knew what Dash was asking for. He knew Dash thought he’d win the fight, easy. He’d always won before, after all. Except—Kwan had been stupid in love with him. And a Dash who won was way happier than a Dash who lost.

The truth: Dash was a quarterback. Decently strong, for sure, but his main job was throwing the ball around. Kwan was an offensive lineman. His main job? Throwing people around. When the playing field was level, when Kwan didn’t pull his punches, there was no competition.

If Dash had thought about it for more than a minute, he would’ve realized that there was no way he was stronger than Kwan. But he’d long since lost that kind of self-awareness.

Kwan could be sad about all the ways Dash had changed tomorrow. Today was for kicking his ass.

Dash pulled his arm back to throw a haymaker. Without pausing to think, Kwan sidestepped the attack and swung an uppercut, hitting Dash square on the jaw with a nauseating click.

Dash flopped to the floor, mouth hanging open. Blood dripped down his chin; he must have bitten his tongue. For a moment, he froze, staring at Kwan in shock.

“You’re an ass,” Kwan said, “and I’ve been an ass right next to you. But I’m sick of it. Paulina’s sick of it. Everyone else in school is sick of it. I’m not holding myself back just to make you feel better. And I’m not gonna let you keep being a dick, either. So I suggest you stay down.”

Dash opened his mouth to say something, but Kwan cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear it,” he said. “Just… grow the fuck up, dude.”

And he walked past his oldest friend, bleeding on the ground, toward the cacophony of students and his 3 new/old friends.

“Jeez,” Valerie said, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder, “you’re so dramatic.”

“That was… public,” Danny said. The students started to disperse, heralded by Mr. Lancer. Lancer looked over at Kwan, nodded in something like approval, then shepherded people into their classrooms, leaving the four of them alone in the hallway just before the bell rang.

Kwan scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about that. Sorry you got in the middle there.”

“No, no, I mean… thanks for stepping in, but are you guys gonna be okay?” Danny’s eyes flicked between Paulina and Kwan.

They looked at each other. Paulina giggled. Valerie shook her head with a smile.

“Yeah, dude,” Kwan said. “We’re gonna be just fine.”

#danny phantom #my writing #my fic #invisobang 2023 #invisobang #paulina sanchez #valerie gray #kwan

[callimara]

The Characters

Main Cast

▶ Height Chart

Kirana Putri Anggraini

A full-time registered nurse and the holder of the Snake Aegis. She is 25 years old and has lived in Bougainville for the past 5 years to work at Bougainville General. Kirana is of Indonesian (half-Javanese, half-Balinese) descent: born and raised in Jogjakarta before undertaking her bachelor's degree in Paris. She has since gained permanent residence in France. Kirana is a sweet, kind, and motherly individual. She is empathetic and cares deeply for others: she will always extend a helping hand to those in need. Her family means more to her than anything in the world and she does her best to do right by them; even if it means pushing herself far too much. Though it can be challenging to live and work in a town where everyone perceives you as... Different, she tries her best to not let it affect her. Even when it does, deep down... She is very humble, though whether it's genuine humility or a genuine fear of standing out remains to be seen. But one thing everyone knows about her is her large appetite and love of food! She perceives food as an important part of culture and forming connections (which is a very fortunate common thread to have). So if she invites you for a coffee or lunch, be sure to say yes!

Learn more about Ulara!

Clara De Vries

A struggling artist who performs at cafes and bars - and occasionally sidewalks – all over town. She is the holder of the Songbird Aegis; 24 years old and a new face in town. Originally from Amsterdam, she arrived in Bougainville with nothing but the clothes on her back (quite literally). She is desperate to put her past behind her and move on to greener pastures. Clara wears her heart on her sleeve and is quick to give it away (which is often the cause of her troubles.) She craves affection and connection; but past experiences have given her a more pessimistic view on her chances of finding it. Yet still, she readily accepts it from anyone who offers: desperately. She is deeply troubled; though what it is that troubles her or why, she will never say. Perhaps it is her money trouble, or trouble finding a safe place to sleep, or any combination of the two: she is often lost in her own thoughts; slightly scatterbrained and distracted. But she truly comes to life when she is singing and playing music. Recently she learned of a full-ride music scholarship from Bougainvillea University. Perhaps it will finally help her turn her life around...

Learn more about Nightingale!

Natasha "Amber" Vasilieva

A park ranger and holder of the Tiger Aegis. She is 28 years old and is a military veteran of the Russian armed forces. She was discharged after being diagnosed with PTSD and Broca's Aphasia from a traumatic head injury while on active duty. To aid in her recovery, she had moved to the quiet, peaceful town of Bougainville for a job at the Emilie Francoise Nature Reserve: away from large crowds and loud noises. It has been several years since then. She was not as angry as she used to be; but living with her new disabilities still vexes her from to time to time. Amber is determined to get through her recovery as fast as she possibly can, but her progress is slow; a part of her fears that... She might never be the same person she was before. Despite this, she remains stoic and unshaken on the outside. Amber is severe and intimidating, even when she doesn't mean to be. If she can just learn to talk again... Maybe she wouldn't be stuck twiddling her thumbs in the middle of nowhere.

Learn more about Amura!

Colette Le Gautier

A student at Bougainvillea University? Who knows. Colette is very evasive about what she does. 26 years old and the holder of the Cat Aegis, she has an eclectic set of skills in her resume; one of which being a top gymnast for the Bougainvillea University's gymnastics team. Clever, quick-witted, and calculating; Colette uses her words carefully and purposefully. A social butterfly that fits into any social circle, but a recluse when it comes to her personal life. No one never really knows Colette. There is something unnerving about her: a certain pressure that could put anyone on edge. Is it her striking beauty? Her demand for perfection? Her uncanny ability to make someone want to please her regardless? Or something else? But one thing is certain: she looks out for no one but herself. So what is it does she hope to find in a small, quaint town like Bougainville?

Learn more about Felle Noire!

Supporting Cast

Carter Bishop

Carter is one of the library assistants at the Bougainville University Library, and has quickly become a popular fixture there; despite having only started in the last couple of months. He appears to be in his late twenties, and speaks with an extremely upper class British accent. He speaks fluent French with little difficulty, and is diligent and dedicated in his work. He tends to keep to himself most of the time, but he is pleasant to interact with: personable and friendly, albeit with a typical British dry wit. He is quick to help anybody who needs it, and his aid has already saved more than a few last-minute studiers with their coursework!

Elias Wright

Elias is the foul-tempered, acerbic chef in the local bistro, having already made a name for himself thanks to his explosive temper and overwhelming presence. The only thing that exceeds his apparently endless reserves of rage is his skill for cooking; the food in the bistro has taken a notable turn for the better, though whether that's from his skill, his leadership or simply the fact that the other cooks are terrified of angering him with sub-par products remains to be seen. He appears to be of American descent, and speaks with a difficult to place southern-states accent, but does not seem keen on sharing details. In dealings with people out and about town, he is prickly, standoffish and suspicious, preferring his own company to that of others. If he isn't shouting, then he's at least wearing a heavy scowl most of the time.

Markus Reiland

Markus is the suave, charming, popular bartender at the Bougainville watering hole, and is known probably intimately by most women - and half of the men - in town. His easygoing, charming demeanour, easy smile and dulcet tones have charmed more than their fair share of customers in any number of ways, and it seems like he always has his finger on the pulse of recent happenings in town. To be expected from the bartender who can wink and smile a secret out of anybody! He is eminently flirtatious and effortlessly charming, always ready with a wink, a smile and a flirtatious joke to anybody who crosses his path. He's a skilled cocktail mixer, and his party trick is making a custom cocktail for his customer based solely on his impressions of them as a person; he rarely misses, which just goes to show how easily he can read people. Unusually for rural France, he speaks with a thick hybrid accent, using many Louisianan cadences mixed with what appears to be an Iberian Spanish accent.

Casey Price

Casey is the bubbly and friendly waiter at the local vegan cafe, almost always being found on the morning and lunch shift. He's a friendly and talkative fellow who often chatters his customer's ear off with an earnest and sincere personability that makes it difficult to resist the urge to fall into conversation with him. He's a passionate animal-lover, extolling the virtues of vegetarianism to anybody who asks, but he is not one to judge or evangelise if the subject has not come up naturally. His accent seems to be from the American continent, though whether north-States or southern-Canadian is a little hard to tell at times. He's a little dorky, often tripping over his words in his excitement to say them, and often talks about his dreams of one day becoming a vet, or working in conservation...if he can find the time and money to go to school for the qualifications, that is!

▶ Wildward Master Post

#wildward #callimara #lore #characters #clara de vries #kirana putri anggraini #natasha amber vasilieva #colette le gautier #carter bishop #casey price #markus reiland #elias wright

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #30

There's a new cafe in Gotham. It's not very well known, just a small shop in between two buildings on an out of the way street, but it's a good place. The atmosphere is warm and cozy, the food and drink are delicious, and the staff are nice, if a bit mysterious. Sometimes their eyes are a bit greener, sometimes their ears seem a bit pointier than they should, sometimes they smile and your first thought is that those are fangs, but that's easy to ignore. It's... Calming. [Batfamily Member] enjoys visiting (and maybe they like chatting with the cute barista), and they come by so often the staff knows their favorites by heart. They visit so often it's practically on their schedule. Or they did, before they wake up with pointy ears, fangs, and eyes that are occasionally just too green.

Team Phantom and some other people from Amity Park start a Supernaturally Hidden Cafe leaky cauldron style (only visible to those in the community through magic) for Liminal, ghosts, and all supernaturally death adjacent. The batfam have all become liminal, whether the usual way or by being in contact with a being liminal enough to Generate ectoplasm instead of just having it. The food has just enough ectoplasm in it to increase liminality, if only a little bit. Higher liminality brings forth fae-like changes. Misunderstandings abound.

#bones submissions #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc comics #writing prompts #dp x dc prompts

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Parings; Jason Todd x Female Reader (1) Pride and Prejudice and Hair (2) Seven-Eleven Karens and Pinky Promises at 3 AM (3) Google and Hand Holding (4)Cookies and The Butler and The Girlfriend (5)Push-Ups and Hoodies (6) Slushies and Happiness and Pizza (7)Book Recommendations and Jane Austen

8- Gotham Mornings and Daydreaming

Sometimes, mornings in Gotham were beautiful. In a city that was constantly run by ugly nights, it was welcomed. When the sun rose just above the tallest building in the city, illuminating the few, hidden beauties, there was a moment of quiet. During the best hours of the morning, most people would be at work, leaving the birds to have their songs echoing in the parks and against the tallest buildings. The city also seemed greener since the sun hit trees lining the streets or in the parks just right, and everyone seemed happier. It was for a few hours that the people of Gotham, who had been so used to loud nights, could be reminded that there was actually a bit of peace in the world. 

One morning, when Jason had actually gotten enough sleep to be up at a normal hour, he went to you. You were in the middle of making coffee when he arrived, still trying to shake the sleep from you, and handed him a mug before telling him to follow you to your room. Jason sat as he watched you open the curtain, letting the sunlight pour in, before taking your seat next to him. As he took a sip of the coffee, he noticed it smelled sweet, like most things you liked. 

“You slept well?” You asked in almost a whisper despite being just the two of you. 

“Yeah.” He had, that wasn’t a lie, but Jason also left out the part that was after spending most of the night thinking about you. 

Laying back against the pillows, you watched as far as you could outside your open window. The only thing you could see from where you sat was the windows of the apartments across the street. The people you could see, leaned out onto their fire escapes for an early morning smoke or to drink their coffee. Others ran by their windows getting ready for the day. 

“Is this how you spend most of your mornings? Staring?” Jason asked.

You spoke softly, still. For a moment Jason wondered if this was how you sounded every morning. “Yeah. I’m more daydreaming than watching.”

Jason hummed, watching for a moment longer before finding your hand to hold it. You broke your eye contact with the windows to look at him. 

“Honeybee,” You said sweetly. “Your hands are cold.”

Somehow, for some reason, the rest of Jason was warm, but his hands were always cold. Jason flexed his fingers, before relaxing them against your hand again. “Cold heart, I guess.”

You weren’t amused by the joke and rolled your eyes instead of saying anything. Yawning, you set your mug down onto the nightstand before rolling over onto your side, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. 

“Lay down with me?” 

Jason looked at the mug in his hand, thinking of how he would answer. Did he want to? Yes, but the nagging way in the back of his mind didn’t want him to. Chewing on his bottom lip, he decided to ignore the voices in the back and got comfortable next to you. Jason laid a good half arm's length away from you, on his back so he wouldn’t have to stare into your eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he could last under your gaze before melting. When he felt your hand, still wrapped in his, move onto his chest his heart fluttered instead of tightened. 

“What are you doing today?” He whispered. 

You scooted a bit closer and Jason didn’t mind. “I have work at noon, but, luckily, it’s a short shift. To make up for some lost hours.”

“Hm, then, I can take you out for breakfast, if you want.”

When Jason looked over at you, in the sunlight coming through the window, he could see you blush just a bit. He brought up a hand to brush against your hair and you grinned. 

“Breakfast sounds great right now.”

Maybe Jason could wake up at normal morning hours more often. 

#robin jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason fluff #jason todd #red hood x reader #romance #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction

[thevioletcaptain]

Kind of a Buddy of Mine

14.8k | Mature | DeanCas

It’s been sixty-five days since they left Alliance, and Cas is still seven inches tall. He's the one thing that Jesse Turner didn't put back to normal before he took off for greener pastures, and Dean figures he's holding a grudge. On some level, he can’t really blame him. Cas did try to kill the kid, after all. Still, it does seem kinda harsh to have left Cas looking like G.I. Joe’s Corporate Cousin for the rest of forever. With the apocalypse looming, Dean is determined to find a solution.

Sitting at a bar in Harrisonburg, Virginia, Dean slips Cas from the inside pocket of his jacket and carefully turns him around in his hands. He’s not sure why he’s bothering. It has to be two dozen times that he’s checked him over for some clue he missed this week alone, and it's not as though something new is going to just pop into existence after two months of nothing, but... well. The latest lead they had went absolutely nowhere, and he’s gotta do something.

It's been sixty-five days, now. He’s trying not to worry that this is gonna be permanent. He’s really fucking trying.

Since they left Alliance, he and Sam have checked out anything and everything that looked like it might have been remotely connected to Jesse in the hope that if they could just talk to him again, they might convince him to put Cas back to normal. Every single time it’s turned out to be something else.

First time was pixies. Second was a witch. Their latest lead, the one that first brought them to Virginia a few days ago, ended up being the work of some kind of malevolent trickster whose entire shtick was making you think you'd almost achieved some long-wanted goal, just to rug-pull and create utter chaos once he had you on board. Worst possible hunt they could've found themselves on right now, as far as Dean's concerned. He's fucking wiped. Mentally exhausted. One more false lead away from straight up having a total emotional breakdown.

Sam didn't even argue when Dean said he needed to grab a drink before he could think about packing up their motel room. He'd just nodded, and clapped Dean on the back, and headed for the passenger seat, still smelling faintly of lighter fluid thanks to the sage-and-flambe method it had taken to deal with their monster of the week.

That was all of twenty minutes ago.

Now, Dean is ordering beers at the first bar they happened upon, while Sam is outside in the parking lot finishing up a call with Bobby, his collar turned up against the lightly falling snow.

At least, Dean plans to order beers, just as soon as the bartender stops chatting up some other patron at the opposite end of the bar. Until then, he takes the time to look at Cas some more. Carefully, he raises and lowers his arms. Lifts up his coat to check if there's a clue hidden in the lining.

When he turns him back around, he notices a smudge of something on his face, high up on his plastic cheek bone, just below his bright blue left eye. Dirt, maybe. Or ash from the hunt. Dean licks the pad of his thumb and gingerly rubs it away, only remembering after he’s done it that Cas might very well be conscious of what’s happening. He grimaces.

“That never happened,” he mutters, just in case, and hears a snort from behind the bar. When he looks up, he finds the bartender has finally come to take his order. He's looking at Dean with a raised brow and an amused tilt to his mouth.

“Nice doll.”

“He’s not a doll,” Dean says, a little sharper than he intended, and the guy’s eyebrow lifts even higher. Right. Probably not the best thing to say if he doesn’t want to seem like a weirdo. He clears his throat and makes a cursory attempt at backtracking. “He’s, uh. It’s an action figure.”

[keep reading on Ao3]

#deancas fic #destiel fic #cass writes fic #spn fic #the deancas of us all #crack treated seriously #imogenbynight

[attyattlaw]

I know I literally made a whole thing of how I don't normally do fanmixes, but I needed some music that was under 40min and very familiar so I played Linkin Park's Meteora album and the entire time I had the band au in my brain. except they'd need more members to make it work. and i kept trying to think of who it'd be for such a collab. maybe i'm too tired idk but it was like if the au band sang in a higher register than they probably would and since both Linkin Park's first three albums and your art live rent-free in my head it was only a matter of time

thats actually rly perfect now that i think abt it. ive always imagined the music range Law brings is more indie soft rock and they have to balance it with kid and killer's metal and punk rocks. LP feels like it fits their style hmmm as for musical collabs, i haven't really thought much about who else is in the music industry. Most everyone in the AU has regular jobs to be socially accepted adults, but Kid in particular really wants this band to be a thing (especially for killer) after many attempts, band breakups and accidents. they could wring in the other kid pirates for a gig or two but barely as regulars.

possible candidates: Uta - but luffy never thought of bringing it up that his sister is a famous singer Corazon - Law saw all the Donquixote posters on their walls and decided to gatekeep him away from them as long as he can hawkins/apoo - kinda their gigmates before? left "for greener pastures" and now theyre not allowed near each other

#that band au #say what u want abt kidd but hes a stubborn dreamer and thats why i love him #luffy's weird network of connections even in the music industry is because of both brook and/or uta but noone bothers to ask him about it

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Little Mouse;; PSH

Word Count;; 2.4k

Genre;; Yandere + Smut

Pairing;; Seonghwa x Reader

Summary;;

You’ve escaped the toxicity of your past and greener pastures lie ahead… yet there’s a dark cloud brewing overhead, brimming with the promise of retribution. Sometimes it’s better to just give in and weather the storm.

Warnings;;

Dark fic!! Toxic!Seonghwa, abusive/loveless relationship, obsessive behaviour, reader is a sub, oral sex (m!receiving), degradation + use of ‘Daddy’, sadistic Seonghwa, threat of a belting, video filming w/ threat of blackmail, slight dacryphilia

Notes;;

Valentine’s Prompts : Cat and Mouse + Rose Petals

I’ve gotta post this so I can move on tbh

Second half went to shit because I was uncomfortable lmfao

My beta reader said, "Seonghwa is an asshole! He made me feel bad about myself!" so fair warning

Main Masterlist || ATEEZ Masterlist

   You met a boy a few weeks ago and he’s everything. From his dazzling smile to his kind eyes and his warm personality, he’s what many would consider ‘perfect’. When he calls you late at night it’s to hear you talk, not to summon you to his side. His gifts are the type you can show your family rather than hiding them within your closet. He even compromises. For the first time in years you’ve been given a voice. And the best part of it all is that he wants to go steady with you.

   As in your boyfriend.

   You, with a real, proper boyfriend. If only your younger self could see you now, living the life of a romance protagonist – grand gestures and all. He’s on the flashy side but it’s in good faith. No harm, no foul, even if sometimes it’s embarrassing when done in front of your coworkers and friends. At least he’s open with his feelings unlike your last… fling. You can’t even call it a relationship; he’d never acknowledged you as anything other than his little mouse.

   Clenching your hands around the steering wheel, you inhale fresh air into your tired lungs. Your exhale comes too soon, too fast. Inhaling deeper, you let loose the anger you have toward him. Not in an explosive outburst but with a gentle sigh. Negativity breeds negativity and you’ve had your fill. Good things are on the horizon for those who seek them out and you’re ready to reap the seeds of change you’ve sown. It’s only getting better from here on out, that’s what your life coach says, and this year it actually feels true.

   And so you had packed up your things, deleted his number, and met someone better.

   You’ve been born anew and given a second chance.

   Manifest your dreams.

   It’s a mantra (one of many taught to you through some online self-help program that costs more than your mortgage) that you repeat to yourself. Over and over the words loop inside your brain as you pull up to your house. The ‘spend money to make money’ has yet to prove true but you plan to add a garage once it does. For now you settle for parking in the driveway and going through the motions as you put up the sun shade. It darkens the vehicle, makes it cosier.

   Taking out your phone you check for new messages, brave enough to face the repercussions of your actions now that you’re alone and detached from the world. To your relief there’s nothing from either man. Perhaps he’s letting you go without a fight, maybe even moving on to his next toy. While that does alleviate some tension, it’s only temporary. Your stomach is quick to fold in on itself, stretching and contorting at the cruel realisation that you can’t ascertain just which of the two you wish the statement were true for.

   Brilliant streaks of purple and orange paint the sky as dusk approaches. If you stay in your car any longer, night will fall and the air will turn bitter. Grabbing your bag, you slip your phone back inside before walking up the narrow pathway to your quaint home. It’s nothing extravagant but it’s yours and there’s not very many things you can say that for. The porch features a rickety chair, two (dead) potted plants, a welcome mat that’s years overdue for a replacement, and… roses?

   Blood red petals greet you upon your approach. Most have blown away but some still linger, welcoming you home. Aside from the glass vase holding the bulk of the flowers, there’s some shoved in between the main door and the storm door. It’s just the buds, as well as a plethora of loose petals. In a way they beckon you to enter. Grabbing the vase, you indulge them.

   The petals tumble around your feet the moment the storm door creaks open. It’s a stark contrast; the ruby red dripping onto your fading black shoes is reminiscent of an artsy noir film. Despite the queasiness it invokes, you can’t help but smile. This is exactly the kind of outrageous display your (dare you say it?) boyfriend is prone to. Taking a deep breath, the sweetest aroma caresses you. It’s everything you could ever wish for.

   He’s everything you could ever wish for.

   You reach for your phone to shoot off a text to your boyfriend when a cold gust whips down the street. Violent and sudden, it steals several lawn chairs and flamingos, snapping them in half as they slam against cars and fences. The rose petals and their enticing fragrance are blown away without a trace. Picking up in velocity, the wind slams the glass storm door into your side, threatening you to go inside or face its wrath.

   Sometimes it’s best to relent and just weather the storm.

   Pushing open your main house door, you turn back to grab the storm door lest it be torn from its hinges. It’s a game of tug-o-war. Forced to abandon the rose vase on the ground, you dig in with your heels to get the upper hand on the torrential winds. Leveraging your body against the threshold, you apply what little knowledge of physics you recall from school to create a fulcrum between the wall and your knee. It does the trick and the door shuts with a thunderous crack. With no energy to fight further, you close and lock the house door as well.

   The house is plunged into darkness. Unlike the car, it’s not comforting in any way, shape or form. Even though it’s been your home for several months now, there’s something unnatural about the way the shadows sit. You toss your handbag into their hungry grasp. It thuds against the couch.

   While the storm has yet to reach peak levels of destruction, it may have still killed the electricity. You pray it hasn’t. Finding the switch through pure muscle memory and instinct, you flip it on and--

   Light floods your small living room. Licking up the length of your spine, shivers wrack your body into a tremor. Everything is red. In the seconds it takes for your eyes to adjust, you’re reminded of Seonghwa. He liked you best when you were red: red lips, red lace, red eyes, red cuts.

   Even when you distinguish the sea of red on your beige carpet to be roses, tears sting the corners of your eyes. This isn’t right. Petals litter your floor, lining a path up toward your bedroom. A pair of teddy bears await you at the top of the stairway. One is holding a rose while the other is made of roses.

   Step by step you make your way to the top.

   You don’t bother to wonder how he got inside. When Seonghwa wants something, he gets it. And who else but Seonghwa would go to this much effort just to torment you? Playing with your heart is a pastime he can’t help but indulge. Love is, after all, a game to him. You’re a game to him.

   Picking up the fluffy bear, you sniff the rose attached to its little paw. It’s pointless when the whole house smells this way but the action itself seems like something a leading actress would do before she smiles coyly at her beloved. You cradle the bear to your chest and continue toward the inevitable, following the path he so carefully laid out for you.

   The closer you get to your bedroom, the less fight you have. There’s a faint glow colouring your door in orange and flickering shadows. Despair weighs you down until all you can muster is the dragging of your feet along the plush carpet. Beyond the spattering of candles no doubt lies a punishment. It’s one you deserve, which makes the whole situation worse.

   Collecting the few articles of clothes he allowed you to keep at his place in the middle of the day with nary a note was a low-blow, even for you. And though you weren’t a couple, it’s still courteous to officially end a relationship you never plan to revisit. Blocking him on all your social media and changing your number wasn’t the right way to do it. Facing him head on, however, never felt like a viable option.

   With your hand on the knob, you look down to take a deep breath and regret it immediately. The candles are set up in the shape of a heart. Another display, another act. He’s meticulous and sadistic, and this is a statement. How’d you ever get tied up with such a monster? Not bothering to hold back, tears crawl down your face as you push open the door. At least now you’re bearing gifts - he always did love to see you cry.

   Sprawled out on your bed, he’s staring at the ceiling when you enter. His leather-clad legs are spread wide and his arms prop his head up. Disappointment twists his lips into a scowl. The effect it has - he has - on you is instantaneous. Dropping your head in shame, you close the door and take a step toward him, embracing your teddy bear tighter for support.

   Rising to a sitting position, he crooks his finger and beckons you forward. “Come here.”

   “Seonghwa, I’m sor–”

   “Quiet.”

   Your mouth clamps shut. Doing as he says, you cross the room in silence. He stands to shimmy out of his plain white shirt, abandoning it on the floor. The action leaves his hair tousled. As always, he’s a sight to behold.

   Clicking his fingers and pointing down toward his feet, he says, “Get on your knees.”

   “But–”

   “Now.”

   Ever dutiful to his command, you drop to your knees. The carpet does little to cushion your fall and a sharp jolt claws up your leg. You know better than to keep him waiting, however, so you ignore the pain in favour of unbuckling his belt. The metal is cold to the touch and your fingers tremble. While the design isn't intricate you struggle to remove it, earning an impatient sigh.

   "Fucking useless," he mutters, slapping your hands aside. "The only thing you're good for is sucking cock, isn't that right?"

   You nod as he removes the belt with deft fingers. Dark eyes glower down at your quivering form. Seonghwa has a way of tearing people apart with a single look – you've always felt so insignificant beneath him.

   Unable to hold his gaze, you drop your head. Just when your life was taking a positive turn, he had to stroll back into it. While you didn't know the 'how', the 'why' of his return was more pressing. Couldn't he find a new plaything to break? Why did it have to be you?

   Somewhere overhead comes the crack of his belt. It whips through the air and a small breeze rushes against your face. You flinch, falling back on your heels. Tears well in your eyes. At a pace much too slow for his growing impatience, you return your focus to Seonghwa.

   "Pathetic." He laughs. It's a venomous sound, filled with malice and malintention. "Hurry up."

   It's easier to work under great pressure; buttons and zippers are undone with little hesitation despite how bleary your moist eyes are. Smooth like marble, you pull his pants down his soft thighs. You don't bother to take them off completely, instead hooking your fingers within the band of his briefs. Guilt clenches at your gut.

   "Seonghwa, I ca–" You gulp when his eyes narrow. A scowl pulls at his lips as he shakes his head. The crack of his neck is ugly and violent. Gripping the belt buckle beneath paling knuckles, his spare hand tightens around the loose end, snapping the length into a thin line. "Daddy. I meant to s–"

   "God, I hate you," he spits, contempt seeping out from his every pore as he tosses the belt onto the bed. It's still within reach should he decide you need a punishment, a silent warning to keep you compliant.

   "I'm sorry," you murmur, biting back your sobs. From experience you know it annoys him more when you babble and whine, and while he loves torturing you to the point of tears, he despises hearing your 'cauterwauling'. "Sorry, I'm sor–"

   Pulling his cock free, he slaps it across your face. "Just shut up and suck."

   He tastes salty on your tongue. You take him deep, holding his thigh for support. When his cock hits the back of your throat, you wince. It’s too much. Tears spill down your cheeks. Your soft sobs vibrate around him and he groans, using his thumb to wipe the moisture from your face. He offers no respite as his hips piston forward. There’s no space for anything other than him, no room to breathe when he’s filling you completely.

   Looking up at him with heavy eyes, he’s a blur before you. One hand rests around your jaw, locking you in place while hollowing your cheeks. He holds something rectangular in the other. It gleams in the limited lighting, taunting you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you blink away the tears.

   “And I thought you had a boyfriend now?” he snickers, watching you through the screen of his phone. “Should I send him a little video? Show him how much of a slut you really are?”

   Your breath hitches. Using your stunned state to jut forward, he pushes his cock even deeper until you’re gagging around his length. He discards his phone on your bed before digging his nails into your scalp. Stinging pain explodes outward from his touch. Pushing through the ache of your jaw and the desperate burn of your throat, your tongue caresses him. Your technique is sloppy, drool leaking from the corner of your lips.

   Growing bored with your pathetic display, his foot tapping in quick succession, he releases you. You fall away, dropping to your hands as you sputter and cough. His cock shines with a thin veneer of saliva. Hard and proud, Seonghwa stands before you with a disdainful smirk darkening his edges. He strokes himself twice before snapping his fingers.

   “You’re not done, little mouse.”

   This time you don’t hesitate. You lick his pre-cum, tongue swirling around his tip before deepthroating him. It was your own naivety that led you here; deep down you’ve always known you couldn’t escape Seonghwa. There’s no point in trying – you belong to him. You moan around him, just the way he likes, and his hand finds purchase atop your head. Enclosing you within his palm, he pets you, the gesture almost comforting. Leaning into his touch, you suck his cock with fervour. His words are a purr that echo within your skull.

   "Guess my little whore still loves Daddy best.”

  – ♡ –  If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you!

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yandere ateez #yandere seonghwa #yandere kpop #kpop smut #kpop x reader #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #yandere au

[kasha-formerlydrabbletastic]

A Pretty Stubborn Something

Part 1 / Part 3 / Bonus / Part 4

Steve Harrington x Wife!Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Steve and the reader are on a hiking trail and things get steamy.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Public sex. P in V sex. Oral sex (f receiving). 

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Inching toward the edge of a cliff, you're intent on seeing the bottom of the gorge for yourself; you'd heard from some locals you and Steve had encountered in an RV park last night that it was a sight to behold, a hike with a beautiful destination, perfect for beginners. Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear of tipping over the edge and falling to your death pumping through your veins, but if you're careful enough, you think, you should be okay.

In your peripherals you notice motion and you look to your left. Steve is lowering himself to the ground on his hands and knees, approaching the edge before settling himself onto his belly. Your backpacks lay off to the side, waiting for you to pick them back up again.

"What are you doing?" you ask with a giggle.

He looks up at you, his expression as serious as ever. "I'm making sure I don't fall over like an idiot. And as your husband, I suggest you do the same. I'd like to keep you for as long as possible, if that's alright."

"Low and flat, less likely to topple," you reply, smiling fit to burst. "Thank you for the tip, Mr. Harrington."

He watches you, his expression softening as you copy his method. The two of you are now face down in the grass, grinning like children as you army crawl to the edge.

"Let's check out this view, Mrs. Harrington," he says.

"Absolutely," you answer, and the pair of you scoot forward until your heads poke over the side.

"Oh, wow," Steve says, the awe in his voice making him quiet.

Wow is right, you think, taking in the small river at the bottom; it's almost crystal clear, the rocks at the bottom very visible from this point of view, and dotted on either bank with groups of shady trees, their leaves greener than you'd ever seen. You figure the smaller shapes moving in the water are fish, swimming with the current under the sparkles that reflect off the surface from the sun.

"Oh, look!" Steve says, pointing over the edge; you follow his prompt to a doe and her fawns on the opposite bank, the small family of deer leaning into the water for a drink.

"Oh, this is cool," you murmur, trying to keep quiet to avoid scaring the deer off.

"If we ever see that couple again," Steve says quietly, reaching for your hand, "we gotta thank them for this. This is gorgeous."

With your other hand, you reach for your camera, pulling it from your pocket and pointing it at the deer. A few clicks later, you've got some pictures of the family, a nice keepsake for your photo album.

"Let me see that," Steve says, beckoning for the camera.

You hand it over, thinking he's going to have a different view point of the gorge, but all he does is point it at you.

"Smile, beautiful," he says, smiling himself.

"Steve," you playfully reprimand. "That one is for the sights."

"And what better sight is there than my beautiful wife in this beautiful place?"

As soon as you laugh, he takes a picture. He rolls away to get a more complete view of you and you play along; you lift your head and feet in a coy pose, pointing your toes and smiling wide for Steve.

"Oh, yes," he praises, getting to his knees for a higher view point. "Yes, baby. Yes! Work the camera, work the camera!"

You can't help but laugh as you roll onto your side, your head resting on one hand and the other on your hip. Steve gets to his feet, standing above you as you roll onto your back, stretching and posing to show off your curves.

"Yes, baby," he says. "You're a natural. Have you ever considered modeling as a career?"

He clicks the camera until he can't anymore, the tell-tale whirring of the film inside indicating the end of the roll.

"Oh, damn," he says. "You got another roll on you?"

"Yes," you answer, propping yourself up on your elbows as he drops to his knees again, sitting back on his feet. "But it's for the sights. You can't be wasting it all on me, you know."

"Is it really a waste, though?" he asks, setting the camera down a safe distance away. "Because, honestly, I'd just like to take pictures of you all the time. You're gorgeous."

"But what if I want to take pictures of you?" you ask; you meet his sparkling eyes, filled with joy and, if you're not mistaken, just a touch of lust.

"We'll have plenty of time for that," he answers. "But hold still. You got something right here."

He leans down, brushing your hip off and accidentally pushing your shirt up.

"Dammit," he says, now brushing at your bare skin. "It's just not coming off. Looks like I'm just gonna have to..."

He lowers himself onto his hands above you, eyes fixed on yours before his lips touch your hip. You smirk at him, watching as he slowly presses kiss after kiss just above the waistband of your shorts. With every brush of his lips, your skin tingles, the sensation finding its way through your nerves and deep into your core.

"That's a pretty stubborn something, isn't it?" you ask with a giggle.

"Definitely," he murmurs against your skin. "It looks like I might be down here for a while. You might as well get comfortable."

You grin as he bites at the button of your shorts, popping it open before his lips meet the exposed skin underneath. His fingers take over then, pulling the zipper down and holding your shorts open. He kisses over your skin, over your panties before he simply tugs them down your legs, pausing to pull off your sneakers before you lay half bare before him.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he says, his hands starting at your knees and smoothing up the soft skin of your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart.

He props himself up on his hands over you, lowering himself until his lips meet where you leg joins your hip. His mouth traces the crook, not stopping until he nibbles at one of your lips; his tongue glides over it, his lips gently sucking it in before doing the same for the other.

"Steeeeeve," you whine, watching his eyes glitter with mischief. "You're such a tease."

"You wouldn't have me any," he plants a kiss to your mound, "other," he plants another just above your womb, "way."

With that, he dips back down, pulling the tip of his tongue through your slick lips, flicking at your clit as you moan.

"Fuck!" you say, fingers diving into his hair at once.

Steve takes his time, tracing every last nerve of your clit, tasting every twitch and every buck as your hips chase his mouth. He pulls your clit between his lips, sucking on it before letting his teeth graze it. With every moan and whimper that dances from your lips, his enthusiasm doubles, his eagerness to swallow your climax the same as it's always been. His hands press your thighs up and open, allowing him to feast between them without interruption.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper as he slips two fingers into you, gently gliding them in and out, listening to the squelch of your arousal before he hooks them into your g-spot. "Ah, Steve!"

All the while, the high builds in your core, making you squirm under your husband. You press your hips against his face, seeking your climax quicker than he can give it to you, just as his arm comes to rest over your pelvis. Steve holds you down, continuing his quest for your pleasure. He moans into your cunt as your fingers grip his hair, lost in your taste, in your scent.

"Oh my g- " you pant, "Steve, so close... so fucking close..."

He focuses his efforts, keeping a steady pace against your clit and g-spot, sparking a riotous feeling in your belly. He knows exactly how to play you, consistent in his efforts until you burst.

"Fuck!" you cry out as your climax rips through your body, your cunt pulsing around Steve's fingers. "Fuck, Steve! Oh my god!"

He doesn't stop until your body relaxes, slowing down as he slips his fingers out of you. His tongue slows, languidly stroking before he presses kisses against your tender clit. When you've fully relaxed against the grass, he drags those kisses up over your garden of pubic hair and up your tummy. He shoves your t-shirt up to expose your ribs kissing each and every one as he pulls your shirt from you. He tosses the shirt on top of your shorts before he pulls back the bra covering your tits, tugging the straps down to uncover your hardened nipples.

"Baby," he moans, his lips closing over one before his tongue swirls around it.

"God, Steve," you sigh, holding him close. "Come here."

You guide his mouth up to yours, tasting yourself the moment your lips connect. You moan into the kiss, fingers fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt before you pull it over his head. His lips meet yours as soon as possible as he hums into the kiss; your fingers travel down his hairy chest, following the swell of his muscles until you pull the button of his shorts open.

"Hold on," he says, kissing you once, twice, three times before he rises to his knees.

He pulls his backpack forward, unzipping a pocket and diving into it to pull out a condom.

"So very confident, aren't we?" you giggle.

"Is it confidence or is it just an easy prediction?" he asks, the foil packet between his teeth as he tugs his shorts and boxers down. "Remember, we barely made it out of the wedding ceremony and into the limo before you climbed onto my lap and fucked me stupid?"

"You can't say you didn't like it," you laugh, eyes fixed on his thick cock.

"What? Are you asking if I like having the horniest wife in the world?" he teases, placing the condom over the tip of his dick and slowly rolling it down his shaft. "You see, you can't even look me in the eye when my dick's out. It's like the only thing you married me for."

You laugh, a blush burning along your cheeks as he lowers himself to his hands over you; his cock rests against your lower tummy as he presses kisses over your neck and chest.

"Please," you counter. "Don't tell me you forgot the moment during the reception you saw me bending over to talk to my nephew and decided to pull me away so you could fuck me stupid."

"Totally different," he says against your sternum, his lips following the curve of your breast. "Your ass looked great in that wedding dress, babe."

"Then you must've married me for my ass. I guess we're even, huh?"

Steve looks up at you, a glittering smile on his face as he brings it level with yours. Your lips meet once again, slow and tender as he reaches down between your legs.

"Mmm..." you moan into his mouth as he tickles your clit with his cock, brushing up and down and up and down before he plunges in. "Fuck me!"

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groans when he's fully seated. "God, I fucking love the way you take me."

He only moves to straighten up, hitching your hips up his thighs before he pulls back; he watches your body as he pushes back in slowly, delighting in the way that you squirm for him. His hand slowly crosses your hips, his thumb pressing gentle circles to your clitoris as he pulls back again.

"That's right, baby," he says gently as you bring your hands to your tits. "Touch yourself. Feel how sexy you are."

Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts as Steve begins to thrust; he bites his lip as he watches them bounce, even after you've pinched your nipples between your fingertips. His thumb works against your clitoris, still sensitive and sparking like a live wire.

"Fuck, baby," you moan, closing your legs around his ass to encourage him deeper.

He leans forward, lowering himself onto one arm as he kisses you, all teeth and tongue and desperation as his hips snap quicker.

"All those pretty sounds you're making, babe," he sighs against your lips. "They're making it so hard for me."

"Yeah?" you tease, pressing kisses along his stubbly jawline. "How hard?"

Steve chuckles, pulling your hands above your head and pinning them to the ground before he picks up speed. His hips slam into yours as his free hand strokes your clit, and he groans with his efforts. The head of his cock drags along your g-spot with every thrust, your nerves tingling with imminent ecstasy.

"Fuck," you whine against his neck. "Fuck, you feel so good."

You drag your teeth along the sensitive skin of his pulse point, and you feel his hand tighten around your wrists.

"Baby," he pants. "Come for me, baby."

Not moments after he commands it, do you feel the snap in your core; your cunt seizes around his cock, pure bliss flowing through your veins from head to toe.

"Oh, fuck!" Steve grunts, his hips stuttering as he spills into the condom.

He comes to a stop above you, his breath fast and warm against your mouth. His lips brush yours, gentle and soft as ever, as the two of you level out. Scooping you and your jelly limbs into his arms, Steve helps you sit up, coming face to face with you with a smile. 

“Hi,” you laugh, watching him stand. 

“Hi,” he replies, helping you to your feet. “Should probably get dressed before someone else comes along.”

Another blush sets your cheeks aflame as you remember you’re on a hiking trail where anyone could pass by, coming across your rather indecent display. Who’s to say nobody did see it, thought? you think. You were too distracted to notice anything else.

“Steve!” you hiss, grabbing your clothes and hopping into them in record time. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Steve laughs, putting his shorts back on. “I would never let anyone else see you naked.”

“Oh, really?” you say, putting your shoes back on. “You mean to tell me that you’re not actually thinking about that threesome Eddie suggested?”

Steve avoids your eye, putting his shirt on. You watch as he gathers up your bags, grabbing you gently by the arm.

“Let’s just finish this trail,” he says quickly, his cheeks turning red. 

“Whatever you say,” you reply. “Big Boy.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

[thepromptswhisperer]

Idioms Prompts

Break the ice.

We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Have an ace up one’s sleeve.

Rain on someone’s parade.

Play devil’s advocate.

Beat around the bush.

Lose your marbles.

The grass is always greener on the other side.

At the drop of a hat.

Paint the town red.

Spill the beans.

Skeletons in the closet.

Bury one’s head in the sand.

Follow in someone’s footsteps.

Bite off more than you can chew.

Sit on the fence.

Leave no stone unturned.

The ball is in someone’s court.

Cut to the chase.

Add fuel to the fire.

Stick-in-the-mud.

The last/final straw.

(Be skating) On thin ice.

Look like you’ve seen a ghost.

Tie the knot.

In the fast lane.

Have one’s head in the clouds.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Twist someone’s arm.

Drop the ball.

Read between the lines.

Hit the hay.

Be in someone’s shoes.

The icing on the cake.  

That ship has sailed.

Hit the books.

Burn one’s bridges.

Thank your lucky stars.

Go nuts.

Put your foot in your mouth.

Go the extra mile.

Jump on the bandwagon.

Ring a bell.

The calm before the storm.

Take something with a pinch of salt.

Turn over a new leaf.

Be on cloud nine.

Break a leg.

Get the short end of the stick.

A walk in the park.

Get cold feet.

That’s the way the cookie crumbles.

Someone’s hands are tied.

Get off on the right/wrong foot.

Pick someone’s brain.

More:

➔  Spill The Beans Prompts

#writing prompts #writing inspiration #idiom prompts #random prompts #assorted prompts #writing ideas prompt list

[notyour-valentine]

Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby 8 ~ Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC (Series)

[Masterlist] [Taglist][Series Masterlist]

Summary: Tommy and Charlotte discuss her ideas, and Tommy starts to doubt the simplicity of his plan

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption.I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 3399 words

Part 8

Mr. Shelby and her went through her report, talking the points through and she tried her best to answer them all. 

They wrote down follow up questions that were beyond both their expertise and started discussing possibilities. His suit jacket soon found itself over the back of his chair. And a little while later, he rolled his sleeves up. He didn’t seem to mind getting in a state of undress in front of her, and Charlotte tried desperately not to focus on it. She wasn’t sure when she had last seen anyone take their jacket off in front of her - if ever. And no one but the gardeners in summer rolled up their sleeves. 

She tried very hard not to stare, but it was a rather intriguing site, especially knowing he felt comfortable enough to do so. All the while Charlotte wished she could at least take her hat off, but so were the rules. She’d have to bear it. 

“Yes, but at the same time it is important not to locate it too far from the community. It is for them after all.”, she said. “It has to be visible, accessible, at least in my opinion.” He nodded slightly and made a note, his silver pen scratching over the paper. Then he checked his pocket watch. 

“Right. Why don’t we take a break?”, he asked. “Some lunch, eh?”

“Yes, that sounds lovely.”, she said. He helped her into her coat and told her to leave the files. 

Outside, Lizzie was waiting. “We’ll be gone a bit.”

“Sure you are.”, she said, rolling her eyes. 

Charming. 

Tommy built himself up in front of her desk and looked down at her. 

“Lizzie,”, he said, in that calm and stern voice,  “Lady Charlotte is here for charity business. She is important for the future of some of my enterprises and I will be working a lot with her in the future. Get used to it."

She pursed her painted lips, but let them go. “So I gather you are pleased with my report?”, she asked, trying to hide her smile. “That’s what you got from that, eh?”, he asked. 

“Was I wrong?”

He shook his head as they walked down the stairs together. People moved out of both their way as if she was accompanying a king. 

The car parked right outside was already familiar to her and so she knew where to go. 

And he seemed to have something in mind as well, some place he wanted to take her. She was curious to ask, but also knew she wouldn’t get an answer. He was secretive in a way, and besides, she would know soon enough. 

“When do you have to be back?”, he asked, as the long streets of Birmingham gave way to smaller, greener houses. 

“I have to be in York at five and then I can be back for dinner.”

“They let you out of their sight for that long?”, he asked with a slight smirk, as he began to drive.

“Well,”, Charlotte said, trying desperately not to get flustered, “they don’t know I am out of their sight.”

He glanced over, his eyes leaving the road to rest on her instead.

 “How’d you manage that?”, he asked. “I enlisted the help of my aunt. They think I am spending the day with her in York.”

“Your aunt from London?”, he wanted to know. “No. That’s Aunt Rosamund. I talked to Aunt Isobel- she’s not really my aunt, more like the widow of a distant cousin, really. She is Cousin Matthew’s mother.” “The heir.” Sometimes she was surprised by how much he knew of her. 

“Yes, the heir.”

Even though he was far more than that by now. 

“So he’s the heir even though your father has four children.” Charlotte swallowed hard and looked down at her lap. 

“That’s the way the world works, Mr. Shelby.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “No, no it's really not.”

She didn’t know if his tone was exasperated or amused. 

“But it’s how my world works."

It sounded almost sad when she said it, but she wasn’t sad. She was resigned, maybe, but not sad. Matthew was a good man, he would be a great community leader one day. And there was no one better suited to fill the role of a great Lord than a good man. 

“We’re not in your world now.”, he said as he stopped the car. They had driven out of Birmingham, into a small village, not unlike Downton. 

“What are we doing here?”, she asked as he helped her out. He smiled slightly as he put a hand on the small of her back. 

“C’mon. Well, if you have only eaten in a restaurant twice, I bet you haven’t ever been in a pub, eh?”

She stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. “You’re taking me to a pub?”, she asked breathlessly. 

“Yep. But don’t expect a wine selection.”

She was barely able to hide her giggles as she fell in step with him again, linking her arm with his. “You’re really taking me to a pub?”, she asked. 

The Grantham Arms was the only pub she had ever seen from the inside, and only for a few minutes, when she was saying hello or goodbye or the like. 

“Yep.”, he said. 

The first thing she noticed was the wood clothing on the inside, dark, carved wood, like the tudor style, in a way. There were tables with chairs and those with benches let into the wall. 

“Could we sit there? If we get to choose where we sit.”, she whispered to him, nodding towards it. 

“You can sit where you like, eh?”, he said. 

Charlotte couldn’t believe her luck. The tables were made from harsh wood as well and not hidden under table cloths. She let her fingers run over the smooth surface, while drinking in the atmosphere. There were many people here, all not caring at all when they entered. 

“Why did we go here?”

“Nice and quiet.”, he said, as he sat down opposite her. 

“I feel guilty for making you come all this way.”, she admitted. “Are there no nice and quiet places in Birmingham?”

“Not many.”, he admitted. 

“It wasn’t at all like I expected.”, she said.. “What did you expect?”, he wanted to know. Charlotte considered for a moment. “I don’t really know. Maybe I am surprised because I didn’t know what to expect.”

He hummed. 

“A’right, lovelies, what can I get ya?”, a small, stout woman asked, as she came over to them. 

It was the second time she had been called by that name today, and this time she really did like it. There was no menu card, neither in French nor English, but the dishes written on a chalkboard above the bar. 

All the while she tried desperately to contain her giddiness, but she was acting like a silly debutante would act, on the night of her first ball- at least in the novels, chewing on her lip as much as her food as not to grin like a cat that’s got the cream. She very nearly managed it, but whenever she thought she just about had it under control, her eyes met his. He looked bemused by her, and that slight trace of a smile on his lips broke all her hard put up barriers. 

“I thought you’d like it. I didn’t think you’d like it this much.”, he admitted. “You’re acting like I’ve taken you to Buckingham Palace.”

Charlotte leaned forward slightly.

“This is much infinitely better than Buckingham Palace!”

That made him chuckle, although he hid it behind his hand, closed into a fist in front of his mouth. 

“So what’s it like in Buckingham Palace?”, he wanted to know. “It’s painfully stuffy and hot. Not a lot of the windows open, you see, and all the rooms are always filled with people who do nothing but stand around and try to look as important as they feel.”

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “Not a good sales pitch.”

“That’s because it’s a very bad deal.”, she said flat out. Maybe her bluntness startled him, but he looked genuinely confused. 

“I thought you lot were monarchists.”

“We are, absolutely. But that doesn’t mean we want any part of that. Especially not now the stakes have been upped.”, she said with a sigh. “Now?”, he asked. 

Charlotte glanced around the pub but then she decided that there was no one here to overhear. “Well, talk is that their Majesties are desperate for their children to marry both swiftly and British.”, she said. “They are getting rather desperate, now that they have to prove how British they are, and with no more German Princesses to marry.”

“How do you know that?”, he wanted to know. "People talk. People always talk. And of course my godfather knows things too.” “Who’s your godfather?”, he wanted to know. 

“Lord Flintshire. He works in the imperial office.”

He nodded slowly and tilted his head as if mentally making notes. “But that’s enough about my family. What about yours?”

Mr. Shelby cleared his throat. “Well, they’re not monarchists and they don’t work for Queens and Kings.”, he said. 

Charlotte tilted her head. “But you have brothers, don’t you?”, she asked. “Shelby Brothers Limited.”

“That’s the old name.”, he argued. “But yes, I have brothers.”

“Just John and Arthur?”, she wanted to know. 

He tilted his head in recognition. “How do you know that?”, he wanted to know. “I sent your name to the war office, after you told me you were a veteran yourself.”, she admitted. 

Within the blink of an eye, his demeanour had changed, not by anything he did, but by the way, he made her feel. 

Charlotte hadn’t said anything wrong, but it felt like she had. Slowly, he lowered his hand. 

It was more curious because there was nothing strange she had discovered, on the contrary even. He had won medals that would even have impressed Papa, only he didn’t seem to think her actions were in his favour. 

Lighting another cigarette, he seemed to relax slightly. “Three brothers and a sister.”, he said, elaborating on her previous question. 

“And she’s your favourite.”

It was her chance to lighten the mood and it seemed to have worked, as he looked up surprised. 

“How do you know that?”, he wanted to know. 

“I didn’t, until now.”

When he realised she had caught him out, he tilted his head in acknowledgement. 

“What is it like growing up with so many boys? We were only ever girls.”

“Probably more civilised?”, he suggested. She couldn’t help but giggle.. 

“Oh yes, I believe that at once.”

He gave her a questioning look, but she didn’t answer. He didn’t have to know everything about her yet. The great wars of Mary and Edith weren’t exactly something they had to write on their address card. 

“Why didn’t you tell your parents where you were?”, he wanted to know. 

Charlotte took a deep breath. 

“My father can’t say no if I don’t ask him.”, she said shyly. 

“You would stop if he told you so?"

Charlotte glanced down at her lap, biting the inside of her lip. “If he decided against it.", she admitted.  “I cannot disappoint him."

The thought alone made her chest tighten. 

“You love him?”, he asked. 

“Of course I do.”, she said breathlessly. “He’s my father!” At that, Mr. Shelby only scoffed. But then he got up and helped her do the same. “Let’s go for a walk before we head back, eh?”, he asked. 

That sounded like a good idea and so she fell in step with him. Once again, he seemed like he was lost in his thoughts, but she knew he was both far away and right here at the very same time. 

Whatever he thought, he didn’t share it, but she wished he would. In the back of her mind she remembered all the conversational lessons from her governess, but she knew they wouldn’t work on Mr. Thomas Shelby. She had a hinting suspicion that that was something he wouldn’t like at all. 

~

Tommy was still uncertain in what to do next. 

She was being….difficult in a way, with her wide eyed way of looking at the world. Also, someone who would turn down a job because it would upset their father may not be the exact type of person to give in to his advances as easily as he had hoped. 

So this was as much a test as it was a step in his growing plan of the Shelby Family Foundation. 

She had come armed with a notebook and a bag of sweets for their visits to the orphanages. 

Most Birmingham orphanages were in the hands of either the state, with the city not even daring, or the church. 

"It might not be all pretty today.", He warned her, standing in front of the grey stone building. He had heard tales and those tales did not surprise him. 

She knew Birmingham from the green, the museum and his official office in Digbeth, carefully selected, hand picked insights. This would be different. 

"I understand.", She said. "But we are here to make things better, aren't we?"

Don't. 

She looked almost inconspicuous now, wearing that white lace blouse again, tied in front with a small bow, and a dark red skirt. She could almost pass for a secretary, but the fact that her hat, coat and shoes always matched gave her away. 

They were quickly taken into the office of the Abbess, where another nun served them tea before she arrived. 

"Good morning.", She said, looking him up and down suspiciously. Tommy knew that look well, but that's why he had Charlotte. 

"Mr. Shelby.", She greeted. 

Tommy nodded. 

"This is Lady Charlotte Crawley, she is an advisor of the Shelby Family Foundation.", He introduced, noticing how Charlotte seemed to sit up a little straighter than she already did. 

"Good morning, Lady Charlotte."

"Good morning.", She replied with a charming smile. 

"So you are interested in becoming patrons of our orphanages?"

"That is one of the options we are currently following.", Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. 

He gave Charlotte a nod and leaned back in his chair. 

It would be better for her to take over now. She was so good at conversation and people liked to listen to a Lady. 

"We are very interested in supporting the education, health and welfare of disadvantaged children born into this city.", She began, "as your order runs three of the largest orphanages, we thought to come and ask if you could give us some insight into your work."

Sister Margaret tilted her head and glanced her up and down. 

Tommy held his breath, wondering if his gamble was going to play off. 

She wouldn't be rude to him, for that he had too big a name. The question - the deciding question - was how she would take to Charlotte. 

The old woman seemed to take all of her in, from head to toe, her looks, her clothes, the way she sat. The way she smiled. 

"Of course, Milady.", She said. 

Then she went into numbers, into how the children arrived, how things were run and Charlotte had all the right follow up questions. 

If they are in such a poor condition, is their health assessed?

Are they provided with new clothes? Who pays for these clothes? 

Where do they sleep? 

Where do they stay? 

Where do they go to school? 

Then they were taken on a tour through the grounds. It didn't look all too bad, but it was cold- the stone, the high walls, the windows. It was cold. There was a yard inside but it was just plain green. 

Tommy let the Sister and Charlotte walk first. It was clear that she was proud to receive a proper Lady, something not often seen in Birmingham, and so she made an effort. 

Let her, he thought. That was why she was here. 

"The children are sorted by gender and age.", She explained on the way to the dormitories, rows of beds to each side with a small bedside table and a chest at the end of it. 

"We keep the separation up during lessons and meals as well, with different sides for boys and girls."

"And what of siblings?", Charlotte asked. 

"Them too."

She glanced over at Tommy and in her eyes he could see her disapproval at that. 

Not that the nun ever knew. 

Upon request, they were also shown to the dining hall and the bathrooms. 

"What subjects are taught here?", She wanted to know, as they passed the school rooms.

"Just basic. Many children aren't even able to read or write so we try to instruct them with that at least.", Sister Margaret explained. 

"Indeed?", Charlotte asked. 

Her heels echoed through the hall as she passed along between the rows. 

"Might we see the children?", She asked finally. 

"I can have some brought up so you can have a conversation with them, if you like.", She offered but Charlotte declined. 

"There is no need to take them away from their peers. Where are they now?"

"In classes."

Her smile left no room for argument. 

"The girls' lessons are here. I will gladly show you, but a male presence like Mr. Shelby might disturb them.", She said. 

As long as I can pay, eh?

"Go ahead. I'll wait here.", He said, leaning against a pillar and lighting another cigarette. 

See? A voice inside him said. She is good at this. She is good at this and she likes it and it is for a good cause. 

But it wasn't the only voice. 

It was quite a while before she returned and in that time, Thomas Shelby had changed his mind five times. He had even considered tossing a coin again, but what use was it if he felt deep down that he might not obey its call. 

"And?", He asked. 

Charlotte pursed her lips. "I understand the separate sleeping arrangements, but I don't see why lessons have to be separate and especially not dinners. I can't imagine why no one thought of siblings. They shouldn't separate them."

That's the whole point, Tommy thought but he didn't say. 

"So what do you say?", He wanted to know. 

"I think it's decent. Room for improvement, of course, but not awful."

"What would you improve?", He wanted to know. "Apart from the sibling arrangement."

She considered for a moment. 

"Apart from material things? Perhaps I'd suggest changing the school schedule a little. I am no expert on education but if they were saddled with a little more than just the basics, perhaps courses they could join at fourteen or sixteen in regards to further education or even specialization would give them a smoother transition into the working world. Most people start work through family contacts, I've read, and these children don't have that."

Tommy hummed softly. 

"If one were to maybe cooperate with larger companies in the area that would promise or at least encourage hiring, the entry into business would be easier, I think."

"Companies like my factories and my offices?", He asked, smirking slightly

Charlotte blushed slightly but she agreed. 

"It would make for a stable system, wouldn't you agree? A long term perspective."

That reminded him of something she had called to the Venetian concept, an idea based on the Italian city where orphans were educated in music and made good money later. She had made it sound like a fairytale but apparently it was true. 

"And they need to have more fun.", Charlotte said. "They are children after all. Maybe a playground or a small library for them."

"Fun in a library?", He wanted to know with a slight smirk. 

"If it's filled with children's books they might pick up reading as a pastime. What did you do for fun when you were little?", She asked. 

Memories flooded his brain. 

He saw himself and his brothers and friends back in the streets of Small Heath, trying to shoot or catch rats, playing war with wooden sticks or daring each other to pinch things for fun. He saw himself with his family on the green plains, the campfire, the trees, chasing rabbits and trying to fish with his bare hands.

~

Part 9

Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear your thoughts

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore

#valentineswritings #welcome to downton mr shelby #wtdms #charlotte crawley #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinders #downton abbey #peaky blinders / downton abbey #downton abbey / peaky blinders #downton abbey x peaky blinders #peaky blinders x downton abbey #peaky blinders crossover #downton abbey crossover #mary crawley #edith crawley #robert crawley #sybil crawley #cora crawley

[yourtravelpartnermanthan]

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#carpooling #carpool finder #one way cab #ride share #shared ride app #carpooling app #carpooling plateform #rideshared

[clyde49]

I've been writing Space Ghost fanfiction. If you don't want to leave Tumblr the fic is under the read more

“You know some days I wish we were just boring lesbians.”

Moltar was reeling after what he considered another epic battle with his nemesis Space Ghost. They saw each other by random chance in the parking lot of this, kinda dive buffet restaurant on the edge of town and Space Ghost had chased Moltar to an empty parking lot a few blocks down. They battled each other for a bit before once again they both got tuckered out and just crashed on the sidewalk. Space Ghost typically said some sort of weird shit afterwards but “boring lesbians” was a new one.

“What?”

Space Ghost just laid on his back looking up before gesturing his head to look at his adversary as much as he could without sitting up. He wasn't as scuffed up after the fight as Moltar wanted but he rarely was.

“Like, some days I wish we could both be mundane women who love each other and sit around watching movies or whatever lesbians do. Instead of just doing this every time we see each other outside of work. Like don't get me wrong I love combat to the death until we both get tired, but like. In another life we are probably both just people who love each other instead of freaks that beat each other up.”

“If we were boring lesbians we'd both wish we were aliens freaks beating eachother up.”

There was a moment of silence before Space Ghost responded.

“You think so?”

“Trust me. I've talked to enough lesbians, most of them I've met want to be kaijus.”

Moltar let it bubble in his head that none of his problems would really go away if he was a human woman. if anything he'd have more problems. He'd still worry about his family hating him and social awkwardness and his job. He just knows he'd get in more trouble when he sets shit on fire. Supervillains always get more mileage out of crime than normal people.

“It's a “grass is always greener” thing, Ghost. Plus I don't think there's anything lesbians can do that we can't.”

Moltar looked back at where Space Ghost was only to see that he was starting to stand back up.

“That's true, but It would be nice to just hang out for once. Watch a movie or play a board game or something.”

“We can hang out, I'm busy tomorrow but-”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Moltar processed if Space Ghost was just really curious about his schedule or accusing him of planning something illegal. Regardless, the shithead was walking towards him.

“Me and the boys were going to the arcade. They got this new fish game we are all excited to try.”

“Could I come with you?”

“Dude it's going to be like, Zorak and Metallus.”

“I know them.”

Moltar let out a heavy sigh as the disaster of how bringing Space Ghost as a one plus would go formed in his imagination. Zorak was more than enough to worry about. Moltar knew if he brought both the bug and the ghost to the arcade with him that the “Fishmaster XD: Fish of Darkness” machine wouldn't make it long enough for anyone to enjoy the new game.

“They don't like you. Technically, I don't even like you. If anything I hate you more than I hate most people.“

Space Ghost was hovering over Moltar at that point and Moltar could tell by the sad sack look on his face he was debating between helping him up, kicking him while he was down or just leaving.

“Would you like me if I was normal?”

Moltar laughed at that one.

“I wouldn't even look at you if you were normal.”

The Ghosts expression softened.

“Well I'm glad I'm Space Ghost then.”

Space Ghost offered Moltar a hand and Moltar graciously took the support as he stood back up himself.

For a while they just stood there together, looking at each other. Space Ghost always had this faint, almost glow to him. Moltar didn't have an exact word for it, but it was like he had VHS warmth filtered over his personal aura. Moltar knew himself to also be glowing and warm on the inside, underneath his hazard suit, but most people wouldn't know that. The Ghost would, but most people wouldn't. Space Ghost broke the silence after a long moment.

“How often do we do this?”

“Huh?”

“Our whole “fighting randomly in public” thing?”

“I think this is the fifth time in three months.”

Space Ghost seemed to look over at nothing before looking back at Moltar.

“Hey Moltar, did you eat dinner before we started this? because I didn't and I'm still hungry. If anything I'm hungrier now. How about you?”

Moltar would never admit it but he was really glad Space Ghost asked.

“yeah sorry about that, I haven't eaten yet either. I just saw ya and.”

“You threw a fireball at me and yelled a lot so I started chasing you, and we both know the rest.”

“Yeah”

“Yeah”

Space Ghost started doing that dumb little smile he always did when a thought somehow snuck into his brain without shriveling up on the way in and had been flourishing for a bit in his empty skull.

“You know Moltar, if you're still hungry, I'll buy for us both. if you would want to share a table with me”

Moltar would never admit this either, but even after everything, he felt giddy about the idea of dinner with Space Ghost.

“Eh, why not, as long as you're buying.”

“I have more than enough cash for two all-you-can-eat meals and a good tip. Plus I've got some ones if you want to try their crane machine game.”

“I've tried it, it kinda sucks but I'll gladly waste your money on it anyway.”

They both looked around the empty parking lot they found themselves in.

“Ok, what direction was the restaurant again?”

Moltar hummed to himself a bit.

“I have no idea.”

#space ghost #space ghost coast to coast #moltar #adult swim #sgc2c #Adult Swim fanfiction

[creatorofuniverses]

Day 17 – Size Swap

Today's prompt is size swap! For this I decided to go with a size-swap AU for In Deep Waters (regular story here), because it's a thought I've had for a while now and this is as good an excuse as any to write some of it. Enjoy!

____________________

My name is Jeremy Waters, and I have never left New Mexico.

I say this just to point out how mundane my life should be. I don’t take risks, I don’t put myself in dangerous situations. I’m not the kind of person who would, say, go hiking through the Alaskan wilderness. The most excitement I normally get is going out to happy hour with some friends.

I’m fine with that. Really. I don’t need or want much more excitement- I get anxious when there’s more traffic than usual. Boring suits me just fine. Hence why I live in the same town I grew up in, less than an hour from my aunt and uncle, in an apartment owned by a friend of a friend. The college I recently graduated from is a few blocks away, and my upcoming job as a court stenographer only necessitates a fifteen-minute drive.

My life, by all rights, should be entirely normal. Yet, recently it’s been nothing but strange.

Strange, and dangerous. 

It started with a walk in the park.

Well, not really, I’m sure it started in some other strange place with a much more unusual set of circumstances, but for me it started then and there. The park was a familiar one to me, being on the walk from my current apartment to the college I’d just graduated from a few weeks ago. Now, in the decent chunk of summer I had between graduation and the start of my new job, I often wound up at the park just to relax. It had a few trees for shade, as well as a retention pond, where ducks liked to hang out. Sometimes I would come and feed them lettuce, just for something to do.

I actually had brought lettuce that day – there was some in my backpack, flat and nearly-empty given that I had no plans for the day and no classes to go to anymore – but there were no ducks in the pond. Looking back, I think that’s why I wandered over rather than staying in the shade of the trees. It was kind of strange to not see even one bird there. The day was hot and dry enough that they would surely seek out the water.

I stepped off of the paved sandstone path and into the scraggly grass, which was doing its best to be green but had only reached a sort of parched greenish yellow. They didn’t waste much water on a sprinkler system for a park that was mostly rocks and benches. The grass got a little greener near the edge of the retention pond, and I stopped there, looking out at the relatively small body of water.

The surface was still. There wasn’t much wind that day, and no birds, so that didn’t strike me as odd at the time. What did seem odd was the amount of wood floating on top of the water, like some rotted old tree branch had crumbled into the pond. Only, there weren’t any trees close enough to do that, and all the trees in the park seemed perfectly healthy. Weird.

I crouched down near the edge of the water, watching the pieces bob slowly. One of the larger bits of wood, a few feet away, seemed to have something on it. I squinted for a few moments before realizing that it was a… doll? Must be. It was only about four inches long, though it was curled up with its eyes closed, as if it were sleeping. It was probably made to look that way. It was all wet, from its short black hair to its little boots, and I looked around with a furrowed brow, wondering if some kid had lost it here or if it had somehow been washed into the pond with the rest of the debris. There had been a bad storm the night before, though I hadn’t heard about anything drastic happening.

Maybe there was a parks and rec lost-and-found I could turn it in to or something. I leaned forward and reached for it, my arm outstretched and my fingers barely brushing against it before I managed to snag the edge of the wood and drag the whole thing closer.

Then it opened its eyes.

I yelped, caught by surprise with my own eyes wide, and then the little not-a-doll shrieked in return. It scrambled to its hands and knees – dexterously, way too naturally, oh my god it must actually be alive – and skittered away.

And fell right off the edge of the wood and into the pond with a quiet plop!

“Oh shit,” I breathed, at a loss for anything else to say for a long moment. Too long, my brain clamored at me, what if it couldn’t swim? I pushed past the impossibility of it all, which was conspiring with my anxiety to grab my full attention, and after only a moment of twitchy hesitation I plunged my hand into the water after the little thing.

I waved my hand around in the water blindly for a moment before feeling some movement, and I managed to cup my hand around something small and flailing and pull it up out of the water. I had barely managed this, my hand and wrist dripping water and my fingers loosely holding onto the little whatever-it-was, when a tentacle – yes, you read that right – shot up out of the water after me and wrapped itself around my wrist.

I shrieked. It was an embarrassing shriek, far from manly, but in my defense I was thoroughly freaked out by this point. I waved my arm madly, trying to dislodge the slimy, completely unwanted grip of the tentacle even as I tried to backpedal further from the edge of the water. It clung to me, slick, sucker-covered muscle squeezing my wrist with shockingly strong tension, until I’d pulled enough that a good length of the tentacle was stretched out of the water. I caught a glimpse of something, a shadowy suggestion of some larger body coming towards the surface, before it finally let me go. The tentacle whipped back into the water, which rippled with the motion before falling still again, as if nothing had ever happened.

 Rubbing my wrist with my other hand, I scrambled to my feet and made it all the way back to the benches before I remembered why I’d been reaching into the water in the first place. Peeling open my fingers, which had clenched up in a loose sort of cage around the little doll-thing, I looked down and tried to assess what the fuck was even going on. My heavy breathing and pounding heart settled a bit as the confusion of this new mystery overwhelmed my previous panic.

Whatever it was, it was definitely alive. It pushed against my fingers with weak little hands and feet, struggling to sit up in my palm. Upon closer look, it seemed to be dressed in teeny furs, which were drenched after being submerged in the pond. It had short black hair, dripping with the tiniest droplets of water I’d ever seen, and its features looked vaguely indigenous. When it finally managed to sit up, it looked up at me – with a little face so round and babyish that it must be young, whatever it was – and babbled out something miserably. “Na’awa eren al? Eren al an ch’itok?” I didn’t recognize the language at all, much less the strange clicking sound the little thing added right in the middle, and my confusion must have shown because that tiny expression only got increasingly distressed. The little thing sniffled, face contorting into pure childlike dismay, before it burst into tears. “Il ta-impi ilo nani!” it wailed, before curling up even smaller and sobbing as noisily as something that small could.

When I say I was both heart-stricken and shocked, both are an understatement. No matter how impossible the situation, the fact remained that for all intents and purposes I had a four-inch-tall child crying in my hand, and there was nobody and nothing around to help or explain. A quick glance showed that no other regular people were around, and there weren’t even any other impossible, tiny people floating on the pieces of wood that remained in the pond. This was up to me, and I had absolutely no idea what to do.

So I did what I do whenever any situation gets strange and unpredictable- I went home.

I tucked the sobbing little kid close to me, hoped like hell nobody would notice, and walked on home at the fastest casual power-walk I could manage. It probably didn’t look casual at all, but thankfully nobody looked at me twice (even if they did look at me once, something my social anxiety couldn’t help but clock, and the fear of being asked what I was doing chased me all the home).

My brain raced even faster than my feet along the way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Tiny people weren’t supposed to exist, and the retention pond in a city park sure as hell wasn’t supposed to have anything in it with tentacles like that. The storm last night couldn’t explain that. I’d heard stories about creatures in the ocean getting picked up and put somewhere else during hurricanes, but the storm had hardly been a hurricane, and besides, this was New Mexico. We were way too far from the ocean for that to be a thing. Had an octopus escaped from the local aquarium? Did we even have an aquarium in town? I was positive we didn’t, actually.

I arrived home with a lot of questions and a total of zero answers. Still, shutting and locking the door behind me was a huge relief. I might still have a reality-breaking little kid in my hand, but at least no zoo-escapees were about to lunge out at me here. We were safe.

Looking down, I carefully pulled my hand away, peeking in at the tiny anomaly. The miniature child looked back up at me with obvious fear and hesitation; they’d stopped crying, but their expression still held all too much misery, their dark little eyes watery and their cheeks flushed with emotion. Poor thing. I hadn’t exactly made the best impression.

“It’s okay,” I told them softly. They startled at my voice, flinching back against my fingers, but still stared up at me. Maybe they were trying to understand; I had no doubt that they understood my language about as well as I understood theirs, but I was hoping my tone might come across all the same. “I’m not going to hurt you.” They kept staring for a moment before sniffling and rubbing their eyes with the back of one teeny hand.

They were still soggy – holding them so close had made a little wet spot on my t-shirt – so I figured the first order of business was to get them dried off. I hurried to the bathroom and rummaged around in the linen closet for a washcloth (a whole towel would obviously have been overkill). Setting them down carefully on the bathroom counter, I watched them get to their feet before hesitantly offering the washcloth. “Do you… want to get dry?” I asked, hoping at least the question would come across. It suddenly felt awkward. This was a kid, impossibly teeny or not, and they weren’t my kid. I was hoping they were old enough to be able to do stuff for themself, like drying off, because I suddenly very much didn’t want to come across as some weird stranger trying to do that for them.

To my extreme relief, they looked at me quizzically but reached out for the washcloth with two teeny little hands. I let them take it, though the moment I let go their arms fell down with the weight of it, and they had to work hard to wrangle it enough to wipe their little face with. They were just so small. How was this even possible?

I ruminated on that as I took a seat on the edge of the nearby bathtub, putting me a little closer to their level but far enough away that I didn’t feel like I was hovering weirdly. The tiny kiddo barely seemed to notice anyways. They gave me a few little glances – more curious than scared, though that might have just been me projecting my own hopes there, as the miniature expressions were hard to see to begin with – and started toweling off their hair.

They then plunked themselves down to a seat, with a motion that only enforced my idea that they were just a kid, and pulled off their little boots. They emptied the water (barely a droplet) out of one with a small “egch!” of disgust and I couldn’t help but smile at the tiny theatrics. Once their boots and socks had been peeled off – revealing the tiniest little toes I’ve ever seen – they set them next to each other with fastidious perfectionism. They then patted down their hair, attempting to get it into order, before unfastening their leathered fur jacket with little toggles that were almost too teeny for me to see. They had on a little fabric shirt on underneath, a deep red in color, that they then dabbed at with the edge of the washcloth. They’d been soaked through, poor thing, but at least they seemed content to get dry now. Children were pretty resilient about that sort of thing; my entire day would have been ruined for sure. The jury was still out on whether my day had already been ruined by a sudden octopus attack.

The careful way in which the tiny kiddo arranged their jacket to dry and the little ways that they kept taming their drying hair made me guess that this was a little girl rather than a little boy. I leaned forward a bit, trying to see if the features of their face matched this assumption, and they turned toward me with wide, dark eyes and a look of surprise on their tiny face. It was hard to tell with kids, but I was pretty sure I was right. I could at least go on that assumption until we figured out enough communication for them – her – to tell me otherwise.

Once she seemed to have dried herself off as much as she wanted to, I reached over to grab the washcloth. The tiny girl flinched, looking alarmed, and I suddenly realized that she probably thought I was going to grab her up again. Whoops. “It’s okay,” I assured her, making my voice as gentle as I could. I tried to move more slowly, curving my hand around her to pick up the washcloth. “All done?” I asked, gesturing with the cloth as much as I dared.

She tilted her head a little, looking between me and the washcloth with utmost concentration, before nodding. “Tyo,” she announced. I took that as a yes. I pulled away the washcloth slowly, giving her time to protest, but she didn’t.

Well, that was our very first tally mark under “successful communication”. Here’s to hoping we could keep that up.

I stood, eliciting a wide-eyed stare from the teeny girl on my counter, and hung the washcloth on the shower curtain rod to dry. A strange smell wafted towards me from it, and I sniffed the washcloth a bit to double-check. It smelled like… salt. Like seawater. Brow furrowed, I lifted up my own shirt, smelling the damp spot that had been formed when I carried the drenched little girl home from the park. Saltwater again.

That made no sense at all. It was a retention pond in the middle of a landlocked state, it shouldn’t have any salt in it, much less smell like the ocean. I stared down at the little girl on the counter, and she looked up at me, tiny and impossible and unable to give me any answers even if she knew them.

Just what on earth was going on?

#GtWAC #my writing #yes still catching up but also this was fun #I've had this AU in my brain for so long you don't even know