#this sort of ties in to another thing ill be posting soon. but only sort of?? mainly it's joanna's design and symbols lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

necroromantics · 3 months

Text

🧺 — Laundry And Taxes

chapter 14. // (masterlist)

(AN: SORRY For the lack of updates, life has been very hectic lately and I haven't been too confident in my writing/story-telling skills so I have been slacking fr. I can't say Ill be posting regularly again, but I AM NOT abandoning the fic. L&T will get its ending eventually, thanks for sticking around 🫡 Enjoy)

The afternoon sun beamed down as a crowd of people swerved around the dramatic scene which had been playing out in the midst of the bustling winter market. The girl, who Toby knew as Nina Hopkins, collapsed into Natalie’s arms, nearly sobbing about how much she had missed them.

“It’s so good to see you two are alive!” Nina spoke out, clinging to Natalie’s body, which had tensed up like a nervous cat.

“You’re causing a scene,” Toby muttered lowly, glancing at the people who were giving strange looks as they passed by the teens.

“Let her do her thing, Toby,” Natalie scolded quietly, patting the girl on the back with an awkward fondness.

Toby shuffled in his place uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his sweater pocket as he waited for the girls to be done with their heartfelt reconnection, secretly hoping to himself that Nina wouldn’t have any tears left for him. The boy looked over the sea of people rushing by, and then down, to see a little boy clinging to Nina’s side. He looked to be about 9 years old, with neat brown hair, and he quietly glanced around with a subtle sort of embarrassment.

“Who the fuck are you?” Toby spoke out at the child, catching his attention, and Nina’s, who glared at the older boy as she slapped his arm.

“That’s my little brother, you jerk.”

“Oh, so that's why he looks like that.”

The group of eccentric teens pushed through the market as they exchanged casual conversation, splitting off from the crowd in the snowy streets of the market, and made their way into the Bulldog Tavern. The atmosphere was a relaxed contrast to the midday busyness of the town outside, and there was no one in the empty tavern but the four youths who sat themselves down around a table. The overhead lights draped over the room, a soft golden glow, shining off of the wooden floorings and bottles of alcohol sitting untouched on the shelf behind the bar. It smelt like rye whiskey and firewood, and only the bubblegum-pitched sound of Nina’s voice rang throughout the room.

She explained that she had found herself in the new world with her back pressed against the same bed she had slept in when she was a teenage girl, in mid-October. Confined by the same poster-filled walls she had once torn down, to escape into the arms of a man who didn't care if she lived or died, in another world. When she found herself back in her mother's house, Nina had come to the understanding that even after she ran away, even after all the atrocities she had seen and done, she hadn't lived a life any different from the one she had lived as a 16 year old girl. She still tied her hair back with ribbons, and she still smudged her mascara. She still wanted to find Jeff, and she still wanted to be loved.

The scars that once etched itself out from the corners of her mouth had washed away, alongside the chemical burns that previously littered her body. Nina rubbed her hand over her arm, a melancholic smile painted onto her teenaged face. She looked softer, healthier, than Toby remembered. The girl radiated the same type of glow as rave lights; flashing, headache-inducing.

Nina explained that as soon as she made an ounce of sense of the world she woke up in, she began to obsessively search for answers.

“So what about Jeff?” Toby blurted out, asking the question Natalie dreaded to ask. Nina blinked for a moment, a layer of uncomfortable silence dancing around the bar, then she awkwardly laughed to herself.

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally over him. I did a ton of digging but couldn't find anything on him, so I don't know if he even exists here. It’s whatever.”

“Well that's a relief. We’re all better off without him here anyways,” Toby said as Nina’s painted nails twiddled with the ends of her hair, which had been tied up with a purple ribbon. He crossed his arms over his chest in irritation as Natalie nudged him to shut his mouth, and leaned into the conversation.

“So what's your plan now?”

“Oh my god, I don't even really have a plan. I just had to get away from my mom and stepdad, and crazy enough, I found out where Clocky stayed, so I took Chris and ended up here.”

The little boy sat silently beside his older sister, looking around at the desolate bar, trying not to think too much about the strange things she had been discussing with the two others who were sitting across the round, walnut-wood table. Nina glanced over at her little brother, placing her cheek on the palm of her hand, as Toby leaned over towards Natalie, and whispered to the girl about how she's too easy to find, which earned him another rough elbow into his side.

“I was actually going to ask if we could, like, stay with you guys for a bit? Just until I get a job!” Nina squeezed her hand closed, and anticipation buried itself onto her sun-browned cheeks, and into her bright eyes. She sounded desperate, maybe a bit hopeful, as she pleaded to her two old friends.

“No.” Toby quickly shut down, before being brushed off by the girl next to him.

“You can stay with us, but with a few conditions.”

Natalie crossed her slender arms atop the table, laying down the rules of their stay as the older boy sulked, sinking angrily into his seat. The conditions were that the siblings both had to enroll in school, help around the house, and Nina had to actively look for a job. All of which, to Toby’s dismay, were ones the eccentric girl across from them agreed to with a wide smile on her face.

The February frost mingled on the worn, decaying front porch step of the small farmhouse, and only the sound of ragged sneakers and winter boots stomping off excess snow spread out over the quiet, white winter fields as the four youths made their way inside. Nina held stars of awe in her eyes as she looked out at the vast countryside property, and a girlish sort of excitement as she followed her friends through the dim hallways of the house, only lit by the sun shining through the icy window panes. Chris followed closely behind, he didn't say anything at all, but he took in the chipped gray-blue wallpaper, the lifted old wooden floorings that squeaked under his weight, and the smell of something dead, like cigarette smoke. There was a strange sense that there had been something lively here once, maybe a family, maybe a boy his age who would run through the halls as his mother cooked dinner, or an elderly couple who never wore their rings, waiting for the day the other passed.

The little boy ran his hand along the walls as he wandered behind his older sister, not bothering to listen in to the conversation she held with the two strangers who showed them where the bathroom was, then the kitchen, then the living room. Then, they came to the old art room where Chris and Nina would be sleeping. When the older boy opened the creaky door for them, there was a grand reveal of nothingness. A completely empty space; like a blackhole had swallowed the life out of the room one night, and never spat it back out.

“You’ll have to sleep on the floor for right now, at least until you can afford mattresses,” Toby said, gesturing his hand out at the lack of furniture.

Nina waltzed into her new bedroom, and Chris hesitantly followed after her, uncomfortable. He tugged on her coat to catch the girl's attention, and whispered to her, a horrible confession of sorts.

“I don't wanna live here, Nina. I don’t wanna sleep on the floor.”

The girl had a rich history of sleeping on forest grounds and dirty carpets in the old world; so often, that sleeping on the floor was just another thing she had grown accustomed to, alongside the stench of blood and rot. It was almost more comforting to Nina than the bed she'd woken up in when she came to the new world. She was grateful to have a roof over her head, and told Chris to be as well, ignoring his complaints.

Natalie threw down a couple of pillows onto the floor, and a few blankets she found tucked away in her bedroom closet. The sun outside the window had begun to hide itself behind the winding hills of the farmland, the orange-red skies reflecting off of the glistening snow as the room darkened. The forest trees in the distance stood tall, still, and branched over the warm gleam of the horizon.

“This should be good for tonight. Let me know if you need anything else, alright?” Natalie said with her hands on her hips, looking down at the two guests sitting in their makeshift beds.

“Thanks so much, again, seriously. You're a lifesaver Clocky,” Nina smiled at the tall girl as she curled herself under the blanket, her dark hair sprawled over her shoulders and pillow.

“Just call me Natalie,” she replied as she turned to leave the room, flicking off the lights, leaving only the dim glow of the sunset draping itself on the floor over the pair of siblings, and reflecting from the girl's tired eyes.

“Night, Natalie.”

“G’night, Nina.”

As promised, through the course of the early February days, Nina had enrolled Chris in the small elementary school in town. But instead of finishing her high school education, the girl had focused entirely on getting a full-time job. She would sit for hours at the old library computer, and perfect her resume, before handing it out to every retail store and salon she could find. The winter frost kissed her cheeks as she buried her chilled face into her wooly scarf, mitted hands hugging her body for warmth as she made her way back to the tiny farmhouse, nearly every day.

Eventually, as her friendship with Lady Luck would bring, Nina had found herself working at a clothing store in the smalltown mall. Cursed with the boredom of a 9-5, but thrilled with her first legal paycheck. And the first thing she bought: a pair of new shoes she had kept an eager eye on from the boutique the girl had spent time window-shopping, which instead cursed her with sore feet, and a scolding from Natalie about her poor financial decisions.

Toby tossed a piece of chopped wood into the dying flames of the fireplace, listening to the crackle as the lumber began to be overtaken by the eager fire, and watching as it burned to char. The sparks danced, scorched, in his eyes; the color of pinewood being set ablaze. The boy remained still for a moment, and witnessed, with a sort of hunger that he couldn't quite name. Then, he heard the sound of the front door creaking open, and the sound of little footsteps stomping off snow. Both Nina and Natalie had been kept busy at their jobs that awful season, and sometimes Nina would stay late into the evening, leaving Toby to watch over Chris after the young boy had returned from school.

Chris quietly shuffled into the livingroom, and sat on the couch, reaching for the TV remote, and turning it on. The blare of the television overtook the room with a laugh track from an early-evening sitcom, and Toby looked over at the child who’s gaze was glued to the show. He stared at Chris’s face for a moment, his full cheeks like his sister, neat brown hair, big brown eyes that haven't yet seen half of the world in its tainted glory. Toby turned to look down at the boy’s hands, which settled around the remote mindlessly, and how his legs were too short to touch the floor as they dangled over the edge of the couch. A bright, wide smile crept onto Chris’s face as he exhaled out a repressed laugh at the juvenile joke on TV, followed by another ear-scorching laugh track.

There was a sick sort of feeling gripping the older boy’s chest as he eyed the child next to him with furrowed brow, and he couldn't help his face from scrunching in a sort of disgust, or anger, or guilt. The only thing Toby could think of, was the guttural sobbing of the mother he had witnessed that dead winter night, through the shattered window, watching as she held the body of her child, wailing, pleading to a God they both knew wasn't listening. And when Chris laughed again, at another childish joke on that blaring TV, boyhood resting innocent in his eyes. Toby could only picture him dead.

The older boy quickly stood to his feet, placing a hand over his stomach as a wave of disease and dizziness overtook him. Chris glanced over at Toby with an unassuming concern, but didn't say a word, and watched as the teen stormed out of the livingroom.

Toby had begun to develop an unfortunate habit over the days of avoiding the little boy. He hid in bed to avoid looking at Chris, because he didn't want to look in his eyes and see the terrified, pleading eyes of the children he had to kill before him. He covered his ears, because he didn’t want to hear the soft, quick, tiny footsteps of the boy wandering the halls outside of Toby’s bedroom; unseen, like a ghost, haunting him. And soon thereafter, Toby had begun to make home with the snowy forest landscape outdoors, ignoring his ice-bitten hands, because it was better than facing punishment in child-form.

He laid himself back in the snow, and stared up at the cloudy afternoon skies. Gray and dark, as if there had been a forest fire, and the smoke had spread over the wide heavens. But the woods around the boy remained quiet, only interrupted by the occasional deer running past, or rabbit. And everytime an animal would rustle through the frost, or a twig would snap, Toby would jolt up, heart beating, looking around for the source of the sound, before collapsing back down into his white, cold cradle. He sighed deeply as his heart slowly settled after another twig-snapping scare, and looked up at the dead tree branches towering over him, reaching across the gray skies. The boy felt his eyes grow heavy, and tired, and when he stretched his arms up, he noticed how red his fingers had gotten, nearly blue with chill. Toby let out a groan of irritation at the condition of his hands, and pulled himself to his sore feet, brushing the snow off his sweater as he made his way towards the warmth of the farmhouse.

Toby huffed out hot air into his palms, and rubbed them together before going to open the backdoor, entering into the kitchen. The first thing he saw was the sniffling boy sitting on the floor by the dinner table, and then he saw the blood. Toby didn't quite understand physical pain, but he was taught from a very young age that blood meant injury, and injury meant something bad had happened. Toby looked down at Chris who shied away in shame, rubbing his teary eyes, and turning his bleeding forehead away from the olders gaze. There was a violent sort of feeling that rushed through Toby’s body, a loud irritation, frustration, and his lip twitched.

“Get the fuck up, stop crying,” he shouted out, gesturing the boy to stand up, which he did.

“You hit your head on the table? Are you fucking stupid?” Toby yelled at Chris, who didn't say a word.

For a second, Toby could only look down at the child, and see his 9 year old self looking back up at him. Angry, and so small. And for a second, Toby could only look up, and take a deep breath in, and try not to think of his father. He stood tall across from Chris, who’s gaze remained firm at his feet, and there was no more shouting. Toby’s hand slowly made its way down to the hatchet that sat on the holster of his belt, and gripped the handle for a moment. He stared down at the little boy, half-imagining his younger self who he had killed long ago, alongside many other little boys, because it had to be done, and Toby realized something horrible. Standing over the child, his hand gripping the hatchet handle, the frustration that steamed off his sun-spotted shoulders — he was in control. And even worse, Toby had been in that place many times before, and he made his own decisions, and it haunted him, and now, the ghost stood quiet before him, in the form of a child choking back tears. A child that sort of looked like him.

Toby took a deep breath, inhaling the early evening sun, which had already begun to set, and the musk of the old kitchen. He knelt down, and met Chris’s height, and raised his hand off the hatchet handle, to which the little boy fought against a flinch at the movement.

“Alright,” Toby spoke quietly, “How bad is it?”

Chris sat still on the wooden dining room chair, his feet unable to touch the ground, as he tried not to look at the older boy who shuffled through an old first-aid kit he had found under the bathroom sink. He pulled out peroxide, and a large bandage, and turned to face the boy.

Toby pushed back Chris’s hair from his forehead as he washed the small wound out, holding his head firmly in place as he winced.

“Quit moving, I gotta clean it out,” he muttered as blood gathered on the wet cotton ball he patted gently over the cut. He examined the wound over again, before peeling open the bandage, and placing it onto the boy’s forehead.

“You’ll be fine,” Toby awkwardly reassured as he finished up, avoiding the boy’s uncomfortable glances and turning around to put the supplies away.

“I know,” Chris muttered quietly, “my stepdad's hit me worse.”

Toby quickly stopped, his hands remaining still on the edges of the first-aid kit he had been packing back up. His heart sank deep into his chest, like it was revolted, or stabbed. He looked over at the little boy, who had not only spoken to him for the first time, but had confessed something, like he was on his knees in his bedroom at midnight silently asking God for help. Toby slowly made his way back over towards the child who sat uncomfortable, a bit sad, on the dining room chair.

“Uh, listen, Chris,” Toby stumbled over his words, trying to find something, anything to say. There was something small buried within him that wanted to be heard, something that had been beaten down for so long, that began to crawl, and scratch, and fight its way out of his throat. Toby sat down next to the boy, and there was a subtle, silent ambiance that settled over the two boys, battered and wartorn.

“I’m sorry,” Chris whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” Toby whispered back.

Natalie slipped off her work shoes as she entered the quiet house, darkened by the evening. She listened to the muffled sound of the TV playing cartoons from the livingroom as she shuffled tiredly down the hallway, and into the kitchen. Her overworked fingers dug under her ponytail, and wriggled the hairband off, letting her tangled hair fall on her freckled shoulders. Natalie turned on the squeaky sink faucet, and watched water pour into her cup, filling it nearly to the brim before she turned it off. The girl sighed to herself as she sat exhausted onto the dining table chair, and took a sip of her water. As she placed her cup down onto the table, she raised an eyebrow, and ran her fingers over the once-sharp corners, which had now been sanded down.

#tombwrites #tombfic #creepypasta #ticci toby #nina the killer #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fanfic #ticci toby creepypasta #ticcitoby #chris hopkins #creepypasta nina the killer #creepypasta ticci toby #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby fanfiction #ticci toby fanfic #ticci toby headcanons

44 notes · View notes

yukidragon · 2 years

Text

SDJ Mafia AU Headcanons

So, anyone ever see this picture by Jambee of Jack from Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack as a mafia boss and Bo from DachaBo as his obedient wise guy? Well, a couple little ideas popped into my head to expand this AphroDesia-themed crossover centered on Jack. I got encouraged to dish out the details twitter, I got encouraged more and more, which made more ideas and, well... I’ve basically got a new AU short story in the works that’ll eventually go in the Sunshine in Another World collection.

Since the original twitter post of my ideas is a pretty ill sorted due to going off into different threads, I decided to compile my thoughts into one easy to read post here on tumblr where there’s no insane word limits to stifle me. Hopefully I managed to gather all the ideas together here. If not, I’ll just have to put them in another headcanon post.

Quick reminder that Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack, DachaBo, and AphroDesia are all Adults Only stories. No one under 18 should be playing in these fandoms, and some of these headcanon ideas will go into pretty dark and/or mature places. You have been warned.

Obligatory tags for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic. If you want to get tagged when I make the next headcanon post, just let me know!

...

The Set Up

The Sunny Family is the biggest and most powerful crime family in the city of St. Valens. As far as the public is aware, it’s a homegrown family owned business that came from humble beginnings with its founders Rise and Shine. They have all sorts of businesses all over the city, ranging from bakeries to thrift stores to yogurt shops. Their public image is as sunny as their family name, and their brand is all colorful smiles and cheerful slogans.

At the head of this family business is Jack, affectionately called Sunny Day Jack when showing up in his friendly public-facing persona. The average citizens are ignorant that the well dressed gentleman with the gorgeous smile is a crime lord, and he’s so gosh darn friendly you would never guess it unless you had ties to the criminal underbelly of the city.

Since Jack’s biggest issue in normal continuity is that he can’t be seen/heard/felt by anyone but his sunshine, it would be fitting that his AU counterpart would have a similar issue even as a big bad scary mafia boss. Specifically, he suffers from haphephobia or a similar condition. He can’t stand the touch of other people, as it feels horrible to him, akin to something like insects crawling under his skin, and he wears gloves specifically because of it.

Sadly, this leaves Jack feeling very touch starved, even as he’s repulsed by it. It’s a contrary thing, wanting to know the pleasure others feel from such physical intimacy. Even in this universe he wants to be seen, heard, felt, and loved. At best he can tolerate touch from those he’s closest to even if it’s repulsive. At worst, he feels like he wants to rip his own skin off.

Of course very few people know about this. Most just know not to touch the boss unless he touches you first. Sometimes Jack has to pretend it doesn’t bother him at all, especially when he’s dealing with people he needs to make nice with. He’ll shake hands with a smile, but as soon as the meeting is over and he no longer has to keep his pleasant persona in place, he’ll toss his gloves away for one of his underlings to burn and put on a fresh, clean pair.

Then one day an accident happens. Someone working for his family - some random low level nobody clown - runs around a corner at exactly the wrong time and bumps into him. Worse, their hand touched his skin directly on the wrist in the process.

His obedient wise guy and attack dog Bo knows no one touches the big boss, and he’s on this low level clown in seconds. Touching Jack is taboo, and those who do it without his consent suffer and suffer bad. He’s ready to dish out the punishment, and he wrenches them into a painful hold.

See, it was a funny thing. When this person touched Jack? They felt… warm. It wasn’t repulsive at all. It was pleasant even. It’s a shock to Jack, but he recovers quickly to immediately order Bo to let them go. He wants that mongrel’s filthy paws off them right now.

Bo obeys immediately, dropping the person to the floor, who is absolutely terrified and in pain from the rough treatment. Jack softens his tone and helps them stand up. Jack’s friendly persona is on full display, gentle and magnanimous as a good boss should be. He asks if they’re alright and then learns her name is Alice. How pretty…

Bo watches this in the background, stunned. Even with gloves on, the boss man will avoid even handshakes unless it’s a calculated decision. Yet, Jack is helping this random nobody up and putting his hands on them? Did the boss get into some drugs or something?

Jack is aware of the reaction and does not care. He doesn’t even look Bo’s way. He’s too focused on Alice, admiring the warm hand he’s holding, so small and delicate in his grasp. It doesn’t matter who this person is or what position she had in the family business. She’s his now.

It’s only fitting that Alice’s job in this AU is a reflection of what she has in the regular universe. After all, what difference is there really between a low level grunt in a clown family and a minimum wage clown at a yogurt shop? Or at least she was a low level grunt until Jack found her.

Alice owes the Sunny Family a debt, and has been working it off as best she can for years, doing whatever was asked of her, no matter how she hated the bloody work. She was bounced around various tasks and grunt work, but eventually found something of a position as a sniper.

Alice’s plan has always been to keep her head down, repay her debt, and finally leave this criminal life and corrupt city behind her for good. Too bad for her that’s never going to happen now. Jack finally found his sunshine, and he’s never going to let her go.

Alice is aware of who Jack is. Who isn’t? Everyone in St. Valens knows his face and his front-facing reputation. Even as a low level grunt of the Sunny Family she is well aware of his darker side. While he does have a reputation of being a relatively “friendlier” and more “compassionate” mob boss than the ones heading other groups in the city, she’s well aware that he has blood on those gloved hands of his…

Needless to say, Alice is shocked by how friendly Jack is being to her. She’s still scared at first, since she knows no one touches Jack, yet she stupidly ran into him because she was running late for a meeting with her boss (someone far, far down the chain beneath Jack). She expects some ghastly punishment, especially when he invites her to his office, despite how kindly he’s acting. Is this some sort of twisted leadup before the boot comes down on her neck? Either way, she has no choice but to go with him…

But the punishment never comes. Jack is warm and friendly. They talk over snacks and light conversation that is mostly just him asking about her. Oh, sure, he’ll get to read over every scrap of dirt they have on Alice later on, but he’s genuinely interested in getting to know her in her own words. After all… she’s going to be his assistant now.

Cue spit take.

Alice can’t believe it. Instead of getting punished she’s getting promoted? Why?

Jack smiles even as he helps her clean up, as it’s the perfect excuse to touch her again and relish in the fact that he can. He just says that he likes seeing her sunny face and thinks they could be good friends.

Thus begins a working relationship between a mob boss and his assistant. Despite having so much power over her, Jack wants Alice to want to touch him just as badly as he wants to touch her, and he’s going to gently encourage her in that direction. After all, he knows all too well how repulsive a non-consenting touch is...

Falling into a Life of Crime

How Alice wound up in debt to the Sunny Family was due to the actions of a rival criminal organization, specifically one that engaged in human trafficking. Alice was one of those unfortunate people trafficked while in her late teens.

Alice’s face is scarred in this universe as well, though it’s more severe. It’s the the result of her attempt to escape the kidnappers. In the process of her escape she managed to alert the Sunny Family (unintentionally) of the location where the gang was hiding. It was fortuitous for the Sunny Family, as they were a gang that were on their hit list, and they were having some trouble tracking down those rats.

After wiping out this gang, Sunny family ~magnanimously~ saved all these poor victims as well. How nice of them! Of course, it's only right that the people they saved pay the family back for their kindness, right?

Alice’s medical bills racked her personal debt up pretty high, but she owes the family. What can she do but whatever they tell her? She learned very quickly how things work in the corrupt city of St. Valens...

Alice doesn’t let anyone see her scarred face if she can help it. Jack, naturally, is going to want to lower her guard and get her to trust him enough to see it... even though he already knows what it looks like. There are files on everyone who owes the family debt...

Because of this debt, Alice is even more of a tightwad than the regular universe. She barely spends money if she can help it, wanting out of her debt as soon as possible. Even the mask she covers her face is cheap. It’s a good thing Phantom of the Opera is such a popular play so plastic masks that cover the right half of the face are so common, huh?

At the very least, Alice eventually was able to make contact with her family back home while working for the Sunny Family. They don’t know the full truth of what she’s gotten into for their own safety and because she doesn’t want them to know of the things she’s had to do in order to work off her debt. It’s hard keeping them in the dark, but it’s for their safety, and she can’t go back home to them until the debt is paid.

Extended Cast

Like in the regular universe, Ian has a decent sized role in Alice’s life as her childhood friend. He came to the city to find her and she confided in him about her debt. To help her reduce that debt, he’s gotten work as an entertainer at a night club for good money.

I’m waffling back and forth if Ian and Alice are exes in this universe. I’m leaning towards not if only because Ian cheating on Alice would feel a lot more unforgivable in this universe, so it might be best that they didn’t. Not that there weren’t sparks of attraction between them.

Speaking of sparks of attraction, there’s some with the owner of the night club as well. Shaun runs a goth (and cat) themed night club with the best acts in town... or at least he wants them to be. He’s working on it, but it can be hard to make it big in the city of St. Valens. Still, the club is doing decently well and he can afford to give his little princess Moon Pie some help to get around despite being blind.

In a reversal of the regular continuity, it’s Ian who introduces Shaun to Alice rather than the other way around. A night club is a good place for a mafia sniper to relax after a rough day, especially when it’s in good company.

Shaun’s family is decently well off in the city. While not a crime family per say, they do have some connections, because sometimes dead men do tell tales and coroners are good at burying secrets for the living if the price is right. Why, it might even be enough money to help their son afford owning his own night club.

Since AphroDesia has people with TV heads and this AU has human/dog hybrids, I can say that Shaun invested a lot of money in some sort of science/magic solution that lets Moon Pie be able to switch between being a cat and a cute little girl with pigtails. Because that’s cute and I like the image. She’s still blind, but she can at least get around better and communicate her needs. What more could a good cat dad want?

The Sunny Family

The Sunny Family includes Jack’s family and friends from the SunnyTime Town AU, as well as the SunnyTime Crew members. Rise and Shine started the crime family and are, in essence, retired right now, with Jack taking over in their stead. Although Jane is the older sibling, she declined to take the role in the spotlight and left that to her little brother.

The family is still involved in the family business, even though Jack is in charge of the whole operation. In fact, they’ll be pretty curious about this “sunshine” that he’s suddenly gotten so touchy feely with considering his issues with being touched...

Buddy is Jack’s childhood friend and the only person, outside of his parents and sibling, whose touch he could tolerate. This is a fact that he takes advantage of and he has a bit of a playful relationship with Jack. Keeping with his belt theme, his weapon of choice is a garrote wire.

I don’t have too many details sorted out for the rest of the Sunny Family members yet, but I imagine that’ll change the more I play with this AU.

While Bo isn’t an AI in this universe, he is still of artificial origins, just biological rather than electronic. Bo is the result of scientific experiments, because why not have mad scientists in a mafia AU? Bo is genetically spliced with a dog to increase his physical abilities, particularly his senses. He’s the best “sniffer” the Sunny Family has, and is very useful for Jack as his attack dog.

Bo and Jack don’t exactly have the most harmonious relationship. This dog wants to be a lone wolf, but he knows well enough not to pull on his leash too hard to avoid the consequences. He isn’t about to let his “master” put him down without a fight. One day, this alpha is going to be his own top dog.

Still, Alice is going to interest Bo simply because of the obsession his “untouchable” boss has on her. It’s particularly curious how touchy feely Jack is being with her, which sparks Bo’s curiosity. Although, the relationship Bo will have with Alice isn’t exactly going to be harmonious either. Alice doesn’t appreciate Bo's harassment, or his nickname for her - squeaky toy.

Based off of the audio dramas made of him in this universe, Bo is a bit more promiscuous than his regular universe. He’s also a bit more hardcore when it comes to sex and violence. Still, once he finds his puppy in this universe, his attention will laser focus on them, and chances are he’s going to get thoughts of breeding and pups.

Until then, Bo does get suggestive with Alice, thinking he can have “fun” with her and annoy the boss at the same time. However, Jack isn’t going to let his dog hump his sunshine, and the “no touching” rule is going to apply to Alice as well.

Oh, and fun fact, the scientist who had created Bo originally is dead. Bo worked very hard to make sure of that.

I’m still playing around with Bo’s story and his puppy. I got some good suggestions that has left me undecided on what would be the most interesting dynamic there. I’ll have to let those thoughts simmer a bit longer, I suppose.

Overall

Like in SDJ, the main focus in this AU is Jack and his sunshine. Also, like the regular universe, there’s a heavy emphasis on Jack not doing anything Alice doesn’t want him to... and doing things she doesn’t know about “for her own good.” He also will do whatever it takes to prove that he’s all she needs...

Alice has a new position of power, respect, and more money. This should mean that she could repay her debt sooner, but the goal of leaving this bloody life of crime seems to be getting further and further away from her. She had to take on a new loan for the sake of some crisis going on back home with her family, but Jack was only to happy to help, and he assured her that it would be fine. She’s making more money now for far less brutal work, and isn’t it so much nicer by his side?

It seems things just keep happening to keep Alice working for the Sunny Family. It’s a good thing Jack is such a kind boss and friend to her.

“Don’t worry, sunshine, you can depend on Sunny Day Jack to help you with everything you need!”

The gifts and perks Jack gives Alice are so nice, almost too nice. At least now she can trade the cheap plastic Phantom of the Opera mask for much nicer masks her new boss gifted her. Nicer clothes, a nicer home to live in (which is Jack’s home in a bedroom adjacent to his), better food, more security... It’s like a dream come true. Maybe it won’t be so bad to be his assistant. But is it too good to be true?

Still, Jack does seem to just be pretty... eccentric. For example, after a business deal where he shook hands with a politician, he discarded his gloves and asked for a hand massage from Alice. He seems to really like getting massages from her. She finds it odd, but it certainly beat her previous jobs. Plus his hands are so nice and warm and it kind of feels nice, and his smiles are so sweet... Though it does make her flustered when he does little things like touch her chin or brush back her hair. At the same time, it feels good to have such attention paid to her after feeling like a nobody for so many years in this scummy city...

For Jack, Alice is priceless. Nothing erases the unpleasant feeling of other people on his skin better than her. The more he gets to know her, the more she is a ray of light in this dark city, and he’s not about to let anyone take his sunshine away, not in this world or any other.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #sdj #swwsdj #DachaBo #AphroDesia #Mafia AU #Headcanon Ramblings

147 notes · View notes

hpnotfound · 1 year

Text

ok so i wrote this and came up with a better plot but i dont wanna delete it all so im posting it anyways but there will not be any more

maybe ill get around to rewriting it someday :o anyway enjoy Papa Hueso gaining four extra children

-------

Hueso was putting his tiny son’s blanket over his sleeping form as he heard the telltale clanging sounds of something hitting the bottom of his dumpster.

“Ay, dios, malditos mapaches!” He cursed under his breath.

Seems like he would have to spend another evening out there chasing away the furry little bastards. What a joy.

Softly stroking Juniors tiny head one last time, Hueso went to grab his cloaking brooch and the trusty lead pipe he swiped from one of the many construction sites around New York, and made for the magic alleyway exit.

It had been a real lucky find, this literal hole in the wall. A little enchantment and his Pizzeria was up and running. Good thing he still had had a few favors left to cash in…

Out in the streets, the cold November winds whipped around the trash and leaves. He could feel the cold down to the marrow of his bones. No wonder the raccoons were trying to find shelter in a dumpster, but he couldn’t have them build a colony there. It happened once a few years ago and he still regrets not stepping in sooner. Won’t be making that mistake again.

Hueso approached the open lid cautiously. The little beasts were fast and prone to biting, so he’d just have to be faster.

With a swift grab he had one of them by the scruff.

Only it was not a raccoon.

What struggled in his grip was a small green and scaly creature in and oversized red hockey sweater and a blue headband. The red markings on its face accentuated the big, dark –tired terrified desperate- eyes of what was obviously a hatchling of some sort or another. The markings kind of made the green kid look like the fruits of the pepino plant his mother had in her backyard.

It let out a string of colorful curses absolutely inappropriate for what the yokai assumed was a toddler.

Before he could reprimand it - him, Hueso supposed, they were clearly not just animals – he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and that was about all the warning he got before another little green creature –this one wearing a purple hoodie and big square glasses over a purple mask – darted towards him and nailed Hueso in the knee with a piece of wood.

It didn’t hurt as much as it could have but he was still startled enough to drop the still struggling kid in his hand.

The purple one – did this one have a pillow tied to their back? - grabbed their friend and pulled him towards the corner, where yet another one was crouched. This one was bigger than the other two and he could at last make out their species, the last one not wearing much clothes. Besides a red helmet and a sling around their shoulders, seemingly carrying their loot, they had nothing covering the spiky, dark green shell, identifying them as turtles.

The trio made to get away before Hueso could even react, the big one shooing their companions in front of them. He had not been expecting unsupervised yokai children in his trash; much less so on the human side of New York!

The kids didn’t get very far thought.

The big one started coughing violently, hacking and spitting and it didn’t sound like it would stop anytime soon.

Doubling back around the others hung onto their biggest friend.

“Raph!”

“You gotta breathe, Raphie!”

Finally catching up with the situation, Hueso walked towards the gaggle of kids, taking off his cloaking brooch as to not further scare the children. Even this young they clearly knew to keep away from humans.

“Hey, hey, niño, take it easy” reaching out his now bony hand to try and soothe the coughing fit, Hueso quickly pulled it back towards him again, when something whacked it out of the way.

The one with the glasses had hit him again. Looking even more scared than before, yet determinedly standing between the adult and their companions, they was brandishing the plank in front of them in a defensive position.

“S-stay back! You can’t ha-have my brothers! I-I-I won’t let you- I won’t let you eat them!!” The little one looked like they was about to cry but still did not move his shaky legs.

The hacking and spluttering of the spiky one just got worse. The boy was desperately trying to get some air into his lungs, tears streaming down his round cheeks. Unsuccessful he went down on his knees, clawing at his throat as if something invisible was strangling him.

The pepino looking one was trying to pull him back up and away, crying all the while.

“Little one, I just want to help! Your brother sounds very sick and it’s too cold out here for you children. Where are your parents, hm?” He went down into a crouch as well in an attempt to look less threatening.

The suspicion in the little one’s eyes didn’t waver; he just gripped the wood plank harder. How was Hueso going to help them-

“Raphie, no! Don, help me, he’s gonna squish Mikey!” Looking over his shoulder, Don, apparently, dropped his weapon to quickly help drag his collapsed brother onto his side. They were struggling as he was clearly too heavy for the other two tired and probably hungry turtles.

Taking a chance, Hueso ran up to them and rolled the spiky turtle onto his back, making it easier for him to breathe. To his surprise, the sling did not contain any material possessions but a fourth, itsy bitsy turtle with yellow splatterings like freckles, swaddled in blankets and seemingly sleeping. Hopefully sleeping.

“Ay, dios, how did this happen to you kids?” He cradled the spiky one to his chest. While his head and body was way warmer than even a turtle yokai should be, his arms were ice cold. It looked like the big one gave his clothes to the one with the pillow on his back. The size at least indicated it.

At least he had stopped coughing and was breathing shallowly again. But apparently the one called Raphie had reached his limits, because his tearstained eyes did not open again.

He looked up to the other two, who were hovering close now. They were shaking their bigger brother and calling out to him, appearing to have forgotten about the skeleton completely.

“It will be alright, niños. I will see to it he gets healthy again, si?”

Big eyes snapped up to his own.

“you’re not gonna eat us?” Don asked.

“Why would Death eat us, Donnie? He’s Death, he doesn’t need to eat”

“How would you know?”

Before the children could devolve into more of a squabble the skeleton interrupted them.

“I am not Death and I will certainly not eat you. My name is Señor Hueso and I’m a yokai like you. I can help you get back to the Hidden City.” What was supposed to inspire confidence in his sincerity only sparked confusion.

“What’s a yokai?” “And what’s a hidden city?”

Well, at least they didn’t seem afraid of him anymore.

“Have you been living up here all this time? No, no, don’t answer! Not important right now! Let us get your brothers inside first. There will be time for questions later”

With that he shooed the children up to the graffiti piece marking the entrance to his restaurant. Carrying the other two in his arms proved not to be a problem. Shifting them to one side how he did with Junior freed one hand up to activate the portal into the well-lit entrance of his pride and joy.

The amazement on the kids’ faces was adorable.

“Welcome to Run of the Mill Pizza, hombrecitos!”

It was past closing time so the rest of the place was only barely visible, but the group was swiftly led though towards the back. Flicking on one of the smaller lights he sets the limp and silently wheezing body down in one of the booths. Procuring a blanket from where he stashed for Junior, he swaddled the sick turtle as best as he could. Keeping him warm seemed like a good step.

The next thing to do is take off the sash holding the littlest turtle, lest his brother decided to lay on him again. The orange clad one was still asleep, which deeply worried Hueso, but the kids didn’t seem upset by it so maybe this was a normal turtle thing? He still checked the kid’s temperature and pulse and found both to be in a normal –for yokai at least –range.

“Here, sit down with your brothers, can you hold this little one? I’ll go get you some hot soup, no?” They did give him some suspicious glances still but ultimately climbed into the opposite side of the booth. The little pepino held out his hands for the baby turtle and Hueso made sure it’s tiny head was held securely before making for the kitchen.

His first stop was the first aid cabinet in the corner which should also hold a fair amount of medicines. He’d need to contact his doctor friend Roberto in the morning for a better asessment but for now a fever lowering potion and some soup would have to do.

Gathering his supplies around the kitchen, he was well aware of the eyes following him through the open door. The kids were huddled together, both clutching the small one between them and were keeping Hueso in their line of sight at all times.

Understandable, really. Who knows what they have been through?

In the low light he could see how dirty and tattered their clothes were. None of them were wearing pants or shoes, just oversized hoodies and sweaters, the colorful bandanas and the pillow strapped to the bespectacled kid with what looked to be a phone charger.

They all would need baths before bed.

Warming up canned soup on one of the stoves took care of the food situation, but Hueso decided to also make them hot chocolates. They looked like they’d need it.

Doing his best to project calmness and safety the skeleton quietly hums one of Juniors lullabies. His son was only six months old so he’d have to check on him soon. He didn’t sleep through the night yet. Good thing Hueso was used to little sleep.

Finally, the soup was warm and ready to be served to his nighttime visitors.

He put down the bowls and cups of hot chocolate in front the decidedly sleepy looking kids. They still gave him the side eye but it was clear they would not be able to stay awake much longer. It was almost 1 a.m. by now.

“Here, hombrecitos, eat this. It will warm you up” sitting down next to the sick child, he checked over him. His temperature was definitely too high, since he now had a comparison.

“What are your names, children?” The kids exchanged glances with each other and only pressed their lips into thin lines.

#papa hueso #he would be a great dad for them #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt

12 notes · View notes

randomnameless · 2 years

Text

Pat might not work on 3 Nopes (at least I heard so?) as a voice director, but his spirit is always with us!

So, I happened on a JP audio PT of SB’s chapter 4, and let me tell you...

:’)

If I had to get this game, I’d obviously play with the JP audio, and still feel out of the loop regarding certain things prevalent in the fandom -

who am I kidding, here’s another round of TFW 4Kids erases stuff for the sake of it

First we start with Flayn’s line, as I pointed in another post

But in the Jp Audio (10.14), Flayn answer to her “otou-” but catches herself and replies with the traditional “onii-sama”. Meaning, on the verge of defeat, Flayn was going to call Seteth her dad, but caught herself at the last minute.

Something that, obviously, doesn’t appear in the lolcalised script, because “...” doesn’t really convey the same meaning, nor how Flayn’s first reaction is not to pause and search for words, but to call to her Father.

Good right?

My ear might be playing a trick on me, but Inoue doesn’t mention Supreme Leader’s name during this line, like not at all.

And here, Inoue only mentions her name without her full title.

Why this was added, and why could it be important?

A long time ago, I had a discussion with a Friend about how Rhea saw Supreme Leader in CF - thinking she dishonors her ancestors and spits on the Hresvelg legacy Rhea helped Willy to build (let it biologically or just, she helped him become emperor because at that point she had faith in him).

It’s only late in the game (iirc, when Seteth’n’Flayn are not here anymore) that Rhea acknowledges Edel’s ties to the Hresvelg family.

So calling her, right now, and so soon a member of House Hresvelg is meh, but why not.

Now, the most objective reason why this is annoying, is because of NoA!Rhea and how the team perceived the character of Rhea.

Rhea is calm and composed, she “just is” and passes judgments on people she deem unworthy. Rhea is that figure of authority, just like Dumbledore, who has a certain presence and cannot say “trick or treat ~” with a sing song voice.

So why is Rhage calling Edelgard by her name, then full name? I wondered and then remembered something stupid, by giving Edel’s full name and making a death threat, Rhage is “artificially” sentencing her to death.

Which would fit with Rhage’s general aura and the perception of her being a religious extremist who thinks she can pass down her judgment on people for being, idk, heretics or whatnot.

Yes, Jp!Rhea also makes death threat, but when Dimitri threatens to remove Supreme Leader’s head from her shoulder, he is only expressing his wish, not giving some “I have passed my judgment” crap.

Or, maybe NoA had Rhage say Supreme Leader’s full name to mark them as enemies, because let’s face it, their “rivarly” has always been pretty one sided, Rhea just doesn’t want to die, while Supreme Leader thinks she’s responsible for the world’s ills. So if Rhage notices Supreme Leader more and even acknowledges her by spelling out her full name, it builds some sort of connection between the two - marking them as enemies.

And not just, you know, Supeme Leader screaming at Rhea because she bought the Lizard Illumanity theory on Uncle’s FB group (or Wilhelm’s dead account who was taken over by Thales) and Rhea not understanding at all what she is talking about.

Tl; Dr : I wonder if there will be a datamine for this game, with the JP audio + I hope the person who made the video will make a PT of the subsequent chapters too without the localised dub.

#3 nopes #3 nopes spoilers #lolcalisation woes #I mean it's very light #because there isn't a lot of dialogye #but for anyone who wondered if the game is still odd regarding Supreme Leader and the Church factions #yes it appears to be the same mumbo-jumbo that the one we got in FE16 #Yay Pat made a lasting impression #Leigh is allowed to emote more compared to FE16 #but it doesn't bode well for the rest of the script #and if she will receive wonky directions to go with a wonky script when Inoue will just sing 'trick or treat' again #Who cares about lizards?#Not NoA that's for sure

10 notes · View notes

s-brant · 3 years

Text

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx s2 #uh oh trouble in paradise #anyway that smut #kinda wanna get railed by JJ in the back of the van #don’t we all?

354 notes · View notes

ingravinoveritas · 2 years

Note

So...AL is pregnant...

So...whew. These are all the initial Anons that I received about last week’s news. (A few more have come in recently, but I will answer those separately.)

Before I get into the meat of my response, I want to put a few disclaimers and/or caveats out there. My goal in responding to all of this is not to tell anyone how to react or to feel some type of way about this news, but to share my own perspective. I love that there is such a range of responses in the Anons above and that folks felt comfortable enough to share their thoughts and feelings with me, because all of these responses are valid (well, I might have to put Anon #5 on notice, because that last sentence is SO CURSED). And while I intend to speak frankly and honestly and not sugarcoat things, I do not wish any ill on Michael, AL, the pregnancy, and so on. (I shouldn’t even have to say that, but I wanted to make it clear from the outset.)

All that being said, my reaction to the news--both initially and now several days later--is a mixture of disbelief and confusion. And I think at least part of this stems from not the news itself, but how it was announced. So let’s get a few screenshots up here, because it seems like this all started with a tweet of Michael’s that came even before the announcement:

A few hours before the pregnancy announcement, Michael posted this picture in honor of St. David’s Day. What may not have been immediately obvious (though is more visible in the larger version of this pic) is that there is an open suitcase in front of Lyra, and in the suitcase was a green bottle of prenatal vitamins. So the question then becomes, was Michael’s hand forced because of the bottle/people noticing, or was this posted deliberately to get people talking? Because only a few hours later, the announcement happened (followed by AL posting about it on Instagram/Twitter, also shown below):

This is the point where I started to struggle with all of this, and I think it’s because rather than being genuine, heartfelt statements, these come across as specific, PR crafted social media posts. I knew immediately that I’d heard or seen #AngelDelight (which is a dessert) used by Michael somewhere else, though I couldn’t place it right away. But I soon realized that it is very possibly (likely) a reference to the last episode of the first season of Staged, where Michael and David are talking about Dame Judi Dench’s presence, and Michael says, “It’s sort of like being consumed by Angel Delight.” So that was sort of multiple references in one, as it were.

Then, of course, there was also the direct Good Omens reference in AL’s caption, with #StillNotTheAntichrist (which, if I remember correctly, is also a reference to Georgia’s post from three years ago with pictures of Michael and David from behind respectively holding baby carriers). Knowing how much Michael cares about and is protective of GO and Aziraphale, I really don’t think he would be one to use GO/Aziraphale to promote a pregnancy (or vice-versa). But the fact that this announcement was made on the day GO 2 wrapped filming, with those references in it, feels incredibly deliberate and calculated on someone’s (probably PR) part.

(Side note, but I’ve had Anons message me previously about absolutely not wanting Anna or Georgia to have anything to do with GO 2, and even though she is not in the show, it now feels like she is inextricably tied into it, which...taints Good Omens for me a little, if I’m honest. Because GO is something special and unique, and connecting the pregnancy to it sort of cheapens what GO is supposed to be about, which is the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley. Just my opinion, anyway.)

I think what we also have to talk about is that, when it comes to pregnancy and kids, people make assumptions based on certain preconceived ideas. It may seem like having another kid means that the relationship is in a good place, but sometimes people have a baby for other reasons. A sense of obligation, or duty, is one. Another reason can be that the relationship is not in a good place at all, and that having another baby will save the relationship (which, for the record, is an extremely bad idea and almost never works).

The other assumption that often seems to be made is that having a baby is about love, and how much a couple love each other. But it doesn’t take love to have a baby--all it takes (and all it proves) is two people having sex, and not doing anything to interfere with the biology of it. And I think, for me, that is what I see in this particular situation. So in truth, we have no idea why Michael and AL are having this baby, only that it is happening, and we have no idea how they really feel about it from PR-generated posts, and I don’t think we will know until we see them in public together again.

I know a lot of folks have mentioned the age gap, and if that is an issue people have, I do completely understand it. For me, however, the issue has never been the age gap, because I was also involved with an older man when I was around AL’s age. The problem for me is what I mentioned in the previous paragraph: That Michael and AL are just not on the same page, do not seem to have much chemistry or anything in common beyond these children, and that this does not feel or seem like something that happened out of love but rather out of indifference. Michael has not really shown any demonstrable passion for AL (certainly not compared to what he has shown for David), and I don’t believe it’s because he’s matured or changed, nor do I think he was so expressive in the past because he wanted to show off those relationships. I think he was so demonstrative simply because he felt that way about those people, and he can’t hide the way he feels when he genuinely loves someone.

And the fact is, despite having countless opportunities to do so, Michael has never once publicly said that he loves Anna. Not once, in three years. I’m not saying he has to declare his undying devotion in every interview, but when he calls Anna his “co-star” and then five seconds later say that he loves David...it just really makes you wonder about things, and far less willing to categorize this news as having anything to do with love.

So I think if there is any reason Michael has been so happy since the Fall, it’s almost assuredly because of filming Good Omens 2, and being with David. The change in his demeanor was nearly palpable--first at the NTA Awards in September, and then from the very first behind the scenes pictures and bits that were released--and stayed visible all through the last six months. And after those hair dyeing pics that were posted, it’s hard not to see the change again--but this time, not necessarily for the better.

Again, all of this (lengthy as it was), was my opinion. I know that I may not see eye-to-eye/disagree strongly with some Anons, but my hope is that we can have this discussion respectfully, while still disagreeing. I would also certainly love to be wrong about my perspective on this, and if I am, I will readily admit to being wrong. But this was the reaction and the feelings I had, and I wanted to share them with you all honestly. Thanks for writing in, Anons, and now I’ll try to go finish the five zillion other Anons still waiting... x

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #anna lundberg #trying to provide a balanced perspective #i actually probably could've written more because there is so much to unpack #apologies for this taking so long but i've been nonstop busy for four days #probably going to have to turn off anons for a bit while i answer the rest #also Anon 5 i would believe Michael is pregnant with David's baby before I believe AL is #i'm just saying #the only person she has less chemistry with than Michael is him #babygate 2022 #thoughts #discourse

41 notes · View notes

belovabelova · 3 years

Text

Little Darling | Part Two

Fanfic Summary: A young girl falls for her stepdad’s best friend, Steve Rogers.

Pairing: dad’s best friend! Steve Rogers x original female character

Word Count: 1012 words

Fanfic Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex and various sexual acts, age gap relationship (16 years), mentions and descriptions of suicide and self-injurious behavior (eating disorders and self-harm), mental illness, death or dying, physical violence, and blood.

Chapter Warnings: This chapter contains mentions of suicide and descriptions of self-mutilation.

Notes: I’m also posting this fanfic on Wattpad. I hope you enjoy!

(Part One)

I still don't understand what happened to me when my father passed away.

The day I went back to school, I was forced to talk to a counselor. When he asked me how I was doing, I told him that it felt like I'd been tied to an anchor and it was pulling me under. He said that it was normal to feel that way. According to him, what I was experiencing was grief.

Except I hadn't told him the complete truth.

I didn't feel heavy, and I didn't feel like I was plummeting to the bottom of the sea. I actually felt okay considering my dad shot himself only a month before.

Nonetheless, another month passed and I broke. It felt like a demon sucked a portion of my soul out of my body. I refused to get out of bed or shower, and I binged and purged on food. The tears wouldn't stop falling. Everything inside of me hurt. I was an empty shell.

And then, after a while, things seemed to get better.

The problem was, no matter how many times things seemed to get better, they would always get bad again. It was beyond frustrating. I wasn't strong enough to handle it.

A few months after I lost my dad, I started planning my own funeral.

That's what I think about on my drive home from work.

Once I realized that I didn't want to live anymore, I spent many sleepless nights researching burial methods, looking up how to draft my own will, and searching for the most effective means of ending my life. Guns were too violent, rope was too unreliable, and jumping from some sort of height was too terrifying, so I decided an overdose would be my best bet.

I like to think my boyfriend saved me, but not because he stopped me from taking the pills.

We actually got into a massive argument over something ridiculous. It made me hysterical.

After kicking Liam out of my house and telling him that I never wanted to see him again, I found myself in the bathroom with a razor. I took my frustrations out on my wrist, slashing at my left arm in a fit of rage.

After dropping the razor in the sink and staring down at the blood pouring from my veins, panic started to set in. I was killing myself, but it wasn't supposed to happen that way. I wasn't ready yet. The wounds stung and it was messy— everything was too messy. I screwed up and the only thing I could think about was how much I wanted my mom.

With horrified tears welling in my eyes, I pressed a towel to my mangled arm, but the blood quickly soaked through the material.

I started choking on my breath.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone and managed to text Liam.

Im bledding amd I sont know wjat to do

He was driving home, but he called me as soon as I sent the message. "Emma, what's going on?" he asked, sounding panicked.

I fumbled with my phone, but once I managed to put it on speaker, I dropped it in the blood-soaked sink. "I— I cut myself, and it won't— it won't stop bleeding," I managed through heavy sobs. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do, and I'm scared."

"Fucking shit," he cursed. "I'm turning around. Do you need an ambulance?" As he stepped on the gas pedal, I could hear the engine of his car work a bit faster.

Grabbing another towel, I pressed it into my arm. It hurt like something fierce, but I figured it would somehow stop the bleeding.

"I don't— I don't know," I cried, too terrified to call for emergency services. "I'm going to be sick."

Liam kept questioning me, but I started muttering under my breath, cursing myself out for being so stupid. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but I knew my brain was fucked.

As I pull into the driveway of my house, I try to push the traumatic memory out of my mind.

Steve comes into view, offering me a good distraction. He's under the hood of Bucky's truck without a shirt on. He looks like some sort of heavenly creature.

Glistening with sweat and covered in dirt, he lifts his head and offers me a short wave. After turning off my vehicle, I step outside and he meets my eyes. "Where have you been?" he asks.

I stop beside him and start playing with the keys in my hand. "Work."

"Where's that?"

"The library in town," I tell him.

Glancing down at the engine of Bucky's truck, he presses his lips together and smiles. "What do you do there? Reshelve books?" he asks, amused by something— I'm not sure what.

I cross my arms. "Among other things. Why? Are you looking for a job?" I joke.

Putting his hand on top of the hood, he closes it gently and chuckles. "Not exactly," he says, wiping at the sweat on his forehead. "I was just curious."

I hum under my breath. "Are you done with the truck?"

"For now." He walks down the driveway to dump his stuff in the bed of the vehicle.

As he lifts a heavy box of tools, his arms flex and I melt.

"That's good," I say with a smile, not bothering to hide the fact that I'm checking him out.

He turns to face me. "I'd like to go take a quick shower. Do you mind if I do it here? I won't be long. I just don't want to get in my car like this," he says, gesturing to his body. "I'm kind of a mess."

"No, that's completely fine," I tell him, eyeing his torso. "You can use the shower in Bucky's bathroom, if you want. I'm sure he won't care."

"Great," he replies, offering me a handsome smile. "Thanks."

(Part Three)

92 notes · View notes

demonslayedher · 3 years

Note

Buriko-Senpai! This is such a wonderful blog to read, and I love your art so much! It's so nice to see other traditional artists out there! What's your thoughts on the demon slayer marks and their affects after Muzan's defeat? Do you think they're a purely physical effect, or a supernatural curse like Ubuyashiki's? It seems like in the latter case it would be lifted? In Tanjiro's status report, he mentions wanting everyone to be happy "when he's gone", and hints of preparation for the future...

Thank you for the kind words on my art! (≧◡≦) Glad to know people like the style, I like the feel of trad art both for the final product and how the pen feels in my hand, haha~. I love all the additional possibilities in digital art, but will leave that to the people who are good at it. Glad you find my blog a good read too, because we’ve got another lengthy read ahead.

As for the mark and whether it works in a purely physical sense or a curse sense, I'm ok thinking of it in either way, depending on its purposes in post-canon fanwork (but of course, you can do whatever you want in fanwork totally inventing the mark or completely ignoring it too). As Gotouge never states exactly what becomes of Tanjiro, Giyuu, and Sanemi, I don’t feel we can declare it working one way or another. We'll consider it from both angles, but in general, I think canon evidence leans toward an avoidable physical impact. Even that, however, leaves room for interpretation on strict "25" might be or not.

If we approach the curse direction first, the worldbuilding surrounding the Ubuyashiki curse gives a lot of framework for the mark being a curse. The second fanbook even gives us more circumstance and age-related perimeters that seem very arbitrary, like how only one male will survive each generation and how the daughters will also die young by sudden illness or accident if they don’t marry out. As the curse is tied to Muzan’s/demons existence, it is completely lifted once Muzan is eradicated, but Kiriya still anticipates dying in his 20’s and does not feel relieved that it’s gone until he’s in his 30’s. This would put Giyuu and Sanemi in their 50’s if they’re still around, and with their own curses effectively gone, they’d probably have spent the past couple decades insisting to Kiriya that he can relax.

If the rebound of the mark is a supernatural curse, there are a couple other things that make sense about this to me, in the light of cosmic justice at play in this universe. First, it’s a general rule in a lot of philosophies and other works of fiction that to gain something powerful, you must pay the price and sacrifice something. Second, the Ubuyashiki family is cursed to carry the sins of one of its members until they can stop that demon member. While Demon Slayers may not necessarily be carrying the sins of demons, we see demon marks at play in this series first, though its effects are not clear until we see how Nezuko is stronger when her vines appear. A Demon Slayer also gaining extra strength like this is, perhaps, taboo.

As for the mark being a purely physical effect, I think the emphasis on physical effects of the mark (especially how in Chapter 129 Muichiro analyzes its effects on body temperature and the heart), and how throughout the manga it is continually stressed that the Demon Slayers are mere humans even if Breath helps them push the natural limits of human ability, lend to a more physical interpretation that in order to push so far past normal limits, it has to borrow against the natural human lifespan. This is how the characters in-universe also interpret its effects. If we look more into what Muichiro says:

Muichiro: The anger was too strong for me to have any handle on my emotions. I believe that in that moment, my heartrate exceeded 200 beats, and my body felt as hot as though it was burning. My temperature would had measured at least 39 degrees or more. Shinobu: !? Could you move like that? That would be life-threatening. Muichiro: Right. That’s why I think it’s a matter of falling into one category or another. Whether you die or survive that moment is what determines whether a mark will appear or not. Amane: A heartrate of over 200, and why a temperature of 39 degrees? Muichiro: That’s because when I was received treatment at Kocho-san’s place I was running a fever. When my temperature was taken, the thermometer read 39 degrees. At the time I would have been said to have a mark appear, my body was just as feverish.

(For reference, according to searching with the same terms used in the original text, your top heartrate is 220 minus your age, making Muichiro's 206 beats per minute. The average for someone in their 20's is 120~140, somewhat hard exercise would put it at 150, and hard exercise puts it at 170, according to the Borg scale. Normal body temperature in Celsius is 37 degrees; while 39 C = 102.2 F.)

If we look back at when Tanjiro is first facing off against Daki, he considers how he gets more power out of Hinokami Kagura than from Water Breathing because it suits his body better, but he is not yet physically capable of the switch between them. As he psyches himself out in Chapter 77, we see that he has physically been trying to prepare himself for this, and he’s shouting at himself to set his heart ablaze. Clearly, Tanjiro is leaning into that advice from Rengoku-san, and if he’s on his way to getting the mark, he’s been taking that advice somewhat literally.

In Chapter 78, as he purposely raises his own temperature to fight the side effects of switching to Hinokami Kagura, we get a flashback that Kiyo-chan was very worried that Tanjiro was running a temperature of 38 degrees (100.4 F) for three days, but Tanjiro begged her not to tell Shinobu yet because he felt fine in that sustained feverish state, and was able to put more power into Hinokami Kagura that way. (This may also be part of why the mark seems to have a different effect on Sun Breath users, as their body draws from this power in a more sustained way.)

We can probably think of most of the other Breath Users who attained the mark as having gotten it in a similar way to Muichiro. In a fit of high emotion and desperate battle, their body pulled from its natural reserves, and similar to a human and/or demon being exposed to lots of Muzan’s cells all at once and either dying or quickly adapting, they attained a mark and relied on that temporary extra burst of strength. While it either happens or doesn’t happen for the others (Muichiro plainly states he was unaware of a mark’s appearance) based on being the flow of tense battle, Himejima seemed to have gained enough ability that he could choose when he wanted to tap into that power. When we’re first left not knowing what else Amane told the Pillars, Himejima openly wonders what would happen in his case (seeing as he is over the age of 25). In the third light novel, we get a brief scene of Himejima pulling Muichiro aside after that meeting to ask if he’s alright with this, since he’s just found out that he has no chance already of living a long life. Muichiro is fine and wonders about Himejima, who is also fine with this. They both are willing to do whatever it takes to fight Upper Moons and know their survival has never been assured. Himejima goes on to say similar things to Kokushibo in Chapters 169 and 170, when we the readers are finally told about the limited life expectancy. The two of them both sort of expect Himejima to drop dead that night because of his limited stores to draw from. Himejima would had preferred to not raise his temperature so much until facing Muzan (seeing as he knows he’ll be racing against time), but knows he has no choice but to start while facing Kokushibo. Kokushibo is somewhat impressed with his control of getting a mark and his preparation to die, and he finds it a waste of Himejima’s ability and likewise is like, “why not preserve your flesh as a demon” because, as we find out in Kokushibo’s flashbacks in Chapter 178, this was part of what motivated him to accept Muzan’s blood. He couldn’t handle the frustration of his polished techniques being wiped out by a short life span, especially since it would mean he was soon out of time to match or best Yoriichi. If we go back to that conversation between Himejima and Kokushibo, Kokushibo loses his cool (hahaha, that feels like a bit of a pun here) the moment Himejima is like, “there was one exception to the rule though, wasn’t there?” I suspect that Yoriichi was the exception partly due to Sun Breathing being a more perfected, sustained form of pushing the limits of human capability, and Yoriichi being born naturally perfect at it, so his body didn’t need to scramble looking for extras sources of power like hastily (or slowly) borrowing against his lifespan. What’s very interesting about Kokushibo is that he also regularly sustained his mark, so perhaps it’s possible he could had lived past 25? Here's what really key: We also don’t know about these early marked users. Did they regularly sustain their marks, or did they only show up regularly when they battled demons, repeatedly borrowing against their future lifespan? Or was it a one-off thing for each of them, like it was for Giyuu and Sanemi? It’s possible that even if Giyuu and Sanemi are doomed to shorter lives, since they both only had the marks for relatively short periods of time on a single night, they might well exceed 25 years. The fact that Gotouge gave them descendants (as opposed to only implied reincarnations), and because they are both characters generally written as dense in the ways of love and close personal relationships, that sort of implies they needed some time before leaving behind offspring, and I hear a lot of voices in the fandom displeased with the idea of them leaving children behind when they know they won't be around to raise them. Since we don't know any canon details on this, let's cut the boys some slack and say they took a chance on being happy. After all, all their time in the Corp already teaches them tomorrow is never assured.

Side note while we’re on the Sanemi topic, he attains his mark right after Himejima brings his own forth (because Himejima is a badass who can just be like, “ok, now”). While he comments to Himejima what a good idea it was to do Pillar Training so he could attain that powerful state, it’s also possible that being in the presence of someone who already had one was part of what triggered Sanemi’s body to access that state as well. The nature of the mark’s spread from person to person is another tick in the “supernatural curse” box if people like that interpretation more.

Let’s take a look back at Tanjiro, though.

Tanjiro, our special Hinokami Kagura boy, was already a special case for his own knowledge of Sun Breathing (however imperfect), and his own sustained mark (though as Genya notes in Chapter 134, it tends to transform slowly, and as Tanjiro remarks in response to Shinjuro’s comments in Chapter 81, his mark was not something he was born with like the original Sun Breath user was, it was but a childhood injury which took on a different shape when he was injured at the Final Selection). While Amane cites him as the one who started the trickle of marks appearing again, we know in the Pleasure Quarter arc than Tanjiro was been unknowingly training himself to make the mark appear, like the Pillars later tried to do in training.

Tanjiro also, however, has the very unique experience of undergoing repeated cruel and unusual suffering in battle against Muzan, basically dying, turning into a demon with more of Muzan’s cells than any other demon in history, and turning human again with man-made medicine all in the span of about two hours.

We can’t really compare Tanjiro’s case to Giyuu’s and Sanemi’s very easily. Besides the slightly different nature of his mark (which Muzan says will still kill him anyway if he becomes human again, but whether he says that based on a cosmic rule or historical precident, we don't know), we simply don’t know all the details of how Tanjiro's flesh has been affected by everything that happened to him in that two hour period. It seems safe to say that becoming a demon is what saved his life since it rebuilt his flesh and supercharged life back into him, but since he wasn’t a demon long enough to have fully integrated those new cells, the entirely reconstructed parts of him (his left arm and right eye) are essentially lifeless. However, there may still be some amount of reclaiming that his body did during his demon minutes, for the whole right side of his face should be paralyzed (yet he can still use it expressively), and there was probably internal damage throughout his entire body and other various injuries (like stabbing himself) which were repaired enough for him to survive. Had he been a demon longer (long enough that his body with Muzan’s memories likely would had broken down the medicine Kanao gave him), my guess is that he would had fully integrated these body parts, like how Nezuko gets to keep her legs despite all the times they were blown or chopped off.

But we also know that Tanjiro had to take a few months to recover (his visitors looked like they waited the whole three months before getting permission to see him), and that his condition allows him to live and work, but he generally is in a weakened state. Again, rather than only having borrowed (on multiple occasions) against his own lifespan, we don't know the extent of the damage and repair he's undergone.

While he’s got 25 as a historical benchmark to anticipate, and as you mention, he does seem to fully anticipate that early demise, his case is so unique that it could go in any direction. Tanjiro might live longer than 25, as this would give him time to pass on Hinokami Kagura to at least his eldest son, but like Tanjuro, he’d probably have a pretty weak constitution for the rest of his dwindling life. But also worth noting, the phrase is that they die by at least age 25. That means some of the Warring States era swordsmen probably died before that age. (｡•́︿•̀｡) I don't feel this is likely for Tanjiro, Giyuu, and Sanemi, but it is worth noting as a possibility.

#kny fandom theories and meta #kamado tanjirou #kamado tanjiro #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyu #shinazugawa sanemi #himejima gyomei #himejima gyoumei #tokitou muichirou #tokito muichiro #tsugikuni yoriichi #kokushibo #kokushibou #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

68 notes · View notes

maladaptive---daydreamer · 3 years

Text

Fake it till you make it

You were never really one to receive post from home. Your parents would send you a letter every once in a while, sometimes a small care package towards the end of term, but they would come in black lidded boxes tied together with red silk ribbon. This was the precise reason why you were so confused when a school post owl dropped a crushed brown box in front of you and flew back to the owlery.

“What the hell is that?” Your best friend, Draco, asked, voice laced with disgust.

“I have no idea” you replied, cautiously picking the box up looking for a clue as to who the sender was.

“Well open it, don't leave us in suspense, Y/N” Daphne urged.

You ripped the brown parchment off the box to be greeted with a cake box from a bakery in Hogsmeade. You lifted the crumpled box lid off to reveal a small square carrot cake. It had been decorated with white icing, and a note had been piped on with orange icing.

“Go out with me?” Daphne read. “Oh my, you’re getting asked out! Does it say who the sender was?”

Draco looked at you suddenly interested in this delivery.

“No it doesn’t, and I’m glad it doesn't because I definitely don’t want to go out with the owner of this cake.” You replied, pushing the box away from you and returning to your breakfast.

“You don't mind if I take that do you, Y/N?” Crabbe asked, licking his lips.

“Go ahead, Crabbe.” You pushed the box towards them and both him and Goyle reached for the cake.

“Acting as though you’ve never seen a cake in your lives, you disgust me the pair of you” Draco sneered. He picked up the parchment the cake was wrapped in with two fingers and began to stare at it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking up from the page of the Daily Prophet you were reading

“I’m checking to see who sent it.”

“I already did that, there was no name on it.”

“You might have missed it”

“I can read, Malfoy”

“Well there doesn't seem to be a name on here, a shame really, I would have enjoyed watching you turn him down and embarrass him in front of the whole school”

“Who said I would have turned him down?”

“You did, just now,”

“I only said that because its an anonymously sent cake, it could have been poisoned for all I know. Had I known who the cake was from I would have reacted differently”

Draco looked confused for a second before getting up, announcing he was going to make his way to potions. You and Daphne did the same a few minutes later and met up with him again in the queue outside the classroom. You had potions with the Ravenclaws, which according to the sorting hat was its next choice for you, but it believed you’d be better suited in Slytherin. It meant that you managed to get along well with some of the Ravenclaw students. Before long, Slughorn called you all in and you took your usual seat at the back, taking up a four-seat bench with you, Daphne, Draco and Blaise. Today's lesson was about sleeping potions, Slughorn announced he would be pairing you up rather than you working with the person you sat alongside. He began reading off a list, pairing Daphne with your friend, Alicia, Draco with Marcus Belby and you with Terry Boot.

You reluctantly got up and moved to a station near the front of the room.

“Morning, Y/N” Terry greeted, oddly giddy for a Tuesday morning

“Morning, Terry” you replied, giving him a small smile. You read through the instructions in your textbook and began to chop up your ingredients.

“Anything interesting happen this morning?” He asked, looking up from the valerian root he was chopping.

“I did get a weird package at breakfast.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Yeah, someone tried to ask me out, bit stupid though they didn't leave their name”

“I did! it was on the inside of the lid”

“Pardon?”

“Erm yeah sorry about that. What I meant to say is that I sent it.”

“Oh, right, well” You were honestly speechless, you had maybe spoken to Terry once, apologising for Draco’s remark about his mother.

“It's just you’re so beautiful and smart, and you’re nice”

“Terry I’m flattered but I’m just not interested”

“You think I’m ugly don’t you?”

“No- I”

“Don’t lie to me Y/N”

“No I swear, it's just” Your mind raced at a million miles an hour to try and come up with a passable lie. “It's just that I’m actually going out with someone already. We just haven't told anyone, you know how-”

“Who?” He cut you off, his face twisting with anger.

“I don't see how that’s any of your business” The sheer cheek of him was enough to make you angry as well,

“Well, then you’re lying, if it were true you’d say who. You do think I’m ugly”

“It’s,” You paused, blurting out the first name that came into your mind. “Its Draco”. You were already kicking yourself for spluttering his name out. Any Slytherin boy would have done fine, but you just had to say his name.

“Oh, right. Makes sense, you two are inseparable,”

An awkward silence had fallen over you and he barely spoke another word the whole lesson. Slughorn had administered each pairs sleeping potion on a cornish pixie, the pair who managed to keep their pixie asleep for long enough was due to receive a prize the next lesson. You returned to your seat at the back and grabbed your things.

“What’s wrong with you?” Draco asked, pulling the back of your robe

“Huh? what-”

“You look ill, do you need me to walk you to the hospital wing?”

“Walk the long way with me to defence against the dark arts?”

He nodded and the two of you left, splitting off from Daphne and Blaise.

You walked in silence for a bit

“Are you going to tell me what the matter is?” He stopped and faced you for a second

“I found out who sent me the cake” You admitted, continuing to walk

“And?”

“It was Terry Boot.”

Draco started to laugh. “You’re lying”

“I swear but this isn't even the worst part” You were beginning to explain but he wouldn't stop laughing. “Draco, I’m serious! stop laughing there's more!”

He calmed down after a few seconds and you continued.

“I tried rejecting him nicely, but he just didn't take it. So I lied and told him I’m going out with someone”

“Oh? whos the unlucky bugger?”

You slapped his arm. “It's you”

“Me?” He looked genuinely shocked.

“I’m sorry it was the first name that came into my mind. But I just wanted to give you a heads up because he’ll probably tell his friends and the whole school will probably find out! Ugh I’m sorry Draco”

“Sorry for what?”

“Well that everyone’s going to think we're together”

“They could think of worse things, Y/N. Plus I don't care what they have to say about me,”

“you're not angry?”

“Of course not, people thought we were going out anyway.”

“Thank you, Draco, seriously”

“You know, we might as well make it believable, just until he moves on, something tells me Boot isn't going to let this drop.”

“What do you mean believable?”

“Like act like we’re a couple. Hold hands, you know all of that”

“But what about all your admirers”

“I could care less about them, your happiness and safety matters more than the opinions of the mediocre witches and wizards in this school”

You felt your heart swell a bit, you honestly didn't expect Draco to prioritise you like this. “So we should just fake it until he gets a girlfriend?”

“Exactly, just follow my lead”

You two ended up being a minute late to your lesson. He took your hand in his and the two of you walked in after everyone had taken their seats.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss Y/L/N, you are late to my lesson” Snape stated.

The whole class turned and looked at you, noting your hand clearly being held by Draco

“Sorry professor, we accidentally walked the long way from potions” Draco explained, swinging your hands.

“Two points from Slytherin, take your seats.” The two of you sat down.

“You and Draco?” Daphne hissed, knowing how long you had been crushing on him.

“Mind your business, Greengrass” Draco replied, sitting back in his chair putting his arm around the back of your seat.

“I'll explain later,” You promised, not wanting to piss off Snape, by talking in his lesson, any more than you already had.

For the rest of the day, you were ogled at like some caged animal in a zoo. Students from every year glanced and immediately dissolved into whispers with their friends. Word clearly travels fast around Hogwarts. You walked out of your last lesson with Daphne, getting ready to head to the Slytherin common room before dinner.

“You better be getting ready to explain this whole thing to me.” She said, pulling you away from the other students

“Yes, as soon as we get to our dorm-”

“Mind if I steal my girlfriend from you, Daphne?” Draco interrupted, appearing from what seemed to be nowhere.

“Yes I do actually,” She replied, pulling you further from Draco.

“Too bad, I’ll be taking her anyway”

“I swear I’ll tell you daph-” You explained apologetically, pulling your arm from her grasp.

Daphne stomped her foot like a toddler and turned to walk to the Slytherin common room. You, on the other hand, were stood with Draco, getting, even more, stares because the two of you were finally stood together, giving feeding truth into the rumour that was swirling around the school. He put his arm lazily around your shoulders and the two of you began your stroll to a more quiet part of the castle.

“I know you want to tell Daphne everything, but do you think that's wise?” He asked quietly

“Yes, she's my best friend, why wouldn't I?”

“I thought I was, I’m hurt”

“You are, you mug, but she is too”

“You know what a big mouth Daphne has, not to mention you know what she’s like once shes had a bit to drink, she might let it slip.”

You pondered what Draco had said. It was no secret that Daphne Greengrass liked to gossip, but it was also no secret that she couldn't handle her alcohol, spilling some of her families darkest secrets after a few shots. Not to mention had she slipped out that you lied about dating Draco it would be embarrassing for not only you but him.

“Ugh I hate that you’re right”

“When am I not?”

“But what am I supposed to tell her when she asks? She knows when I’m lying”

“Well we did spend basically the entire summer together, we’ll just say it happened then.”

“This is all so stressful! Why couldn't I have thought of another excuse? If I knew this was going to be the outcome, I would have agreed with him and said I found him ugly,” You dropped your head onto his chest. He wrapped both of his arms around you, swaying side to side.

“I know, love, but its too late to go back now”

You and Draco had been in this exact moment before in your friendship, only this time it felt different. You felt like you were more than two best friends consoling one another, it was almost as if you were just two teenagers in love. Only for a short while before reality came crashing down on you, it was all just fake.

The two of you went back to the common room to drop your school bags and robes before making your way to the hall for dinner. Despite it being late, there was still a large proportion of students sat down to eat. You took a deep breath as Draco’s hold on your hand tightened and the two of you walked in. Every single pair of eyes in the room were trained on you, it felt like an eternity before you finally got to your seats on the Slytherin table.

“Finally, you have no excuse not to explain yourself to me now, Y/N” Daphne scoffed.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Greengrass. Were going out, that's it, what more do you want?” Draco retorted.

“Id like to know when, how, where. All of the details, Malfoy”

“Well we started going out in the holidays-” You began to explain before she cut you off.

“Pardon, the summer? As in 6 months ago? You have been hiding your relationship from me, your best friend for 6 whole months?” Daphne’s voice began to rise.

“Daphne-”

“Watch how you talk to my girlfriend, Greengrass, otherwise you'll find you can't speak another word.” Draco practically snarled at her, he looked as though he was about to rip her head off.

“I wanted to tell you, Daph I really did, I just wanted to keep it between Draco and I for a while, just in case it didn't work out, so it wouldn't be awkward.” You explained calmly.

“Hm, I guess that's a valid reason, you’re forgiven for now. But from here on out, I want to know everything. Did you at least find out who that ghastly cake was from?”

“Terry Boot”

She almost choked on her rice. You filled her goblet with some water and slid it to her.

“He confessed to me in potions, I tried to say I wasn't interested but he basically forced me to admit that I had a boyfriend”

“You poor thing,”

She had quickly forgotten and moved onto the next piece of Hogwarts gossip that took her fancy. Draco was engrossed with his own conversations and it hit you, your new reality was Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend, that was until Terry Boot managed to get his own one. It was something you had wanted since the second year, you felt as though you should have been over the moon, one of your most wild fantasies was playing out right in front of you, but you weren't. It wasn't going to last, you were sure he didn't even like you that way, he was just being the kind but overprotective Draco you had got to know over the past few years.

Once you had filled yourselves up with dinner, you and your friends made your way back to the common room, Draco's hand found yours and he held it as you walked down to the dungeons. Once you had got to the common room, Blaise forced a group of fourth years off the sofa in front of the fire and pulled out his deck of exploding snap, which you all played as a group. The warmth of the fire coupled with the comfort of the sofa made you want to curl up and fall asleep, you could feel your eyelids drooping as you tried and failed to suppress a yawn.

“Tired, love?” He asked, tilting his head.

“A little bit, I think I’ll head up to sleep in a bit” You responded, another small yawn passing your lips.

He nodded and simply pulled you into his side, your head falling on his chest and his arm around you resting on your hip

“God, you two are disgusting” Pansy grumbled as she walked past, taking note of you and Draco in your loved-up state.

“We all know you're just jealous you’re not in Y/N’s place” Crabbe laughed.

“Shut up Crabbe,” She snapped, trying to hit him around the back of his head but failing.

Your whole group laughed as she stomped away. You only managed to last another hour before you really were going to fall asleep, though you were reluctant to move from your position, you got up and announced you'd be heading to bed.

“I think I’ll join you.” Daphne yawned, getting up and stretching.

You made a move to leave but were pulled back by Draco.

“Gonna leave without saying goodnight were you?” He smiled

You laughed, “of course not, goodnight, Draco”

He kissed the back of your hand, sending a jolt of electricity from where his lips touched right to your brain, “goodnight, princess”

You smiled and headed up to bed, feeling as though you were floating on cloud 9.

Over the next few days, you had fallen into a routine, he’d wait at the bottom of the stairs from your dormitory for you to come down every morning, as soon as he saw you, he’d chirp a “good morning, love” before walking you to breakfast. He would walk you to and from every lesson that you didn’t have with him, he even went as far as waiting outside the girl's bathroom for you so he could walk with you back to the library. You had to admit it, Draco Malfoy was the best fake boyfriend.

One cold Wednesday afternoon, you were in the middle of a potions lesson, Slughorn was going on and on about the properties of belladonna, he even hinted it would come up in your exam, but all you could focus on was the contractions of your uterus. The first two days of your period were the worst, horrific cramps, bloating, tender boobs and hot flushes. Madam Pomfrey was aware of how debilitating your period was and would always send owls to your teachers informing them you would be absent from lessons, you didn't even care that Snape would find out about your period, all you wanted was to lie in bed. You tried your hardest to ride out the pain for the next 40 minutes of the lesson before you could go to the hospital wing and get something for the pain.

“Just ask Slughorn to leave early,” Daphne whispered.

“This is going to be on the exam, I can't just leave now”

“Y/N, you are literally dying, I’ll give you my notes, just please go to the hospital wing”

“I’ll be fine,”

You took a deep breath and shrugged your robe off you in an attempt to cool down. Draco slide you a note

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah, just my period, nothing to worry about :)’

‘Are you sure? I know how bad they get’

‘I’ll be fine, focus on the lesson!’

‘How can I focus when you’re in pain’

‘Oh shut up, I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl’

Draco read your last message and slid the sheet of parchment into his textbook. Another jolt of pain ran across your abdomen, causing you to squeeze your belly in pain. Draco’s arm shot up almost instantaneously.

“Professor, Y/N isn't feeling well, may I escort her to the hospital wing?”

“Of course m’boy”

You glared at Draco before collecting your things. and trying to discreetly leave the classroom without disrupting the lesson further.

“Do feel better Y/L/N” Slughorn called from the front of the room.

“Thank you, professor” you mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Here give me your bag,” He said, going to grab your bag off your shoulder.

“I’m on my period, Draco, not dying”

He held out his hand anyway and you handed him your bag. He knew you hated being touched too much, it made you feel hotter, so he linked his pinky with yours.

“The corridors are empty, you don't need to hold my hand,” you stated, looking around

“I don't need to but I like to, your hands are soft” You saw him blush slightly as he said it. You simply smiled as the two of you walked into the hospital wing.

“Ah, miss Y/L/N, I’ve been expecting a visit from you” Madam Pomfrey went into her store cupboard and produced a violet potion and measured a dose. “You know the drill, come back tomorrow after breakfast and I’ll give you more, I’ll send an owl to your teachers, what’s your next lesson?”

“We have transfiguration” Draco answered for you while you finished downing your medicine.

“Right, well I’ll tell Professor McGonagall you'll both be absent from the lesson, be sure to catch up with the missing work Mr Malfoy”

You thanked Madam Pomfrey before returning to the Slytherin dormitory. The boys had managed to disable the charm that prevented them from coming up into the girls' dorms, so Draco followed you up.

“Draco, honestly I’m fine.” You signed, dropping onto your bed

“You don’t look fine,” He crossed his arms and looked down at you.

“I just need to get into some comfy clothes and lie down and I’ll be fine, I even have chocolate in my trunk.” You crouched down and opened your trunk and fished out your slab of Honeydukes chocolate. surprised to find that you only had 6 squares left.

“That’s hardly enough, wait here.”

“Dra-”

He turned and went down the stairs, leaving you alone. You changed out of your skirt and into some comfy trousers and were about to unbutton your blouse when Draco returned with a full slab of Honeydukes chocolate and his old quidditch jumper.

“I remember you saying how soft this was, I don't need it anymore, you're free to keep it,” He said sheepishly

“Thank you, Draco, seriously” He smiled at you and just stood there, looking at you. “Erm, I need to change,”

He slowly turned around and you unbuttoned your blouse and unhooked your bra throwing it on your bed before putting the jumper on.

“I’m done,”

He turned around, his eyes immediately landing on your black lace bra on your bed, you followed his gaze and quickly snatched the bra and stuffed it back in your trunk.

“I had you pegged for a cotton bra girl myself,” He smirked

“If you think that's scandalous, you should see what I wear on the bottom” you replied, winking. You got under your covers and began to open the chocolate, Draco sat awkwardly at the foot of your bed.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“I’ve never been in your dormitory before,”

“It's literally the same as yours, come, sit” You moved a bit to the side and he came and sat next to you, stretching his legs out. At this point it was a reflex, his arms wrapped themselves around you as you buried yourself into him.

“Draco,”

“Hmmm”

“Thank you,”

“You’ve said that already”

“I mean it, honestly,”

“Anything for you, princess”. You two fell into a comfortable silence as you lay on his chest, being lulled to sleep by his chest rising and falling.

You were awoken by a loud squeal, you blinked and slowly opened your eyes.

“You two are just the cutest!” Daphne shouted.

You looked around confused for a moment until you saw what was in Daphne’s hand. She handed you a small bouquet of roses with a note attached that read:

I didn't have the heart to wake you, I’ll bring you dinner if you're not up to coming down, I hope you feel better, love - D x

You smiled as you conjured up a small vase filled with water. It was time to admit it, you were deeply, truly and utterly in love with Draco Malfoy

A Hogsmeade trip had been planned for that weekend, at first, you were planning on skipping it, but after some convincing, you decided you’d go. You decided to replenish your potions store, as well as getting some more quills and ink. Draco treated you to some sweets from Honeydukes, before you and your group headed into the three broomsticks to grab a butterbeer before you returned to the castle. You sat in a booth with Blaise, Daphne, Goyle and Pansy, choosing to squeeze yourself right in the corner. Blaise got up to order the drinks returning a few moments later with six butterbeers in his hands. The six of you fell into a discussion about the quidditch tournament, the boys getting heated over Ravenclaw’s win over Slytherin in their last match. After a while Daphne excused herself to go to the bathroom, only to run back a few moments later.

“You will not guess who I just saw snogging Hannah Abbott in the women’s toilet” Daphne yelled, sitting back in her seat at the end of the table.

You all looked at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Terry fucking Boot!”

The whole group looked at you and Draco. At that moment you felt a million different emotions, recently it had felt like you weren't faking anymore, you had tricked yourself into thinking that it was all real, forgetting about your deal with Draco. But you knew that this revelation meant it was all over, you and Draco would fake an amicable break-up and remain to be best friends and the thought of that killed you.

“Well, at least now he won't get hexed for looking at my girlfriend” Draco joked.

You smiled and took a sip of your butterbeer. Once you had all finished your drinks, you returned to the castle and settled in your spot in the common room. You were sat with Draco but all you could think about was how this little bubble you were in was going to burst soon. You practically zoned out, your eyes losing focus as you stared at the fire.

“Are you quite alright? You look as though you’ve been stunned” Daphne asked, looking confused.

“Mmm I don’t feel too good, I don't think being out in the cold was a good idea” you mumbled, blinking slowly.

Daphne came and felt your forehead.

“You do feel a bit warm, why don’t you go lie down for a while”

You agreed and went up to lie in your bed for a while. You ended up skipping dinner too, you played up your symptoms to Daphne and she left you alone out of fear that she’d catch whatever you had. You didn’t end up getting out of bed until the next morning, barely having the energy to brush your teeth before you trudged to the great hall for breakfast in your pyjamas. Draco saw you come in and his eyes lit up, he was worried after Daphne told him you were sick. As soon as you sat down he began to pile food into your plate.

“Whoa calm down, I’ll barely be able to eat half of that” You pushed his hand back to the bowl of baked beans prompting him to drop the spoon back into the bowl.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday, you must be starving, love”

You shook your head reaching for a cereal bowl instead. He looked at you concern filling his face. He kept glancing over at you while you ate, making note of your unusual silence. Once he had noticed you stopped eating your cereal squeezed your hand under the table, you pulled your hand away and acted as though you were scratching an itch on the side of your neck.

“Y/N why don’t we take a visit to madam Pomfrey, just to make sure you’re okay”

“I’m fine Draco, it’s probably just a cold”

“Draco’s right, you should make sure it’s nothing contagious or something” Daphne agreed

“Fine, let’s go then” You dusted your pyjamas off and got up, defeated.

You followed Draco out of the great hall. He began walking the opposite direction to the hospital wing and pulled you into a deserted part of the corridor.

“Are you okay?” He asked immediately, his tall frame towering over you.

“I’m just tired Draco, that’s all”

“You can’t lie to me, I’m your best friend”

“I’m not lying, I’m just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well the past few days”

“Has someone said something? Threatened you? I swear if I get my hands on them”

“No ones done anything. You don’t need to keep the overprotective boyfriend act up anymore, we’re alone and Terry has a girlfriend now”

“Act?” His face had fallen and he turned to look away

“Draco?”

“You really thought it was all an act?”

“Was it not? You said it yourself, we were faking it until he got a girlfriend so that he wouldn’t try and make a move on me”

“How can you be one of the smartest witches in our house but be so dense at the same time. “

“Excuse me,”

“It wasn't an act for me”

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing

“It wasn't an act for me. I didn't do all that just because I wanted Boot to back off, I did it cause I’ve fancied you for a while” Draco began pacing, as he explained himself

“but-”

“You said you would have gone out with the sender of that cake if it wasn't anonymously sent. I don't know why, but it didn’t sit right with me. I didn't like the fact that you were willing to go out with someone that wasn't me.”

“So you waited for me to find out who did send it, so you could propose this crazy idea?”

“I didn’t expect you to find out, hell I didn't even know I was going to say it, but once you agreed to go along with it, I felt like maybe you’d see that us being more than just best friends wasn't that bad, and maybe you'd be willing to give me a chance.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?”

He stopped and looked down at you and nodded,

“I've fancied you since second year”

He smiled and grabbed both your hands

“And since we’ve been fake going out, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you now,”

“Say that again”

“I’m in love with you Draco,”

“Say it again,” he said, placing his hands on your cheeks and staring into your eyes with adoration.

You laughed “I love you”

“I love you so much more, princess. Way more than I can even explain”

You beamed up at him, you felt like you could honestly explode at this point. all those years of crushing on him and wishing you could tell him how you felt, and here you were.

“I'm going to kiss you” He whispered

“I think it's about time you did”

He moved slowly before giving you a sweet but passionate kiss. His lips were softer than you thought they'd be.

“At least now we don't need to worry about telling our friends,” You joked, resting your forehead against his.

He laughed and kissed you again. Something you know you would never get tired of. As cliche as it seemed, you did it, your best friend was now your boyfriend. It was just you and Draco, safe in your perfect bubble.

343 notes · View notes

sakiychu · 3 years

Text

You know? When I think about it, the song Rolling Girl, I think it could fit Yachiyo. And now, I know what you’re thinking: Wouldn’t this song work for Homura? And I’m here to tell you, yes! It also would! But I want to focus on a different perspective with the song than normal, and how I’ll explain it, hopefully you’ll understand what I mean by how it could fit Yachiyo too.

I mean, constantly rolling and people telling her to well, roll. Okay, here’s what I mean. Get ready everyone, it’s Character Analysis-ish Time.

Yachiyo Nanami- Survivor’s Guilt

(Please don’t ask why I gave this a title and I’ll post more of the images later if I have an image limit)

Before Yachiyo became a Magical Girl, people would treat her as a child. Which is normal, because she’s 12. But she would say she hated being treated like one because she wanted to show she could do things the adults could also. I think this would cause her to be bitter and usually stuck in her daydreams of being mature and people respecting her.

So, wanting to show she was an adult, Yachiyo became a model and made her wish when she was 12. She wanted to survive, and how she explained it in the anime was that she wanted to survive as the leader in her modeling group. Not by taking the girls’ potential from them. A flash back occurs and the girls begin to talk bad about her from how she’s posing to her hair, and then they say:

“She’ll never survive.”

She then says she became the leader, but the other members couldn’t catch up with her, causing them to leave and Yachiyo become a solo model. As she has been modeling for a few years, she probably had people in her previous teams leave her due to her wish of wanting to survive, and after a fight in the game is completed, she’ll say:

“Looks like I’ve survived again.”

So, technically, she “rolled” again. I want to think that she tried being in model groups for a little while longer saying, “Just once more” before she gave up completely and went as a solo model.

Fast forward a bit to when she is in high school, she forms a team with herself, Mifuyu, and Kanae. The team goes out on a witch hunt, but the witch was too strong causing Kanae’s soul gem to break apart from using too much of her magic. Kanae passed away from this and both Yachiyo and Mifuyu figure out the first truth about Magical Girls. And because she made the wish to survive, Yachiyo began thinking she survived so someone will die. Those dark thoughts must have begun to cause a spiral, and soon enough she realized she failed to keep Kanae alive. Because she survived for Kanae to die.

A little bit later, her grandmother became ill and she died also, and with no one to really talk to when Mifuyu wasn’t at the Villa, Yachiyo didn’t have a real way to grieve properly. I would think that Yachiyo would be in a complete low state, mentally from finding out the first truth about Magical Girls, physically from her job as a model. She would probably be exhausted, and with school maybe she’s behind. Due to all the stress, Yachiyo would probably want to stop surviving. Saying the line:

“Please just let me stop my breath”

Another year later, Yachiyo makes a new team including herself, Mifuyu, Tsuruno, Momoko and Mel. One day Tsuruno says that she can’t go out witch hunting which left the team one member short, Yachiyo tells her it’s fine, she should go focus on the restaurant and that they can go fight the witch.

“No problem”

She tells herself today.

But Yachiyo would say that a lot, so it would repeat. So, the team minus Tsuruno, goes out to fight the witch. However the witch was much stronger than they thought, but Mel lands a final attack which makes her soul gem cloud up completely turning dark and murky. A soul gem is a source of a Magical Girl’s power and if it’s too dark, they die. And that is what happened to Mel, she tells Yachiyo that today was lucky because she got to save her, but Yachiyo tells her not to talk like that because they could find the grief seed. However, they were too late. Mel began to shudder and writhe in pain, she then ran silent before she let out a blood curdling scream. Mel was officially dead, and became a witch.

She would constantly say she’s fine, but deep down Yachiyo knew, she isn’t.

She breathes another lie, the pain and guilt she feels amplifies.

Those voices would constantly blend around her mind, causing layers of broken noise she couldn’t break. And Yachiyo knew it well.

With that information stuck in her mind, Yachiyo truly didn’t have anyone left. And not wanting to make the situation worse, she cut ties with Momoko and Tsuruno. Mifuyu then left the Villa, joining Magius and Yachiyo was officially alone. I want to say their final words would always be in the back of Yachiyo’s minds, constantly replaying in her memories. Those events played a huge part in Yachiyo’s life, so it makes sense that she would want to stop her breath, but she can’t. Because if she died, the impact after would hurt the hearts of many even if she didn’t want to admit it herself. So, at the age of 19, Yachiyo was officially done making friends, having teammates, she told herself she would fight alone. Until it was her turn to join Kanae and Mel.

So for 7 years straight, Yachiyo has been rolling nonstop. She doesn’t necessarily know how to stop since she’s been doing it for so long, to hold her breath would to die, but she can’t do that. So all she’ll do is continue to roll, right? Well, sort of.

At the age of 19, Yachiyo gave up. She told herself she was a prisoner of the past, and she wouldn’t do any of the things she did back then. Yachiyo continued to roll, unable to stop, but then Iroha came along. The memory museum played as an emotional barrier for Yachiyo, causing those memories from the past to play again. She told Iroha that she disbanded the team and they aren’t having any mutual feelings nor contact about it. Iroha however, wasn’t accepting it, wanting a reason. But Yachiyo couldn’t take it anymore, only saying:

“If you’re with me, you’re going to die!”

Iroha rebutted this as she looked at Yachiyo, saying that this whole incident was the first time she was mad at Yachiyo. She told Yachiyo that she would defeat the rumor and show Yachiyo that until she’s actually dead, Yachiyo shouldn’t believe what she thinks.

And that’s exactly what Iroha does. She destroys the rumor and tells Yachiyo that she’s alive. The new promise she made was rebounding in Yachiyo’s mind.

“Just once more?”

The feeling to roll again from surviving now with everyone gone came back again, but Iroha told Yachiyo that Yachiyo also needed to believe in her and herself. Otherwise the promise wouldn’t be true.

“No! No more! Take my hand and come with me, tell me your story. Let me hold your breath for now.”

So, Iroha told Yachiyo that she’ll be the precedent to tell Yachiyo that the wish to take another’s life isn’t true.

#magia record #character analysis #song analysis #rolling girl #wowaka #yachiyo nanami #character study sort of #lyric parallels I guess #me trying to make my art style like the rolling girl pv

34 notes · View notes

dearly · 3 years

Text

Pete Wentz (6:39:20 PM): Hey Ryan Ross (6:39:39 PM): hey Pete Wentz (6:40:09 PM): Is this the guy fro poanic at the disco Ryan Ross (6:40:23 PM): yeah im ryan, is this pete? Pete Wentz (6:41:12 PM): Yeah Ryan Ross (6:41:18 PM): hey man Pete Wentz (6:42:37 PM): How arer you Ryan Ross (6:43:17 PM): im not bad, working on a paper for english. hows everything with the new record? Pete Wentz (6:44:37 PM): Going really well Pete Wentz (6:45:04 PM): How's everything wiht your band are those just remixes Ryan Ross (6:46:01 PM): awesome, yeah we only did those on my laptop because we cant get into a studio yet. but we still have alot of those parts live and full band Pete Wentz (6:46:25 PM): Does it have samples like that Pete Wentz (6:46:42 PM): How many people are in the band.... Are you guys all in hicghschool Ryan Ross (6:47:20 PM): do you mean do we use a sampler? our drummer uses a drum sampler which we put some of the stuff on, and he plays some of it Ryan Ross (6:47:43 PM): im in college. im 18 the other three of them are 17 and in high school Pete Wentz (6:48:26 PM): Like of the pure volume site songs what would not be part of your live show Ryan Ross (6:50:18 PM): well right now the synth stuff because we need a keyboard player. we are trying out a few guys soon though. and some of the drum parts are different. Pete Wentz (6:50:48 PM): I absolutely love the stuff Ryan Ross (6:52:16 PM): but we have two guitar players one sings and i play lead. its kind of hard to describe it. we are a rock band but about half of a song will be dance-ish or sort of 80s sounding Ryan Ross (6:52:28 PM): really? wow thanks alot man Ryan Ross (6:53:12 PM): it really is a huge compliment coming from you Ryan Ross (6:53:35 PM): i was actually really suprised you listened to it Ryan Ross (6:53:40 PM): i didnt expect you to see it Pete Wentz (6:54:00 PM): Is there some pics of you guys anywhere Ryan Ross (6:55:10 PM): no, we are taking them pretty soon for the website, its just not done yet. i have some just of me on livejournal. but thats wierd haha Pete Wentz (6:56:09 PM): Yeah fuck get some to me Pete Wentz (6:56:19 PM): I think I may come see you in californaia Ryan Ross (6:56:44 PM): really? Ryan Ross (6:57:08 PM): that would be awesome Pete Wentz (6:57:46 PM): I've been listeneing to those songs nonstop. Is the band a side thing or is it gonna be fulltime? Ryan Ross (6:58:20 PM): no its full time Ryan Ross (6:59:24 PM): well aside from school. which sucks Ryan Ross (6:59:32 PM): but we want to do this Pete Wentz (7:00:00 PM): When are those kids out of school Ryan Ross (7:00:26 PM): the drummer and bass player are graduating early. so like january and other guitarist/singer graduates in the spring Pete Wentz (7:01:16 PM): Nice Pete Wentz (7:01:23 PM): Do you know about my label Ryan Ross (7:01:46 PM): yeah i think i saw something a while ago on a journal entry, is gym class heroes the only band on it right now? Pete Wentz (7:03:10 PM): Yeah. I signed the academy. But they are fbr strictly gym class and I am looking for another Pete Wentz (7:03:33 PM): The cool thing about it is I just met with waner and they want both of the bands and to give me an imprint Ryan Ross (7:03:55 PM): oh cool i like the academy alot, oh i see yea i was going to ask you about that Pete Wentz (7:04:03 PM): Which pretty much means a lot more money to promote cool artists Pete Wentz (7:04:14 PM): You guys plays out a lot? Ryan Ross (7:04:39 PM): thats awesome man. actually no we just kind of started this thing up a few months ago, the show in victorville is going to be our first one Pete Wentz (7:05:51 PM): Really Pete Wentz (7:05:56 PM): Interesting Pete Wentz (7:06:11 PM): How much do you guys practice Ryan Ross (7:06:45 PM): we've been trying to figure out the best way to do this stuff live, and we've been having a hard time on figuring out how to make it sound good. depending on the place we might not be able to use all the electronic stuff that we want to do which sucks but alot of venues, at least here might have a hard time setting us up. we practice at

least 4 times a week so like. between 24-30 hours a week Pete Wentz (7:07:09 PM): Nice Pete Wentz (7:07:21 PM): I am gonna come to the show Ryan Ross (7:08:13 PM): we wish we could more often. but school is getting in the way. and it sucks cause parents think its a waste of time playing music and want me to focus on school. im sure you know how that is. Ryan Ross (7:08:23 PM): thanks alot man really Pete Wentz (7:08:55 PM): I do Pete Wentz (7:09:05 PM): What are peoples reactions to it Ryan Ross (7:10:04 PM): some good some bad. everyone is so into post hardcore stuff these days that some kids just brush it off. which is fine but then some kids like it cause its a little different i guess Pete Wentz (7:11:30 PM): Can that kid sing live? Ryan Ross (7:12:54 PM): yeah, he's been taking voice lessons for a little bit so thats starting to help him Pete Wentz (7:13:19 PM): Is he on? I mean on here he sounds awesome Ryan Ross (7:14:21 PM): yeah he's on pitch, we recorded that stuff with like a 100 dollar vocal mic. the only effects we used was pretty much reverb on the main parts. Pete Wentz (7:14:42 PM): Yeah sounds good kind of like patrick Pete Wentz (7:14:47 PM): I like it Ryan Ross (7:16:57 PM): yeah thats the only thing we get that alot. and thats just how the kid sings. we like your band but we dont want to sound like you guys, or be compared to fob all the time you know? but yeah he is aware that kids say he sounds like patrick so he's just trying different vocal stuff sometimes. Pete Wentz (7:19:06 PM): Here's the thing if I show you guys interest a lot of crappy labels are gonna come and do the same and I don't want a huge mess out there. I mean how interested are you guys in going fulltime when you can Pete Wentz (7:19:19 PM): Yeah you'll get eh patrock thing but how many people. Sound like hime Ryan Ross (7:19:47 PM): so you really think we've got potential then? Pete Wentz (7:19:54 PM): I do Ryan Ross (7:20:05 PM): i've wanted to play in a band for my job ever since i started high school at least. Ryan Ross (7:20:07 PM): we all want to do this Ryan Ross (7:21:05 PM): its like i cant put enough dedication into anything exept playing guitar and writing Pete Wentz (7:23:01 PM): I'm with you Ryan Ross (7:24:05 PM): but yeah. i cant see myself doing anything else but playing in a band, cause every job i've ever had ive hated it Pete Wentz (7:24:57 PM): You don't have a picture of the band Ryan Ross (7:25:44 PM): no, but if you need it i could have my buddy take some tomorrow at practice Pete Wentz (7:26:58 PM): That would be rad Ryan Ross (7:27:37 PM): okay we'll take some Ryan Ross (7:28:08 PM): are you online much? Pete Wentz (7:33:12 PM): Sometimes Ryan Ross (7:33:35 PM): okay, i was just wondering if this was your email incase you arent on i'll just send them Pete Wentz (7:34:17 PM): Yeah send it here for sure Ryan Ross (7:34:36 PM): okay Ryan Ross (7:34:55 PM): dude this better not be a joke, it better be you Pete Wentz (7:35:12 PM): It is Pete Wentz (7:35:34 PM): But there are a lot of fakers out there Ryan Ross (7:35:55 PM): okay. yeah i know someone has shown me like fake journals of you and stuff. thats creepy Ryan Ross (7:36:10 PM): thats why i asked if it was you for sure Pete Wentz (7:36:32 PM): This guy who is iming me is your manager Ryan Ross (7:37:03 PM): is it xxxtoughffxxx ? Pete Wentz (7:37:22 PM): Yeah Ryan Ross (7:37:38 PM): i dont know if he's our manager. he's our friend, he's been helping us out with a website, merch and the show in victorville Ryan Ross (7:38:35 PM): he's starting a company up and he wants to help us out Pete Wentz (7:43:04 PM): Ah I got t Pete Wentz (7:43:32 PM): It Pete Wentz (7:43:37 PM): You guys are awesome and if its what I think it is I want ti to be thenext academy Ryan Ross (7:44:58 PM): wow thanks alot. i hope you like the stuff live, its not completely different but it is different. i mean the singing is the same and all that. Pete Wentz (7:47:46 PM): cool Pete Wentz (7:48:06 PM): You guys look good. The chicks gonna be swooning? Ryan Ross (7:48:38 PM): once we get

a keyboard player who can do all of the sampling we want to do it will be alot better too. its like we know how we want to sound, but just finding the right way to do it i guess is what we are working on. Ryan Ross (7:48:40 PM): hahaha Ryan Ross (7:48:51 PM): i dont know man, we look alright i guess Ryan Ross (7:48:57 PM): we look young Pete Wentz (7:49:42 PM): Youngs not abd at all Pete Wentz (7:49:47 PM): How does the singiner look Ryan Ross (7:50:05 PM): dead sexy. Ryan Ross (7:50:41 PM): he's no pete wentz. but still Pete Wentz (7:51:42 PM): Hahaha Pete Wentz (7:51:54 PM): Goddamn as long as he looks cool.singing Pete Wentz (7:52:14 PM): For sure send me pics and all how many songs you guys have? Ryan Ross (7:52:39 PM): haha Ryan Ross (7:53:00 PM): kk Ryan Ross (7:53:54 PM): we've only got 4 right now, its been tough to write since school started and everyone's busier. and those are the first 4 songs we've written as a band. at the show we'll play those and a cover of new order maybe. or depeche mode. we dont know yet Pete Wentz (7:56:08 PM): Nice Pete Wentz (7:56:21 PM): I gotta run Pete Wentz (7:56:32 PM): But ill hit you on here later Pete Wentz (7:56:38 PM): Send me those pics and write the hits Ryan Ross (7:56:43 PM): okay dude. good talking to you Pete Wentz (7:56:43 PM): Peaaaaaace Ryan Ross (7:56:44 PM): hahaha Ryan Ross (7:56:47 PM): later man Pete Wentz is away from the computer as of 7:56:51 PM. Auto response from Pete Wentz: Igot99problems Pete Wentz is back at the computer as of 10:05:48 PM. Pete Wentz is away from the computer as of 10:06:23 PM.

#pete wentz #ryan ross #brendon urie #i just don't trust shit not being deleted anymore don't mind me #reference #bandom #long post #panic at the disco

136 notes · View notes

scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

Text

Ginger Snap, Chapter 4

A/N Here’s the next chapter installment of Ginger Snap. I now have this story mentally plotted to its conclusion. It will have a total of 6 chapters, with perhaps a wee epilogue. In keeping with the theme, the title of this chapter is “Where There’s Smoke”.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

I glanced around the sitting room, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes. Well, not a stranger. Through Jamie’s eyes.

We had sold most of our furniture before leaving Boston, not considering it worth the expense of shipping across the Atlantic. Frank hired an interior decorating firm to furnish the third floor Southside flat before we arrived. The overall impression was stylish, if a bit soulless. Having grown up a virtual nomad, there were no mementos or heirlooms to speak for my personal journey. For the first time, I regretted their absence.

The buzzer rang, and I shook away my wistfulness. Jamie’s tousled curls and reckless grin greeted me as I opened the door. Today he wore a fitted navy jumper, faded grey jeans with frays about the ankles and the ubiquitous work boots. A messenger bag was slung across his broad chest.

“I hope I wasn’t supposed to supply the ingredients for today’s lesson, because my cupboards are bare,” I remarked after inviting him in.

“Jus’ as well. I wouldna squander yer food. I have all we need right here.” Reaching into his bag, he removed a clear container filled with chunks of pink meat swimming in a broth of blood. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

“What sort of dish will I be making with those?”

Those summer eyes shone in merry provocation.

“No’ a dish, Arsonist. An experiment.”

Two saucepans were set on the stove. Jamie had me place a few pieces of meat into the water of one pot before it warmed. To the other I added a pinch of salt and a clove of garlic, but waited until it came to a boil before adding the chicken. After five minutes, I used tongs to move the now-pale flesh to waiting salad plates. Neither looked particularly appetizing, but the first pot yielded a glutinous blob.

“I suppose this is the control group,” I remarked, looking at Jamie where he leaned against my countertop, ankles crossed like a cover model. “I’m already quite familiar with what culinary failure looks like, thank you.”

“No’ failure. Variability,” my teacher argued. “See here? If ye want meat tae dissolve til it doesna hold its texture, low heat is key. An’ if ye want tae infuse it with flavour, always combine heat an’ seasoning at the same time.”

I took a small nibble of chicken from the second pot, and sure enough it tasted mildly of garlic. It was otherwise quite bland, though. When I commented on this, Jamie nodded in excitement.

“Aye, verra good. Nature seeks equilibrium, as ye well know. Sae now ye have poultry tha’ tastes o’ water and water tha’ tastes o’ chicken. If ye were makin’ a stew or chicken stock, t’would be a good thing. Fer anything else, tis shite.”

I laughed, getting into the spirit of his well-executed game.

“Have ye any music?” he asked while we cleared away the results of round one. “I always cook better with a bit o’ background noise.”

There was a high-end stereo system in the living room, but I doubted Jamie would be interested in Frank’s collection of Brahms, Mahler and Celtic harp. Seeing my hesitation, Jamie dug out a portable speaker from his bag.

“Do ye mind?” I shook my head and soon my kitchen hummed with guitar chords and plangent vocals.

The lesson lasted far longer than the scheduled hour. Jamie had me bake, fry, roast and braise different samples, each time explaining why a particular technique might be used and insisting I taste the result. It was so much fun, I shed my habitual reticence while cooking.

“An’ now fer the pièce de résistance,” Jamie announced in dramatic tones. From his seemingly bottomless messenger bag he removed what appeared to be a miniature flame thrower.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, forgetting myself.

“I wanted ye tae ken there’s a place fer fire in the kitchen, Arsonist. Tis only a question of picking yer moment.”

With a flick of his lighter, he set the butane alight and handed me the small kitchen torch. Using extreme caution, I seared the outside of the two remaining morsels until they were a rich caramel colour. Jamie then wrapped them in foil, placing them in the oven to finish cooking. When they were cool enough to sample, the outside was pleasingly crunchy and sweet, while the inside swam in moist chicken-y flavour. We both declared them the winner.

“Tis a funny thing about fire,” Jamie remarked as he packed up his bag to leave by the more conventional front door route. “It can remain hidden beneath the surface, burying its secrets deep inside. Doesna mean it doesn’t burn, though.”

I thought about what he’d said long after he was gone, leaving me alone with his signature scent of rising bread and salt air.

That weekend, I blamed the poor weather when I declined Frank’s offer to shop for an engagement ring.

***

The next week, instead of asking to be buzzed inside, Jamie requested that I join him downstairs.

Grabbing a Mackintosh, my purse and slipping into comfortable walking shoes, I joined Jamie outside my door. He was particularly animated, despite the foul weather.

“We should ha’ started wi’ this lesson, but t’wasn’t the right day fer it,” he explained as we walked towards the farmers’ market that took place twice a week in the shadow of Castle Hill.

I considered protesting that I already knew how to shop for food, but Jamie’s enthusiasm was contagious.

We stopped at every stall, sampling the foodstuff on display, which was surprisingly varied despite it being November. Jamie knew most of the merchants by name and our progress was regularly halted by conversations on topics as varied as his family’s health, the latest rugby results and Scottish politics. I envied his wide circle of acquaintance and apparent ease interacting with them. There was no pretense, no stiffness, just a man who inhabited every square centimetre of his life to the fullest.

Jamie insisted that I taste various produce before adding it to the cloth bag he’d provided. Honey-crisp apples. Peppery radishes. Herb-infused venison sausage.

“Close yer eyes,” he instructed when I was practically dizzy with all the flavours. Still, I complied immediately. A rubbery moisture tickled my lips. “Open,” he said simply. I opened. “Tell me what ye taste, Arsonist.”

I chewed the morsel of cheese thoughtfully, letting the taste and texture coat my mouth before finally swallowing.

“Creamy. Thick. Salty. Sorrel.”

I opened my eyes only to fall into the inky vortex of Jamie’s pupils, which had expanded to almost eclipse his irises. His hand still hovered near my mouth, muscles frozen in abstraction. The cheesemonger let out an awkward little cough. Jamie blinked, and the moment vanished.

“Sorrel?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Yer lass has a fine palate, Fraser. My sheep graze in fields full o’ it.”

I allowed myself a smug little smile. Neither of us corrected the merchant’s presumptive pronoun.

Later that evening, I sat cross-legged before the fire with a picnic for one. Frank had called from his office earlier to say he was working on notes for an upcoming symposium. Before me lay the results of the afternoon’s market adventure. Closing my eyes as I ate, every mouthful set my senses ablaze.

We never found time to visit the jeweler that weekend either.

***

The next week, I fell ill with a miserable head cold. Frank was in Oxford for his symposium, so I called Ginger Snap myself and explained to Jenny in a hoarse voice that Jamie should avoid coming to my flat at all costs.

I was curled up in a mentholated daze when there was a series of knocks. It took several minutes to free myself from my blanket cocoon and shuffle to the front door. Glancing in the entryway mirror, my hair called to mind an electrified poodle and my nose was twelve shades of raw, but I opened the door anyway. No-one was there. Leaning out to peer down the hallway, I practically tripped over a brown paper bag resting at my feet.

Inside was a metal thermos, still quite warm to the touch. As I unscrewed the cap, my stuffed nose was assailed by fragrant steam. Homemade cock-a-leekie soup. I felt a glow fill my chest that had nothing to do with my fever. Pouring a helping into a mug, I shuffled back to my couch-nest. I felt better already.

***

The following week, Jamie was distracted. I’d thanked him profusely for the soup, and asked if he could show me how to make it for myself. As the chicken thighs and stock began to warm, however, I caught him glancing regularly at his phone, fingers drumming against his thigh.

“Are you expecting an important text?” I finally asked.

“Hmm? Och, Arsonist, I’m verra sorry. Tis only that we got a last-minute request tae cater a big corporate Christmas party, an’ Jenny is beside herself wi’ worrying.” He tucked him phone into the pocket of his cargo pants.

“When’s the party?”

“T’morrow,” he confessed.

“What! Jamie, what are you doing here? You should have called me to reschedule.”

“T’wouldna be fair, what wi’ us missing last week on account of yer sniffles. An’ wi’ Christmas ‘round the corner, I didna ken when I’d... er, when we’d have time for another lesson.”

I turned off the burner with a decisive twist. Jamie opened his mouth to lodge a protest, but I beat him to the punch.

“Jamie, the soup will keep. Growing your business is more important. I wish there was something more I could do to help, but under the circumstances...”

“Come wi’ me?” he blurted out.

I was nodding before the words finished leaving his mouth. Notwithstanding the fact that he had just literally been teaching me how to boil water, I didn’t want to lose his company so soon. We likely wouldn’t see one another again until after the New Year.

It was a thirty minute walk to Leith. Jamie could probably have covered the distance in half that with his long strides, were it not for me trotting along beside him. We stopped at several shops along the way to pick up provisions, arriving at Ginger Snap with our arms laden with the freshest food Edinburgh had to offer.

I had expected Jenny and Jamie to be working alone, but the fire station was abuzz with activity. I was hastily introduced to Angus, a distant Fraser cousin; Mary, a childhood friend of Jenny’s; and Murtagh, Jamie and Jenny’s godfather. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, and I stood awkwardly to one side, wondering what the hell I was doing there. I was preparing to make my excuses when Jamie called me over to a spare station. He gestured to the commercial-sized sink, which was full of vegetables of every dimension and colour.

“Claire, I need ye tae rinse and then cut these inta nice even pieces. Can ye do tha’ fer me?”

"Consider it done, chef,” I said with a jaunty salute.

There was a feeling of camaraderie as we each went about our assigned tasks. I chopped. Mary baked. Angus filleted. Jamie cooked, and Jenny plated the various canapés, salads and sauces and stored them in the enormous refrigerators that lined the back wall. Murtagh’s role seemed mostly to keep the troops in line with an assortment of verbal barbs.

Music played in the background. Volleys of witty banter flowed between us, but never at the expense of the work or anyone’s feelings. Angus nicked himself with his filleting knife, and Jenny sent him to my station for treatment, saying I was the team’s resident doctor. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at home.

Time passed quickly and before I knew it, it was dark outside. The bulk of the work was done and the pace slackened, the pressure of the looming deadline relieved. One by one we cleared our stations, meeting at the small seating area to share a well-earned drink.

Jenny sunk into the couch beside me and let out a loud sigh.

“Ouf, I canna believe we got it all done. Claire, ye were a godsend. Normally I do most o’ the prep work, but it leaves me no time tae arrange the dishes.”

I demurred, uncomfortable with the praise.

“Nay, Arsonist, ye were amazing,” Jamie began to object, but he was interrupted by my phone buzzing. Glancing down, I felt my face fall. I’d completely forgotten about Frank. Now he was texting, asking me where I was. I quickly fired off a reply, then stuffed the phone into my pocket.

“Everything alright?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s only my fiancé, asking when I might be home,” I answered, still distracted by my uncharacteristic lapse. As I glanced up, I ran straight into Jamie’s iceberg gaze.

“I didna realize ye were engaged,” he looked pointedly at my bare ring finger. “Congratulations.”

He said the word as though every syllable pained him. I quelled the urge to explain, to say it wasn’t a real engagement because I’d never agreed, that I’d only been looking for a sense of security, but somehow found myself in a cage.

Instead I hastily finished my drink, called myself an Uber and quietly wished everyone a good night, all while avoiding the many questions written across Jamie’s expressive face.

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

70 notes · View notes

ccelinewritess · 4 years

Text

the distance between us

pairing- draco malfoy x reader

word count- 9.7k

summary- the first time draco uses the muggle post system, it goes so terribly wrong, and a letter falls into the hands of a girl who was never supposed to see it, a muggle at that.

warnings- curse words, ptsd, anxiety/ panic attacks, depression mention of death, murder, blood and burns aswell as insomia, seperation anxiety (?) and my grammar.if these may trigger you, i suggested not reading.

a/n- this took me a while to get out, sry abt that. the reader was set to live in a canadian town called kelowna, british columbia. it takes place in readers grade 11/12 and dracos 6/7 year. i hope it’s not to self inserted, and you guys can enjoy and relate to it. big thank you to @dracodear for the help on this, love you! also thanks to everyone who left owl name suggestions, all were awesome and i ended up going with @winnsmills suggestion ‘noctua’ ! tumblrs been acting weird, so i hope it lets me post the whole thing. letters are in italics. also please note, this is off the movies timeline! i tried to fit in as many details as possible but some didn’t make it.

the town was widespread. wineries and mountains everywhere, the okanagan lake splitting it down the middle, reconnecting the cities halves by a bridge. little snow and tons of rain. jeep wranglers in every colour roaring around into unholy hours of the night, bustling with life yet all to lonely at times. but hey, that’s kelowna for you.

rain was running down the windows of y/ns most boring class, last period biology. she knew she should be paying attention. she had a high gpa to maintain, and couldn’t afford to fail another class besides french. the last five minutes of blabbering ended after what felt like a year.

‘you are dismissed, ill see you all monday, have a good weekend’ and with that everyone rose, heading to the parking lot as fast as possible in an attemp to dodge traffic. despite pouring rain, the air was hot, and on the ride home y/ns mind raced over every single assignment she had to complete over the next two days, while her hands tapped the steering wheel.

‘english essay, math review, history paper, business management graph’ she muttered under her breath. the town was busy, many students often blew off class to go shopping, or hit a movie, or smoke weed, the possibilities were endless. her house was cool compared to outside, and empty. no one was home, not that it was a surprise to the girl, people weren’t usually home, siblings gone to university, and parents working absurd amounts.

something caught her eye on the counter, an envelope, an ordinary seeming one, but absolutely covered in small pictured stamps with ‘england’ underneath each one. eighteen of them, all different. she knew shouldn’t open it, so she didn’t. at first. but it was irresistible. there was a return address written in the smallest writing she’d ever seen. wogshell, no, wiltshire? she took it to her room, and locked the door before ripping it open. she didn’t want the one time she had something intresting going on to be interrupted by whoever might show up.

her mouth fell open at every line of the same scroll. who was snape? why was this draco boy sending him a letter? he didn’t need his help to kill who? what the fuck was an unbreakable vow and why shouldn’t snape sign it? why was his mum going to see snape? who was the dark lord and why did he pick draco for a task? what kind of name is dumbledore?

what she already knew was confirmed- this letter was most definetly not for her. but newly- she opened a letter from a potential murderer or maybe it was a prank, a sick prank if it was one.

so instead she crafted up quite the response, whoever wrote this was either hysterical or in distress, and needed some sort of company- she thought, atleast.

it had been thirteen days, why wasn’t the letter back yet? the owl still couldn’t fly even about the house without damaging itself further. maybe using the muggle post system was a mistake. but better have it land into the hands of a muggle, who would likely throw it out, than a wizard who would know a death eater would soon be wondering around hogwarts.

as if on que, the door bell rang and echoed through the empty manor. on the porch sat an envelope, with only one stamp, his name in the middle and another he didn’t recognize in the corner. shit, this couldn’t be good. his eye caught the stamp. canada? fuck, this was supposed to go to cokeworth not bloody canada. no one was home so he opened it right there in the foyer.

hello, draco.

i am not snape- nor do i know who snape is. i am also very unfimilar with some of the vocabulary you used. dark lord? unbreakable vow? you seem to have quite the situation going on, if i read correctly. im not exactly stupid, but i do know that this letter was most definitely not supposed to be in my possession. i didn’t know who to send it to, id send it back to you, but you probably don’t want a copy of your own letter. i also know you likely have enough on your plate, but if you’d like someone to talk to im only half a world away, have no sort of schedule and am a good listener, well reader in this case. good luck with whatever task you’ve mentioned. p.s. you had about seventeen stamps to many, first time sending a letter? unfortunate fate, huh ? what kind of name is snape and what the heck is a dumbledore? i suppose it’s none of my business, knowing you likely won’t respond, but if you do i wrote my address on the front. have a good day/ night/ whatever time it is wherever you are.

y/n l/n

tears were welling in dracos eyes, he was floored, in a good and bad way. his task was already going downhill. the letter he sent snape had fallen into the hands of a muggle, who did not throw the letter away, but responded. and snape was likely going to bine himself into the task through the unbreakable vow, which draco was more than able to complete. he wouldn’t have been chosen if he wasn’t, right?

not only had she responded, she offered him help, well distant company, to a stranger who obviously had quite a few problems and she clearly had no regard for her own safety. he couldn’t tell her about the wizarding world. not that he could tell her about anything, she could be lying. he had a task to focus on, he couldn’t write her back.

and that was true- at the time. he had no intent of writing the girl back. and yet he found himself reading the 201 words over and over, running his hands across the paper, expecting them to fade away as he wiped. counting and recounting. he surely couldn’t talk to any of the twats at hogwarts, maybe a stranger could help numb the pain. and as long as he didn’t tell anyone- she couldn’t get hurt, she was to far.

draco was packed for hogwarts, the response at the bottom of the trunk, underneath his clothes. he’d just have to get to the damn school, then he could write all he wanted- without his parents knowledge or ridicule. his mind jumbled together what he was going to say while his friends rambled on. the train pulled up to the castle after dreadful hours and he could barely sit still during the opening feast. his thoughts did falter though, when dumbledore gave his speech, he felt guilty- the shame of his family weighing on his shoulders. he looked around, all his classmates staring in adoration at a man who would be dead ten months from now, and they were sitting in the same room as his killer.

the singular room was nice, he knew it wasn’t for lounge, but for plots of death.

before he began he started making promises to himself. if i get behind on the plan ill won’t write, if snape notices anything about it, ill stop. the list went on and on.

he couldn’t put his pen down, the words continued to fly out the end, was he oversharing?

dear y/n

my deepest apologies that my last letter found it’s way to you. im sure you didn’t expect whatever you may have perceived from it. honestly, i don’t know how it arrived all the way over there. im almost positive you have better things to do than listen to my problems, and i know you had no control over the fact it arrived, but i ask you to please not share this information with anyone. i am unsure if i will take up your offer of amity, if you were serious that is. im at school now, so if you’d like to respond, not that you have to- you can send letters back with my owl, it’ll be faster (and i won’t have to worry about stamps- thanks for the tip by the way)

draco malfoy

and with that noctua was off into the night, and he could only hope that it would make it to her.

droll was running down y/ns chin and she was caught in a dream. suddenly a vigorous tapping on the window pulled her into consciousness, the sight of owl knocking her backwards in a scare. a crash sounded, if the tapping didn’t wake anyone up, that surely did. she almost considered just trying to ignore it, until she noticed a letter tied to its neck and reluctantly opened the window. she’d never seen an owl in real life before, but was aware from school that they weren’t exactly the kindest of creatures. this one just perched on the window while she removed the new enevelope, no stamps in sight. just a neatly printed address, and his in the corner.

from the new letter she learned even more- this wasn’t a prank, draco was a real person, was still in school, and whatever the first misplaced letter contained was true. he had some sort of task and didnt want help, but that was all. so with what she could, she wrote another response. it took an hour and she wasn’t exactly sure what she had written by mid morning.

draco

you’d be quite suprised actually, it gets lonely over here. i still haven’t exactly deciphered your original note, so if you would like to help me understand i think i’d be ready. and no worries about me, my lips are sealed. what is an unbreakable vow, im curious? you go to boarding school? and owls, really? what the hell is up with that? im pretty sure it’s illegal to own one here, but we are countries away, so perhaps it’s different all the way over there. send whatever you want. i do not- by the way- have anything better to do in the slightest.

y/n

he continued to write throughout the month of september, which bled into october before he knew it. he was avoiding questions about the task, just wanting someone to talk to. it wasn’t easy, she was curious, which draco couldn’t exactly be mad at her for that since he continued to write her, accepting the distant friendship that was forming.

he was learning a lot about her aswell. besides french, which he informed her he spoke fluently numerous times, she was a very good student. she was single, he didn’t remember how that came up but made a note in his mind- he couldn’t date her, nor did he know enough about her to be properly involved.

she read a lot of books, sappy romances mostly, couldn’t cook anything deemed edible by anyone, and her favourite colour was green, he smirked when reading that for the first time. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future, just not a doctor like her parents wanted.

y/n was sitting in english as her teacher reviewed about univeristy application requirements. only next year they would be getting accepted and denied from their dream schools. she’d spent years dreaming of it, university, and yet somehow a boy half way around the was racing through her mind. she felt horrible about it, the small crush. it was incredibly selfish, falling for a boy with so much going on, he certainly didn’t need her as anything more than a friend to talk to, but he was good with his words, and making her feel important too. her dismissal came and so did a classmate, approaching confident and cocky.

‘hey, l/n’ he said, a smirk on his face

‘oh, uh hey, will’

‘what are doing tonight?’ her mind went blank, any excuse, come on, say something

‘i have plans’ wow real specific, great job, y/n

‘like what’

‘fish funeral, real important stuff, my family is just devastated’ her voice was clearly sarcastic and that was all before she walked right out. no she didn’t exactly have plans, but waiting for dracos owl provided much more company than any date could have. the sight of dracos owl flying towards the pre-opened window was somewhat relieving, she didn’t know why, just the fact that he had not failed yet, and was still out there was nice. she hadn’t had this much company. since last year at least, when her supposed best friend started ghosting her because of some petty shit.

thankfully noctua ad gotten quite good at being discreet when delivering the letters. of all the things on y/ns junior year bucket list, explaining to her parents that she had befriended a british boy with an owl who flyed into her room while her neighbours had a clear view, wasn’t one. she also began keeping a bowl of water under her bed for the owl to drink when it arrived, knowing it couldn’t have been easy travelling back and forth.

y/n

im not fully sure you want to know the depth, yet you seem to want me to corrupt you with my villain with a task baggage. i suppose it couldn’t hurt if i told you about the unbreakable vow. it’s like a promise or a bond, but if you break it then you die. if you can stomach that i may be able to tell you more. how far away do you reckon we are?

draco

draco wasn’t falling behind too far, but his first attemp had failed, and panic attacks were taking up most his time. he never had any, at least not this bad until this year. at least once a day he would start sweating, no matter how cold he was, unable to control his breathing or tears, feeling like the walls were caving in upon him.

that is, besides writing y/n as much as he could. apparently she was being honest, she had no schedule of any sort besides going to school. he hated to say, but he was becoming attached, he didn’t exactly know how either, but everytime he recieved a letter a small weight was lifted from his shoulders, even just when he read it.

noctua was doing the weekly, almost daily round at breakfast with the other owls and draco watched with anticipation as a letter dropped on his lap and owl on his shoulder. he tried to conceal the letter into his robes but pansy had taken matters into her own hands. likely jealous that she’d spent collectively around six hours with him the whole year, and he never talked to her like he used to.

‘ou draco whats this’ twirling the envelope between her hands. the letter had no name, no stamp, only a small heart drawing in the corner.

‘hands off parkinson’ he said while taking the letter back. ‘a letter from my mother, if you must know’ he said knowing that neither his mother or father had written him anything, despite having all the time to do so.

he got up and left the second he was done, not wanting to draw snapes suspicion about who could possibly be more important than working on this task.

he rushed to his room, desperate for more of her words. he tried to picture her voice in his head, but had to remind himself she wasn’t british nor was she from southern america.

draco,

so you just die if you break the promise? intresting. it’s not as hard to stomach as you seem to think, very unique tradition i suppose. you are not a villain draco, you haven’t told me much about it but your to good of a person to have picked any of this for yourself. i calculated when we you were home, seven thousand three hundred something, i don’t know where your fancy boarding school where you have owls for pets is, so it may be further. im ready whenever you are.

y/n

her letter was relieving for him aswell, even in the slightest it helped, but she deserved some sort of answer for helping him take his mind off the task for a couple minutes. he could tell if she wasn’t scared off already, this would do it.

y/n

if you are sure, here it is. dumbledore is my headmaster, the dark lord is a very powerful wizard, and snape is my professor. if i don’t kill dumbledore before july, he will kill me and my family, if i can’t complete the task, snape will kill him under terms of an unbreakable vow. im not a very good villain that’s for sure, my first attemp failed, and my classmate is out cold. i understand if you dont want to write to me anymore, just don’t tell anyone about this, please.

dm.

the only words to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her senses as she read were devastation and shock. tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to imagine herself with that much responsibility to wildhold until july. another detail that caught her eye, wizard? what did he mean by wizard? is that the word for dictator in england? certainly he wasn’t talking about the wizards she read about in storybooks as a child. her hand shook slightly and she debated mentioning it.

draco

you’re silly if you think i’d stop writing you. you need company now more than ever. please don’t hold things back from your letters, you deserve someone to talk to. that is quite the situation, im sorry if i pushed you, you do have enough on your shoulders and i want to help you as much as i can. i hate to ask, but you mentioned ‘wizards’ and i am a bit confused.

all my love

initially, draco went into shock. he knew he was probably oversharing, but didn’t expect to slip up in that way. he begrudgingly admitted; knowing that if this went badly he would likely be banished from the wizarding world, which didn’t seem like such a horrible punishment to him anymore. and yet she was fascinated, by the coins he sent her, the subjects he learned- which she compared to her own much less exciting ones, and everything he told her about it. he could now talk to her about much more, since both his secrets were now out in the open to her. he told her about the about the houses, and they both agreed she would probably be in hufflepuff, well he thought so, her kind and accepting nature, and she didn’t know enough to disagree. and for the first time in the long time he was seeing things differently, completely diminishing the rude behaviour he often displayed towards the house.

she even sent him a picture, the first time he ever saw her face. a large smile spread across her beautiful features, she seemed to be laughing. eyes glistening in the sun even prettier than he could have imagined. he slept with it under his pillow, and could stare at the still image for hours. no it didn’t move around, but he couldnt care less. he only had one picture of himself in his possession and he was young, about four. she was facinated by the moving image, his blonde hair and attitude shining right through. he would owl his mother for a more recent one, but didn’t want to explain why.

the letters were helping him, but the task wasn’t advancing. his second attempt had failed, he was caught sneaking into slughorns party, and harry was onto him. they were also causing him doubt. say they did get the cabinet fixed, he couldn’t see himself killing dumbledore anymore, the more he talked to her he realized he couldn’t be a killer, as cold as he was to some people, but he had to, didnt he?

most importantly every letter she sent gave him a sense of hope. that the second this is over he could move. away from voldemort, and potter, his parents even, england in whole. perhaps not to canada, but it could be a change, half way across the world with the girl who was helping him stay alive through his letters. he just needed to stay alive long enough too see her.

the seasons changed around draco, but his room stayed the same. hot from mysterious potions, for himself and some for dumbledore, he had not had much hope after the wine, though. it was lonely, not that he’d like y/n here, he’d much rather be there, all the way across the world.

may came in a blur, and finals were creeping up. one week y/n sat at her desk, every night, waiting for a letter that didn’t come. on the fifth letterless day she cried. not exactly knowing why, it wasn’t her that had much of a reason to cry, but dracos company had filled her lonely life up with light of its own, leaving it darker than it was before she saw the first letter. she was silly to be so attached and silly to expect him to reciprocate the feelings she had proclaimed in the last one she sent, and should have expected him to stop eventually. so she continued on with school, finding it a bit easier to concentrate now that a draco sized whole was missing from her brain, and her heart aswell.

the next week, though, a letter came, very appreciated by y/n as the whole other universe, british boy forgetting thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

y/n

im sorry for not writing, the classmate i mentioned all those months ago woke from the curse, and the potter twat hexed me with a spell id never heard of before. i would have tried to contact with you but i couldn’t exactly trust what my brain was planning on writing, and the cuts are still a bit sore. the cabinets fixed, but even if everything works out okay i won’t be writing very much at all. i’ll be home in july, but the manor will be infested with death eaters and i can’t let you get hurt. thank you for everything l/n.

draco

it stung a little, knowing that the empty feeling the girl just experienced would be more frequent, he didn’t mention anything about what she had said, and that this could be the last time she ever heard from him if he didn’t kill dumbledore. in hindsight, practically telling her she loved him in a letter wasn’t what he needed, she knew that.

he left out the fact that he the spell put a him in a huge emotinal draught. he was exhausted constantly, crying even more than before. the cuts were sore, so he wasn’t holding everything back.

the last month of school came and went all to fast for dracos liking, and death eaters now roamed around the castle, causing havoc where ever they could. his trunk had been shurken so small it looked like a small muggle toy he put into his pocket easily. the dark mark that was stretched across his left arm was now hanging in the gray sky, and the headmaster was no where to be seen. he paced anxiously around a vacant corridor until he heard a pop in the astronomy tower. he didn’t think people could apparate into hogwarts, it would have made his job much easier.

‘harry, get snape, i need snape now’ he seemed exhausted, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard

‘sir im going to sit you down okay, and then ill go get madam pomf-‘

‘severus, harry, I need severus now, go get him and talk to no one else’ he said in a shallow yet somewhat urgent and angry tone.

draco waited for footsteps to disappear, before whipping the door open with his wand already ready.

‘oh hello, draco, nice to see you on this fine evening’ he said nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall.

‘EXPELLIARMUS’ draco boomed, successfully disarming the man without counter attempts before glancing around to see a second broom

‘who else is here?’ he said sounding confident but feeling the opposite

‘i could ask you the same question, acting alone are you? you don’t seem supported’

‘no, there are death eaters in your school tonight, and i got them here’ he snarked ‘they’ll be up, any minute now, their fighting down below. i’ve got a job to do’

‘well done boy, if you don’t mind me asking a few questions, before you get on with it, im very intrested’ was he kidding? he knew draco was about to kill him right? wanting to stall, and not fully wanting to kill him he nodded his head yes.

‘you seem scared to act until they join you

‘im not scared, you should be scared’ he snarled, unable to contain the fear in his voice any longer any longer

‘oh draco’ he sighed ‘while we wait for your friends arrive, care to explain how you smuggled them in here? i never imagined it possible, especially not by a student’

‘i had to mend the broken cabinet that no ones used for years, there’s another one in borgin and burkes. montague got stuck in told everyone stories about it, how he could sometimes hear what was going on in the shop and sometimes hear hogwarts like a passage, and i was the only one who discovered what it meant. not even borgin, not you either, i did it right under your nose, you didn’t realize anything’ he said

‘you are right, i didn’t know that. i do- on the other hand, know that you aren’t a killer’

he raised his wand a little higher, feeling wheezy and as though his legs would give in any second

‘how you know that, I’ve done despicable things, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom’

it was dumbledore’s time to pause, glancing up at the sky and looking around the room before continuing

‘draco i know you almost killed katie bell and ron weasley. you’ve been trying to kill me all year, forgive me for saying this, but they’ve been very feeble attempts. to be honest ive wondered wheather your heart has truly been in it’

‘it has, and if you knew why didnt you stop me’

‘snape has been watching over you on my orders’

‘ it’s not on your orders, he promised my mother-‘

‘ofcourse he would tell you that, but it happens to be that i trust professor snape’

‘your losing it then, he’s a double agent, he isn’t working for you- he’s been trying to get in on the action all year, helping me and all. doesn’t matter now- he probably doesn’t even know they are here yet, he will wake up tomorrow and no longer be the dark lords favourite, he will be nothing compare to me’ confidence was building within him

‘very gratifying, we all like being recognized for our hard work, but, draco?im standing here wandless and weak, unable to defend myself, and you have not made any move to kill me, dont blame me for believing you will not, but let’s discuss your options’

‘my options’ he laughed ‘im standing here with a wand, about to kill you’

‘oh dear boy, if you were going to kill me you would have when you disarmed me, not stayed for a little chat’

‘i haven’t got any options, don’t you understand, i have to kill you, or he will kill me’

‘okay, if you don’t want to join the order with your mother where we could protect you, i only have one more question’

‘better hurry, theyre on their way’ he almost laughed which was quickly replaced when Dumbledore said his next words.

‘who is y/n l/n’ at that a tear fell down dracos face, and he lowered his wand almost completely

‘i-i don’t know who that is, odd l-last words’ he stuttered

‘draco dont play dumb now, not after we discovered you are very intelligent. we left some of the security measures from last year that Umbridge enabled, and I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of letters flowing to and from her. i looked into student files, ilvermornies too, nothing, id never heard the name, a muggle i presumed. but of all the things, that had me the most confused. i couldn’t figure out why you would be contacting her, so i did some meddling’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO’

‘fiesty all the sudden, are you? i felt bad after opening this, it seemed very personal, and i probably should given it too you sooner, but i was a bit preoccupied double checking my drinks and all’ dumbledore said handing him the letter.

draco

how is the cabinet coming? it’s raining even more here than usual, all day and night. and don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. you are just a kid, you shouldn’t be forced to be a hero. you are protecting so many people right now, but i don’t need any. you have given my life enough light in the last few months than i ever recall, and im so thankful that letter came to me. i wish you were here with me right now, but i know you can’t be, so just stay alive, okay?

y/n

more tears fell, he hated being so weak at the mention of her, crying before he completed the blessing his father and bellatrix considered the task to be.

‘she’s right, draco, you deserve another chance’

he was speechless, and could tell Dumbledore knew he found his weakness.

‘i always pictured you and pansy, never in a million years imagined you to be in a relationship with a muggle’

‘no matter who does it, your about to be killed, and im not here to discuss my love life am i?’

‘so you do love her?’ before draco could even think he heard a door open and raised his wand, hiding the letter faster than he had ever moved.

‘shut up, they will kill her’ he said quietly and desperately

in walked fenrir greyback, yaxley, and bellatrix. they made banter of their own, but her words replayed. he couldn’t do it.

‘go on draco’ his aunt whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

‘DO IT, DO IT BOY’ she yelled, in a high pitched and annoying voice

he felt a strong arm over his chest, pushing him aside, and he saw the whoosh of snapes robes and an already pleading dumbledore

‘severus, please’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’ snape shouted, a green flash producing from the end of his wand, hitting the old man square in the chest. draco rushed over to the edge, watching him fall. it was a long way down.

the rain had sudsided, sunlight leaking into her room during the day. watching the sky at night, failing to find constellations he described many times to her. her wardrobe was mostly untouched, remaining in pyjamas most of the week. the odd time she did leave, she saw her old friends walking and laughing out her car window. eating and socializing felt like a chore, and she hadn’t communicated with the boy since may. he could be dead, she didn’t know. there was no death on the ‘muggle’ news, and draco wasn’t on the top wanted list, not that he likely would be on the television all the way over here. he could be fine, in wiltshire, going to dinner parties and holding balls. or maybe, he too, was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling for days on end. she had now hung the picture of a young draco by her desk, not needing to worry about anyone seeing. her siblings were once again home, but out living their lives so much that it still felt like they were gone. for the first time she noticed his scroll on the back.

‘i was four when this was taken i believe, my hair is very similar, i was quite sassy, im sure that shows without explanation.’ she blushed while reading, it was true. his hands were on his hips whipping his head around.

every day was a surprise around malfoy manor. not the kind of surprise draco liked. not the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he read y/ns letters, those were replaced by a pit as they were summoned around the large table in the dining room. the first one he attended was horrible, watching his muggle studies teacher being hung above their heads, pleading for the help of severus as she died. he bit his tongue in an attempt to avoid raging about about every comment surrounding muggle culture. each one tore his heart, as he imagined the girl all those kilometres away, the girl he had no contact with, but he looked at her picture as much as possible, and hoped one day he could make her smile again like she did in the image.

senior year was here, and y/n schedule picked up once again. her timetable was full, maybe it was best, a distraction, after a whole summer of thinking alone in her room. draco was on her mind at night, no matter how hard she tried to forget. she’d made friends with her creative promotions partner, logan. he was certainly not intrested in her in anyway besides friends, but company after all this time was enjoyable, just in the hour of class

draco had little privacy, with death eaters in every hallway, conversing with eachother. wherever he went someone was there, until he finally got sick of it and began going to the garden bench. with a book, sometimes, giving some of the sappy love stories y/n mentioned a try or even the poetry books she sent with noctua awhile back, they were okay, but his heart hurt at the feeling of relation in every line. he could only read one or two poems at a time, without tears forming in his green orbs.

sometimes he went with a pen and a notebook. he wrote about everything. the smell of the plants around him, the feeling in his chest when the dark lord called for a meeting. most of the notebook, though, was filled with poems of his own. and letters he had no intention of sending for her own safety. she wasn’t in harms way, though, other followers were preoccupied with ruining weddings and other things they considered fun. he blabbered on for pages, about how he missed seeing noctua fluttering towards him at breakfast. how he rereads the letter that dumbledore gave him the night he died. how she listened to him rant on and on, giving her support no matter how evil he felt. how he found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

snow was falling once again, he had to dress in layers, making it hard to write often, the plants started dying as cold settled over and his mother no longer babied him like she used to before the death eaters began inhabiting the mansion. he couldn’t keep himself company any longer and gave into the pressure he put on himself. as long as they were careful, she’d be in no destruction- he prayed as he wrote what seemed to be an appropriate response after all this time.

like it had been decades, she flinched at the noise of the owl on the window, carrying a much larger scroll that he’d ever sent before, some parts scratched out and written above. his writing was much less tidy than she remembered, like the letters on the page were anxious for her reaction.

love,

after all this time, im sorry you are just now hearing from me. you have ever single right to be annoyed with me, after you listened to me for months, helping me emotionally in ways i never be able to repay you for. you do not need to forgive me, or write me back. i just wanted to keep you safe. but i needed to tell you everything before it might actually be to late. you’ve probably moved on and forgotten about me, like you should, but i guess im saying that i am alive. i didn’t kill him either. snape did. i thought i was going to be able to, but he started talking about you. he gave me a letter from you that he had already opened, the words repeated in my head over and over. you talked about how i deserved another chance, and how you wish I’d was there with you. right before he died he asked me if i loved you. i knew the answer but didn’t have time to say it. ive read your poetry books, they aren’t as bad as i once thought, i can’t read to many at once. i try to forget what dumbledore said that night, and that night altogether. but one day i read ‘that’s how you know you love someone, i guess. when you cant experience anything without wishing the other person was there to see it too.’ when i sit in the garden i imagine you smelling the flowers, myself picking one and putting it behind your ear. when i go on walks i imagine your hand in mine. youre in my dreams. my never ending thought. i remember the way i felt when we started talking a lot, and how I felt when we didn’t get a chance. you listened to me when no one else offered. not even my parents. i hope your doing okay, and smiling and laughing. i don’t care if we talk about absolutely nothing, i just want to talk to you. i know that’s unfair to you after all ive weighed on you. but i guess that’s all, i love you. draco ♡

well this certainly didn’t get him off her mind. she didn’t need to either. ofcourse she was going to write him back, but she needed time to think about her response. she missed the next day of school, and his owl was comfortably standing on her desk, nibbling away at the water and crumbs. she took an hour long shower, multiple naps, raided her fridge, and had to email the school pretending to be her mum, excusing her for the day. before she even knew what she was going to write, she began on a new piece of paper. she’d have thought longer, but was sure draco would be convinced she stole noctua out of anger.

draco,

wow. i don’t really know what to say. i knew you weren’t a killer, and i meant what i said about you deserving more chances. i will admit i was angry, and a bit confused. i sent that letter with high hopes. i don’t know what i was hoping for at the time, i was being incredibly selfish. but couldn’t help myself feel pained when you didn’t mention it in the next letter when you said harry hexed you. i know we can’t be together, especially not right now, but i love you too. i wish more than anything you were here with me right now, and it was you i’d be graduating with half a year from now. i wish you were in the passenger seat of my car while i drive through the city. i wish you could point out the constellations in the sky. i usually can’t read to many poems either, they get me thinking to much. im ready to write again if you are.

y/n

draco hadn’t felt more joy in a long time. around seven months. she loved him, and that was enough happiness for a life time. he just needed to stay alive.

they continued to stay in touch, almost as if they never stopped talking, entertaining eachother as much as possible, masking their separate misery and the distance between them. he could get time away from the reality that was his life for a while, he thought, until snatchers brought the trio he spent so long bickering with to the manor.

a very distorted looking harry fell before him, his hair tightly gripped by bellatrix.

‘well, is it him’ he knew it was harry. and yet a part of him couldn’t bring himself to letting the boy get killed.

‘i can’t be sure’ he lied

‘draco, look closely son’ lucius said loudly, getting a grip on the back of dracos neck before leaning in and whispering.

‘if we are the ones that hand potter to the dark lord, all will be f-forgiven. a-all will go back to how it was’

his father and the and a snatcher quickly got into an arguement. lucius was yelling something about the manor before narcissa calmed him with a hiss.

‘don’t be shy, sweetie come here take a closer look’

draco was know level with him. the scar was still visible on his forehead, and swollen eyes staring back at him, hopeless.

‘what’s wrong with his face’ draco said

‘yes what is wrong with the boys face’ a shrill voice repeated

‘he was like that when we got him, something he picked up in the forest i reckon’

bellatrix walked away, laughing away at something. the blonde boys eyes were still on harry, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. bellatrix began acting out, yelling about a sword, putting ropes around snatchers neck from the end of her wand. sword now in her hand she walked over to ronald weasley, grabbing his collar and demanding that the boys be put in the cellar.

a different draco would have gladly watched a mudblood be tortured by his aunt. but he flinched at every scream of hermione, unable to watch he went to the next room, resisting tears as he thought of the girl he fell for enduring the same. she had moved onto the goblin- ridiculing it about who got into her vault- and hermiones screams were now gone.

‘youre lucky, goblin, the same won’t go for this one’ he heard footsteps

‘like hell it wont’ he heard ron yell, followed by the expelliarmus and what must have been harry stupefying his father. draco rushed in, now dueling a more normal looking harry, until their attention caught on bellatrix, a knife to grangers throat. they dropped there wands, and he did as instructed, picking them up. lucius was summoning the dark lord when they heard a tittering on the ceiling, and the chandlier crashing. it all moved so fast and harry was now wrestling draco for his wand back. he tried, but harry had already pried it out of his cold and shaky hands.

‘STUPID ELF. THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME’

‘dobby never meant to kill. dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure’ the house elf squeaked, and draco had never resisted a chuckle so hard.

‘HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WITCHES WAND. HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS’

‘dobby has no master, dobby is a free elf, and he has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.’ and with that they apparated out, not without bella throwing a knife into the mix.

meanwhile, y/n was receiving letters of her own. not from draco either. letters from the schools she applied to. so far everything was good, except for princeton, but she didn’t have the highest expectations. she was accepted to the university of british columbia, seattle university, even ucla. she only had one letter left, and the large stuffed yellow envelope sat in her hands. she wasn’t sure about it- would she even be able to go to the univeristy of london? it was far, but draco was there, well closer to there atleast. accepted- it read. it was an option, and she still had weeks to think about it.

draco was very hesitant to write after the incident at the manor, the screams of Hermione, and the terrifying looking potter still vivid in his brain and nightmares. he often woke from sleep in a sweat, yet freezing cold. whispers of the war around his house also haunted his mind and soul. he’d walk to the window and look up at the the stars, they were under the same sky, at least. eventually he had to write her, it had been half a month and he couldn’t leave her hanging alone again.

y/n

love, im sorry for being hesitant, but there is going to be a war. i hate to leave you contact-less, but i need you to be safe now more than ever. i couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. potter and his friends were brought here to the manor, it didn’t last long- they escaped within the hour and a half. with that doped elf, and a goblin too. if you don’t hear from me again, remember i love you. and always will.

draco

of all the letters y/n had recieved, from draco in all, that was probably the most displeasing. a war? like with tanks and bombs? tears were shedding down her face as she wrote the shortest response yet. knowing he most definitely didn’t have time to listen to her talk about schools, and how she got accepted to london, but her parents deemed it to far, ubc would have to do, she’d find her way to him eventually, if they were meant to be.

draco

stay safe, i love you.

yn.

draco now stood at snapes new office, dozens of corpses on the floor, pooled in blood. the dark lord speaking parsel tounge to nagini. no one needed to speak it to know that the man was infuriated about something potter had done.

the information he left was lacking, was he serious? what did wizarding wars even look like? her graduation date was set, June 6th, but it all seemed irrelevant, suddenly picking out a dress didn’t seem as fun as she thought, same with getting portraits taken. should she have said more?

next thing he knew the protection spell was countered and he apparated in, grabbing zabani and goyle by the collar. rushing them into a corridor and waited for the door of the room of requirement to completely vanish before approaching himself. they successfully found harry, opening a box carefully before finally drawing attention to themselves.

‘well well, what brings you here, potter’ draco said, softly, much to his surprise as he meant it to sound snarky and rude

‘i could ask you the same’

‘i believe you have something of mine, and id like it back’ was he becoming… kind?

‘whats wrong with the one you have?’ harry replied

‘it’s my mothers, powerful but different, doesn’t fully understand me, im sure you know the feeling’

‘why didn’t you tell her. bellatrix? you knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her’ he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, nor did he know. harry really didn’t have anything to do with his feelings for y/n, maybe he should have just turned in him when he had the chance, it would all be over if he had.

‘don’t be a wuss draco, just do it now’ goyle whispered in his ear, making him chill the same way bellatrix did on the astronomy tower, almost a year ago.

‘expelliarmus’ hermione half shouted, causing narcissas want to fly out of dracos hands and run the other way.

‘avada kedavra’ goyle missed and weaslebee started chasing after them, yelling something about his girlfriend. turning back around after goyle unsuccessfully casted the fiendfyre curse.

fear was making his body almost rattle as he desperately climbed bookcases in an attemp to outrun the flames. he watched goyle fall, into the orange. yes, he was a complete and utter twat, but wasn’t a half bad friend during dracos bullying peek. his foot slipped, now just his hands were keeping him up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. in the distance he saw the three, zooming off to safety in the distance, leaving them their to die. not that he blamed them, after anything he did to them, he would have probably left himself there aswell.

but potter was flying towards him, arm out-stretched, grabbing onto his own and hoisting himself on the broom. had he already died? must not have, because the heat had finally caughten up. feeling as though he was going to pass out, he gripped tighter onto harry, maintaining his position on the broom. so much for staying safe. the second they made it out, they crashed onto the ground. he wanted to thank harry, but found himself running off instead.

explosions and hexes were being sent everywhere. people dying left and right. giants and trolls and spiders helping, he found himself in the slytherin common room. partially because he wanted to say goodbye, as he never wished to return to the building again once he had the choice. and partially as he was now aware of a large burn on his arm, and he felt a need to put off fighting until absolutely necessary. he entered through the portrait, for the last time. it felt like an aquarium, looking out upon the lake filled windows, merpeople and the giant squid often zooming by. he sat down upon the sofa, where he spent countless hours avoiding homework, plotting against potter and swimming in lust of his pure-blood status that now felt like a curse. he went up to his dorm, where he did very similar things. he wondered as to what he would be doing if he was a muggle right now. picking out a suit for graduation, buying a corsage for his date, but he wasn’t, so he best get going. running his hands along the furniture before leaving, not looking back.

the noise in the entrance courtyard had completely been diminished and draco found his way into the crowd of students pooling in. death eaters swarmed towards them at a painfully slow place, his mother and father near the head of the group. he noticed hagrid, towering above them, carrying what could only have been harrys corpse.

he watched carefully as they approached, trying to wedge himself inbetween and behind other students.

‘harry potter is dead’ voldemort paused ‘from now on, you put your faith in me’ silence fell over the hundreds of people who were know gathered. he swished his robes and turned backwards facing his followers

‘HARRY POTTER IS DEAD’ obnoxious and deafening cackles erupted

‘and now is the time to declare yourselves. come to our side, or die’ even more silence fell.

‘draco’ his father hissed before repeating ‘draco’

he felt eyes fall all over him, gazing expectantly. tears ran down his face.

don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. was this what she meant? he’d been looking for another chance, maybe this was it.

he shook his head no, and noticed his father had fallen a shade of pale he didn’t know existed.

‘Draco, DRACO’ he yelled, clearly enranged, but before he could continue - a movement shifted in hagrids arms, and harry fell out. in a heartbeat draco threw his wand to the scar faced boy. he caught it, looking grateful as he could while casting some sort of spell at nagini. death eaters were disappearing into the air- including lucius, narcissa being dragged with him.

draco didn’t know what to do with himself, he was wandless and he couldn’t fight, unless he wanted to engage in an actual physical duel, which he didn’t. he found himself in the great hall, asking professor sprout if she needed help patching those up, she pulled him into a hug, unexpectantly. he never recalled such contact or connection with a professor. he spent the rest of the battle helping healing wounds with dittany, and caring for those left in the wake. it was a nice distraction from the fact he would most definitely be disowned, left a family-less orphan at 17.

y/n couldn’t blame him for not writing, he clearly stated that it might be the last time. but every night she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, or until she fell asleep. how could she like him so much? they’d never even met. she didnt really need to see him to know him, his letters told him enough about him. and she could only hope- that if he managed through his six year without killing his headmaster, he could make it through the war.

he delayed going back to the manor for as long as possible, until he decided to apparate directly into his room. he considered packing his things up, but realized no one was home. he was thankful, he don’t think he would ever be able to fully confront his parents again. he fell asleep in his bed, and slept for 48 hours straight. he slept through very vivid dreams, ones of y/n being tortured the same way as Hermione, ones of the dark lord coming alive once again and killing his mother because of his choices. he couldn’t bring himself to sleep again purposefully, no matter how exhausted he was. the days weren’t much better, his mind raced at unbelievable paces. he saw the dead bodies laying around the great hall, the unrecoverable ones. maybe he should have just fallen into the fire, surely that would have been easier. he was slowly becoming thinner, and always needed multiple blankets to even stay at a somewhat warm temperature, his heart beat faster than normal. he often felt pains in his neck, and his eyes were almost always puffy from crying. he spent so much time in bed he almost didn’t hear his owl flutter onto his nightstand mid afternoon, a small package tied loosely around his neck.

he opened it to see a letter, muggle candies and a worn book. suddenly he felt more awake, and be shot up a little to fast then he should have, sitting on the edge of his bed.

draco.

i don’t know where you are, or if youre alive, if youre reading this now. i hope this doesn’t arrive at a bad time. but your 18 now, so happy birthday. if you are seeing this, i still love you. i think about you all the time. i hope you are okay, and safe. in case you don’t end up writing me back, i just thought I’d give you some random information to keep you company and away from your mind. i graduate tomorrow. i look at your picture everyday. I remember what you once told me about following my dreams, so instead of medicine, im going to study literature and business next year. im staying in kelowna aswell for now, hoping maybe you’ll be able to visit someday. im sure you’d like it. my favourite colour is still green. i don’t know what else to say.

always here to listen if you’d like to talk. yn.

was it actually his birthday? had it already been a month since the war? it felt like a year but the visions played over and over like it was yesterday. it took him awhile before it clicked. the war was over, Voldemort was dead and there was no one to stop him from seeing her. he completely disregarded the lightheaded feeling he got when he stood up to fast- and rushed to his wardrobe. it took him a bit longer than he thought to pack up all his clothes, including the thousands of letters he kept hidden in a large drawer. the trunk was a bit heavier than he may have thought, and he ended up needing to take a car, in fear that he may not be able to apparate successfully to the airport without injuring himself. he quickly found out that muggle travelling was harder than he thought, and security and customs were also apparently a thing that all people needed to get through.

he wrapped himself in his cloak and didn’t get a drop of sleep the whole plane ride. it was nighttime when they flew over montreal, and then toronto. the sun rose as they crossed through winnipeg, regina, and calgary. he didn’t know this himself ofcourse, but he aggressively hit the map on the screen in front of him, desperate to know where he was. he only got an hour of half decent sleep before he felt rattling of the plane landing, and he gripped tightly onto the arm rests. he struggled for half an hour before he even got sight of his luggage on the moving thing that went round and round. compared to London, kelownas airport was very small and easy to navigate. the air outside was hot, making draco feel even more self concious about his clothing choices.

y/n put her hair back into a twist with a clip taking a suprising amount of effort to make sure it looked okay. her makeup was natural looking, nothing crazy but she looked gorgeous none the less. she slipped into her black romper, some canadians didn’t wear their fancy dresses to convocation, only something simple to go with the cap and gown. she arrived at the ceremony, seeing everyone, with excited smiles and laughs, conversing amongst themselves. and every memory came rushing back. they sat in rows on a stage, listening to the heartfelt and extremely cheesy speech the staff made every single year. she’d never noticed how many kids were in her age group until they were being called up one by one.

‘alex can’

‘ruth lee’

and the list went on and on until finally

‘y/n l/n’ the moment had come, and she shook everyone’s hand, receiving her diploma and flipping her caps tassel to the left. ‘y/n is staying around next year, and attending the university of british columbia okanogan, good luck l/n’ her principal said and claps continued like they had and the rest of the list finished sooner, or seemed to go by faster, she wasn’t sure.

draco had never had to find a taxi by himself, but once he did he gave the driver the only place he knew, the address he saw on the top corner of her first response almost two years ago.

y/n pulled away from the school grounds, watching them disappear in her rear view mirror. it was hot with a breeze, but she smiled the whole way home. she’d done it, made it through every assignment and class, dealt with attention hungry bitches, and crappy teachers. the next door was truly opening. pulling up to her house, and closing her car door as she hopped out, she watched her feet carry her up to the house. turning the corner, she saw him, sitting there on her steps, a present wrapped horribly in his hands, looking very out of place in his black cloak. she stopped in her own steps and he hesitantly stood up, before she launched herself into his arms breathing in his cologne, finally together after all this time.

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter x y/n #cedric diggory x reader

332 notes · View notes

bonepranks · 3 years

Text

* DELTARUNE VERSE HEADCANONS

quick n’ dirty rundown of my deltarune verse as it currently stands, since i have a feeling i’ll be using it a lot more very soon :) these headcanons include my gaster at @voidhanded.

- GASTER CREATED THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, BOTH HOMETOWN AND THE DARK WORLD. in gaster’s time in the void, he learned how to create new timelines and worlds. he built the deltarune world like it was some sort of computer program and the people were advanced ai. only, they are real. his new creation got very much out of control of him – not that it’s a bad thing. through it, he learned very much about the involvement of the PLAYER on a world, and whether or not humans have true control over their SOULs and actions. in this world, he can actually make himself corporeal, if only for small periods of time. Occasionally he’ll pose as a librarian in order to actually communicate with his creations. ( this all ties in with his main undertale verse on @voidhanded, and is well established by the time the post-pacifist verse happens, as the information he gathers in this experiment is crucial to his understanding of RESETS and the PLAYER. )

- THE SANS AND PAPYRUS THAT EXIST IN HOMETOWN WERE NOT CREATED BY GASTER. for them, their existence in this world is a result of what i call an abandoned pacifist verse. in a pacifist ending that occurs after many different routes and countless resets ( many of which sans remembers ), sans accepts the futility of seeking a real ending or any sort of happiness. he does not believe that this is the end, and is afraid of what will happen if frisk resets again. he has never tried it before, and his method is purely theoretical, but he manages to take papyrus and escape the timeline. he leaves a seemingly peaceful and happy life on the surface, and ends up in the gaster’s computer simulated world. papyrus’ memories of their past life are jumbled, and sans is torn between relief that they seem to be safe now, and guilt for leaving everyone else behind without a word. he buys the grocery store and tries to find answers about why he ended up in this specific world that is so unlike the one he knows, and yet eerily familiar at the same time.

- UNTIL WE ARE TOLD OTHERWISE, PAPYRUS IS THE SAME AGE HE IS IN UNDERTALE. for me, that makes him 21 ( with sans being 29 ). i know that it’s sort of implied that he’s younger than that, but i don’t really want to deal with that so. yeah. he does need friends — they really haven’t been in town that long, and he simply hasn’t ventured out much — the timeline hopping made him ill and he’s still recovering, which is why he’s not running through the streets of hometown making friends by now.

- SANS IS DEEPLY UNSETTLED BY THIS WORLD, AND THE LONGER HE’S THERE, THE MORE HIS MEMORIES OF HIS OLD LIFE START TO FRACTURE. he’s desperate to find some answers before he forgets entirely.

- SO FAR, GASTER HAS NOT SHOWN HIMSELF TO THE BROTHERS. he is concerned, because he intentionally did not create new versions of them in this world, and yet he senses their presence. he does not know why or how they came to exist here.

- EVENTUALLY, PAPYRUS DOES FIND A WAY TO VISIT THE DARK WORLD. i don’t know how or when yet, but i want him to be able to go, so he does. very possibly, gaster secretly created another entrance for him that he finds.

#more later im sure #* so cool ! ⇢ HEADCANON / SANS #* so cool ! ⇢ HEADCANON / PAPYRUS #* so cool ! ⇢ HEADCANON / MISC #* so cool ! ⇢ OUT

8 notes · View notes

burning-clutch · 3 years

Text

Headstrong With Headstones

cross posted on a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30588233

-.-.-.-.-.-

Ghosts are always around to ruin Danny’s day. Nothing new there, but what came of it when the Red huntress tackled him and sent them both through the ghost catcher? Well, this was new...

Warnings: descriptions of death-like trama, injuries

Prompt by: EchoGhost

Valerie, as the Red Huntress, is chasing Phantom and they end up both accidentally flying through the Fenton Ghost Catcher together. This causes Danny to end up with the hunter suit and Valerie to end up with ghost powers. (Optional: When Val goes ghost she still looks exactly like Phantom.)

Whoo boy, this one was a ride! Fun to write though but boy! Did it get away from me! it’s a long one! Anyway, enjoy! Unbetaed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I am really hating these things!” Phantom called out as he flew about the area blasting another giant ant looking.

He had no idea where these things came from or why but suddenly Amity was overrun with ant and bug ghosts that were just… everywhere. They were large, as far as bugs go, that is, ranging from the size of a house cat to a large dog, and each seemed to be either possessing citizens or stealing food to bring back for their queen.

Why they needed physical food, Danny wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t about to let them stick around to let them accomplish their goal to find out. He looked over his shoulder as Sam and Tucker wrestled with a thirty something woman who was howling in rage tied up in a Fenton fishing line before they tossed her through the Ghost Catcher to separate out the ghost bug from the woman.

That done they blasted the ant ghost causing it to explode. “At least these things aren’t hard to destroy,” Tucker said, a disgusted look on his face. At least they had managed to get the catcher down here to the epicentre of the ant outbreak. Ant-break? Eh….

ng ghost. The ectoplasmic drone exploded into goo making Danny wince. “Ugh nasty... “ The halfa complained “At least we’re finally getting through them... “ Sam sighed in agreement. Though she would rather they catch the ghosts overblowing them up into goo she couldn’t deny the effectiveness. It was faster and more efficient to do rather than catch them in the thermoses and given they were only ecto constructs she couldn’t feel too bad about the whole thing. They just really needed to find the queen ant ghost sooner rather than later given that these things would never stop coming otherwise.

“Come on Tuck there's more down here! I just saw, like, eight go down the alley,” Sam said to her current partner in ghost busting. Tucker groaned but readied his lipstick blaster nonetheless and followed closely behind the dark haired girl.

Phantom watched them go before turning his attention back to the task at hand shooting through a random old man to pull out a ghost and explode that removed one as well as a larger one sneaking up on him all with the same large ecto blast.

A call of triumph was soon changed into a call of pain as Phantom was suddenly shot in the back. "I don't know how you're involved in this but I know you are, ghost!" Came an all too familiar and rather unwelcome voice from behind the halfa.

"Can we not right now Red?" Phantom complained. That shot between his shoulder blades had hurt! And he had really hoped that one of the ant ghosts had just been stronger than the others. Wishful thinking…

"Don't wanna hear your 'hero' spiel, ghost! Once I take care of you these bugs will be gone!" The Red Huntress spat back angrily.

"Me being here, and those bugs are not connected!" Phantom called back in exasperation just barely dodging a blast from the hunter.

"Stay still and let me end you ghost!"

"Tempting offer but, no. Gonna have to pass on that." Phantom called, aiming a shot and knocking the gun from Red's hands before trying to flee from her all the while still trying to round up the ghost bugs he came across.

It didn't exactly bode well with Valerie. The huntress dove after her gun, catching it before it smashed to the ground below, and tearing after the monochromatic ghost. “Get back here you ectoplasmic skum!” She yowled punching the gas so to speak, as she tried to gain headway against Phantom’s much more agile form.

“Oh! Good one! Haven’t heard that one every day of my afterlife! You need new insults!” He taunted blasting an ant ghost before slipping underground hoping to shake the huntress.

Red growled and brought up the information she’d need to track the menace in her visor eager to try and pinpoint where that jerk would be coming out. Thankfully her instruments didn’t fail her and she was able to see where he was, and got into position to head him off at the pass.

When Phantom did reemerge he did so invisibly not that it made a difference to the hunter, her visor showing where he was rather accurately. She fired, landing the hit on Phantom forcing him to drop his invisibility and jump back into the normal visible spectrum.

The ghost blinked at her stupidly a moment before asking, “New upgrades?”

“Yes, All the better to take revenge on you!”

“You’re still on about that?! You know I’m the ghost in this relationship, right? I’m supposed to be the one with the obsession?” He called only to let out a yelp and dodge down out of the way of the incoming missiles barely a second later.

“The only relationship we have is hunter and prey!” Red called out in rage making Phantom grimace.

The ghost turned to shoot any of the tracking missiles that were still coming at him before telling the girl, “You know you sound like Skulker right?! Like ew!”

“Shut up! You have no idea what this is like!”

“I was alive once ya know” Phantom argued back dodging another volley of shots and ducking down weaving under a billboard. “If anything you’re the one who doesn’t understand! Not to mention the anger issues!”

“I’ll show you anger issues!” Red quipped back yelping as her gun was shot out of her hand and exploded into bits from a follow up shot from Phantom. She was nearly out of ammo for that one anyway…

Still, she gave pursuit, even if she was ill prepared, given how fast she booked it out and after that stupid spectre when he appeared on her radar she was a little light, not that it mattered. Still, she hated to admit but she was well aware that if these bug things were Phantom’s he wouldn’t just be destroying them… it didn’t fit his MO.

Then again this was a ghost they were looking at as if they had any rational thought or feelings whatsoever! She could almost laugh at the thought. A ghost with actual feelings. HA! No matter though this time, this time she’d have him… he was weak after fighting all those other ghosts after all those minor literal bugs that needed to be squashed. She would take care of Phantom first then finish the mess he undoubtedly created.

Red let out a growl of frustration as her shots went wide, her anger causing her to miss, she knew it was that but she found herself seeing, well, red. She yelped at the burn her hand and arm sustained as Phantom blasted at her gun again, sort of missing his target and causing the weapon to explode in her hand. Of course, that only served to make her madder.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

While Phantom was gloating about his shot or some other such thing, no that sorry was sarcastic! How could it be anything else from a ghost?! She shot forward at top speed, the motor in her board whirring and whining in dismay as she punished it for all it had, slamming into Phantom and more or less tackling him with her board.

He yelped in surprise and she activated the stinger prod on the end of the board giving the stupid ghost a good amount of electricity.

Phantom screeched something fierce, a horrid sound that she had never heard before and his eyes widened in fear. GOOD! He finally knew to fear her! She shocked him again still moving forward to keep him on the end of her board.

In her delirium of finally getting something in on that stupid ghost she wasn’t exactly looking where she was steering, and well, to say she was shocked when she had passed through the Ghost catcher would be an understatement.

Pain, that’s all her mind knew, and that’s all Phantom’s knew as well as the ghostly energies and anti-energies hit the semi permeable film of the catcher. Valerie screeched, her own pitch seeming to match Phantom’s as they passed through.

She hears herself grunt, but it didn’t come from her own throat.

She felt herself groaning, but it sounded much too deep…

"What?" She heard her voice ask. "I- o-oh wait… Valerie!?"

The Huntress in question opened her eyes and blinked a few times staring at her own visor, and it took her a few seconds to realize what exactly she was looking at. Frantically she stands up or at least tries to, given she floated upwards towards the sky. Her robotic suit is now replaced with a black and white skin tight suit.

Phantom on the other hand had instantly felt heavy and hot. But when he saw a semi red tinted version of his own glowing green eyes staring back at him, the sparking ghost catcher in the background…

Well, his first thought was he separated from himself... but he still felt like himself and thought as he normally would… but then... hearing Valerie's voice come out of his own throat?

"Well shit" Danny managed to say smartly

Valerie screamed realizing she was looking at herself, her body, still in her Huntress suit. She waved her arms as she yelled obscenities, joining in Phantom’s own frantic flailing as the ghost boy tried to calm her down.

" Phantom what did you do? How dare you take over my body! Why am I stuck in your gross floaty one?!” The huntress turned ghost screeched.

“You think I planned this? I don’t wanna be a girl! This is your fault you’re the one who threw us through the catcher! You should know by now that m- The Fenton’s inventions do some whack stuff!” Danny argued hauling himself up to his feet properly and flailing his arms in circles to keep balance. He was both not used to being (fully) human as well as having a different centre of gravity, not to mention the suit covering his new form.

This wasn’t like possession at all. With that, it was like wearing a tight suit. It wasn’t too terrible overall but at the same time you instinctively knew how to move within one, this was a whole new experience, like being given stilts and set onto a tightrope and told to cross the canyon, all with an additional fifty pounds strapped to you.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how mad I am at this!” Valerie said as she grabbed onto a crack in the concrete to keep herself from floating away before face planting into the gravel and grunting. Phantom couldn’t help but smirk behind the visor despite himself. “Are you? Because the way I see it you’re the ghost, your anger isn’t real, your feelings are just remnants of what you remember anger to be.” He shot her condescending look that was hidden behind the helmet, but oh! It felt good to throw that back at her.

“What!? No! That is not how this works, ghost!” Valerie screeched out, reaching a rather impressive octave with his vocal cords.

“Actually it completely is. I’m not possessing you, otherwise, my “body”-” He held up his fingers to do the air quotes here “-wouldn’t still be here, and it definitely wouldn’t do this when I overshadow someone.”

“Why you!”

“Hey chill all we gotta do is go back through the-” Danny’s voice dropped off into silence as he stared up at the ghost catcher with a deepening frown. The center where the ethereal ‘thread’ of the catcher was had broken leaving a fancy looking bubble ring at best and a really bad eye of Sauron at worst.

“Okay, New plan we get that fixed and then we can get this whole thing straightened around,'' Phantom said with a firm nod to himself after flailing his hands back and forth to himself and… himself… oh his head was going to hurt.

Valerie yelped as her feet started to sink through the concrete, causing Phantom to snort. “Not so easy is it?” He retorted smugly doing his best impression of a bitchy prep, now that he had the vocal cords for it. Though when he realized that the slow descent into the concrete wasn’t stopping making the asphalt look more like quicksand than anything, Danny rushed forward to grab the ghostly upper arm.

He was glad for once that this suit had anti phase capabilities. Valerie on the other hand had a gambit of emotions cross her face. Confusion and fear were being the most prominent as well as anger.

And how could she not! That ghost had her body, and while he had made the mention of her emotions not being ‘real’ she knew that it was because her brain and whatever her consciousness was made up of was over here in Phantom. He was still the same evil conniving ghost as always and she wasn’t sure how he had planned this, but she just knew that this was a plot of some kind to make her life even more of a hell for her.

Still, phasing through things she could do without. “You have to focus on staying solid as your body, er my body I guess, will naturally want to turn intangible. The same thing with flight, you have to will yourself to stay on the ground, your default is to float so if you want to stay in one spot you have to will yourself there…. It- It’s like have you ever had a lucid dream?”

Valerie blinked at the ghost, her? … at the words before they actually registered. Why would he bother trying to help her? Wouldn't it be easier to have her crippled under a new body and new powers and all the confusion that surrounds it?

“What?” She said after a moment of thought. He had to be tricking her somehow with this right? There’s no way… “As if I’d trust anything you have to say.”

“What?! Don’t be stupid that is my body! I spent long enough accidentally phasing through stuff that I learned how to will myself to work!” Phantom argued indignantly.

"Fine" she snapped out, relenting slightly, but only just. She figured that if, and that's an IF the size of a planet… if he really didn't somehow plan this She supposed it wouldn't hurt to try what he was saying. After all, if she didn't play nice, why knows what crimes he'll commit while inhabiting her body.

Valerie shuddered as a good number of thoughts entered her head about what Phantom could potentially do with her body. Make her look like a fool, ruin her reputation! … What could she do in Phantoms? How was this real? How did that… whatever of the Fentons make this happen? Thinking about this too much would undoubtedly make her head hurt.

Right focus, keep yourself solid. “It’s harder than it looks, you know. Like I said when I had that whole thing with Cujo I couldn’t control myself entirely and controlling him too, well….” Phantom piped up earning a glare from the huntress.

“Shut up!” Valerie roared earning a blast of sound from her jaws as she had the bar start of a ghostly wail.

Phantom squawked and covered his ears, thankful the helmet was still on given it blocked out a good amount of the sound. “Easy your emotions make you- my powers go haywire!”

“Valerie’s eyes widened as she stared at the small trail of destruction she had caused. It… it was that easy to flip over three cars and punch a hole in a building?! And phantom… Phantom held this kind of raw power? Well, now she did... This pure, unrestrained power that was so hard to control and if she focused she could feel it just below the surface in her chest, running outward and under her skin like an electric current, writhing through her veins like caterpillars.

She was disgusted by it… she was thrilled by it… she was genuinely afraid of it…

“Y-You can just…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to say what she had done, what she had just seen, or acknowledge what she was still seeing… that trail of rubble there, she didn’t want to talk about it… as about it, but she had to… and yet, she didn’t want it to be made real by her accepting it...

“Like I said it takes a while to learn control.” Phantom offered simply.

“Stay right where you are spook!” Jack Fenton’s voice was suddenly echoing down the street causing Danny to instinctively throw up his hands before giving an “Oh wait.” and looking to Val with a mix of emotions on his face.

“He’s talking to you” Phantom taunted knowingly. At least Jack was a bit of a ways off, though closing in fast… They had at least a minute for him to get into firing range.

“What no! You’re the ghost!”

“Not from where I’m standing.” Phantom shot back hotly, and he was right… technically… And Valerie really hated that he was right! “We gotta get you, me, US We gotta get outta here!” Phantom stammered out, grabbing the ghost’s arm before bolting down the nearest alleyway. Danny shoved Valerie in his body back deeper into the dark of the alley wincing as he realized she may need to transform. Then again… “How do I use your board?” Phantom half asked half yelled out at the huntress, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look into her own panicked eyes.

“Why should I tell you?!” She spat back indignantly. Thankfully, or rather unluckily depending on how you look at it, an ectoblast shot their way clipping an overhead fire escape and pinging off the metal. Phantom simply threw his arm up towards the scorch mark with a huff of his own. “You wanna feel what those are like?” He says eyes narrowing the visors glow seemed to enhance the effect.

“Ugh fine,” Though it was meant to sound like reluctant compliance, the hitch in the tone gave her worry away. “Just jump into the air and call it up like mentally.”

He huffed and jumped up, only to land back down a second later with a frown. Again he tried going higher in his jump and clicking his heels together, this time it spawned the board but he simply hovered there on it. “And to fly?” Phantom asked ducking out of pure instinct as another ecto shot flew their way.

“Like surfing, or skateboarding Lean the way you want to go, put the pressure on your front foot for up and back for down.” Came the semi-rushed answer. Phantom nodded, grabbed Valerie and shot up like a rocket. The ghost let out a yelp and ended up overcompensating, sending them into a barrel roll as they climbed up into the clouds. By the time he managed to regain control he felt like he was going to barf, but Valerie only looked mildly annoyed. “Electromagnetic boots?” He asked wobbling a bit as he tried to haul his counterpart onto the board.

“Yep,” Came the answer as Valerie settled on the edge of the board with a defeated sigh.

“Just so you know I’m still blaming you for this. The only reason I’m playing nice with you right now is because I know if I don’t you’ll mess up something in my body or my suit.” Valerie hissed after a moment’s silence.

“Right ‘cuz I was totally the one who tackled us through that catcher.” Came the bitter retort. “I wish just once you would listen to me! Those ants are not my fault!”

“Then why bother trying to do anything about it?! Ghosts only want to manipulate people and I know if you’re not responsible for this mess then you’re making hay in the sunshine and taking advantage so that you can force people to view you as a hero,” She spat out making a scrunched face that very much did not belong on Phantom’s features.

“What? No! If I could do that don’t you think I would have?”

“Maybe you’re just not strong enough yet, need more believers or something.”

“You saw what ‘power’ I actually have Valerie, hell you used some of it! And by accident!”

“Well,” She sputtered shifting uncomfortably unable to deny what she had seen, done… what she could still sort of make out from here.

“And what was with the electricity earlier? That is beyond cruel you know! Keeping that up as long as you did!” Phantom raged the cybernetics seeming to respond in kind, a small laser popping out of his shoulder which the former halfa growled at and physically pushed back down to get it to go away.

“You’re a ghost! You don’t feel pain in the same way humans do.” Valery shot back reciting the rote excuse he had heard far too often.

Phantom saw red, and not just because of the visor he was currently forced to wear. So he did the only thing that his brain could think of. He slapped himself in the face. “OW! What the hell Phant-?!”

“Oh shut up! The pain’s all in your head! It’s not real! You’re just imagining it! You’re simply an imprint of who you once were, you’re not a person anymore, and feelings aren’t real because you're not human!” Phantom ranted and raved. When he was done he found himself panting heavily the excursion much more mental but ANCIENTS did it feel good to finally do that and scream and not take out a city block.

“Do you remember your time as Valerie Grey?” he asked after a few moments of getting his breathing in check.

“W-What? Are you stupid of course I do!” Valerie responded instantly, creeped out that the ghost knew her full name and identity but given the display of raw anger she had just witnessed she smartly decided to not bother to hedge that issue just yet. “We only just had this mess happen…” She offered up not fully sure what more to say.

“So you can say you died at that moment, well congrats, you’re no longer the person you once were, you’re not Valerie any longer, you are an imprint of what that person was and your memories of being human mean nothing.” Phantom hissed out lowly. This time he wasn’t shouting, but his tone was the purest sour thing she had ever heard come out of any single person.

“Well, I’m you.” She stated dumbly. Even though she was looking at herself and it was sort of an uncanny valley sort of thing to be looking at she still saw Phantom, raw feral and angry… The fact that she was technically the more powerful of them right now didn’t even register.

“That doesn’t matter, you’re not me you’re a ghost. It doesn’t matter who you were before you’re a ghost now and that’s all they’ll ever see.” He was shaking in barely constrained anger now. Valerie at least had the wherewithal to know that if positions were reversed and she was feeling the fury that the other was putting out, she would have come at the subject of her ire guns blazing...

Valerie opened her mouth and closed it a few times realizing something. She could literally feel the rage and sadness flowing out of the ghost controlling her body. She wanted to believe it was simply that the ghost was in HER body that the emotions were prevalent, but they were far too strong to be imitations…

She knew why she could feel, could taste, the emotions coming out of the other, and how it seemed to give a small boost of energy. It was sort of like eating something really sugary, the small jolt she got with it wouldn’t last long and she knew it instinctively, but the fact it gave a boost at all… Ghosts couldn’t feed on other ghost’s emotions… it’s one of the reasons they attacked humans after all…

She wanted to retort to the spectre snap at him like she always would but she couldn’t find it in herself… she simply felt… deflated... And it wasn’t just because her arm had all but disappeared into a wisp of smoke either…

She swallowed thickly letting the stupid ghost arm do whatever it wanted (why did she have to control these body parts) and took in a deep sigh. “You said the shock was cruel… Why?” She wondered after a moment.

Phantom had somehow managed to figure out how to open and disappear the helmet while Valerie was staring down at her, his, gloved hands, so it was a shock to see the whirlwind of storm clouds behind her own eyes. Phantom was always expressive, but it seemed to hit her harder seeing it on her own face… it looked far too real, too convincing in her own dark eyes.

“Take off the glove, the right one.” He says simply, almost too softly for her to hear.

It confused her, she hadn’t thought a ghost’s clothing could be removed… but, she did. There was little she would have thought to have seen under the glove but this? This wasn’t anything she was prepared for.

The fingers on the hand were deathly pale, but with a green underlay that was especially noticeable in the fingernails. Not a surprise really there… but just before the third knuckles the back of the hand started to deepen looking almost like something you’d find on an eighty year old, or a bit of dried wood one would toss in a fire, before fading back out and becoming the tanned green colour at the wrist that Phantom sported on his face.

Litchendburg scars were obvious and prevalent along the back of the hand, worsening into an almost perfect circle on his palm, about the size of a quarter and indented just a little bit. Now that she was looking at it, it was like his hand was burned clean through on the palm…. And those lightning bolt shaped scars, well, she knew what that meant.

“Death marks,” Phantom says simply almost reading her mind as she stared at the palm. “It’s exactly what you think it was and the scars snake around my arm all the way to my chest…. Kinda figure the whole thing exploded my heart and that’s what actually killed me...”

“And… You remember it?” Valerie asked, eyes widening in realization. Somehow talking to the ghost boy like this with his words coming out of her mouth… it seemed to make this all the more validating to her like she was finally hearing him for the first time… She probably was, now that she’d thought about it…

“Yeah, I remember a lot of my life… not everything mind you but it’s like remembering a dream you had the morning after…” Phantom says softly. That much was true, despite his halfa status, everything from before he became a half ghost was kind of hazy at best and shrouded in a dream like fog at worst. There were some memories he had that if he didn’t see photo evidence for it, he would have chalked it up to a kind of lucid dream…

“Oh,” Valerie said. What could she say to that? “And the ghost powers..? They weren’t innate and instinctual like the Fenton’s say were they?”

“No, it has been a trial by fire since the first day I died…” Phantom responded solemnly

She felt like dirt, and she glared at her whispering body before scrunching up her face and willing herself solid. She couldn’t control what her body was doing, she had no idea how to work any of… this! How many times had Phantom told her it was an accident and she refused to believe him?!

It was only now was she seeing the ghost she had been actively and relentlessly hunting as simply a teen who got thrown in too deep too fast over his head and was trying to make the most of it. Though there was one thing she didn’t quite understand, and she had wondered about it since she had first laid eyes on the odd monochromatic ghost.

“Why do you attack other ghosts at all?” She asked simply giving into her wondering.

“Because I wanna protect the people I left behind…” He answered earnestly

Valerie thought about that, he had said it before sure, but somehow it felt different this time he’d said it. Maybe she was overthinking it now? Or this was the first time she had given it any thought at all?

She stared down at her, at Phantom’s ungloved hand with a frown. Maybe he wanted to protect people to save people because no one came to save him? Almost sounded like too noble a thought to be wasted on some dumb ghost…

She shook her head wanting to end that train and derail it before it even left the station. She knew damn well it was her own anger and brashness that got her into this whole freaky Friday thing, but she would never admit to it aloud...

“How do we fix this?” She asked after a few more beats of listening to the soft whirring of the hoverboard beneath her.

“The Fenton Catcher got us into this, the Fenton Catcher can get us out,” Danny said simply. “IT’s like I was saying earlier. The electricity you were hitting me with overloaded the catcher and made it go haywire but luckily there is a reverse side to the thing, we just gotta hope the Fentons either fix the one that got fried or we hope they have a spare.” Phantom replied candidly. With a hum, the ghost boy tapped a finger on his, her lip.

The action was so normal yet so bewildering to her as she watched herself perform it. It was clearly something unconscious he did, given the thousand yard stare he had going on there… Phantom makes her go crosseyed and she couldn’t help but snort.

Danny knew full well there was a duplicate, well, sort of, of The Catcher in the lab, but the problem was he didn’t know where exactly it was. Secondly, he needed to be sure if it was worth the risk to try and use the catcher 1.0 when it was the updated version that they had been messed up by... The one they also destroyed.

Well… today seemed to be a sharing and show and tell kind of day so, “Valerie, there's an inside pocket on that suit, the zipper is under the collar since you probably can’t phase through yourself with any sort of control… Um, in that pocket there's a cell phone. Can you grab it and hand it to me?”

“You have a cell phone?” She asked her, his, nose crinkling up giving a look that clearly thought he was a stalker or something.

“Yes, a friend got it for me…. And before you say anything... Yes, I have friends, NO they are not evil… mostly, and the cellphone is paid for by them.” Phantom preemptively rattled off holding out his hand expectantly.

Valerie grunted in acknowledgement before fumbling about under the collar of the suit and finding the zipper. “What kind of ghost needs a zipper?”

“Don’t judge, I didn’t get to choose what I died in, you know.” Phantom huffed out impatiently.

Valerie blinked and grimaced, sort of feeling bad about the complaint now, though it was instantly rectified by Phantom’s next comment. “Hey lighten up, just gotta laugh at my grave sense of humour.”

“I will smack you… ugh, I can’t believe I’m undressing a ghost… Here’s your damn phone.” Valerie grumbled pointedly averting her eyes away from the ghost’s bare chest, acting as though she didn’t want to see anything she shouldn’t, in reality, she just didn’t want to see any more scarring and see it as though they were on her body. As it was she’ll be surprised enough if she doesn’t have nightmares.

She was already imagining herself being in Phantom’s spot, burning as you’re being electrocuted. Feeling your heart sputter and stop before being reborn as a ghost confused and lost still remembering everything and knowing you’ve died? She shuddered, and could only hope she would never become a ghost. Having that loom over you every time you saw your reflection didn’t sound like fun at all...

Phantom takes his phone, a flip phone that thankfully, was only ever used for his Phantom needs, and only contained three contacts, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker. Sam paid the bill for him and was a good fail safe if his parents ever punished his human half by taking away his electronics or if he ever had to leave in a hurry he had a secured line that shouldn’t be tied to him really in any way.

And right now it would work to make sure Valerie doesn’t see a phone was the same as Fenton’s. He flipped open the device, the clamshell was indestructible (mostly) and cheap! By Sam’s standards anyhow, fifty bucks may be nothing to her on her allowance but Danny would have to save up a month to get there. HE shook his head from his musings to focus on the task at hand, sending out a message to the group text asking his friends to either convince his parents to fix the ghost catcher or to retrieve the 1.0 version and set it up somewhere for him to try and fix a problem. He left it vague, apart from telling them he wasn’t exactly himself at the moment, which prompted an instant slew of worried texts from the three people in the chat chain but, well, he could deal with that later, he wrangled the ’ghostkateers’ back in and set them on their way. He just had to hope that he could get through this with his alternative identity intact.

“What was all that about?” Valerie asked suspiciously.

Ah, there it was… “I have contact with the Fenton kids… They help me get some of their parents stuff when I need it…. Didn’t you wonder why that Fenton Ghost Catcher was even in the middle of town in the first place?” Phantom said with a raised brow.

Valerie blinked in thought. She honestly hadn’t put that much thought into it. The Fenton adults had said that Phantom stole their stuff all the time and she’d simply left it at that. Why would she have wasted brain power on it? Though the more she thought about it the more she frowned.

Phantom was a ghost so just how had he been stealing things from the ghost hunters when they clearly had made and marketed things that stop and keep out ghosts? Phantom needed someone who could actually grab the stuff he needed, to get through the shields… someone(s) who were on the inside, and given how Danny would sometimes meekly defend Phantom, or how Jazz would sometimes ‘trip up’ her parents when they were going after Phantom, well…

Yeah, she really was blinded by her own rage and prejudices… Star was right on that, she supposed… too pinpointed on the small things that were pissing her off the most to focus on the bigger picture going on around her…

She shook her head before burying it in her hands. Ugh, stupid ghost making her question herself.

Phantom sighed and handed the phone back to her instructing her to tuck it away again. Curious she flipped it open and stared at the passcode ask that popped up. She didn’t even think flip phones had passcodes but whatever. She tried to make it look like she was playing with the phone flipping it and closing it, rather than actually trying to snoop… though the scoff from Phantom told her the ruse was pointless. She sighed and put the phone back where she found it.

Phantom had started grumbling about something under his breath earning a look of confusion from Valerie, though it didn’t take long for her to see what it was he was upset about, as he was trying to get the board to go. Valerie knew she should probably help him but at the same time, she was all too content to simply sit here and sulk.

It was a scream from somewhere below that snapped her from her spiralling thoughts of self depreciation. She instantly noticed two things; firstly how low her glow had become around her arms when she found a particular interest in the stitching in the gloves Phantom wore… and secondly, the scream was almost like a beacon to her, calling her out of her thoughts and making her want to go.

She felt anxious and antsy all of a sudden like she had to go somewhere, but couldn't. Like when one has to pee really bad but it's during a test, that split if need to go need to stay...she didn't know how to get Phantom's flight to work for her, but she wanted to figure out what the screaming was about…

Her legs jostle and bounce as she tries to quell the nervous energy she feels building. Why was she suddenly feeling this way? She steals a glance at Phantom, snorting when she sees him trying to unstick himself from the board but another scream for help pulls her attention back to the ground below.

She could taste the frustration from Phantom and given his growls towards the board he was standing on it was obvious where that was from, but it sort of irked her that he had no urgency about him. Couldn't he hear the screams why weren't they helping!? She had to help! She knew she could so she should! She HAD to even if she didn't know how to help she HAD to… she was compelled to.

"What are you doing? There are people who need help!" She spat feeling her agitation and anxiety rise. Phantom looked to her dumbly before looking down to the ground and noticing the chaos. “Huh…” He said simply eyes lazily roaming the crowd.

“What do you mean ‘huh?’ This is serious!” Valerie didn’t know why but she felt so much like a caged cat right now wanting to get at some prey that was just beyond her reach. She was almost positive that if she could she would be pacing back and forth on that board.

Phantom watched her twitching, her glow brightening and dimming and her anxiousness that made her look like she was getting ready to jump off this board, damned be the consequences, and he slowly felt a smirk form on his face much to the agitation of the huntress currently in his body. “It’s interesting, I mean… I’m watching this and well, I’m doing what you’re doing… it’s almost a relief” He chuckled dryly. “Jeez, guess I’m really not as much of a hero as I thought I was…” He says almost sadly before running a hand through his, her, hair.

“Phantom now is not the time to be cryptic! There are people down there who need …. Help…” Her anger suddenly ebbed away as she realized just what Phantom was getting at. How many times had the ghost told her that he just wanted to help? He always had a desperate insanity to his voice when he was tied down by her or some other ghost and he frantically would do anything he could to get out there to HELP.

“That’s your obsession, isn’t it... “ She clutched at Phantom’s jumpsuit over the ache in her chest where she could feel the ghostly core vibrating violently demanding retribution. It physically hurt, made her want to throw up and she knew the only thing to stop that feeling was to help.

Perhaps that’s why he was always involved, it was exactly the reason he said it was... He literally had no choice but to help when he saw something he could do… Was that why he was often seen helping out with inane tasks? Carrying things for people rescuing people… hell even rescuing a balloon from a tree for a little kid… He was literally trapped in an endless cycle.

Perhaps her earlier ideas of Phantom wanting to help because he didn’t get help when he needed it most wasn’t so far off. But feeling this now, in his body… it was awful to think that if she had gotten herself killed while chasing Phantom or some other ghost, she would be trapped in a similar cycle, but be even less noble… not to say Phantom was noble but that her ‘quest’ was rather unnoble.

“Yeah… guess it is…” Phantom answered sourly as he stared down at the chaos. He wanted to be a hero, he thought he was, he was helping people, saving people, after all right? Though thinking about this revelation…? It seemed to sour the point of him being a hero. If he wasn’t making the choice to help and to save people but being forced to do it… Was he really a hero?

His shoulders slumped as he watched the ghosts attack below. Even still now, he could make the choice right? He may not have his usual repertoire of powers he was used to but Red still had her suit, the suit he was currently occupying.

And looking to the huntress in his body he couldn't help but smirk. At least she would finally be more focused on saving people than shooting him. "Like a skateboard ya said right?" He asked, suddenly earning a bewildered look from the huntress.

She caught on quickly though, the small smirk appeared on her lips though it looked more conniving on Danny's face. "Yeah, and you think about the guns you want to will them out of the cybernetics." She added.

"For Ectoblasts, do you feel that cold spot in your chest, my chest?" At her nod, he continues. "Force that out and down your arm, gather it in your palm and let it go." He explained eyes narrowing.

Valerie caught on and nodded. "I'll take the left side you take right?" She asked eagerly, wanting to help the people below, not caring that she would be working with Phantom to get it done.

He was making a choice this time. Even if it wasn't him who would be hailed as the hero, given his current attire and whatnot but he wasn't being forced to make this decision. That had to count for something right?

He grunted as he fumbled around his head trying to put the helmet back up over his head. It takes him a few moments but he was able to get it eventually. He gives a nod and after a few experimental wiggles, he manages to get the hoverboard to sputter forward. He manages to move a little smoother by the time he gets closer to the ground willing out a blaster, he was hoping for something with a little more oomph but well, a wrist blaster worked too he supposed. He sees an ant ghost and fires, following up with more and more taking care of all in his sightlines. He gives a small "sorry!" As he almost knocks someone over but otherwise he seemed to be getting somewhere.

Valerie on the other hand had stood up into a sort of half crouch and was frantically waving her arm around trying to build the power in her blast hoping she could manage at least one shot. With a growl, she manages to get her hand to glow a bit green, which was progress, but not enough to create an effective attack. She shook her hand again, smacking her wrist a bit as though it were a buggy flashlight, before she was able to send out something a little more decent.

“Heh got ya!” She called out grinning at her mitt of ectoplasm, She may have only burned a hole through a street sign but hey, she got a hit on something so she was still going to count it as a win. “Over here!” Danny perked up hearing Jazz call pointing to the ghost catcher 1.0. Suppose it was better than nothing. He hoped it would do to only have themselves go through the catcher again and not have to recreate the whole process because, ow. The ghost turned huntress pitched a bit sharply earning a growling reprimand from Valerie, though it was quickly rectified by him blasting an ant ghost that was getting ready to jump at them.

It let out a horrid caterwauling noise, something that made their ears ring from the sound, “Ugh that’s worse than your screaming.” Phantom commented wincing a bit behind the visor, sighing in relief when the noise went silent.

“Ugh, really?” Valerie shot back though she could just make out the playful smirk that was showing on his face. Valerie opened her mouth to retort only to yelp as they pitched a hard right turn and went skyward. She didn’t need to ask why as the large queen ant ghost emerged from the ground.

The thing was as tall as a small building and as long as a transport truck. And the thing let out a wail that sounded like a mix of a lion and a hog squealing. “Well… That’s bigger than I thought it would be... “ Phantom said with a frown. “I don’t know if I can beat this thing in your body… We gotta get to that catcher!” He called.

The ant queen let out another roar and sent a bit of... Acidic goo... Vomit... stuff towards them. Valerie didn’t want to think too hard on it. Honestly, it looked like ecto snot but came out of what she hoped was the and queens mouth… “Ugh nasty.” She complained watching as the wad of snot sailed over them and into a building, melting it a bit.

“Yeah, let’s not get hit by that…” Phantom agreed, watching the brick melt away. “I need shields and you need to get your guns back.” He said scanning the ground around the queen to search for where the Catcher had landed.

“There!” Valerie seemed to catch on to what he was looking for and pointed it out spotting it first. At least they were in agreement on the fact they needed to swap back sooner rather than later.

Phantom leaned forward urging the board on towards the catcher hoping they would manage it in one swoop. Alas, it was not to be as the queen jumped into the air up at them, let out a roar before massive wings sprouted from her back smacking Danny and Valerie off the board, the electromagnetic functions in the huntresses suit doing nothing against the force of that hit.

They plummet downwards and Phantom tries to call out to the board but it doesn’t come for him. “Valerie fly!” He tries desperately, staring down to the fastly approaching ground. “Will yourself to fly!”

Valerie gasped out herself grunting as Danny flailed her body about before managing to cling to her. “I’m trying!” She shoots back angrily. She lets out a whine and closes her eyes in concentration before the glow around the ghostly body flares and they level out and tip upwards, earning a whoop of delight from Phantom.

“Head for the Catcher!” Phantom tells her.

“Again I’m trying you ectoplasmic pice of-”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as they, by some miracle, had managed to head straight through the catcher. The pairs’ screams mix together and they end up on a heap on the other side with Jazz blinking down at them. “Did it work?” The ginger teen asked.

“Ow... Jazz?” Danny grumbled out. He raised a hand to his head to rub at his forehead and gave a pained whooped when he was able to see the glowing glove at the end of his limb. He offers a half hearted smile up to his sister before glaring at the queen who was being distracted by Sam and Tucker from wherever they had found cover in the nearby broken buildings.

“I got better at aiming I guess?” Jazz offered to give a hand to help up her half ghost brother. “I moved the Catcher to um, Catch you. I’m glad you didn’t smash into the metal siding, that would have hurt…”

“Thanks, Jazz I owe ya one,” Phantom says with a nod. “Get anyone who’s not protected out of here!” And with that Phantom flew off to attack the Queen ant.

Valerie was quick to pick herself back up and tar off after Phantom. “This is a temporary truce I hope you know!” She calls as she catches her board and flies off after the ghost, though even as she said it lacked her usual vitreal.

Thankfully once they were back in their own skin they made short work of the queen ant ghost, and even managed to not cause too much more property damage.

As Danny caps the thermos, he side eyes the Red huntress next to him in the air and offers the teen a hesitant hand. “I’m not gonna ask you to forgive me again but… maybe hesitant colleagues?”

Red eyed the ghost before her, his hesitant but hopeful smile that didn’t quite hide the worry and fear behind his eyes struck her more than anything. She used to think he was simply good at mimicking emotions but now… having felt them being him, herself? Well… she supposed the saying is true that you really can’t understand someone until you walk a mile in their shoes. His emotions felt real, on both sides she could taste the ones he was putting through her body, She felt pain when she was slapped by him… And she was finally able to see him as just another teen that was in over his head…. Dog ruining her life or not, though looking back on it now she had to admit it was something she was thankful for in a way.

She would see Paulina and her A list brainless wonders and know she used to be one of them. Caring too much about the wrong things and ruled by money in a way… Now? She knew she had to work to get anywhere, people liked her for her, not just her status and well… She had a purpose she could be proud of now.

“Yeah, Colleagues sounds like a good start… But step even a toe outta line and I will smear your ectoplasmic innards all over town.” Valerie threatened though she was teasing Phantom still grimaced as she grasped his hand. “Eh, I think I’ll take that…” he replied somewhat nervously.

“Good. Also… Maybe since you have one, I should give you my cell number… Case you ever need more than just some inventions as a backup.”

Phantom visibly brightened at that his glow got brighter and he grinned. “Yeah, that’d be perfect actually! Maybe we can trade off patrol routes and stuff too? Give each other a night off once in a while? I know you work so… ya know…?”

Valerie snorted but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She looks around before pulling a random piece of paper from off of the ground and using some piece of charcoal from who knows what that exploded she managed to scribble down her number.

Phantom bit his tongue as he almost told her he had her number already, or that if he needed it he could easily get it with Tucker’s help but that wouldn’t do him any good now. He made it this far without blowing his secret, he wasn’t about to blow it on something stupid like this!

Though it did make him wonder why Valerie hadn’t changed back to Fanton at all accidentally. He sure as hell did constantly when he first started out, it was a nightmare and resulted in far more detentions than he would have liked… Well, maybe she just didn’t think it was a possibility? He didn’t want to think too hard on that right now honestly, it brought with it too many questions.

He took the paper from the huntress when she offered it and nodded to her in thanks. “See ya around ghost brat.” She said, almost endearingly before speeding off, no doubt to sleep.

Phantom watches her go a moment before heading off on his own way back towards where his friends were waiting for him. Oh they had angry looks didn’t they, fun…

He had a hell of an experience to tell, and some things he wanted to get advice on… he hated being the embodiment of an existential crisis all the time, but hey, at least it was interesting right?

He just hoped Val keeps her new attitude. He’d rather work with her than have to dodge her blasts all the time after all…. And a few nights off here and there sounded wonderful.

Only time will tell, he supposed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.- Complete

Total word count: 8875

#phic phight 2021 #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #valerie #red huntress #Switcheroo #Team Ghost

23 notes · View notes