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geekgirles · 3 years

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Your Heart

Chapter 4 -- Stalemate Word Count: 8284

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Waking up to the sound of her parents’ latest invention going awry was something she was sure she was never going to get used to. Never mind that she’d have an entire life to get accustomed to it or her newfound respect for what her family did for a living.

As disciplined as Jasmine Fenton was, being awakened by an explosion was never going to be anything but annoying.

Sighing resignedly, Jazz yanked her covers aside and got up, ready to start a new day. After showering and getting dressed with a long-sleeved, white dress shirt, a black ribbon tied tightly around its collar; a matching black, a-line skirt over thin grey tights; a teal blazer over her shirt, and brown ankle boots (which went well with her brown leather shoulder bag); she first made her way down the stairs to her parents’ lab.

Absent-mindedly combing her pixie cut with her fingersーa decision she made after 18 years of rushed haircuts due to having been covered in some sort of unknown ectoplasmic goo after an invention explodedー, Jazz cut straight to the chase. “Let me guess, your latest invention just ‘malfunctioned’”, she air-quoted.

As she expected, Jack and Maddie were hunched over a metallic device that had definitely seen better days, if the smoke coming off of it was any indication...What she wasn’t expecting though, although she should have, was her dad’s answer. “Actually, that was just the Fenton Toaster. We were about to start the day with a healthy, ghost-kicking breakfast, when she failed on us.” Had she been sixteen again or literally any other person in the world, Jazz might’ve actually been taken aback by the fact that her dad was tearing up over a toaster. Then again, she was Jazz Fenton and this sort of thing from her dad was as common as him yelling obscenities about ghosts. “Oh, dear friend. We hardly knew ye!”

Rolling her eyes at his dad’s antics while her mum patted his shoulder in an effort to comfort him, Jazz muttered, “Dad, that toaster’s almost as old as Danny…” Who, by the way, was going to be ecstatic to learn the dreaded toast-drying machine from Hell had finally been vanquished.

Speaking of her little brother, “Where’s Danny, anyway?”

Again, to any other family in the USA but the Fentons, that question would have seemed stupid. Danny was a college student who lived at his university’s dorms with his best friend, so the chances of him being around his childhood home during the school year were pretty slim. And, again, they were the Fentons, and her little brother had been going back and forth from his dorm, to Fenton Works, to the Ghost Zone (not like their parents knew, or even needed to know, about that one…) since he first got into APU.

Maddie left her weeping husband’s side to pick a wrench up and start working on the toaster again ーpoor Danny; it seemed the evil, toast-drying machine from Hell was harder to get rid of than Vlad. “Sorry, sweetie. You missed him while you were doing your research. Your brother was here yesterday; he said he came Sunday night because he couldn’t find his dorms’ keys. But he’s back at college now.”

She suddenly stopped tinkering with the busted toaster’s inner workings, taking off her goggles from her face, a pensive expression plastered on her face. “Hm...I know Danny’s always been a little distracted, but he keeps losing his keys. At this rate he’s going to end up sleeping on the street just because he can’t get inside his own home!”

Recovering from his temporary loss of composure over the Fenton Toaster ー“I love you, guys, but it’s a miracle this family hasn’t been studied by professional psychiatrics already. Not like I didn’t give it my best shot…”, Jazz thought to herselfー, Jack was soon standing right beside his wife, towering over the pile of scrap metal with a matching pensive expression of his own.

That couldn’t be good.

“Now that you mention it, sweetcakes,” he said, “you’re right. Danny’s always losing stuff!”

“Right?” Maddie insisted. “Don’t you remember, back in his first year of high school, when his English teacher, Mr. Lancer, called you over because Danny’s pants kept falling several times just that week?”

“Uh...the memory’s a bit blurry, Hon, but I know what you mean.” In truth, Jack didn’t remember any of that. All he knew was that he suddenly found himself chaperoning a homecoming dance. If only there was a way to get your memories back like those keychains that you attached to your clothes… And then it hit him. “I know, Maddie! Why don’t we make one of those keychains that you attach to your clothes so you won’t lose them for Danny?”

His wife beamed at that. For all his scatterbrained-ness, Jack truly was a talented inventor with a creative mind. Just a fuzzy head. “Oh, that sounds marvelous, honey! I’m sure Danny will love that!” She exclaimed before quickly pecking him on the lips.

Unbeknownst to her parents, Jazz grimaced in worry at the idea. Back when she was sixteen, or any other day, really; she’d have been overjoyed at the idea of her ghost-hunting parents creating something that was absolutely non-ghost-related, but since said idea would make it more difficult for Danny to keep his secret from them...She was just glad she was in town to look over him. Trying to appear supportive rather than dismayed, Jazz chirped, “Yeah, great idea, Dad...What are you going to call it? The Fenton Keychain?”

“‘The Fenton Keychain?’” Jack parroted before scoffing. “Of course not, Jazzy-pants! I was thinking something more along the lines of, ‘The Fenton Fermoir’!” He announced, striking a dramatic pose.

The blue-eyed young woman started at that, taken aback. “Wait, ‘fermoir’? Isn’t that French?”

“Yes, it’s an adjective that means ‘that which closes.’”

Gaping at her dad, Jazz blinked. And blinked again. And blinked a third time for good luck. “...you know French?”

This time, it was her mother who answered her, laughing her question off. “Oh, yes. There’s more to us than just ghost-hunting, you know?” Then she and her husband laughed together at her own joke.

“Could’ve fooled me…” Jazz mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Um...oh, right. So Danny’s not here today, huh?” Her parents shook their heads. “That’s a shame, I wanted to ask him how things were going with...um...with, you know, school and all that. Oh, well! I’m sure he’ll tell me some other time.”

Jack and Maddie exchanged a glance. Ever since Danny started going to high school, their kids often acted weird. At first, they blamed it on adolescence, making them want to make an identity for themselves outside of their parents’ influence but not knowing exactly who they truly were, either. But the fact that their eldest child was 23, their youngest 21, and they still acted like that sometimes was a bit concerning.

The wrench in her hand long forgotten, Maddie made her way to her daughter’s side. She draped an arm around her shoulders, not noticing that said arm was the one holding the aforementioned wrench and that she was unconsciously pointing at Jazz’s face with it. “Honey, is there something about Danny we should know about?”

Jazz panicked.

Yes.

Yes, there were so many things about Danny they should know about.

They should know their kid had gone through a terrible accident that changed his life forever at the tender age of fourteen. They should know he got ghost powers he spent agonising months trying to get control over. They should know he only ever wanted to protect innocents from ghosts and yet, he was labeled as a menace by the very same people he was trying to look after. They should know he’d not only been carrying the burden of being Amity Park’s unofficial protector since he was fourteen, but also became the king of an entire dimension and could count the people he could rely on with his hands. They should know he went through his very first serious heartbreak because the girl he liked hated his ghost half more than she liked him. They should know their college best friend was a fruitloop who wanted to kill Dad, take Mum from him, and either kill or adopt Danny; because, really, it all depended on the side of the bed Vlad woke up on.

They should know their only son was risking his life even more now because he’d made a deal with the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park who, judging by what Danny had told her, was the embodiment of a death sentence.

And he’d been carrying all those burdens and responsibilities, facing constant danger, making decisions not even full-fledged adults would find easy to make, and had been aimed at with ecto-blasters by his own parents since he was fourteen. Being Danny Phantom had stolen some of the best years of his life away from Danny Fenton.

And they had no idea of any of that.

But how could they, when Danny refused to tell them the truth?

Every time Danny faced a bigger threat than dealing with ghosts of the same caliber as the Box Ghost, Jazz tried convincing him to come clean to their parents. Because, what if they never saw him again after that battle? What would she tell them, then?

But Danny would not budge. And, Jazz remembered, she couldn’t blame him. With the entire town, barring a dedicated fan club, and a good chunk of the Ghost Zone against him, how could he risk losing one of the very few places he could call home? Just like she told him when he asked her why she never said anything about his secret, it was his secret. Only he could talk about it with Mum and Dad.

“Jazz, honey? Is everything alright?”

Her mother’s voice broke her out of her stupor. She must’ve spaced out for a while, for her parents were looking at her worriedly. Flushing sheepishly, she cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry. And don’t worry about Danny either. He just…” What was that excuse he told her he’d use if anyone started asking questions again? Oh, right. “He’s just busy working on a paper to help me with my own thesis, that’s all.”

Okay. So not only was it a lie, but it wasn’t exactly what Danny told her to say, either. Her little brother decided to respond saying he was suddenly very interested in the occult because he was writing a paper on a seminar he’d signed himself up for, but since she went back to Amity Park to study the witches there, it was still a good excuse.

Said excuse seemed to calm her parents down, before they fully registered her words and they seemed worried again. But, she knew, this time they were worried for her.

“Uh, Princess? Are you sure you want to focus that thesis of yours on...witches?” Jack asked warily, looking up from the remainers of the Fenton Toaster.

The redhead rolled her eyes in annoyance; there they went again. “Your father’s right, sweetie. While not necessarily a bad topic...erm...it’s not exactly the easiest one to research.” Her mother tried to discourage her gently. “For starters, most of the records we have are nothing but speculations and hearsay… I mean, the Salem witch trials were mostly based on unfounded accusations!”

How two of the world leading experts in ectology, who defended the existence of ghosts long before their theories were proven correct, could be so convinced there was no such thing as witches was beyond her. Arbitrary scepticism, much?

Jazz had to admit, she understood her family’s surprise when she opted to focus her thesis for her Cryptology class on the legendary women. A psychology undergraduate, a woman convinced of the infallible nature of the scientific method since birth, and an aspiring psychologist since she was sixteen, it was understandable that her decision to minor in Cryptology would come as a surprise to...well, everyone.

But protecting your half-ghost little brother from the shadows for the last seven years had a way of making you question everything you once thought you knew.

After all, if such a thing as ghosts weren’t only real but had an entire dimension for themselves, then who was to say such a thing as magic-wielding women couldn’t exist?

The moment Danny told her and Tucker he planned on asking them for help at the beginning of Fall only cemented her decision. It was a real pity Danny refused to disclose the supposed location of the Amity Park clan for her safety.

“Mum, Dad, I’ve told you already. It’s precisely because of all those myths that I want to study them. For all we know, all those potions that are always mentioned in folklore could just be really advanced medicine. Are we really going to turn our backs on the scientific community like that?”

“And that’s a great idea sweetie! But…” Maddie tried reasoning with her, but nothing came to mind. Awkwardly, she turned to her husband and whispered harshly, “Help me out here, will you?”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. “What your mother’s trying to say, Jazz, is that, if there was evidence on the existence of witches, we’d already know. Don’t forget, your ancestor, John Fentonightingale, was a celebrated witch hunter during the time of the Salem trials. He was an admired and respected member of his village, but the only thing he ever did was send innocent people to be burned alive.

“When he eventually realised what he’d done, he spent the rest of his life lamenting his shortsightedness; rejecting the fame and glory his witch-hunting days had brought him. And even if he ultimately turned to ghost-huntingー”

“Goodbye, fame and respect.” Jazz mumbled.

“ーthe hole in his heart caused by his actions would never be filled again.” Jack finished his tale with a morose expression, hoping Jazz would understand what he was trying to say.

She didn’t. “Okay, that was a very moving story with a valuable lesson on the dangers of letting fear and paranoia overtake us. But what does it have to do with me?”

Still standing by her daughter’s side, Maddie tried comfortingly rubbing her arms with the hand that wasn’t holding the wrench. “We’re just trying to warn you not to jump to conclusions, because you might regret it.”

Okay, that was it. Her parents were in no position to warn her against jumping to conclusions; they lost that right the day she finally understood they’d been unknowingly talking about ripping their own son apart ‘molecule by molecule’ ーright in front of him. Jerking away from her mother��s touch, she put her hands on her hips as she sent them her most meaningful look.

“For the last time! I’m not going to try and, I don’t know, rally up the entire town against the witches! I just want to study them. You know, learn about their culture, about the origins of their abilities, about the differences between fact and fiction...” she shot them a pointed look as she stressed that last part. “I just want to understand them!”

“But you don’t even know if they exist!” Jack protested as she made it to the stairs.

Hearing her dad’s comment, she turned to face them once more. Oh, she knew they existed alright, that much Danny had been able to clue her in. What she didn’t know was where to find them. But she couldn’t tell them that. “Well, that certainly didn’t stop you from building a ghost portal to another dimension you weren’t even sure existed! And it sure as Heck won’t stop me!”

That last comment should be enough to get her parents off her back for at least a couple of days. But the conversation had put her in a bad mood, something that didn’t happen since she learned to appreciate her parents’ ghost-hunting abilities, or, when it was Danny who was being pursued by them, their lack thereof. Stomping out of the house and slamming the door closed behind her, Jazz angrily made her way to the usual starting point of her quest.

The Amity Park Public Library.

The large granite building was supposed to be completely white, but the decades since it was built had washed out the stones, making them look grey-ish instead. The several steps leading up to the entrance were flanked by two lead lion statues resting atop a block of stone each. The front of the building, on the other hand, was both decorated and supported by numerous columns, with two of them at either side of the wooden door.

Despite the impressive sight, what truly mattered lay behind its doors. Walking inside, Jazz let herself be washed over by the smell of ink and paper so characteristic of the library. Wherever she looked, hundreds of books stood proudly on their shelves, some of them so high up that the only way to reach them was with the help of stairs.

Scattered around the library were several tables and plastic chairs where the visitors could sit to read their latest acquisition or work on the projects that brought them to the library in the first place.

Breathing the scent in, Jazz walked over to the little counter located right at the entrance of the library, where the librarian would usually be working on her computer. Whenever she wasn’t out and about organising books, that is.

Jazz waved at her with a smile. After coming to the library to study for years, she was basically a regular by now. “Good morning, Wilhelmina!” Wincing at her unintentional high-pitched tone, she lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “How’s everything around here?”

Looking up from her computer, the pudgy woman smiled knowingly at Jazz before willing her chair to get closer to her. “Good morning, Jasmine. It’s been so long since I last saw you; when was it again, two days ago?” Wilhelmina joked as she leaned in closer to the redhead, intertwining her fingers as her elbows rested on her desk.

Jazz flushed slightly at the harmless jab. “What can I say? You won’t get rid of me so easily!”

“Don’t I know it…” There was something odd about the way the librarian said those words, but the redhead decided to let it go. It was probably nothing, either way.

“I wanted to ask you if you could recommend a book onー?”

“On witches?” The auburn-haired lady finished for her. Seeing the young woman’s embarrassed hint of red on her cheeks, she chuckled. “Oh, don’t be so surprised, my dear. You’ve been asking for the same thing for almost a month now! It’s just nice seeing someone retain some sort of interest for this old place and its books. Nowadays, most people just come here to surf the net for free.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about me for a while, then! So, the books?”

Leaning back on her chair, Wilhelmina pointed to a faraway aisle. “Try the History section. I’m sure there’ll be a journal or something to help you with your paper.”

Jazz flashed her a charming grin, “Thanks, Wilhelmina. You’re the best!” As she turned her back on the librarian, Jazz failed to notice the dark grin that made its way to her face.

Once Jazz was out of earshot, Wilhelmina said, “Oh, you have no idea,” the twisted expression never leaving her face.

As she walked around the library’s endless halls, Jazz couldn’t help but be grateful for having Wilhelmina as the librarian. Any other person would have looked at her like she was crazy or a Satanist murderer in the making for researching the occult so much, but never Wilhelmina. The woman just smiled at her and tried helping her to the best of her abilities. If Jazz had been looking for information entirely on her own, she’d have stuck to a particular section of the library, but Wilhelmina was always recommending a broader search. And, Jazz couldn’t help but think, it was a smart choice. One never knew what they could find or learn if they listened to different experiences other than their own.

Standing in front of the shelf where the history books were, the aqua-eyed woman began scanning for something that might help her clear up the fog surrounding the group of witches Danny might be facing from now on. If she could just find out where their hideout was supposed to be… Not only would she be able to study them, but she might even convince them to ally themselves with her brother for good!

Ever since she was a teenager and found out about her brother’s secret, Jazz was determined to focus her thesis on the effects such circumstances could have on him. But as time went by, she came to understand that would be impossible. Writing a thesis on Danny’s very unique circumstances would be akin to exposing him, and she couldn’t do that to him.

Because he trusted her.

Danny’s number of enemies increased tenfold by the day, while his allies followed a much more stagnant rhythm. Goodness, he couldn’t even get his girlfriend to give up ghost hunting for him! She and Tucker were the only two people in all of Amity Park he could rely on.

And there was no way she’d ever betray that trust.

Which, sure, was a very meaningful proof of the love and bond between them, but still left Jazz without a topic for her thesis. So when Danny revealed his discoveries on the existence of witches, of all things, she was ecstatic.

The possibility of a magical species living in Amity Park was perfect on many levels. On the one hand, it would expand their knowledge of the paranormal, with the added bonus of finding potential alternatives for everyday problems. And on the other, it gave her the perfect excuse to stay close to Danny and make sure he was safe. With her in town, he wouldn’t have to make up excuses as to why he slept in Fenton Works when he already had a perfectly nice place to stay at APU. All he had to do was phase through her room to get to his.

And, most importantly, that way he had somebody else he could talk to about his double life. He was going to need it if he’d indeed managed to establish a truce between the spellbinding women and ghosts. From what he’d told them, those sorceresses were vile.

As she walked over a nearby table carrying a pile of books with both hands, Jazz couldn’t help but wonder how her little brother would handle the situation.

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

Danny was not handling the situation well.

Although, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. Lady Arcana’s own unwillingness to cooperate was a key factor in their stalemate.

Even if they addressed each other formally and obvious jabs directed at their respective species were, thankfully, non-existent, the coldness between them that reigned during their first face-to-face interaction was now stronger than ever.

Just like the last time, he’d sent Skulker to escort the queen and her entourageーwhich still consisted of the same two witches; talk about confidence…ー through the Ghost Zone up until they arrived at his lair’s throne room. They still pretended they were both honoured to be in each other’s presence even though Danny was sure the Witch Queen wished she could just spit at him as much as he did.

And knowing Desiree, if she were near to grant her wish, a cascade of spit would rain down on him.

This time, however, Danny had ventured deeper inside his lair, with the witches close behind him. Figuring discussing over inter-dimensional safety in the middle of his throne room would be unwise, since one never knew who could be watching, he led his guests to the Council Room; where the Observants, Clockwork, and heーand occasionally Frostbite or any other ghost with a modicum of authorityーgathered to discuss political affairs regarding the Infinite Realms.

Admittedly, he wanted to slap himself for not thinking about it sooner.

Another thing that was different and he had failed to point out earlier was that, technically, the witches weren’t alone. No, there was nobody else besides the queen and her two...guards? ーcould he even call them guards?ー but they weren’t alone per se, either.

The bespectacled, strawberry blonde one had a pet owl perched on her shoulder. The bird, Danny had to admit, was beautiful. Its plumage was predominantly white and cream. The white feathers were more noticeable in its belly and heart-shaped face, with most of its body and the top of its head looking rather creamy. The owl’s black orbs seemed not only capable of seeing in the dark, but also deep inside your soul.

In other words, the girl’s pet was pretty, but creepy. And he had a feeling that would be a stable of these women.

The Asian teenager seemed to prefer reptiles, and, yes, he based his hypothesis entirely on the fact that the girl had a bearded dragon around her neck as if she was wearing a scarf. Danny couldn’t tell what was creepier; the lizard’s naturally spiky, scale-covered body and its little tongue licking its eyeball, or the way the witch scratched her pet’s chin and cooed at it when she thought nobody was paying attention to her.

“Well, it could be worse. She could buy herself a cat and name it after a married woman who will never love her back.” Danny had to physically restrain himself from shuddering at the thought.

But the weirdest thing, of course, had to be Lady Arcana’s own companion. Which, again, he was sure was going to be a stable between them. At first he didn't even see her carrying anything, her form obscured by her cloak, but the moment they entered the Council Room ーalone; Lady Arcana had stationed her witches to guard the doors, just as he did the same with two of Walker’s goonsーand she made herself comfortable (or as comfortable as she’d ever be in enemy territory), he spotted it.

Had she really brought a potted plant with her all the way from the portal to his lair? And, now that he took a closer look, was that a carnivorous plant?

Scratch whatever he said about the teenager and her lizard. The way the plant nuzzled her face or wrapped itself around her forearm as she gently stroked its stem was ten times creepier. Although, a part of him couldn’t help but think she and Undergrowth would get along swimmingly.

Two plant-loving psychos bonding with each other. Talk about a meet cute.

But never mind their questionable taste for pets. They’d been discussing for over an hour and they were still at the starting point. Time was money and this woman was going to make him go bankrupt if they kept going like this.

“Your Majesty, I understand the situation is quite...extraordinary, but I’m afraid we are still in need of a solution.” He tried for the umpteenth time that hour.

The woman before him just sniffed in displeasure. It was a good thing they were separated by a rather large, rectangular table, otherwise, he might have leaned forward and wrung her little neck out of sheer exasperation. “I am perfectly aware of the situation, King Phantom. But, as I have informed you already, there is not much I can do if I do not know the cause of the portals opening.”

But that was precisely why he needed her help! Getting frustrated, Danny let out through gritted teeth, “Which I believe is precisely the reason why I need you here in the first place, my Lady. You are supposed to be able to discover the reason behind it.”

“Well, supposedly, these portals are a natural occurrence of the Ghost Zone. How is it possible that you do not know how to take care of the problem on your own?” She countered, matter-of-factly, and Danny would have given about anything to get her to shut up and do something useful instead.

“Supposedly,” he echoed, “your people have the natural ability to surpass the laws that separate the Infinite Realms and Earth from each other, and hence, youーshouldーknowーhowーtoーcounterーit!” His voice raising in volume as he spoke, he made sure to punctuate that last part for emphasis.

Narrowing her violet eyes at him in disdainーhow could he have ever thought they were beautiful?!ー, Lady Arcana spat. “Supposedly, that bond was tattered after your kind’s betrayal.”

If it weren’t for the audacity of her statement, he would’ve recoiled at the gravity and resentment etched into her words. Narrowing his own eyes at her, he leaned forward. “Trust me, your Majesty, you would be wise to keep your mouth shut; you are in no position to talk about betrayals.”

As her scowl deepened, teeth borne at him in anger, a low growl could be heard emanating from her throat. But Danny was not going to be intimidated that easily. Returning the intensity of her gaze, the two kept eye contact, initiating a staring contest born from frustration and distrust.

Eventually, the Witch Queen averted her eyes, crossing her eyes in a huff as she leaned back on her chair. Her little plant reacted to her turmoil, for it hopped over to her ーwait, it hopped?!ーto get her attention. Noticing her weird-ass pet near her, the witch began to absent-mindedly caress its little, purple...head?

He was never eating a salad again in his life; he ought to let Tucker know he’d decided to join him in his carnivorous ways.

Leaning back against his own chair, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted. They’d been at it for more than an hour and, rather than discuss a possible solution, all they’d done was argue. Sighing through his nose, he called out to her, an idea forming in his mind, “Hey.”

Taken aback by his sudden drop of formality, Sam looked over at him with a guarded expression. What was he up to? Rather than answering, she raised an interested eyebrow as a sign to go on.

Danny took that raised eyebrow and her silence as permission to continue. “How about we drop the honorifics and formality for a while, huh? I don’t know about you, but I’m a rather laid-back person and having to address someone as if I was meeting the Queen of England tends to stress me out. And that by extension makes me much more prone to get defensive.”

Sam bit back her reply that she was, in fact, as much of a queen as the Queen of England, and that he should treat her as such.

“And let’s be real; getting defensive with each other is going to get us nowhere, don’t you agree? Besides, I’m already stressed out as it is due to a matter regarding a black hole forming, so I bet I’m not the most agreeable guy to be around right now.”

“No, you aren’t”, Sam was actually surprised Phantom shared her beliefs about formality and social distance. But that didn’t mean she was going to lower her guard around him. And his last words took her completely by surprise. “...did you just say ‘black hole’?”

“That’s not something you should concern yourself with.” He dismissed the question immediately.

Squinting her lavender eyes at him, her suspicions of any ulterior motives never quite going away, Sam gave in. “What are you getting at?”

At least she was listening to him. He was willing to count that as progress. Danny raised his palms up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, we don’t know for how long we’re gonna have to work together. So how about we’re at least casual with each other? Because, I don’t know about you, but all this higher register of speech is giving me a headache.”

As if to prove his point, Danny rose up in the air until he was comfortably floating about three feet high. As he leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head and one leg over the other, nothing would’ve wiped the smug look on his face as he looked down on the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park, her own jaw hanging low in awe.

Noticing the smugness radiating off of him in waves, the raven-haired girl forced her jaw shut. No way in Hell was she going to give him the satisfaction of amazing her. Even if she wasn’t going to say it aloud, Sam concurred with his point. Straightening her back, head held up high, she made sure to bruise his ego the same way he almost bruised hers. “Fine. Let’s drop the honorifics, I was tired of pretending I have any respect for you, anyway.”

Danny frowned at that. “Hey!”

“What? Do you seriously expect me to believe I’m not in immediate danger of being attacked by a ghost just for the mere fact of invading their turf? That you and your people actually respect mine?” Her voice was laced with cynicism as she scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

As much as Danny would’ve loved to contradict her, he knew he couldn’t. After all, he hadn’t just sent Skulker to escort them in fear they might get lost, the possibility of them being ambushed by vengeful ghosts was very real.

The raven-haired girl smiled triumphantly, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. “If it’s any consolation, if any of you so much as tried stepping foot, or ghostly tail, or whatever, into our territory, not a single one of us would hesitate to exorcise the Hell outta you.” Motioning to the door with her head, she added. “Susan in particular would have a blast.”

“Susan?”

“The teenager with the bearded dragon; Count Scalynton”

“‘Count Scalynton’?” Danny echoed in disbelief, before having to stifle a laugh with his gloved hand. Seeing the Witch Queen’s unamused stare, however, he sobered up. “And...uh...what about...the owl?”

“That’s Spooky.” Lady Arcana replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

“And your little friend?” He asked hesitantly, pointing at the potted plant comfortably perched on its owner’s lap, but making sure his finger didn’t get too close; in fear of getting it bitten off.

“Oh, this little guy?” Sam looked down at DeMilo with a fond smile. “His name’s DeMilo.”

“...are you serious?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“No! No, no. Of course not! DeMilo is...uh, a great name.” He quickly assured her, sheepishly. The last thing he needed was to invoke her wrath, again. Clearing his throat, Danny decided it’d be best to change topics. “So...No honorifics?”

“No honorifics.” Lady Arcana nodded from her chair.

“Right. So, instead of ‘your Majesty’, ‘my Lord’, or ‘King Phantom’, you can just call me ‘Phantom’ and Iー”

“You can just call me ‘Lady Arcana.’” The Witch Queen cut him off with a tone that left no room for discussion.

The white-haired young man slouched slightly at that. Just when he thought they were making progress, she closed herself off completely all over again. But he couldn’t afford displeasing her further, so he’d have to play by her rules...For now. “Right. Got it. So...about those portals?”

As he asked that, Phantom leaned forward to her, changing his position mid-air so his torso was facing now upside down but his head remained straight. As the Ghost King lowered his body so his forearms were atop the wooden table, an intrigued gaze directed at her, Sam deposited DeMilo on the table, her own hands resting on it. Locking eyes, they had each other’s undivided attention.

Understanding they were back to business, Sam sighed tiredly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I need to know the cause behind the portals’ strange behaviour. If this is something that can be solved through magic, then it is imperative that we know what’s causing it to figure out the best course of action to take. The wrong spell could lead to disastrous consequences.”

“Like?” Phantom raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Like sending the world to another dimension instead of closing a portal between dimensions.”

“I guess that makes sense. So how do we figure out the cause?”

“I can start by looking through this.” Sam offered as she, seemingly, got a book out of nowhere, Phantom’s eyes widening at the sight. The reddish-brown leathered book was the same one she used to open the portals to the Ghost Zone, which made it their safest bet for finding a solution. After all, if the book guarded almost forgotten knowledge on how to open inter-dimensional drifts, then it should have the answers to more mysteries, right?

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

Outside the Council Room, on each side of the door, Stephanie and Susan were patiently waiting for their queen. Well, “patiently waiting” might have been an exaggeration. Stephanie was stiff as a board, while Susan looked like a furious guard dog, the murder in her eyes only cemented the picture.

Both witches’ emotional state could only be attributed to one thing.

Ghosts.

Or, to be more precise, the two police-dressed, green spirits they were forced to stand guard alongside because the Ghost King wasn’t about to be caught dead (pun not-intended) with three witches and no back-up.

As much as she hated it, Susan had to give the spook credit: he wasn’t nearly as stupid as she thought.

The teenager kept stroking the length of Count Scalynton’s body, currently sprawled alongside her arm, as she pondered different ways to escape the Ghost King’s lair and his ectoplasmic, door-floating, bloodcurdling realm in case things went awry.

Beside her, Stephanie was lovingly scratching Spooky’s beak in an attempt to calm herself down. Looking over at the ghost-guard assigned to her, she squeaked and promptly looked away when the spectre, having felt her gaze on him, landed his blood-red, pupiless eyes on her. Gulping loudly, she whispered to Susan. “Do you think her Majesty will be frequently meeting Phantom from now on?”

Susan whispered back with a sneer. “I hope not! Miss Wilhelmina was right when she warned me against these putrid, soulless drones. We can’t lower our guards, especially not now that the queen needs us.”

Discreetly pointing with her head, the Asian girl guided her partner’s gaze to her hips. Lifting her red hoodie almost unnoticeably, the strawberry blonde’s eyes widened at the sight; two crossed, leather bandoliers were filled to the brims with an assemblage of jars containing colourful liquids. Stephanie’s jaw almost fell open in shock; the 17-year-old girl was armed to the teeth with potions!

Realising they weren’t alone and the dangers in their secret stash being found out, Stephanie tried to appear nonchalant. Pretending to be talking in general, she added. “I just hope her Majesty is safe.”

Susan gave her a wry smile. “Oh, trust me. Her Majesty will be fine even without our help.”

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

As she skimmed the pages of the spellbook in search of more information on the portals, Sam kept looking over at Phantom, praying he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

As satisfying as it’d been seeing his bewildered face when she suddenly pulled the book off seemingly out of nowhere, the truth was she’d been carrying it with her under her skirt. But what she worried about was not him finding out about the book, but the other items her dress hid from plain sight.

Strapped around her thigh was a black holster filled with potions. Unlike the arsenal Sam knew Susan had brought with her, which consisted of several offensive and highly corrosive concoctions, the queen’s own collection consisted mostly of Blinding Bombs. As the name indicated, it was a type of potion whose main purpose was to distract the opponent long enough to retreat or come up with a plan. If things went south, all Sam had to do was smash the jar against the ground and cover her eyes, for a small explosion of light would ensue and temporarily blind the spirits, giving her and her girls enough time to escape.

As she leafed through the spellbook’s pages, she suddenly shivered, noticing a cold presence by her side sending shivers down her spine. What was even odder was the sudden smell of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Dumbfounded, she turned her face to the side and growled at the sight. Snapping the book closed and bringing it close to her chest, she snarled at Phantom. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Taken aback by her sudden movements, Danny blinked. “Um, trying to help you?”

He had to be kidding her. “Come again?”

“I...uh...I just thought I could help you look for answers.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “So I was trying to see if I could find anything useful in that book of yours.”

Oh, he definitely had to be kidding her. “No, thank you.” She turned him down, only thanking him out of politeness. She turned back to the book. “You’ll only drag us down, anyway.”

Danny was starting to get really frustrated with that all-knowing, condescending attitude of hers. Even his sister wasn’t as annoying despite her know-it-all tendencies. Hell, Skulker was easier to work with! Standing up in mid-air, using his leverage to stare her downーliterallyーhe folded his arms in front of his chest. “And how, pray tell, am I going to drag us down?”

He was surprised by the witch’s next action. Huffing loudly, she got up from her chair and shoved the book in his face quicker than he could blink. At first he had trouble registering what just happened (mostly because he was levitating a good three feet above her and she was still safely on the ground) until he took notice of the sparkly, purple mist surrounding theーfloatingーspellbook. He blinked in awe; so that’s how her magic looked like. Once the initial surprise had worn off, however, Danny had to admit, he was a little disappointed; he’d expected more than a floating book.

Looking over the tome, he saw Lady Arcana staring intently at him. Instead of anger as he expected, however, an amused, knowing expression adorned her features. He might’ve thought she looked pretty hadn’t it been for the wickedness of her smile.

“Read.” She instructed him.

Danny did as he was told...only to furrow his brow in confusion. What the…? Reading over the pages he couldn’t make sense of anything written on them. The inked markings splattered all over couldn’t even be considered hieroglyphics! Squinting at the offending piece of paper, he tried reading aloud. “Spiral...lightning bolt...spork?...What kind of sick mind came up with this?!”

Sam let out a hollow laugh. “You really think that if you were really able to read this book in the first place all by yourself, you’d even need to call for me?” She rolled her eyes at him, not knowing what to think; either this guy was messing with her head or he was an idiot. She motioned with her hand for the book to return to her “Limit yourself to keeping your subjects in line and let me handle this. Although, on second thought, I might actually be asking way too much of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The green-eyed ghost didn’t like where this was going.

Still reading, Lady Arcana raised her palms up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, for a ghost that’s supposed to be the undisputable ruler of an entire race after having defeated a tyrant, you sure have a lot of detractors defying your authority.”

“Oh, please! Like you know anything about my subjects or any possible detractors.” Was it true he was often fending off ghosts who didn’t care for his laws to stay clear of Amity Park? Saying he didn’t occasionally get his ass handed to him would be like saying his parents took kindly to people who disrespect their jumpsuits, but he didn’t have to tell her that.

“I know more than enough.” Sam countered.

“Oh, yeah? Name one ghost who doesn’t respect my rule and still causes trouble.” The halfa challenged. What was he trying to get out of this? At least ¾ of his enemies screamed their names and evil plots whenever they were freed from the Ghost Zone! In Ember’s case, she literally depended on people knowing and chanting her name.

“That poacher ghost of yours...what’s his name?”

A poacher ghost? Who the fuck was she talking aboー? “You mean Skulker?”

Sam perked up at that. “Yes, that one! He so obviously doesn’t respect your authority. I mean, he literally hunts you, the Ghost King, for sport almost every two weeks!”

An undignified sound escaped the halfa’s throat, but that was the last of his concerns at the moment. “Okay, first of all,” he started, raising one gloved finger, “he so totally respects my authority. Whenever I need help, he’s always willing to put the whole hunting-the-most-unique-specimen-ever aside for the greater good. And second,” he sent her a pointed look, floating closer to her. He revelled in the way she uncomfortably shrunk away from him; served her right, “Skulker’s not a poacher, he’s a hunter!”

“Does he have a permit or a hunting license?” Lady Arcana asked, not missing a beat.

That actually gave him pause. “Well...no, butー!”

“If a hunter hunts with no permit, then he’s a poacher!” Seriously, how dense could this dude be?

“You seem to be forgetting that Skulker is a resident of the Ghost Zone; my domain. Whatever laws are followed on Earth or among your kind, do not necessarily apply to us.”

“That outta shut her up,” he thought triumphantly.

“So you’re saying you’re okay with innocent creatures dying solely for the purpose of flattering one ghost’s ego?”

Well, apparently not. Danny spluttered at that. Who was this woman anyway, Jane Goodall?! “Whaー? No, of course not!” He vehemently denied before changing topics. This woman was about to get a taste of her own medicine. “But what’s with all these pointing fingers anyway?! I bet some of your ‘loyal’ witches also commit their own atrocities right under your nose.”

Oh, she was going to blast him into next Thursday for that! Standing up from her chair, Sam slammed her hands against the table (careful not to hurt or startle DeMilo, though). “For your information,” she snarled at the ghost before her, “the only huntress in my clan is Diana. And not only is she formidable, sheーalsoーhasーaーpermit!”

Fed up with the ridiculous conversation and the even more ridiculous woman, Danny slammed his own hands down on the table, even if he was floating. “Again with the permit! What’s with you and permits?! What are you, a cop?!”

“I’m a queen!” Sam all but roared. “So, yes, it is my job to ensure certain jobs are only trusted to people with permits!”

Danny was about to continue ranting, but he stopped himself. All this pointless fighting was only making them waste time, and they couldn’t afford that. He didn’t understand how she wasn’t already exhausted from all the arguing. Rubbing his face with his hands, he let himself fall back on his chair. “Let’s...let’s just keep on investigating. Forget I said anything.”

Sam was about to retort when she took notice of the white-haired ghost’s tired eyes, her own fatigue finally kicking in. Slumping her shoulders as she, too, fell back on her chair once again, she continued reading. “Yeah, sure. That’ll be for the best.”

They stayed in silence for a while after that. Lady Arcana reading intently, and Danny praying to all things above him that he’d be able to survive the day. Eventually, the Witch Queen broke the silence, slamming her book shut. His head snapping up at the sound, Danny dared to hope. “Any luck?”

The queen sighed. “I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?”

His heart sank. “The bad news,” he moaned pitifully.

“Bad news is, there’s nothing in this book about what could possibly be causing the Ghost Zone to create more portals than usual. The most it has is the spell I use to get here, but that’s about it.”

Danny was convinced his heart was now lost somewhere along his knees. “And the good news?”

“This isn’t the only book that might have information on the Ghost Zone. When our people parted ways for good after you-know-what,” the look of resentment was back on her face and Danny didn’t know what to do; he should be the one feeling offended! “most of our knowledge was forgotten, but not lost.”

“Meaning?” He prompted her to finish her statement.

“Meaning, there’s still probably many more books on the topic.” She finished.

“Which means…” Danny began, only for the two of them to groan in dismay. As nice as it was that not everything was lost just because that particular book didn’t have the answers, having to look for another spellbook or grimoire meant they would have to keep meeting with each other. For Lady Arcana would never leave a precious heirloom belonging to her people out of her sight and in the Ghost Zone, and Danny couldn’t afford to take his eyes off of her in case she and her kind double-crossed them.

In other words, they were stuck with each other until further notice...He was starting to regret not being fully killed by the accident the day he got his powers.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fic #my fic #your heart #danny fenton #sam manson #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #oc #Amethyst Ocean #ghost king au #witch queen au #ghost king! danny #witch queen! sam #enemies to friends to lovers

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

Text

A Dangerous Game

part 21

masterlist

Hello, darlings! Just for you, because I have no impulse control!-- chaotic puff

This time when she walked into the headquarters, she looked every inch the boss’ wife carrying herself with the detached arrogance of those that have power, granted she had none, but she knew how to fake it. This wasn’t a meeting she could go to as a meek little captive. She was walking into a cock fight of the grandest proportions, and she had to hold herself up as the most important person in the room even if she was nothing more than a bargaining chip.

She’d never been in Namjoon’s main office before, but the room was just as cold and imposing as the man himself. The tension crackling dangerously between the two groups of men in the room did nothing to help that either. Namjoon sat behind his desk with the two men who had ambushed her and Jackson flanking him while a man she did not know sat across from him flanked by a man she did not know… and Mark. She looked at the man in confusion only for him to throw her an impish wink.

The gesture did nothing to help the tension that hung heavy in the room. She and Jin could hear the shouting all the way down the hall. It was quite now that they were within the room, but the frigid tension remained.

“Jagiya, you look lovely.” Namjoon said with a cold smile standing to greet her as Jin took the jacket that he had insisted she wear draped over her shoulders for aesthetic purposes.

He held out a hand beckoning for her to join him, when the other man spoke. “I would prefer that, Miss Wang…”

“Mrs. Kim.” Namjoon corrected eyes narrowed dangerously though his tone was cordial enough.

“Miss Wang, be seated with her own family until this can all be sorted officially.” His voice had a stiffly formal lilt to it as he shot Namjoon a look almost as frigid as the one Namjoon had been giving him clearly unappreciative of the correction.

“She is not your family.” Namjoon growled his voice a low rumble and his jaw clenched in irritation.

“On the contrary.” The other man waved him off. “Our dear Jackson has claimed her as kin, and we protect our own.” He turning a disinterested gaze in her direction. “You must be quite something for Jackson to claim you as family and pull us all into this mess.”

“I’m not sure who adopted who.” She replied with a stiff smile of her own.

“Well that doesn’t matter now.” He waved her off. “What matters now is getting Jackson out of here, don’t you think?” She nodded hesitantly in reply. Something about the man that made her feel uneasy, but he claimed to be here for Jackson, and she needed all the help she could get on that front. “I’m Im Jaebum. You can call me JB. I’m the leader of GOT7.”

“Pleasure.” She kept a wary on him as she seated herself in the open chair to the left of him. “How do you know, Jackson?”

“Jackson is my brother.” He smirked. “A loyal member of GOT7.”

“Jackson left the mafia behind.” She narrowed her eyes at him, plastering on a cold smile that could have put both of the crime lords’ to shame.

The man shrugged clearly unbothered by her frigid attitude. “He’s been a little wayward, but he’s still our brother, and I’ve come to negotiate his release.” He turned his gaze to Namjoon again. “Can we see him now?”

“I don’t know why you had to summon her here.” Namjoon grumbled pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I wanted to see the girl that got Jackson into this mess. Now, if you could return Jackson?”

“Hoseok.” He addressed the redheaded man stationed behind him. “Bring him in.”

Despite Namjoon’s promise not to hurt him, the man that Hoseok brought in was in worse condition than the man she had left behind just the night before.

“Jackson!” She shrieked running to him kneeling by his side where Hoseok had dropped him on his knees. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him!” She shot an accusing glare at Namjoon before she turned her attention back to the battered man beside her. “What have they done to you?” She whispered gently hovering over the bruises and cuts that dotted his face.

“Hey, Y/N.” He gave her a goofy smile making her tutt and fuss in disapproval.

“He proved to be quite difficult to subdue after your visit yesterday.” Namjoon’s reply was so careless that it set everyone who did not work for him on edge.

“This was not our deal.” She hissed as Mark and JB’s other man came to lift Jackson up to his feet.

“I thought you were made of stronger stuff than this.” Mark joked allowing the other man to lean on him.

“Yeah well the little one has a mean swing.” He growled looking towards the dark haired man standing bored over Namjoon’s shoulder.

Namjoon smirked clearly not at all sorry for the damage that had been inflicted. “Yoongi was only trying to keep your man from damaging himself further. He was in quite a state when we left him last night.” False sympathy dripped from his tone like poisoned honey. “You should have taught him to keep his hands to himself.”

“None of this would have happened if you could keep control of your woman.” JB scoffed glaring disdainfully at Namjoon. “Though you have to admire her spunk. She’d fit to be a member of GOT7’s family, don’t you think? Shame she has to be your wife.”

“That was the agreement.” Namjoon growled his eyes darting to her before returning to the other crime leader.

Her head snapped back and forth between the two men dread curling in her belly. “What are you talking about?”

JB turned to her his smile more slimy than anything else. “You see, Y/N, as you are a member of our clan thanks to Jackson, I’ve taken it upon myself as leader of the clan to arrange your marriage for the good of the clan. Jackson was never in any real danger. He just needed the proper push to come home. And you... you are a peace offering for the trouble Jackson has caused with Bangtan in the past few weeks.”

She took a step back stumbling as if someone had dealt her a blow. “What are you talking about?”

“RM wanted you, and I wanted Jackson back. And this way, I get to make a powerful alliance in the process.” He shrugged.

“Jackson?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He called desperately reaching out to her only to have her recoil violently.

“Don’t touch me, you rat bastard!”

Jackson winced, flinching back from her words. “Y/N, please. I was just trying to protect you.”

“You’re still a part of the mafia?” She asked. He nodded. Y/N scoffed, eyes wide and disbelieving as she stared at him. “You told me you left.”

“Y/N…”

“You told me you left it behind.”

“Little bear...”

“Don’t call me that! I trusted you!” She shouted backing away further. “I let… I let him… I… because you… but you were…” She stumbled trying to grasp what had happened, trying to fight down the bile that was rising in her throat. Jackson was quickly at her side supporting her despite his own injuries. “Don’t touch me!” She shrieked flinging him away from her ignoring his wounded expression as she did so.

Her mind was reeling trying to process all the information. Jackson was part of the mafia. Jackson had lied to her. “Did you know?” She hissed.

“Y/N.” He reached for her again only for her to back further away, unconsciously moving closer to Namjoon who was carefully watching the interaction. “I didn’t...”

“Did you know?” She screamed.

“I just asked for help. I couldn’t find you, and he had you. I didn’t mean for this…”

“No.” She whimpered her heart breaking as she looked at the man she had called her brother for so long. “How could you? Do you know what I... what he...?”

“Y/N.” He called pleadingly.

“How could you! After everything!”

“Y/N.” Namjoon called standing up to move around the desk in her direction making the decision to intercede. He’d seen enough of her distress.

She whirled on him. “You already got what you wanted.” She spat before turning her burning glare back on Jackson and his ilk.

“Think of it this way,” JB drawled seemingly bored by the dramatics. “Jackson gets to be free and rejoin the family where he belongs, and you get to have beautiful white wedding compliments of your new family.”

Without thinking, Y/N swiped up the letter opener from the desk and prepared to plunge it into his smug face. In that moment, she hated JB far more than she hated Namjoon. He was playing with lives without a care. He’d played with her life without even knowing who she was. At least Namjoon had met her before he’d started to toy with her life.

The letter opener did make contact, just not with its intended recipient. Namjoon had moved in front of her taking the blow to the shoulder instead of the letter opener meeting with JB’s throat. Fortunately for him, the letter opener was not very sharp, though it had pierced through his suit and made a decent cut on his shoulder.

Y/N dropped the letter opener letting it fall the carpet with an unceremonious thud. She stared at the wound for a moment, blinking in a daze as her eyes slowly rose to meet Namjoon’s tight lipped grimace. She’d stabbed him, she realized. She’d really stabbed him, and in that moment all she could think of was that it was a pity the wound wasn’t more substantial.

“Boss?” Hoseok called moving to come forward, but Namjoon waved him off.

“Jagi.” He murmured softly hands coming up to gently cup her face forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were wide and dazed still, strangely empty. “Jagiya.”

“Y/N.” Jackson limped forward a few steps but stopped as she flinched curling herself into Namjoon’s arms much to Jackson’s displeasure and Namjoon’s delight. “Y/N, please.”

It all left a bitter taste in her mouth. Jackson’s lies. JB’s battering her like cattle. Allowing Namjoon to take her over and over again just hours before. It was all suddenly too much.

“Take me home.” She whimpered into Namjoon’s chest.

“Okay…” He whispered placing a soft kiss to her head. “Yoongi, would you grab Jin please?” Her hold on his suit tightened bringing a frown to Namjoon’s face. “On second thought, I’ll take her home myself.” He turned his gaze on his rival gang. “Bangtan will handle the wedding preparations. Take you filth and go. Keep him away from my wife.”

“We’ll see you at the wedding then.” JB nodded standing and coming over to them pulling a lacquered box out of his suit pocket. “This is for you.” He spoke handing the box to Y/N though she didn’t take it. “It’s a symbol of your membership in the clan.” He opened the box pulling out a silver hairpin decorated with a single white jade calla lily on the end before sliding it into her up-do. “Welcome to the family.” He smirked motioning his men to follow him out. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Namjoon’s attention immediately turned back to her as soon as they had left the room. “Jagi?” He cooed handling her delicately as though she was fragile, and maybe she was. There was only so much the human psyche could take before it cracked.

“Take me home.” She whimpered. “Please just… just take me home.”

part 22

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #got7 #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #yandere #soft yandere #mafia #mafia au #rm x reader #rm #a dangerous game #fanfic

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heleizition · 4 years

Note

I’m imagining that joker kidnaps Bruce Wayne’s kids to get Batman’s attention, and even sends Bruce Wayne a message. Apparently he got Jason in broad daylight in front of people, so it was a pretty public event (especially if they know that well bred, giant hyena is the Wayne’s kid) that they saw him getting tranqued with multiple shots. If they got him when he was still a growing child, Tim, Cass, Duke and the others only see bouts of laughter from PTSD (kinda like pit madness but he didn’t die). If they were there though,,,then they heard non stop distressed laughter for weeks while he was falling up in panic. Sometimes they hear Jason laugh in human form and are unsettled because it sounds similar to his hyena form. (But he sounds cute and it doesn’t happen often so it’s ok).

In the end instant effect of seeing joker and his goons attacking his family right after his escape lead him him going fully feral and dismembering and mutilating an entire room full of people. Bruce saw him bloody with a hand in between his teeth and Jason was devestated when he realized what he just did (but Bruce forgives him and he is getting therapy for his trauma because Bruce is a good dad UwU)

VIOLENCE AND TORTURE TW

ok ok so the situation would be like, joker is a bitch who has a thing against the waynes (i watched joker w my family the other day lol so im running on this bc comic joker obsessed w the bat wouldn’t be really fun in this au since there is only batman n batwoman, no bat kids to hurt,) and to hurt the Rich Wayne Family he takes his time n kidnaps all the kids. at this time jason is 15, tim is 12, dick is 19, its been a year since tim got here, bruce has met cass and they’re not at adopting n fostering yet, but she helps the bat and is slowly trusting him,,,,,

so yeah he got dick tim and jason and its on a public place n the jokers like ooooo should i break the little one ? or the first son ? or maybe the dirty alley cat ? n when joker stops before his brother jason is shifted and growling and it puts a target on his back,,,, joker keeps laughing while hurting him, someone shoots a dart that makes his nerves and pain sensors flare up and he cant move and the joker hits him w a good ol crowbar and some electric shock is also done to him, n dick is unconscious (he tried to fight his way to jason but got knocked out), n tim is crying n screaming for it to stop, n at some point jason stops responding n the joker does a little speech n tim can see that jason is still awake and looking at them n he knows something is going to happen and the second the joker comes closer jason bites him and draws blood and more goons approach and jason rips some limbs until the police gets there and bruce is there too n yea, they freed tim n dick n tim is holding hyena jason whos maw is full of blood and he’s whispering soothing things and hes shifting back to humans when his restraints are cut off and he looks so small and everything is wrong,,,,

everyone gets therapy and care and tim makes it a point to show jason that what he did didnt scare him and that he’s not afraid of jason,,, after the event, the next nmorning he wakes up w a white streak of hair out of stress,,,, he flinches whenever he hears someone laughing loudly and he cant listen to his hyena laugh anymore,,,,, this is Def when harley and her hyena Enter and help jason heal in a way :0c !

#shifter au #ask me #violence tw #boarcide

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misssquidtracy · 4 years

Text

SOS Part 3

So I grabbed the whump bat last night, took aim at my boi’s head, then proceeded to wallop him into the exosphere like the kickass cricket player I’m most certainly not. If you happen to see a moving star tonight, chances are it’ll be Gordon completing his first orbit, not a wayward satellite.

-x-

‘Gordon, you’ve activated your emergency code….Gordon? Gordon!’

Gordon stirred feebly, his head screaming in protest when he tried to raise it to follow his brother’s voice. He could hear movement outside what remained of Thunderbird Four, but knew he was in no condition to investigate the source.

Everything hurt so much.

Cracking an eye open, he spied Fuse retreating back to the Chaos Cruiser, Braman in his arms. Underwater distance distortion made separating one fuzzy shape from another hard, but the aquanaut possessed just enough visual strength to make out Havoc staring down at him from the safety of the cockpit.

She was smirking at him.

The coldness behind those blue eyes, so different yet so similar to Alan and Scott’s, filled Gordon with hopelessness. He was critically injured and had never so much as raised an eyebrow at Havoc or her brother, yet knew neither of them were going to lift a finger to help him.

Hopelessness turned to quiet despair when the Chaos Cruiser turned and began to make its way toward the surface. Using every ounce of willpower he possessed, Gordon managed to crack his eye open again, only to be met with pitch blackness. With the Chaos Cruiser’s spotlights gone, he was reminded of exactly how dark and isolated the seafloor really was.

He hoped he’d get to see his brother’s faces again. The way Scott frowned at him in concern if he left for a rescue without eating breakfast. The way Virgil smiled indulgently at him whenever he tested out a new joke. The way John sighed and shook his head at him when he asked if denial was a nice river in Egypt. The way Alan gawped at him in silent adoration every time he pulled a successful prank on one of their older brothers.

It would be nice to see Brains, Kayo, Penelope and Grandma again as well. Despite bearing no relation to the first three, Gordon considered them family and had fond memories attached to all of them. The way Brains chastised him every time he brought a pod or Thunderbird Four back in less than mint condition. The way Kayo smartassed him if he ever made tasteless jokes about her being Scott’s girlfriend. The way Penelope tutted at him whenever he requested iced tea instead of ‘proper’ tea. The way Grandma fussed over him on his rare down days.

Yes, he’d like to see them all again.

-x-

A familiar voice roused Gordon from the depths of unconsciousness.

If possible, everything hurt even worse than before. He was vaguely aware of water entering the demolished remains of Thunderbird Four’s cockpit and gave himself a mental pat on the back for having the forethought to put his helmet on. At least drowning wasn’t a threat.

The unbearable pain in his head, neck, left arm and right leg definitely was, though. His suit didn’t feel like it was torn anywhere, but he was fairly certain he'd broken at least two major bones.

Opening his eyes was far too much effort. Plus, doing so would confirm his worst fear; that he was still trapped in the dark, cold, terrifying carcass of his beloved yellow submarine.

Maybe his brothers hadn’t picked up his SOS. Thunderbird Four’s systems were damaged beyond recognition, and his comm device was equally redundant.

��Gordon? This is your brother, John. I need you to sit tight, help is on the way.”

Gordon stirred in response to the voice that had dragged him back to a state of semi-consciousness. He tried to say his brother’s name, but lacked the strength. The pain in his neck was starting to make him feel sick.

“Virgil, Scott and Alan have just left Tracy Island. Their ETA is approximately six and a half minutes. I’m going to stay with you until they arrive, okay? You don’t have to answer, but know that you’re not alone anymore.”

A stray tear leaked out of an eye that still refused to open.

“I’m not getting any vitals from your suit, so can’t say for certain what shape you’re in,” John continued, his voice calm and soothing, “But I promise that we’ll get you out in one piece. I’m half hoping we’ll have to shave your head, then maybe I can be the one making fun of you for a change.”

Another tear leaked out.

“Hey, do you remember that donkey mom adopted?” John gave a laugh that sounded genuine and forced at the same time, “You were very young, so may not remember. We called him Brandy because of the way he weaved like a drunk whenever he came to the gate. He was a working animal from a neighbouring farm who ended up at the local auction house when he couldn’t plough in straight lines anymore. His owners couldn’t afford basic farm machinery and were ineligible for a government grant, so were in no position to get him veterinary treatment. Mom felt sorry for him, so bid on him as a companion for Apollo, who was dad’s horse at the time. Mom used to sit you on him and lead you around the paddock. Well, I say lead…poor Brandy was so wonky he usually just ended up dragging mom diagonally across the field, but you loved it. He died of a colic complication right before Alan was born, but we told you he’d gone to live with a wild donkey herd on Carrot Mountain instead.”

Two more tears managed to escape before John’s voice faded and nothingness descended once again.

“It’s okay, Gordon. I’m here.”

-x-

His head was resting on something soft and sweet-smelling.

“Hurry, Parker! Please.”

Penelope reminded him of a swan; beautiful yet dangerous. He wondered if she liked the colour yellow as much as he did.

More nothingness.

-x-

Gordon’s next brush with consciousness wasn’t pleasant.

He was being carried, which meant he wasn’t underwater anymore. Whoever was carrying him smelt familiar and was cradling him in a firm yet gentle grip. He hoped it was Penelope, but knew it was probably Scott or Virgil.

“…multiple broken bones, severe whiplash, moderate head trauma.”

John was around as well, though Gordon couldn’t tell if his presence was physical or holographic. The voices he could hear were hurting his ears.

“….Chaos Cruiser sighted three miles northwest. I recommend immediate evasion.”

Gordon suddenly saw Havoc’s cold smirk imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

She’d wanted him dead.

Even after all the lives he’d saved, someone had wanted (and presumably still wanted) him dead.

The thought terrified him.

“Whoa, Gordon!” Scott cried, tightening his hold when the aquanaut suddenly began to thrash in fear, “Easy! You’re safe now!”

Gordon didn’t think he’d ever feel safe again. Ignoring the agony brought on by his shredded muscles and shattered bones, he began to spasm and jerk in Scott’s arms, his caramel eyes wide his fear.

“Virgil!” Scott yelled, swearing loudly when he almost dropped his crippled brother onto the floor, “A little help!”

Two sets of hands were suddenly restraining him. One yanked his helmet off so that he could breathe unencumbered, but the rush of cool air to the face only served to worsen his frenzied writhing. A bolt of unimaginable pain shot up his spine and exploded at the base of his skull, making his vision swim.

Hurk, hurk.

“Virg, you need to back off,” Scott suddenly instructed, his tone offering no room for negotiation as he lowered Gordon’s lower half onto the floor and propped his torso up against his knee, “He’s going to be sick.”

“Won’t he choke?” came Alan’s frightened voice.

“Not so long as he’s sat upright,” Scott replied, patting Gordon gently on the back when the aquanaut began to hyperventilate, “I’m more worried about what he’s doing to his existing injuries in this state. We need to calm him down somehow.”

“There are handcuffs and some olanzapine in the first aid kit,” Virgil yelled from Thunderbird Two’s cockpit, “Restrain him and give him a 10mg intramuscular shot after his stomach has settled. That should calm him down.”

Poor Scott was powerless to do anything as his second youngest brother proceeded to puke all over him. Granted, he’d had people throw up on him before (they all had), but this time was different. Gordon’s condition made movement impossible and Scott was acutely aware that the stress of vomiting was making the aquanaut’s pulse erratic.

“I’ve got you,” Scott reassured, rubbing his brother’s back, only to recoil in horror when his hand travelled too far north, the resultant pressure causing Gordon to scream in agony.

The next ten seconds passed in a blur of pain glazed stupor. Scott yelled something at Virgil. Virgil yelled something at Alan. Alan panicked and began to cry. John yelled something at Virgil. Virgil swore and abandoned his post in Thunderbird Two’s cockpit to fetch something from the medical bay. Scott took whatever Virgil had found and stabbed it through Gordon’s suit and into his bicep, apologising quietly as he depressed the plunger.

In the background, a familiar British accent cut through the mayhem.

“Oh, Gordon.”

-x-

Gordon’s eyes fluttered open.

White. Everywhere was white.

His left arm was shrouded by a sling.

The floor was white.

His right leg was encased in a cast.

The curtains were white.

His head was concealed by bandages.

The walls were white.

His right arm was hooked to an IV.

The lab coat on the kind looking lady studying his heartrate monitor was white.

White had always been Gordon’s least favourite colour, but not anymore. He had a sudden newfound hatred for the colour purple.

Specifically, the shade of Havoc’s armour.

Luckily, the flowers on his bedside table were yellow.

-x-

Gordon’s first week in intensive care was not smooth.

Nightmares plagued him every time sleep beckoned, images of dark water, purple armour and cold smirks tormenting him as he sought relief from the pain of his battered body.

Scott rarely left his side and asked the nurses to take shifts so that one was always in the room. They’d been happy to oblige, but had been less happy with Scott’s habit of falling asleep next to his brother’s bed.

Virgil took over the running of International Rescue while Scott stayed in the hospital. John answered distress calls that necessitated the use of Thunderbird One and Alan covered space monitor duty when his redheaded brother was earthbound. Sally channelled her worry into cooking and freezing enough homecooked dinners to fill Thunderbird Three’s cargo bay, while Kayo took out her fury on her kickboxing dummy.

Scott was strict on visitors, mainly because Gordon tended to get emotional when he received them. Virgil visited every day with supplies for Scott. John came in every second day with bags full of Gordon’s favourite snacks. Penelope visited whenever her schedule permitted (which was quite often) and offered Sherbert as a form of pet therapy. Kayo and Sally took their turns after Virgil departed, their arms laden with homecooked culinary disasters and bunches of fresh hibiscus flowers from Tracy Island’s beach.

Alan wasn’t allowed to visit. His first proper time seeing Gordon had been three days after the aquanaut had been admitted. He’d landed the Helipod in the hospital’s car park, retrieved the stack of magazines he knew Gordon enjoyed reading from the backseat, asked a nice nurse for directions, found the correct room and pushed open the door, only to be met with the sight of his usually cheery brother having a full blown panic attack.

“OUT!” Scott had bellowed, releasing his hold on Gordon’s forearms to shove Alan back into the hallway. In the temporary absence of his oldest brother, it had taken the combined effort of two nurses to keep Gordon in bed.

Scott’s insistence that Alan not see Gordon for a bit was an exercise in futility, considering Alan had seen and heard everything in his brief six second visit. The youngest had received a tongue-lashing that was both unfair and unjustified, but he’d given Scott a free pass. The eldest Tracy was under a considerable amount of stress, which was further compounded by the late night vigils he held in a bid to alleviate Gordon’s night terrors.

It was two weeks before Alan learnt, second-hand from Virgil, about Gordon’s newfound fear of the Chaos Crew, specifically Havoc.

Unfortunately, it was another four weeks before Gordon recovered enough to tell them the reason for his fear.

Rage was an incredibly rare emotion to witness in the aquanaut, but when it happened, the world and his wife knew about it.

A common misconception outside of International Rescue was that it’s youngest operatives relied on their older brothers for protection. While Gordon wasn’t adverse to Scott or Virgil defending his honour, he could be quite the formidable foe when sufficiently provoked.

As Havoc would soon find out.

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

I’m No One’s Princess (1/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You catch Dick’s eye at one of the infamous Wayne Galas, things took a turn and now he needs to find you. Warnings: The usuals Word Count: 1.0k A/N: I got so many requests once I officially said they were open, so I’m working on them! I’ve been in a work meeting all week, but next week is free and clear and for writing...stay tuned!

Part Two Part Three

“Alright, who the hell is that?” Dick pointed towards you, as you spun around on the dance floor.

Jason glanced over at you, “You have no shot pretty-boy.”

“You could just go ask.” Jason threw an arm around Tim as he tried to explain logic to his older brother.

“But doesn’t that just take the fun out of it.” Jason countered.

“Nope!” Dick exclaimed as he made his way over to you, tapping on the shoulder of your dance partner. “Mind if I cut in?”

Reluctantly the man gave up his position and Dick took your hand in his.

“Do I know you?”

“Afraid not Mr. Grayson.”

“Oh, but I see you know me.”

“Well, how could one not? The infamous Richard John Grayson. The circus boy adopted by the illustrious Bruce Wayne.”

Dick looked at you curiously. “Seems we are on uneven ground then, care to level the playing field?”

“Not particularly.” You spun from his grasp and wandered out to the balcony, Dick following closely behind you.

“Alright then, Cinderella, how about what you do?” Dick questioned as he leaned against the balcony beside you. You gazed out into the gardens below.

The nickname struck a little too close to home, but you shrugged it off. “Hm, what a question. Well, I sing, occasionally dance a little, paint here and there, bake when I’m feeling in a certain mood.”

“So many talents.”

“Talents are boring. I just do things that make me happy and damn the rest.”

“Sounds like the perfect way to live.”

“Oh, darling, I’m far from perfect. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Please let it be your name.”

You let out a giggle, “’fraid not my dear. But I will tell you, I’m not suppose to be here in the slightest.”

“Is that why you won’t reveal your name? Because I can assure you, I won’t let anyone kick you out.”

“More like so I can pretend to be who I wish I was. Oh, and to avoid certain people at this gala. Thankfully the theme was apt for such.”

“Unfortunately, it keeps me from seeing your entire face. You did pick quite an elaborate mask.”

You smirked, “All things have a purpose.”

Dick raised his hands to the edge of your mask, and you weren’t sure you wanted to stop him. But before his hands began to lift it from your face, Dick spun around as a large group of masked and armed men entered the room. He turned back to you, but you were already gone. Leaning over he watched as you raced into the garden, not daring to look back. Just as he was about to leap over the railing and chase after you, Jason called out.

“Dick!” Jason raced over and whispered, “the old man is creating a distraction. We gotta go now.” Dick glanced over his shoulder to where you had been before. He let out a sigh and began trailing behind his brother.

How could they have possibly found me. Your thoughts were running wild as you ran through the garden, shoes in tow. Once you were far enough away, you threw your head back over your shoulder to ensure no one followed you. That was when you collided with a rhinoceros of a man and wound up lying flat on your back.

“Heh, looks like the princess came to us.” He reached down and ripped the mask from your face. “Yup, this is her.” He threw the mask on the ground and grabbed you by the waist, tossing you over his shoulder. You kicked into his chest and thrust your elbows into the back of his head, though he seemed unfazed as he threw you into the back of a black van. Just then a costumed figure caught the corner of your eye, colors that you recognized.

“NIGHTWING!” Then you watched as a fist came barreling towards you until black covered your vision.

Dick chased after his brothers, stopping short when he heard his name. At least he thought he did, all he saw was a black van pulling away from the driveway. A black van with no license plates…Dick knew something didn’t add up, but he had to go join his brothers – who were already inside the gala. Stumbling in the door, Dick noticed majority of the masked men were running away. Only a few laid unconscious on the ground. He turned to Jason.

“What happened?”

“They started bolting for the exits before we even made it in the door.”

Dick glanced around and saw one headed towards the balcony. He raced over and tackled the man to the ground. “Who sent you?”

“…”

“I can make this very unpleasant for you.”

“Better to be in jail alive, than dead out there if I told you anything!”

Dick was growing frustrated, “So don’t tell names, just why you guys are leaving.”

The man contemplated his words, before mumbling out, “Boss got what he wanted.”

Dick huffed and threw a punch, knocking the man out cold. “More like who he wanted.” Dick realized that he had heard someone scream his name, and that someone was just abducted by this man’s boss. His eyes searched for his younger brother. “Red Robin, I need you. Hood and Robin have got this.” Tim nodded and followed behind him, over the balcony and into the garden. The two walked around until Dick stopped in his tracks, seeing a gold glimmer in the distance. No. It can’t be. He darted over and found your mask on the ground.

Tim stalked up behind him and recognized it immediately, “That was the girl’s.”

Dick let out a deep sigh, “Yeah.”

“You didn’t get her name.”

“Nope.”

“Alright, let’s head back and you can tell me everything. I’ll find her.”

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #tim drake x reader #tim drake #tim drake imagine #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #batboys #batboys x reader #batboys imagine

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theballadear · 3 years

Text

Over the Garden Wall AU Alchemy Bros!!!

Hey!!! So this is high key long. I got pretty carried away but like ENJOY!!!

So clearly Varian is Wirt and Hugo is Greg

Hugo was adopted by Ulla and Quirin

Also like this is taking place in the same time as OTGW cause the 80s slap and I’d kill to see 1980s Alchemy Bros

So like Varian and Hugo were having a cute Halloween

Hugo was like “Let’s trick or treat!” but Varian was like, “Nah, I wanna ask this girl out.”

Hugo has a rock pun rock instead of facts

Sara is Vex cause I MAKE THE RULES

So like they go to a freaking cemetery cause Vex would-

Hugo is like spooked like “woAh bro bro, this is most non triumphant-”

And Varian is all “Cool it. I wanna ask her out.”

I’m keeping Jason Thunderburger cause I really can’t think of anyone who can live up to the man of legend

But like the group Vex is with clowns Varian cause they’re all “Oh he needs his big brother to chaperone him lol”

But OOP! The police show up cause like it’s high key concerning when a group of teens are at the cemetery

So like run time but like Varian and Hugo jump the freaking cemetery wall

They land on train tracks

Hugo finds a mouse in the bushes he landed in and tries to make a joke out of everything that happened

Bad idea-

Varian screams about how he feels neglected ever since Hugo came and how Ulla and Quirin are HIS parents not Hugo’s

Hugo: Oh, I’m sorry I’m such an inconvenience….

Hugo: I’ll leave…

Then they hear a train coming and Hugo pushed he and Varian into the water and they just-

Fall

Into the water

Unconscious

NOW HERE’S WHERE THE FUN BEGINS

They enter ‘The Unknown’

And Varian starts panicking and Hugo’s like “hehe I haz mouse”

Hugo does the whole thing of “Idk what to name it?”

So like then they see this woodsman but the woodsman is just Alec thinking he has the soul of his wife in there

So Alec’s all “BEWARE OF DONELLA!”

The Beast is Donella cause she totally would

So then the mill thing happens yada yada.

Then like the meet a talking blue bird, who’s just Belle cause the vibes

And Belle’s all “Hey I can take you guys to Cyrus the Good Man of the Woods”

And Varian and Hugo are like “Seems legit”

Then the pumpkin thing happens yada yada

So they find this school of animals

And Rapunzel is Ms. Langtree cause THE VIBES

Also they both had cruddy fathers, OOOP! Except the OTGW Dad is way better OOOOOP!

Jimmy Brown is Eugene cause it’s cute

Same thing happens yada yada

Okay but the Highwayman is that guard dude that apparently guards everywhere

Random Tavern Dude: Marriage?

Varian: nO-

Hugo: Lol, Varian’s in loooovvveeeeee.

Then like they steal a horse but it’s a talking horse and it’s just Jackie cause V I B E S

So then like they come across this mansion but it’s Hector-

Then like the blue lady is just some random person cause I don’t ship Hector with anyone tbh

ANYWAYS

All that plot happens yada yada

B O N D I N G

Yes, I am going fast to get to the angst

So like they’re on this ferry and like they sneak on to get to Cryus cause Cryus can send them back where they came from

Instead of Frog’s they’re mice

So like they bout to get caught

So they hide with the band

But OH NO!

The organist was flung over board

Belle: Can’t you play piano???

Varian: Uhhhhh

So like Varian play’s piano for a bunch of mouse

Then Hugo’s mouse just starts singing

AT NIGHT WHEN THE LAKE IS A MIRROR!

So then they make it to their destination

Hugo is pretty bummed because his mouse is being convinced to sign a record label with the other mece

Hugo: Ya done good Mr. President, ya done good.

Then like Belle is laying awake cause she knows she’s sending Varian and Hugo to their doom cause like she wanted the scissors to save her and her family from being birds

She flies to Cyrus and is all “The deal is off”

And Cyrus is like “mhm, yeah right.”

Then like Varian and Hugo follow her and

Varian: We trusted you-

Varian: We-we TRUSTED YOU!

Hugo: Belle…?

Belle kills Cyrus to save them because she got attached

Varian: Come on, Hugo we’re leaving-

Hugo: But didn’t Belle help us?

Varian: Can you please just listen to me for once?!?!

So Belle’s alone and Varian took the scissors out of spite

Then like, they run into Alec again

Then they run AWAY from Alec again

Then they find this cottage

And there’s this girl who we’re gonna say is Catalina

And like Lance is taking the role of Auntie Whispers

LIKE SHIPS IS NOT SUNG HERE HON

They kinda just become buds

Then like Catalina transforms into a wolf and tries to eat them

But Hugo’s mouse ate the bell

Hugo: THE RINGING OF THE BELL COMPELS YOU TO GET OUT OF POOR CATALINA!!!!

So then the evil spirit leaves Catalina and happy times!

Varian and Hugo sail down a lake

Varian is losing hope while Hugo is still trying to have optimism

They reach land and sleep for the night

Hugo has this dream of a cloud city and fights an evil wind cloud

The Queen of the Clouds rewards him with a wish and Hugo is like “I just want to go home with my little brother, ma’am.”

But the queen tells him that Varian has already been claimed by Donella

So Hugo asks to take his place instead

So Hugo is taken by Donella and Varian wakes up to find Hugo following Donella

Varian runs after then but falls through ice and almost drowns until Belle saves him

Varian wakes up to find himself in a nest with Belle’s bird family he thanks them then leaves to find Hugo

But Belle was already on the job

She sees him perform meaningless tasks for Donella

Then a strong wind gushes her away and knocks her into Varian

Alec uses up what little Edelwood he had left then comes across Hugo being turned into an Edelwood Tree

Alec tries to free him (long shot I know but p l o t) and fights off Donella

Varian and Belle arrive as Alec disappears

Hugo hands Varian his rock pun rock and asks him to put it back in Mrs. Arianna’s garden cause he stole it

Varian: No no no! You can give it back to her yourself. I’m going to get you out of this. I promise.

Varian: Look! I have your mouse, cheese. Just please stay with me, Hugo. Please.

Suddenly Donella appears offering to keep Hugo's soul alive inside the lantern in exchange for Varian taking over the duties in keeping it lit

Varian considers this then refuses saying that it was stupid cause the lanter held Donella’s soul

Varian free’s Hugo and asks Belle to come with them but Belle refuses and says she’s going to just stay with her family as a bird but Varian hands her the scissors

Then Alec, outraged that Donella had lied to him extinguishes the lantern and kills Donella

Varian and Belle say goodbye

Then boom

Varian wakes up sinking in the lake he see’s Hugo and swims them both to safety passing out when everyone and the police show up

Then they wake up at the hospital and alls well ends well

FIN

@alchemy-bros-appreciation-week

#alchemy bros #alchemy bros week 2020 #varian and the 7k #varian #hugo the human

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venmomejoy · 4 years

Text

The Lucky Ones

Idk if this has been done before but it's an actors au! All characters and relative plot belong to Nora Sakavic!!

Read it on Ao3 here

part two / part three / part four

Neil would never get used to the attention. The small amount of fame afforded to him as the lead character in the small town's production of Hamlet was stifling.

For him, it was instinctive to duck, to hide, to run at the first sign of recognition. Making himself unnoticeable was a habit beaten into him in childhood, his mother's fists compelling him into inconspicuousness when her warnings could not. Her lessons lingered in his mind even months after her death, urging him to grab the first ride away from here he can find and run every time he stepped onto the stage. He could almost hear her screaming at him, almost feel her phantom fists as she punished him for disobeying her. She had made him promise he would never act again, and he had broken his word.

If this even counted as acting. Theater was fine, but Neil longed for the screen. He had tasted screen acting as a child and fallen in love with it, and no matter how she tried, his mother could never entirely curb his craving. She would beat him black and blue every time she caught him taking a second look at a poster for a new movie or lingering when he heard people discussing a favorite show, but he could not help himself.

He hadn't planned on acting again, but when his mother died, he had felt stranded. He didn't know how to go on without her. Through all the years of running, of moving to a new city every few weeks, of fake names and boxes of hair dye, she had at least always been with him. Now that she was gone, he was entirely alone, and he did not know how to do it by himself. He found this town, got a new ID, and let himself drift. He knew it was stupid and reckless and all kinds of dangerous, but the acting was the only thing that felt real. So he let himself stay here for a few months, let himself audition for the play, let himself stand in front of the crowd and be seen. He promised himself he would be gone as soon as the show closed.

He hadn't anticipated that day coming so quickly. Despair started to creep in; he wasn't sure he was ready to let go of Neil Josten quite yet, although it seemed he had no choice. Tonight was the final showing, and all of the seats were full, although there couldn't have been more than fifty. Neil knew that most people in the audience had probably already seen the show- nearly all of them came to see family members perform or to "support the community"- but it still didn't lessen his nerves. He scanned the crowd for the tenth time, checking for any familiar faces, any sign he needed to bolt to the nearest exit. His father and his men hadn't caught up to him since they killed his mother, but that doesn't mean he is in the clear, especially since he's stayed here far too long. Yes, a move was overdue.

Neil let himself get lost in the performance, immersing himself in someone else's life, someone else's story. His eyes still constantly flicked to the wings, to the crowd, to the catwalks, anywhere someone could be concealed, waiting to catch him off guard, but he let his brain shut off beyond the basic actions to confirm his safety, so customary they hardly took a second thought. Adrenaline thrums through his veins as he recites his lines, as he contorts his features into rage and despair and grief. He morphs himself into his character, allowing himself a reprieve from existing inside his own mind for a few hours.

The performance ends far too soon. As Neil runs out for his bow, the cheers rise to screams. He knows he is a good actor, if a little out of practice. He smiles, taking it all in for the last time. He knows he won't be acting again. He already took too big of a risk by staying here this long.

Neil can't bear to see the set torn down, the theater cleaned and closed, so instead he sits in the dressing room, waiting for everyone else to leave so he can change out of his costume. The brutal scars marring his chest would draw too much concern, so every night he waited until the cast cleared out before changing into his street clothes. Some of his castmates tried to make idle conversation with him, but most knew he was not much of a talker and leave him alone. He watches them all leave, a couple inviting him to some sort of afterparty, which he promptly declines. If going up on stage was stupid, going to an unfamiliar location and getting engulfed in a large crowd was even stupider.

When his last castmate left, Neil basked in the silence as he quickly changed and then waited for the crew to finish as well. He needed to shower and brush his teeth before he went back to the house he was squatting in, but he did not need anyone to know he was utilizing the theater's facilities. It would raise too many questions.

The sound of the door swinging open had Neil raising his head, eyes tracking his director's movements closely as he strode over to him.

"That was a great performance Neil, one of the best I've seen from you." He took a seat on the couch next to Neil, causing every muscle in his body to tense. His director was one of the most even-tempered people Neil had ever met, but he'd seen enough aggression from middle-aged men to not trust a seemingly calm demeanor.

"Thank you, Mr. Hernandez," he replied stiffly.

"Your talent is promising. Would you ever consider making a career in the arts?"

Neil just shrugged, casting his gaze to the floor. Telling Hernandez that acting was not an option for him would open up a can of worms that Neil could not afford. He couldn't tell him that he would be leaving first thing tomorrow, taking his meager belongings and heading to another state, becoming another person, so his best option was indifference.

"Well, maybe this will help you make up your mind. There's someone here who wants to talk to you."

Neil's eyes shot to Hernandez, alarm bells sounding in his head. This was his worst nightmare. He had been found, he had been found, he had been found-

He pulled his duffel bag over his shoulder as he stood, already making his way towards the nearest exit when someone cleared their throat loudly from behind him. It was too late.

Neil turned around, hands still gripping his bag as he stood poised to run, and met the eyes of the stranger. The man was tall, likely in his late thirties or early forties, with honed muscle visible where his arms were crossed over his chest. His face was hard, but his eyes were searching as he scanned Neil from head to toe. He was unfamiliar, but that didn't mean he was harmless. Perhaps his father had gotten a new lackey. "Who are you?" Neil asked.

"He's a director, Neil. He wants to recruit you," Hernandez said.

Neil scoffed. "Please, the population of this town is barely five hundred. No one recruits here."

"He sent out an open call, looking for someone to cast in his show. You fit the description pretty well, so I sent him some videos of you during rehearsals. He came to watch you tonight, to see if you were good enough for the show. I didn't mention it to you because I wasn't sure anything would come of it."

Neil couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't even seen anyone take any videos of him during rehearsals. His panic was steadily rising. "What?"

The man stepped forward, and Neil unconsciously stepped back. He noticed, his gaze hardening as he looked Neil over again, searching for something different this time. "I don't have time for this," the stranger said. "We start filming in three weeks, and the actor we had set up for this role fell through. You have talent, kid. All you have to do is sign the contract and your set for two seasons with us. If we get renewed again, likely more."

Neil did not know what to say, so he just stared at the man, assessing the sincerity of his offer. The director just stared back, unfazed by Neil's blatant scrutinization.

After moments of silence, the man sighed. "Look kid, The Foxes is a incredibly popular show. Signing with us could jumpstart your career.”

Deafening silence rings through Neil’s head as that name hit him. He thinks his heart has stopped beating. "You direct The Foxes."

The man- who he now recognizes as David Wymack- only nodded. Neil knew all about The Foxes. The first season of the show was a hot mess, barely scrounging up enough support to get renewed for a second season. But it did. And when esteemed actor Kevin Day joined the cast, the show started rising in popularity.

Kevin had been raised in Hollywood, adopted at a young age into the Moriyama family, one of the most powerful names in filmmaking. Tetsuji Moriyama was arguably the most famous director on the scene, so when he took in Kevin and his nephew Riko, he raised them to be formidable actors. The two were as close as brothers. Tetsuji gave Kevin and Riko small roles in his productions when they were children, and as they grew older, the two starred in almost all of his work. Most notably, the two were costars on Evermore, an immensely popular fantasy show. Riko played a young boy who was adapting to his new life as a vampire, while Kevin played his best friend, still a human, who helped him adjust. The show had a huge fanbase- it was easily the most popular show on television right now. But in the middle of filming the fourth season, Kevin and Riko vanished from the public eye. No one knew what had happened to them, what they were doing, but when they resurfaced, it was discovered that Kevin had shattered his hand in a stunt gone wrong. Tetsuji decided the show could not halt production to wait for Kevin to heal, and instead wrote him out of the rest of the season, saying he would return for the fifth season when he was fully recovered. Kevin all but disappeared, not saying or doing anything while he recovered. Until Kevin decided not to renew his contract. Two months ago, Kevin had announced that he would not be returning to Evermore, and was instead signing with Wymack on The Foxes. His fans were devastated. Many were angry at him, feeling betrayed at his leaving. Others were intrigued by this new project, his first apart from Riko. Either way, the move brought a lot of attention to The Foxes. Kevin not only brought a fanbase with him when he began the show, but he pushed his costars to work harder and hone their acting skills, making the following of the show grow exponentially.

Neil hadn't seen Kevin since he was ten years old. Neil had started acting lessons when he was four, had even been in a few small productions in his childhood. He assumed it was his father's attempt at getting him out of the house while he did his business, and Neil was happy to go- every time he was present during his father's dealings he ended up with a beating. One day, his father took him to rehearse with some kids. He had never met Kevin and Riko before, but Neil was happy to make some friends. He had never really been allowed to have any friends, so he was excited to finally have some kids to interact with. With the help of an older man who guided them, the three spent a few hours going over scenes, trying the lines with different emotions and figuring out how they all worked together on-screen. But their rehearsal was cut short when they were forced to watch Neil's father tear a man to ribbons. His mother had taken him and left the next morning.

There was no conceivable way Neil could accept Wymack's proposal. He had garnered too much attention as it is performing in a small town's theater production. The last thing he needed was his face to be broadcasted all over television, his name tacked on to a credit list. Beyond that, the media is up The Foxes's ass, what with Kevin on the cast. He cannot afford that kind of notoriety. His father would find him in an instant. And if Kevin recognized him? He could not risk Kevin giving him away.

"Please leave me alone," Neil said.

"We need to fly you out tomorrow if you're going to be halfway prepared when we start production. It would be best if you sign tonight," Wymack pushed.

"I'm not signing anything. I'm not working with you."

"Why?”

"I won't work with Kevin."

"Aw, hear that, Kev? The rookie doesn't like you," a sardonic voice drawled from behind him.

Every bone in his body seized at the implication of that statement. If Kevin was here-

He whirled around to meet the dark green eyes of Kevin Day. He was significantly taller than Neil, at least six-foot to his five-three, with a good fifty pounds of muscle over him. And he was blocking the only other exit. Neil had not noticed Hernandez leave the room until now, acutely aware of his compromised position. There was no way for him to escape. Neil just stared at his old friend, barely breathing as he waited for recognition to kick in, for the realization to dawn on him. But nothing came. Could it be possible Kevin didn't recognize him?

It made sense, he supposed. Neil had seen Kevin grow up, his face plastered on every magazine and television screen he saw, but Kevin had not seen Neil since he was a child. That, coupled with the brown hair dye and the brown colored contacts he wore may have been enough to slip under Kevin's radar.

"Jesus, Andrew, can't you be polite for ten minutes? We're trying to sign this kid and you're going to scare him off," Wymack's incensed voice sounded from behind him.

"Oh, come on, Wymack, he doesn't look like the type to be scared of little old me now does he?" Neil broke his stare with Kevin to look at his companion, only to find Andrew Minyard's eyes already boring into his own, a manic smile plastered on his face. He would have recognized the blond actor anywhere; he had made quite a stir in Hollywood.

Andrew was the first person to turn down a role with the Moriyama's. Riko and Kevin had found him, had seen his work in other projects and knew he had potential. When they approached him with a part on Evermore and a chance to join their little clique, they had never even considered he would say no. Working with Tetsuji was a straight shot to stardom. But Andrew instead signed a contract with Wymack, who had agreed to cast his twin brother Aaron and his cousin Nicky as well.

Neil turned back to Wymack. "I'm not signing anything. I'm leaving now."

"I'm going to let you reconsider." The first words Kevin spoke to Neil in eight years sent chills down his spine.

Neil turned towards him again. "I've already given you an answer."

"Why won't you sign?" Wymack questioned. "From what your directer said, you've got nothing keeping you here. In the three months he's known you, he said he's seen no friends, no family. Said your parents never answer his calls, something about them having a long commute to work, that they barely even see you. Why not join The Foxes?"

Neil couldn't very well tell him the truth, so he told him the first plausible lie his mind provided. "I'm not near good enough to work with Kevin. And I'm only used to stage acting, I don't know how to perform for television."

The first lie would have been reason enough, but the second one needed to be thrown in to keep his story believable. He had told Hernandez he had only done a few plays previously, not wanting to raise any suspicion. If Wymack had spoken to his director about him, he had likely been told this. And anyone who had only done a few plays would be concerned about switching to screen acting, so Neil played the part.

"Both unimportant," Kevin said. At Neil's surprised look he continued, "You may be inexperienced, but we saw your performance tonight. You have talent. Now stop wasting our time and sign the contract."

How had he missed Kevin Day in the audience? He must have been hiding in the back, trying to avoid being recognized by any fans. Still, the misstep unnerved Neil. "There are plenty of actors with talent who would be thrilled at this offer. Why not ask them?"

"Like I said, we've seen you perform. We knew you had talent from the videos your director sent us, but it's not just raw ability. You throw yourself into your role like it's all you have left. You don't just channel the emotions, you become the character. Actors with that kind of passion are rare, and are the only kind worth bothering with."

Neil couldn't stop the pull in his chest, begging him to accept, no matter how foolish an idea it was. He was not ready to give up acting, but pursuing it would bring him closer to the man he had spent his entire life running from. Signing with Wymack was as good as signing his death sentence. But it was a shot at living, at truly living for the first time in years. The acting was the only thing that felt solid now that his mother was gone, and he wasn't sure if he could survive without a tether.

If Kevin didn't recognize him, perhaps he could indulge himself, just for a little while. He didn't have to stay for the full two seasons; at the first sign of trouble, he'd run. Perhaps he could base his plan off of Kevin- at soon as Kevin started remembering, started asking questions, Neil would know it was time to go. Because if Kevin remembered, if he started digging into Neil's past, he would clue in the whole host of people after Neil on his whereabouts. If they didn't discover them on their own.

"An answer tonight, Josten." Wymack clicked the pen, holding it out to Neil in offering. Neil stared at the pen, every ounce of self-preservation screaming at him to be smart, to take his bag and get the hell out of this town, to blend back into the shadows. But another voice, a voice he had been repressing for far too long, was making itself heard: desire. Desire to act, desire to be settled somewhere, desire to be real.

He could always run. That's what he told himself as he took the pen from his new directors proffered hand. That what he told himself as he signed his name along the dotted line, the name of a person who didn't really exist, but was going to try to for as long as he could. That's what he told himself as he felt his throat closing in as he realized how he had disregarded everything his mother had worked for, died for, with the quick stroke of a pen.

"Perfect," Wymack said. "We'll pick you up here tomorrow so we can fly to L.A. and get started." Neil couldn't think of anything to say, so he stayed silent.

Kevin handed him a thick stack of paper with "The Foxes: season three, episode one" printed across the front. The script. "Start reading it now. We have a lot of catching up to do if you're going to be ready by the beginning of production."

With that, he strode from the room. Andrew followed him, stopping only to flash Neil that same grin, raising his hand in a two-fingered salute. Neil couldn't contain his eye roll.

After the two actors had left the room, Wymack held back for a moment. "You made the right choice, kid."

Neil almost laughed. If only he knew how wrong he was.

Notes: Hello everyone!! I’m not completely happy with this but I'm publishing it anyways because bad writing is better than no writing, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself :) I’m going to write more chapters on this fic, so I hope that someone likes it!!

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rollzerox · 4 years

Note

Omg Mal’s fic said that Zoe hadn’t had a make over so that means she probably hasn’t had one since JinAe. You two seem to be tag teaming the Jinae stories so can you write Jeaha giving morgan a make over?

Sure thing anon! Sorry this took me a while I’ve been kind of busy ^^; Just remember Morgan is @zenoobsessed ‘s ok everyone! This takes place a month after the one shot she did where Morgan cursed Jae-ha

How did she get talked into this? Morgan groaned as she was sitting in the chair, little Ryokuryuu Lina sitting in her lap making sure she couldn’t teleport away. It was just one slip up…. One little mention that she hadn’t had a makeover since Jin-ae and…

“Oh come on Morgan dear, you’ll look stunning when I’m done.” The former Ryokuryuu, Jae-ha hummed as he placed his comb in his teeth to hold together while brushing his fingers through the mage’s rat’s nest of hair. It was worse than Yona’s who often grumbled about unruly hair but Jae-ha insisted on wanting to this, after all he was utterly grateful this woman had saved his life a month ago by cursing him. In fact he had found out a lot about Morgan in that time, thanks to Zeno and Morgan’s own slip ups.

“So tell me more about this beautiful past life of mine.” Jae-ha hummed, taking the comb out of his mouth and working on her hair. “You said I was the queen and your adoptive daughter but what else? Zeno mentioned the first Ryokuryuu was my brother.”

“You were a mess.” Morgan chuckled, playing with Lina’s pigtails. “Always getting into trouble. And swung your axe around at anyone that ticked you off, took three grown men to hold you down since you’d get kidnapped every other week and most times by the time we went to rescue you, you already broke out and beat your kidnappers head’s in.”

Lina giggled. “Daddy sounds like he was silly as a girl!”

“You once walked in on an important meeting Hiryuu had with the nobles, sat on his lap and gave him a hickey right there.” Morgan snickered. “I thought Abi was going to have a heart attack.”

Jae-ha started laughing at that one. “Oh my, I so could see myself doing that to Yona dear. And I guess I couldn’t be a damsel in distress.”

“You got a little carried away and nicked me once with it, you wouldn’t stop apologizing over it.” Morgan shrugged, unconsciously rubbing at her shoulder.

Jae-ha frowned for a moment. “Oh I’m sorry dear, I’m sure I didn’t mean-“ he was cut off as Morgan placed a finger over his lips.

“I literally had a lifetime of you apologizing so don’t start.” She rolled her eyes.

The former Green Dragon smirked. “Mmmm I must have been cute apologizing for it.”

That made Morgan laugh. “You were adorable. Hiryuu couldn’t ever stay mad or frustrated at you.”

“The little miss still can’t get mad at her husband for long, even when he does stupid things.” Zeno said in passing, coming into the room of the inn they were staying in. “But then Hiryuu didn’t even get mad that time the queen and Shu-ten broke his crown.”

“Wait what?” Jae-ha snorted. “You gotta tell me this Zeno!”

Morgan groaned. “You stole all of Shu-ten’s beer and he decided to use the crown like a flipping frisbee throwing it at you.”

Lina giggled. “Uncle Zeno said before Ryokuryuu loooove to drink a lot!”

“Wasn’t my fault he didn’t hide it well.” Morgan shrugged. “But he totally thought I helped you find it with magic when really anyone could have found that easily it was a bad hiding spot.”

“Well he should have hidden it from his lovely sister better.” Jae-ha hummed, then stopped brushing at Morgan’s hair for a moment to think about what he just said when he saw the look on Zeno’s face. “Please don’t tell me I said that to him.”

The Ouryuu nodded. “You did and Shu-ten tried to hit you as you ran off with Lady Zoe.”

Morgan smiled at the memory. “Hm, he was always leaving someone on the roof of the castle. He had such a bad attitude.”

“Zeno seems to recall you two didn’t help.” Zeno replied rather deadpan.

“Jin-ae only got worse because he kept calling Hiryuu a dumbass and she didn’t like that.” Morgan shrugged.

“Well of course I wouldn't just stand by with a brother calling my lovely husband an idiot.” Jae-ha chuckled. “I imagine he only got away with that being a dragon and the queen's brother?”

Morgan nodded. “Hiryuu was pretty easygoing anyway. Forgave people easily and understood they made mistakes. About that time was when a lot of unrest and distrust for mages started surfacing. He really drew people to him and having a mage like me in his court and serving beside him, well. That eased tensions a little…. Until I answered that damn letter…” she looked down, suddenly going silent.

“Auntie….?” Lina looked up at her worried, the little girl had gotten so attached to the mage since she saved Jae-ha so Lina had come to start calling her auntie lately.

Jae-ha twisted his mouth, Morgan didn’t like to talk much about her darker parts of her past and he didn’t press… After all he was similar in that sense so the group didn’t press her or ask too many questions how or why she lost her core when they met, just that Yona insisted they help her find it especially after Morgan saved Jae-ha’s life. That’s why they were traveling to Awa to take a ship out to Morgan’s home country in hopes of finding said orb. He did know from Zeno there was a mage war after Hiryuu’s time and that Morgan could have been part of that, but the Yellow Dragon didn’t know all the details. “Well that’s all in the past, all we can do is move forward yes?” he hummed, still combing through her hair. “Now stay still as I make my finishing touches please.”

Morgan sighed, clutching Lina a bit tight now as she did stay still and stopped fidgeting as he continued to work on her. Jae-ha hummed a tune as he finished her hair, putting a clip in to hold it in place and stepping back to admire his handiwork. “I didn’t stay stiff as a board dear, really you didn’t have to take it to heart.” He chuckled. “All done, you can let Lina go now.”

Morgan just gave him a weak smile. “Just playing.” She released the little Ryokuryuu, petting her on the head. “So how do I look? Ridiculous right?”

Jae-ha snorted. “Whatever makes you say that?”

“Because as Jin-ae that’s exactly what you’d do, luckily you don’t have access to poofy dresses or else I’d be poured into one.” Morgan rolled her eyes.

“You could teach me how to get one here with magic.” Jae-ha hummed, his mischievous grin showing.

“Nope, I am so saving that lesson until I have to show you.” Morgan snickered, getting up onto her feet. “Because otherwise who knows what you’ll teleport to your side.”

“Oh? Maybe I’ll just tickle your mark until you scream.” Jae-ha grinned, brushing her hair to the side and focusing his hand right on that curse mark of hers, concentrating a tickle spell there that made her yelp, teleporting behind Lina and holding onto the little Ryokuryuu.

“Lina protect me from your daddy!” Morgan whined, still giggling from the tickle spell. She shook her head, laughing also at the fact Jae-ha used that old threat that Jin-ae used constantly when she wanted something or was trying to make Morgan sleep.

Lina giggled as she was held by the mage. “I’ll protect you auntie! I’m a dragon warrior after all!”

Jae-ha laughed. “Oohhh really? Look treasure! Grandma Yoon has rice balls!” he pointed off in a random direction.

“Oh? Zeno’s hungry!” Zeno looked up immediately.

“Silly daddy I won’t fall for that!” Lina stuck her tongue out at him.

Morgan’s stomach though growled reminding her she was reminded she hadn’t eaten in several days. “Maybe we should go check anyway huh Lina? We can go together.”

Yona right then had come running up. “Are you guys done? Lunch is ready!”

“Ooohhh just in time my darling.” Jae-ha hummed, picking up his wife and twirling around with her before laying a kiss on her lips. He had gotten twice as affectionate with Yona if that was even possible after getting new life in him. Thanking everyday for more time with his family since Morgan came into their lives. “Mmm maybe I should give you a makeover next as we plan the next baby…” he hummed as he put her down, rubbing her stomach that only had a small bump as of now.

“Later.” Yona bopped his nose before pulling away to come over to Morgan. “Sorry if he got carried away.”

“It’s ok, no worse than how he was as Jin-ae.” Morgan chuckled.

“Mommy I found this pretty flower out here in the woods earlier!” Lina cheered, holding up a snapdragon flower and smiled wide. “Auntie said this flower you used to call daddy back when you were Hiryuu!”

“Oh? Yona giggled. “That looks like a dragon flower, isn’t it?”

“Antirrhinum.” Morgan answered with a nod. “Lord Hiryuu had a thing with giving people nicknames after flowers. Mine was Amaryllis.”

“Such a beautiful nickname, you should use it sometime, princess of my heart.” Jae-ha purred into Yona’s ear from behind, sending a shudder through her body as she blushed.

“My memories are jumbled enough as it is.” Morgan made a face. “God you two are so like Jin and Hiryuu it’s scary, I mean it makes sense but seriously.”

“Well then maybe I should start calling you mom then!” Jae-ha purred, offering a hand to Morgan as they were heading back to their campfire. “Since you did adopt me in that past life you said.”

Morgan snorted. “You only called me mother whenever you wanted something or when you were in trouble.”

“More reason to make up for it!” Jae-ha hummed. “Besides I welcome it, never got the chance to call anyone that before.”

That made Morgan wilt, she had some idea about Jae-ha’s past but hearing about it made her heart ache. “… If you want to, just don’t be surprised if I start calling you Jin-ae then, sexy trouble.”

Jae-ha winked at her. “I more than welcome it, maybe we can get into some trouble together~”

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zenithlux · 4 years

Text

Cadence - CH 9

Welcome back everyone! I really hope you enjoy this update, and I’ll see you later for my second to last Hanami Week post!

Catch up on the story here!

In which Vergil meets Diadona, and learns a bit more about Roxy’s strange problem.

I can’t feel my senses I just feel the cold All colors seem to fade away I can’t reach my soul

Frozen - Within Temptation

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

In hindsight, Vergil’s thirty-minute timeline was more of a formality than an actual constraint. His trip to Fortuna took ten minutes tops, as he hadn’t even needed a portal to sneak by the two dozing security room guards in the train station. There were a decent amount of boxes, but finding her name was easy enough. Roxanna Montgomery. Had she ever mentioned a last name? Not that he could recall, but it did sound familiar…

He filed it away for later. Maybe Dante would know something.

But that would require talking to his brother about her. So… maybe not.

“Fighting” the Behemoths- if one could even call the slaughter such a thing - had taken even less time than retrieving the boxes. And, as expected, he’d absorbed their essence in the blink of an eye. That then led to thoughts on just how exactly this unknown demon woman planned to take it from him, which made him wonder what exactly he had gotten himself into.

But I don’t know who else to call.

Vergil sighed in resignation as he retrieved the boxes from the safety of the closest rooftop. Unfortunately, he’d never received the message with her address. He did remember a vague mention of it from a few weeks prior. Which might have been helpful, if there weren’t five different “haunted” apartment complexes in the area (honestly he didn’t know why humans in need of shelter couldn’t get over such a foolish notion). And without Roxy’s address, (what was taking her so long?) all he could do was wander between each of them, searching for the incredibly minuscule smell of Aki that would likely go the other direction because of the wind.

Wonderful.

Finally, he found it; the only apartment in all five complexes that had the lights on. Vergil blinked up the stairs with ease, balancing the boxes in one hand to knock.

“Come in, come in.” A voice said before he could. “We don’t have all day.”

Roxy’s apartment was larger than Vergil expected with a modest amount of furniture and a television that Dante would envy. The floors were made of light wood and partially covered with a dark blue rug decorated with intricate swirl patterns. The walls were painted a matching dark blue, but the numerous, brightly colored paintings and the wall of windows brightened the room considerably. Vergil might have examined it more, if Roxy wasn’t unconscious on the couch with Aki mewling in pure sadness on her lap.

“About time!”

Diadona was much shorter than he expected, with the top of her head barely reaching past his stomach. She was another elder demon for certain, though it was impossible to know exactly how old. Her human-self looked to be around 60 with short gray hair pulled back into an overly tight bun, glasses that she most certainly didn’t need, and far too many wrinkles. Vergil wondered if she always adopted this look, or if it was just a formality for Roxy’s sake. Which then led him to wonder what her actual…

“Did you kill the creatures?” The woman said, her voice sharp.

Vergil blinked, mind reeling back to where it was supposed to be. “Of course,” He said simply. “Now how do you intend to take it from me?”

The woman rolled her eyes as she pulled an absurdly long needle and syringe from her pocket. Of course, that pocket was far too small for something like that… so maybe she’d just made it on the spot. “The simple way, of course.” She said as she beckoned to him with spindly fingers that were a touch too inhuman. “I’ll take it right out of your bloodstream.”

Vergil’s eyebrow shot up. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

Dia huffed. “Why? Because you’re a big scary demon yourself? Please.” She beckoned again. “If anything, your blood will only make her stronger. A win-win, wouldn’t you say?”

Vergil didn’t have an answer to that. Foolish, was the first word that came to mind. What demon in their right mind would willingly give their blood to anyone, much less an archdemon? Or, more importantly, what demon would willingly give their blood to a summoner? He knew from limited research that was an easy first step into pact making. He could even sort of recall his mother mentioning it when he was much younger. Of course, it didn’t mean they were making one… but it opened up the possibility.

Whether it was his expression or his hesitation, Dia laughed. Except her human voice mixed with some strange cackle of a demon he couldn’t quite identify. A bug? Maybe. A dragon? Maybe. Some crazy, witch thing? A strong possibility.

Did it matter?

“Do you honestly think she’d force you into a pact?”

“What?”

“Even if she wanted to do such a thing, I don’t think her body could handle it.” She shook her head with an irritated click of her tongue. “Now are we going to keep standing around staring at each other, or are you going to let me heal her?”

Begrudgingly, Vergil rolled his sleeve up, glaring at the woman as he did so. It was a useless gesture, but at least it made him feel better. She just rolled her eyes again and grabbed his wrist. Except he sorely underestimated the strength in such a small body, and nearly fell flat on his face when she yanked him closer. “Hold still,” She snapped before muttering something in a language he didn’t understand. He did, however, know it wasn’t anything helpful.

But then his eyes flickered to Roxy, and any response he might have had vanished in an instant. She was so… pale. Had she been that pale when he walked in? Was she breathing? She had to be… right? Aki was still there - the poor creature was butting the top of his head on her chin over and over again - so she was alive. But…

“She’s close to stasis,” Dia said, her voice filled with nothing but worry. “This happens from time to time. She usually has a caretaker around but…” Her expression turned sour. “Let’s just say I’m glad she was able to call me in time.”

“Stasis?”

Dia nodded as she tied a small piece of fabric above his elbow. “How much has she told you?”

“Nothing about this.”

Dia sighed. “This should be her story… but…” She glanced back at Roxy. “This is what she refers to as an ‘episode’” Dia turned her attention to his arm, searching for a vein. “I call it stasis because that’s what it is.” She grumbled something under her breath, but all he could pick up on was “humans” and “avoiding the problem”. “Nothing can prevent it, but she needs demon essence to recover. If she were by herself, then she would have to stay like that until her body recovered naturally.”

“How long does that take?”

Dia shrugged. “The longest I’ve seen is three months.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Three months?”

“I broke her out of that one too,” Dia said. “Hold still.”

He hadn’t even noticed the needle pierce his skin. “Her last caretaker quit, right?”

“Taylor?” Dia’s scowl turned murderous. “I never liked that woman. Flighty. Greedy. Did you know she convinced Roxy to pay for years of medical bills in exchange for her help?” Vergil wasn’t certain why Dia thought he would ever know something like that, but she continued on anyway. “Then she left her stranded, less than a month from stasis, because she needed something more ‘stable’ and ‘predictable’.” Dia huffed as she practically ripped the needle from his arm. It healed in an instant, but how she knew it would (or if she even cared) was beyond him. “Come here before I wake her up,” She said. “I’ll apologize to her for talking to you later.”

After a small, almost curious step, Vergil realized that Roxy’s skin wasn’t pale; it was frozen. His mind raced through memories of V, trying to piece together what could possibly be happening. The closest connection was his crumbling body, but that hadn’t been linked to the familiars. Though he’d argue that none of them even compared to Kuro. Nightmare had been a mostly mindless conglomerate he could summon from time to time. Griffon and Shadow were more like Aki; small familiars that didn’t require much. But Kuro...

Was this the price she had paid for such a creature?

“Stasis,” Dia repeated. “If left unattended, the ice will imprison her. Then there’s nothing I can do,” She gently pulled Roxy’s arm from under the blanket, turning it over in her hand as if handling the most fragile glass imaginable. And maybe she was. Vergil didn’t want to think what would happen if she moved too quickly… or if Roxy herself were found or handled too roughly… or if she was left alone for too long...

He shoved those thoughts aside. Why bother worrying when Dia clearly had things under control? He barely knew her. He shouldn’t be concerned about such things. He...

His mental image of Griffon snorted in pure disdain. And you think I’m the moron.

After resting Roxy’s arm back on the armrest, Dia tapped it gently with the tip of her finger. A quiet crack echoed in the room. Another tap. Another crack. The process was agonizingly slow, but Dia continued on. By the fifth tap, a thin layer of ice broke away, shattering to dust on the ground. Vergil swore he heard a quiet gasp, but he wasn’t certain. Aki pushed his head against Roxy’s cheek. That time, he didn’t pull away, and a sad chirp echoed in Vergil’s ears as if the little griffon had proclaimed it from the heavens.

It was then that Vergil wondered if Roxy was aware of it. She left her stranded a month from stasis, Dia had said. So Roxy must have known about it. But if she did… why didn’t she tell him? Sure, he wouldn’t have been much help over the last few days, but Dante would have taken a job like that in an instant. “Gather up some demon bodies?” Dante would have probably said. “You’ve got it! I’ll drop them at your doorstep tomorrow.” His brother wasn’t really one to ask questions over such a thing (even though he probably should… but that wasn't the point).

What would something like this feel like? What would any of this feel like? Was she awake? Trapped in her body until it knocked her out? Did she know time was moving? Or was she asleep, trapped in some kind of dream?

Did she feel… anything at all?

Did he even want to know?

“Hold on, Rox,” Dia whispered. “You’ll be out of this soon.”

The world seemed to go silent as the needle punctured her skin. The noises from the town slipped away. Dia went impossibly still, and Vergil was certain she’d stopped breathing all together. The blood left the syringe slowly, but Vergil could see trails of ice branching back down Roxy’s arm in a rush to close the hole Dia had made. And when the blood was gone and Dia pulled away, the ice snapped closed again. More slipped over her cheeks. Lines of blue magic scattered in all directions.

Was he too late? Was it not enough? Was…?

Then, Roxy’s eyes snapped open. A single gasp of air was all it took for the world to come back. Ice shattered in all directions, vanishing into the air as if it had never existed. She jerked upright in a panic as her hand flew to her chest. Aki tumbled to the floor, but the flustered noise he made was twinged with a chirp of what Vergil assumed was relief. Roxy’s eyes flickered a pale blue. Kuro’s, Vergil realized. So she could channel the dragon’s power without summoning him… but maybe not willingly.

“It’s alright, Rox,” Dia said as her hand cradled the younger summoner. Roxy’s gaze snapped to hers, and her heartbeat quickened to an unnatural level. But Dia only smiled, rubbing her now entirely human thumbs along Roxy’s skin. “Everything’s fine, you hear me?” And while Roxy said nothing, Vergil heard her breathing slow. Her eyes drifted closed as she squeezed Dia’s hand. When she opened them again, her heart was steady and her eyes were back to their usual green hue.

“That was faster than I expected,” Roxy said. “I thought I had… a little more time.” She sighed as her gaze flickered to Vergil. “Less than thirty minutes…” She said, and Vergil wasn’t certain if she was talking about him, or her stasis. It probably didn’t matter. At least, not at the moment.

“I’m sorry you had to see this.”

Vergil stared at her. A million different questions swirled in his head, right alongside a few choice words to chide her for being so foolish. But all that came out was, “What?”

“That mixture I gave you was quite potent,” Dia said proudly as Aki hopped back into her lap. “And with the blood of Sparda’s kin…” She shook her head with a sigh that sounded almost nostalgic. “You’ll be good for a few months, at least.”

“A few months?” Vergil said. “That’s…”

“Quite impressive!” Dia said, cutting off his less than enthusiastic reply. “You should be proud!’

“Proud?” Vergil said. “I have the most…”

“Powerful demonic blood there is?” Dia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Afraid there are quite a few demons that would disagree with you.”

Vergil huffed. “And they’d be wrong.”

“Probably.” Dia waved him off. “Doesn’t matter.”

And Vergil might have argued with her more, if Roxy didn’t look so miserable. For a brief moment, that annoyed him more than the demon-turned-grandmother. “Is a few months not enough for you?”

Roxy flinched, and Vergil bit back a quiet groan at how utterly terrible that sounded once he’d actually said it. It didn’t help that Dia was glaring at him with the intensity of a thousand suns, probably wishing she could smite him for such a statement. “It’s very generous,” Roxy said. “And I appreciate it.” But her voice was so, unbearably quiet. So sad in a way Vergil hadn’t heard before. And he realized very quickly that he hated it with a burning passion.

Why did it bother him so much?

Why did he feel this… obligation to help?

He forced himself to sit beside her, but not before casually moving a few of the pillows between them. He heard Dia snort in the background, but he didn’t pay her any mind. “How does this work?” He said. “All of…” He paused. “Kuro. You. The stasis.”

Her head rose slowly, but the confusion was evident in her eyes. “Wh-what?” She stammered. “You… You want to know? But…” Vergil wasn’t certain if her expression was one of shock, disbelief, or something else he couldn’t read. Regardless, it slipped away when she took a long, deep breath. “Are you sure? It’s not the most…” She trailed off, head tilting in thought. “Glamorous of… situations.”

“Seems marginally better than calling me ten minutes before you turn into an ice sculpture.”

She paused, flummoxed. “That’s a rather dramatic way of putting it. But you’re not entirely wrong.”

“I believe,” Dia said, drawing out the statement for an extraordinarily long time. “That it’s time for my departure. You can handle it from here, right?” She raised her eyebrow at Vergil. When he simply stared back, she said, “She needs to hunt once she can walk again, and...” She paused, glancing at Roxy. “When was the last time you ate?” Roxy’s mouth opened for a split second, but she quickly closed it and looked away. Dia sighed. “And maybe make her some soup.”

Then she was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving only glimmers of green magic behind. “She does that, a lot,” Roxy said. “Though she’s usually kind enough to knock when she visits.”

“Considerate.”

Vergil didn’t know how to explain the peculiar feeling in his chest when she giggled “Could be worse,” She said. “Her last husband was the worst.” A curious sparkle returned to her eyes, and Vergil didn’t have the heart to stop whatever story she was about to tell him. “He’d never left the Underworld before meeting her. So, when she visited me for the first time, she brought him along. Next thing I knew, he’d eaten all of my food, most of it uncooked, and was trying to convince Aki to tell him where I got it from.” Aki growled, his tail flicking upward in annoyance. But Roxy just smiled and brushed through his fur. He purred as he nuzzled back into her lap, annoying demon husbands forgotten entirely. “The second time, he ordered two dozen pizzas, and paid with my card.”

“... And you’re certain this wasn’t Dante?”

“Is he a big pizza guy?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

She laughed again, but Vergil saw her eyes flutter as she attempted to hide the following yawn. “I should probably talk to him a bit more, huh?”

Vergil scowled. “That’s not…” He trailed off, averting his gaze.

“Not what?”

“You need to rest.”

“Now you’re dodging the question.” But even she relented after another yawn and sunk back into the cushions. “I’ll probably be asleep for… awhile. But Aki knows when to wake me up.”

“You can’t hunt like this.”

“I mean once the feeling in my legs comes back…”

“I will stay,” He said. “And you still owe me an explanation.”

Her eyes drifted closed. “How much do you really want to know?”

Vergil paused, but not for long. “Go to sleep.”

“Because you need some time?” He glared at her, not surprised when her lips curved into a soft, and very tired smile. “If you need anything,” She mumbled. “There’s plenty of food, tea, and coffee. There’s the T.V, of course, but I’m assuming you’d be more interested in the books... in the room down… the…” She slipped into sleep before she finished.

“Insufferable,” Vergil muttered. Aki chirped something akin to an agreement as he nuzzled against Roxy, tail flopping to the side. And Vergil might have pondered what exactly he was trying to accomplish here, had an all too familiar ringtone not gone off at that exact moment. He answered it begrudgingly, fully aware that ignoring his brother would only make things worse.

“So, Verge,” Dante said without any form of pleasantries. Vergil could imagine the grin on his brother’s face. “Out with sunshine again?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Well, technically...”

“I’m on a job,” Vergil said. “I’ll return once it’s done.”

Dante laughed. “Sure sure, whatever you say. But does it at least pay well? Because we could really use some money for…”

Vergil hung up.

Ko-fi -- Master List -- AO3

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #dmc #fan fiction #vergilxoc #vergilxroxy #vergil #dante #nero #cool ice dragons #no that wasn't a pun #see you on tuesday!

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

Text

Heavenuva Boss

Not too far away from Holy City lay a beautiful area within the clouds of Heaven. A floating white sign read “Welcome to Elf City: est. 1981.” The sky was blue and the buildings and streets immaculate. Elves of various colors and sizes were chatting among themselves, while others walked around with their families. Many of them were hard at work, wrapping presents for Christmas, saving food to give to the homeless, cleaning a nearby park, and caring for the ill. Some of them liked to volunteer just for something to do. There were also miracle workers, whose job was to travel to different realms and bestow blessings to those on Earth or in other realms in Heaven. Hell was forbidden for obvious reasons. Some elves went around, saving people’s lives or healing their wounds once they prayed.

The most well-known miracle bestowing company was located in a tall office building surrounded by golden halo clouds. Posted on a door were the words “E.L.F.” Headquarters and on a taped piece of paper, “Meeting in progress” was scribbled on it.

On a white board was a line graph and a bar graph, the line slowly moving downwards from a blue happy face to a red sad face. “Docile is the best, by Docile” was written off to the side. A white Christian Cross was drawn in the center of the wooden table surrounded by black leather chairs.

Up front, a black, white, and blue colored elf paced back and forth. He had large pointed white ears that jutted off to the sides between the sides and top of his head. He had large purple eyes. The left side of his face was blue and the right side of his face was dark gray. He wore a long white business suit with blue buttons and purple circles on the sleeves with a cross in the centers. White boots with blue outlines covered his feet while white fingerless gloves covered his hands. A white hoof-shaped mark lay on his forehead like a birthmark. A little green pin attached to his undershirt had a happy face on it. A black halo with thorns on it hovered over his head.

Docile looked toward his audience of two elves and a humanoid cat sitting on chairs around the table.

“All right, now I know business has been…a bit stressful lately. We’ve had to keep up demands and during the rush, not everyone can be saved.” He pointed toward the graph. “It seems that more and more people aren’t counting on miracles from angels and God to help themselves feel better. I don’t know how our company will fare if this keeps sloping down. It’s no one’s fault, okay? I just think that some of us could…help with improving their attitudes… Woxxie.”

Woxxie raised her eyebrows. The grumpy imp woman had a blue face, short white hair with a black spot on it and displayed a row of sharp teeth. She wore white gloves and a white tank top over a long white skirt. Her eyelashes extended past her face. Like the others, she had a black wiry halo over her head.

Docile continued. “Now does anyone have any ideas on how we can business drumming up again?”

Willie, the bubbly elf, raised his hand. He had a blue face, purple eyes, and black hair framing his face. Black freckles were present under his eyes, black halo above his head. He wore a light blue bow tie and a white business suit similar to Docile’s.

Willie grinned, “What…about…a billboard?”

“That’s a thought, Willie, but there are advertisements everywhere in Heaven,” Docile mentioned. Then his eyes brightened and he waved his hands. “How about a car wash?”

Woxxie crossed her arms. “We’re a company, not a go-to fundraising event, sir.”

Docile wondered over to Woxxie and put her in a headlock. “So helpful, Woxxie, I’m really glad you’re in the room right now.” He gently shoved her aside, sarcasm in his voice. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

Docile turned on the TV and a series of clips showed up on screen: Docile bandaging an angel’s wings, Woxxie helping a man walk, Sunna, the cat purring at a crying girl, Willie saving someone using CPR.

Docile held a bowl of popcorn for everyone to eat. Sunna, the brown furred, black stripped cat, wore a white dress with a sun on it. She wore a gold cross necklace around her neck. She was purring contently while sniffing her last leaf of catnip she brought. A nearby poster showed Docile and his two elf sisters Mia and Tia with an award for being the best care-providers.

“Ah, those were good times,” he smiled.

Willie happily ate a piece of popcorn on the table.

Woxxie scowled. “Don’t need any reminding sir, considering you blew most of our salaries to help a rival pharmaceutical company with their advertisement, one that you additionally paid to have us hold their hands and sing for three whole weeks on a channel, everybody watches!”

“Hey, uh excuse me?” Docile looked back, insulted. He stood up. “What’s so “obnoxious” about generosity and a super fun song, alright? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spitting lies.” He walked across the room.

“People love musicals, sir,” added Willie.

“Exactly, Willie,” Docile smiled, “and we’re basically doing a musical.” Docile did jazz hands before during to Woxxie. “Are you gonna criticize my musical theater dreams like my dad did?”

“Sir…” Woxxie began, but Docile cut her off.

“Because all I see right now is my Dad and his angry eyes glaring at me, criticizing my dreams of being, who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

Willie leaned in toward his wife and spoke in a teasing tone, “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Woxxie?”

“I…what?” she stuttered.

He leaned in closer, eyebrows raising up and down playfully. “I thought I knew you.” Woxxie rolled her eyes.

Docile turned back to Woxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Woxxie. And after I made you Employee of the Month.” He held up a picture of Woxxie with a large grin of sharp teeth.

Woxxie threw up her hands. “Okay, sir, I’m sorry, but a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theater. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

“I liked it!” Willie popped up.

Woxxie turned to him, finger shaking. “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

In a commercial, Docile spoke in front of purple curtains. “Hi I’m Docile, the “e” is silent and I’m the founder of E.L.F.” Docile leaned against the L in the logo, with Willie and Woxxie posing on either side. Docile continued, “Are you a piece of gold that got yourself sent to Heaven?” The picture showed Docile dressed in a superhero outfit with a red cape. “Or are you a conflicted convict who just happened to have your life cut short by someone else?” The next picture showed Docile dressed in a red devil costume choosing whether or not to quit smoking and drugs.

A blue winged angel with a tiger’s head spoke, “After defending myself against my psycho brother and preaching about God, you could imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the coronavirus killed me. I really wish I could give my family well-wishes and advise them to kick my brother out.”

Docile continued, standing in a church with Willie and Woxxie nearby.

“Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world, we can help you take care of your unfinished business by saving anyone who may have helped you out when you were alive!” Docile happily climbed up a flight of golden steps.

Then the jingle began:

“When you want somebody saved

And you wanna go behave

Call the Efficient Lifesaving Fellows

Whether First Aid or CPR

We’ll make sure you all go far

Efficient Lifesaving Fellows

We do our job so fine

‘Cause we come straight from Cloud Nine

We’ll save your husband or your wife

We’ll even help extend your life

The Efficient Lifesaving Fellows

Pets live for freeeeee”

A brown haired woman stole a guy’s wallet and kicked him in the groin. She ran off and then got shot by police. Yet she only went unconscious. The doctors took her to the emergency room while the imps waited. A doctor walked in on the elves in the waiting room.

“She’s in stable condition, but she’ll need rest. Now what kind of insurance do you freaks have?”

“God’s chosen don’t need insurance,” Docile said.

The elves and the woman were promptly kicked out of the hospital and sent back to Heaven.

The jingle ended with “Pets live for freeee!”

Woxxie spoke up, hands in front of her. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Sunna’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give the right info on the client. It’s very simple.”

“I’m sorry, Woxxie, I did the nest I could,” Sunna said.

Woxxie fumed, stuttering “’Sorry’ doesn’t cover it…do your job!”

“Hey, now we don’t blame screw-ups on Sunna, okay?” Docile said. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” Sunna walked over and embraced Docile in a tight hug, Docile straining to break free.

“Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful!”

Sunna thought back to the time when she was a receptionist at a desk. The old rotary phone rang, sounding like cats meowing. She picked up the fish-shaped phone.

“Thank you for calling E.L.F. How may we bless you?” Sunna asked.

Willie was on the other end. “There’s a customer ranting about Satan. He wants to commit suicide…”

“Tell him that suicide will not make things better.”

“He wants to rant and curse to you…”

“Just got a call on the other line, apologies.”

Sunna hung up the phone, glancing back at her Fancy Feast Feline magazine.

Another memory came back to Sunna, which took place at her house.

“Happy Adoption Anniversary, Sunny,” said Docile. “I got a little something for you.” He showed her a gift in his hands.

Sunna smiled. “Is it spiders to play with?”

“I…uh…”

“Then I want it!” she exclaimed happily, tearing open the gift. She took out a white pill and looked in confusion.

“I’m sorry, it was a cure for syphilis,” Docile said, moving toward the wall.

“Docile, it’s a placebo!” Sunna cried, crushing the sugar pill in her paw. “There is no cure!”

There was one other time when Sunna watched Caroline singing/screaming “Inside of Every Angel is a Monster.” Woxxie walked over, holding a piece of paper in her hands.

“Um, did you just send me an ad for beauty makeovers?”

“Yes,” Sunna replied.

“Is it because I’m so gorgeous?” Woxxie asked with a grin.

“Come on,” Sunna teased. “Just the opposite.”

Later, Sunna rummaged around, looking for something in the kitchen.

“Who left this tuna salad in the fridge?”

“Wasn’t me,” said Willie. “It was there from yesterday.”

“Is this yours Wox?”

No answer.

“Well, I’m taking it because I have the best feeling right now.”

She closed the door and gulped down the food.

“Now why would you get happy on a work day?” Willie asked, nearby.

“I’m happy from this morning, Willie Nilly,” she giggled.

Woxxie walked inside. “Is that my lunch?”

“I’m so sorry!” Sunna said, then brightened. “You know what? I’ll just go get you another one before work! Time to enjoy my tenth life!”

Sunna raced outside with a “Wheeee!” and helped an elderly elf cross the street.

“Docile!” Sunna called in the office, “Your privileged boss’s on the phone. Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you. Sounds a little DTP y.” (Down to Punish)

“Oh no that was one time!” Docile yelled, splashing water on himself in front of Woxxie.

“We wouldn’t have access to the living world if I hadn’t let myself get punished by him.

“You what?” Woxxie asked, concerned.

“I stole a Bible after getting whipped for the sins I did.”

“Docile!” Sunna cried.

“I heard you already!” Docile yelled before stomping into his office to play with bobble heads of himself, Woxxie and Willie.

“So, what can I do you for, Stolos?” Docile asked on his cell phone in his office.

The brown owl kind spoke from his castle, wearing a crown, white top hat and blue robes. “There’s a politician who’s causing lots of trouble on Earth. He wants to convince people that the coronavirus isn’t dangerous.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, it is, but more people die when no extra precautions are taken. And it gets crowded here.”

“Well that makes sense.”

“You know what happens when I’m stressed, Docy?”

“Oh no…” Docile began.

“When I’m stressed, I become angry. And when I’m angry, I have to whip your back and **** strike your **** with a flaming sword, cast you into a windy dessert, freeze you into ice in the lowest level, make you swim in the lake of fire for 1 million ******hours, hang you on a wooden cross for sins you didn’t commit and leave you begging for His mercy like an imperfect mortal!”

Docile hung up the phone and tossed the pieces to Sunna. “Here play with these. And you know after you put it in your mouth?”

“Yeah?”

“Vomit it off a bridge.”

Docile continued, “Look, the point is, Sunna is a valued member of our family and we don’t get rid of families.”

“We aren’t a family, sir,” Woxxie pointed out. “You are the boss. We are the employees. You treat her like she’s some hyperactive teenager. She’s more like a catnip addicted spoiled woman you let man the phones.”

Sunna stuck out her tongue at her.

“That is offensive,” Docile said. “Without rich people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life.” Docile opened the blinds and saw an angel dressed in a golden suit getting his picture taken by a crowd of people. Docile waved at a lovely white-haired blue-faced elf woman wearing a white dress with little white feathery wings on them before closing the blinds.

Woxxie crossed her arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding Willie and me outside of work?”

“Come on, it’s not that big a deal,” Willie said.

Woxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me…what?! I asked Willie for some lemons, he said “sure, honey.” Docile was suddenly fixing our oven just when we were about to make angel’s food cake!”

Willie laughed, “Docile said “the best aide is lemonade when life gives you lemons.” So funny!”

Willie and Woxxie remembered the song they sang, while Willie played on guitar:

“Of all the perfect elves,

It’s with him, I’m myself

Oh Willie.”

They leaned in for a kiss when Woxxie whirled around toward the window. Docile had a video camera outside.

“Are you bucking filming us right now?!”

Back in the present, Woxxie seethed. “Just. Stop. Doing that.”

“I don’t see what the issue is,” Docile said. “Just love good classic romance, holy matrimony…and the honeymoon bonus scenes.”

Sunna rolled her eyes, while Woxxie fumed.

“Sir, what you say and how you act is totally INAPPROPRIATE!” Woxxie stood up.

“Calm down, Wox,” Willie said, pulling her back down. “You’re gonna have another panic attack.”

“I AM CALM!” Woxxie yelled before Willie patted her head. “Shh there, there,” she said, while Woxxie whimpered.

Docile spoke again. “Look I don’t judge what you do outside of working hours, so don’t judge me.”

Veins popped out of Woxxie’s eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.”

She crossed her arms while Willie gasped in fear.

“Wox, he’s our boss!”

“No, it’s fine, Willie,” Docile mentioned. “Your wife is just…how do I say this without being offensive…bossy.”

“Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad single life?” Woxxie asked.

“Not really, but it’s still fun,” Docile admitted.

Sunna added to Woxxie, “Even though you can be a grump sometimes, I still appreciate your company.”

“Please don’t call her a grump, kitty cat!” Willie protested.

“Do not criticize my assistant that way,” Docile said. “She’s sensitive.”

“Yes I am,” admitted Sunna.

“You guys are freaking amazing!”

Everyone turned to look. A pale spirit of a brown-haired teen girl floated nearby, wearing a prisoner uniform.

“Oh thank you, kid,” said Docile. “It’s something for you to witness this.”

“Ugh, this company’s such a mess,” Woxxie exclaimed.

“Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Docile said out of nowhere.

“Nobody was talking about that,” Sunna mentioned.

“Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling, so how does it look? It’s good, right?”

The spirit pointed her finger at Docile, “It was heaven being able to rest after being shot by police for mugging a guy, but now…I miss my family. I want life!”

“You,” she said pointing to Docile, “You’re a selfless frugal clown. And I’m a young teen. We’re not supposed to like clowns.”

Woxxie scoffed, “Calling us clowns are ya…”

The spirit added, “If I wanted to talk to a pretty, organized woman, I’d look her in the eye and ask, “How in the world did I get here?”

“That’s my wife you’re talking to,” Willie said proudly.

“I figured you for an athlete but I didn’t know you’d get even luckier. And you.”

“Yeah what about me?” Sunna asked.

“You’re just purrfect. I was never a dog person.”

Sunna purred.

“Wow you really are kind of a nice slab of diamonds,” Docile said.

Woxxie rolled her eyes. “Such a flirt trying to make herself innocent.”

Sunna spoke up. “Hey guys, I just got a text from our client, says she’s the right one after all.”

“Who?” Docile asked.

“Her.”

“Me?” asked the spirit.

“Yep.”

“They wanted us to save an actual convict?” Docile asked.

“That’s what they’re saying.”

Docile frowned. “Well Satan in a heater, I guess there is a Devil.” He waved his hands, supplying oxygen to her and she woke up back on Earth in the hospital.

Docile spoke about E.L.F.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can, like saving people. So from us here at the Efficient Lifesaving Fellows group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Heaven and business is business.”

Everyone wrapped Docile in a hug, whole he rolled his eyes. Then he said, “Even though the kid was a client, she’s still a convict. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” Everyone smiled in the hug.

Back on Earth, the elves cornered the escaping woman and sent her to a juvenile detention center. The police looked up at the elves through a portal.

“You’re welcome!” Docile called with a wave before the portal closed.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #heavenuva boss #haven hotel #2p

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wildshadowtamer · 5 years

Text

A Not-so Normal Day

King is created by @vex-bittys, Flare is made by @dawnsbitties, Payt is by @toxious-bitties, Mono is by @mythical-adoptions, Twister and Blueberry Puffs are made by @selkiesbittybonanza and Drop is by @meadowlarkkitties. Echo, Shadow, Wild and Blue King are all by Me.

Also, @wonderland-isles made the vitamin crystals, tysm.

Warnings: Bitty harm, Gore, Guns and Death.

It started off as any normal day in the Shadow household would: King waking up at 5am to do housework, wake everyone up and at 6am, send the kids to school.

It was currently 6am, so Echo and Shadow, King's owner, were taking the younger kids to school while the teens walked. The Bitties were typically homeschooled or adults already, so King tended to take care of that.

Just as King and Flare were washing the last of the breakfast dishes up, there was a knock on the door, not exactly unusual but not common on a Thursday morning. "Payt, Be a gentleman and open the door, would you sweetie?" King called over his shoulder at his lover, Payt, a 10ft horrortale papyrus 'bitty.'

"K!" Payt got up from the dining table and slithered to open the door "Oh, Hi Wild!" King heard Payt exclaim from the front door, he smiled and wiped his hands on a tea towel before making his way to Wild, his owner's oldest biological son.

"Hey, guys! Wanted to come by and help you out a bit, I've brought my boys with me too!" He explained happily, more cheery than usual "Oh! Well come on in, make yourself at home!" Payt slithered to the side, so Wild could get in.

"Aw, hey" King looked down at Wild's bitties, a Honey Fold and a Dealer Bitty: The Dealer was named Mono and the Honey Fold was called Drop, they didn't come around often, but it was a pleasure to see them again.

"So, How're things going with that mission of yours?" Payt asked, sitting down on the opposite couch to Wild, Flare slithered in and settled next to the two lamias

"Pretty good actually! Went to that Sanctuary last week and helped out with sewing and fixing some bitty ladders, found some wild bitties in my back garden, so I left some water and food out for them and adopted these guys!" He stroked Drop, who leaned against him and purred quietly.

"Wow, you're sounding more and more like Mom every day," Flare commented, laying against King lazily "Heh, what can I say, I love bitties." Wild shrugged and grinned, his blue goggles tinting his natural eye colour to a sort of purple "Gotta rescue the ones I can, right?" He rested his arms on his lap and held his head in one hand

"You're a real hero, kid." King couldn't help but feel proud of this kid, despite the fact he's only known him for about 3 months, it made his soul feel happy to see his owner's kid be so into saving his kind.

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

A Few Hours Later. . .

"Well, I must be going, gotta go into the city soon to grab some items for Shadow" King mentioned, getting up and slithering over to the door "Ok, we can take care of things here for a while!" Wild called after him as he closed the door and headed off to the city, which was a long walk considering they lived in the middle of a forest, but he doesn't mind exercise anyway.

It must have taken about 20 minutes to walk to the city usually, but thankfully King had a trick up his sleeve, Shadow had given everyone a teleporter gem in case they needed to go somewhere emergency or not, so he simply teleported over to the city centre and headed to the nearby's farmers market.

Sadly, he didn't make it far as he was dragged into an alleyway, where a gang of thugs pinned him to the wall "woah, HEY! LET GO OF-" He managed to punch one of them in the face and loomed over them in his full 7ft height, hood up aggressively.

The Head of the Gang laughed "Oh, you made a bad choice in doing that!" He grinned evilly and a second King tackled him to the ground, it soon became a struggle of red and white, blood splattering on the cold floor "GET 'EM BOYS!" The head yelled as the second King, whose shirt said 'Scarface', pinned him to the wall and about 10 Thugs started slashing at him aggressively, he struggled and tried to fight back, but Scarface was too strong, and he couldn't move without getting hit.

The Audible sound of his HP lowering echoed through the alleyway, and he eventually his survival instincts kicked in, and he lunged at Scarface, knocking him to the ground and whipping anyone in the way of his tail as he attempted to tackle the Leader, only to get interrupted by a blur of blue and white as something shoved the four thugs in front of him to the ground. He was fuelled purely by instinct and rage, he saw red, he felt safe with this stranger, so they both started fighting off the other thugs back-to-back, getting badly cut and bruised in the process.

And then...

BANG.

A gunshot went off.

King yelled in pain and jumped at the person who shot him, the Leader, and bit down on him as hard as he could. The Leader struggled and screamed in pain as the venom joined his bloodstream, but his moving was only making his time alive shorter and more painful.

And then-

BANG

another gunshot.

The Helpful lamia hissed loudly and jumped the two that shot him, knocking them unconscious quickly, both of them were bleeding badly now, cuts up and down their body, shirts torn and showing their bleeding arms and spines. Now, all the thugs were unconscious or had run away, and the Leader was writhing in pain as he slowly went still and died.

As for Scarface, he had fled when the first gunshot went off, nowhere to be seen. Only now did King get to see what the second lamia looked like: a blue scaled King-like lamia with no pattern on his hood.

Although, this didn't last long as the Blue King slithered a bit forward and fell unconscious, to which King managed to catch him at the last moment before he cracked his head on the floor

"Damn it..." King thought, putting an arm around the stranger and lifting him up, he grabbed the teleporter gem that had fallen to the ground in the fight and quickly teleported as close to home as he could.

He was teleported a bit away from the house, and his entire body felt heavy and painful, despite this, he continued to the house, feeling the strangers tail drag behind him.

He eventually shouldered the door open and muttered "Wild. Here. Now." before collapsing onto the floor.

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

"Wild. Here. Now" was all Wild heard before a thud came from the living room, he hurried in and saw King bloody and broken on the ground with a similar bluer stranger next to him, his stomach dropped.

"PAYT, FLARE, GET HERE NOW!" Wild yelled, starting to tear up as he paced back and forth, knowing he couldn't lift the two 7ft lamias on his own.

Both of them quickly hurried down and carried them onto the couch, stripping them of their shirts and hurrying off to grab bandages and medicine.

Thankfully, all the other bitties were upstairs, so nobody had to see the bloody messes that were the Kings.

Payt came rushing in and started bandaging King up, wiping down the wounds before-hand, tears ran down his face as Payt watched his mate so hurt.

Flare followed soon behind with Twister in tow and did the same for the blue King, everyone was extremely panicked but tried to keep the situation quiet. Wild was pacing back and forth with his head in his hands, crying through all of it.

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

About 3 Hours Later. . .

King and the stranger were bandaged up, and Everyone was starting to calm down, Shadow was at work currently, and nobody wanted her to stress out enough to rush home, so they just decided to keep quiet.

"....T-Twister, What'd you think that blue King is?" Flare asked quietly, sitting opposite to the two unconscious lamias "He looks like a Blueberry Puff King hybrid, H-Honestly." He answered quietly, visibly rather shaken.

"Well, If he doesn't have an owner, I'll take him in," Wild told them sternly, his goggles laying next to him, so his blood-red, crimson eyes shone with pure determination "I don't know what happened to them, but I'm not letting it happen again." He added firmly, stifling a sob.

"Looks like he's gonna be alright though, some permanent scars to his ribs, spine and his eye but...They'll both pull through." Payt confirmed confidently, still shaking but trying to keep calm.

"When I find the man who hurt my brother-" Wild snarled, fury filling his eyes, Flare put a hand on his shoulder "Trust me, all of us want to do the same but we can't. If anyone got into a fight with King, their probably dead anyway." He patted Wilds back and sighed.

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

That was yesterday, both of them are slowly recovering, and everyone is calming down, but Wild refuses to leave until both are better, so he's staying in his old room for the time being. I've given both boys some vitamin crystals to help, but that's all I can do currently.

#Bitty harm #Gore #Bitty Angst #Guns #Death #bittybones #my writing

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gwenbrightly · 5 years

Text

Never A Perfect Moment pt1

I just realized I never posted anything for my current wip, so here yall go. Pt one of a Kailor fic taking place directly after Hunted.

__________________________________________________

They had won. Yes, the journey home had been frustrating and time consuming, and Kai had wanted to throttle Jay for most of it (his extremely loose grip on sanity had been more than a little concerning). And yes, it had taken a long and strenuous battle that could easily have ended very differently. But it was best not to dwell on those things, he supposed. Years of similarly traumatizing events had taught him that. Good old Ninjago City was finally safe again… and it was wonderful to be home. Even if home was currently in ruins. The events of the past few weeks had left an obvious mark on the city. Rubble lined the streets. The remains of the colossus that had once ruled the city with its destructive fist could be seen not too far away as well. But... They were together again, and that was more than enough for him just now. Kai gave his adoptive family a relieved smile.

"Just another day in Ninjago… I wonder what tomorrow will hold…" He declared, following the others off of the steps they had been standing on. Lloyd's... Father... or at least, some incredibly twisted version of him, had been arrested, pushed into a police vehicle, shouting something unintelligible as he went. The rest of the SOG had also been rounded up; there was no more fighting to be had. Safety might be a relative term for now, but it appeared as though they'd achieved it in the end. Which was good, because none of them seemed to be in any condition to keep fighting. Noticing the bizarre angle at which his sister's arm hung – something he should've caught sooner… he was her brother after all (oh, he felt guilty now for not paying better attention, no matter how tense things had been)- Kai added,

"After we all make a run to the hospital. Or… what's left of it anyway… Your arm looks pretty messed up, sis." Nya sighed, wincing slightly. Her relief at having her family back had distracted her from the pain until now. If the swelling she could feel was anything to go off of, her shoulder had definitely been dislocated during her showdown with Ultra Violet earlier that day. She could barely move it at all. That… was going to be fun to fix.

"You're right… But I'm not the only one... Lloyd's pretty banged up, and... Skylor wasn't looking too great either. You saw how all that dark energy was affecting her…"

"Oh, gosh, Skylor… We left her all alone in that armored car of yours, which was completely epic, by the way… I hate to split up again so soon, but…" Kai began, worriedly. Nya shot him a knowing look.

"Someone needs to check on her. Go on, grab her while we figure out transportation to the hospital. This arm is killing me."

"A-are you sure?" She lightly punched his shoulder with her good hand.

"Course I am."

"Yeah. We'll be fine here for a few minutes." Cole assured him with a shooing gesture. Lloyd gave him a weak smile. Kai's concern for the redhead won out; he wandered the short distance to where they'd parked the vehicle. Arriving just outside the door, he climbed inside. His blood ran cold at the sight that greeted him. Instead of having recovered now that Garmadon's powers could no longer affect her, Skylor seemed worse off than before. Her skin had turned a dreadfully pale shade of greyish white. The master of amber's eyes, which were normally so gorgeous and full of life, had turned dull and glassy. And the smell... She had clearly vomited at some point. Skylor groaned miserably as he approached her. How had things gone downhill so quickly? They never should have left her alone... He knelt next to her, careful to avoid the puddle of puke on the floor nearby.

"Kai? Izzat you…?"

"Yeah… you… This… You're burning up…" Kai stated, feeling the unnatural waves of heat that were radiating off of off of her without even touching her skin. The master of amber didn't seem to hear him. Every breath she took came in short, shaky gasps.

"M'not feeling…. Fink imma…" She slumped forward, slipping into unconsciousness. Kai rushed to catch her before her head could slam into the floor.

"Oh nonono Sky..." Something was seriously wrong with her - She needed help, and soon. If he lost her... No. If he started thinking like that, there was no way he'd be able to keep it together long enough to get her to the hospital... Taking a deep breath, he gently scooped her up, doing his best to ignore how limp she felt in his arms. She'd be fine if he could just get her some proper medical attention... Right? The master of fire clambered out of the vehicle as quickly as he could, not wanting to waste any time. Getting back to the others seemed to take an eternity. Skylor's dead weight grew increasingly unbearable the further he trudged. He could sense the steady rising of her fever as well. Not a good sign at all. It hadn't felt so far before… why was this taking so long now?

"Kai! What on earth?!" Lloyd exclaimed just as he felt as though his arms were about to give out on him. The master of fire came to a halt, panicking inwardly.

"There's something wrong with Skylor!" Zane observed, the first to rush over and offer his brother in arms assistance.

"S-she passed out pretty much as soon as I got there… and her temp's gotta be at least 105... I-I think Garmadon's powers must have… poisoned her or something…" Kai gasped out, breathless. It didn't take much for the others to see that he was right. Her appearance was dreadful. The way her head lulled to one side and beads of sweat trickled down her face, not to mention her pasty complexion, were all signs that she was suffering from something major.

"That seems likely. We don't have any idea how wielding Oni powers would affect an elemental master. Especially one with Skylor's abilities." The nindroid agreed with concern as he examined the redhead more closely.

"Then we need to get her onto one of these dregons and head to the hospital asap." Lloyd stated, taking the lead, for which Kai was grateful. The others immediately jumped into action, helping to hoist Skylor up onto the fire dragon that Kai had befriended. Although she could not actively help due to her injury, Nya yelled kind words of encouragement to them as they worked, striving to relieve the tension that was written all over Kai's posture. It took no more than a few minutes to ensure that Skylor would not fall midflight. Then, Nya clambered onto Jay's dragon, and Pixal onto Zane's. The dragons took off gracefully, racing towards their destination at a speed that would have been impossible for a group of mere humans to accomplish. Under different circumstances, riding a dragon for the first time in years would have been exhilarating for Nya, but right now, all she could think about was the look on her brother's face when he'd returned with Skylor's limp form. She knew how much he cared for her, even if he'd never admitted it out loud. They'd gone through so much together and it pained her to see him so upset. This wasn't fair; why couldn't they just be happy and safe for once? Below, the city flew by, smoke rising from the rubble of what had once been buildings.

"You okay back there?" The master of water heard her boyfriend call back to her, "The flight isn't jostling your arm too much, is it?"

"It's not… too bad… I've been through worse, trust me. We've just had so much happen today, and… it's a lot to take in..." Nya replied truthfully. She could handle the pain a bit longer; there was simply a lot on her mind. A park flew by - they were reaching the part of the city that had remained relatively untouched by Garmadon's forces. That was a promising sign for the potential state of their destination.

"I feel you there. But it feels awesome to be home again. I really missed you, you know?"

"Mm… I missed you too, Jay. Especially when I thought you were dead, a-and I-" She began, voice thick with emotion, Jay stiffened.

"You... You thought we were dead?!" He breathed. Though he didn't turn around, she could hear the guilt in his voice.

"Ye-s… It's… There's a lot to tell you after we've… made sure everyone's okay… I…"

"We have a lot to tell you, too." Admitted the master of lightning.

"Like how on earth you guys managed to keep Wu alive til adulthood?" Nya prompted curiously. He laughed softly.

"Oh, sweetie, you should've seen his sassy kid self running around pretending to be Cole's son…"

"Wait-What?" She cried, attempting to make sense of this latest piece of information.

"Tell you about it later, I promise. The hospital's just up ahead, and you need treatment." Jay reminded her as the dragon began to fly lower.

"Mmm... Wish I could just stay with you…" Nya mumbled tiredly, leaning against him.

"I know… and as much as I'd love that, you're clearly in pain, and Kai's gonna need you to be doing okay. He's pretty shaken up over both you and Skylor." He told her. They were close to landing now. The hospital was less than a block away.

"He really cares about her. Always has… I-I just hope…"

"Hey, she's a tough girl - just like you. I'm sure she'll pull through. We gotta stay positive."

"Stay… Positive… Yeah, good plan… Ow… " Nya hissed, grimacing slightly as she felt the jolt of the dragon they had been riding make contact with the ground.

"Oh. Sorry!" Jay told her apologetically, "You want some help getting down?" She considered his offer for a moment before gratefully accepting. The master of water had missed his reassuring presence to an almost painful extent the past few weeks.

"Please? That'd be great…" She said appreciatively, glancing over at Kai, who was already scrambling frantically from his perch. Lloyd and Cole quickly joined him, helping to lower the still unconscious Skylor to the ground. Using her good hand, Nya grabbed ahold of Jay and allowed him to guide her down off of the lightning dragon. Chaos exploded as Pixal and Zane pulled open the doors to the emergency room. The rest of the group burst inside, startling the patients and hospital employees milling about inside. Several nurses rushed forwards immediately to strap Skylor onto a mobile stretcher they happened to have on hand within seconds (clearly the hospital was making a point of being extra prepared as a result of the battle that had been ranging up until recently). Nya watched her brother begin to shake as they rolled her away. They hadn't permitted him to follow. He pleaded with them fiercely, desperate to stay by her side, but it was no use. His presence wouldn't do anything to help, ultimately, they said, leave it to the professionals. And since they weren't legally obligated to allow him to be present during treatment, as neither he, nor the others, were technically related to her, there was little that could be done except waiting and hoping for the best. She watched as Lloyd gave him a fierce hug and guided him to the nearest couch, offering kind words of comfort, and speaking of how relieved he was to have his big brother back in one piece. Hearing yet another nurse gently ask her to follow her to another room for treatment, Nya glanced regretfully at the scene playing out before her. She didn't want to leave Kai (or Jay, for that matter), but she had no choice. The pain in her arm was becoming unbearable and the water ninja knew the only way to remedy this was to allow herself to entrust her brother to the rest of their family and hope they'd be able to keep him from breaking until she could return.

"I'll be back soon." She promised, doing her best to give him a reassuring look. It was less comforting than it should have been.

_________________________________________________

One hour and a brand-new sling later, Nya found herself back in the waiting room. Before the doctor had released her, she'd chocked down several pills, which had helped reduce the pain she was in dramatically. Maybe now she'd be able to focus more on catching up with her family… and… Keeping Kai sane…

"Hey guys. I'm back…" She said softly, seating herself next to her brother. His face was buried in his hands; he didn't look up.

"How's your arm?" Lloyd asked. The doctors must have gotten to him as well. He was sporting several bandages that definitely hadn't been there before.

"Better than before. Doctor says I won't be able to use it for a few weeks, but… could be worse." She announced. The others exchanged looks.

"That's…" Started Cole.

"That's good… I mean… it's not amazing, obviously, but. Still. Good." Jay finished, rambling.

"We could certainly use some positive news…" Agreed Zane somberly. Glancing from her unresponsive brother, to her boyfriend, to the rest of her family, the master of water faltered.

"Something happened while they were fixing my arm… Didn't it?"

Kai spoke for the first time, lifting his face just enough that she could see how puffy and red his eyes were.

"They had to put Skylor on oxygen…. She had a-a seizure a-and stopped breathing…. And t-hey…" He whispered, voice cracking.

"Oh, Kai…" Nya murmured, throwing her arm around his shoulders. A wet sob escaped from the master of fire as he leaned into the hug.

"Nya? W-what if she never wakes up? S-she could die…. I-I can't…What I-if I never… get to… t-tell her that I-I…"

"You love her?" She stated. He sobbed again, louder this time.

"H-how-"

"Because we know you, Kai." Zane answered gently.

"It's so obvious to anyone who knows you how strongly you feel. She's gotta know deep down." Jay commented.

"A-and FSM! I-I'm so sorry! Bec-cause you're my sister, and… and I-I've barely said one word to you since I got b-back… And L-Loyd, too… I-I'm a horrible big brother for ignoring y-you…" Kai cried, shaking. Nya and Lloyd both shook their heads vehemently.

"No, Kai. You're not a horrible brother. You could never be horrible." The blonde insisted immediately.

"B-but I…" Kai trailed off miserably.

"It's okay, I promise. We understand. We do. But sitting here worrying isn't gonna fix things... You know that... Now c'mon. Let's go find some dinner. The food in the cafeteria is pretty decent. If I remember correctly from the last time we were stuck here, they even have a little fast food restaurant inside. You look like you haven't eaten in days..." Offered Nya after a few minutes, giving him one of her signature looks. He needed a distraction. Desperately.

"But-" He started to protest.

"She's right. You can't sit around waiting for hours on end with nothing to do… you'll drive yourself crazy." Cole reminded him, pulling the master of fire to his feet.

"Yeah, and then maybe after we eat, we can go look at those cool murals they have in the children's wing! You loved them last time we were here..." Jay agreed, trying to sound upbeat. Kai allowed them to drag him along back out the doors to the emergency room and into an elevator. He watched the glowing sign above the door signal the changes as they switched floors, wishing he were somewhere else entirely. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his family's efforts – he loved them dearly and they were only trying to help. He just... Dreaded what might happen the next time a doctor gave them an update. The group exited the elevator a few minutes later and headed down a maze of hallways before entering the surprisingly large and airy dining hall. The scent of sanitizer that had permeated the air and the blindingly white walls hadn't done much for his appetite. He should have just stayed behind while the others got something to eat... There was little chance that food would improve his current outlook. Nevertheless, his sister shoved him towards the large menu sign of the rather generic restaurant and instructed him to pick something. Kai stared blankly at it, nothing sounding the least bit palatable. When he didn't say anything after a few minutes, Nya sighed softly and gave his hand a squeeze.

"You know what? I'll take care of this. Think you can handle finding us a place to sit?" He nodded numbly and trudged towards the assorted tables and booths that covered the other side of the room. The master of fire was unfortunately familiar with the layout, thanks to several previous visits. Though, he couldn't remember ever feeling quite this drained or on edge.. The events of the past few days weighed heavily on him, and he was having trouble processing it all. Lloyd's leg had been an easy fix after the first battle with his father. Even the intense case of appendicitis that Nya had been subjected to a few years back had been reasonably straightforward. This? This was far less predictable. There was no way of knowing how things would work out in the end. And that thought scared him. Selecting an isolated booth towards the back of the room, Kai sat in silence, waiting for the others to join him. It was the first moment he'd had alone in a long time. He wasn't sure that was a good thing. Part of him wished he'd thought to have Jay charge his phone earlier (it had remained in his pocket, slightly battered, but still functional, since they'd first ended up in the First Ream – cell service was completely non-existent there), since having that luxury would serve as a distraction from his growing concern for Skylor. Alas, he had not. And if he really thought about it, he dreaded having to weed through the countless social media notifications he undoubtedly had (being so well known definitely had its downsides) anyway. That was going to be a serious chore. One he wasn't sure he was mentally prepared for. And then… His parents…. Kai really should call them. They'd worked so hard to make up for their absence in the past year (though it felt like a lifetime ago, honestly). And he was eternally grateful that they had had the chance to reconnect after so long. Not everyone was blessed with an opportunity like that, and Kai hated that Lloyd had lost another family member just as he and his sister finally found theirs. It wasn't fair. But then again, what did any of them know about fairness? Half the time, life seemed to be a cruel trick of fate. Like… Having his baby brother's father resurrected in an almost demonic form. He… really needed to check up on the kid. Skylor wasn't the only one who had been damaged, here, and it was his responsibility as the big brother in this family to make sure Lloyd was on the road to emotional recovery. Even if both he and Nya had assured him that they understood if he was a bit distracted by the master of amber's hospitalization.

"Kai?" Someone called, snapping him from his reverie. Nya scooted across the booth's cushioned bench, coming to a stop next to him.

"Kai – you wanna burger?" Jay and Cole set down several trays stacked high with food. Clearly no one had been able to resist the call of cheap fast food.

"We got curly fries, too!" The master of lightning supplied enthusiastically as the rest of group piled haphazardly into the booth. Kai took a deep breath. The smell made his stomach growl, reminding the him just how long it had been since he'd eaten something other than the weird plants that grew in the First Realm.

"Yeah? That sounds… I...I'm. Starving... Thanks." He relaxed slightly as food was distributed among them (with Cole threatening to dump ketchup in Jay's hair for hogging the fries), the mood significantly lighter than it had been in the waiting room. If he tried hard enough, he could almost forget why they were there. But the sling Nya wore was enough of a reminder that this ultimately proved to be unsuccessful.

"Is now a good time to swap stories? Cause I have questions." Lloyd stated tentatively, after taking a few bites of his burger, staring at Kai as if to make sure he wasn't going to go catatonic on them.

"Yes. We do have an awful lot to tell you, and I'm sure you've got plenty to share as well." Zane agreed.

"Oh, do we!" The master of water exclaimed, slamming down her cup of root beer. Pixal smiled ruefully from across the table.

"That's… Not an understatement."

"A-nd I was thinking. Maybe after that, we could call our parents?" Kai suggested, before chaos could break out. His sister leaned against him contentedly.

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Kai."

#myfics #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago #Kai #Skylor #Kailor #s9 aftermath #absorbing oni power is a bad idea #would not recommend #also Idk how to write hospitals ignore inaccuracies #pt2 coming eventually

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terriblelifechoices · 5 years

Note

How about Graves and Credence with prompt 103? Or 113

Sorry, @tora42 This one kind of got away from me.

From the send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble thing. To the surprise of probably no one, I fail at drabbles. What is brevity, anyway.

103. “Does this happen to you a lot? Because ‘not again’ isn’t the response I’d expect from someone I just found unconscious in my garden.”

“Is this really necessary?” Graves asked, trying – and failing, if Tina’s unimpressed expression was anything to go by – not to sound desperate.

“Well,” Newt began, in what Graves felt was a promisingly reasonable tone of voice. Graves had hired Newt as a favor to Theseus, but he’d always had a soft spot for the younger Scamander. “I suppose –”

“Yes,” said Tina, over anything else Newt might have said.

“Right,” Newt said, changing course with the split second rapidity that made him such a menace in the field. There were days when Graves deeply regretted hiring Newt. “It’s absolutely necessary.”

“Of course it is,” Graves muttered.

“Besides, it all works out rather nicely, doesn’t it?” Tina inquired. “Newt and I need a pet sitter, and you need something that will keep you out of trouble while you’re convalescing –”

“On administrative leave!” Graves interjected, affronted.

Tina had the audacity to roll her eyes at him. “While you’re convalescing on administrative leave,” she amended.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said Graves. “Why is everyone acting like I’ve never been shot before? I’m fine.”

Granted, it had been a lot easier to shake this sort of thing off when he’d been Tina’s age, but he was hardly on death’s doorstep. It had been a simple through and through GSW, with minimal muscle damage. Graves didn’t even really need the sling that everyone was (somewhat melodramatically, in his opinion) insisting that he wear; so far the fucking thing had hindered more than it had helped. Graves would never have fallen off of that damned ladder if he hadn’t been wearing it.

Unfortunately, no one else saw the ladder incident quite as reasonably as he did. Which was why his protege was now lecturing him as if she were his Great Aunt Ethel, and not young enough to be his daughter.

Tina nodded. “Right,” she said. “You’re Special Agent Percival fucking Graves: the man, the myth, the legend –” Each ridiculous epithet was accompanied with an equally ridiculous gesture. Graves had never seen anyone make jazz hands look sarcastic before. He was a little impressed in spite of himself.

“Is this level of sarcasm really necessary?” Graves asked.

Tina ignored him in favor of adding, “And you’re fine. You absolutely did not show up to my wedding six hours late with a GSW and faint during the reception!”

“I was not late!” Graves protested. “I showed up in time to walk you down the aisle, didn’t I?”

“You showed up thirty seconds before it was time to walk me down the aisle,” Tina shot back. “You were a member of my damned bridal party. You were supposed to be there at seven, and you went off and got yourself shot instead.”

Graves wanted to argue that point, and couldn’t. It was all true.

“I’m sorry,” he said, for the thousandth time. He meant it, every time. But he couldn’t erase the hurt he’d caused just because he meant it. Tina knew he meant it, and she’d forgive him when she was ready to. That was enough.

And, in the meantime, Graves would prove that he meant it by babysitting Tina and Newt’s menagerie of adopted strays.

Tina sighed. “You were there for the important part,” she conceded.

“And he’s looking after everyone while we’re gone,” Newt added. He made it sound like this was something Graves had volunteered to do, rather than something Seraphina and Tina had blackmailed him into. Newt was kind like that. Newt was always kind.

Graves had always liked that about him; had liked what it meant for Tina, who needed someone kind whether she would admit it or not. Graves could still remember the girl she’d been when they’d first met – the one who’d worn her reckless crusader’s heart on her sleeve and dared the world to try and break it. Twenty years old and fresh out of the Academy, Tina had been brilliant and sharp as mirror-glass – blinding when the light caught her just right, but terribly breakable, too. She’d needed someone kind to shelter her heart, although she never would have admitted it.

At twenty-six, Tina’s sharpness and brilliance were diamond, not glass. Anyone else would have let their heart go diamond hard to match, but not Tina. She was kind, too. Graves was glad that she and Newt had each other. They could shelter each other’s hearts, and keep the world from breaking them.

Graves held up the terrifyingly thick binder of care instructions Newt had shoved into his good arm. Someone – Graves strongly suspected Newt, who was prone to doodling during meetings he found too boring to pay attention to, which was pretty much all of them as far as Newt was concerned – had drawn most of Newt’s menagerie as mythological creatures on the front cover and titled it Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

“They won’t even know you’re gone,” he promised.

Tina smirked at him. “I’m going to remind you that you said that when we check in tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll have better things to do on your honeymoon,” Graves said blandly.

Tina’s answering smile had teeth in it this time. “I’m going to remind you that you said that, too.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” said Newt. “But just in case, maybe don’t leave anything valuable that you absolutely don’t want stolen where Cecil can get to it. And don’t be offended if Pickett doesn’t want anything to do with you. He’s gotten rather attached to me and –”

“You wrote all of that down,” Tina reminded him. “In sixteen point Times New Roman.”

“Sixteen, really?” Graves asked. He despaired of Newt’s approach to paperwork, he really did.

“I wanted to make it twenty-four, but Newt thought it was a bit insulting,” said Tina. “I did bold certain items for emphasis, though.”

“Keep giving me attitude, Goldstein. I outrank you.”

“Not while you’re on administrative leave, you don’t,” Tina said.

“We should head to the airport, Tina,” Newt said, obviously trying to head off another argument. “We don’t want to miss our flight.”

Graves gave him an unimpressed look, because that particular attempt at a distraction had been extremely unsubtle. Newt was a professional spy, for God’s sake. That was just embarrassing.

He was somewhat amused to find that Tina was giving her husband an identical unimpressed look.

Newt shrugged, not particularly bothered by their censure. “It worked, didn’t it?” he asked with a grin.

“I suppose it did,” Tina allowed. She let Newt tug her towards their front door, but couldn’t resist a few last minute instructions of her own. “Please try not to do anything stupid while we’re gone,” she said. “The number for the hotel is in the binder, and on the fridge next to the phone. And if you run into trouble, Credence can help you.”

“I’m sure Graves will be fine,” Newt said. “But if you need help feeding everyone, Credence did volunteer to help.”

“Leave, before I call in a favor and have your flight grounded out of spite,” Graves commanded, in lieu of saying that he’d rather lose a finger to one of Frank’s fits of temper than bother the only human member of Newt and Tina’s menagerie of adopted strays. Credence Barebone had suffered enough at the hands of someone wearing Graves’ face, and Graves could not bring himself to add to the harm that had already been done.

Tina and Newt both insisted that Credence bore Graves no ill-will for what Grindelwald had done. Graves appreciated their well-intentioned sugar-coating of the situation, but he was well aware of the fact that the mere sight of him still spooked the boy.

Credence had been part of the bridal party, too. Someone – Tina or Tina’s younger sister Queenie or maybe Credence himself – had managed to keep his interactions with Graves to the bare minimum. Graves had not actually had all that much to do with the wedding, outside of walking Tina down the aisle. He’d surreptitiously paid for as much of it as he could get away with, as was his right as Tina’s adopted older brother/surrogate father figure, but that was more or less the extent of his involvement. Credence had been very much in the thick of things. He’d been Queenie’s unofficial assistant for all wedding planning related duties. Graves had seen plenty of Queenie in the weeks leading up to the wedding, but he hadn’t interacted with Credence at all. It took real effort to avoid someone like that.

Graves had been a professional spy for longer than Credence had been alive, and he was not kind. Not the way that Tina and Newt were: a conscious choice made so consistently and so often that it became the default. Graves had closed the door on kindness long ago, trying to protect what was left of his heart. But even he had enough kindness left in him to recognize that the kindest thing he could do for Credence was to leave the boy alone.

“You are not actually a corvid,” Graves told Cecil, attempting to wrest his one of his cufflinks from the guinea pig’s greedy little paws without hurting him. “I know Newt raised you with the ravens, but you are a guinea pig and your obsession with shiny things makes no sense.”

Newt’s binder – which had actually been written in sixteen point Times New Roman, thank you so much, Tina – had expressly forbidden shaming Cecil for his terrible behavior, but as far as Graves was concerned, the furry little con artist had earned a healthy dose of Irish Catholic guilt. Cecil had managed to steal one of Graves’ cufflinks while Graves was still wearing it. Graves had met professional pickpockets who couldn’t manage the same feat, and it pissed him off that Cecil could.

Cecil made a pitiful crying noise, his dark eyes going liquid and pleading.

“No,” Graves said sternly, in the tone of voice that brought junior Agents to heel.

The pleading look intensified.

“No,” Graves said again, determined to hold his ground.

Cecil gave a little heartbroken chirp and relinquished his hold on Graves’ cufflink. His entire body radiated dejection.

“Oh, for –” Graves bit back a curse. He had gone toe to toe with Vinda Rosier, who had learned emotional manipulation at her father’s knee and perfected it under Grindelwald’s tutelage. Rosier hadn’t been able to break him, so Graves was absolutely not falling prey to the machinations of a guinea pig.

Cecil made another heartbroken little chirp, almost as if he were crying.

Could guinea pigs cry? Nothing in Newt’s ridiculous binder had indicated that they could, but Graves wouldn’t put it past this one.

“Look,” he said, feeling more than a little absurd. “Cufflinks are a choking hazard. You can have my tie bar instead if you leave my cufflinks alone. Does that sound fair?”

Cecil actually seemed to be considering that.

“You’re a fuzzy con artist,” Graves told him. He set Cecil back in his habitat and passed over his tie bar. Graves was a man of his word, even when dealing with guinea pigs. Cecil seemed pleased with this tribute, and scampered off to hide it.

Graves snorted in amusement, glad that none of his subordinates – or worse, Seraphina – could see him now. He dragged his tie off over his head and hung it on the corner of Cecil’s habitat. He told himself it was because it wouldn’t hang right without the tie bar, and not so the tiny grifter could use the shiny fabric as a victory flag.

The rest of Newt’s menagerie were fed and petted and – Jesus Christ, Newt, seriously? – sung to in short order. If footage of Graves singing to the lorikeets surfaced at the next Christmas party, Graves would know who to blame.

He saved Pickett for last, in case Pickett was still pissed about being left behind.

Graves actually liked Newt’s tiny demon cat. He had a weakness for anything with more fight in it than common sense. (See Exhibit A: Tina Goldstein.) Pickett was basically five and a half pounds of pure attitude. Graves had given up on trying to force Newt to leave the exploding ball of fluff at home after he’d seen the little cat savage a rogue operative on Newt’s behalf. Pickett always turned up in Newt’s pockets, anyway.

The earlier battle to evict Pickett from Newt’s coat pocket had been brief and very bloody, which was why Graves had donned a pair of oven mitts as a precautionary measure. The oven mitts were an eye-searing shade of pink with polka dotted ruffles. The right one advised Graves to “rock out with his crock out” and the left one featured an embroidered crock pot, just in case Graves failed to grasp the pun.

“Pickett?” Graves called. There was no answering growl from the cat carrier, which Graves did not think was a good sign. “Are you –” He cut himself off when he noticed that the door to the cat carrier was ever so slightly ajar.

Graves pulled one of the ridiculous oven mitts off and picked up the cat carrier, tilting it slightly so that the door swung completely open. Pickett failed to explode out of it like a miniature Tasmanian devil, which was his usual response to captivity. The cat carrier was empty.

“Well, fuck,” said Graves.

Two goddamn hours of fruitless searching proved that Pickett was nowhere to be found inside the house, and that Graves ought to gift the Goldstein-Scamander’s with the name of his cleaning service as a wedding present.

Graves had never really believed Newt when Newt said that Pickett could pick locks. Pickett was a cat, for fuck’s sake. Cats couldn’t pick locks. He still didn’t believe that, but he was fairly certain that Pickett, at least, understood how locks worked. Because Graves sure as hell hadn’t left the back door unlocked, much less open just wide enough for an undersized demon cat to escape out of.

If anything happened to Pickett while he was under Graves’ care, Tina would murder him. It would make the grudge she was carrying over his late arrival to and disruption of her wedding look like a walk in the park by a tranquil spring lake. No one held grudges like Tina Goldstein, except maybe her sister Queenie.

Graves grabbed a bag of cat treats and went to look for Pickett. He searched the yard methodically, working in a grid the way he would if he’d been looking for a missing person or a body.

“Pickett?” he called, shaking the bag of cat treats. Pickett could occasionally be bribed with treats, and he was hoping that the little cat would recognize the sound and come running. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

Newt and Tina lived on a two and a half acre plot that butted up against a nearby nature preserve. A lot of Newt’s strays came from the preserve; they seemed to show up outside the house whenever they were sick and in need of healing. Graves had no idea how Newt kept the wild animals from eating his (comparatively) more domesticated ones, but he’d seen Frank the bald eagle sunning himself in the windows with Cecil curled up on his back like Frank was a feather mattress and not a feathery predator more than once. It was adorable. He might have taken a picture, but he’d be damned if he admitted to doing so, even under torture. Special Agent Graves did not have unlikely animal friendship photos on his phone.

Credence Barebone lived in the little gamekeeper’s cottage on the back of the property. It was leftover from when the property and at least two of the surrounding homes had all been part of the same estate. It was the perfect size for a traumatized young man who simply needed time and space and a little peace and quiet to heal.

Graves didn’t realize how close he was to the cottage until he was practically standing in the front garden. Stained glass windchimes hung under the eaves, making a pleasant tinkling sound in the faint breeze. They threw colored flecks of light all over the cottage walls, blending nicely with the riot of color emerging from the flowerbeds. It looked nice, Graves thought. Peaceful.

He turned away, not wanting to bother the little cottage or it’s occupant. Except he still hadn’t found Pickett, and he could hardly say he had done his due diligence and looked everywhere if he didn’t at least ask Credence if he’d seen Pickett.

“Fuck,” Graves muttered.

Well. There was no help for it. He’d just have to ask.

Something above his head meowed.

Graves paused. Then he tipped his head back and looked up into the branches of the oak tree next to the cottage. Newt’s tiny demon cat stared down at him. Graves was no expert in feline body language, but he was pretty sure that Pickett was laughing at him.

“Pickett,” he said sternly. “Come down here.”

Pickett was definitely laughing at him now. He meowed again. Graves was pretty sure Pickett had just said, Why don’t you come up here and make me, human.

“Fine,” said Graves, toeing off his shoes and socks. “Be that way. You think you’re the only one who can climb trees? Because newsflash: I can climb trees too.” He took the stupid sling off and dropped it next to his shoes and socks, using his good arm to boost himself in the tree.

His suit pants had definitely not been made with climbing trees in mind. Graves gritted his teeth and concentrated on getting closer to Pickett, who had retreated farther up the tree just to be a dick.

“Please come down,” Graves tried. “Newt will be upset if something happens to you.”

Pickett growled at the mention of Newt. It sounded a lot like the little cat had just blown a raspberry at him.

“Okay, fine. How about bribery? Would bribing you with wet food work?” Graves inquired.

Pickett turned and climbed higher. Graves swore under his breath and did his best to follow. He was not prepared for a large feathery creatures to suddenly fly at his face.

“Jesus fuck!” said Graves, jerking backwards. His left heel slid off the branch he’d been standing on and Graves flailed. He tried to catch his balance, but his injured arm wouldn’t support his weight.

Graves’ last thought before he fell out of the fucking tree was that this was going to be a really embarrassing way to die.

Frank tapped at Credence’s window, trying to get his attention.

Credence unlatched the window in front of his desk and let it swing open. Frank landed on the windowsill, which was scratched and worn from frequent visits.

“Hi, Frank,” Credence said. He reached a hand out carefully, waiting to see if Frank wanted to be petted.

Frank blinked one large golden eye at him and bowed his head. He let Credence stroke his head and scratch gently for just a second, and then he took a half step back and fluffed his feathers up.

“What’s up?” Credence asked.

There was something magical about interacting with Newt’s creatures. It was like one of the stories he’d read, once he was free of Ma’s influence and allowed to read stories that weren’t in the Bible. Newt was probably not actually magic the way that Daine Sarrasri was, but he talked to his creatures like they were people and tried to protect everyone the way that Daine did, which Credence figured made him the closest thing the real world had to a Wildmage. Newt’s creatures always seemed smarter than other animals, the way the ones who’d been exposed to Daine did. Credence couldn’t understand them as intuitively as Newt could, but there were days when he swore Frank was trying to communicate with him. He was just too dumb to understand him.

Frank considered Credence for a long moment. Then he hopped forward and screeched in Credence’s face.

Credence yelped in surprise and almost fell out of his desk chair. “Frank!” he said, channeling Newt as best he could. “That was rude! What are you yelling at me for?”

Frank hopped on Credence’s desk. He raised his wings like he was trying to make himself bigger, shifting his weight back and forth in agitation.

“What?” Credence asked. “What’s wrong? Do you miss Newt?”

Frank screeched again.

“I am not playing twenty questions with you if all you’re going to do is yell at me!” Credence yelled back.

Frank took off out the window, knocking books and knicknacks off of Credence’s desk as he went. Then he swooped back and landed on the windowsill and screamed again.

“What?” Credence asked again. “Do you want me to follow you?”

Frank bobbed his head.

“Did you just nod?” Credence asked.

Frank flapped his wings impatiently, as if to say, Yes, I did. Keep up, would you?

“Right,” Credence said. “Okay. I’ll just … follow you outside, I guess.”

Newt made communicating with his creatures look so much easier than this. Credence wondered what his secret was. He felt stupid for not asking before now, but Newt always seemed so magical that Credence hadn’t wanted to risk breaking the spell just in case it broke everything else along with it. Credence had been free of Ma’s influence for over a year now, and sometimes he still woke up thinking that he’d dreamed the whole thing up; that it was just an illusion he’d built in his mind to shield himself from the pain while she beat him. Real life could not possibly be this magical.

Frank took off as soon as Credence opened his front door, heading straight for the oak tree in the front garden. He didn’t land in the branches the way Credence expected him to, though. He landed on the ground instead.

There was a man lying unconscious at Frank’s feet. Or at least, Credence hoped he was just unconscious.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” he asked Frank.

Frank fluffed his feathers up again and looked guilty.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, you did,” Credence breathed.

Frank made an indignant sound.

“Or … not?” Credence asked.

Frank opened his wings and flapped them impatiently at Credence.

“Right,” said Credence. “I guess you want me to check, huh? Okay. I can do that.” He stared at the hopefully unconscious man for another minute. “Maybe,” he admitted.

If the man needed medical attention, Newt and Tina and Queenie and Jacob would have helped him without a second thought.

Credence had plenty of second thoughts. What if the man was an enemy agent, looking for Newt or Tina? What if he wanted to hurt Credence? What if he wanted to hurt Frank? Or one of Newt’s other creatures?

Credence also wanted to be good, like Newt and Tina and Queenie and Jacob were. He wanted to help people the way that they’d helped him.

“Okay,” he said again. He approached the man cautiously, just in case he was an enemy agent and only pretending to be unconscious. There was something strangely familiar about the man’s broad shoulders and the faint touch of silver threading through his dark hair. Credence didn’t realize who he was until he’d pressed two shaking fingers to the man’s throat looking for a pulse and got a good look at his profile.

He knew that profile. He knew the face it belonged to – both the real one and the fake.

Credence turned the man’s face gently to the side, running his fingers along the stubborn jawline to behind his ear, where the control chip for a Protean mask would rest. He couldn’t feel any kind of telltale bump or incision scar. This wasn’t a clever holographic illusion.

This was the real Mr. Graves.

Credence couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse. He had never apologized to the real Mr. Graves for all the things he’d wanted from the fake one, but he was shamefully certain that the real Mr. Graves knew about them anyway. There was rather a lot of surveillance footage, after all.

Thinking about the surveillance footage made Credence want to dig a hole in the garden and bury himself in it. Grindelwald hadn’t needed to work very hard to make Credence do what he wanted. All it had taken was a handsome face and the odd caress to go along with his liar’s tongue. Credence should have known better than to think that someone like Mr. Graves would ever want someone like him.

Credence knew from long experience that if he continued down that line of thought he’d wind up having a panic attack in his bedroom closet again. He shoved the knot of confusion and residual shame down and made himself focus on Mr. Graves.

He pressed his fingers to Mr. Graves’ throat again, resolutely not thinking about what it had been like to tuck his face against the curve of the fake Mr. Graves’ throat – Grindelwald had smelled of blood beneath Mr. Graves’ stolen cologne, but Credence hadn’t cared because he’d thought that Mr. Graves – that Grindelwald – would keep him safe.

He’d never dared to touch the real Mr. Graves before this.

The heartbeat under his fingertips was strong and steady and strangely ordinary on such an extraordinary man.

“Thank God,” Credence breathed. He sat back on his heels, trying to think of what to do next. His first instinct was to call Newt and Tina, because Newt and Tina were professional spies and terrifyingly competent at everything they did, albeit in different ways.

Newt and Tina were on their honeymoon, though. They had both assured him that he could call them at any time, but Credence would rather have cut off his own arm than actually do it. He would have to handle this himself.

Mr. Graves made a faint noise and stirred slightly.

“Oh no,” Credence said. He had a vague notion that you weren’t supposed to move unconscious people in case they had spinal damage or brain injuries. He was less clear on whether or not you should allow the recently unconscious to move for the same reasons, but he didn’t want Mr. Graves to add potential spinal damage on top of his recent gunshot wound. He reached out and grasped Mr. Graves’ shoulder, trying to keep him from moving.

Mr. Graves twisted, moving faster than a striking snake. He grabbed Credence’s wrist and used it to roll them both so that Credence was pinned beneath him.

Frank screeched in surprise and took off for the safety of the oak tree, yelling abuse down at both of them.

Credence yelped in surprise and said something blasphemous, looking up at Mr. Graves in stunned incomprehension.

“Credence?” asked Mr. Graves, sounding just as baffled as Credence felt.

“Um. Yes,” said Credence. “Sorry. I was trying to keep you from moving, in case you had a spinal injury or something, but I guess you’re okay?”

“Why would I have a spinal injury?” Mr. Graves asked, still sounding baffled. He let Credence up.

“I – you were unconscious,” Credence told him.

“I was – Fuck,” said Mr. Graves. “Not again.”

Credence stared at him. That was … not really the response he was expecting, honestly.

“What?” asked Mr. Graves.

“Nothing,” Credence said quickly. “It’s just … Does this happen to you a lot? Because ‘not again’ isn’t the response I’d expect from someone I just found unconscious in my garden.”

“Not a lot, no,” said Mr.Graves, wincing as he reached up to brush leaves out of his hair. “There may have been an incident with a ladder earlier this week.”

“An incident,” Credence repeated. He was aware of the fact that he was still staring at Mr. Graves and that it was rude, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop.

Mr. Graves raised an eyebrow at him. “Tina didn’t tell you?”

“Not exactly,” Credence said, in lieu of admitting that what Tina had actually said was that Mr. Graves had the survival instincts of a squirrel on methamphetamines and couldn’t be trusted to stay out of trouble without a babysitter.

“Ah,” said Mr. Graves. “Well. I may have slipped.” He gestured to the sling lying abandoned on the ground next to his socks and shoes. “The damn thing got in my way.”

Credence ran that sentence through his ‘spy to normal people’ filter and suspected that what Mr. Graves meant was that he had slipped off the ladder and hit his head. If he’d done that while he was wearing the sling, that made this the second time in under a week he had fallen off of something and knocked himself unconscious. Mr. Graves’ exasperated not again supported that theory.

“Right,” he said, standing up. “We need to go to Medical.”

“What? Why?” Mr. Graves asked, getting up. He didn’t move like someone who was recovering from a gunshot wound, but he was favoring his right arm just a little. He reached for Credence, cupping Credence’s face in his left hand and peering into his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“Not for me,” Credence said, stepping back so that he wouldn’t lean pathetically into Mr. Graves’ touch the way he used to lean into Grindelwald’s. “For you.”

“For me?” Mr. Graves repeated, sounding baffled again.

Credence put his hands on his hips and tried to channel the Goldstein sisters. “I found you unconscious on the ground after you fell out of a tree,” he said, taking a guess at what had happened. “I’m guessing you also fell off a ladder at some point, which means that this is the second time this week you’ve knocked yourself unconscious. You need to go to Medical so they can check you for a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” said Mr. Graves. “Trust me. I’ve had enough of them to recognize the symptoms. I appreciate your concern, Credence, but I’m fine.”

Credence folded his arms across his chest. “You were unconscious,” he said.

“I was unconscious for what, not even five minutes? That doesn’t even count. It’s more like being momentarily stunned,” Mr. Graves said, dismissive.

Credence was starting to understand why Tina thought that Mr. Graves couldn’t be left to his own devices. He’d never met anyone with such blatant disregard for their own health. It was a little infuriating. Credence had ignored his hurts because he had to. Because he couldn’t afford to go to a hospital and he’d been too afraid to even he could have afforded it. Ma had forbidden them to go to the doctor. She hadn’t wanted any record of the things she’d done.

Mr. Graves had access to the best medical care the Agency could pay for, which meant that it was good enough to almost qualify as a divine miracle. If he chose not to make use of those services, well. He was a grown man and he could make his own decisions.

Mr. Graves peered up at the tree. He did a little running leap and caught one of the branches, hanging from it by his good arm in a way Credence would have found brain-meltingly attractive if he had not been completely furious.

“Are you stupid?” he demanded, grabbing hold of Mr. Graves’ belt when Mr. Graves twisted to haul himself back into the tree he’d literally just fallen out of. “Or brain damaged?”

Mr. Graves dropped out of the tree and gently pried Credence’s hand off of his belt. “I beg your pardon?”

“You just fell out of that tree,” Credence said. “Was once not enough? Are you trying to give yourself brain damage? Because you could just let Queenie hit you over the head with one of her frying pans if that’s what you want. It’d be faster and less traumatic.”

Mr. Graves stared at him. Credence suspected that he was not exactly making a good first impression on the real Mr. Graves and decided that he didn’t really care. If Mr. Graves wanted to foolishly risk his own life and upset the people who cared about him, he could do it somewhere else.

“Pickett,” said Mr. Graves.

“What?”

Mr. Graves pointed. “Pickett’s in that tree. I was trying to get him down. Frank startled me.”

“Oh,” said Credence. “Why didn’t you just tell Pickett to come down?”

“Pickett’s a cat. They don’t exactly do things on command.”

Credence tilted his head back, peering into the leaves until he spotted Pickett’s surprisingly well camouflaged tabby stripes. “Pickett,” he said sternly.

“Mrow,” said Pickett, defiant.

“Pickett, you get out of that tree right now,” Credence said.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to – son of a bitch,” said Mr. Graves.

Pickett wound his way through the branches and down the tree trunk. The bells on his collar jingled cheerfully as he landed on the ground between them.

Credence bent down and picked the little cat up. He didn’t have a convenient jacket pocket to tuck Pickett into, so he settled for putting Pickett on his shoulder instead. “You and I are going to have a long talk about this,” he warned. “And I’m going to tell Newt on you. Just you see if I don’t.”

Pickett gave a very innocent sounding meow. Credence did not believe it for a second, but he scratched Pickett’s ears anyway.

“And you,” Credence said to Mr. Graves, “are coming with me to get your head checked out.” He took off towards the house, not waiting to see if Mr. Graves would follow. He couldn’t make Mr. Graves come with him – Mr. Graves was stronger and better trained than he was – but Pickett needed to be brushed and fed and someone had to be on hand to dial 911 just in case Mr. Graves decided to do something stupid.

“Do you know,” Mr. Graves said, sounding amused. “I thought you were afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” said Credence. It would have been better if he’d been afraid, but he wasn’t.

“Yes, I can see that,” said Mr. Graves. He was quiet for a moment. “I owe you an apology.”

Credence stopped. “What?”

Mr. Graves looked him in the eye. Grindelwald had never bothered to do that, not that he’d needed to. Credence wouldn’t have dared to meet his gaze back then. It sent a weird flutter through Credence’s stomach now. He liked that Mr. Graves treated him like a man – like an equal.

“I’m sorry,” said Mr. Graves. “Grindelwald wronged you, but he did it with my face and my name, and I owe you an apology for that. I should have spoken to you sooner, but I thought it would be kinder to leave you be. You didn’t seem to like the sight of me.”

Credence had rather the opposite problem, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to admit that.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Credence said. “If anything, I’m the one who owes you an apology. I wanted –” He made a faint gesture in Mr. Graves’ direction, trying to communicate all the shameful things he’d wanted, back when he thought that Grindelwald was Mr. Graves. He had lusted after Mr. Graves’ body, and that seemed disrespectful now that he knew the real man.

“Well,” said Mr. Graves. “Either we both owe each other an apology, or neither of us do. Perhaps we can start over. Percival Graves,” he said, holding out his hand.

Credence shook it. “Credence Barebone,” he said.

Mr. Graves smiled. It was a brief, fleeting thing that made Credence’s insides feel like there was a swarm of butterflies inside of them.

“There’s an Italian restaurant near headquarters,” Mr. Graves said. “What do you say we go there for dinner after Medical clears me of imaginary head injuries?”

“I’m starting to see why Tina says that there’s nothing in your head to injure,” Credence said, and then the rest of what Mr. Graves said hit him. “Wait, dinner?”

Mr. Graves shrugged. “We have some friends in common,” he said. “If we’re starting over, perhaps we can be friends as well. Dinner seems like a good place to start.”

The swarm of butterflies were doing the butterfly equivalent of the Agency’s obstacle course with his internal organs.

This is not a date, Credence told himself. Mr. Graves was just being nice.

“I’d like that,” he said.

#my fic #graves/credence #fbawtft #tora42 #ask me anything

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spnjediavenger · 5 years

Text

White Wolf Chapter 7: Hunter’s Promise

Disclaimers: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters

Time frame: Late S5

Spoilers: Season 5 spoilers?

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: panic attack, one implication and a mention of rape, angst AF

Notes: Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! And much love to those who have liked and/or reposted!!! <3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, mini chapter 5.5, Chapter 6

Chapter 7: Hunter’s Promise

“Wait; you’re telling me Lucifer had her?”

“What happened, is she ok?”

“How the hell did he get her?”

“Cas had her warded just like us.”

“How-“

“Would you two idjits shut up for a second and let me talk?!”

Sam and Dean fell silent at Bobby’s yell, pausing in their rushed questioning.

When Bobby and the guys had returned home, they were greeted by Crowley. The brothers looked confused and Bobby explained that he had the demon retrieve Elliana while they finished dealing with the whole Pestilence situation. At the slight hostility on their faces, Crowley had assured them he only snapped the girl to Bobby’s and remained downstairs; he also commented that ‘Lucifer has turned her into a bloody mess – in the emotional sense.’

Crowley took his leave as Bobby tried to explain what went on. At least everything he knew – and he didn’t know much.

“All I know is the damn demon that killed her folks somehow found and possessed her, poofed her to Ohio, and dropped her off with Lucifer. He messed with her head then my contact found her. Crowley said she hasn’t said a thing since. Just been up in her room, huddled in the corner, terrified,” Bobby sighed as he finished, eyes downcast. He had met Elliana when she was hunting alone and, like many others she had met, had grown quite fond of her. It hurt him to see her like this just as much as it did the boys.

Sam and Dean gave each other worried glances before heading for the stairs to try and talk to Ellie.

“Boys!” Bobby called, making them pause on the steps. “My contact doesn’t know what Lucifer did or made her see - but she said Ellie won’t even let anyone touch her.”

The brothers shared another concerned look and continued up to her room. They peered in, the door open, and their hearts shattered at what they saw.

Elliana was sat in the farthest corner of the room, sitting on the ground with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around Anaya; they also noticed the tearstains on her cheeks and her body slightly shaking.

Dean looked to Sam, lost on what to do. Sam quietly cleared his throat before speaking softly.

“Hey, Ellie. Can uh…can we come in?”

When they got no response, Sam nodded his head towards the girl, and the boys slowly walked into the room; they stopped a few feet in front of her, not wanting to scare her.

Dean crouched down to Ellie’s level, Sam following suit. “Hey, kid,” he spoke softly. “How ya holdin’ up?”

Still nothing.

They sighed lightly and Sam spoke again. “Look, Elliana, we don’t know what Luc- um…what he showed you or what you saw…and we know it must have been a lot to take in. Is there anything we can do to help you right now?” Sam had seen Ellie tense up and let out a small, almost non-existent whimper when he started saying ‘Lucifer’. It broke Sam’s heart and filled Dean’s with fury, seeing how scared he made her.

Ellie finally opened her eyes, but looked directly at the ground. She had pushed some of the images away that Lucifer brought up, but her mind was still swimming with raw emotion.

She shook her head at Sam’s question and he shared a look with Dean again. Elliana wished there was something they could do - but she knew there wasn’t. She just wanted the memories to go away.

“Alright. Well…you know where we’ll be tonight if you need us or need anything. Ok?” Dean asked.

Ellie nodded her head before turning it into Anaya’s fur, squeezing her a little tighter.

Sam went to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze, only for Ellie to whimper and shrink away from his hand, leaving him a little hurt.

He nodded and stood up to leave, his brother following him out of the room.

After Elliana was alone, it took hours for her to feel comfortable and safe enough to move from her spot in the corner to the bed, which rested with one side up against the wall. Finding enough comfort in this, Ellie finally slid under the covers, her dog jumping up to lay next to her, scooted as close to the wall as she could get, and closed her eyes.

In the middle of the night, Sam was woken from his spot on the couch by a constant whining and a wet nose pushing into his shoulder. He ran a groggy hand over his face and turned to see Anaya standing next to him, looking almost frantic. She softly barked and ran a few feet towards the stairs, then looked back, as if asking Sam to follow.

The younger Winchester’s eyes widened a bit, picking up on her behavior, and ran upstairs after her. He turned the corner into Ellie’s room to find her writhing violently in her bed.

Sam ran over and put a hesitant hand on her arm, lightly shaking her as she began talking in her sleep.

“Please…stop- don’t hurt me…no…don’t. Don’t! Please!” Elliana screamed, shooting up in the bed. This had alerted Dean and Bobby, who ran in, guns drawn for whatever might have been hurting her.

“Ell- Ellie!” Sam called, grasping her flailing arms.

“Please stop! No!” she yelled again.

“Ellie, it’s alright! It was just a dream! It’s me, it’s Sam!” Sam tried again, loosening his grip on her but his eyes were begging to meet hers.

Elliana finally snapped out of it but couldn’t stop her heart from pounding and lungs from heaving; she felt like someone was sitting on her chest, the emotions and pain from her nightmare consuming her.

“S-Sam,” she sobbed, grabbing onto his arms. She tried to steady her breathing but came up short, only managing painful gasps. “I can’t- I can’t b-breathe!”

Dean turned to Bobby and instructed him to go grab some water as he made his way over to Sam and Ellie.

“Alright, kiddo, it’s ok,” he said soothingly but urgently, knowing they needed to calm her down. “I want you to let Sammy pull you onto his lap, is that ok? You know we’re not gonna hurt you – it’s alright.”

Through her hyperventilating, Ellie hesitantly nodded, not being able to help tensing a bit when Sam grabbed her.

“Ok, I want you to feel Sam’s breathing; can you do that?” Ellie fought her mind to focus enough to follow Dean’s instructions and nodded, feeling the steady rise and fall of Sam’s chest. “Alright. I want you to try and match his breathing, ok? Deep breaths.”

Elliana tried taking a breath but practically choked on it as a sob came out instead.

“Easy; it’s ok. Try again,” Sam soothed. He had one arm around her shoulders, and used the other hand to carefully brush the hair out of her face.

Dean took one of Ellie’s hands in his own and placed the other on Anaya, who had yet to stop whining.

“You’re doin’ great, sweetheart,” Dean praised. “Now try and focus on us.”

Elliana gently grasped Anaya’s red fur and let the boys gently coax her. Her labored breathing had eased up, but were replaced with tears.

“It’s alright, E. We’re right here,” Sam whispered, pulling her into a light hug. When he felt her arms wrap around his middle, he hugged her tighter, letting her softly cry into his shoulder.

He and Dean became a little more at ease seeing she was calming down, but were terrified at what had just happened. They had seen Ellie break down before when Gabriel had died – but they had never seen her so afraid. So broken.

Bobby came in and set a glass down on the nightstand, made sure Elliana was alright, and left, thinking it was best to limit the number of people in the room.

Once Ellie had her breathing under control, she focused on everything else around her – the soft whispers of encouragement from the boys; Dean’s calloused hand gently rubbing her arm; the feeling of safety in Sam’s embrace and his hand running through her hair. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“It was the vamp hunt,” she whispered.

Sam looked down at the fragile girl in his arms, her voice muffled. “What, sweetheart?”

“The vampire hunt. The one when I called Dean. I- I never… I wasn’t able to kill him… he was too strong… I knew him. I knew him before and he was back but he was turned… I had everything but he- he was too strong,” Elliana began crying again, voice quivering. “No one noticed him take me and he- he-“ a sob cut Ellie off and she turned her head back into Sam. “He raped me,” she cried.

Sam and Dean’s heads shot up, a mixture of anger and sorrow in their eyes. They felt bad that Elliana had to go through that and that she felt so terrible, but they were furious that someone could do that to an innocent girl.

“I guess my mind repressed it or something. I- I remember being out of it for a couple weeks,” Ellie sniffled. “At the time I thought it was just from him feeding off my blood.”

Sam hugged the girl tighter, resting his chin on her head. “It’s alright. You’re ok now. We got you,” he whispered, at a loss for anything else to say.

“And that’s what he made you see?” Dean whispered, emotion making his voice a little rough.

Ellie nodded and turned her face back into Sam’s shoulder, her eyelids suddenly becoming heavy.

“Think you’re ready to try and go back to sleep?” the younger Winchester said gently. When the girl nodded again, Sam picked her up and placed her on the bed. When he went to leave, Elliana grabbed his arm, making him turn back her way.

“Please don’t leave,” she whispered/whimpered.

Sam turned to Dean, who nodded his head before giving Ellie’s hand a quick squeeze. Dean left the room and Sam laid down next to Ellie and wrapped a protective arm around his adoptive sister. As Ellie rested her head on him and slipped into unconsciousness, Sam’s mind was whirring. With everything that’s been going on, now Lucifer captures Elliana and brings this up. And he had no idea what to do.

Elliana started shifting a bit and let out a few quiet whimpers; Sam pulled her closer and ran a hand through her hair, watching her relax again. He couldn’t help but smile a bit, seeing her face soften. When he thought about it, he and his brother were no strangers to struggle; and if he and Dean were able to help her tonight, they could surely help her in the coming days.

Sam finally closed his eyes and allowed sleep to come, being more sure of himself that Elliana wouldn’t have to go through this alone.

Morning came and when they woke up, neither Ellie nor Sam spoke of the previous night. In fact, the next few days had panned out just about the same each time, Sam and Dean taking turns on who would stay with her. And each morning, the two of them would get ready and join the other brother and Bobby for breakfast.

After four days of almost pure silence, and Ellie just sat there picking at her food like usual, Dean spoke up.

“Still feelin’ pretty lousy?”

Elliana just shrugged and looked anywhere but his eyes.

Dean thought for a moment.

“I know there’s a lot going on right now,” he said. “But what do you say we take a day off? Help you forget for a bit? Hell, we could all use a break; fight’s still gonna be there tomorrow.”

Dean smiled a bit when Ellie finally looked up at him and nodded.

“Sounds good,” she said.

“Alright!” Dean said. “And let’s not forget pie.”

“Dude, what is it with you and pie?” Sam asked, partially exasperated.

“Pie fixes everything,” his brother said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. This got a small giggle from Elliana, making both boys’ faces brighten.

“We got a smile,” Sam noted, a smile on his own face.

“You’re off to a good start,” Bobby said, getting up to clear the table.

Amazing was really the only way Elliana could describe that day. She still had one hell of a darkness inside her, but throughout the day she had slowly started feeling a little better, smiling more, and enjoyed going out with the boys.

They had gone hiking, visited a lake near Bobby’s place, and yes – they went and got pie. The boys got it to go and drove to one of the beautiful plains of South Dakota; they parked Baby in the middle of a field and enjoyed their desert, idly chatting about anything and everything except the supernatural.

Sam and Dean sat on the car’s hood, watching Ellie throw a ball for Anaya, the dog joyfully prancing after it through the tall grass. When she returned, she continued going until she stood in front of Dean, placing the ball in his lap, and stepping back to wag her tail at him, tongue lolling from her mouth.

Dean welcomed a crooked smile and tossed the ball as far as he could. Anaya let out an excited yip, making Ellie giggle as she made her way over to the boys and sit between them on Baby.

The boys smiled at her and scooted a bit to give her more room. They each put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into Sam.

“Thank you guys,” she said. “I know I’m gonna be going through hell with this stuff but…thank you for giving me today. I had a great time.”

“No problem, kiddo,” Dean smiled as he pulled away to throw the ball for Anaya again.

“You’re family, Ellie. And we’ll be with you through this thing; every step of the way,” Sam said, placing a kiss on her temple. She smiled.

“You guys promise?”

“Hunter’s promise,” Dean said, holding a pinkie out like a child. He grinned when Ellie giggled again and linked her pinkie with his.

Elliana felt a warmth spread in her chest at the boys’ affections, finding comfort in them. She knew this peace would only hold out for so long and it would be a short time until she felt the emotional turmoil or had another panic attack; but she wasn’t worried. Because her family was going to be there to help her through it.

Elliana’s Journal ->

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