#I really tried to make her both ghostly and eerie
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whats hollyleaf like in your au?
I'm gonna be completely transparent. With all the talk about canon!her recently, I'm terrified of talking about WCR!Her. But, screw it. Let's be brave!
Hollyleaf
Well, let's start with the basics! Hollyleaf is a large, long-legged, pure black molly with a rip in her ear post-OOTS, long, soft fur, a big bushy tail, and pale green eyes.
Yes, Post-OOTS. Hollyleaf manages to survive the Great Battle when Dovewing slams her full weight into Thistleclaw, who is attacking Ivypool for being a 'traitor'. Since she isn't attacked by a Dark Forest cat the way she was, she makes it through the battle.
Hollykit is born to Leafpool and Crowfeather, and given to Squirrelflight and an unknowing Brambleclaw to raise alongside her 2 brother, Lionkit and Jaykit.
From an early age, she is inspired by her father and wishes to be the best cat she can be for Thunderclan.
She is initially ambitious about being a Medicine Cat, with the freedoms and power the position easily applies to its holder. She and Lionpaw are both assigned to Leafpool, but with Hollypaw being squeamish and Lionpaw being... Lionpaw... They're both reassigned. Lionpaw is assigned to Brightheart, and Hollypaw is assigned to Ashfur...
Ashfur is an AWFUL mentor. He constantly berates Hollypaw, drilling Starclan and The Warrior Code until her as hard as he can. When things come down to it, I'm not sure if Hollypaw fights him or Lionpaw steps in to try and help his sister, only leading to that horrible fight... But I know that no matter what happens, Brambleclaw STILL fails to see the real problem, and Hollypaw STILL takes guilt on board and begins to obsess over being a "thinker", a politician, someone who will fix a problem, no matter the cost.
When Swallowkit, Thistlekit and Sedgekit go missing in the tunnels, Hollypaw, Lionpaw, Jaypaw, Heatherpaw and Breezepaw go through said tunnels to find them. However, there is now a twist to it. Lionpaw tries to keep things a secret, and Jaypaw has doubts that kittens would go into such an eerie place, but Hollypaw?
Hollypaw can hear them. She can hear a lot more than she wants to, and she can't control it.
Hollyleaf! Third cat of the Prophecy! The Clairvoyant, capable of hearing and sensing things over a great distance. Lionblaze's eyes turn red, Jayfeather's turn silver, Dovewing's turn blue, and Hollyleaf's eyes turn a bright amber... The same colour as Leafpool's.
She has the hearing power until her mental breakdown, where she begs Starclan to take it away from her and give it to a "better cat". Starclan picked Dovekit, and swapped her would-be power. The ability to sense disaster. For any Pokemon fans, think Absol. Can sense when a disaster is about to strike. Time stops, just for a moment, and she can sense what is about to happen. When she controls this, it can give her a major advantagetk strategically think about her move, but she'll have to do it quickly. You can feel when something will happen. This doesn't mean you can prevent it. Hollyleaf is no longer The Clairvoyant, the title goes to Dovewing. Hollyleaf is The Sighted.
Before this happens though, she goes back into the Tunnels to hone her power, making friends with Fallen Leaves and getting close with the ghostly trans molly. She connects with Fallen Leaves and the two care deeply for one another. At first Fallen Leaves is apprehensive, it's been so long since she's had a real connection with anyone, and Hollyleaf could just leave... But when Hollyleaf gives her reassurance that she will always come back, and that she really does care, it allows Fallen Leaves to not only get closer to the entrance of the tunnels, but to begin aging alongside Hollypaw/Hollyleaf. Finally beginning to not only accept her death, but heal from the traumatic experience of it.
She stays in Thunderclan after the reveal and her murder of Ashfur, but her mental state is frail and all eyes are on her, she suffers hallucinations, flashbacks, and intrusive thoughts... She is given Dovepaw to mentor, the kid who Starclan gave Hollyleaf's power to. Hollyleaf does her absolute best to support Dovewing, and she's doing a better job than Lionblaze is, especially as he is now Ivypaw's mentor.
Hollyleaf and Dovepaw go on the Beaver Journey together, and from that point on it solidifies Dovepaw's place as the 4th Prophecy cat.
She and The Three work together, gathering information on Starclan and The Place of No Stars, while also trying to get through life in a time of heavy political unrest. Ivypaw and other Dark Forest trainees are manipulating political figures into battle.
Hollyleaf had no idea how bad things were getting for Ivypaw, how deeply she was falling into a trap. She ripped into Lionblaze, who had been neglecting his apprentice a bit to focus on Prophecy work. If she could do it and still be a mentor, so could he.
Hollyleaf is kinda popular in Thunderclan, her attitude mellows throughout OOTS as she learns to be a member of her community rather than a servant of Starclan.
It starts with the new Novella-turned-Super-Edition; Hollyleaf's Nightmare. Hollyleaf is in a small, safe tunnel with Fallen Leaves after losing her overstimulating hearing power. Only a single day later. They head deeper into a tunnel, when Hollyleaf suddenly gets sleepy. Fallen Leaves promises she'll wake Hollyleaf up.
"I will wake you up when you've snored 100 times!"
"Thanks, Fall, I.... Wait a minute, I don't snore!"
"Hollyleaf. You could wake the dead."
So she has a nap, and during this time, her new disaster power is about to come through... but... The Tunnels are not a place that is easy for any spirit to reach. Starclan or Beyond.
Hollyleaf dreams about a swirling misty field, but it's cold, and gray. There are no signs of life aside with the tiny plants that seem to struggle in the thick, heavy air... She steps through, only to no-clip fall through the ground and into The Dark Forest, where she is quickly ushered by an invisible force into one of the many prison cells.
By this time, Hollyleaf's sleeping body is in visible distress. Fallen Leaves is unable to wake her, and demands that Rock, the God of Time, do it. When Rock refuses, Fallen Leaves uses a tiny tunnel to get to Midnight, God of Dimensions. She begs Midnight to help, to do something, anything...
Midnight, seer of different dimensions and teacher of Fire to the cats, sends Fallen Leaves into the Dream World, to rescue Hollyleaf.
But Hollyleaf is clever, and able to escape the prison, setting off a riot. She and Fallen Leaves escape; though... When she gets out of the tunnel... The Lake looks quite different.
She and Fallen Leaves have gone back in time, as time and space are unstable in the tunnels. She lets Fallen Leaves go and see her family, though they will not be able to see her, while Hollyleaf stays and heals from an injury she got escaping Hell.
In the meantime, a baby Badger wanders up to Hollyleaf, starving and scared. Hollyleaf starts a fire, just like her mom... Aunt... taught her to, and cooks up some grilled pheasant. The baby Badger is thankful, and says so, startling Hollyleaf. She asks Hollyleaf how to start a fire, and when Hollyleaf shows her, she introduces herself... as Midnight.
The young god goes along her way, leaving Hollyleaf alone to think about her aunt. Her mom. Her other mom.... What even is Squilf to her anymore?
It's a lot to think about, and even more to miss.
When Fallen Leaves comes back, she and Hollyleaf head into the deepest tunnel to get back home. Hollyleaf heads back to Thunderclan, and finally sits down to have a talk with Leafpool.
Later, during Squirrelflight's Freedom, when Squilf steps down as deputy in a final act of defiance, Bramblestar chooses Hollyleaf for his second deputy. She knows what game Bramblestar is trying to play, and she's not interested. She takes his offer, but not his apology.
During TBC book 2, Hollyleaf sprains her leg BADLY. She was just out hunting when some thawing dirt gave way and the next thing she knew Jayfeather was fussing over her while his new husband Fuzzyleaf (Fuzzball) was gently massaging her hip. He confines her to her bed and Squilf is made temporary deputy against her will... She does it for Hollyleaf.
In time, he legs heals up, and she is torn between doing what is easy (killing Bramblestar's Imposter, as many times as it may take) or doing what is right, which is letting him at least have his body back. She dislikes her former father, but she isn't cruel. She knew if it was her in that situation she would be desperate for help from anyone.
She helps him, because helping people is the right thing to do, even if you dislike them.
During ASC, everybody is gunning for her to be leader. Dandeliontuft most of all wants another cat to replace her father, and places down the very first Thunderclan Leader Vote.
Bramblestar hates it and lashes out against them all before Starclan's divine intervention strikes hard and fast...
Hollyleaf quickly made aware that going to the Moonpool is not any sort of option to take. Something has cursed it, and no cat an get through. Breezepelt was mauled and may not survive, simply for trying to claim 9 lives.
Until things settle, Hollyleaf will call herself Hollystar, and will fight against Berrystar and Splashstar with clever tactics while others try and see if they can break the curse that withholds Starclan's blessing.
In the meantime, she'll be training Bristlepaw, and keeping a close eye on her as Starclan's angels close in to choose another "special" young cat...
#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats rewrite#wcr#asks#hollyleaf#fallen leaves#lionblaze#jayfeather#squirrelflight#ashfur#leafpool#wc midnight#wc rock#dovewing#ivypool
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I ADORE your design for Charlie. It’s so adorable!!!!!!
I’m so glad y’all loved her design!!
#ask reply#genuinely I was pretty proud of Charlie’s look#so the fact so many folks liked her made me so happy#I really wanted her to stand out even against other ghost kids#so she got this monochromatic look to her#like she’s been a ghost so long she’s lost her colours#along with that she resembles the puppet more#almost like they fused into one by this point#I really tried to make her both ghostly and eerie#but also cute and friendly#so I think I found that perfect balance#I’m glad one of yall took note of her oversized sleeves#I thought it was a cute design and kept that ghost vibe to her#I gotta draw her again soon!!#we all love Charlie Emily here 🖤🤍
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i'll be dead before the day is done
Ao3
“Danny, aren’t you the literal Ghost King slash Prince slash whatever? Can’t you just make her go away?”
“If I could, I already would’ve,” Danny hissed back. “This isn’t fun for me to see either.”
Sam growled, as the Banshee’s weeping continued in the back of the classroom. Dash and Kwan in the back looked like they were about to pass out or deck her in the face. No one really blames them.
The Banshee coming to Amity Park was a new development for everyone. At first, she appeared as any other regular oddity that occurs in the ghostly town. A woman singing down the streets with her long dark hair covering her face in an old green dress wouldn’t arouse much suspicion in the town. That is, until she made it to the elderly care home.
Once there, the details get scrambled for everyone who heard of the incident later. Some recollect her approaching an old woman in a corner of the recreational area, another claims that they saw her approaching one of the young receptionists. Truthfully, no one knows who she was here for. And it really didn’t matter once she started screaming.
It was a terrifying yell that resulted in all nearby windows shattering, and several people fainted from the shock and pain to their ears.
In the end, two people died, both elderly. Whether it was through the shock of the woman’s scream or through natural causes, it’s hard to say.
Since then, she’s been seen around. Not often, and not for every death. Oddly enough, when investigations on the death were concluded, it resulted that she doesn’t seem to be the cause of the deaths. It’s akin to an eerie canary in mines; a warning rather than a cause. The police are in the process of figuring out her pattern and tracking her behaviors, but it’s still quite perplexing.
Phantom once tried to talk to her, but she completely ignored him, which is an odd approach for a spirit. Danny knows his role as future king in the Ghost Zone makes his presence noticeable to say the least and impossible to ignore to most ghosts. She never even glanced in his direction. He became concerned with it a week after her arrival and decided to do his own investigation on her.
He found his answer with the Ghost Writer.
“Ahh, yes The Banshee,” Ghost Writer says to himself while moving some of his manuscripts into some infinite filing cabinet that Danny avoids looking at to prevent a headache. Too many dimensions in a tiny space is not something his human brain is capable of processing well.
Ghost Writer continues, “She’s untamable. Think of her as a grim reaper of sorts. No one’s really been able to track down what her logic is to be quite honest. No one wants to be exposed to her wailing long enough to figure out,” he shrugged.
“So… I shouldn’t worry about her being in my town?”
“Wait, what?” Ghost Writer fumbles with his manuscripts and turns his entire focus onto Danny. “She’s in your haunt?”
Hesitantly, the boy nods.
“Well, I’ll be damned…I thought you just wanted to talk on an educational level, kid. This is more serious and bigger than I expected it to be.”
Danny scoffs a little at that, “Bigger than fighting Pariah Dark? I’m not sure I can go bigger than that. I mean, the town’s been sent to the Ghost Zone, how much worse than that could it be?”
“I’m just saying, if she’s in some place, that usually means a big death is bound to come. You might want to brace yourself.”
After that discussion, Danny stayed a bit to help with Ghost Writer’s endless organizing before heading home to think.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t given much time to think because the following day, Danny arrived at school to see the Banshee crying in his homeroom.
At this point, all Danny knows is that this Banshee has been weeping in his classroom this morning, and he’s been a nervous wreck all day. If Ghost Writer says that it’s going to be a big death, then it has to be his class that’s in danger. Danny’s not the only one struggling. The entire class has been silent, trying desperately to ignore her crying in the corner and focusing on their work. It hasn’t been very effective.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Their teacher ignores it, when suddenly the door blasts open and in enters two men in white uniforms and government issued ectoweapons.
Danny’s heart freezes. The Banshee’s weeping is becoming louder.
“Daniel James Fenton, you are to come with us immediately to be decontaminated. We have collected months’ worth of evidence, indicating that you are in danger of ectocontamination, and will be taken into custody by order of the United States Government.”
“What?! No!”
“Son, this is not a request. Our scanners are going off the charts at the amount of ectoplasm in your body. You are a danger not only to yourself but your peers.”
There’s more jargon being said but Danny can’t hear anything. Blood is thundering in his ears. His breathing is shaky, his hands have clenched, ready to fight something.
Danny can’t go, they’ll find out everything about him, they’ll try to cut him open, they’ll kill him.
“I said…no.” Danny’s eyes begin to glow green and the temperature in the room suddenly drops.
The Banshee’s crying becomes more hysterical.
“This isn’t ectocontamination, this is body possession! Set your blaster to stun!” yells one of the agents.
A noise goes off and Danny’s body lurches back, and his vision blacks out for a moment. However once it comes back, he turns towards the agents. They’re pale, and their weapons have fallen on the ground. He then looks towards his classmates who look at him in horror.
Danny looks down where their eyes are pointing, and he sees a massive hole where his core used to be.
Oh.
Danny feels his vision dim, and his body collapses, unable to move.
The last thing he senses as he falls into oblivion are the Banshee’s screams.
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Below the Greenhouse
For Phic Phight 2021. Prompt by @ave-aria: Maddie discovers the depths of Vlad's obsessions when she stumbles upon his secret lab. Despite the shock, part of her almost isn't surprised by the stolen Fenton Tech, the ripoff ghost portal, or the eerie Holo-Maddie—but the clone she finds floating in the pod at the back of the room? That's another matter entirely.
Word Count: 7,951
Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net
Note:
Me: *sees a prompt with the word clone*
Me: Oh no.
We all know why this happened.
Maddie knew Vlad Masters was a creep. She did. And she’d known this for a while, even when she, Jack, and Vlad were in college. Before his accident, she had known he'd been preparing to profess his “love” and ask her out, even though he’d known full-well she and Jack were dating. And while, that might have been forgivable back then, when all of them were young and naive and Vlad didn’t hold such bitterness towards her husband, it wasn't now.
Now, Maddie knew Vlad was hopelessly bitter. After his accident, he’d refused to talk to them. He’d shut them out of his room when they visited the hospital and after he’d been released, he’d refused their phone calls and ignored their letters. Eventually, she and Jack gave up and they moved on with their lives.
That was, until Vlad chose to reconnect. And unfortunately, Vlad was worse than ever. More smug. More arrogant. More creepy. He ignored the fact that Maddie was happily married with children and he still insisted that she should leave the love of her life for him.
Maddie really only tolerated him for Jack’s sake. Her husband still enthusiastically loved the man who’d been his best friend in college and she couldn’t bear to crush his spirit, though the woman was increasingly doubting her choice to stay silent now.
And now, Maddie realized that Vlad was much more despicable than she thought.
It started with a series of strange phone calls. The voice was robotic, yet strangely familiar sounding. It reminded her of her mother or maybe her sister? Either way, the sound somehow tugged at her heartstrings just as much as it made her shiver anxiously.
“Please save him.” The woman’s voice asked, an oddly flat plea.
“Tell me who you are.” Maddie demanded, not for the first time.
The speaker ignored the question, continuing. “I cannot get Number 6 out myself. Please save him.”
“You keep saying that, every time you call this number.” The woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was the fifth time she had gotten a call like this. All from an almost emotionless, staticky voice. All begging her to save someone or something called Number 6. Something she couldn’t seem to get anymore information about. “But who is number six?” Maddie asked, trying, probably futilely to learn more.
The answer surprised her. “Number 6 is just a boy. He should be free. He does not belong in a laboratory.”
Maddie frowned, brows furrowed in confusion “A laboratory?”
“That is correct.” The robotic voice answered.
“I’m sorry, are you talking about an actual child? What is a child doing in a laboratory?” The woman wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Number 6 is physically younger than the age of majority and therefore meets the definition of a child.”
“Okay?” Maddie furrowed her brow and repeated herself more severely. “Why are you keeping a child in your laboratory?”
There was a pause. “I am not permitted to share that information.”
That made the woman’s stomach flop. “And why not?”
“My dearest has forbidden me from discussing the details of his experiments with outsiders.”
Maddie frowned again. “Then why are you talking to me?”
“You are a loophole.” The speaker said without hesitation.
That gave the ghost hunter pause. She opened her mouth to ask more when there was a mechanical whirl across the line.
The fast, choppy words cut through. “Dearest will be leaving on a trip tonight and be away for the next three days.”
“Wait, what are you-” Maddie started.
“The address is 600 North Maple Drive. Enter through the trapdoor in the greenhouse. I will be waiting.”
Across the line, a male voice called from far away. “Pull up the data from the last test, dear. And prepare the subject for sample collection.”
Maddie shivered; there was something familiar-
“Please hurry. Save him.” The robotic female voice whispered before the line cut off.
Maddie sighed, dropping the phone. She put her head in her hands. She didn’t know what to make of that. At first, she had thought these mysterious calls were pranks. Maybe even a ghost trying to trick her. Except…. That didn’t feel right. It had been a week and no ghost had acted against her or her family. No ghost would wait this long to act and no human prankster would continue this charade for this long either.
So who had been calling her and what do they really want? Could the speaker really be asking for her help? The idea made dread pool in her stomach, especially now. Now that she had more information. Now she had a location. And that was Vlad’s address. And that other voice...it had sounded like… Vlad, as if the speaker was in fact in Vlad’s mansion. Her stomach flopped. He’d been talking about data from a test and preparing a subject for sample collection. That in and of itself wasn’t necessarily that alarming. Vlad had a background in science. He could be conducting research, just like she and Jack did out of their own basement. Except…
Number 6 is just a boy. He should be free. He does not belong in a laboratory. The words rang in her head, making her feel sick.
Maddie sat for a long while, staring at the phone. So many questions clashed in her mind and she wanted answers. What was really happening here? And how would she learn the truth?
An idea started forming in her mind. A surely bad, horrible idea. She still had no idea who had been calling her. It probably was a trap. So why did she want to follow the instructions? And the prospect of sneaking onto Vlad Master’s property? She could get in serious trouble. And for what? Vlad would never do anything as immoral as what the speaker hinted at. Except...what if? Doubt grew in her mind. What if?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That was how Maddie found herself pulling up to Vlad’s mansion in Amity Park. The woman sighed, putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition. She was really doing this, wasn’t she? The scientist could hardly believe her own actions. But it was the middle of the night and she was alone, in the small forest behind the mansion.
Silently, Maddie got out of the car and started sneaking across the yard. She hadn’t told Jack where she was going. Maybe that was a mistake but the woman somehow knew he’d try to talk her out of this. And he would have a point. Yet the woman was still driven forward despite her better judgement.
Arriving in front of the greenhouse, the ghost hunter stopped. She looked side to side, checking to see if anyone was watching. The yard was quiet and bare, only the sound of night insects cutting through the air. Maddie looked back into the building. To the left of the door was a blinking red light but other than that, inside was dark. Tentatively, Maddie jiggled the greenhouse’s door handle. It didn’t budge at first but then there was a buzz and a click. The door unlocked and the woman frowned, watching the blinking light turn from red to white. Was that a security system? And...had the door just unlocked for her?
Maddie bit her lip. She considered turning back but...she wanted answers. Instead, she pulled her ectostaff out of her belt. A blow to the head from it would be just as effective on a human attacker as it would be on a ghost.
The woman opened the door, quickly stepping though. She closed it and cautiously crossed the room. From what she could tell in the dark, this was a normal greenhouse. She breathed deeply, taking in the wet earthy smell of dirt, the soft perfume of flowers, and… She sniffed. That scent, old batteries, ozone, and citrus. That was familiar. Was that ectoplasm?
Maddie turned, eyes searching for the tell-tell glow of a ghost. Her gaze fixed on something a few rows over. The huntress continued forward, brow wrinkling at the sight. Unsurprisingly, these were plants but….a faint glow enveloped the snow white leaves, the orange and black fruits. Tentatively, she reached forward and cupped one of the fruits. Even through her gloves, she could feel the ghostly chill.
Maddie’s frown deepened. She’d never seen anything like this before. Was this some kind of ghostly plant? And in Vlad’s greenhouse of all places? Where did it come from? How did the billionaire procure it? And why hadn’t he said anything to her and Jack?
With that thought, the ghost hunters’ stomach flopped with nerves. There was actually something here, something out of the ordinary. Her mind turned back to those phone calls, the reason she was here in the first place. The speaker had said something about a trapdoor.
With that, Maddie pulled a flashlight out of her belt and flicked it on. She looked down, searching, and her eyes widened. Oh….well then. There, not three feet in front of her, was the door. The woman approached. Crouching down, she put down her staff and grasped the flashlight between her teeth. With both hands, she pulled the door up, revealing a short ladder leading to a narrow passageway.
The ghost hunter furrowed her brow, hesitating for a moment. She braced herself, forcing her shoulders to relax to dislodge some of the anxiety. Maddie stood up straight. She grabbed her staff and started lowering herself down the ladder. Once she was at the bottom, the woman turned and pointed the flashlight down the passageway. There, maybe ten feet in front of her was a metal blast door.
Dread rose in Maddie at the sight but she tried to push it down. This was probably an old cellar, or maybe even a bomb shelter. Rich people tended to have those, didn’t they? It could be…..
The woman stepped forward. Tentatively, she placed a hand on the opening mechanism. It looked like a wheel that she’d need both hands to open. She moved to return her staff to her belt but before she could, a mechanical whirl sounded. The wheel started turning. Paling Maddie rapidly stepped back. Her heart pounded in fear of being caught.
Then the door swung open with a groan. The ghost hunter registered bright light pouring through the opening. She blinked for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the change. Then she registered the translucent figure floating across the doorway.
Maddie scowled, acting on instinct. “Take that ghost.” She swung her staff but the blow never connected, instead sailing through the blue clad figure without resistance.
“I am not a ghost.” A familiar, robotic voice responded.
It was then that Maddie finally registered what she was seeing. She gasped in shock. It was herself, except floating, translucent, and...glitching around the edges? “What are you?” She breathed.
“I am the MADDIE program, an artificial intelligence meant to emulate Dr. Madeline Fenton.”
The ghost hunter stared for a long moment in confusion. She hadn’t expected a response and now her mind couldn’t catch up, barely processing what she was seeing.
The hologram floated backward, motioning into the door. “Come inside.”
Maddie blinked, registering the words. Her eyes flitted from her strange double to the interior of the room. Concrete floor, metallic walls, sturdy work tables, and….a soft green light. It looked familiar, very much like the Fentonworks lab. The woman’s heart skipped a beat. She’d already come this far….
The huntress took a few steps forward and crossed the threshold, all the while keeping her eyes on the hologram. The other figure was unmoving and silent, not even blinking. After another long moment staring, Maddie warily looked around. As she’d glimpsed, there were shiny metal work tables and shelves. A station with a microscope, centrifuge, and table top incubator. She frowned, eyes falling on glowing vials of ectoplasm.
This was a lab, obviously. A ghost research lab, based on the ectoplasm. But below Vlad’s greenhouse? Her eyes flickered to another table, this one holding familiar looking devices. Ectoguns, slim and silvery with a design Maddie knew intimately, despite the unfamiliar logo and red accents.
The woman walked forward, tentatively hefting the gun. “This looks like our model 35.” She stated seriously.
Maddie then turned, facing the source of the soft green light. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the swirling green. “That’s a portal. A ghost portal.” She muttered.
The scientist took in the design of the frame, of the ecto-filtrater and the control panel. That was her and Jack’s design as well. Her mind swam, information bouncing around senselessly as she tried to make sense of all this. This was a lab. A ghost research lab. A hidden, secret research lab in Vlad Master’s backyard, below his greenhouse. Vlad’s secret lab. But...why?
She bit her lip, her eyes falling on the Fenton Works designed weapons and the portal. Their stolen designs. Maddie could barely believe it, yet she wasn’t as surprised as she should be. Vlad still having an interest in ghosts? The creepy billionaire stealing their blueprints? Why did that seem all too plausible?
“Dr. Fenton?” A staticy voice asked behind her.
Maddie turned, frown deepening as she took in the hologram again. Her mouth felt dry. “He….Vlad...made a hologram that looks and sounds like me.” She felt sickened at the thought, at the evidence in front of her.
“Yes. I was modeled after Dr. Madeline Fenton.” The hologram replied.
The ghost hunter put a hand on her head, feeling a headache grow. It made sense, in a sick kind of way. Vlad had a fascination with her. He was not exactly subtle in his ‘affections.’ Of course he would create this creepy copy. “Why?” She groaned, in rising anger.
“I was created to serve as a digital assistance and security system.”
Maddie looked up, blinking in confusion. She hadn’t been expecting an answer. The woman then frowned, realizing something. A security system? Did that mean… “You unlocked the greenhouse door for me...and turned off the security system.”
“That is correct.” The hologram replied.
The ghost hunter wrinkled her brow. “Why?”
Somehow, almost imperceptibly, the figure’s expression softened. “You came to take Number 6 away from here.”
That gave Maddie pause, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the AI with new eyes. “You were the one calling me.”
It finally hit her. The voice on the phone, the monotone one that reminded her of her mother and sister. It was this AI, this AI which sounded very much like Maddie herself. Of course she hadn’t recognized that. Most people don’t know what they really sound like outside of their own head and Maddie herself was no exception.
“Yes, I did.” The AI confirmed. “Please save him.”
“Him?” Maddie bit her lip, feeling that familiar dread again. “Number 6? Who is this person?”
The hologram floated toward the other side of the room, towards a tall cylindrical metal tube that Maddie hadn’t noticed yet. “Come.” She motioned the ghost hunter to approach.
The huntress did so, fixing a studious gaze on the tube.
“Viewing panel opening.” The AI announced as the whirl of gears sounded throughout the room.
In front of the cylinder, metal paneling slid apart. Slowly a gap opened, making the inside of the pod visible. Maddie first registered neon green ectoplasm swirling in some kind of solution. Then her jaw dropped. There, suspended in the chamber was a lithe figure. It looked male, the form of a young teenager. For a moment, the ghost hunter registered white hair and a black and white garment. Phantom? Had Vlad managed to capture Phantom? No...that….
Her brow furrowed, stepping closer. She examined the glowing body. The figure’s appearance was shifting. Its skin was a mosaic of ghostly blue and a pale, more human color in ever changing, shifting patches. The black and white garment also shifted, seeming to grow and spread over the body before retreating, leaving bare skin. On the head was a mop of black and white hair, the patches rapidly changing color and appearing to move across the skull.
Maddie frowned. There was a resemblance to Phantom. (How? How in the world?) But this wasn’t the same being. “This is a ghost.” Her brow wrinkled in confusion, despite her confidence of the fact.
“Yes.” The MADDIE program answered plainly.
The scientist turned. “I am not letting a ghost out of here.”
The hologram frowned. “Number Six is a boy. He deserves to be free.”
Maddie pointed. “But….that is a ghost.”
“Yes.” The AI confirmed again. “But he is also a boy. Observe.” The translucent figure waved a hand over one of the computers. “Display subject’s vials.”
Instantly, readings appeared on the screen, a rhythmic beeping commencing. The ghost hunter studied the words and numbers. “Oxygen saturation, Blood Glucose, Blood pressure, Heart Rate.” Her brow furrowed. “These are vials for a human.”
“Yes. These are Number six’s vials.”
Maddie scrunched her nose in disbelief. “But...this is a ghost.”
But the sound of the heart monitor pounded in her head. She turned, facing the figure in the tube again. The readings could be fake. But why? And why did Vlad have a ghost captured in his lab? And why did it resemble Phantom? Or at least, it seemed to. Not that she’d ever been this close to Phantom before but the white hair, suit, and lithe figure were the same. She took in the shifting appearance. And what was that? An attempt at shapeshifting?
Maddie turned back to the screen, reading again. At the top, it read Clone Six, 100% stability. “Clone?” The woman questioned. “Clone of who? Of Phantom?”
“Yes.” The AI answered. In response, the ghost hunter turned sharply. The hologram continued. “Subject Six has completed the gestation period and is now viable and capable of living outside the artificial womb.”
Maddie blinked rapidly. There was a lot of information there. “Clone? Vlad cloned Phantom and...it’s ready?”
“Yes. He is stable.” The hologram turned. “Please save him. Take him away from dearest.”
“Look.” The scientist pinched the bridge of her nose. “I am not letting this ghost go.”
“He is a boy.” The AI insisted.
“You say that but-”
“And a ghost.” The hologram continued. “He is a living boy and a ghost.”
Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. “Living?”
She turned back to the chamber, something in her resonating at the word. The strands of black hair, the human colored skin, the patches that did not glow. She looked up into the face and something itched in the back of her mind. It looked familiar, not just because the ghost looked like Phantom.
Maddie took another step. She reached forward until she was touching the glass. The heart monitor steadily beeped as the figure in the chamber twitched.
The huntress shook her head, denying. “That’s just...not possible. Someone can’t be a ghost and a human.” What the AI was saying was nonsensical, completely impossible. So why did Maddie not feel certain?
“Initiate wake up sequence.” The AI declared.
Startled, Maddie’s head whipped to the side. “What are you-”
In the chamber, something thumped. The woman’s head turned to see flailing limbs. The figure’s eyes suddenly popped open, one blue and one green panickedly flickering around the room. The rate of the heart monitor increased. The being thrashed, chest spasming. A hand pounded against the glass.
“What did you do?” Maddie demanded of the AI.
There was no answer, just fearful flailing within the tube. The ghostly figure’s gaze shifted down and fell on Maddie. The eyes widened, silently begging. More pounding of hands on the inside of the glass. The beeping increased, pounding into the woman’s head. The ghost boy blinked and the eyes were blue, icy blue. The gaze, the familiar gaze stabbed Maddie in the heart.
The woman panicked, her own heart race. Her eyes ripped away from the boy. What do I do? What do I do? Her mind raced. Her gaze fell on a large button marked, Emergency release. She acted without thinking, slamming her hand down on the button.
There was hiss and a beep from the chamber. In the blink of an eye, the glass wall of the chamber parted. Maddie yelped, jumping back as water and ectoplasm poured out. The liquid soaked her anyway. Then, the boy inside the tub was falling. He tipped forward and the woman reached out to catch him on instinct.
A surprisingly heavy body fell onto the ghost hunter. Her knees threatened to buckle under the sudden impact. Instead she wobbled and wrapped one arm around the lithe body. Shakily, Maddie lowered herself to her knees, taking the ghostly figure with her.
Numbly, hardly believing what she’d just done, the woman huddled on the floor. She tensed at the being reached towards her. A part of her brain screamed that it was unsafe to be so near to a ghost, yet she didn’t move as ungloved hands weakly grabbed onto her jumpsuit and the ghost pressed into her chest, as if it was hugging her.
Maddie looked down at the being, marveling at the sight. Its appearance was still shifting. Black and white hair. Black jumpsuit and bare skin. Patches of ghostly blue and pale human skin. The woman could feel the ectoplasmic energy, the ghostly chill radiating off the being as well but..... Its glow...there was something off. The glow was dimming. It flickered like a light bulb before cutting off.
In front of her came a whine as the ghost buried its head into her shoulder. Soft cold breath caressed her check. Breathe? Maddie’s heart skipped a breath. She could feel the chest rising and falling with fast breaths, pressed against her as it was. And that beeping. Maddie glanced up at the display. The heart monitor was still keeping pace with a rapidly fluttering heart.
The scientists breath lodged in her throat. No this was...ghosts didn’t breath. They didn’t have heart beats. They didn’t…. She looked down at the shaking figure again and her world turned upside down. The black suit was receding, evaporating. It disappeared off the arms and chest, every part of the body she could see, leaving bare skin below. And that skin, it was changing. Pale peach-tinted skin was rapidly replacing the inhuman blue. A warm breath blew over her check, the ghostly chill quickly vanishing. The weight pressed into her increased, the fingers holding onto her becoming warm and solid. And on the head, black overtook white until she was staring down at the full black head of hair.
Maddie’s mind stopped unable to process. This was...she was...in front...of her...this was... She blinked rapidly, as if the sign would change but...the lack of glow, the human skin tone, the warmth, the breathing, the black hair. That..that damn heart monitor. This...this was...no...no way. The ghost hunter shakily, wrapped her arms around the now hyperventilating figure. She winced feeling the warm, solid skin under her gloves. This was impossible but….
This...this was a human. No ghost...no ghost could fake this. No shapeshifting would give a ghost human warmth and a heartbeat. And she could feel it, the rapidly fluttering heart pressed against her own.
The ghost whined again. No. no. The boy. The boy who had just been a ghost but had changed. The boy who’d just been inside that pod. Who was shaking and hyperventilating in front of her. Another whine. A tear fell onto her shoulder.
Maddie’s mind finally caught up. Her arms shifted into a more proper hug, hands reaching up to run through the black hair. “Shhh. Shh. It’s okay.” The woman whispered. “Breath with me. In.” She breathed in deliberately. “And out.” She pushed the air out of her lungs. “In and Out.”
The boy copied, his breaths following hers. In and out. In and out. His breathing slowed as did the beeping of the heart monitor. Slowly, so slowly, his shaking subsided but the boy didn’t let go of her suit.
Maddie stayed still, questions bombarding her now that the boy was calmed. This boy, who was he? Where had he come from? Why...why did Vlad have a teenager in his lab? And why did he have a ghost that could change into a human? Or was this a human who could turn into a ghost? Her mind raced, her own heart rate increasing with overwhelming confusion. How was this possible? What was this kid?
She looked down, an idea sparking. That ghost disease that all the teenagers supposedly got. The disease that gave them ghost powers. She and Jack had never seen any of the supposedly infected students. They’d dismissed the claims as absurd. Humans could not have ghost powers. Yet Jazz and Danny’s friend, Sam, had both insisted that they’d gotten sick and both had displayed a ghostly ability. And if...if that was true….. She paled, the overheard words from the last phone call hitting her. Tests, sample collection, subject, experiment. If Vlad was experimenting with that disease, experimenting with ectoplasm on...on….
“Where...where am I?” A quiet male voice asked, directly in front of her. Maddie stiffened at the words, roughly pulled out of her thoughts. “What’s happening?”
The woman’s heart stopped. That voice. That voice. Oh god. Suddenly shaking, she unwrapped her arms from the boy. Gently, so gently, she grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands off of her. The boy seemed to shrink in on himself at that, shoulders falling.
He sniffled but Maddie shushed it. “Look...look up at me.” She quietly asked. Slowly, the teenager obeyed and again, the mother felt like her world was turned on its head. Familiar, icy blue eyes met hers. The curve of that nose, the round chin, the slightly chubby cheeks. Oh god, she knew...she knew this face intimately. A trembling hand reached out to touch, cupping the boy’s cheek. “Danny?” Maddie asked, before she could really think.
The blue eyes widened, looking at her with the most pure and innocent hope she’d even seen. “Danny? Is that...is that my name?”
The woman’s expression fell, her mind catching up to the question, to what she was seeing. No, this couldn't be Danny. She had just seen him earlier that night. And on the face in front of her….The freckles….the freckles were wrong, laid out in a different pattern. And the scar above his lips, where was it? The mother glanced down, at his collar bone. The birthmark wasn’t there. And...her heart skipped a beat. No, he was too young, maybe two years younger than her son’s current age of 16.
The woman removed her hand. “No. I’m sorry. You’re not….you look like him, like Danny. So I thought….But you’re not...you’re not him.”
The boy’s shoulders fell and his eyes fixed down. The suddenly heartbroken, lonely look broke Maddie’s heart. “Oh. Then...who am I?”
The ghost hunter frowned at the question, her mind trying to form an answer. Who was this boy who looked like her Danny? Wait…. The words on his vitals display flashed in her mind. Clone number 6. Clone. “You’re a clone.” She blinked, mouth falling open. “You’re a clone of my son.”
The boy looked up, raising a brow. “What’s a clone?”
Maddie flushed at the question. It was so innocent. And his eyes, staring up at her like she had the answer to every question in the universe. “That’s...that’s complicated.” She glanced down, cheeks reddening in a sudden realization. “Let’s umm...let’s get you some clothes first.” The mother blushed for a moment. He’d been naked this whole time, while they’d been hugging and she had been comforting him.
“Clothes?” The boy tilted his head and the innocent confusion, the lack of embarrassment, just about killed Maddie. This looked like a teenager but obviously he wasn’t actually one.
The mother pushed the thought away, head surveying the room for something to cover the child with. She gaze fixed on something white hanging on one of the walls. Lab coats. Maddie started pushing herself to her feet.
The boy whimpered, grabbing her hand. “Don’t leave me.”
Maddie’s expression softened. “I’m not. I’m just going to get you something to wear.”
Shakily, she stood and walked across the lab. All the while, the woman could feel the eyes on the back of her head. But she ignored it, focusing on grabbing a coat. She pulled the white garment off the peg and quickly returned. Maddie then knelt down and held out the coat. The boy looked at it with no recognition as if he had no idea what to do with it. He probably didn’t.
“I can put it on you then. Hold out your arms.” Maddie instructed.
The boy, the clone, (this was a clone, a clone of her son. Her son. How? Why? What?). The clone did as she said and the woman dressed him as if he was a little child. (He probably was). The woman tried to smile comfortingly as she fastened the buttons. “There you go. All covered up.”
The boy looked at the sleeves curiously. They hung past his hands as the garment swallowed him. He waved his arms, watching the ends flap. The child laughed at the sight.
Maddie’s heart clenched at the child-like display. But then she turned her attention to the AI that had been silently watching the entire time. Standing, she scowled. “Is he a clone of my son?”
“Yes.” The MADDIE program replied. “Subject Number 6 is a clone of Daniel James Fenton.”
Maddie looked down again. Somehow, despite how impossible this was, that made perfect sense. The appearance was nearly identical, to perfect for strangers. And….she swallowed. Vlad had a sick fascination with her children, with Danny in particular. She knew the man fancied himself something of a godfather, with his pet names, presents, and advice. And Danny despised it, much more than any teenage boy should even if said godfather had a tendency to flirt with his mother.
The woman paled, all sorts of horrible idea coming into her head. What Vlad must want from Danny, what he must really want from her son. And to do the scientifically impossible? She shivered. Tests, experiments. She remembered the hybrid ghostly appearance, the ectoenergy flowing off of him. From some the ghostly disease? But… “Wait...you said that he was clone of Phantom earlier?”
The hologram’s response was cut off by a scream from the floor. Maddie’s eyes flicked down panickedly as the clone looked up at her. “My...my arm...it’s gone.”
The woman’s eyes just about popped out of her skull. His left sleeve with the hand and arm inside of it were gone. Maddie knelt down, reaching towards where the limb should be. Her hand hit something solid and chilly. She rapidly blinked. “It’s invisible. Your arm is invisible.” Panic rose in her. Ghostly abilities. There were ghostly abilities. He had ghost powers.
“Invisible?!” The boy shrieked.
Maddie’s heart clenched. That sounded just like Danny, her son when he was scared. The boy’s mouth was open with panic, his breath increasing. And all the woman could see was her son. Her son’s face, screwed up with panic and fear. It made her soul ache. She gently wrapped her hand around his invisible one. “It’s still there but you need to calm down. Breath with me. Like before. Okay. In and out.”
The boy copied her action once and his hand returned to visibility. He threw himself forward into her arms. Maddie returned the hug without hesitation. Then a breath later, cold swept over her. The body in her arms disappeared, turning into cold mist. Both the woman and the boy screamed as he turned intangible and fell through her.
Maddie rapidly stood, stepping back. What was happening?! On the floor, the boy returned to solidity, the slightly translucent appearance disappearing. He rolled onto his back, panting. The beeping of the monitor increased with his breathing as his face scrunched up fearfully.
Then a heartbeat later, just when Maddie thought she was done with surprises for tonight, something else stole the breath from her lungs. A white ring of light formed around the boy’s waist. It spread up and down his body and everything the light touched changed. The scientist blinked away the spots in her vision. And there, writhing on the floor with a panicked expression, was Phantom. Or...he looked like Phantom. White hair, black and white jumpsuit, panic filled green eyes.
It suddenly all hit Maddie like a tractor-trailer. He was a clone of Danny.. .and he was a clone of Phantom. Of Phantom. Danny...it clicked into place. Oh god, Danny’s accident with the portal. Him setting off all their equipment. His badly hidden injuries. Falling grades, skipping class, not sleeping. Oh god. Danny was Phantom. Danny Fenton was Danny Phantom. That...that was a pun, damnit. Of course her son would name himself after a pun. And… her eyes fixed on the boy on the floor. His face even stayed the same! No wonder Phantom avoided getting close to them!
In front of her, the clone was hyperventilating again. “What’s happening to me?!” He cried, tears welling in his eyes. His legs were fused into a ghostly tail which lashed in front of him.
The mother’s brain kicked into gear, her motherly instincts taking over again. She knelt down. “Sweetie. Sweetie. Calm down. I’m here.”
She grabbed his arm, intending to pull him into a sitting position but he was so light, as light as a balloon. With the slightest tug, he was pulled into the air, floated. Maddie pulled the ghost boy into her arms. She cupped the back of his head.
“What’s...what’s happening to me?” He cried again.
“I don’t know.” Maddie answered honestly. She had only the barest idea of what all was going on. But still... “I’ll figure it out. I’ll help you. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
The boy wiggled in her hold, crying into her shoulders. “I...I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Who...who am I? Who are you? Where are we?”
Maddie didn’t know. Or rather she didn't know how to answer those questions without making him more scared. She desperately wished she did know. She’d have to have a long conversation with Danny about him being Phantom and about what is actually going on between him and Vlad but for now...she hugged the boy tighter.
A long minute later, light passed over the clone again. He became heavy and warm in Maddie’s arms. His knees wobbled for a moment before steadying as Maddie held him up. “There, you’re doing it. You can stand.” His posture strengthened and the shaking stopped. Finally, the mother asked. “Do you think you can stand on your own?”
“I...I think so?” The boy said, uncertainly.
“Alright. I’m going to step away slowly. I’ll catch you if you start to fall.” Maddie reassured.
The child nodded as the woman backed away. He wobbled, tipping forward but the ghost hunter gently grabbed him. They stood, hands on each other's forearm for a long pause, until the boy steadied himself. He looked down at his feet, lifting one before putting it down and then doing the same with the opposite. Finally, he let go of Maddie’s arms. After hesitating, the mother did the same.
The boy studied her compassionate face, brow furrowed with deep thought. “Who are you...to me?”
Maddie considered, studying his face in kind. Her son’s face. A face so like her Danny’s. He was a clone, a clone of her son. Meaning...he was her own flesh and blood. Her lips pursed in thought. More importantly...he was a child. A confused, scared child who needed her help. And before she was a ghost hunter and scientist, Maddie was and would always be a mother.
“I’m your mother.” She said without hesitation, smiling. “Your mom.”
“Mom?” The boy asked, testing out the word.
Maddie nodded, reaching forward and gently whipping one of his tears away with her thumb. “I’m your mom.”
The child smiled, his eyes lighting up like that was the most wonderful thing he had ever heard. It very well could be. “Mom.” The word rang out with so many emotions, with some much love that Maddie’s heart swelled. The boy stepped forward hugging her again.
The mother ran her finger through his hair. “Yes baby. I’m here to take you home."
“You will take him away from here, then?” A staticy voice asked, beside the pair.
Maddie turned, pulling away to look at the AI. Beside her, the clone tilted his head as he looked between the two but didn’t ask.
The scientist nodded. “Yes. I think I understand why you called me now.” Of course she did. This was an AI made to copy her, something of a digital clone. If Maddie was in her place, she would not so easily agree to whatever Vlad had planned. She would not leave a child here to be experimented on. And as the MADDIE programs 'original’, for lack of a better word, she wasn’t exactly an outsider and therefore a loophole.
The hologram nodded. “I will disable the microchip then.” A light on the monitor blinked out and the beeping of the heart monitor stopped. The AI then turned to the computer. She pointed to a flash drive plugged into one of the ports. “That contains all research data. Take it with you.”
Maddie obeyed, taking the drive. The AI winked. “Excellent. Delete all research data. Command alpha-06-gamma-58-epsilon.”
There was a loud dial tone and the computer fritzed, the monitor wavering until a blue screen reading ‘System Deletion’ in large print was displayed.
Maddie raised a brow, impressed at the AI.
Then the clone asked. “What about you? Are you coming with us?”
The program shook her head. “No dear. I am not like you. My purpose is served.” The AI turned to deliberately look at Maddie. “Number 6 has been saved.”
The boy frowned at the statement as did the mother, considering the statement and the depth of it. She didn’t know what to make of it except...it almost felt like one mother was handing off her son to another.
“Go on.” The MADDIE program encouraged. "You may go out the way you came and I will lock the doors behind you." She frowned. "I will distract dearest for as long as I can."
Maddie wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I suppose you can't just call him Vlad?"
"No." The AI almost sounded annoyed. "My programming is most inconvenient."
The ghost hunter nodded in understanding. Then she turned to face the clone. "Come on then sweetie." She wrapped one arm around the boy and started leading him towards the door. Before passing through, the women turned back to face the hologram. "Thank you."
The corner of MADDIE program's lip turned up as she offered an accepting nod. The pair then turned back towards the still open door. The clone wobbled slightly, progressing slowly as he gained more confidence. Maddie carefully stepped across the threshold with the boy still at her side. Once they were in the tunnel, a gap sounded from beside her.
"What is it?" The mother glanced to the side, eyes wide with concern.
"The ground's cold." The boy muttered.
"Oh." Maddie looked down. "You're not wearing any shoes." She'd have to get him some once they got home and some proper clothes. "Just step carefully, okay? Actually…." With her free hand, she pulled out her flashlight and shone it on the bare ground in front of them. "There."
The pair advanced carefully, Maddie helping the boy to clumsily climb up the ladder. They crossed the greenhouse and the mother pulled the boy along as he eagerly studied their surroundings.
"It smells nice in here." The clone commented, sniffing the air.
"It does." Maddie agreed.
Arriving at the door, she finally opened it and the two found themselves in the open air. The boy suddenly stopped, looking down.
He hummed in the back of his throat, pleased. "I like the grass under my feet." Maddie looked down to find the kid wiggling his toes. Then there was an awed whisper. "Wow. Are those the stars?"
The mother looked up again to find him staring up at the sky in wonder. Maddie smiled. "Yes, they are. Aren't they beautiful?"
"Yeah." He breathed.
Maddie let him look up in awe, as she herself marveled. She couldn't help but be reminded of Danny's love of the stars. But even with the resemblance, he was a different person from her Danny, wasn't he? She could already see little difference. This child-like wonder was something she hadn’t seen in her son very often now. But still she wondered. This clone seemed to know the words for things. He could speak clearly and had good coordination all things considered. How was that even remotely possible? And yet he still had the air of someone who had never seen the world before, like every was new. Because it likely was.
With that, Maddie cut off her musing. "Come on sweetie. We need to keep going."
The mother hated cutting off his exploration, especially as his expression fell. But the boy nodded anyway, taking a step forward. The pair continued, cutting across the yard, into the trees, and to the car. Maddie clicked the fob to unlock the vehicle. She guided the boy to the car, opened the passenger's side door, and helped him sit. The mother then walked around and opened the driver's side door and sat down herself.
Maddie turned to find the clone looking at his seat belt curiously. She reached over. "Here let me help you." She buckled him in.
The boy hummed, fidgeting in his seat while Maddie buckled herself in. She put the key in the ignition and started the engine. Instantly, the radio started, a song from their local eighties station broadcasting through. The clone flinched at the sudden sound before relaxing.
He turned, looking at the woman with wide eyes. "What's that?"
Maddie smiled. "It's music."
"Right. Music." The boy nodded. He tilted his head, listening to the song. After a moment, his head bobbed in time. "I think I like music." He hummed along, wiggling in his seat.
It made Maddie want to laugh so she did. She chuckled as she put the car into drive and pulled away. She turned into the road and started driving back towards Fentonworks. The song ended just as they pulled up at a red light.
The clone turned to face her. "Where are we going?"
She looked at him out the corner of her eye. "We're going home, like I said earlier."
He nodded. "Right yeah. I remember that." He hummed. "What will we do when we get there?"
Maddie paused, considering the question. "Well...we’ll talk to your dad and your….Danny and Jazz….and we’ll figure all of this out.”
She’d hesitated for a moment, thinking to refer to Danny and Jazz as his brother and sister. But Maddie had no idea how they’d take this. Hopefully well. Those two were good kids but living with a clone of yourself….Maddie could hardly imagine. At least Jack would be eager and welcoming. She knew her husband well enough to be sure….Oh boy, she really should have told him something about all of this before she’d left.
"All of this….you mean the….clone thing and…" He bit his lip. "The flashing light and the floating and disappearing and falling through things?"
"Ghost powers." Maddie said, brow furrowing. "You have ghost powers. As far as I can tell, you're some kind of ghost human hybrid? Not that I knew that was possible until less than an hour ago…." She frowned. "Nor did I know you existed."
The boy frowned, looking worried. His lips pursed. "So...you don't know what my name is then, do you?”
Maddie's heart fell. In front of them, the light turned green. The woman turned back, removing her foot off the gas. The car pulled away before the mother pulled into a parking lot.
She took a deep breath, the impossibleness of the situation hitting her. She was sitting in her car with a clone of her son. A clone that she’d found in the secret laboratory below Vlad Master’s greenhouse. A human-ghost hybrid clone of her son who was also a hybrid. She had another son now. A son who she now had to tell that she didn't know his name, because he likely didn't have one yet.
Maddie put a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.” She gently apologized. “You’re right. I don’t know. And sadly….” She took a deep breath. “And I know this will be hard to hear but...all I know is that hologram called you Number 6 and...that’s not exactly a name, is it? ”
His lip quivered, eyes starting to water. “But….that’s….”
The mother took his hands and squeezed it. “That will change. Your father and I can pick out a name for you; that’s what parents normally do for their children. Or….if you have something in mind, we’ll happily call you that.”
The clone looked down, biting his lip in consideration. “I’ll...I’ll think about it.”
Maddie’s face softened. “Alright sweetie.”
He turned his head up, blinking at her. “Sweetie? Can that be my name?”
The question was asked so innocently that Maddie couldn’t help but laugh. “No. That’s a pet name. I call all my kids that.”
“Oh.” He blushed in embarrassment. “Well that’s...at least, that means I’m one of your kids.”
The mother nodded her head. “Yes, of course. You’re my son.” It should have been surprising how much her heart swelled with love at the statement but well….Maddie had made up her mind. This was her son. Not Vlad Masters’ experiment. Not just Danny’s clone. Her son and Vlad was not taking him away from her.
They would have a lot to figure out. A name for this boy. His complete origin as a clone. How to deal with having a third child, one who’d just appeared overnight. They’d have to deal with the implications of her revelation that Danny was Phantom. And Vlad...what he’d done was horrible. He’d stolen blueprints and her son’s DNA. He’d experimented on a human or...humans. She internally frowned; he was clone number 6. Did that mean that there had been five others?
Either way, Vlad was deplorable. There, in the depth of his lab, below something as innocuous and normal as his greenhouse, Maddie had discovered that and the true depth of his obsession with her and her family. And now she knew, Vlad needed to be stopped. He needed to be punished. But what exactly to do with him, considering how taking him down would likely expose Danny’s identity as Phantom? Yes, they had a lot to deal with but….
Maddie leaned forward to kiss her new son’s forehead. “You have a family now. And a home. And everything else we’ll figure out together.”
A soft smile crept across his face. “I like how that sounds.”
“Good.” Maddie smiled. “Now...are you ready to go meet the rest of your family?”
“Yeah.” He squeezed the hand still holding hers. “I’m ready Mom.”
#Danny Phantom#Phic Phight 2021#Phic Phight#team human#Danny clones#Danny Phantom clones#Maddie Fenton#My fic
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hello! i loved ur college au, so can i request that but for zhongli and kaeya pls? thank you!
the boys as your college roommate pt.2
pairings: zhongli & kaeya x gn!reader ft.hu tao (afab reader for kaeya)
content/warnings: fluffyyy, mentions of a seance. mentions of sex for kaeya's but no actual intercourse between the reader & kaeya
a/n: i got carried away with zhongli... ehe *ghost busters theme song*
-> zhongli
moving in with zhongli was an absolute delight. he was so respectful of your space and even helped you study!
you weren't really surprised to find out he was a history major. it's practically almost all he talked about, not that you minded.
today he came home with the biggest smile plastered on his face and pamphlet in hand. "there's a new history exhibit opening up around campus. i heard it's about the town's local history and war from over 800 years ago. uh if you'd like, we can go together?" and who were you to say no?
you knew this wasn't a date or anything, just two friends hanging out! because that's what friends do, right? once you and zhongli arrived, you both decided to go with a tour guide because even zhongli didn't know much about the town's history. "and this exhibit over here ladies and gentlemen tells you about the haunting of whitmore's house, ouuuuu!" the tour guide gave his worst ghostly impression.
you chuckle and turn to zhongli, who didn't seem as amused. "zhongli? you don't really believe in the haunting of whitmore's house, ouuuuu!" you gave your best mimic of the tour guide. he's eyes remains fixated on the small replica of the house. "hmm, i'm not sure. i am confused on why it would be in a history museum."
"well my friend, whitmore was a brave general during the war. he unfortunately got ambushed in his own home. legend has it you can still hear his screaming coming from his bedroom!" the tour guide made another ghostly mimic before leaving. that sent chills up your spine. "eugh, how awful." you crossed your arms. the distaste in your voice was very evident, so zhongli and you both decided to move on to the next exhibit.
later that night while you guys were deciding on what to have for dinner, there was very loud knocking sound at the door. "i'll get it." when you opened the door, you were met with an overly excited hu tao. she was bouncing on her toes with a up to no good grin.
"hu tao? i wasn't expecting you. come on in." you open the door wider and she makes a bee line for the couch. "weeee have plans tonight." she announces plopping down next to zhongli. "we do? i wasn't aware." zhongli raises his eyebrows.
hu tao was a good friend of zhongli's. although you didn't know her too well, you liked her spirit. "ohhh yes we do! we're having a seance at whitmore's house." her smile only grew wider. speaking of spirits. you on the other hand collapsed on the couch. "a seance? at a haunted house? you can count me out." you shiver. zhongli wanted to say he was surprised, but he really wasn't. hu tao was the president of the occult club after all.
"will it just be us?" zhongli's interest was piqued. "mmm no. a few of my club members will be joining us but i wanted to invite the two of you as well! i know you guys went to the museum today so i thought you'd be interested!" the way hu tao's eyes sparkled at this was a bit concerning.
you sigh, nibbling on your bottom lip in deep thought. oh, what the hell. it's not like you believe in this ghosts anyway. you slam your palms on the coffee table and stand up abruptly, making zhongli and hu tao flinch. "let's go catch some ghosts!"
now what the hell were you thinking?! the weather was freezing, and dark clouds painted the night, showing signs of a thunderstorm. you were shaking in your boots standing outside of the haunted house. if you can even call it that. it was more of an abandoned manor. a gate surrounded the property so it was a hassle to get to get in.
zhongli noticed your shaking, so he held your hand. you look up at him and he just shoots you a comforting smile. your body begins to shake less. "alright everyone, are we ready?" hu tao turns around to look at everyone. you all nod and follow hu tao inside. the atmosphere inside wasn't helping your nerves. the wallpaper was tearing from the walls, stains of water damaged, missing floorboards, and- was that a blood stain?
you must've clenched zhongli's hand too tight because he started rubbing his thumb across your intertwined hands to help calm you down. okay, deep breaths y/n. you can do this. besides, it's not like ghosts actually exist, right?
"wowwww look at this place! how about we explore for a bit? we can split up and meet up later here!" hu tao suggested. you were about to protest, but zhongli was already leading you away from the rest of the group. "is this really safe?" you ask him barely loud enough.
"don't worry. i'm here with you. and if you get too uncomfortable, i'm sure hu tao will understand that we had to leave." his words brought you enough comfort to keep your legs walking. you clung to zhongli's side as you explored the eerie hallway with nothing but a dim flashlight. "i wonder which room was his." zhongli mumbled mindlessly. your body tensed up at his statement and you shook your head. "i'm sure hu tao is on the hunt for it." you tried to joke, but the fear building up in the pit of your stomach was just too much.
the gods were definitely against you. the flashlight zhongli was holding had gone out. "oh great. good thing we have our phones." you reached out for your phone in your pocket and hastily turned the flashlight on. "oh, seems like i forgot my phone. let's find hu tao."
for the rest of the night, your hand never left zhongli's. even when you heard a ghoulish scream coming from the upper level
-> kaeya
being roommates with kayea was very, well, exhilarating. he wasn't a terrible roommate but he was totally a fuckboy. you had to set boundaries when you heard unwanted noises coming from him and his friends on the other side of your wall almost every night.
he apologized for his behavior and promised to never let it happen again. until it did.
it was midnight and you were awoken by the very evident sex noises coming from kaeya's room. it had to have been his 3rd person this week. he thought he was being slick by sneaking his links over while you were fast asleep. you were finally going to put a stop to this.
deciding enough was enough, you angrily rip off the blanket on your body and shuffle into your bunny slippers. you march over to kaeya's room and knock very loudly on his door. "kaeya my love, is everything alright. seems like quite a ruckus in there. i'm coming in."
without shame, you open up the door wide to find kaeya and his flavor of the week hiding under his covers. well, time to put your acting skills to use. "oh! kaeya! what's this? how could you! even after i told you about our baby just yesterday?! what am i suppose to do now? i can't deal with this!" you burst out into the fakest tears kaeya has ever seen. kaeya had the most horrific expression on his face. the girl beside him was disgusted. she slapped kaeya, "you told me you were single! your s/o is pregnant! you disgusting man." she grabbed all of her clothes littered on the floor and left the place almost like she was never there.
as soon as she left, you wiped away your fake tears. "what a performance am i right? i'll make a great movie star in the future." kaeya clenched his bedsheets closer to his body and looked at you like he's seen a ghost. "what the hell was that? what did you-" "i told you specifically not to bring anymore of your hookups to our shared dorm. this isn't just your space, kaeya." you crossed your arms and squinted your eyes. he huffed and fell back on his bed. "yeah but did you have to be so dramatic about it? now everyone's gonna think you're pregnant with my baby."
oh. you didn't even think about that. "that's a problem for later. right now i need you to seriously promise me no more hookups. i'm getting tired." kaeya propped himself on his elbows. he knows he was being unfair and totally disrespectful. it was your place too and he shouldn't keep up his antics. "okay. i promise. i swear this time. i'm sorry."
and so he really did keep his promise. in fact, his hookups in general became less and less prominent, until he stopped hooking up with people at all. why? well because he developed feelings for you. he never planned on it, but it kinda just happened.
he realized his feelings when you first brought a date over to your dorm. he didn't like the way you flirted with them and how you laughed at all of their jokes. they should be laughing at my jokes, he thought.
so after that, he began dropping hints that he liked you. of course you never picked up on them. kaeya being a flirt was a normal thing. so it only made sense for you to not pick up what he was putting down.
but kaeya was determined. he was determined to make you his. he just needed a little push.
#zhongli x you#zhongli x reader#zhongli x y/n#zhongli#kaeya x reader#kaeya x you#kaeya x y/n#kaeya#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader
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To light a candle is to cast a shadow
Dannymay Day 9: Candlelight
________________________
TW: Major Character Death
Danny had never been to a funeral before. Never in a million years would he have imagined this one would be his first. He was surrounded by his classmates and teachers and friends. His parents were sniffling quietly off to the while Jazz was a little more open with her grief. He felt so much, like he was a balloon ready to burst that he’d circled back to numbness. All he could do was stare at the gentle flickers of the candles people were holding. And like a candle, Danny was acutely aware of how quickly a life could be snuffed out.
“Danny, pay attention, it’s rude to space out at a place like this,” Tucker whispered in his ear. Danny squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his best friend’s voice.
“Sorry, I,” he whispered back, “this is harder than I thought it’d be.” Sam looked over her shoulder at them. She looked worse than he’d ever her, greasy hair pulled back in a low tail, eyes sallow and not a trace of gothic makeup. It would have smudged with the tears anyway. She was wearing black as always but this time out of grim necessity. If it was hard for him he can only imagine how she was feeling right now.
“Poor Sam,” Tucker huffed. “We should go stand by her, let her know she’s not alone.”
“Yeah just, let’s give it a minute,” Danny said quietly back. “This has been a lot, how are you feeling, Tuck?”
“Oh you know,” Tucker chuckled, moving around to Danny’s other side. “Larger than life.” Danny bit his lip and looked down at the candle held in his shaking hands. He could see ice creeping up the sides, it would go out entirely if he didn’t keep it under control. He’d already let one light go out due to his negligence.
“Not now,” was all Danny could say. He kept his eyes low so he didn’t have to confront his friend’s green skin and glowing red eyes.
“Oh so only the half ghost can make dead jokes?” Tucker said with an audible eyeroll. He floated back around to Danny’s front but he could still see through the ghost to Mr. Lancer giving a weeping statement. “Come on, lighten up. It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.”
“Tuck please,” Danny pleaded, a sad keening sound that sounded pathetic to his ears. He saw Star turn to look at him and offer a sad, sympathetic smile before turning back to the speech. “Please, just, can this wait until after the vigil?”
“You don’t have to be sad, dude, it’s not like I’m really gone,” Tucker chuckled. “It doesn’t even hurt. I mean it did, alot, for a second there but then it was over with. Easy. Just think of it as Team Phantom upgraded one of its members!”
“It’s not the same,” Danny frowned, “it’s not, things aren’t going to be the same.”
“And why not?” Tuck said with an eerie edge to his voice. “Danny is the same as Phantom, why can’t it be the same for me?” He grinned and his teeth had sharp edges. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of me again? Afraid I’ll have better, cooler powers as a full ghost?”
“Tuck, you’re dead,” Danny stressed quietly, almost choking on the words he never wanted to say. “You were so brave and so stupid and tried to hack into the school’s PA system while Technus was inside and it... electrocuted you to death.”
“Haha yeah, we really are bros in everything, we even died the same way.” Tucker laughed, watching as Sam was discreetly wiping at her eyes. “Whatever happened to Techy? Things got kinda fuzzy there for a while.”
“Technus is gone,” Danny deadpanned. “When I found you, when I smelled that mix of ozone and cooked flesh I sort of lost it.” He’ll never get that god awful smell out of his mind. He remembered it from his own accident and smelling it again, paired with his best friend’s corpse and Technus’s idiotic ranting in his head. The next thing he remembered was Sam screaming over Tucker’s body and his hands covered in ectoplasm. Technus’ ectosignature had been entirely obliterated.
“Oh hardcore, shoulda done the scary eyes when you said it. It would’ve had more of an impact.” Tucker turned to him with his beaming red eyes, so close yet slightly off from his normal looks. “Hey that means there’s an opening for a technology ghost around these parts. I gotta think of a name, someway to combine Tech and Tuck. I’ll think of it, I mean I have the rest of eternity.”
“Are you sure you want to stay?” Danny asked seriously, finally looking his dead friend in the eye. He was a new ghost, barely had an ectosignature and wouldn’t for at least another few months. Danny was the only one here who could see the ghost haunting his own candlelight vigil. A boy, a friend, gone far too soon. “You could move on, find your peace. Haunting Amity Park forever hardly sounds like a dream come true, I’ve only done it a year and I’m sick of it.”
“Peace? I’m 15, Danny. Peace was never an option.” Tucker lounged until his was floating on his back. He passed through Mikey and Kwan both of whom shivered at the contact. He playfully batted at Sam’s ponytail and she stiffened, like she was doing everything to hold back tears. Sam might not be able to see him but she knew Tuck almost as well as Danny did, knew what a prankster he was. Or at least they had known him. Now Danny doesn’t know quite who or what he’s looking at.
“I’ll hang around with you guys until my core’s stronger then I can pick up some of the ghost butt kicking slack. Amity will have two awesome ghostly superheroes. Or at least until you get bored or old or whatever. Then it’ll just be me, Techer.” He made a face, “oh god that’s awful, forget that one.”
Danny almost smiled, despite everything because with Tuck in front of him chatting as usual, he’d almost forgotten. For a second, the smell and the charred, contracted limbs and Mr and Mrs. Foley’s wailing when they heard the news almost seemed like a far away nightmare. Then Tuck floated forward and clapped his hand around the flame on Danny’s candle, snuffing it out.
“The wax was about to drip onto your hand, you’re welcome, dude,” Tuck preened with his sharpened teeth and glowing aura. “I already got this hero thing down pat.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Danny said wanly. Mrs. Foley got up now and was talking about what a good, considerate son she had. How she was going to miss him every day. Tucker watched her speak with a polite, distant face like she was talking about some character in a story written long ago. He was here, he remembered but there was a palpable disconnect between the Tuck of old and his ghost. Danny wondered how long it would be before his friend was gone entirely, consumed by amnesia and obsession.
“Ugh Danny,” Tuck huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. “Can you cut it out with the waterworks? I’m right here after all.” But he wasn’t, not really. What was in front of him was an echo. Tuck was here but not all of him came along for the ride. The rest, the part that Danny had cherished and relied on for most of his life, was at the morgue ready to be buried in the morning. Closed casket obviously.
Yeah, his friend was still here but death had changed him, like it had changed Danny. And he was going to see a constant reminder of his friend’s death in his face every day until one of them decided to move on. Moments would pass and feel like normal only for him to realize that something vital had been lost. Like a candle casting a shadow, lacking all the warmth and life of the real thing.
#dannymay2021#major character death#I'm so sorry fam#I wasnt gonna do a prompt today but it came to me in the bath#the first line just grabbed me by the throat#fastest Ive ever dried off and started typing I swear#anyway hiiiiii happy dannymay#tucker foley
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Rest
Note: This is the second part of my Ghost!Petra story that I posted here before! As always, here’s a bit of a preview to the story! You can find the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34638148
Petra would not relent. Ever since his first encounter with the ghostly visage of Petra Ral, Levi continued to see her in his office. He knew that if he left the drawer locked she wouldn’t be able to appear, but for some reason, he kept finding himself incapable of keeping her locked away. Maybe he really was going crazy, or maybe he just missed her too much to not allow her to come out. Even despite the fact that she looked disfigured and broken, he still thought it was better than never seeing her again.
Petra was still angry, though, that hadn’t changed.
He tried to avoid his office as much as he could, but he felt drawn back to it almost every single day. The fact that Petra was there, that he could still see her regardless of the shape she was in, was something that he couldn’t quite pass up. It was a special kind of torture he was subjecting himself to, but he couldn’t stop. He simultaneously wanted to see her and wanted to push her away so that he wouldn’t have to think of his shortcomings.
He’d let her die, that much was obvious. He’d known it before she’d told him as much. If only he’d disobeyed his orders. Even during the expedition, he had a feeling in his gut that told him he should have just gone to them, to her , but he couldn’t bring himself to disobey. He couldn’t bring himself to act on his own for once in his cursed, awful life, and that had cost him the thing that was most dear to him. Again.
Knowing what was causing the eerie and angry feeling in his office had alleviated some of his sleeplessness, though. He still got even less sleep than was normal for him before the 57th expedition, but at least he was getting a few hours now. Hanji and Erwin had both been increasingly worried about him, and he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to go on like that for much longer. He was relieved when Petra seemingly decided to let him sleep every now and then, although she wouldn’t let him forget what she wanted from him.
Kill Erwin Smith .
The angry words she’d spoken to him rang through his mind regularly, even in his dreams. He knew she wouldn’t rest until he fulfilled her desires for her, but he also knew that he couldn’t just kill the Commander because Petra Ral’s ghost wanted him to do it. He already seemed insane enough, there would be no way to make people believe something like that. Especially since it seemed that no one was able to see Petra but him.
Hanji had heard the banging of the drawer the patch was in and saw the door to Levi’s office slam shut the one time they had come to his office, but they had not been able to see Petra’s spirit, Levi had made certain that they couldn’t.
#Rivetra#Rivetra fanfic#Rivetra fics writes#spooky season#spooky#Halloween#Ghost!Petra#Levi just really misses Petra okay#Vengeful Spirits
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Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 4: Lost key
Wendy and Dipper find and old drive-in cinema with a locked cabinet inside the projector room...
"lost key" really has almost no connection to the story, it was just excuse to use an idea I've had for a while ;)
One summer the two decided to put their passion for old cheesy movies (the worst they could find (la la la)) to action and try to refurbish and old drive in cinema. It worked for exactly one night, because the projector was haunted.
(Ao3)
===================
Dipper Pines has seen a lot of strange things around Gravity Falls: ancient buildings, communes of magical creatures, tasty fat-free food, you name it. And yet, on occasions like these, despite his years of expertise, he was still stumped by his findings.
- Why would anyone build a huge empty billboard in the middle of the woods?
He scratched his head, walking around a huge once-white rectangle, propped between trees that now have overgrown it, blocking it from sight. Only because of its unnaturally light colour he and Wendy have managed to spot it during one of their many walks around the forest.
And it was Wendy that very quickly made him realise that the thing he was looking at was not exactly what he thought it to be.
- Dude, it's a screen! - she exclaimed - This must have been a drive-in theatre!
She spread her arms, and only now Dipper realised how oddly flat the meadow they were on was. He then noticed more and more evidence of her being right: rusty, metal poles he thought to be part of some fences, turned out to be holders for old speakers, though with very little electronics left.
And a huge, moss-covered rock was revealed to be a half-dilapidated carcass of a car that served as a home to some birds that flew way when Dipper uncovered it.
But there was one more mystery, and Wendy was on it, carefully looking around.
- If that's the screen, then the projector must be...
She turned around trying to spot it in the thick forest that have overgrown the place.
- There! Look!
Wendy pointed to a building on a nearby hill they previously thought to be just an abandoned shelter. But a rectangular hole in its wall, pointing towards the screen proved her right once more.
- Jackpot! - Dipper shouted - Let's check it out.
The two didn't have to break in - the door have succumbed to the passage of time years ago, giving Wendy and Dipper a mesmerising sight of an old projector room, filled with antiquated technology, frozen in time, as if they were the first people to explore it.
- Dude... do you think it still works? - Wendy suddenly spoke, as she looked through the hole in the wall at the place they've just left.
The answer became obvious when Dipper pulled the large handle on the wall, and with low, buzzing noise, the equipment woke up from its slumber, though Dipper put it back to sleep, knowing well not to test a potential fire-hazard too much.
- That's awesome! Do you know what that means?
- Er, no...
- We could, I don't know, renovate this place! This could be a new local attraction!
Dipper's eyes widened.
- You know, this isn't a bad idea! We would need some movies first, though...
He looked around, until he heard Wendy's playful grunt. The red-head was pointing out to a locked, metal cabinet with "Movies" written on it.
- Jackpot again... er, we just need to find a key.
He pointed to the rather imposing paddlock on the door. Wendy snickered.
- Stay back, man, I've got this.
She grabbed her axe and with a precise move, she hit the rusty piece of metal that practically turned to dust, and with a loud clunking noise, the door moved.
Wendy and Dipper eagerly grabbed each wing and opened it ajar, revealing rows of old circular reels of film, covered in only a thin layer of dust, preserved by time.
Dipper grabbed one of them, and gently blew the dust away, revealing the title.
- "Hare goulash"? - he raised his brow - From 1933... wow, this place is from the forties! Old as heck.
- Maybe it's old, but it's still one of our finest!
With a loud, cluttering noise, Dipper dropped the metal reel to the ground when a third voice joined theirs. Wendy jumped back as well, and readied her weapon, though she was not quite prepared for what she saw.
A ghost with thick, bushy eyebrows and a moustache appeared from between the reels of old movies, wearing a tuxedo, a bowtie and a comically large glasses.
- Woah, lady, be careful with that axe, I've already cut down on my smoking!
He pointed a ghostly cigar at her and, contrary to his own words, took it back into his mouth, much to both Dipper's and Wendy's confusion.
- Who are you?
- Me? I should be asking you, I didn't know the circus was back in town! You are the weirdest travelling salespeople we've had in years!
- Er... we?
Wendy asked the question, just as the answers revealed themselves to them. With more cluttering, two more spectres materialised from the storage closet, one wearing a bowler hat and the other a rather tarnished cylinder, eyeing the two living beings with eerie, wide-eyed stares.
- Woah, nelly, are we back in action? - the second ghost asked - I sure hope they haven't invented color movies, I only have black and white clothes!
The third ghost didn't say anything, but filled the room with melodious tune of his flute, at least until he looked at Wendy, and whistled loudly.
- Hey, watch out! - Dipper stepped forward.
- Watch? - the first ghost chimed back, floating around her - Aren't you the ones to do so? We're the actors here!
- What the-
Dipper yelped when his vision was obscured by his own vest being tossed over his head by the other two ghosts.
- Well, great, now the spectres have spectators! So, what are you kids doing here? Cos' I hate to break it you, you ain't gonna sell us any cookies to us.
The ghost with rather thick, bushy eyebrows sat, or rather levitated over the chair and produced a large cloud of smoke from what would be his lungs.
- We've just found this place. - Dipper explained, fixing his clothes - So, do you guys live here?
A loud, horn noise filled the room when one of the ghost produced one from nowhere and honked it at Dipper.
- Time-out for the nosy one! You don't say "live" to a ghost, you know.
- Okay, okay - Wendy continued - Were you guys locked in this closet?
- No complaints from me - the middle ghost answered - I can't imagine a better company than these two.
He hugged his two ghostly friends, much to their displeasure.
- Imagine that happening for sixty years. And he's the one who thinks he can sing!
- Er, do you... do you guys have names?
- Moustachio, at my service! - the moustache-wearing one bowed, and reached for Wendy's hand, only to grab and kiss his own.
- Chorizo! - the second one lifted his hat, revealing two ghostly mice living underneath it - And this one's Honky, you can guess why.
Another loud sound, this time from a trombone filled the room, when Honky greeted Dipper and played his ghostly instrument.
- Okay, that's-that's neat... I guess. I'm Dipper, and this is Wendy.
Dipper introduced them to the ghosts, still standing a few feet away from them.
- We, uh, we were thinking if we could renovate this place...
- Why? Are these cobwebs out of fashion?
The ghost grabbed both ends of his moustache and spread it apart, revealing several ghost spiders on an impressive grid of cobwebs.
- Ew! Stop it!
Wendy automatically swiped her axe, slicing the ghost in half.
- Hey, if you think I need to get back on a diet, you could have just told me! - Chorizo spoke, tugging his lower part back as if it was his pants.
- No, you don't get it - Dipper continued - Wendy... Wendy just had an idea that we could bring this place back to li-, I mean, make it work again.
- So we could play your movies again! They are all yours, right?
- Hey, this one's bright! - Chorizo said, putting sunglasses onto his nose.
- Hmm...
Moustachio twirled the end of his whiskers, until he grabbed his two ghostly friends.
- Team meeting! And you two, no peeking!
The see-through ghost turned around and he whispered something to the other two. Chorizo chimed in after a while, and sad tune of violin meant Honky gave his vote on the matter.
After just a few seconds, the three turned around and faced Wendy and Dipper.
- After long and heated discussion we came to a *clear* conclusion. - Moustachio spoke - We're old, you're young, so we hate you by definition. Get out of our lawn, it was nice meeting you!
And with that, the ghosts grabbed Wendy and Dipper and unceremoniously tossed them out of the bunker-like building, closing what remained of the door right in front of their nose.
- Oh, you little-
Wendy got up at once and tried kicking the dilapidated door open.
- Is that the pizza? It better be, it's been half a century!
- Open up, you old farts! - Wendy roared
- Uh, Wen-Wendy? - Dipper gently nudged her - Maybe we shouldn't be interrupting them...?
- Are you kidding me? We could make this place running and have fun, and these three weirdos think they own the place.
- Uh, maybe they do? - Dipper raised his brow - I mean, it looks like this place has a whole set of their movies...
Wendy gave him a disappointed stare.
- I thought you were on with this plan...
- Uh, Wendy, listen - he quickly corrected himself - I like watching old movies with you, but you know, at your place. I don't need-
- But wouldn't it be more fun? To see them on big screen?
- We could just... go to the regular movies, you know.
Wendy's smile faded away.
- You're no fun...
She kicked a nearby rock and turned around, and began walking down the hill.
- We-Wendy, wait!
Dipper slid after her, trying not to tumble down.
- Okay, let's-let's say I'm up with... this crazy plan. How could we do this?
Wendy's freckled face lightened, gracing Dipper with a beaming smile. She reached to her pocket and took her phone out.
- Well, answer this: who are you gonna call?
Dipper's eyes widened, as he understood her plan.
- Oh, great, phoneboxes can fit in a pocket now! Hope the bills are equally small. - Moustachio said, appearing out of the ground.
Several hours and one phonecall later, Wendy and Dipper came back to the abandoned drive-in theater, equipped with the best vacuum cleaners they could get.
The two shared knowing looks, nodded and stormed inside the projector room, ready to kick the ghosts' non-existent butts.
- Oh, good, we were waiting for you! We needed a fourth one. - Moustachio, Chorizo and Honky tossed their cards into the air, as the three left their card game.
- And the small one can be the joker!
- Hey! - Wendy stepped forward - Don't you ever call him that...
She turned on the portable vaccum cleaner and with a steady hand, aimed it at the three, with Dipper quickly joining her, sucking the stale air, and the ghosts with it.
The three spectres let out sharp yells (Honky using a triangle), and grabbed a nearby rail, as their bodies stretched and thinned, being sucked into the machines Dipper and Wendy pointed at them.
But as the two were sure of their victory, the three ghosts escaped their grip with ease, proving they were never in any danger at all, laughing and pointing at the teenagers, floating freely above them.
- Oh come on, using Hoovers to get rid of ghosts? - Moustachio rolled his eyes - We were the ones making comedies for fifty years, and even that plot is too silly for us.
- And I bet you didn't even change the bags, we're kinda sick of the dust and all!
- Oh, we were not going to trap you here...
Wendy and Dipper smiled at the same time, reaching into their pockets.
- Don't you know that cameras can trap souls?
And with that, the room was illuminated with flashes of light, as the two began shooting the ghosts with photo after photo, making them twist and writhe in after-agony.
A loud piano tune broke the silence, as Honky waved a white flag.
- Alright, alright, stop doing that! - Moustachio yelled - We've already sold our souls to Hollywood, who knows how much we have left.
At once, Dipper and Wendy lowered their "weapons", still wearing the same cocky smiles.
- So, you youngsters want to spend a night at a cinema, eh? Well, I guess it's yours, we can haunt a vaudeville or something.
- Nah, you can stay here. - Wendy eagerly countered - We just wanted to do some cleaning...
The two raised their vacuum cleaners and turned them on, this time pointing to the dusty, dusty floor.
===========
It took Dipper a better part of the day cleaning the projector room, and the next four or five days restoring the parking lot.
Wendy offered to cut down the trees that have overgrown the place, and she came back the next day with a few benches made out of the same wood, as the place was certainly not up for any cars anymore.
Dipper took care of the electric circuits, making sure the place was up to the modern standards ("You don't want to know how much worse the Health and Safety inspectors are in the afterlife, kiddo!").
Wendy also nicked some fresh white bedsheets and used them to repair the white screen to properly display the movie.
By the end of a week of tiring work, the theater, though still looking old, was at least brought to a working state, with Wendy and Dipper excited to be it first customers, before opening it to the public.
They walked into the projector room, where the three ghosts turned on the machine, lighting up the glade with white light. But as Dipper was about to pick up a reel of a movie, Moustachio grabbed it and absorbed them into his see-through body, together with the rest of the collection.
- Hey! What gives? - Wendy shouted back.
- You know, we gave it a thought, and we're not just gonna play the movies for ya'. - Moustachio spoke - I figured out how to retroactively file a copyright claim on our movies! They're no longer in public domain, they're in boo-blic domain.
The three ghosts grinned.
- If you want to run this cinema, now you have to pay us!
- And we will adjust for inflation! - Chorizo added.
- What? No!
- We should bust you again just because of that joke. - Dipper added - And besides, who told you how to do that?
By now, Dipper should have learned not to ask questions about money in Gravity Falls.
- Hiya kids!
- Grunkle Stan?!
Wendy and Dipper roared in disbelief, as the old entrepreneur casually walked into the room, playfully swinging his cane.
- I see you've met my pals! - he grinned jovially and closed his arm around the ghosts in a brotherly hug. - And I gotta tell you, I have huge plans for this place. Look, I stole some microchips or whatnot from Ford and glued them to the cups.
He tilted a large styrofoam cup he was holding, proudly presenting a small, sparkling device underneath it.
- And apparently, now you cannot get refills! You have to buy a new drink every time! And I only kinda understand how it works!
He burst into maniacal laughter, dragging his ghostly friends with him. The men laughed and walked out of the projector room, though only one of them was able to do it without colliding into a wall.
- Well, looks like this is it.
Dipper sighed and turned away, kicking a half-century old can. But he quickly felt Wendy's hand on his shoulder, as she stopped him.
- Maybe... but guess who made camrips of their movies?
She waved her phone, and Dipper's face brightened, before they too burst into a fit of giggles. With the prize in their hand, the two teenagers were soon running away to a much cozier place.
A few minutes later, they were sitting in the dilapidated car, in front of now-empty screen, their faces illuminated by the light of the cellphone. The two laughed, as an actor from the bygone days said the same joke for the fifth time in a row, getting his face plastered with a pie.
- Hey, Dipper? - Wendy suddenly asked, in the middle of a musical number
- Yeah?
- Thanks for everything. And for... you know, helping me out.
- Yeah, shame it didn't work.
- Hey, it wasn't that bad. We've had some fun, didn't we?
Even though her face was half-hidden in shadows, Dipper could see a faint blush, contrasting with her gleaming, emerald eyes, which in turn made his cheeks match her.
Their faces got closer and closer, and suddenly, the warm August night became as hot as noon in the middle of a heatwave. And just as their lips were about to meet, they were drowned in white, bright light and they jumped in their seats as the old speaker crackled with a high-pitched noise.
The two looked at the sign projected on to the screen, and groaned, when the ghost repeated those words.
- Kissing costs extra five bucks!
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Creation, Both Haunted and Holy - CHAPTER 2!
I’ve been working on this thing for weeks straight, to make it as amazing as possible!
As always, I am dragging @muffinlance‘s AUs into my work
this is the angsty one :) yUP, the year-old au!
and don’t worry, i have another one in progress... also using a muffinlance- inspired au- one of the more obscure ones, i think!
Mother Hama is. Suspiciously nice to write, and very angsty
TRIGGERS: Graphic-ish descriptions of wounds and child abuse! Please beware, my dudes! Things will get better soon, but this is really really bad right now!
LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578904
OR, READ HERE :)
In the moon’s light, an urutau-vulture screeches out its song, pure and eerie grief ringing out in the wind.
And that’s how Zuko’s mind briefly comes back to reality.
Awareness fading in and out with each breath he wheezes through.
With wakefulness, comes the purest of agonies. A mouth open, voice too hoarse to scream out for help.
The hot pain, all over him, the memories tugging at his head, the memories of-
The burning. A cleanse that felt so dirty, like-
Oh, the sheer smell of it-
Of him.
The smell of cooked meat is his.
He wheezes out a cough, remembers the time Mom had no servants to help her, and had asked Azula to light up the fire for them to cook.
He tries thrashing about, to get a good view.
Mom ought to be around there, around somewhere.
(Even if it’s been so long since she was last around.)
She must be there, somewhere he can’t see, maybe in the blurry shade of the trees. She will bring a bucket and cool water, and she will hold him and-
“W-Where’s mom?” he tries asking, to nothing, to no one.
But only one of his ears hear it, the raspy, damaged sound that he can hardly recognize as his own voice.
He tries to ask again, words broken, tear tracks he can only feel in one cheek.
The burning pain he struggles to breathe over.
He doesn’t know what happened, but he can’t move. Can’t do anything, nothing but begging for it to go away.
“Where?” his voice comes out, finally.
The pain in his throat finally registers with the blabbered words, and suddenly he feels like he’s been screaming for all too long.
I’m sorry, Larva, says the feeling of hands on him. I’m so sorry it came to this.
Ghostly hands that don’t quite hurt when they touch his left side.
There is no shadow to hold him, though.
He can’t remember what happened, but the questions come to his mind nonetheless.
Why does it hurt so much? Why is his arm numb, why can’t-
Go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe, little Vessel.
The voice is soft, warm.
And, as the moon sings her song, his brief moment of awareness fades off.
Only one eye closing, as he breathes out again.
Painful, laboral.
His last thought is that he hates it.
The tone in the voice.
It’s all too-
.
.
.
-
It’s in the way the moon sings, as the boy’s skin peels off.
It’s in the way he doesn’t let any infection set in.
Scabbing away as the days pass, as Vaatu tries to heal him.
But there’s a reason the two of them were together. Glued, some might say.
Possessed, united fully.
He is part of Zuko, he is his mind and he is confined, locked away from seeking any further help. Not while the boy is that hurt, not while he can’t be awake and alive on his own.
Were it not a tragedy of occasion, his tendency to lock himself in the tiniest confides would be quite entertaining to watch.
Maybe, were it not happening to him, of all creatures.
Truly, he has been reduced to cowering on corners, to being not much more than a shadow.
Was it selfish, to wish for freedom when he had given it up to save his Vessel?
The two of them had done it.
An Avatar State of their own volition.
A sacrilege against the nature of a human body, a way to twist and bend their souls, braided together into a necklace of rope.
He doesn’t want to tell his boy what happened.
What the two of them had done.
He was too young to know what their purpose really was.
What would happen next, once he managed to get Zuko awake for more than a few minutes, enough time for them to scavenge, to do anything?
But keeping him awake, at that moment, would be nothing short of insane.
Yes, he must change. But this is too painful. Vaatu can feel the pulsing, the infection begging to seep in, to eat away at their flesh.
The way the dead limb hangs limply, charred black. The way the damaged leg attracts flies, like a plate of fruit slathered in honey, only kept away by him.
Blisters that look like they could open into eyes, watch the world for them all.
And so, Vaatu brushes off the sickness, scares away the vermin.
Lets his presence seep through, for nothing can keep him from affecting the world, not even being tied so deeply to his vessel.
The woods grow around them, thick foliage, colorful flowers in the vines.
No other spirit to bless or curse them.
Just the lonesome pocket of the world to which Vaatu and his Vessel have gone.
He is the eye of the shadow, the chaos that lurks deep in that tiny, undisturbed piece of the world.
He is a warning to the creatures.
He warns the world to stay away, lest it feel his disruption. His returning strength, his effect on the world around them finally taking place again.
Now that they are united, he can see that they could easily become unstoppable.
Rotting limbs thrown into any position, blackened flesh still smelling like it's been cooked.
The way it all brews in the two of them is nauseating.
The sickness is in the bursts of consciousness, when the one eye that can close opens up, blurry from tears.
When his head faces up and he sobs, lonesome and in pain.
Vaatu tries keeping the pain at bay, even if just by lulling him to bed.
Their vengeance is yet to be completed.
Disaster will strike again, he will make sure of it.
He tries telling, he tries consoling.
We will come back, he says. Rest for now, their fate is incoming.
But he is just a voice in his head, the feeling of a ghost-limb that can't really pull back hair, brush away feverish sweat.
Even if their Vessel is growing more powerful, Vaatu feels as weak as he can be.
But, as consciousness slips away again, he can’t help but notice the way the world is shifting around them.
The way the rabbit-mice has started chasing the otter-fox.
It is a victory, but it feels wrong.
-
Unsteady feet, weight put all into one as Zuko drags himself up.
The pain is hot and hard, it almost drives away the overwhelming hunger.
He didn’t think it could get that bad.
It could be worse, Vaatu says, but his voice still sounds angry.
Maybe not at him, but angry nonetheless.
(Angry like-)
When coherency slips away from his mind, when the pain is too much, as each of his slow, measured hops grows more and more exhaustive, he feels something in him beg for destruction.
But he won’t.
In the same way that Vaatu won’t bring him food, in the same way he will stay quiet, never saying a word of what happened to him.
Zuko wants to proclaim that he isn’t forgiven, but for the moment, his focus is on the steps.
Barely more than hops, as his one useful hand hangs onto trees.
Bare feet, grass scratching up against the angry, still-bleeding skin.
The question is pressing, rubbing against the back of his mind, as he cries out and whines, intense pain barely dimmed.
How is he alive?
All firebenders are taught about the sheer power of their fire, about the great deeds and prowesses they can achieve.
About how much damage they can inflict upon their enemies, when they chose not to end their suffering.
It should be infected.
I am trying not to let that happen, Vaatu whispers in his head, like it's a secret, like saying it out loud will destroy their chances of it getting any better.
He isn’t moving in the shadow.
“The left side feels green.” he says, barely noticing he’s speaking at all.
Sunlight streams in through the gaps in the foliage. The moon is going to rise up soon, and the world is orange and it all feels green.
Find help, the voice instructs. You need someone to help you.
“First, food.” he argues, hearing the rumbling of his stomach. “I mean- Where there is food, there are people.”
You make a surprisingly decent point, he says, and there ought to be some farmhouses around here.
Zuko shudders.
People watched back there, people saw his shame burned into skin, his last rite of passage.
His whining sounds pitiful to his own head, but he can’t make his mouth shut up.
Involuntary sounds, flinches and shudders, as he drifts through.
Tall grass scraping against his wound, every touch sending new jolts of it.
The gentle breeze, the falling petals of flowers, blown away by the wind.
All so gentle. The kind pulsing of the world’s fiery heart, a piece of peace in the battlefield of its little nations.
And all so, so very painful.
Maybe this tells more than it shows, but pain is hard to show through words, hard to show through barely coherent thoughts, by the mind of a child who had never been through such great agony before.
A bad leg that can’t sustain his weight much longer.
Tiny complaints amidst panting.
He feels like he is the only source of noise. The world is eerily still.
Holding its breath.
Zuko shudders, tree bark scraping at tiny hands.
He looks down on himself.
A foot half-blackened. White and violent red, all blistered and-
Cooked. Broken.
Zuko doesn’t look at his left arm.
He is all too broken, all too destroyed by the time he’s been through.
You aren’t, says the voice.
Scabs that peel away too easily, like they were never meant to form.
Droplets of blood calling for any animal. He is prey, and the world is so, so very much now.
The disorganization of the world doesn’t manage to feel quite right, quite how it should be.
Like someone’s disrupted it before, like they’ve re-organized the world into something it shouldn’t be.
Something hangs in the air, hidden but never overshadowed by the smell of his tracks.
Yes, deliberate.
They’re onto something, he realizes.
A pike of wood, somewhere from which a scarecrow once stood.
“A garden.” he says. “I think we’ve found a garden.”
Purring at the back of his head, his blurry eye half-focusing around him.
A bush at the entrance.
Calling to him.
Food.
It has to be food.
Overtaken by hunger, he can only see them.
The rest of the garden is just carrots, little beets and a cabbage or two.
Nothing that looks that sweet.
And so, Zuko drops down, hisses in pain and twitches about, before grabbing a handful of berries in his one hand.
Vaatu takes a minute too long to realize they’re the kind used to make rat poison.
-
Her abode is a humble one.
A tiny inn she’s set up, rooms rarely occupied.
Of course, she has other places for travelers to sleep in.
It’s her lair, made of damp wood, of floorboards that creak comfortably under her old feet. Of roofs that leak, of the smell of a harmless old person.
She has a thousand little closets, a million nooks and crannies.
Hidden memorabilia, memories she’s carved back up for herself.
All wheatered by rain and by soot, but kept clean and tidy, far away from the fire.
She didn’t have many clients, but she had more than enough time to tend to the ones she had.
And so she did, for a time.
She kept herself satisfied, working towards her goals day in and out.
Followed through with a routine, day in and day out. Cooked plenty for herself, made sure she had the energy to follow through with her tasks.
That night, she can feel the full moon.
A welcome presence above her, making the world pulse with her divinity.
She has blessed the woman with her presence, and so, that night, she will go…
Watch the moon.
It’s a nice way to talk about the indulgence in her favourite of all things.
When she can make the world malleable around her, when she can dance and sing, pulling at the strings that bind the world together.
She smiles, feels it pull at her eyes.
That night will be formidable, she thinks
With finality, she treks along.
Yet, she doesn’t feel alone.
How can she, when the full moon rises, making the world finally feel alive again?
The leaves crackling under her feet as she strides, the roots and branches snapping under her like she is a mighty beast.
Remainders of the sun’s warmth slowly seeping out, Tui taking her rightful place in the throne of the sky.
Her court of stars, rising slow and steady in its march.
And the world is silent around her. She knows it ought to be gawking at her, the last of her kind.
“Oh?” comes out of her mouth, before she can even stop herself.
An ear strained out.
“What is that…” she tsk-s in amusement, looks around with a half-absent mind.
Just what poor creature dares it, to choke in her garden, to foam over the leaves of her poison, to die in Hama’s territory?
-
Wakefulness comes slowly.
His brow furrows in confusion, only half his vision able to focus.
But he doesn’t need to.
All Zuko sees is darkness.
He shivers, suddenly hit with the sheer cold of the room.
It's eerie.
He doesn’t know where he is.
He lashes out, trashes about.
His feet burn. Tied together with rope.
There are no windows, the space cramped. The sickeningly sweet smell of mold, the only sound meeting his ears, his own panting.
Like a piece of bread that’s been left hanging around for all too long.
Something is wrong.
It’s in the way his tongue feels garbled when he tries to talk, it’s in the way he can’t quite move.
It’s in the involuntary twitching of a dead limb, that he can’t stop, even when it hurts.
He can’t sit up, wouldn’t even if the dizziness would let him.
Vessel, are you okay? comes to his head.
Why didn’t you stop me, he tries asking. Where are we? Why are we here?
There are no little hands in the shadows, no feeling of a ghost hand touching him.
But the pain is dulled, pushed back.
Cloaked.
“Where am I?” he looks around. “Va-Voice, where are we?”
Someone brought us here, Larva. Get up, I’m curious.
“Then move on your own.” he spits. “I’m tied up. Stupid.”
Regret makes him shake his head, but Vaatu is too old to hold up a grudge.
I can’t. We are united now, Larva. We are one in the same, and wherever you go, I go too.
“Chained?” he remembers. Like he is. Stuck, chained.
Chained. But fret not, my Larva, for stagnation will not come back to us. For now, though, you shall recover your energies.
A groan, as he lifts his hand, swipes a bug from his brow.
You sound like Uncle goes unsaid, but leaves the taste of bile on his mouth nonetheless.
Shudders, head shakes. The feeling of strands of patchy hair brushing against his shoulder.
He may not be alone, but there's no armor, no protection.
Zuko shivers, suddenly cold.
A part of him would give anything for that surge of power, for the feeling of the elements at his will, ready to be summoned up, to be harnessed and used as he deems fit.
For anything that can protect him, even with the collateral damage.
He can’t do anything, but he struggles to turn to his side nonetheless, to crawl out of the pile of rags that was his bed.
He can’t get up, so he drags his body along, pulls it slowly.
A trail of blood from his left side, scraped against the floorboards.
Dragged by his hand, whining and growling.
He can’t untie himself, no matter how much he tries.
Some kind of different knot - intricate, woven tight.
Vaatu guides him slowly, words that barely register to his mind.
Nausea, the feeling of ants crawling at the tips of his fingers as he drags himself to the door.
Get to the door - away from the fabric, it burns too easily - and then you can burn through the rope.
And suddenly, he wants to scream.
“I’m not burning myself. Shut up!” he plops onto his right side, drool pooling at the left corner of his mouth.
Beyond his control.
You know how to control the heat. It wouldn’t hurt. It's like pulling a bandage.
“Shut up.” he tries screaming, but his voice comes off hoarse.
… I apologize. I understand your fear, Vessel.
“I’m not forgiving you.”
I won’t let you stagnate for long, but feel free to stand your ground for a few more days.
“I’ll give you a week.” A bit of snark, that comes off soft.
A dry chuckle that breaks through the darkness.
He rolls his eyes, but can’t bring a smile up. He knows it would hurt. It would sting on his face, it would pull at the burns.
He reaches the door, struggles onto his knees, pulls at the handle.
Rattled, shaken, pulled and pushed with the feeblest of strengths.
Breaths growing quicker, as the weight of what he had done sets onto his shoulders.
Oh, what he did-
You should’ve eaten your vegetables, comes out as a light-hearted attempt, falling so very short.
“Shut up.” he wants to yell, because he’s locked in a strange home and oh Agni-
It’s dawning on him, slowly and steadily, just what he did.
Just what happened.
He hurt them.
(He did much worse.)
Falls to the floor. Looks at his one hand.
Now only one. Covered with little burns, old marks of his failures set onto his wrists. Little reminders of hands that were once there.
His breath, puffing out as smoke in the dark, cold room.
And suddenly, tears are falling down onto his hand.
(Father did that.)
No voice to comfort him. Nothing but the oppressiveness of his lonesome state.
Zuko wants to drown in tears, but his left eye refuses to cry, his bony body refuses to shake with sobs just yet.
So he just shrinks in there, holds himself close through the pain, pretends someone else is there to hold him.
"W-why?" He asks, feeling only half of his mouth move.
Words coming out garbled, blabbered through tears.
No answer comes, and he feels all alone.
He is a big boy, he wants to remind himself.
A big boy indeed, and that's why he cries and cries and cries, ignoring how the hollow place of the moon is soon filled by Agni’s eye.
-
The walks back home tend to be a less than exciting ordeal.
Oh, of course there's glee. Catharsis, even.
But lately, there’s some more than that. There’s the weight of the years on her shoulders, the soreness on her legs, the ache engraved deep into her bones.
That’s the vengeance of her people, of the men and women slain, torn down from the inside, overtaken by insanity.
She was meant to do it. It was why the art had come to her, it was why she had mastered it.
To bring down the rain of vengeance.
Nonetheless, that particular walk was made through with a quicker step, with a less vengeful head.
She had spent so long hurting, and the ones who hurt were the ones who learned how to heal the best.
She knew where to make it ache, and she had studied plenty of how to heal before.
(Kanna and her, studying scrolls that would be burned less than a day later, until late at the night.
Listening to the tribe's men sing and dance around the campfire, laughing and betting. Rolling their eyes, t hey healed eachother with little kisses by the moonlight, as Hama listened to Tui's song, to the calling of the full moon.
And with her friend's mittened hand in hers, she closed her eyes and felt the warm pulse of a world suddenly coming to life.
In the night's light, the cold wind whipping against their warm bodies, they danced together.
A dance that would soon turn into brisk movements, into desperate jabs.
But, at the moment and to that very day, the times before were painted with a rose-tinted glass.)
What mattered was that she had a patient, someone hurt as badly as she once was.
A son of ash and soot, a child with an eye burned open, blinded but still moving.
A child whose mere existence, whose life was astounding to her. How could that little thing keep going, how could he crawl to her and lay by her grassbed?
A little creature that proved her either insane or lucky enough to have a spirit in her hands.
He was going to be useful, she had decided when she found him foaming at the mouth, turning and twisting, rubbing dirt all over the open wound.
She’d cleaned him up, she had left him a nice little room, for an ashmaker that had yet to pay her back.
He would be grateful, that was certain.
And she’d seen first hand, how gratitude could destroy a man. Break down his flesh, make him bow and worship like a dog.
(She'd stood, suspended in her cell, watching an affair below.
The guard with bright yellow eyes, a glint like that of golden daggers, pointed towards her favorite prisoner.
A young woman, barely more than a girl.
She was from a neighboring tribe. Beautiful button nose and plump lips, bowing down low, foreign words slipping off her tongue.
She was meant to sing to the moon and the sea, but she sung their tribe’s songs upon anyone’s request. Danced as well as she could, tied up in chains.
A slap to the back of her head, something in the dirty ashmaker's speech.
A correction, two apologies delivered in a low bow.
Forgiveness in the form of a plump bowl of jook and not much else.)
Her garden blooms around her.
What little use she could make of the soil there. Little plants, poisonous berries. Nothing too beautiful or lavish. She was just a humble old woman, afterall.
She’d been nice, asked around the village. Seeds, some tools. She was sweet and defenseless, and nobody ever dared suspect her to her face.
The village had never been a tribe.
And the house she lived in had always been just that. A house. Some might stretch it and call it a lair.
Not quite a home, as much as she tries to keep it cold, to make it feel like one when she closed her eyes, and look like one when she dared open them up.
That place is still a land of fire. Lava below her, the sun all too hot, not a single break in his wicked reign.
She misses the polar winters. They’d always been so good for weeding out the weak and the fiery alike.
Perhaps her glasses are tinted blue, contrasting all too sharply against the blood-red of that place.
But the point still stands in her mind. That place is no real home.
It doesn't have the foundations to be one.
It doesn't have the people to make it one.
There’s no Kana or Panuk or any of the children running about. There is no tribe to embrace her, no new stories to tell around the campfire. No dealings with the neighbors, and no polar-bear sled dogs to lead to the market every month.
There’s only the oppressive loneliness of a single person lost in the sea of snakes.
But for now, she can rejoice in the luxury of a new toy. One that can be mended, sewn and filled up with the truth. A child of ash, all hers.
(Malleable as the water she’d once sculpted into ice.)
Slow footsteps, steady smile. A bit of excitement, despite the bits of a lazy cat in her demeanor.
The doors of the inn, all open and empty.
Until the locked closet.
It’s their smallest room. It’s perfect for someone that small, that frail.
A plant left in a pot too big will soon spread, grow out of control.
If he grows up well enough, if his leaves twist and bend and his roots stretch out as he tries to reach the sun, she will put him on a leash.
Hama had been wanting something to keep her entertained.
-
He sobs and heaves and nearly vomits once or twice.
Snot and bile, no comfort, no caress.
Not a word amidst the fit. Nothing that he can hear, nothing that can make itself noted in his mind.
His body hurts, but there is no infection to take him away, to lend him a hand.
He can’t think straight. Repulse fills his throat whenever he thinks of himself, whenever he opens his eye for enough time to truly see himself.
And he can’t do this, he thinks.
Like any child does, he slips into a spiral, falls down and down.
Thoughts swirling in his head, screams that his throat can't force out.
Until something breaks through, snaps him out of it.
The sound of a door creaking open.
A tiny stream of the morning’s light drifts into the room, so gentle yet so bright, revealing dust that doesn’t quite form bunnies and mold growing on the walls of a cramped closet.
The decrepit coldness is suddenly accentuated, with the gentle warmth that hits his back.
He shudders, suddenly, as the light is taken away.
When he turns, a figure stands, back-lit in the doorway.
Old and hunched, his blurry eyes barely able to focus on anything but her kind smile.
He turns to her, ready to question why she left his legs tied up, why she locked him there, how long he'd been alone, what she wants to do now-
“Are- Are you-” he tries stuttering out a question, but suddenly, he realizes he doesn’t know just what he wants to ask.
She comes closer, looks down upon him.
“Bow down and ask, young one.” she says, gently. “Be respectful of this old woman, won’t you?”
Vaatu growls at the back of his head, and, for a second, he forgets that his friend is simply locked inside his mind, with no real effect on the world once they’re not alone.
So, he breathes in deep, pretends there’s nothing wrong inside him.
And drops down in a rigit bow, so the kind woman won’t burn him.
“I am Hama. Who are you?” a cane pokes his burnt side, the arm that’s no longer there.
Deep breath. He knows who he is, and so will she.
“I’m Zuko. Son of-”
“Nobody.” she says. The harsh word startles him, slipped in such a gentle voice. “Not anymore. Not after what happened to you.”
He tries again.
“Zuko, son of P-”
A poke from the cane, right in a blister. He flinches and hisses, unable to stop himself.
“You are a son of nobody.” she says, her voice sweet as the smell of moldy grain. “After all that must’ve happened to you, it’s better as that. Poor thing.”
That silence lasts for a few seconds, before her voice returns, kinder, to his sight of nothing but fetid floorboards.
“Now, young one, tell me, what have they done to you?”
He won’t say. He won’t speak out again.
Not when Vaatu hisses, pure in his anger, taking over his head.
“Don’t you think you owe me that, after all I’ve helped you with?” a cane pokes his head, gently thumping against his skull. No real intention for pain, not on his bad side.
He gulps down something.
A single tear hits his lip, salty against the bitterness in his mouth.
Why does he cry? Why do the tears betray his mind, why does his gut feel so raw?
“I- I was burned.” he says.
“That I can see.” she says, gently. “Now come on, darling. I must know your affliction to heal you.”
“I was burned and banished.” he says. Words spilling out dirty and fetid and spat out like falling teeth.
But he tells no more. Hopefully, she won't see any tales of spirits, any curses or blessings to destroy.
(What if she wants to cleanse him, too?)
“Oh, dear.” she says, voice perfect in compassion.
Be careful, Vessel, Vaatu says in his head. His voice no longer a hiss, just a thought at the back of his mind. Do not trust her. Do not.
“That is very unfortunate.” she says. “Then, you aren’t Zuko, are you? As a banished boy, you have no name.”
“I- I still have my honor.” is the only defense he can give her.
And she laughs.
It would be warm, infectious as any other disease, were it not happening at that moment, when he felt raw and when his vulnerability was so easy to turn into anger.
“I am Hama, and you are Nobody.”
This is the point where the scene should end. Here, it should all fade away to silence, to maybe a sob or two, a twitch or whine at his own discomfort, until he is instructed to get up.
But please, remember just who we are talking about.
Nothing ends when or how it should, down here.
“B-But-” he tries stammering out, his heart thundering in his chest. His voice can’t come out as a scream, but it tries.
Maybe, a part of him thinks, his voice will be heard then.
She pokes him again, straight at the ribs.
“Nobody.” she says. “Nobody, with that attitude.”
If only she knew, he wanted to say.
Be nobody, Vaatu whispers, locked inside his head.
Zuko wants to fight. He wants to bite and gnash and destroy, to bend and twist and fall upon that state again, that state that made him-
“Not nobody,” he says. “I- I’ll prove to you. I’m not nobody. I swear on my honor.”
He can feel her smile.
“Son of nobody, then.” she says. “But make good on that promise, please.”
Hissing in his head, he looks up.
Tap, straight at a hollowed-out cheek.
“Stay down.” she says. “The light might hurt your eyes, so keep down low, son. I’ll get you something to eat.”
-
#writing#fanfic#atla#atla aang#atla zuko#atla hama#avatar#avatar zuko#vaatu#avatar vaatu#fanwork#fandom#fanfiction#fantasy#angst#muffinlance#mother hama au#hama#avatar hama
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we almost fell (six feet underground)
Plot : they learn to cope with life
James and Lily , had they survived
It was still dark when her eyes flew open , back half lifting from the soft springs of the mattress and the thick sheets spread along the bed became too suffocating. It was still dark outside , barely the break of morning to peek through , and frozen in silence.
Her eyelids were stiff with sleep , for that seemed to be all they had done in the last days , their relief dwindling from the moment of euphoria where she clutched him in the white walls of the hospital, his beating heart pressed to her ear , the steady rise and fall of his chest, Lily had only had a single other moment in her life where she felt more relieved than then. When her son was in her arms too, the innocence of his face with soft puckered lips that made little sound but moved as if to tell her all the secrets of the world and it was all she could do not crush him , crush him in the hold of her arms and never left go.
Silence , something that had been precious mere days before, that had joined the ever strand of coping mechanisms when stuck , so inevitably stuck , hiding and not fighting, hiding. They were confined to their home in godric's hollow and there were days where the walls stifled the air thick with a cotton thread that strung their hope in a mess of lines until they couldn't quite find the end. But the silence they were afforded had come with peace, for they could rest with their bodies side by side and enjoy the tender moments by the fire, where they said nothing at all but they needed to be held , they needed that silence to know they were safe.
The birds were not yet up to sing their song , left to the eerie chimes of the witching hour and an empty space beside her where the bed was loosing warmth, and a streak of light dancing along the wall from the door that was ajar. It strained at her eyes as he brain fought to catch up, limbs stiff with the ache of the prolonged stunner , for they had been frozen in place for minutes she could not count , but that was worth it. All of this was worth it, to know her family were alive.
This was a new silence now , one that frosted the grass with dew before the rain had chance to fall and shivered against patches of skin left open to the vulnerable cold , so different. Because she was awake, and no sound stirred, and her heart lurched to her throat with an incessant beating, she could not hear.
She could not hear them.
They were quiet , they were quiet and a small part of her brain reminded her that it was the early hours of the morning and they were meant to be quiet , to be asleep. And yet her husband was not beside her, his forever cold feet pressing into her legs, the tickle of the stubble growing on his face to brush against the back of her neck, he was not there.
It was irrational panic , but then not really, as she swung herself from the warmth of the covers and fumbled with her slippers. A cruel thought chewing at the back of her mind as her hands found the soft silk of her dressing gown, that in the dark and silence of what she would find - nothing at all.
The hall was lit with light and that soothed the stirring of frazzled fire, combing a tired hand through her the knots of her hair , her feet searching. A twinge of pain ran down her neck , reduced from the pulsing that plagued the back of her head , a thin scar hidden behind the thick curtain of red.
Her fingers found the door handle , her breath catching and maybe she hated herself a little for hesitating. There were still cracks in the wall, the handle loose in its hold and she pushed it open but her feet would not move.
Lily was looking for her child , but instead found her eyes swimming to the spot where she had been stood , a lump rising in her throat alongside an ugly thought; would she have the strength to do it again? She would, she could, but a pinch of doubt and a thousand scenarios and what if she had stood aside.
A hand fluttered up to her lips, pressing them tight to withhold the exhausted cry trapped in her throat , and then the wispy figures that plagued her dreams were lost from sight and no patch of carpet would blindside her from what she had to see , what she needed to know.
And her fingers found the cot , fixed - she didn't know when , she didn't know who, maybe she didn't want to know ? - the polished wood crafted beneath her fingers. James had put it together himself, whilst Sirius and Remus argued over the instructions, because her husband demanded to do it the 'proper' way and Peter .. Peter.
She'd never seen him more motivated to help before , a gentle thought had her wondering if she'd been looking hard enough , but between the four of them , little Harry's nursery ' I recommend his name to be Sirius Junior !' , ' Poor child ' had the baby blue walls painted and his furniture standing with weeks to spare.
She couldn't bring herself to hate the room , even after everything else. She couldn't, not when her little boy was the beacon of light that rolled out something warm across the the floor, something that outweighed everything that happened, even if she struggled to take the first step.
He was there , half curled beneath baby sized blanket with a hand clutching absently at the stuffed lion and a soft blush of red to his cheeks.
Lily felt herself smile tenderly , though her eyes suspiciously bright and wet as her hand moved down to stroke the soft silk of his hair , and find the rise of his chest to dampen any cause of worry , she knew how lucky they had been.
"Mumma loves you Harry ," she whispered , the echo of her same words on that night , but this time her baby would wake up in the morning and she would be around to see the wash of his big jewel eyes and the soft scrunch of his nose.
"So so much."
Now she was sure he child was there , breathing , safe. Though they could never be sure and would never be sure as their trust seemed shattered at their feet and they did not have the strength to pick it up again. But as long as she lived, she would do everything in her power to make sure no man , no women , no monster harmed her child.
A stir from downstairs , and she flinched unconsciously, her wand left on her bedside table with a hundred thoughts that followed in quick succession and maybe she moved to place herself between the door and her boy.
But Lily didn't , even as she cursed herself for leaving it behind, leaving them with misfortune to another's hand and what could have protected them from the shadow that crept up the stairs. There wasn't one, and she tried to remember that the only shadow now was her own.
Another noise , a stumbling of shuffling feet and the sound of paper ruffled and she lingered for a moment longer to capture every piece of Harry in her mind, before moving away to the landing.
She left the door ajar. Not sure to what extent that would do anything, should a Death Eater attempt to take revenge for their masters death, but still it have some small comfort, forcing herself not to cuddle him to her chest at every possible chance.
The stairs creaked in all the right places, the familiar spots she knew to step like clockwork, expect the last one. As the floor of the hall drew nearer, a dent still left in its wood, and she worked past the catch of breath in her throat.
Nobody looked at it. Not Sirius , not Remus , not her.
Nobody expect for James could stand to glance at it , to touch it even , a stark reminder and a ghostly echo left in her mind , forever ingrained in her nightmares the sound of his body falling limp like a rag doll against the floor.
A heavy thump , and his footsteps , a heavy thump , and Harry had cried a little harder , a heavy thump , and it wasn't meant to be like that.
He was there, as she stepped over the bottom step and the floorboards croaked their groan through the air , the soft light of the dining room peered her way , a single lamp switched on and his figure slumped in a chair , his figure very much alive.
Lily released a breath she didn't know she was holding , and started towards him. Their small home hadn't seemed so small; not a month ago when Harry was flying his broom , not a year ago when he was gurgling from her arms for the first time , not before then when their bodies were crammed to the sofa and swinging bottles of butterbeer.
Not when Marlene and Dorcas were alive to hold him too.
Not when Dumbledore spoke of the prophecy and there was no more butterbeer, no more friends , no more freedom.
But not the walls loomed in a way they had not before , with the shadows and creaks , their home haunted by memories.
"James."
He looked up slowly from where his gaze rested on the article in his hands , as if peeling then away from the most important document ever to exist and in a way , for him , she knew it was.
Lily didn't need to see the heading printed in thick black ink to know what it said. It's what they all said.
POTTERS ALIVE BY SOME MIRACLE , FAMILY BETRAYED BY PETER PETTIGREW !
They hadn't believed it , James hadn't believed it , not at first , not until he confessed in the confines of Dumbledore's office and she wondered if they'd ever learn why.
"Sorry," he murmured, voice thick with sleep but so gratingly awake , and face lined with bags of stress pitched beneath his eyes. "Sorry I .. I couldn't sleep."
"I know." She replied softly , her hands finding their way to his shoulders , fingers pressing into the old t-shirt he'd thrown on to feel the heat beneath his skin.
"I don't get it." He sighed tiredly , a hand scrubbed down his face , staring with an almost unreadable expression at the paper in the lamp light.
Almost , almost unreadable. But she could see it, the pain that clung to the flicker of his eyelashes and the sadness in the bob of his Adam's apple. Hazel flecks left bloodshot, by a sleepless night or by tears, she would guess both.
Lily waited silently, rubbing gently at his shoulders, reassuring herself more than him that he were indeed there, indeed alive.
"He wasn't tortured, he wasn't hurt, he wasn't anything except sorry-"
His throat cut off and his lips pressed in a firm line, and Lily let out a soft exhale, pressing a kiss to his head, dark hair smooth against her face.
"That has to count for something though, that he was at the very least, sorry."
She whispered, not sure why she was even attempting to defend him, the man who almost got them killed, almost got their baby killed.
James shook his head slowly.
"It's more than that though," he croaked, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly, his mind working in overdrive. She could almost hear the heavy clogs turning in his brain, jammed at one end , so confused.
"There has to be more to it than just being scared - hell I was scared, I was terrified !"
His voice was rising , breaking the quaint sounds beginning to emerge from the outside world and the gentle quiet of the house.
"James," Lily murmured, her eyes prickling as he half rose out of his seat, wide eyes finding hers, glazed with something so irreversibly haunted. The same look she saw in the mirror.
"I was so fucking terrified , you were so terrified , why does being scared make it okay ?? I had to face Voldemort head on-!"
His voice cracked and fell , dripping off with only sadness following in its wake. The climbing sensation of hysteria dissipated and he slumped forwards breathing heavily, pressing his face into his hands once more.
"I just," he took a shaking breath as she slid down beside him , the hard chair cold beneath her legs.
"I just keep thinking about it."
And Lily knew where he was going as his hazel eyes turned to her glistening, what he would say, his train of thought no different from her own.
"About what might've happened if-"
"If the curse hadn't of rebounded." Lily finished softly for him , her hand shaking as it pressed against his cheek, gently guiding his face back towards her as he twisted away with the drip of a tear.
"James look at me," and he did, without question or cause, and maybe for all of this she loved him a little bit more.
"I know, I do it too. And if I can't hear him at night I .."
"Panic." He muttered, and his own hand enclosed her other that lay on the table as their heads drew closer together.
"But we are here, we are alive and Voldemort didn't get us." She repeated the words she had said to herself everyday since the event , only now gentle and firm in the air did she start to believe herself.
"Voldermort didn't get us"
James breathed to himself , eyes finding the paper once more as another tear escaped from his eye. Their heads pressed together, her forehead against the side of his and his hand travelling up to stroke her hair, the deep red he had adored and would always adore.
"Everything else can wait," he whispered into the silence.
And it would, they had days to be remember how to live. For now , they just had to love.
#fanfic#jily fanfiction#james potter#james potter fanfiction#lily evans#lily evans potter#lily evans fanfiction#jily lives#jily fic#jily love#harrypotter#hp marauders#hp fandom#harry potter fanfiction#james and lily#marauders era angst#marauders era one shot#hp fic
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Two Sides: Chapter 4
Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3)
Characters: Musical!Beetlejuice, Female!OC, Lydia Deetz, Barbara Maitland, Adam Maitland
Warnings: anxiety, supernatural elements, cursing, kissing, sexual references, strange dreams (?), mentions of death
Word Count: 1,878
Author’s Note: So it has been a while since I posted this fic...I’ve honestly been distracted by other writing ventures but I forgot how fun this story was to write, so I will be updating more frequently (if anyone is reading, that is). As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Enjoy :)
Chapter 4
“Oh, fuck oh fuck oh fuck what did I do—” Cassandra started to panic, all blood draining from her naturally rosy face. She checked the business card again, frantically scanning it for any more information on the frightening being that had suddenly appeared in her room. Beetlejuice looked absolutely elated. He straightened his tie as he eagerly crossed towards her, his hair still glowing a vibrant green that illuminated the entire room.
“Shh, hey, hey, hey, new girl, listen,” the demon cooed, fostering a false sense of security to quell her anxiety, “I just wanted to show my appreciation, what with you saying my name and all.” He extended his hand. Chipped black nail polish accented his fingertips. “Put her there.”
Cassandra had barely extended her hand towards his when, like lightning, Beetlejuice yanked her forward, causing her to stumble. In one fell swoop the demon caught the living woman, dipped her clumsily, and placed an entirely non-consensual kiss on her lips.
The ever-present smell of decay was increased exponentially now that Cassandra had come in direct contact with its source. She held her breath, paralyzed by the sudden and rather forceful kiss. When he finally released her, Beetlejuice sported a smug smile, licking his lips in what he thought was a seductive manner. Cassandra wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand, using every bit of strength in her to keep from vomiting at the taste of filth on her tongue.
“I can’t thank ya enough for setting me free, doll,” Beetlejuice said, running his hand through his sickly green hair. His frantic energy made Cassandra even more anxious, “Being dead is fun and all but sometimes a guy’s gotta stretch his legs back into the world of the living, ya know?”
Cassandra’s head was spinning. ‘So, this guy is dead?’ she thought at lightning speed, ‘And I somehow set him free—whatever that means—by reciting some word from a fucking business card?!’ Beetlejuice noticed her slack jawed expression and grinned coyly.
“I take it you don’t know who I am, do ya?” he said, knowing the answer. If she had known who he was, she would’ve never been naive enough to read the card out loud.
“No,” she said quietly, feeling a slight quiver in her voice as she spoke to the specter, “I mean, I’ve already met two dead people today, but they didn’t look anything like you. Who exactly are you, again?”
“I’m the ghost with the most, babes,” he replied, adjusting his coat, as if smoothing down the ratty suit jacket would make him look even the slightest bit presentable, “That word you so generously repeated three times is my name. Don’t wear it out.” The man grinned, and Cassandra scanned him again, noticing he had what appeared to be light green moss growing on his face.
The striped suit, the green hair and moss…it triggered a strange sense of déjà vu. Suddenly, her mind flashed back to her eerie dream from the car ride. A look of dawning realization crossed her face, causing the demon to smile as if he were reading her mind.
“Yeah, that little vision you had earlier?” he said, smiling proudly, “That was all me. Breathers make it so easy to get into their heads, especially when they already have an affinity for the strange and unusual.” He quirked an eyebrow, studying her confused expression, “Though, not strange and unusual enough to see me when you arrived.”
“So, you’re invisible to everyone unless someone says your name three times?” Cassandra questioned. The specter nodded his head, “And I ‘set you free’? What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I can affect the human world again,” he said with casually, whipping out a cigarette and beat-up purple lighter, “Lyds banished me a couple of months ago because I might’ve accidentally set fire to some shit around the house. Major bummer. But thanks to you, BJ is back, baby—”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Cassandra said, cutting him off, “You know Lydia too?” She felt her blood begin to boil as another secret her roommate kept from her was revealed.
“Oh yeah, ‘course I do,” the demon said as he silently held out his pack of Marlboros, totally oblivious to the woman’s anger. Cassandra waved them away and he shrugged, taking a long drag of the cigarette wedged between his wide fingers, “She and I go way, way back. Adam and Babs too. In fact, they—” Suddenly, the door swung open, causing the demon’s mouth to clamp shut. Lydia stood in the doorway, her thin frame heaving with fury.
“Hey, asshole,” she said, her voice quiet and controlled, “How the fuck did you get back here.” Lydia marched up to the ghoul through a cloud of cigarette smoke, grabbing his tie and pulling him downward a few inches to meet her eyeline.
Though Beetlejuice presented himself as a terrifying demon, Lydia’s rage had him shaking in his striped suit, the cigarette that hung loosely in his mouth moments before falling lightly thumping onto the hardwood floor. He silently pointed at Cassandra, who had her arms folded across her chest, her fingers gripping her arms tightly as she stared at her roommate. Lydia’s expression softened, and she let go of her ghostly companion and crossed to her roommate, who was growing redder by the second.
“Cassie, how—”
“Oh, I don’t know, Lydia,” Cassandra snapped before the question could even be completed, “maybe if you didn’t leave weird summoning cards around, I wouldn’t have accidentally met another one of your friends. I take it that he’s a ghost, too?”
“Well, technically I’m a demon, but—” Beetlejuice started, thoroughly loving the drama. Lydia held up a hand to silence him once more. She pointed to the door.
“You,” she said, her blood still boiling from his shenanigans, “Out. Now.” Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes, and with a snap of his fingers, he vanished.
“Look, Cass,” Lydia said, pinching the bridge of her nose, clearly overwhelmed, “I had nothing to do with the card. Beej did. I didn’t think I’d have to tell you about him because I assumed he was still good and banished. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Just, please tell me what’s going on?” Cassandra said, a clear strain in her voice, “I honestly don’t think my heart can take any more surprises today. Full truth, no secrets.” Lydia exhaled deeply and sat on the edge of the bed, motioning for her roommate to follow.
She recapped as much as she possibly could in a short amount of time. Lydia told Cassandra all of the important points: meeting Barbara and Adam after moving in, running into Beetlejuice on the roof, wreaking havoc, travelling to the Netherworld.
“He tried to do what—?” Cassandra blurted when Lydia mentioned Beetlejuice’s scheme to become human, “Were you not, like, 15?” Lydia shrugged.
“It was a green card thing,” she deadpanned. Cassandra cracked an incredulous smile, and Lydia broke into a giggle, “Seriously though, I weirdly understand why he did it. He wanted to be alive again so badly, and I had a plan to get rid of him. Turns out ‘marrying’ him gave him a dose of reality and me a chance to send his ass back to the Netherworld.” Cassandra raised her eyebrows in agreement, still trying wrap her mind around how marrying a ghost (demon? spirit? eldritch horror?) would bring them back to life.
“So why did you let him back, after all the shit he pulled, I mean?” Cassandra asked. Lydia picked at her black nail polish, which began flaking onto the bedspread.
“I, well…I saw how lonely he was,” she confessed, “That’s what made us such good friends in the beginning; we both felt invisible.” Casandra smiled sadly, thinking to her own feelings of isolation; Lydia had partially saved her from those feelings. Although her loneliness had manifested in other ways, she understood how comforting it must’ve been to find someone who shared that feeling, even if they happened to be a dead guy with green hair dressed in an obnoxious striped suit.
“So, even after I killed him,” Lydia added casually, “it only took him a few months to show up again. Came topside again for some bio-exorcism a few towns over, and jumped at the chance to bury the hatchet.” She smiled fondly. “I didn’t mind, either. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s my pain in the ass.”
“Did someone say ‘pain in the ass’?” Beetlejuice materialized once more, this time with a bag of popcorn and a ‘Go Lydia’ pennant. “So, did I miss the catfight?” he asked gleefully, waving the small flag eagerly. Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose and Cassandra stifled a laugh. Her life had truly taken a turn to the ridiculously absurd over the course of one afternoon.
“Get off her bed, weirdo,” Lydia scolded, “I was just catching up Cassie on everything, since someone decided to be a dick about me banishing them for scaring the daylights out of some very important clients—”
“Now, now, Lyds, let’s not point any fingers here,” the demon retorted, brushing the dust off of his ancient suit, “You wouldn’t want to embarrass me in front of our guest, would you?” Lydia stuck her tongue out at him, and Beetlejuice sneered, the two of them acting like annoyed siblings. Cassandra suppressed another giggle, not wanting to encourage any more bickering.
“Cass, this is Beej,” Lydia said, turning to her, “Or BJ. Don’t call him by his full name unless you want to banish or summon him. If you wanna get rid of his stupid ass, just say it three times in a row again. Really works when he’s being a prick.” She smirked while Beetlejuice still pouted. Cassandra was still studying him intently, fascinated with his entire being even after Lydia had explained his presence. As ghosts, Barbara and Adam were interesting to say the least, but Beetlejuice was something completely different.
Lydia gave an exasperated sigh, also feeling quite overwhelmed by the day’s events “Also, we were gonna maybe play a board game or watch a movie or something soon. You in?” Cassandra nodded, still trying to absorb all of the information that had just been thrown at her. She decided it was in her best interest to act as normal as possible now so she could bombard her roommate with even more questions after the weekend was over. Lydia then turned to Beetlejuice, who was oddly quiet, “You’re more than welcome to stick around too, Beej. If you behave yourself, that is.” He rolled his eyes, muttering something indistinct to himself.
“What was that?” she asked, her tone far more threatening. The faintest streak of white appeared in the ghoul’s hair, indicating that he was actually afraid of her.
“Nothing, oh best friend of mine,” he said dully.
Lydia smirked again, and glided towards the door, turning her attention to Cassandra, “Seeing as you’re the one who summoned him, it might be in your best interest to get to know our little demon friend a little better while I set up tonight’s activities, eh Cass?”
“Lyds, I don’t—”
“Hey, what do you mean by little—?”
--------
Thanks for reading! Like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed or have any comments/suggestions!
#Beetlejuice#Beetlejuice the musical#beej#beetlejuice musical#beetlejuice x oc#beetlejuice fanfiction#will blum#blumjuice#Alex Brightman#lydia deetz#adam maitland#barbara maitland#Kerry Butler#Rob McClure#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom#musical#musicals#musical theatre#writing#Tim Burton#Fanfiction series
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Wanda’s Vision
A Mysterious Package
As if losing her true love wasn’t cruel enough, Wanda Maximoff can’t even burry him. Instead, the chunks of Vision’s broken stone body are being studied in the Alchemy Department in the Ministry of Magic, as if he’s nothing more than a crumbled statue. Fighting back tears, she picks up her scarlet broom, and heads back to Hogwarts. Since helping to save the universe again, she’s been granted the chance to return and finish her schooling, But the Ravenclaw Commonroom feels empty without is Chimera Prefect.
Wanda should be in class, but instead she drifts up to her empty dorm. There, she finds a tall, tombstone-shaped package standing in front of her blue canopy bed, covered in brown paper. Tied to it is a simple, unsigned note: Enjoy!
Curiously, she takes off the wrapping, to find a tall mirror with an elegant golden frame. The curved top of the frame is engraved with the words: erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
Wanda’s eyes drift down to the glass. Instead of her reflection, she sees static, like on an old Muggle TV set. Then, the static clears, to a black-and-white sitcom. The Mirror of Erised broadcasts “WandaVision,” where she sees herself and Vision living an ideal life, in a setting reminiscent of the vintage Muggle sitcoms Wanda and Pietro used to watch with their parents.
The tears finally come. In her grief, Wanda slams her fist into the glass.
A normal witch or wizard could probably not damage the Mirror of Erised, but Wanda Maximoff is no ordinary witch.
Her grief turns to shock when her fist breaks through the glass, and a hurricane-like wind begins sucking her and everything around her into the mirror…
Breakfast
Next thing they know, Wanda and Vision are in their black-and-white Commonroom, getting ready for class. They don their robes, and get their chrome-covered wands and school bags. They head for the Great Hall for breakfast, accompanied by a laugh track. Once there, they have trouble finding the Ravenclaw table, due to the fact that all of the scarves, ties and tablecloths are in grayscale.
“Well, I don’t think it’s either of those,” Vision muses, gazing at two tables locked in a violent magical food fight. The Gryffindors and Slytherins are all Greasers; their black, leather, studded robes bearing large patches of lions or snakes depending on their “gang.”
The next table they look at is filled with beatniks, sharing poetry about peace and unity. “I think that’s Hufflepuff,” Wanda says, noting the badger in the middle of the table playing bongos.
The last table is full of nerds in bowties and horn-rimmed glasses. Figuring this is their stop, Wanda and vision have a seat and begin their breakfast. They’re almost immediately interrupted by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Agatha Harkness. Wanda is clearly her teacher’s pet, and Agatha says she can’t wait to see what Wanda is capable of on the test later today.
"Is my best student gonna Ace this exam, or is that a stupid question?" Professor Harkness gives an irritating "gossipy neighbor" sort of laugh. "Remember, we're doing Patronuses!" Agatha takes out her wand and says with a smile, "Expecto Señor Scratchy! ...Oh, bowtruckles and doxies...Scratchy sit!" Agatha excuses herself, to chase her silvery rabbit Patronus, which is now wreaking havoc across the table.
Wanda smiles and nods, secretly trying to remember this exam she hasn’t studied for.
To make matters worse, the school’s Head Girl and Boy, Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin, have decided to join Ravenclaw for breakfast. They ask Wanda and Vision where they’re from, when they began dating, and so forth, with the pair unable to answer.
“What year are you?” Teddy presses on, adjusting his cute wolf-themed sweater. “Are you Purebloods or Muggleborn? Did you transfer from another school?”
“Any mixed heritage?” Victoire adds.
Wanda and Vision are saved from having to answer when Teddy starts to choke on a werewolf hairball; Vision saves him, using his phasing powers. The frightening moment passes, and suddenly breakfast is over.
“Oh, look at that, it’s time for the game already!” Teddy declares. “Come on!”
Very confused, Wanda and Vision follow the crowd out of the Great Hall and outside, across the gray grass, to…
The Quidditch Pitch
As they near the Quidditch field, the roar of screaming girls makes it nearly impossible to hear each other speak. Wanda gets out her wand to attempt an ear-plug charm, and notices it looks different than before; instead of that slick chrome covering, her wand now is covered in psychedelic flowers.
When they find their seats, they notice that many of the girls have beehive hairdos, and many people’s cloaks have claps shaped like peace symbols and Yin-Yangs. Vision and Wanda move through the Hufflepuff box, where Teddy Lupin and his comrades have apparently traded their barrettes and scarves for beads and hippie hair. Next, they find a box full of nerds, that they hope is Ravenclaw; with everything still in grayscale, the only way to be sure is to look for an eagle crest somewhere. Vision and Wanda have a seat next to a friendly new girl with a beehive hair, introducing herself as “Geraldine.”
“To be honest I don’t know if I’m in the right box either,” Geraldine reassures Wanda.
“What House are you?” Wanda asks conversationally.
Geraldine’s face falls. “I…don’t know.”
The conversation is cut short when Madam Hootch, dressed like Ed Sullivan, announces the start of the game. The Gryffindor players all have moptops, and quip each other while during the game in thick Liverpool accents. The Slytherins are a bit rougher looking. Slytherin Seeker Albus Severus Potter comments about blowing up Moaning Myrtle’s toilet, and Scorpius Malfoy boasts about snorting his father’s ashes.
The Golden Snitch, for some reason, keeps flying past Wanda and Vision’s part of the stands. And something about the Snitch looks out of place. Wanda finally stops it in midair with her telekenesis, and summons it towards her for a better look. The Golden Snitch really is gold—it’s in color!—and there’s a red symbol on it: a sword, circled by two lions and a huge elegant "G."
“I think they need that!” Geraldine quickly snatches the Snitch from Wanda and expertly chucks it back into the field, as if pitching a baseball.
The Quidditch field is starting to look different. The Quidditch balls and hoops are morphing into colorful, psychedelic cartoons. As if trying to compete with the trippy animation, Al Potter takes out his wand and starts levitating furniture, toilets and animals from the castle to come flying into the crowd. This prompts the Gryffindors to make more awful puns at each other, while trying to retrieve the Golden Snitch from Ringo's nose.
“How is anyone getting through this sober?” Professor Harkness laments over the chaos.
Wanda excuses herself and makes for one of the restrooms in the Quidditch stadium. The toilets have all been blown up by Al Potter, but she doesn’t need to “go,” she just needs to think. In the restroom, she is confronted by queen bee Dominique Weasley, who seems to be implying that Wanda is guilty of something.
“I mean you no harm,” Wanda insists.
“I don’t believe you,” the young part-Veela replies, matching Wanda’s intense stare.
That’s when both girls are interrupted by a muffled voice, apparently coming from the mirror.
Superimposed over their reflections, Wanda can just barely make out the ghostly image of a young man, and hear his distant voice calling, “Wanda, who is doing this to you?”
The eerie message repeats, and Wanda’s anxiety rises, until the glass mirror suddenly shatters, startling her and Dominique. Dominique suffers a cut to her hand, getting some crimson blood on her Gryffindor scarf.
“Gosh,” Dominique says chipperly, as if their intense conversation never happened, “At least blood stains don’t show up as much against Gryffindor colors!”
The girls return to the bleachers, to find that the game has finished. It’s unclear who won, as both teams seem to be celebrating the game in their own way. The Gryffindors give a cute, uniformed bow, while the Slytherins enthusiastically smash their broom sticks on the ground.
By the time the crowd is leaving the stadium, everything is now in color. Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley have their long hippie hair flowing in bright mind green and shimmering Veela gold respectively. The flowers on Wanda’s wand are now bright shades of red and orange. But the biggest shock of all comes when she and Vision return to the Ravenclaw common room, and realize that Wanda is four months pregnant!
The moment is interrupted by a noise from outside the Commonroom. Peering into the hall, Wanda and Vision see a cloaked figure emerge from a secret passageway behind a gargoyle (shaped like a Blue Meanie). The figure turns around, and Wanda sees that sword symbol once again, on the back of his cloak.
“No,” she mutters, and with a flick of her hands, literally rewinds time.
“Congratulations!”
…says Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. “You’re having a healthy baby.”
Vision stammers, “But isn’t this happening a little…fast?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, only Muggles stigmatize teen parents. Us wizards still live like it’s the Middle Ages, remember.”
Wanda tries delicately, “The baby having some Phoenix or Chimera heritage wouldn’t be affecting anything, would it?”
“I don’t think so. But you can check the school library for more information if you like.”
The soon-to-be teen parents decide to do just that.
Wanda and Vision enter the library to find themselves now dressed like Scooby Doo characters under their school robes, which have the cut of droop-sleeved Disco gowns.
Geraldine strides in, sporting a fro, with her Gryffindor necktie tied around her head like a scarf. Teddy Lupin and Victoire sit nearby, sporting a mint-green afro and a silverly shag respectively. Lysander and Lorcan Scammander are putting up a sign on the library wall, protesting the pollution of the Forbidden Forest. From the open window, one can see that a new Quidditch game is already afoot; the Gyffindors and Slytherins, in House-colored disco suits, violently toss flying disco balls at each other, while talking like Nick Fury.
No one besides Wanda and Vision seems to notice anything amiss. That is, until Wanda suddenly goes into labor, in the middle of the “P” isle.
Vision runs to get Madame Pomfrey, while Geraldine delivers the baby. Vision returns with the nurse just too late to see his son’s birth. This is remedied a moment later when Wanda goes into labor again! They end up with two healthy baby boys. Wanda and Vision decide to go the Weasley route, and give them simple names: Tommy and Billy.
Geraldine helps Wanda turn the trunk at the end of her dorm bed into a cradle for the twins.
“I’m a twin,” Wanda remembers. “I had a brother, named Pietro.”
Geraldine then adds slowly, “He was killed by Ultron.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Wanda looks at her friend again, suddenly suspicious and angry. She notices suddenly that the patch on Geraldine’s robes does not depict the usual Gryffindor icon, but instead, that suspicious sword symbol. Ignoring Geraldine’s stammering pleas, Wanda sends the Gryffindor flying through the stone wall, out of the Ravenclaw commonroom.
Geraldine flies backwards down the hall, until she smashes through another stone wall.
She crashes through the wooden wall of the Quidditch pitch.
And finally, she crashes through a massive wall of glass, with a shattering sound that echoes eerily.
“Geraldine” lands on the wet grass. She pushes herself up, as Ministry wizards and witches gather around her. It is dusk, and they’re in the middle of an empty clearing in the woods. Not too far off, the Mirror of Erised magically repairs its own shattered glass.
Monica Rambeau sees the Mirror of Erised standing alone in the empty field, and it all starts coming back to her...
Here’s What Really Happened
...Monica Rambeau’s mother, Maria Rambeau, founded the Sword of Gryffindor: a division within the Ministry of Magic, tasked with threats by non-human magical beings. Monica, a recent graduate of Hogwarts, had just begun an apprenticeship under her mother, when she (Monica) was turned to ash by Thanos’s Dusting Curse. After she “Blipped” back, and learned her mother had died in the summer she’d been gone, Monica needed work to keep her mind off of her shock and grief.
Her new mission concerned Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which had seemingly vanished overnight—along with the lake, the Quidditch pitch, and even Hagrid’s hut. All that was left was the Mirror of Erised, standing alone in the empty field. And the Mirror seemed to be malfunctioning. Its gold frame was replaced with a chrome and neon 1950s juke-box aesthetic. It’s iconic message now glowed above the glass in the form of a cursive neon sign. All the Ministry workers strongly desired to see where Hogwarts had gone; but all anyone could see in the Mirror was static.
Jimmy Woo (a former Hufflepuff Prefect now with the Ministry) gave Monica a rundown of the situation. “The Ministry’s so desperate, they’re even bringing in a Muggle, to see if one of their ‘TV microwaves’ or something might be interfering with the Mirror’s magic.”
Dr. Darcy Lewis, one of the few Muggles allowed to not only know about the wizarding world, but work with it, finally arrived. Most of the Ministry folk scoffed at the Muggle. But after a quick examination, Darcy had an answer.
“Looks like someone or something has turned your Magic Mirror into an old TV set.”
The project’s supervisor, Director Blandonius Genericus Phucknugget, snorted. “Codswallop and hippogriff dung. Your Muggle technology doesn’t work in areas like this, where there’s high concentrations of magic!”
“Wrong,” Darcy said, drumming her fingers on the Mirror’s neon frame. “Electricity doen’t work around magic. But you guys make cars and motorcycles fly with magic all the time. You even use cameras, for Treebeard's sake! So this TV-mirror isn’t plugged into anything, but it’s still running, probably on magic. If someone can enchant me a pair of old rabbit-ear antennae, I can probably get this show broadcasting for ya. And if one of you magic dudes can conjure me up some coffee, that’d be cool too.”
Director Phucknugget begrudgingly adhered Darcy’s request. A retired Arthur Weasley was happy to donate some parts from his Muggle collections to the cause. Within the hour, everyone was watching what seemed to be an old Muggle sitcom play out in the glass… set at Hogwarts! Jimmy and Monica soon determined that, somehow, the castle and all of its inhabitants had become trapped inside the Mirror of Erised. Since Wanda Maximoff and Vision Banner-Stark were the stars, and Vision was supposed to be dead, it stood to reason that they had something to do with it.
Monica then made a bold, and arguably stupid, move. She blasted the glass with different powerful spells, until she managed to put a crack in it…and ended up getting sucked into the show.
While Jimmy, Darcy, and the others watched Monica join the main cast, the frame around the Mirror began to change. The jukebox aesthetic was soon replaced by a psychedelic pop art motif, resembling something you’d see on an old CD cover, or a “Yellow Submarine” poster. Monica, Jimmy and Darcy tried different ways to get in touch with Wanda. They tried sending an enchanted Golden Snitch into the Mirror, containing Mad-Eye Moody’s old eye, to survey the situation. Jimmy tried a mirror-enchanting spell, to send Wanda a message. But nothing seemed to work.
By midafternoon, the frame had changed again to a banded ‘70s border with rounded edges, it’s top lettering now spelled out like the opening credits of an “exploitation movie.” And the show was now in color. Soon after that, Monica Rambeau came crashing back through the glass, knocking Darcy, Jimmy and Phucknugget into the grass.
It has all come back to her now.
Lying on the grass in her Disco robes, Monica breaths, “It’s Wanda! It’s all Wanda!”
Care of Magical Creatures
The sky above the Quidditch Pitch is the color of Floo Powder, tuned to a dead fireplace. The frame around the Mirror of Erised is clunky robotic junk, smattered with flickering neon. The castle halls have become a glittery labyrinth, and echo with David Bowie music. Goblins from Gringotts are discussing business with Headmistress McGonnagall, demanding a baby as payment if they don't get their gold.
Billy and Tommy are old enough to start their first year at Hogwarts, even as their parents are still finishing up year Five. The boys adopt a cute three-headed Cerberus puppet (yes, puppet--The "Dark Crystal" kind) that they name Sparky. Everyone now has frizzy ‘80s hair, and wizard robes now have built-in shoulder pads. Professor Harkness continues to give Wanda top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where students practice wizard duels in 80s workout gear.
Wanda finally “breaks the fourth wall” again, albeit less literally this time. Excusing herself from her family, she goes to the restroom, and looks directly into the mirror, at the Ministry wizards outside. For a few moments, they talk as if there is only glass between them.
“Is this yours” Wanda says, tossing the Golden Snitch back through the glass.
Catching the Snitch, Monica begs Wanda to listen to reason. But it’s no use.
Meanwhile Vision, is getting suspicious. He manages to free Lysander Scammander from Wanda’s control. The hysterical first-year frets that he hasn’t received an owl from his parents in what seems like ages, and that having Wanda in his head all the time is painful.
But just as Vision confronts Wanda, they get a surprising visitor: Pietro Maximoff! …or is it? Something seems off, but Wanda wants to believe it’s true.
Defense Against the Dark Arts
For their Midterm Exam in Defense Against the Dark Arts, everyone suits up. Vision dresses like a Mexican wrestler, while Wanda dons a red leotard under a red cloak and tiara. Billy and Tommy are advancing in their magic classes with alarming speed. Pietro suspiciously looks, sounds and acts very little like the brother Wanda remembers. But how many other male part-Veelas can be out there?
Back in the real world, Monica, Jimmy and Darcy clash with Director Genericus Phucknugget. The three are eventually taken off of the project for not being big enough assholes, so they set out to break some rules. Darcy “hacks” into Phucknugget’s “files,” by which we mean, she swapped his Pensieve out with a chamber pot when he wasn’t looking. Around a camp fire in the Forbidden Forest, the trio examine the memories that their shady boss didn’t want them to see. Turns out, he doesn’t have anyone’s best interests in mind, bar his own quest power.
Monica wants to try re-entering the Mirror, but there’s another problem.
“You’ve gone through that class twice,” Darcy warns. “Your body is cursing with the magic of a Flaga.”
“How do you know about the Flagae?” Jimmy asks.
“Muggles can read books too you know.” Darcy produces a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scammander.
Flagae are spirits that live inside magic mirrors, often acting as familiars for witches like Snow white’s evil stepmother. Darcy theorizes Wanda and Vision’s “Mirror children,” Billy and Tommy, may in fact by Flagae. And Monica is turning into one too. If she makes a full transformation, she might never be able to leave the glass again.
But Monica stands her ground. “I won’t stop until I help Wanda.”
Back in the Mirror, Vision investigates the edges of Hogwarts' grounds. He finds both the Forbidden Forest and the train platform inaccessible, blocked by a wall of shimmering magic glass.
Outside, the Ministry wizards see Vision begin to emerge from the Mirror. He pushes painfully, with his hands pressed against the frame, but some force is holding him back. Vision himself begins to shatter, as if he’s made of glass. Darcy, who has tried sneaking back onto the project, yells at someone to help him, as a Ministry Auror holds her back.
Billy, a Legilimens like his mother, senses his father’s distress and alerts her. To save her husband, Wanda creates a powerful wind to pulling Vision back into the Mirror…and takes most of the Ministry witches and wizards with him.
Modern wizards
When the winds die down, nearly all of the Ministry wizards are now inside the Mirror, and have been recast as House Elves, Leprechauns, and decorative Cupids. Darcy is recast as a bespeckled House Elf in a blue bellhop’s uniform.
Wanda and Vision give interviews about their ongoing life problems, to no one in particular. Vision finds Darcy, and restores her memories and human body, though she keeps the silly suit. Darcy fills Vision in on his life before the Mirror. Yet still, he can’t remember any of it. They ponder the possibility of a Memory Charm, or the simple resurrection amnesia that often plagues newborn vampires.
Monica and Jimmy remain safe outside the Mirror of Erised, but Monica is now adamant that there’s no other way to reach Wanda and stop their evil boss.
This third push through the magic glass makes Monica feel like she's shattering. All around her are the voices of her dead mother, and her absent “Aunt Carol”—Monica’s “Erised.” The temptation to just let herself melt into the glass and give up on reality is strong. But Monica is stronger. Monica finally emerges into Erised-Hogwarts, a new being. Her eyes glowing a spectrum of colors, Monica is now like a person jacked into the Matrix; the laws of physics in the world of the Mirror no longer apply to her.
It was Agatha All Along!
It’s supper time, but Billy and Tommy still aren’t back from Defense Against the Dark Arts. Wanda heads to the classroom, to find Agatha, stroking the silvery fur of her apparently corporal Patronus.
“Where are my children?” Wanda demands.
But when she attempts magic, she fails.
“Highest marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but an F in Ancient Runes!” Agatha taunts. “Only the witch who casts the runes can use her magic in the area. Every first year should know that!”
Agatha then forces Wanda to join her in entering a Pensieve, filled with all of Wanda’s worst memories. Yes, Wanda is now inside a Pensieve, while inside the Mirror of Erised. Agatha wants to know what makes Wanda’s magic tick, so she can harness it for herself.
Wanda sees her entire life play out. She and Pietro are children, living in their magically-hidden hole-in-the-wall apartment in Sokovia. Their father tries to make a living by magically burning vintage Muggle sitcoms into wizarding photos and paintings, that will play out the episodes, which he sells to wizard and witches that are Muggle enthusiasts. Then their home is destroyed, and their parents are killed.
Wanda sees herself in the dungeons of Durmstrang, approaching the glowing cauldron, and listening to her instructors tell her how to enter the experiment. She dips into the glowing cauldron like a bathtub, with the Mind Stone shining from the bottom like a light in a jacuzzi, clutching her phoenix-feather wand. There's an explosion of light, as she and her wand are fused together. And the premonition she sees of herself, as one of the most powerful witches alive...
“There’s an entire Prophecy about you, in the Department of Ministries. Well, not anymore,” Agatha smirks, showing Wanda the ancient book she (Agatha) has stolen from the Ministry of Magic. "You're the Scarlet Witch!"
She sees everything, from the death of her brother to the death of her lover. Finally, she sees and remembers how she ended up inside the Mirror of Erised, accidently sucking the entire castle in and casting a memory charm on everyone, including herself. And how from her emotions and memories, she accidently created a Flaga, in the form of her dead lover, Vision.
Wanda now realizes what she must do. It will be agony for her; but she cannot continue to imprison and torment her peers, just to keep her fantasy in the Mirror of Erised alive. And Agatha must be stopped.
The Darkest of Magic
The two witches start to duke it out in the sky above Hogwarts Castle, in a wandless witch's duel. Both conjure their Patronuses, straight from their hands. Señor Scratchy goes "Watership Down" on Wanda's firefinch, which retaliates in Hitchcock fashion.
The corrupt Ministry wizard and his cronies make a bad situation worse, when they send their own twisted creation into the Mirror—the real body of Vision, now an unpainted white gargoyle, bent only on destroying its counterpart inside. But Erised-Vision knows that the best way to distract himself has always been philosophy, so he wins over his alter-ego with a lecture on the Ship of Theseus, some musings about the workings of Time Turners, and the parallels between Nargles and imaginary numbers.
Monica frees “Pietro” from the Imperius curse that Agatha has paced on him, and watches the Polyjuice Potion she forced him to drink wear off. Turns out, he’s just a Muggle named Ralph Boner.
Everything is going to chaos inside the Mirror of Erised (except for the two Visions, who are having a quiet discussion about the reliability of Divination, in midair in the Library). Wanda uses her recent lesson in Ancient Runes to incapacitate Agatha, and then dives into the older witch’s mind...
...Agatha is centuries old. Haling from the Salem Witch’s Institute, she was shunned by her Coven, and even her own mother, for “studying the Darkest of Magic.” Agatha then unleashed a Killing Curse on all of them. Once the heinous crime was done, Agatha’s Horcrux was made. She plucked the pendant off of her mother’s body, and pined it to her own cloak.
Agatha is brought back to the present, just in time to see Wanda’s firefinch devour Señor Scratchy. The scarlet magic shooting from Wanda’s hand briefly flashes bright green.
Goodbyes
Hogwarts has been restored. Everyone is free from the Mirror, save three people: Vision, Billy, and Tommy.
Agatha lies dead on the grass outside the Mirror of Erised—or at least, her human body does. Using her powerful Scarlet Magic, Wanda fuses the pendant Horcrux into the golden frame of the Mirror of Erised, trapping what’s left of Agatha. From now on, Agatha can only exist in the role of other people’s fantasies, when they look into the Mirror.
“No one will ever bother you here,” Wanda assures her enemy, through the glass.
Oblivious, the fraction left of Agatha’s soul smiles from behind the glass, in her 1950s getup. “Fabulous! See you in class, Sugar!”
Wanda apologizes to Monica, and all of her peers from Hogwarts, while Director Phucknugget is hauled off to Azkaban by the Dementors.
Headmistress McGonnagall assures Wanda that she is still welcome at Hogwarts, provided more precautions are taken with her powers. But Wanda chooses to leave the school. Before leaving the castle, Wanda pays her family one last visit. The Mirror of Erised stands in a large empty room. Separated by glass, Wanda tearfully bids goodbye to Vision, Billy and Tommy.
“Thank you for choosing me to be your mom,” she tells the boys, before they go to bed.
“Wanda,” Vision presses against the glass. “Darcy called me a ‘Flaga.’ Am I a ghost? Or just a fantasy?”
“You’re a spirit I created,” Wanda finally admits out loud. “You are my memories, and my pain. But most of all, you’re my love.”
For a moment they are able to kiss, as if the glass isn’t there. Then Wanda leaves the room, and doesn’t look back.
Epilogue
Monica is still mostly Human, but like Wanda, she is now a hybrid—in her case, part Flaga. And it turns out, there is a battle being fought in the Mirror Realm, and Monica can help.
Wanda, meanwhile, creates herself a cabin in the woods, where she studies that Prophecy book—out of body. She is interrupted by the voice of one of her sons, calling from every mirror in the house, “Mom…!”
AN: An AU of an AU! Bloody hell.
This was a nightmare, both to "draw" and write, even with most of the work "cut out" for me. But worth it.
Because life is short, the images in this picture were largely traced, or straight up pasted clipart.
#wandavision#wandavison spoilers#hogwarts au#mirror of erised#wanda maximoff#Vision#billy and tommy#monica rambeau#darcy lewis#ravenclaw#sword of gryffindor#order of the avengers#vintage#1950s#harry potter#crossover#mcu#avengers#Scarlet Witch#fan art#hannah barbera
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Of Fights and Phobias
Cherik Week- Day 5: Horror AU / Transformation (Morphing)
Okay, I agree openly that I cheated on this AU, because the more I tried to write something related to Horror, the more horrific everything got, so I ditched that effort and wrote this instead (I had a dragon!Erik idea for transformation, but that would have turned into a 5K word monstrosity)
P.S: Thank you @mnemo-ink @akasanata @ikeracity for your inputs on Horror AUs and prompts.
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Charles startles as the curtain billows into the room with a harsh swoosh.
It’s just the wind, he tells himself, trying not to imagine a skeletal hand slowly emerging from beneath the curtain’s hem.
It’s just the wind, he tells his racing heart.
As though it could protect him from everything that spells evil, Charles pulls the blanket further up his shoulders to form a cocoon around him and screws his eyes shut. He has spent the last hour being startled out of wits at the smallest of sounds- the creaking of the door, rustling of fabric and even the ticking of the clock, and he can’t spend the rest of the night jumping out of skin every time the clock ticks, half expecting a poltergeist to jump from underneath his bed like it had in that stupid film. The fact that his eidetic mind is replaying those scenes in his mind with crystal clear clarity isn’t helping either.
Stupid Raven and her stupid love for horror films.
Charles could go to Raven and sleep with her until dawn breaks and run back to his rooms after, but that would only prompt her into teasing him more for fearing something that doesn’t even exist. It’s just silly movies, Charles. She’d say. Everyone knows that’s just a white cloth on a stick.
He knows that, it's just that his mind has more… creative ideas.
Charles is ten years old; old enough to not be affected by the juvenile and silly fear of ghosts. Besides, it's his job as an elder brother to reassure Raven and comfort her when she’s scared, not the other way around. For a brief moment, Charles considers going to his mother, but then he already knows the outcome of it before the thought completes in his head.
That leaves Charles with only one option.
Throwing the quilt away, Charles hastily puts on his slippers and runs from his room as quietly as possible. He tiptoes down the grand stairs and around the sitting rooms towards the side doors, doing his best to ignore the long and eerie shadows the marble statues cast on the walls, the ghostly portraits of past Xaviers-- who look too close to coming to life, darting a hand out and pulling Charles into their world as he passes by-- and the creaking of the old hardwood beneath his feet.
Thankfully, the servant’s quarters are just behind the kitchens, and that fact alone distracts Charles from the rattling of the empty pots and pans hung on the wall.
‘Erik,’ he whispers softly against the door, knowing fully well that Erik sleeps on a bedroll on the floor close to the door while his parents sleep on a low cot further towards the window.
The corridor behind Charles is dark and ominous-- just like the corridor in the basement that was plagued with demons in the film-- and standing at the end of it, Charles feels trapped, as though the hungry demons would come flying in from the depths if he as much as took a breath.
Gulping, Charles taps his knuckles on the wood, and hisses out urgently, ‘Erik!’
If Erik’s too deep in sleep and doesn’t wake up, then Charles would either have to go to his room or sleep in front of the door at the end of a dark corridor; both of which aren’t favourable.
Charles knocks a little more frantically this time, one ear plastered to the door, hoping desperately that Erik opens it. After a few brief moments of panic-stricken waiting, Charles hears rustling from within and the sound of footsteps. He quickly steps away from the threshold as the door opens on its hinges.
‘Charles,’ Erik asks after blinking at him sleepily for a few seconds, ‘What are you doing here?’
Suddenly, Charles feels all too stupid, and the silly fear that some ghost or ghoul could come and get him evaporates at the sight of Erik. ‘I was just..’ He bites his lip trying to come up with another excuse as to why he woke Erik up in the middle of the night- something like he couldn’t sleep and wanted to check if Erik wanted to play… In the dead of the night.
‘You watched those stupid horror films with Raven, didn’t you?’ Erik asks finally, unimpressed.
Charles nods his head vigorously, and his fringes fall back into his eyes with the action.
‘Come in before Mama or Vati wakes up then,’ Erik asks as he retreats from the door.
Charles follows him inside quickly and closes the door shut behind him.
The room the Lehnsherrs live in is small and bare, but it’s cozy nonetheless. Less so than his monstrosity of a room upstairs. Erik’s bedroll is threadbare and his bedsheet is not even half as thick as his’, but Charles feels a warmth settling in his mind as he places his head on Erik’s pillow and tucks himself under Erik’s blanket.
‘Sleep, Charles,’ Erik says from where they’re sleeping facing each other on the pillow, and places a warm hand on his shoulder, ‘nothing can get you now.’
‘Good night, Erik,’ Charles says and closes his eyes. He doesn’t feel scared here. Not of ghosts or ghouls or poltergeists or monsters. Not when Erik’s there right beside him to make sure he’s safe.
*
~Two decades later~
‘You can come and sleep inside today,’ Charles says from the doorway of their bedroom, already dressed in his striped pajamas. He’s still not looking at Erik and his tone is a little too still stiff for Erik’s liking, but at least he’s talking to Erik, and that’s as good as a starting point as any.
Their fight had gotten a little ugly this time-- and that’s nuts because Erik doesn’t even remember what they’d fought over a week ago. It had ended up uglier, with Erik opting to sleep on the sofa and both of them choosing to ignore the other’s presence for the rest of the week.
‘Are you sure?’ Erik asks from where he’s already settled in with a book on the sofa.
Charles nods curtly, his jaw and lips pinched in an unhappy line. This isn’t like Charles. He isn’t the one to back down from a fight this easily. He isn’t the one to apologise first. Contrary to popular belief, Charles is stubborn as a mule.
But then Erik remembers Raven mentioning a movie night with Charles that day and it all clicks into place. Erik almost bursts out laughing but bites back in time. ‘Okay,’ he says instead, picking up his pillow and bedsheet from the sofa as Charles disappears into their bedroom.
Charles is sleeping with his back to Erik when Erik settles into his side of the bed, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders like a cocoon around him.
Erik smiles softly to himself. The thing is, Charles hates that he’s afraid of horror movies, and the human conception of evil in general. He’s a man of science; a man of reason, and it mortifies him beyond measure that something as baseless and inane as Hollywood’s half-baked horror flicks could scare him witless. Erik had tried explaining to him that there’s no rhythm or rhyme to phobia, that fear is what it is; that it just exists, but Charles was less inclined to look at it that way.
And that’s exactly why Erik doesn’t bring it up, doesn’t ask Charles whether Raven forced him to watch a horror film that evening-- Erik’ll bet a 100 bucks that Annabelle would be on their Latest Watched list if he switches on the TV now-- and whether he called Erik in because he was too scared to sleep alone. Erik already knows that.
So Erik darts his hand out across the feet or two that separates them and asks, ‘Do you want me to hold you?’
Charles doesn’t reply, but, after a few moments, scoots back on their bed until he settles comfortably against Erik’s front.
Erik drapes an arm around Charles’ middle and pulls him further into the embrace, nestling his nose into Charles’ hair and breathing the familiar scent in. ‘I’m sorry, Charles,’ he says. What for, Erik doesn’t know, but if an apology will bring his Charles back to him, then he’ll apologise, a hundred times over. Charles relaxes at the words and sighs heavily. He hums noncommittally and presses back into Erik’s embrace and squeezes Erik’s hand on his stomach with his own.
‘Sleep, I’m right here,’ Erik murmurs into Charles’ hair, thanking all the dim-witted Hollywood horror flicks for bringing Charles back into his arms. And if he plans to bribe Raven into showing Charles a horror film or two during their future fights, well, can you really blame him?
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#cherik#cherik fic#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#kid fic#Cherik! kid fic#cherik week- day 5: horror au#I cheated with this au#yes I did#come get me#jjcherik
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Broken Ectoplasm C16
DannyMay themed story don’t bully me over it being WAYYYY past Dannymay 2019 I’m trying my best
Ectoplasm | Broken | Glass | Theory | Community | Eavesdropping | Worldbuilding | Accident | History | Shape shift | Puppet | Ink | Hands | Anniversary | Finals | Or Read on FFN or AO3. |
Day 23: Scream
There was a ghost kid in the hospital waiting for them. No, no, Danny was in the hospital waiting for them. No, Danny was in danger of another, no, of a ghost in the hospital. Well, was he, actually? His condition was bad, of course, but he had always been...impressive.
Man, this line of thinking was going to take a lot of getting used to.
"We shouldn't have left, we shouldn't have left," Maddie was mumbling to herself. Jack's eyes glanced towards his wife. She was rummaging through a bag of supplies, gathering what she needed to shove into her jumpsuit pockets. First aid, Danny's "green bull", various weapons and trackers.
"Hard right," he warned, and Maddie didn't even glance up as she gripped onto the overhead handle as Jack took a sharp turn. "We had no choice. It'll be alright. He'll be okay."
Maddie visibly relaxed.
"You're right. He's done this before."
They both immediately tensed up again. He's done this before. Neither of them spoke again as they nearly crashed their way into the hospital parking lot. As expected, it was chaotic. A flurry of a parking lot crowded with cars being flooded with people as those who could escape were doing so.
Jack didn't bother to park, just rolling as quick as he could to the entrance before slamming on the brakes. He didn't even fully stop when Maddie was already out the door, not even bothering to close the door. Jack was hot on her heels with all of his equipment in record time. They both slid out of the way as a nurse came rushing out, wheeling a patient in a chair out with her. The nurse nodded at them.
"Floor five," she told them, not stopping for any conversation as she made her way into the parking lot. That was Danny's floor.
They went inside, and it was near chaos Of course, it was full of people rushing to exit the building, while other parts were going into lockdown. Right after the Overshadowing Epidemic, the Fentons had helped this very hospital with anti-ghost measures. Supplying the security staff with basic ghost weapons, installing basic anti-ghost security measures in the form of emergency shields placed strategically.
Of course, it was just too much energy to run a ghost shield 24/7, especially in such an energy-demanding building like a hospital. And it would be foolish to only have one big shield, and thus the Fentons had optioned for a series of shields to allow the hospital to go into lockdown for this very situation. A lockdown that she could already tell was being put into place, as there was already a glowing shield blocking the entrance into the ER, and the distinctive sound of shields humming as they came to life several were loudly activated in unison.
"Fifth floor's got several shields," Maddie wasted no time, rushing for the stairs. She was already up a flight by the time Jack reached them. "We can block them in and catch the ghost."
"We should cut off their exit," Jack replied, quickly getting out of breath as he trailed behind her.
She was at the top soon after, and she was staring down at her tracker, patiently waiting for him as she gathered their location.
"They're in the hallway next to Phantom's room," Maddie told him as he finally hit the top of the fifth step. He dreamt of the day that the elevator would be consistently reliable and safe to use. Jack studied his mental memory of the hospital map, as well as the shields. This was far from their first call to the hospital for ghosts, but regardless: They never forgot where their shields were.
"How many?" he asked.
"Two, same location," she said. She squinted at the screen. "They're not moving."
"We should sneak around and block off their exit, then make our move," Jack told her. Maddie glanced up at him, worriedly.
"What if he's hurt Danny?" she asked. Jack's heart sank. Why was it so hard for him to match Fenton and Phantom? "We need to protect him above all."
"You're right," she whispered. She clutched the tracker tighter before handing it to him. "Go save our son. I'm going to block their escape, I can get to the shields faster."
Jack swallowed hard as he pushed the tracker to her. It was one thing when they were hunting ghosts, and whether they escaped or not was just a matter of property damage. But Danny's life was on the line.
"You go, Danny's more important, and you're a better shot," he insisted. Maddie forced the tracker into his hands, and he accepted it. There wasn't a whole lot of time to argue, and they would debate it afterwards.
"Be quick," he told her, and she gave a brief nod before they split up.
It wasn't until he made the first turn that he noticed how...unusually quiet it was for a ghost attack. Ghost fights were horribly messy and loud, as they used everything around them as a weapon and regularly did thousands upon thousands of dollars worth of property damage.
But he didn't hear anything even remotely close to a heavy object being thrown against the wall, or even feel the floor rumble as something was slammed into the floor. He could hear a few rushed scrambles, obviously doctors and patients going for cover. Every door he passed was closed, and the window blocked. It was eerie.
He tried to focus on tracking the ghosts, getting closer and closer with every hurried fast step. He didn't want to run. Jack wasn't exactly...stealthy, and despite intense anxiety about what he'd find, he still needed that surprise advantage.
Jack turned the corner, ready to face the horror that awaited him, only to instantly realize that nope. He was absolutely not ready.
Danny was tied to a gurney that was rocking and shifting from how much he was squirming and struggling to escape, the metal of the gurney being the background noise to muffled screaming. The bonds weren't anything from the hospital, something that looked ghostly and glowing. A familiar robot ghost was grabbing Danny's face, clutching it tightly as to hold him still. In his free hand, he held a large hunting knife and was...cutting.
The mechanical ghost was saying something in a low tone, a threatening one, but Jack couldn't make out what was being said. Not over...all the muffled screams. He was sure he didn't want to know. The way the ghost looked at the helpless teen scared him. It reminded Jack too much of himself. Of his molecule by molecule speech, of how often they talked of dissecting Phantom during dinner...right in front of Danny.
"Freeze, spook!" Jack ordered, and he made his presence known. He jumped over an overturned empty gurney, in the process nearly tripping.
The ghost snapped his head to Jack, glaring at him. Jack returned with a dirty look. With a quick fling of his wrist, the ghost threw his knife at Jack. He tried to dodge as it came for him, but it still hit his arm. Immediately he could feel blood gushing from a cut, and he instinctively slapped a hand over it. He held up his gun, putting his finger on the trigger to blast this menace to hell and back-
Only to hesitate. Oh fuck. This ghost had Danny. That was Danny on the gurney, not just Phantom. Jack swallowed nervously as he tried to quickly scan for his wife. No use. No sign of her. He couldn't take the shot. Not with Danny being so close and his terrible aim, nor with this ghost being within hurting distance of his son.
Skulker did not hesitate. He held his fist up, and netting fired off at him. Jack shifted, barely managing to miss. Despite shaky hands, Jack shot at the ghost in return. The other dodged with lightning speed, hitting the edge of the gurney. Jack's stomach dropped, watching it spin in a half-circle before toppling over. He really, really had to work on his aim sometime.
Skulker gave a chuckle.
"Hunter versus hunter," he lightly mused. "Of course though, it won't be much of a fig-" Skulker was cut off by a hard punch to the back of the skull that pushed him forward a bit. Jack glanced at the gurney, seeing one of the straps broken.
Skulker was already turned around and punched Danny in the stomach, sending the teen backwards. Jack winced hard, put forced himself to aim his weapon. He watched nervously as the fight truly began. He never had to worry about who to hit. Ghosts were ghosts, and the weapons didn't hurt humans, and even if they did, people normally had scattered long ago.
Jack watched a flurry of fists and kicks occasionally blinded by ghost rays flashing. He decided to take his chance, and he fired a shot. He hit the other ghost, forcing the fight to give each other space.
The other ghost put his fists up in front of him, and the metal on his arms and shoulders shifted to expose multiple rockets, all targeted at him. Danny paled, and he turned to seemingly fly behind cover.
But one of the shields had, at some point, been activated. Danny had froze, turning back to face them. Jack hurriedly fired off several shots and just relying on pure luck and a prayer that he wouldn't hit Danny. None of them hit Danny, thankfully, and a few even hit the intended target. Only Danny…
That flash of bright light he saw earlier appeared at his son's waist, and a flash later, he saw the familiar sight of his son hurriedly jumping backwards through the shield just as all the rockets were fired.
The rockets hit the shield in a series of bright explosions. When the smoke cleared, Danny was just silent, staring with wide eyes as he panted heavily, his chest heaving. He was in the shirt and jeans Jack saw him go off to school in just the day before. The injuries had transferred over, resulting in noticeable bruising, deep cuts and more visible of all, red blood that was oozing through his shirt. The sound of feet quietly hurrying towards them snapped Jack out of it, and apparently Danny too. Danny got back to his feet, making a rush back towards the shield, body slamming the ghost and sending him back. Scraps of the metal suit began to fall onto the ground with every hit.
Jack shuffled out of the way. A flash later, and Danny was once again Phantom, just in time for Maddie to turn the corner.
"Jack, the thermos!" she immediately shouted to him. She already had her weapon up, and she blasted at the ghost too.
Jack fumbled in his pockets for the container he was responsible for, quickly finding it attached to his hip. He opened it, and he activated it. The beam of light came out soon after, engulfing Skulker and soon, he was gone. Leaving just the family together, breathing heavily.
"Oh, Danny, are you okay?" Maddie wasted no time pulling Danny to her in a tight hug. Danny's head rested against his mom, exhaling hard with a disturbing bubbly tone to it. He leaned into her a bit more, forcing Maddie to shift so that she could pick him up. She pecked his forehead, but her expression soon fell into concern upon seeing him.
"Jack, get a gurney please," she told him. Jack picked up the gurney Danny was on earlier, turning it back onto its wheels and pushing it towards her.
He held it still as Maddie put Danny back onto it, the teenager wheezing hard. As soon as he was resting on it, Maddie had had gauze from the first aid section of her belt out, pressing it against oozing green ectoplasm that overflowed from Danny's neck. A deep, intense slash across his throat and a jagged cut that went down to the collarbone before it had stopped, a disturbing parallel to the clean slice of the previous...attempt.
"Jack," Maddie's voice snapped him out of it. "Do a quick sweep, make sure there's no other ghosts. I'll alert the staff in a moment."
"R-right." Jack stared for a moment as Maddie gently and expertly began to clean up Danny's neck. He could hear her softly speaking comforting phrases to him, interrupted by the deep wheezing coming from Danny.
He forced himself to turn away and look back down at the ghost tracker in his hands. Nothing, and he tapped it and held it up to make sure. Still nothing, and he walked around his family, staring. Still no sign of ghosts. Well, aside from the one obviously under their care.
"I don't see anything," Jack reported. He took a few steps down the hallway towards Danny's room. The door had been torn off the hinges, and the hospital room was a mess. The bed was flipped, and there was ectoplasm on the floor, some splattered on the walls. The IV stand was broken in half, and the wall itself was exposing the warm air outside, rubble littering the inside of the room.
Somehow seeing it...seeing the actual physical change from Fenton to Phantom...made it feel even more intensely real. He had suspected ever since he found out that the light was how he? Changed? But to suspect it and to see it was different. It was the very last solid confirmation of what he had already found out, and it was a bit unnerving.
He took a few steps forward to look out of the view. Danny had a fairly average view of the city, though the window's curtain was drawn to prevent anybody from potentially being able to see him, even though he was on the fifth floor. Jack could see groups of people huddled worriedly in the parking lot, as well as cop cars that had pulled up onto the scene. He saw a pure white car pull in too, no flashing lights, but the duo who exited wore white suits, and his heart sank. Least the ghost was contained, but the GIW was a much bigger concern.
Jack jerked his head down as his tracker lightly beeped. A ghost had entered their range. He watched the dot enter the tracking radius and stop. It remained there for a moment before completely disappearing off the radar. Huh. He could only assume it was a ghost passing by, but that didn't quite feel right. Most ghosts didn't seem to just hang out or pass by anywhere.
"We got company," Jack called out. He watched the police begin to handle the crowd as several GIW agents began to enter the building.
He returned to the hallway, seeing that a nurse had come out and was finalizing putting a white sheet over Phantom's form to avoid the publicity.
"We're moving him to Room 545," Maddie told him, and Jack gave a light nod as he scurried along after the pair to the room.
"Is anybody hurt?" Jack asked the nurse. She shrugged.
"We don't know for sure yet," she replied.
They quickly reached the room, and the nurse opened it for the Fentons to help her roll him in. The nurse stared intensely at the two, keeping the door open.
"I'm really sorry to do this to you," she began, and Jack already knew exactly what she was going to say.
"We're staying," he insisted.
"We're the only ones who know how to deal with a patient like him!" Maddie added.
"You don't have to leave, but I'm afraid I can't leave you alone in the room with him," the nurse explained. It finally clicked that she was staring at the weapons strapped to them, as well as the tracker tucked under Jack's arm and the ectoplasm-covered gauze Maddie was holding in her hand for now. The couple said nothing, giving each other a light glance. The nurse sighed lightly. "Please don't make this difficult. You just have to wait outside until the doctor gets here."
Jack noticed Maddie's lower lip quiver slightly in worry. Neither wanted to leave him. But it would be too weird or suspicious to fight it. Jack gave a nod, and he slowly sulked out of the room. Maddie stayed standing where she was for a moment, staring back at the nurse before reluctantly following her husband.
The nurse shut the door behind them, and they could hear the click of the nurse locking it as she was left alone to care for Phantom.
"Did you see that cut?" Maddie immediately brought up. Jack just gave a half-nod. "It's awful. The ghost wanted to really kill him." Jack rubbed the back of his neck.
"This ghost wants to skin him," he reminded her. Maddie's face scrunched up in disgust. "I wish we knew why."
"I do too," she sighed, and she paused. "Do you hear that?"
Jack glanced around, keeping his ears on high alert. Indeed, he could hear a faint, angry and familiar voice as it came closer and closer. He already knew it was Vlad before the billionaire turned the corner, hot on the heels of Ohmer and Dr. Carrington, the lawyer holding files to her chest as the doctor was wheeling a medical cart with various supplies resting on it next to her. The pair were walking towards them, Vlad nearly yelling in their ears as Vlad's own lawyer duo was keeping pace behind him, both looking fairly neutral about the situation.
"...and I will sue this hospital if you do not let me into this room, do you not understand? I have rights, and this is my child. I entrust my only child to this dump of a hospital, and you don't even have the proper anti-ghost measures to keep him safe? I demand you transfer him to my hospital, where he can actually get halfway decent medical care rather than you hacks."
"Mr. Masters, until we get that test back, we cannot assume you are the legal guardian, we've been through this." Ohmer sounded tired. Jack and Maddie scooted off to the side as she got to the room, and she knocked. "It's Ohmer and Dr. Carrington." The nurse opened the door, and Vlad tried to go inside, only to be blocked by Ohmer putting her arm out in front of him. "I will call security if you do not comply with the hospital rules."
Dr. Carrington was able to slip past them and into the room with her cart, shutting it behind her. The familiar lock clicked, and soon as it happened, Ohmer pressed her back to the door.
"I will have your job and make it so that you cannot work anywhere within the state of Illinois again!" Vlad threatened. "You and that idiot doctor and every single damn employee of this hospital, from the chief of medicine to the cleaning staff."
"Mr. Masters, you will not talk about my wife like that, and Mr. Phantom is undergoing treatment right now," Ohmer's tone was getting more and more snappy. Jack and Maddie silently watched. "He is not taking visitors of any kind at this time. I cannot legally let you take him home until he is discharged, and not without you proving your parental status."
Vlad's face was red with anger, and he began to explode into another ramble that Jack could only barely make sense of between all the long, legal jargon he used. Every time Ohmer tried to speak up to calm him down, he would cut her off with a thinly veiled insult that followed up with a threat to her job. After a minute, she just stared at him as he just continued on and on with his verbal tirade.
Why was Vlad so focused on having Danny? It was odd, and it was incredibly concerning. What did Vlad want with Phantom? Especially using the claim that he was Phantom's father? It was becoming creepier and creepier.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed two people hurrying down the hallway towards them, both in matching attire.
"By order of the Guys in White, we are placing Phantom under arrest, now, and are bringing him in for questioning," Agent K growled angrily, pulling his badge out as he walked quickly towards them. Agent G was hot on his heels, fumbling but also producing his badge.
Ohmer closed her eyes tiredly, rubbing them with the palms of her hands. The Fenton adults felt bad for her. This poor woman needed a raise.
#dannymay19#my dannymay19#broken ectoplasm#my phics#hello from the abyss i did not forget about this
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The Corpse Bride
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13672392/3/The-Corpse-Bride
“Big blue eyes, captivating, enticing, yet strange..”
this chapter is dedicated to @unvalley
Chapter 3: His Mother’s Ring
Gray was steaming with anger, “I can’t believe his nerve. Why can’t he ask me what I want?!”
He kicked the ground watching the stones roll over and the leaves rustle. Shoving his hands down into his pockets he continued into the forest. He tried to clear his head but it was inevitable that when he went back he was going to meet a potentially worse fate. It had finally dawned on him, how he was supposed to live his own life when he was just playing along with his father’s wishes? Gray wasn’t looking for a wife, he just wanted her to come along when it was supposed to happen. What he really wanted to pursue was his immense talent in magic, like his mother. When Ur tried to show his father Gray’s skills, he waved it off regardless of her opinion.
His fit of rage had him distracted until he noticed something about his surroundings. With nothing but the sound of the rain in his ears he looked through the trees. There was a sensation that someone was watching him, and it was completely undeniable. His shoulders tensed and he tried to look through the trees and the rain. There was nothing to catch the rain above so it was hard to make out exactly what he was seeing, but it looked like a dark shadow floating above the ground only a few feet away. It took him by surprise when it’s red eyes glowed in the coming darkness that he jumped back. When his foot landed, it crunched something instantly.
He looked down to his foot and saw a bone cracked in half that looked too large to be that of an animal. Taking his foot off and rotating to his left he saw where the bone had originated and thought for a moment that he was dreaming. Only inches away sticking out of the ground was a human skeleton with many of the bones cracked and eroding away. Gray gasped in horror and stepped back quickly, almost losing his balance.
“No way..that can’t be..” He said in disbelief. Intertwined with the sound of the rain were the cawing of crows that landed on the thicker branches of the bare trees. Their black eyes bore down into him as lightning flashed overhead. Gray shook his head vigorously, still convinced he could be dreaming, but when he looked back down to check if the skeleton was still there more had appeared.
“Gah!” He shouted with his whole body now on high alert for escaping. Being amongst the dead was not a good omen, it was one of the number one rules amongst magic users. Do not tamper with the dead. Chills ran down his spine from the rain drenching his suit and the temperature dropping. He never felt bothered by the cold, but this was different from cold.
He spun around trying to remember which way he had entered the forest, yet received no sign of where it was. All he could think of is trying to get out before he ended up like one of the skeletons in the ground. Then out of nowhere he felt a pressure on his shoulder that felt like someone had their hand there, however from his peripheral vision he saw no such thing. An eerie laugh could be heard resonating through the forest, definitely from a woman. His heart was beating loudly in his ears and his throat felt so dry. The only thing he could think of was breaking into a sprint.
He hoped that the forest would break and he could get the hell out. Of course he didn’t want to be around his parents, but he preferred them to skeletons and shadows. The rain seemed to let up slightly and Gray heaved out another breath from how hard he was running. The suit was clinging to his body making it even harder to move in that he needed to take a breather before continuing. He leaned against a tree trunk and turned around to make sure he wasn’t being followed.
Then it appeared again, the butterfly from the entrance. It floated around him leaving a trail of frost in its wake giving him the instant fact that it had to be his mother. He lifted his finger out watching its wings flap through the air towards him. The butterfly landed on him, twitching its antenna slightly when it perched comfortably.
Gray whispered to it as he panted, “C’mon mom, help me out a little, just here. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll get me out of this place.” He always believed that his mother was listening and watching for when he needed help.
Just as he was going to turn around again to check he saw something curious on the forest floor. The butterfly flew off his finger in that moment and dipped down towards the object before it fluttered away. As he bent down to get a closer look he noticed it was a ring. It had a brilliant blue gemstone and a silver band that looked very familiar. It was gorgeous and his curiosity got the better of him when he realized it looked similar to his mother’s wedding ring. Gray picked up the ring and held it up to see it better. The rain washed off any dirt that was on it, but it was in perfect condition, like time hadn’t touched it. All fear left his mind from the notion that something was connected to his mom.
Suddenly the gem on the ring began to glow and shine beams of blue light through the trees and rain. Gray cried out and dropped the ring while trying to cover his eyes from the blinding light. As he backed away he tripped over a tree root and fell backwards into the dirt. He groaned in the mudd shaking his head from the residual light that had bothered his eyes. Oddly enough the rain subsided as if someone turned it off and the clouds lifted to reveal the full moon overhead. The feeling that someone was watching him had left as well and it was replaced with a gentle presence. Gray lay there gazing up at the moon when he heard a soft sound and pressure over his heart. As he sat up further, there was a woman slowly lifting her head off his chest with groggy eyes.
She held her head for a moment, as if she was in pain and then raised her head slowly to see Gray and her eyes grew wide instantly. She took in a small gasp and looked around as Gray stared at her gazing downwards to her hands on his chest and her body placed between his legs. She appeared strange, her skin was slightly grey in color and her hair was a delicate periwinkle shade with deep blue eyes to match. She was in a white dress as well that looked a bit tattered at the end but seemed to resemble a night gown.
When she looked back to him and their eyes connected, he felt a blush on his cheeks. Not only could it have been from her chest touching his and the pressure of her body on him, but she was beautiful despite her strange appearance. She was probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he couldn’t pin why he felt so breathless. Her eyes were so big and curious as she looked at him yet also bashful as if she didn’t know what to say. He was frozen in his place only holding up his body from his elbows.
“Who are you..? Where did you come from?” He asked finally.
“Juvia is...” She glanced down shyly, “you are.. Juvia’s fiancee.” She picked up her ghostly pale hand to show him the blue gemmed ring on her finger. He was certain it was his mother’s, but he had absolutely not a clue what it was doing on her.
“Fiancée?! What? Wait, I don’t even know you?” Gray exclaimed in fear noticing her inch closer. She stopped abruptly, “But our souls connected, so now we are to be connected through marriage as well.”
“But I don’t-!“
“Oh! Your ring fell off!” She said and suddenly she reached behind him to pick up his ring in her fingertips. He watched her take his hand with a sweet smile, not even knowing he had dropped the ring. Gray didn’t stop her as she slid the ring on his finger and an ethereal blue glow radiated around both their rings.
“With this ring, Juvia makes you hers..” she said in a soft tone. At first it sounded like she was joking and he was just stunned in place.
Suddenly the glowing got brighter and then stopped all together. The silver band felt like it was glued to his finger and before the panic settled in he tried to pull it off. No luck, it really was stuck on him. Gray thought he was losing his mind. He thought he was dreaming, like his father caught up to him and knocked him over the head. That’s what he was seeing, she wasn’t really there, neither were those skeletons earlier. She couldn’t be. It just had to be some kind of dream. He tried to keep himself calm, if she really was there it had to be the work of magic so magic could make it right again.
“Oh..” she said breaking him from his thoughts. She was gazing down at him thoughtfully, “Juvia spent so long in the dark.. that Juvia forgot how beautiful the moonlight is.”
The soft light on his face captured all his features, including a small scar above his brow. His dark eyes reflected the glow of the moon and doing so captured her heart entirely. She felt like all that time she had missed him so much.
“In the dark..? Hold on just wait one second. What are you talking about?! Who are you? And why is this stuck on me?!” He persisted in frustration.
She laughed and his heart skipped a beat, “Juvia told you already, silly. Oh! But what should she call you?”
“G-Gray.. just Gray is fine.” He said bashfully looking away even though she didn’t answer his other questions.
“Well, of course. ” She gushed in a dreamy voice. She noticed that he couldn’t get up because of her, “Oof, sorry, couldn’t help myself..”
As she sat up and she rested her hands on her knees and watched him get up onto his feet and brush off his now muddy suit.
“Gray-sama, you already look dressed for a wedding! So you did come for Juvia after all!” She cheered holding her face. “How soon can we get married?”
He tried his hardest not to groan while he wiped his face in exasperation. It seemed like the topic of marriage just continued to follow him everywhere and his day just got even harder. In his foul mood he would've been faster to show attitude, but he already knew he would feel bad if he snapped at her. The only thing truly protecting her was her connection to his mother. With a sigh Gray ruffled his damp hair back into its normal style, “Keep dreaming, come on get up.” He said holding his hand out to her, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”
Her eyes twinkled at him as she took his hand and he helped lift her up from the ground. She stumbled forward like a fawn however, and he caught her against his chest making him blush.
“Juvia’s sorry, Gray-sama. My legs, they hurt a little..” She said with her eyes lulling slightly. Leaning her head into his chest Juvia was instantly calmed by his warmth and scent alone.
“Juvia?” He asked as she tried to push herself up. He heard her wince softly and before he could take another breath he was catching her in his arms. Her body was limp and she was excessively cold, in a way he had never felt before.
“Juvia!” Gray shouted, “Damnit, she fainted..!” Now he had an entirely other problem on his hands as he lifted her up in his arms like a bride. It was then he realized she didn’t appear to be breathing. Gray swallowed hard fearing there was much more to this than meets the eye. The entrance of the forest was suddenly visible again and the trail of the butterfly was seen leaving the trees.
***
After Gray went through the painful stealth mission of getting Juvia into his estate without anyone seeing him, he laid her in his bed. She looked so peaceful, like she was dreaming. He moved the blanket up over her and paused for a moment noticing the ring on her finger looked different from before. The gemstone no longer shimmered like it did when he first picked it up, it was still pretty nonetheless but it lacked the brilliance he remembered.
A knock on the door startled him, “Is that you young master?” the voice of a servant said.
“U-Uh, yes it’s me. I’m just about to change!” He yelled over his shoulder running towards the door before it could open. He cracked it slightly and smiled awkwardly at the servant.
“I’ll let your father know you’ve arrived safely once he returns, is there anything I can do for you?” The servant asked looking rather skeptically at Gray. He had to have noticed that he was full of mud and soaked.
He swallowed hard, “Just make sure no one comes in here for the moment. I need to be alone. That’s all.”
The servant nodded, “Whatever you wish.”
Gray closed the door as the servant walked away and sighed in relief. Leaning up against the door he checked on Juvia again to see her curled up on the bed still fast asleep.
He knew he needed to consult his mother’s journals and some books she kept that might help him understand what Juvia was before she woke up. They were up in the attic where many of his mother’s possessions were stored. As he left his room closing the door very carefully he was greeted by the person he wanted to see the least at the moment.
“Going somewhere, Gray?” they asked with a smirk in his tone. Gray sighed heavily and turned around to see his step brother, Lyon Vastia.
“None of your business. I’m in the middle of something that I have to fix.” Gray said pointedly and noticed a pink haired girl next to Lyon who stood innocently by.
“Oh come now Gray. I bring my fiancée here for you to meet and you can’t spare a second? This is Meredy, and this is the Gray I’ve told you about.” Lyon said.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Lyon always has a lot to say about you.” Meredy giggled.
“Whatever he says isn't true. Sorry, I’m just caught up at the moment. Nice to meet you but I really have to go.” Gray responded curtly.
He pushed past both of them and headed up the stairs to the third floor of the house. It was rarely visited by anyone unless they were adding to it so Gray would be able to privately search.
Lyon and Meredy watched as he rushed off and shrugged to each other, “Gray usually likes to get himself mixed up in impossible situations.”
As they were about to pass his door they heard a soft yawn and the pair looked at each other curiously.
***
#gruvia#gray fullbuster#juvia lockser#gray x juvia#fanfiction#anime#anime otp#corpse bride#azuchifairy#fairy tail
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End of the World
Title: End of the World
Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2392
Square Filled: Nightmare
Summary: It’s “The End” as God nicely put it… and it seems like it really is the end… for everyone.
Warnings: Angst, Explicit Language, Major Character Death, TW: Suicide, Mentions of Death, Blood, and again, a lot of Angst. This whole thing is just angst. Maybe fluff if you squint?
Written for @spndeanbingo
A/N: I realized that I didn’t upload my fic for my “nightmare” square, and when I looked in my WIPs, I couldn’t find it… why? Because it was in a completely different folder... *facepalm* Anyways, I found it and so… here it is. I hope you like it and please reblog and leave some feedback! Thank you and Happy Reading! xx
Things have been dark lately. Sam has shut himself in, not coming out of his room unless he really has to, Dean had fallen in this terrifying headspace where he would say such nasty things with intent to hurt, or break out into violent tantrums, which usually ended looking like a hurricane had hit. Castiel was gone, and you… you had become jumpy, paranoid, always thinking something was going to show up and get you. It was the end of the world after all, the most terrifying thing right now was surviving, but someone had to try and save the world.
With a tray of food in your hands, you cautiously walked down the hall towards Sam’s room. He hadn’t eaten all day, nor had you seen him exit his bedroom. You were worried. “Sam?” you called out, pressing your ear against his door. You heard no rustling of what so ever. “Sam?” you called again, figuring he had fallen asleep.
Letting out a deep sigh, you balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door to Sam’s room. He always left it unlock in case someone needed him, but no one really tried to disturb him other than you, which he didn’t seem to mind.
The room was dark, and still balancing the tray in one hand, you used the other to feel against the wall in search for the light switch. Victory, you flipped it on, the room coming into view. A sharp gasp left your lips as the tray you’ve been holding clamored on the concrete flooring. Your hands came to your lips at the horrifying sight.
Blood stained the sheets and pooled on the floor. Both of Sam’s arms were slit from his wrist up to the juncture where his arms bent. His skin was ghostly white, and you could just feel the end of life that filled the room. Sam was dead. Sam had given up… Winchesters don’t give up. That’s what he told you when all of this began, but there he lay… a hypocrite to his own words. This couldn’t be right.
Desperately needing to get out, you rushed down the hall to get Dean. You hoped that maybe he could do something. As you turned into the hallway where his bedroom resided, you noticed the door wide open. Rushing in, the only light pouring in being from the hallway, you halted in your stride. Dean was just standing there in the middle of his room, and the whole thing let out an eerie vibe, one that made you uncomfortable and a little anxious.
“D-Dean?” you stuttered in fright, not knowing what to expect.
When he moved, you flinched. Deans eyes were covered by shadows and his body was ridged. “What?” He snapped, the word coming out as a growl.
“S-Sam… h-he—”
“Get on with it!” He shouted, green eyes suddenly piercing at you with something akin to wild fire, like the flames of Maleficent. Goosebumps erupted around your body in complete and utter fear. “What? Stop stuttering and fucking say what you’re trying to say!” Spit flew from his lips and you felt your blood run cold.
“Sam’s dead…” you finally managed to say softly without stuttering.
“That’s what you came here to bother me for? Sam’s fucking dead? I don’t give a flying fuck if he’s dead. Why can’t you be dead too? You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?” Dean growled, stalking towards you. “Ever since this whole end of the world bullshit started, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my hide. A constant itching slowly driving me in-fucking-sane!”
“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered, taking a step back, only to collide into the wall.
“Sorry? You think saying you’re sorry is going to make any difference? Castiel is gone! Sam is dead! And all I’m stuck with is you! A pathetic little twig that can’t do anything but cause trouble for the rest of us! So fuck off!”
Your legs gave out and suddenly, a flutter of wings consumed the room and everything went black. When you awoke, you were in a pristine white room, brightly lit with white lights. You’ve seen this place before. You’ve been here before… Heaven?
“Hello Y/N,” a deep familiar rumbling voice was heard behind you. Twirling around at top speed, you saw Castiel standing at the corner. “Are you okay?”
“Cass!” you shouted, jumping out of a bed and running towards him, body crashing into his as you wound your arms around his neck. “We thought you were dead!” you sobbed.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy up here in heaven. Everything is in turmoil, and Michael he… I’m afraid he isn’t strong enough to contain his father in the cage. It’s only a matter of time until God is free. Amara won’t help us, and without her by our side, all the angels, myself included, will not be able to keep the door shut,” he revealed, unraveling your hands from his body and keeping you at arms length.
Castiel’s reasoning for his disappearance had been answered, but it wasn’t what you were expecting. The end of the world was happening on earth with the passage to Purgatory ajar, and with Rowena’s indefinite death, leaving hell’s gates wide open. There didn’t seem to be a win in sight. Heaven was fighting a losing battle, humans were dying left and right on earth, demons, monsters, and human were at an all out war, and any sort of hope you tried to convince yourself of was now nothing but a useless dream.
Everyone that made this far was going to eventually meet their early grave. It was inevitable.
“So it’s over…” your voice cracked. “It’s all over. The angels can’t help us, Amara won’t help us, Sam is dead, Dean has gone crazy, and we’re all just going to die…”
Your legs gave out again, Castiel catching you in time before you actually hit the ground. In a blink, you were back on the bed. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I have to go. They need me at the cage.”
Before you could say anything, he was gone, and you were alone. At that moment, you felt so entirely alone. There were no words to describe how lonely you felt. It was cold, numbing, frightening, frustrating, just overall overwhelming. You didn’t know what to think, how to feel, or how to react to anything. You were lost.
After what felt like hours had passed, you decided to wonder around. A door suddenly appeared in front of you and with little hesitation, you opened it and walked through the threshold. You entered what seemed to be the living room of a two story house, one you’ve never seen before. You could hear voices coming from the next room and followed the noise.
Rounding a corner, you peaked in to see Sam. Your eyes widened, wanting to make yourself known, but you held yourself back when you noticed that he wasn’t alone. At the dining table, waiting for Sam to join them, was his parents, Jessica, Dean, and you. You were coddled up in Dean’s arms, Mary holding John’s hand above the table, and Jessica had leaped from her seat to throw her arms around Sam.
This had to be Sam’s heaven.
You took a step back, only to find yourself hitting something… or rather, someone.
“What are you doing here?” A tone filled with danger hit your eardrums. “You shouldn’t be here,” it grumbled again.
Slowly turning, you saw Adam standing in front of you… no… it was Michael – the glowing blue eyes easily identifiable. He looked exhausted, tattered up, and seemed to be on the verge of death. “I… Cass he…” you could barely find your voice much less form a sentence.
“Castiel brought you here? Why?” the archangel asked.
“I don’t know… to save me, I guess?”
“You guess?” Michael hissed. “Well you don’t belong here, and you most definitely don’t belong meddling with the souls of heaven!” Michael lifted his hands, his thumb and middle finger meeting together. Your eyes widened and before you could make a sound, he snapped his fingers.
The room was dark, save for the light coming in from the wide open door. You scanned the room and noticed that you were back in Dean’s room. Jumping off of his bed, you rushed out of the room, not wanting to anger him again. As you stumbled into the hall, a chill vibrated through your bones, goosebumps once again plaguing your skin.
Carved on the walls were a pattern of four names… Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Y/N. Over and over, your names littered the walls, however, every name was crossed out, save for Dean’s. Was this his way of reminding himself that the three of you were dead and he was the only one left?
Following the markings, you began to hear the sound of light sobbing. As you continued to walk, it only got louder. You found your way to the library, peaking into the room to find Dean sitting at a table, arms folded and face buried in them, surrounded by books and files scattered all over the place.
“Gone. They’re all gone,” he muttered through sobs. “I’m all alone…”
Your heart shattered. Empathizing with him, your eyes began to swell, unable to even begin thinking about how you’d feel if you were completely alone. That everyone you loved was gone and you were the last one standing. It was cripplingly devastating and down right terrifying.
Stepping out from hiding, you called Dean’s name. His sobbing instantly silence and his head lifted from his arms. Slowly, his head turned towards you, and you screamed. He had no eyes, just black holes, like he had been spited by god himself.
“Y/N, you came back…” he spoke, getting out of his seat. You flinched, taking a step back.
“You’re not Dean…” you stumbled backwards. “What did you do?!” You shouted, the feeling of bile rising in your throat.
“Y/N, it’s me.”
“No,” you choked, tears already streaming down your cheeks.
“It’s me, Dean,” he tried to convince you again.
“No!” you screamed, turning to run but slamming against something.
Falling backwards, you winced at the connection. Hovering above you was Dean, but his lips were curved downwards, not seeming to happy with your attempt to run. “Did I say you could leave?” He roared, the entire bunker shaking.
He grabbed your ankle, easily dragging you to who knows where. Despite your resistance, he didn’t seem to have any problem pulling your along. “Please, stop! Don’t!” you pleaded, eyes burning.
Your screams and pleas became more and more frantic once you realized where he was taking you… the dungeon. “I beg of you, please leave me alone!” you cried, but he didn’t stop.
He tossed you in the middle of the demon trap, except it didn’t look like a demon trap… it was something else. A new symbol you’ve never seen before. “Now you’re never going to leave me,” he mumbled.
As he turned to leave, you shouted, running after him, however you couldn’t move. Casting your eyes downwards, standing at the edge of the trap, you realized you couldn’t get out. “Dean!” you called, trying to force yourself out of it. “Dean!”
You began to cry uncontrollably, calling Dean’s name. Everything felt cold and you could suddenly see your breath. Figures came into view and all around you, you saw the faces of all your friends.
Through the mass of familiar faces, Jody made her way towards the front. “He won’t let us leave,” she confessed. “He’s keeping us here,” she added.
“Y/N, you need to help us,” a voice came from behind you. Whipping around, you saw Sam standing in front of you.
“S-Sam? B-but… I—I saw you in heaven.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know whose heaven you saw, but it wasn’t mine. Letting all the information process through your head, you realized the heaven you saw had to have been Mary’s. She was the only person you’ve met. You’ve never known Jess or John, but you did know Mary. She even told you once, that you were part of her family. That one day, you and Dean would be more… but it never happened. You and Dean… there was just too much weight in being together. Too much to lose if you two were together. Love was impossible.
There were chatter coming from somewhere in the room and in the corner of your eye you saw movement. Moving your attention away from Sam and to the noise, you saw the crowd being shoved aside, revealing Kevin.
“He took me. He took me from my mom! God, I hate it here!” Kevin shouted, pain erupting on your right cheek. Your hand instantly cupped the hot area. When you drew your hand away, you saw blood. “Why is he doing this to us?!” Kevin howled.
He was going rabid. A restless soul. And eventually, they all will turn the same way, and you’ll be the only one in the room they can take their wrath out on… you were going to die in here. Dean was going to let you die by the hands of your dead friends.
“Dean!” You screamed, voice high and piercing. “Dean! Please! Let me out! Dean!”
Gasping for air, you shot out of bed, your sheets completely drenched. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest in any second. Seconds later, your bedroom door went flying open, revealing Dean, Sam, and Castiel.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Dean rushed forwards, sitting in front of you as he cupped your cheeks with both hands, wiping away your tears. “Hey, it was just a bad dream. I’m here. We’re here,” Dean stated, his voice instantly soothing you in your shaken state. “You’re okay, Sweetheart. You’re okay,” he looked you straight in the eyes, letting you know that this was really him, and that you were safe.
“Dean,” you croaked, his beautiful emerald eyes peering at you. With that being enough validation that he was actually him, you lunged yourself into his arms.
“Yeah, baby. I’m here.”
--
A/N: I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how I feel about this one. But if you like it, please ease my worries and let me know! I would really appreciate any positive feedback. Also, please reblog so that it may reach more readers! Thank you for reading! xx
#spndeanbingo#spn dean bingo 2019#SPN Dean Bingo#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#dean winchester one shot#dean fan fiction#dean fan fic#dean one shot#spn#supernatural#spn fan fiction#supernatural fan fiction#spn fan fic#supernatural fan fic#dean#nightmare#End of the World#squirrel-moose-winchester
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