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svnarintaro · 4 years

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meeting the kids

authors note: OKAY LISTEN- i honestly need to learn how to write good imagines (especially about the aged up characters) so i’m about to get serious lol- but i hope that people give me some criticism on my imagines :’)

synopsis: you and shota have been in a relationship for almost a year but you get the feeling he is hiding something from you, so you find out he has kids, and you just so happen to meet all 20 of them.. in the mall.. when one of them was hitting on you..

warnings: fluffy fluff :’)

word count: 1.6k words

aizawa shota x !fem! reader

shota has been crazy busy ever since the new school year started, it was 1 am in the morning and he still had his face shoved in his laptop constantly typing away. the two of you moved in together a month ago and you understood that being a teacher was really hard but now it felt like he was barely in your shared apartment, heck he barely spoke now. you brought him a cup of water and he thanked you and got back to work, so you sighed and put your head down on his shoulder and proceeded to inhale his scent. “you've been at it for a while shota.. i think you need to take a break,” your voice was muffled by his neck. “kitten i really need to get the this report done, i’ll go to bed in a few minutes i promise i’ll be there soon,” he groaned out out of stress, and kissed your forehead and turned his attention back onto the unfinished report. you sighed and walked towards your shared bed and got comfortable underneath the blankets and checked the time once more.

“why does midoriya have to get into trouble 99% of the time, i just want to go to bed already..” complaint after complaint the report was almost finished, he turned back to you laughing at your cute bed head as you tossed and turned in your slumber, oh how he wished to just hold you and go to bed already but this group of first years were troublesome so he worked harder than ever to spend more time with you, his kitten.

you have been on edge for quite some time now. ‘is he really hiding something from me?’ for the past month your boyfriend has been undeniably busy with his job and you were 100% sure that there was something going on. as a secretary of fatgum’s agency you knew of only one U.A student and that was amajiki but he was a third year and you highly doubted that he knew anything about shota’s class. ‘what if it is a teacher?’ you really did hope it wasn’t that given scenario. nothing made you more sad than the fact you barely could see him at work.

meanwhile at U.A the students were talking amongst themselves. “did you hear about how aizawa sensei might have a significant other?” ochaco whispered to tsu and jirou as they were walking through the halls. “all i know is that they have been together for about a year or so based off of his conversation with all might..” tsu and ochaco nodded at the given intel, the entire class was really curious on their teacher ever since the school year started. “but shouldn’t we be focusing more on training as of now? since we have to keep up bakugou.. ribbit” as the three girls got to the class they stopped at the door to see everyone making plans.

“as class 1-A’s representative we as a class should become closer to form more unity between all of us, thus will make our group stronger,” everyone looked around to see each of the students nodding in agreement. “ohh let’s go to the mall! there is a karaoke place and a really good manga store at the one near the school,” the black haired girl had stars in her eyes at the thought of spending money, todoroki just wanted to waste his fathers money while everyone else was excited for karaoke. “that is a great idea momo! we can scope out all of the hotties” everyone took the time to stare down at mineta. “I’LL GO IF ONLY THAT GRAPE HEADED FREAK STAYS AWAY FROM ME.” “calm down bakubro.”

“thanks for coming with me shota i really need to get something for my friends birthday,” your boyfriend smiled at your thoughtfulness, you always had a generous demeanour so he couldn’t help but go with you to the nearby mall on his off day. “it’s okay kitty i worked out something with the ladies at the front desk to carry on my work for me, so you have my full attention.” an arm was lazily draped over your shoulder, “doesn’t one of them have a thing for you?” you asked, the feeling of guilt flooded you because doubting him was never something you would do but with how busy he was at work it felt weird to think about it; he could’ve given his co-workers his work and spend more time with you and this feeling in your gut made you feel so selfish.

he stopped you from walking any further, and gently got you to face him and hooked his fingers under your chin to tilt you head to look up at him, “why would i dwell on that when i have you kitten.” you felt like you were on cloud nine and it made you feel safe and loved. you smiled and looked straight into his eyes, and kissed him on the lips to really show that you were happy in his arms and the two of you were on your merry way to the mall to pick up the items you needed.

on the other side of the mall however was chaotic. the class 1-A gang, was charging towards the building, “please refrain from causing trouble, i will not have our school’s reputation be tainted by our outing!!” “iida calm down your yelling is creating a scene.” it was a sight to see 20 children together all at the same time. “how about this, since the boy’s are likely to whine about following the girls on a shopping trip it let’s split up and come to the food court at around 2 pm giving us two hours to get everything done and then we can spend one more hour after we eat to do karaoke.” toru asked the class in which they agreed. in full honesty everyone was trying to avoid bakugou’s rage in public.

however mineta had other plans..

his plan was to follow the girls until they got to a bathing suit shop, for his own ‘research purposes’ that involved a camera. so he did everything he could to not get caught by the girls. so the moment he got to the shop he had a sickening look on his face. but what really sought his eye was a silhouette in the store that he couldn’t resit from taking a picture or two. unfortunately that lady was you..

the longer you took to choose the bathing suit you wanted to give to your best friends you felt an odd presence and you knew for a fact that it was not your boyfriend because you know he was getting you a drink from the food court. since you ‘ate too little at home.' you stopped what you were doing and you looked around, really got spooked, but there was no one watching you. the only other people in the store you saw was a group of girls that were engrossed in the variety of choices to choose from.

all was good until you felt a breeze shoot up your skirt, and with your luck you weren’t wearing any shorts underneath and you also heard a camera click. you looked down and screamed, “help t-theres a p-pervert!!” the store clerk looked in your direction, the girls in the store did nothing except face palm at the sight of the ‘pervert’ a few seconds later a bunch of high school boys ran into the store, “MINETA WHAT ARE YOU-” “sir, calm down please there are police officers are coming to handle this situation."

you couldn’t believe it, you were an adult and you were getting peeped on by a high school boy. you were trying to get as far away from the guy as possible and prayed that your boyfriend was coming soon.. “y/n are you okay?! i came as soon as i heard- MINETA WHAT IN WORLD ARE YOU THINKING HARASSING A WOMAN IN PUBLIC.” you were purely confused because you have never seen shota so angry, and most importantly you were confused on how he knew the pervert.

“AIZAWA SENSEI?!”

“so you’re telling me you left mineta unsupervised, but you forced bakugou to go with an entire group?” “in our defence sensei, bakugou is technically a weapon of mass destruction.” you were amused at the sight of aizawa acting like a teacher was undeniably hot to you. “and you,” he snapped his head towards ‘mineta’ “you will have to be on class duty for the rest of the year for hitting on my girlfriend, do you understand me?” and thats when chaos ran loose with the girls. “THIS IS HIS SIGNIFICANT OTHER?!” “WOAH I THOUGHT THEY WERE FRIENDS” “ I THOUGHT HE WAS DATING PRES MIC” and thats when aizawa face palmed and you peeked behind aizawa, "you should introduce yourself y/n."

“u-um hi, my name is y/n l/n and yeah i’m dating your teacher.. you don’t have to call me sensei or anything and i forgive you mineta, i’ll make shota’s punishments lighter on you i promise.” you timidly say to the class and they were dumbfounded. “CAN YOU BE MY MOM?!” “AIZAWA SENSEI SHE’S THE ONE.” "MARRY THEM ALREADY." and you just stood there and smiled and interacted with them for a little while until you told them all to go home.

as the two of you were walking back home you took shota’s hands to stop him from walking any further and let go of his hands to now cup his face, “so this is why you were being secretive, cause you have a pervert, a weapon, and a bunch of our shippers in your class. what an interesting group you got there,” and you proceeded to kiss his lips with a smile on both your faces. “yeah every time you asked me to go to bed i was writing baout my problem children.” he laughed and you were relieved. “sho can i tell you something?” “yes kitty you can tell me anything on you mind.” "have you thought of marrying me?" shota giggled,

"i wouldn't have it any other way."

207 notes · View notes

thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 4 years

Note

Brooklyn 99 AU? If you haven’t seen that, just think like an Office or Parks and Rec-esque work sitcom

“Make Terry do it,” Santiago whispered. “He’s good at babysitting.”

“Make Terry do what?” Jeffords looked up from his yogurt, expression concerned.

The informal conference in the precinct break room exchanged a glance.

“We may have arrested a few underage tourists from out of town,” Peralta said. “They may or may not have been drunk, but, uh...”

Peralta glanced at Boyle. “But we left them unsupervised in the back of the police van for, like, two minutes,” Boyle explained quickly. “So by the time we got the breathalyzer working, they were all sober.”

“They all puked?” Scully asked, appalled.

Santiago shook her head sadly. “They all morphed.”

“Wait. You mean...” Jeffords craned his neck to look out across the main room. He caught a glimpse of the group of kids currently sitting in the Nine-Nine’s holding cell, and his expression went slack in horror. “No. No. No, Terry has not had nearly enough low-fat peach-mango yogurt to deal with this today.”

“They’re famous!” Peralta made jazz hands at the rest of the squad. “That’s kind of cool, right? That Marco kid’s a movie star, Tobias definitely counts as a cryptid, and... the others... do stuff...”

“Yeah.” Santiago crossed her arms. “They kill people.”

“There was a war on!” Peralta protested. “Aliens invaded, Boyle’s mom got possessed by a scary slug thing and tried to kill me —”

“She said she was sorry for mistaking the Sharing for a ferret-themed lomage fanclub,” Boyle said.

“Yeah, no, anyone could make that mistake.” Peralta pivoted back to Santiago. “The point is, they killed people as part of a war. And that, like, doesn’t count or something.”

“What’d they do?” Jeffords asked.

"It was only a few murders,” Boyle said.

“Today!” Jeffords gestured to the front room, where the delinquents in question were clearly sitting in their holding cell. “Why’d we arrest them?”

Santiago pulled out her phone, calling up the relevant statement. “They’re claiming they were provoked when, quote, ‘Some guy wolf-whistled Cassie, and then that guy’s biker gang objected to Rachel’s attempts to rip his arms off and feed them to him, and really it was their fault all along.’” She looked up. “Signed Jake Berenson. Which begs the question: did we get ID from any of them?”

“They all morphed,” Boyle pointed out. “Who else could it possibly be?”

“So that explains the entire cell’s worth of muscular guys with mild-to-moderate grizzly bear wounds downstairs,” Scully said, staring upward in wonder.

“That’s it, we’re all babysitting them,” Jeffords declared. “And by that, I mean that we’re getting them out of our hair as fast as we legally can, whether or not we charge them with anything in the process.”

“Agreed,” Santiago said, shoving open the door to the main room.

The scene in the holding cell was... not pandemonium. Jake and Cassie were sitting on the bench at the back of the cell, Cassie’s head leaning on Jake’s shoulder. Rachel leaned against the bars, picking at her nails. Tobias sat on the crossbar next to her, preening. All in all, the kids seemed to be cooperating, which was a mercy. It wasn’t like the Nine-Nine had the budget for even one-tenth of the equipment necessary to actually contain an Animorph, after all.

Still, it was probably for the best that some wise soul had moved all the other prisoners downstairs.

“...and you can conceal up to 15 knives in the interior pockets alone,” Diaz was telling Marco. He watched with rapt fascination, leaning over her desk, as she unfolded a butterfly knife one-handed and then swung it closed again.

“Rosa, did you let him out of the cell?” Santiago asked, exasperated.

“Nope.” Diaz shrugged. “Must’ve broken out on his own.”

“He didn’t break anything,” Jake called from inside the cell. “Marco has not damaged or defaced any government property, nor have any of the rest of us.”

“And yet somehow, there are not one but two delinquents meandering unrestrained around my precinct.” Holt had emerged from his office, and was now looking slowly from Marco to Ax.

“Yeeeaaah, he’s not technically under arrest.” Peralta jerked his chin at Ax. “Seeing as he’s not from Earth, we probably can’t arrest him? And even if we can, it definitely wouldn’t be worth the headache of trying to charge him with anything in intergalactic courts.”

“If you’re not under arrest, you may leave,” Holt told Ax sternly.

Ax straightened up from where he had been eating... something... off the floor of the microwave. “I am not going anywhere without my friends!”

“That’s so beautiful.” Boyle swooned against the door frame. “It’s like you share a six-way love whose unmatched intensity pours out of you...”

“Not in front of the kids, Charles,” Peralta said.

“What? I was just—”

“If you’re allowed to leave, could you at least go get us some hot dogs or something?” Rachel asked Ax, ignoring the cops.

“Nah, hot dogs are a Chicago thing,” Jake pointed out. “Go for knishes, or pizza, or... what else is in New York?”

“Those little paper packets of honey-roasted peanuts,” Cassie suggested.

Everyone glanced over when there was a loud thud from across the room, and then back to the conversation when they realized it was just Marco trying, and failing, to get one of Diaz’s knives to stick in the surface of her desk.

«Tacos.» Tobias looked unerringly at Scully. «There has to be a taco truck around here somewhere, right?»

“Don’t you worry.” Scully pulled his partner to his feet, gasping at the effort of unsticking Hitchcock from his comfortable chair. “Me and Hitchcock’ll show him all the best food trucks in Brooklyn.”

“How many — any — are there?” Ax asked eagerly.

“Two hundred seven, if you don’t count pushcarts or ice cream vendors,” Hitchcock said immediately.

“We shall return with a bounty as great as three sets of human arms can bear,” Ax promised Rachel.

She flashed him a thumbs-up.

“Hot wings!” Cassie called. “That’s a New York thing, right? Hot wings?”

“Have we got a sauce for you,” Scully promised, a hand on Ax’s shoulder.

Jeffords ran to intercept them at the door. “You can’t just wander in and out of the precinct with suspects, Scully!”

«If you don’t like Ax coming and going, you could always just arrest him,» Tobias said acidly.

There was a long silence. During this silence, Ax slipped out the door with Hitchcock and Scully behind him.

“Kids these days and their attitudes,” Jeffords complained, spinning around too late to intercept Ax and then turning back to give Tobias his sternest stare. “I should speak to your parents or guardians, young man.”

Tobias laughed. «Joke’s on you, since I don’t have any parents or guardians.»

“What?” Jeffords ran forward to press himself against the bars, appalled. “Do you want to come home with me? Cagney and Lacey keep telling me they want an older brother, and Sharon makes excellent chicken cacciatore — you don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“He’s ours and you can’t have him,” Rachel snapped, standing up to get in Jeffords��s face. She didn’t seem to care much that she had to tilt her head back at a 45-degree angle to make eye contact, and somehow succeeded in conveying that she was looking down at him.

“Duuuuuuude!” Marco exclaimed loudly from across the room. “You really mean it?”

“Sure.” Diaz rested a hand on the hatchet that lay across her desk. “I teach people how to throw ‘em all the time.”

“Marco!” Rachel turned away to whack on the bars. “Quit fraternizing with the enemy.”

Peralta gasped loudly. “We’re the enemy?” he asked in delight. “Are we your nemeses? Does this mean that we’re as scary as the Yeerk Empire?”

“Why?” Jake stood up, making eye contact through the bars. “Do you want to be? Are you saying that you’re controllers?” He took a step forward, not breaking his stare. “Or was that just an expression of sympathy for their cause?”

“Uh.” Peralta laughed nervously. He’d taken several steps back in the last few seconds. “You know what, never mind. We’re cool, right? Alllllll cool. Super cool. The coolest.”

“That’s easy to say for someone currently holding us against our will.” Jake still sounded unamused. “We have complied fully with your demands up until now, and will continue to do so unless you give us a reason not to.”

“Are you threatening my detective?” Holt asked, very mildly.

“Are you charging me with additional crimes?” Jake’s voice wasn’t mild at all.

“Have I mentioned that I’m a big fan of you guys’s work?” Peralta asked, making a grand gesture to include all of the Animorphs. “Because I’m thinking maybe that didn’t come through. Huge fan. Love the way you squash those yeerks. It’s a delight having you here.”

“Of course we’ll go along with whatever you think is best, Officers.” Jake sat back down. He had yet to look away from Peralta.

“Amy I think I changed my mind about having kids,” Perlata said all in one breath, smiling and nodding as he continued to back away from the cell.

“No, chicks dig hatchets,” Diaz was explaining to Marco. “Guys tend to get all weird about it if you start flinging weaponry around.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” He was still hanging on her every word.

“The trick with guys is to pull out a little bit of that feelings shit.” Seeing the expression on his face, she shook her head. “You don’t have to go full-hog and reveal your real name on the first date or anything.”

Marco laughed. “Oh good. Because I am not looking for that kind of commitment. I usually don’t want any commitment to anyone, ever.”

“Good policy.” Diaz clapped him on the arm. “Nah, with dudes it only takes a little bit of sappy stuff. I’m talking a moderate-tier confession, like...” She considered for a second. “I keep one of my knives hidden in my boot, and it doesn’t set off metal detectors when I gotta work government buildings.”

“Uh-huh.” Marco bent over the sheet of paper on his lap, scribbling frantically.

“Are you taking notes?” Rachel called, disgusted.

“More importantly, is he taking notes on the back of his own arrest form?” Santiago rushed across the room to rescue the rest of the paperwork from Marco’s defacing.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Diaz held up the back side of Marco’s paper. “It’s just the arrest sheet where Peralta made four attempts to spell ‘Aximili’ before declaring that we probably couldn’t arrest an alien anyway.”

“Those two events were entirely unrelated!” Peralta said loudly.

“Of course, we all believe you.” Santiago leaned over to pat him on the arm.

“If they can’t arrest Ax, can they arrest you?” Cassie asked Tobias.

He shrugged, or at least it looked like that’s what he did. «They still haven’t processed me, so I suspect not.»

“We are going to process you,” Boyle said, “just as soon as we figure out how to scan your fingerprints.”

«But I’m not under arrest yet, am I?»

“Aren’t you guys legally required to release him, then?” Cassie turned back to the room at large.

“We can hang on to all of you for twenty-four hours,” Santiago called back.

“The question is,” Peralta muttered, “do we want to?”

“I’m gonna keep this one around to bring me iced coffees and gas up my motorcycle.” Diaz was watching Marco polish one of her axes. “For a kid, he’s pretty dope.”

Marco gasped, a hand over his heart. “You don’t mean it!”

She held up a finger. “Too sappy.”

“I have a hatchet?” He held it up in offering.

“Better.”

“Speaking of our legal rights,” Rachel said, “can I call my mom? She’s a lawyer, after all.”

“Yeah, well my mom’s a teacher,” Peralta said immediately. “And you don’t hear me bragging about it.”

“That’s not the point.” Santiago sighed loudly.

“The point is,” Holt interjected, “she asked for a lawyer, and we need to provide her with one.”

«Can your mom be my lawyer too?» Tobias asked.

Rachel shrugged. “Sure. I think. Jake already took his phone call, and Cassie wasted hers on checking in at the hospital—”

“I just wanted to be sure that we didn’t permanently injure that man,” Cassie said mildly. “Only showed him the error of his ways.”

“You did that, all right,” Diaz said. “I like your style, for what it’s worth.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I like your style,” Marco breathed, staring up at Diaz. “Teach me everything.”

“You want to be a cop?” Cassie asked him.

“What? No!” Marco turned quickly to Diaz. “No offense, it’s nothing personal, they don’t mean it, but also...”

“Nah, it’s cool. You’re a smart kid,” Diaz said. “Cops are losers.”

“Excuse you,” Santiago said, “Could a loser win both the ‘Most Organized Seminar’ and ‘Highly Relevant Community Announcements’ awards from the same commissioner in one year?” She gestured pointedly to a matching set of plaques on her desk. “Checkmate.”

“I have brought a bounty of wings!” Ax declared. At least, it was presumably Ax speaking from behind the teetering stack of take-out boxes that went clear over his head and somehow didn’t include the four additional plastic bags of Chinese food hanging off his arms.

«Ax-Man, you are a god among insects,» Tobias said.

“Not on top of the binders!” Santiago lunged to shield them with a drawer before Ax’s tower of food boxes could topple onto the front desk.

“Can I have some?” Peralta asked wistfully, watching as Ax slotted an entire pizza box through the bars to where Jake and Cassie could pry it open.

“Here Jakey, we got you a tub of Wing Slut sauce.” Scully set it reverently on Peralta’s desk.

“Really, you shouldn’t have.” Peralta scooted his chair back several inches, eyeing the tub with suspicion.

As the better part of the Nine-Nine watched in horrified fascination, Tobias tossed his head back and swallowed a Buffalo wing whole. After a second he made a hacking sound and spit up the bone, now completely cleaned of all meat.

“You eat wings?” Boyle asked, leaning in to peer through the bars. “Is that cannibalism?”

“It’s an open question,” Cassie said. She folded a paper plate taco-style to protect the lo mein inside, sliding it out to Ax. “Can you make sure Marco eats something with lots of carbs before he goes hatchet throwing?”

Ax took the plate, saluting her with his free hand. “The sauce is most excellent, sell-lent, when consumed through a straw,” he told Peralta in a conspiratorial whisper as he went by.

Peralta pushed to his feet. “Yep, I am never having kids, and I am never eating food ever again.”

“Human bodies do not continue living if you do not consume sufficient nutrients.” Ax pointedly set the lo mein in front of Marco.

“Ha!” Peralta said. “That’s what everyone said about drinking water, and yet!”

Marco grabbed a handful of noodles straight off the plate and dropped them in his mouth. “The bagels might be better here, but you can’t beat California’s Chinese takeout,” he concluded after chewing for several seconds. “Sorry,” he added, glancing up at Diaz.

“If you suck up any harder, you’re going to injure something,” Rachel snarked.

“Why, are you jealous?” Marco batted his eyelashes at her.

“No, she just remembers that we’re all under arrest right now,” Jake said loudly. “And that we’re under no obligation to say or do anything without a lawyer.”

“Which is why I’m here. To ensure you do not talk yourself into any more trouble than you already have.”

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer.

“Hi Aunt Naomi,” Jake said, voice small.

Rachel rounded on him. “You used your phone call to contact my mom?”

Jake held up both hands. “I didn’t say anything about the alcohol!”

“Alleged alcohol,” Naomi said loudly. “Which these minors have not admitted to purchasing or consuming, because they have not made any statement admissible in a court of law, because you have been holding them all here illegally without an advocate.”

“Ma’am, I think you’ll find that we made every effort to secure advocacy and legal representation for these children with all due haste.” Holt moved smoothly across the room to shake her hand, and then ushered her into a chair. “Detective Peralta deemed it necessary to hold them here for their own safety until such time as we could obtain statements from everyone involved.”

“Has anyone pressed charges yet?” Naomi sat in the folding chair like a queen on a throne, and glared at Holt until he — with a wincing glance at the dust on the seat — sat across from her.

“No, ma’am. The only person likely to do so is still at the hospital,” Holt explained.

“Oh yeah, he said he wasn’t going to,” Cassie called over.

“What,” Peralta said, laughing. “You just called him on the phone and talked him out of it? Just like that?”

Cassie shrugged. “I asked nicely.”

“It’s Cassie,” Marco told Diaz in a stage-whisper. “She does stuff like that.”

“Hardcore.” Diaz looked Cassie over.

“But I’m still more hardcore than her, right?”

“Too desperate.”

“I have four knives?”

“Better. Only four?”

“Where else am I gonna put them? I can’t morph and wear a leather coat at the same time.”

“Point.”

“If they’re not being charged with anything,” Naomi said overtop all of this, “and they’ve already given their statements, then you need to release them from custody.”

“I’m not comfortable doing that if we’re not releasing them into the hands of a parent or legal guardian,” Holt said. “I’m given to understand from their earlier statements that Jake is your nephew and Rachel is your daughter?”

Naomi nodded.

“Then I can only release those two to you.” Holt seemed genuinely regretful that this was the case. Then again, it was Holt, so it was hard to tell for sure.

«Look, if Jake can go with his aunt, I can go with my uncle, right?» Tobias said.

“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Holt said.

“Thank you, human captain.” Ax gave a small bow to Holt. “I accept this responsibility.”

“Wait, wait.” Santiago looked Ax over. “No, we’re not going to just... How old are you, anyway?”

“I am eight-six years old,” Ax announced.

“Eighty-six,” she repeated.

Ax stared back at her, implacable.

Holt sighed. “Obviously, he is referencing the fact that andalite years are approximately point-two-four-one-zero-nine times the length of human years. However, since the law does not specify whose years one must count in order to determine whether an individual is over the age of eighteen, I believe I take his point.”

“Does this mean I’m eighty-six too?” Marco asked quickly.

“Were you born on Earth?” Santiago raised her eyebrows at him.

“Uh.” He glanced at Diaz. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

Diaz gave him a subtle fist-bump.

“My son is not an adult, nor does he mean to indicate that he wishes to be charged as an adult,” Naomi said quickly.

“‘Son’?” Marco squeaked.

“‘Son’?” Holt asked, frowning.

“Yes?” Peralta stuck his head up, took stock of the scene, and quickly sat back down.

“Son.” Naomi stared straight at Holt. “In fact, I will be taking all four of my children, both adoptive and biological, when I leave here today.”

“You adopted me?” Marco demanded. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Do you have proof to back up your assertion that you are these children’s mother?” Holt hadn’t broken Naomi’s stare either.

“The way I see it, you have two choices.” Naomi reached into her purse, pulling out one of her own business cards and setting it on the desk between them. “Either you allow us to walk out of here, in which case I promise you’ll never see any of us again... Or you continue to hold these minors without formal charges and without counsel, in which case I promise to pursue legal action against whatever stray bricks of this precinct are left standing after my daughter and her friends exercise their legal right to exit the building with as much force as they deem necessary. Which option would you prefer?”

“See?” Jake whispered loudly to Rachel. “I knew I made the right call by calling your mom.”

“I take your point,” Holt said, after a moment of consideration. “Very well, you and your children may leave. Do keep them out of trouble in the future, won’t you?”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Holt.” Naomi shook his hand.

Boyle was quickly fumbling for the lock on the cell door. “Can I have your autograph?” he asked Rachel as she went by.

Rachel looked him up and down, and then kept going without a word.

“Here, I’ll do it.” Cassie took the paper and sharpie from him.

“Can you make it out to ‘Nikolaj’?” Boyle asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe.” She uncapped the pen. “Can you spell that?”

“N-I-K-O-L-A-J, oh and can you add something about always listening to his dreams, and also the music of Diana Ross?”

Slowly, Cassie looked up at Boyle. She capped the pen — she’d settled for “to Nikolaj, from Cassie” — and handed everything back to him.

“Marco, dude, we’re going,” Jake said. He currently had both arms around Marco’s waist and was pulling him backward from Diaz’s desk.

“But... but...” Marco looked up at Diaz. “Call me?” Immediately he shook his head and said, “too desperate?”

She smirked. “Nah, you’re cool.”

He let out a lovelorn sigh and went limp, which was all the excuse Jake needed to haul him over one shoulder and head out of the building. Cassie and Ax followed, Tobias fluttering up to land on Rachel’s shoulder as she headed out too. Naomi brought up the rear, casting a pointed look around the room as she went.

“Man,” Jeffords sighed, “I should’ve gotten an autograph for my kids too.” And then he rounded on Peralta, midway through sneaking the Wing Sluts sauce tub into the trash can. “What did we learn today, Peralta?”

He considered. “Lawyers suck?”

“No!” Jeffords said. “Well, they do, but... Santiago?”

She looked up from where she’d been making an incident report to this exact effect. “Next time we’re thinking about arresting a whole batch of superpowered child soldiers on questionable misdemeanor charges... don’t?”

Holt nodded gravely. “Well said, Santiago.”

#animorphs #brooklyn 99 #animorphs au #brooklyn 99 au #long post #ficlet #brooklyn 99 crossover #animorphs crossover #aus #food #vomit mention #i know nothing about how police work #that i didn't get from watching this show #no research was done in the making of this crackfic #anonymous #asks

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five-rivers · 5 years

Text

Candlelight/Exorcism

Danny sniffed, and wrinkled his nose. He'd retreated upstairs, but the smell had worked its way into his room. It wasn't enough that Mom's weird friend from college was visiting today (and Mom had picked her up straight from Vlad's, at that!) but she had to fill the house up with scented candles and incense.

The woman called Serena Goodrich had apparently been the 'fourth leg' of the Ghost Research Club his parents and Vlad had belonged to, and she'd been the occult expert. A self-proclaimed psychic and medium.

Personally, Danny didn't think much of her abilities if she couldn't tell what he and Vlad were (she said she left Vlad's because they got into an argument), but she... unsettled him. He disliked her on sight. He wasn't entirely sure why, except for her association with Vlad. But once she started talking about ghosts she had exorcised, monopolizing Mom's time, burning all that incense, and lighting all those candles, he felt his dislike was justified.

He sniffed again, more fiercely. He could just leave, take a flight around town, join Jazz at the library (where she had retreated an hour hence), or hang out with Sam and Tucker, but the idea of leaving her unsupervised in his house with his parents grated on him. True, he was hiding out up here, out of sight, but at least he'd be around if she showed her true colors and did something nasty, like set the house on fire with all her candles. It was a ghost thing.

Besides, this was supposed to be his day to hang out with Mom and Dad. He'd worked hard to take care of all the ghosts and arrange for some of the warriors from the Far Frozen to guard the other side of the portal from unwanted visitors. There were still the natural portals, true, but he'd planned on letting Valerie take care of those unless something really big came through, and most of those opened up near the Fenton Portal on the Ghost Zone side, anyway. Near enough for the yetis to look after them for a day.

Instead, he was up here, trying to ignore irritating odors for long enough to get a head start on his English homework. He sneezed. Once, twice, three times. He groaned, rubbing his nose. He bet that woman had put anti-ghost herbs into her candles, or something. Giving him an allergic reaction... stupid... He grumbled under his breath.

"Danny?" called Mom from downstairs. "Can you come down? We need your help."

Danny groaned again, more loudly, at the thought of having to descend into the smog.

"Coming!" he said. He got up from his desk, and opened the door. Ugh, it was worse outside his room. He sneezed again, eyes watering. He was definitely allergic to something in those candles.

He made his way down the stairs coughing, and glared at some candles burning unattended in the living room. With a flick of thought, he put them out with a gust of wind, and smiled. He was getting better at controlling his haunt.

"Where are you guys?" he asked.

"Kitchen!" called Mom.

Danny stepped into the other room.

That was a mistake.

He felt like he had put his foot down on hot lighting, a current running up his leg and spine, directly to his core, where it transformed into a vice and squeezed. He dropped to his hands and knees, gasping, unable to hide the sudden and unexpected pain. Each breath brought more cloying smoke into his lungs, and his head swam with it.

"See?" crowed the not-so-fake psychic. "See how he's affected? I told you, Maddie. He's been possessed." She sounded far too happy about that. "Sit up, let us look at you."

Against his will, his body shuffled back from all fours to sit cross-legged on the floor. He could see, now, that a circle with a pentagram had been drawn on the tile floor with something white. Paint, maybe, not chalk. In between when he had fallen and now, someone had put candles on each point of the star. Something wet ran from his eyes and nose. He lifted his hand to wipe it away.

"Stop that," snapped the woman, brushing back her long fake blonde hair.

His hand fell heavily into his lap.

"Look, Maddie," said Dad. "There's traces of ectoplasm in his blood and tears. That doesn't happen in normal overshadowing."

Mom looked troubled. "Why is he bleeding?"

"It's the ghost trying to escape," said the woman, dismissively, "to force the host to move. Don't worry, we'll get rid of the ghost."

Danny opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, trying to communicate to his parents with just his eyes. He had never seriously considered exorcism as a way to go, but it sounded not fun and he was scared. His vision wavered with unshed tears.

"What is you name?" asked the woman as she sat down in front of Danny, just outside the circle.

"Danny." The word was practically pulled from his mouth.

The woman looked over her shoulder at Danny's parents. "This happens sometimes. What is your other name?"

"Fenton," ground out Danny. He apparently had some control, even like this. "What are you doing-"

"Speak only to answer the questions I ask, spirit," ordered the woman, confidently.

Danny's mouth snapped shut, and he swallowed. His eyes stung, whether from the the haze of smoke in the air, his tears, or both, he didn't know. He closed his eyes, hard, hoping at least to be able to see better.

He closed his eyes-

And he saw.

The thing sitting in front of him wasn't a woman, and certainly wasn't Serena Goodrich. It wasn't human. It wasn't a ghost. It was a hole in the world covered by empty meat, and it was hungry.

A hole in the world, like the portal downstairs. Like Danny.

Except he'd been added to, hadn't he? He was human and ghost, and other things besides, and this, in front of him, most certainly was not. It was his antithesis. His opposite. Wrong. It didn't lead to the Ghost Zone, to the Infinite Realms. It lead to The Place That Is Not, to the Red Country, to the Unspoken Land, to the Unworld.

Inside Danny, a shift took place. The ghostly part of him was curled in on itself, terrified. His human element was confused, and, frankly, out of its depth. The parts of him that were both and neither moved forward, taking charge.

"What is your full name, spirit?" asked the thing wearing a woman's body.

Danny opened his eyes. "My name's Danny!" he said, cheerily. "What's your's?" His dislike made more sense now. He must have been able to feel this thing under its human disguise.

It imitated a sigh. "This is probably the reason it fixated on your son, the-"

"Because it sure as heck isn't Serena Goodrich," interrupted Danny.

The thing glared at him, then sneered. "Your tricks won't work here, ghost."

Danny tilted his head to one side. Changing his nature had freed him from some of his bonds, but not all of them. "Mom?" he said, looking up at her. "Did you see Vlad when you picked this thing up?"

"Don't answer it, that's how they gain power over you."

"Because I think he might be dead."

The phone started to ring. Jack, the closest, picked it up. "Hello? I'm afraid this isn't a good time- What do you mean, Vladdie's dead?" He froze for a moment, listening to the voice on the other end of the line, then dropped the phone and whipped out an ectogun. Maddie copied the motion.

Not-Serena now had two giant ectoguns pointed at the back of her head.

"It isn't like I lied to you," it said. "This thing is no more human than I. I'm doing you a favor by getting rid of it."

"I'm infinitely more human than you. You aren't what you eat. No matter how many people you eat."

The thing snarled, red that wasn't red bleeding into its stolen irises. "It doesn't matter. I have you in my jaws. I know your name. It's only a matter of time."

"Then I think you've bitten off more than you can chew," replied Danny, calmly.

"Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom."

Danny hissed in pain as his core tugged towards the hole. Two ectoguns went off. Their shots never seemed to hit the Serena-thing. To all the world, they looked like they had vanished before hitting it. But Danny was not all the world. He could see, and he saw the ectoblasts vanishing down the hole's gaping maw.

The candles around the circle flared tall and red, their odor increasing. Blood blossoms. Now that he understood, he saw how they were connected to the World That Was Not A World.

"This is my house," he said, through gritted teeth. The candles went out, and the electric lights flickered. A sense of cold fell on the room. "Did you think I'd be as easy as Vlad?"

His awareness spread down and out, briefly brushing the portal before spreading out along the floor. Tiles lit up, cold green fire flicking along their edges, making a rough circle around the door to the Unworld. Mom and Dad jumped back.

"No. You're better. You'll fill me."

"Nothing could fill you," said Danny, disgusted.

"You're just like me."

"I'm really not."

"A door to another place."

That was... true enough. "I added where you consumed." He needed a little more to make this work. "I am Danny Fenton. You cannot possibly call yourself Serena Goodrich."

"What does it feel like, to be a door to heaven?"

The Infinite Realms, as remarkable as the were, were most definitely not heaven. "What is your name?"

"I am Gula, the Devourer! And you shall not escape me, Phantom! I will feast on you and your world!"

"Alright, Gula, the Devourer. Bye, Gula, the Devourer."

He pushed on the hole, and, in the basement, the portal whined, the vibrations shaking the entire house. The Serena-thing screeched and fell.

Slowly, the house, and Danny, returned to normal. He curled in on himself, panting. This was supposed to be his day off, darn it.

He looked up at Mom and Dad. Were those their 'two supernatural entities, one of whom is our son who we love and cherish, just had a grudge match in our kitchen' faces, or their 'the supernatural entity possessing our son just killed our college friend in our kitchen' faces?

Because all semblance of life had fled from the body of Serena Goodrich.

"Mom?" he asked, nervously. "Dad?"

"What," said Maddie. "What was that?"

Her weapon wasn't pointed at him. That was a good sign.

"A hole in the world," said Danny. "What happens when a portal goes wrong." He pushed himself up slightly.

"And what are you?"

"She called you Phantom," added Dad.

Danny swallowed, and sat up the rest of the way.

"How long have you been dead?"

"That's- I- I'm not really dead. Not entirely, but-" he licked his lips, and looked down. "I'm what happens when a portal goes right." He took a deep breath. "I am still me, I'm just... more, I guess."

There was a long silence, and Danny didn't dare look up. Something moved towards him, and he flinched, coming up against the barrier behind him, which, for some reason, was still active.

He curled up again, afraid. He was trapped, and exposed, and the smoke was still in his lungs, and-

The barrier dropped. He tilted back without the support, and almost fell, but Mom caught him and pulled him into a hug.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay. I'm sorry we didn't help you more."

"But you did, by not believing it anymore. That took away a lot of its power over me, I think."

"It's lucky the police called when they did, then!" said Dad, far too loud. "The police!" He scooped the phone up off the floor, put it to his ear, and frowned at it. "Dial tone?"

"Not luck, exactly," said Danny. "It was me. I can- I can do stuff like that. Haunted house stuff. You should probably call them, though. And check on Vlad. I really hope he's not dead." Danny coughed.

Mom inhaled shakily. "You have a lot of explaining to do, young man." She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

Danny knew the feeling.

"Okay, but can we do it outside? Away from all this smoke?"

"Smoke?"

"You don't see it?" said Danny.

Mom sighed, and stood, helping Danny up. "I suppose we need to get our story straight for the police, too. Oh, Serena..."

"I'm sorry," said Danny.

"Let's go outside, son," said Dad.

"Okay."

#danny phantom #ectoberweek19 #ectober #ectober 2019 #phanfiction #phanfic #my phanfic #my writing

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ghostsray · 4 years

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Danny Zombie chapter 2

(remember this fic? here’s the second chapter. tbh i dont even have a plot in mind, im just writing whatever bs pops in my head. based on @burning-clutch‘s prompt: an au where the ghosts are humans and the humans are ghosts)

Walker trudged into the cemetary. It was the dead of night, pun unintended, and he carried a flashlight to provide him better light than the dim full moon. He had received complaints from the surrounding residents about a strange occurence here: a flash of light, a sudden storm. To him, that sounded like a load of crap, but more than one person had witnessed it, so he had no choice but to investigate.

The flashlight's beam caught a group of teenagers up the hill, standing among a row of graves. As soon as they noticed him, they began to flee--two at first, then another pair trailing after. "Hey!" Walker called and picked up his pace, but he was too late. The four troublemakers had already made it to the opposite wall by the time he reached the grave they were ransacking.

Walker stopped and turned his flashlight down over the grave. He let out a disapproving tsk at what he saw. Whoever those teens were, (and he had an idea; he was familiar with all the troublemakers in town,) they had undoubtedly robbed the grave. A deep hole was dug in the mound, almost as if somebody had climbed out from inside the grave. Walker chuckled at that image. As if zombies were real.

The cop shone his flashlight down the hole. At first, he was met with nothingness, which was odd. Surely the graverobbers couldnt have taken the whole corpse with them, could they? Then, something stirred. Walker nearly dropped his flashlight in surprise, but he caught it and kneeled over the open grave to get a better look.

Nothing.

Walker exhaled. He was not a superstitious man, but this place gave him the creeps. He stood up, and as he did, his foot knocked against something. He looked down and grinned. A guitar--and a familiar one at that. He was sure the owner's parents would enjoy a nice chat with him.

He bent down to pick up the instrument, and that was when it happened. Toxic green light gradually grew from the grave and intensified until everything was shed in chartreuse. Walker momentarily forgot about the guitar, whipping his head back to face the grave.

It wasn't so empty anymore. When he peeked inside again, a swirling vortex of green...something...had filled it up. The light it produced was so bright it painted the soil a sickly green. Walker's jaw hung loose as he gawked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Just then, something rose out of the vortex--or rather, someone.

He was a tall man in a white suit and sunglasses hiding his eyes, but what really caught Walker's attention was the fact that he was glowing. If one stared at him hard enough, his skin appeared transparent, and Walker thought he saw his skull underneath his face. Oh, yeah, and he was floating in the middle of the air above the portal he had come through.

The man, whatever he was, looked down at Walker, and goosebumps broke out on his flesh. He picked up his jaw long enough to ask, "Who...What are--"

He couldn't finish his sentence before the creature lunged at him. Walker held his arms up to protect himself, but it didn't do anything, because he wasn't attacked. Instead, the man--the ghost--had entered his body.

Walker's entire body shuddered. He felt his mind being pushed into nothingness as whatever was inside him wrested control. He desperately tried to cling to his consciousness, but it was no use. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't Walker anymore.

Operative's eyes glowed red. He flexed his borrowed neck and smiled.

Sidney woke up on 6 AM, like he did everyday. The alarm clock was ringing by his bedside, and he rolled in bed and slammed the top until it quieted. His eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes stared at him.

"Jiminy Cricket!" he blurted and fell off his bed.

"Jiminy Cricket?" Danny echoed. "What year were you born in?"

Sidney glared up at him from his spot upside down on the floor. The halfa was standing in Sidney's bedroom, wearing his borrowed clothes after Sidney had insisted he take a shower last night to remove all that creepy dirt on his body. He looked more alive than he had yesterday, almost normal even, though he was still pale.

"Says the guy who died forty years ago," Sidney grumbled and righted himself. He glanced at the halfa again and asked, "Didn't sleep?"

Danny slowly shook his head. "Dreams...are scary."

Sidney raised an eyebrow. Now that he looked at those blue eyes again, he noticed they seemed pretty bloodshot. "Not all dreams are scary," he said. "For example, I was just having a wonderful dream about standing up to Aragon."

"Who's Aragon?"

"This bully in school," Sidney said, and the way he mentioned the word "bully" made it sound like the worst insult possible. "His real name is Aaron, but he thinks calling himself Aragon is edgier or whatever. He thinks that just because he's rich, he's so much better than everyone else." He shook his head and added, "What about you? What dream is so scary you couldn't sleep?"

Danny didn't reply. He averted his eyes and focused on a corner.

Sidney sighed. Once again, he wondered why he was even letting him stay at his house. Curse that Ember for dropping him here. Hey, Poindexter! Here's this undead guy I found in the middle of the cemetary. I'll just drop him in your house and then leave!

He can't say he doesn't understand her reasoning, though. Ember's parents would never let her sneak a boy in her house, but Sidney's grandmother was barely aware of what was going on around her. One time he managed to keep a cat inside for an entire month, and she had no idea. (The cat's name was Gene Kelly, and he escaped when Sidney left the window open one day.)

"Well, you're a human now, and humans need to sleep," Sidney told him. "Eight hours a day. Then again, you are only part human, so I'm not sure if you need that much...um, what are you doing?"

Danny had lost interest in whatever Sidney was saying and had started rummaging around his room. Sidney got up and stopped him before he could pull open his underwear drawer. "Hey, just because I'm letting you stay over in my room doesn't mean you're free to search through my stuff! What are you searching for, anyway?"

"I told you yesterday," Danny said. "I need to make a call."

"The phone is right there, in case you haven't noticed," Sidney retorted and pointed at the telephone on his desk. But Danny shook his head.

"Phones can't contact the dead. Don't you have a ouija board? A crystal ball?"

Sidney's eyebrows rose to his scalp. "No? I'm not really into witchcraft. Maybe Desiree might have that stuff."

"Who's she?"

"A neighbor. But I'm not taking you to see her."

"Why not?"

"Because," Sidney said, "I need to go to school, and I don't trust you enough to let you roam around town unsupervised. How do I know you won't eat anyone's brains or anything?"

Danny huffed. "Why does everyone keep mistaking me for a zombie? I'm a ghost."

"You're a walking dead person who crawled out of his grave, that's why. Now can you just...stay put while I get ready for school?"

"School?" Danny asked, sounding interested.

Sidney rolled his eyes. "Yes, school. You know, where you learn stuff? I'm pretty sure those existed around your time."

"Of course I know what a school is," Danny replied, then hesitantly added, "Can I come?"

Sidney blinked. "You...want to come to school?"

Danny shrugged. "I'm curious about what new stuff students are learning since I was gone."

Despite himself, Sidney grinned. "I didn't know you were a fellow nerd."

"I'm not a nerd," Danny said, blushing. Sidney laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. Being a nerd is actually pretty cool these days."

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope. Dungeons and Dragons is hot. Star Trek is mainstream. You have a lot to catch up on."

Danny didn't look like he believed him, which only made Sidney laugh more. "Come on, I'll bring you to school."

Casper High hadn't changed much in forty years, although the student body did grow. Some of the students cast curious glances at Danny as Sidney led him through the crowded hallways, but they didn't say anything. Well, except for one.

"Who do we have here?" a voice purred. Sidney groaned and turned to face the speaker.

"Hey, Aragon," he greeted with a strained smile.

Aragon looked...not as intimidating as Danny expected. He was thin, with a pimple-ridden face and greasy hair, but his sneer was enough to signify that he was a bad guy.

Aragon sized up Danny and said, "I haven't seen you around."

"This is Danny, my, uh...cousin," Sidney lied. "He's..."

"Homeschooled," Danny supplied. "But I'm curious about what regular schools are like, so Sidney offered to show me around his school." He lied so effortlessly that Sidney wondered if he had practiced it beforehand.

Aragon snickered. "Homeschooled? That's probably because you're too wimpy to be around other kids. Hey, Poindexter, why don't you join your cousin at home? It's not like anyone will miss you."

Sidney bristled. He thought of numerous insults he could throw at the bully, and he almost might have said one out loud, but then Danny spoke up and said, "You're not scary."

Aragon blinked. "Excuse me? My dad can probably buy your dad's company."

"I doubt that," Danny muttered.

Aragon bristled and almost said something back, but then a girl came and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Leave them alone, Aaron," she told him.

Sidney smiled when he saw it was Dora. He loved Dora--she was basically the anti-Aragon, kind to everyone. She caught his eyes and smiled back.

Aragon shrugged her hand away and scowled. "Fuck off, Dora. I'm pretty sure that guy just insulted me."

"He just said you aren't scary," Dora said, "which is true."

Sidney snorted. Aragon turned on him, but before he could speak, his condescending posture dissolved at the sight of a woman coming up to them. "Miss Pandora!" he said, suddenly sounding polite.

The tallest human Danny had ever seen stood over them with her hands on her hips. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Aragon told her, and he actually wrapped his arm amiably around Danny's shoulders and said with a smile, "We were just greeting Sidney's cousin here."

She raised her eyebrow and noticed Danny. "Cousin, eh?"

"He's homeschooled," Sidney said helpfully.

"Well, then! It's very nice of you to show him around." The teacher smiled at Aragon, and it took Sidney considerable effort not to roll his eyes. Pandora added, "Maybe you can let him take a lesson with you. Class is just about to start, you know."

"Yes, ma'am," Aragon said with a white-toothed smile and saluted her. Pandora passed them, and as soon as she turned a corner and left, Aragon pushed Danny away from him.

"Have fun at school, fuckhead," he said and laughed. He left, and Dora turned to him with a grimace.

"I'm sorry about my brother," she apologized.

Danny shrugged. "He's...interesting."

"What the fuck!"

The three teens turned to see Johnny standing in the hallway, glaring at Danny with his jaw agape. He strode to him, then jabbed a finger at his chest and demanded, "What are you doing in my school?"

"Stop that," Dora said. "Why is everyone intent on bullying the visitor?"

Johnny stared at her with disbelief written all over his face. "You don't know what he is, do you?"

Dora looked confused, but Danny just smiled and said, "Hey, Johnny. Thanks for helping me last night."

Johnny scoffed. "I didn't help you. That was all Ember."

"True, but at least you didn't stop her."

"I'm sorry, what's happening?" Dora asked, glancing between them.

Johnny scowled and said, "He's a zombie."

"Ghost, actually," Danny corrected.

Dora stared at them for a moment, and then she burst with laughter. Johnny raised his eyebrows and saw her with a hand over her mouth, eyes crinkled humorously. "Ghost! Ha ha."

Johnny frowned and said, "It's not--"

"It's a very funny joke!" Sidney interrupted. "I bet he even crawled out his grave."

He smirked at Dora as he said this, and Dora laughed harder. Sidney felt Johnny's eyes boring into him, but thankfully, the school bell chose that moment to ring. Dora wiped tears from her eyes and said to Danny, "Have a nice day, ghost boy."

"Will do," Danny replied with a toothy grin.

Dora left, but Johnny stuck behind. He sent a glare at Danny and stated, "I don't trust the undead." Then he turned to Sidney and added, "You shouldn't, either."

The way his eyes bore into him made goosebumps break out on Sindney's skin. Finally, Johnny turned and left, his shadow trailing behind him.

"What a great guy," Danny said after he was gone. Sidney tried to study his expression, but Danny was wearing an unreadably simple smile, and his hands were in his pockets. Danny's blue eyes met Sidney. "So, where's your class?"

Fuck, Ember thought as she sped down the hallway. She was late for class and Ms. Pandora was gonna kill her. She turned a corner, then stopped so suddenly she almost slipped on the linoleum floor.

The man in front of her turned around. He was wearing sunglasses indoors for some reason. On his chest sat a sherrif badge, and in his hand was her guitar. She had no idea what was with the glasses, but it obviously wasn't enough to stop her from recognizing him, nor quell her anxiety at his presence.

"You," he grunted, which erased any chance she had of escaping unnoticed.

Ember gulped and waved nervously. "Heyyy, Sheriff Walker. What are you doing here?"

Walker held forward her guitar. "Is this yours?"

Oh boy. Ember began to explain, "I swear, I didn't rob that grave. Heck, why would I even be in the graveyard? I don't know how this got there, you must have seen someone else--"

Walker ignored her and shoved the guitar at her. Then, to her surprise, he said, "Take it. I have no interest in it."

Walker? Letting someone go when he had a chance to arrest them? Ember eyed him and asked, "Who are you and what have you done to Walker?"

She had meant it as a joke, but the way he stiffened made her reconsider the truth of her statement. He said, "I don't care what happens to you, human," which Ember thought was a strange choice of words, "I only wish to know where the escapee is."

"The what?"

Walker (if that even was him) turned his attention away from her and focused on the hallway behind her. Now that Ember listened, she heard footsteps approach. She turned around and saw Sidney and...was that Danny? What was he doing in school?

Danny seemed to freeze up at the sight of Walker. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw his breath turn to mist as it escaped his mouth, which shouldn't have been possible because it wasn't cold enough inside the building. His eyes widened.

When she looked back at who may or may not have been Walker, she saw his face stretched in an unnerving grin. He walked around her and strode toward Danny, who somehow got stiffer the closer Walker got to him.

Ember didn't understand what was going on, but she knew enough to be able to tell that this not-Walker was bad news (yes, even worse than the real Walker) and that Danny seemed to be, for whatever reason, in danger. She shoved herself between not-Walker and Danny and said, "So, Sheriff, how's life?"

Not-Walker growled and shoved her away. Yep, that definitely was not Walker. Danny saw that he wasn't stopping and began to run away, but not-Walker grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

It didn't feel right, seeing the undead guy look so scared. Ember barely thought about her next action. She looked down at her guitar, remembered how good a weapon it made when she whacked Danny in the head last night, and swung it at the back of not-Walker's head. Not-Walker grunted and let go of Danny. His glasses fell to the floor, and when he turned around to glare at her, she froze--because his eyes were as red as blood. Ember was fairly certain that Walker's eyes were supposed to be green.

"Ember, get away! He's a ghost!" Danny warned.

Ember stared wide-eyed at Danny, and that was long enough for not-Walker's fist to connect with her gut and send her toppling backward. He didn't just punch her--he also sent a strange beam of green light that made her body buzz with electricity and sent her skidding across the hallway. She fell over and clutched her stomach, wheezing. She weakly raised her head enough to watch not-Walker grab Danny again and lift him up by his neck. Sidney was next to them, but he looked too paralyzed to help, and Ember was in too much pain to get up.

"Danny Phantom--" Danny Phantom? "--I see you're alive," not-Walker said with a sneer.

Danny quit struggling in not-Walker's grip long enough to gulp. "Alive? Nah. I'm just overshadowing someone, like you are."

"You think you can lie to me? I know what overshadowing senses like. You're alive." His cheeks looked like they were pulled back by invisible strings into a cruel smirk, and he added, "But if you're really only borrowing this body, then I suppose killing it won't do anything to you, would it?"

His grip around Danny's neck tightened, and Danny's struggling became strained. Why couldn't he just go intangible? Sidney looked like he finally snapped out of his paralysis, and he ran forward to help Danny with a yell of, "Let him go!" Unfortunately, he was quickly pushed back by the same weird light that attacked Ember.

"You're mortals," not-Walker growled. "You don't understand the laws that govern ghosts. The dead stay dead. Ressurecting oneself is a major crime--against the laws of the Ghost Zone and the laws of nature."

Cool, so it wasn't Walker, but he sure as hell was equally obsessed with arresting people. Or, well...executing them was more like it, if he continued to squeeze Danny's throat any longer. (Re-executing? What would happen if you die a second time?)

Ember gritted her teeth and pushed herself up. She may have only known Danny for less than a day, but there was no way she was letting the weirdest friend she'd had disappear so soon after she met him.

Without a second thought, she ran up to not-Walker, ignoring the pain in her gut, and shouted, "Hey, dipstick!" Not-Walker turned around but did not have time to prepare when her boot swung up and connected with his crotch.

Not-Walker cringed. Ember wasn't sure if the ghost was able to feel pain from inside Walker's body (probably not, because she was confident in the power of her kick) but the shock of being kicked in the private part was enough to loosen his grip on Danny. Danny, now able to breathe, took this opportunity to thrust his hand into not-Walker's face, and before she could blink, a bright burst of green light not unlike not-Walker's own attacks was released from his palm and roasted Walker's face.

Apparently, the ghost did feel pain from that, because he yowled and let go of Danny. Danny didn't waste any time after he landed before grabbing Ember and Sidney by the arms and sprinting down the hallway and around a corner, away from not-Walker's sight.

Danny kept running, pulling the two humans behind him. She didn't know how long they went--lockers and windows passed by in a blur--before he apparently thought they were far enough from the ghost possessing Walker and let go of their arms to slump on the floor and pant.

"Okay, what was that?" Sidney demanded.

"Yeah, and why did that guy call you Danny Phantom?" Ember added.

Danny didn't answer them at first, still catching his breath. Finally, he gulped and said, "So, that was the ghost police."

"I kind of figured," Ember said, remembering the ghost's words. "Resurrecting yourself is illegal?"

"Of course it is," Sidney said, staring at Danny, and Ember thought she saw a hint of wildness in his eyes. "It's unnatural! You're supposed to be dead!"

Danny flinched. Ember bit her lip and placed a hand on Sidney's shoulder. "Hey, man. What's done is done. Danny's alive now."

Sidney kept huffing for a moment before he covered his face with a hand and sighed. "No. I know. It's just...I wasn't expecting to be a attacked by a ghost-possessed Walker today."

"I mean, you did bring Danny to school," Ember pointed out. "Why did you bring Danny to school?"

"I asked to come," Danny answered.

"Why would you want to come to school? Are you a nerd?"

Danny looked about to argue, but then Sidney spoke up, "That's not important. That ghost inside Walker is still around. How do we get rid of him?"

Danny hummed thoughtfully. "Usually, in the Ghost Zone, we just duke it out with ghost powers, but I don't think that would work when I'm part human."

It was then that Ember finally noticed the way Danny was cradling his hands tenderly. She looked at his palm and saw it filled with slightly greenish blisters. Danny caught her looking and covered his palms, but she had already seen them. Guess that ghostly light attack was too hot for a human body to handle.

"Then what do we do?" Sidney asked.

Danny shrugged. "Maybe...are there myths about ghost weaknesses? Usually those have a little truth in them."

"What, you mean like, sprinkle salt on him?" Ember said with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe," Danny said. "I--"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when a blur came through the wall behind them, grabbed Danny, and went through the opposite wall. Ember and Sidney both stared slack-jawed as they tried to make sense of what just happened.

"Ghost," Sidney said.

"Salt," Ember said. "I'll go to the cafeteria."

"I think I also have something that might help," Sidney said. "I'll go get that."

There was no time for Ember to ask what thing Sidney had that might work against a ghost. The two teens separated and ran down different directions, Ember to the school cafeteria. She arrived to find it empty apart from the lunch lady behind the counter.

The lunch lady was humming to herself as she cooked...whatever the fuck school lunches were supposed to be. Ember tried to crouch near the wall and sneak into the kitchen. If she was lucky, she could grab the salt and dash without any confrontation...but she had no suck luck.

The humming stopped, and Lunch Lady said, "What are you doing outside of class?"

Ember closed her eyes and silently muttered a few curses before standing up in front of Lunch Lady with a smile. "Sorry. I just wanted to grab some salt...for a lab experiment."

"Salt? We have salt," Lunch Lady said sweetly.

"Great! I'd love some, please."

Lunch Lady grabbed a salt container, and Ember reached out for it eagerly, but the woman held it back with a frown. "If it's for a science class, why were you trying to sneak past me?"

"Me? Sneaking? I would never," Ember said, her smile straining. "I just thought it would be quicker...you know...so I don't waste any class time."

"Of course your teachers wouldn't want you to waste class time. That's why they're supposed to bring their own materials for experiments. I talked to them about that last year."

Ember winced. "They...forgot?" When Lunch Lady seemed unconvinced, Ember brought her hands together in a pleading gesture and said, "Please, I just want some salt. It won't even be long. I'll give it back."

Lunch Lady narrowed her eyes, like she was considering Ember's words. "Salt is a very important part of food, you know. Salt and meat."

Ember quirked an eyebrow. "I thought too much salt is a bad thing. Same with too much fatty meat."

She probably should have kept quiet. Lunch Lady's expression turned into a scowl, and she all but screeched, "Are you questioning my nutritional knowledge?"

Ember had met ghosts, but somehow, this lunch lady was more terrifying. Ember faltered and stammered, "Um, uh..."

She was saved by the large dirt explosion outside. Lunch Lady jumped and leaned forward, trying to look out the window with wide eyes. The salt container in her hand was in reach.

Ember snatched the salt from her and darted. Lunch Lady yelled at her, but Ember was already running away...toward the explosion she heard come from the track field outside. Somehow, she had a feeling that had something to do with Danny and that other ghost.

She emerged outdoors, and sure enough, Danny lay in a crater in the ground, looking worse for wear. Then Ember looked up at the enemy ghost and did a double take. Walker's body must have been left back inside the school, because the ghost wasn't possessing him anymore, which meant she could see his true, ghostly form.

Being near him set her hairs on edge and filled her with dull dread. He was glowing. His edges were blurry, like an old photograph. His skin was bright green and translucent, showing his skull underneath. He wore a suit that looked like it should have been black but was bleached white, and white sunglasses covered his eyes, although Ember had a feeling they were the same red shade that possessed-Walker had.

The ghost hovered over Danny's bruised form. Danny weakly pushed himself on his elbows, wincing all the way, and said, "Can't we talk about this, Operative?"

The ghost, Operative, retorted, "Sure, once you're in jail."

He aimed a hand at Danny, and Ember could tell he was about to attack. She ran toward him, shouted, "Hey! Want some salt with that?" and swung the salt at him.

Operative flinched--then blinked when the salt went through him without any effect. Ember faltered. "So...salt doesn't work."

"Salt?" Operative smirked. "I've heard about that. It has to be blessed to work against ghosts. And it must be pure salt, not table salt."

"Well, fuck," Ember muttered.

She shrieked and ducked out of the way as Operative ghost-blasted the spot where she stood. While she hit the grass, the ghost turned back to Danny and held him up by the neck. Danny was too weak to even struggle in his grip.

Just as Ember was beginning to lose hope, she saw Sidney enter her field of vision. Ember scrambled to her feet and joined him in running toward the ghost. "What did you get?" she asked.

Sidney, poor non-athletic nerd that he was, was panting too much from the process of sprinting as fast as he could to really talk, but he didn't need to. He stopped a short distance away from Operative and held up the object he brought for everyone to see: a reflective silver mirror.

Operative turned his head away from Danny for a moment to look at the mirror. "What is that? Do you want me to see my reflection?"

Ember was wondering about his plan, too. A mirror didn't sound very useful against ghosts. Even Sidney looked uncertain of himself, his knees knocking together in terror.

To his credit, he bravely ignored his fear and ran screaming at the ghost, swinging his mirror right down at him. She thought she saw the ghost's eyes widen at the last moment before he disappeared right into the mirror, somehow sucked up by the silver. Danny fell on his butt as Operative was gone.

Ember picked up her jaw and asked, "What was that?!"

"I have no idea," Sidney admitted, still wide-eyed from the fact his plan worked. "I just remembered hearing some stories about silver working against werewolves and vampires and guessed it must do something about ghosts, too."

"That was brilliant," Danny said, smiling from his spot on the ground. He was bruised all over and had second degree burns on his palms, but other than that, he seemed fine.

Now that the big scary ghost was gone and Ember's heartbeat was settling, she crossed her arms at Danny and said, "You didn't answer my question from earlier. Danny Phantom?"

"Right," Danny said, reaching to rub his neck then stopping when that made him wince. "Ghosts don't usually use each others' real names. It's...personal, I guess. So everyone goes by a nickname."

"That's why you don't like us calling you Daniel Fenton," Ember said, remembering the way he flinched when he got called that in the graveyard and at Sidney's--the same way he flinched just now as she said that.

"Yeah," he said. "That ghost we just fought, Operative...well, he's lucky because no one even knows his real name. He worked with the government back when he was alive. Everyone just calls him by his title--or the Guy in White."

"That makes sense, considering how blindingly white his suit was."

Sidney suddenly yelped, and Ember turned toward him to see that he had dropped his mirror onto the ground. She looked down at it and understood why. A swirling fog appeared on its surface before it morphed into the Guy in White's face.

She jumped when the ghost brought a fist forward and at pounded at the mirror's surface--but the mirror didn't even vibrate, much less fracture. He continued to pound uselessly and growled, "You can't keep me in this relic forever. Just as you can't escape your punishment. You're upsetting the balance between life and death. You--"

Sidney crouched and flipped the mirror over so that its reflective surface was lying face down against the dirt. The Guy in White's voice was muffled.

Danny crawled to them and struggled to push himself up. Ember went to his side and helped him stand, and as soon as he did, she recoiled and asked, "Where did your bruises go?"

Most of them were gone, and she watched as the ones that did remain seemed to glow green before fading away. Ember stepped away from him, and he stayed stable on his feet. "Healing," he said. "Injuries aren't permanent to ghosts. I guess I kept that part of me when I got resurrected."

"You brought yourself back from the dead," Sidney said. Ember turned to him and saw him staring at the mirror he had just flipped over. "That ghost mentioned something about balance."

"Dude, the Guy in White is just ghost Walker," Ember said. "He probably comes up with any lame excuse to jail people."

"But maybe he has a point," Sidney argued, glaring at Ember--and at Danny. "What makes you special enough to get ressurected? Why not everyone else who died--like my parents?"

"Sid--"

"No, he's right," Danny said. He hung his head guiltily, gazing down at his hands. The burns on his palms seemed to take longer to heal. "This was a mistake. I thought I could get my parents' invention to work--and I did--but I didn't think about the consequences. Maybe they gave up on it for a reason."

Ember tilted her head. "So...what? You kill yourself again?"

Danny bit his lip and shrugged. "I...I don't know."

Ember glanced between him and Sidney, who was shuffling in place uncomfortably. She thinned her lips and stood straight. "Well, I'm not letting you do that," she said to Danny. "I don't care if you were dead before. You're alive now."

"Technically, I'm only half alive," Danny mumbled. "I still have some ghostly attributes, but..." He glanced uncertainly at Sidney.

Sidney fidgeted, then crossed his arms and sighed. "I guess...if you're human now...there's no point in going against that. You may as well enjoy your time back. I'll accept that. No need to kill yourself."

Danny's shoulders relaxed. Sidney still had his arms crossed, but he didn't look as angry anymore. The muffled voice of the Guy in White still came from the upside-down mirror on the ground.

Ember prodded the mirror with her foot. "So, what do we do with him?"

"Break the mirror?" Sidney suggested.

"No," Danny said. "Who knows if that would get rid of him. It might just release him again."

"I still don't get how he even got here," Sidney said.

Danny shrugged. "A portal? Though, it seems a little convenient that a natural portal would open up right after I got revived..."

"Or maybe he followed you back to the human world," Ember said.

"But he's not alive..." Danny's eyes widened. "Unless--"

He grabbed the mirror off the ground and began to run.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sidney shouted.

Danny turned back to face them. "My revival must have opened a permanent portal," he told them. "I'm going to send Operative back to the Ghost Zone, and I'm going to see my parents."

"A portal? But where?"

Danny met Ember's eyes, and he knew the same thought went through their heads. "My grave," he said. Then he turned around and kept running.

Sidney and Ember glanced at each other in bewilderment. Then Ember shouted, "Wait up!" and ran after Danny.

"Wait! But what about school!" Sidney shouted.

Fuck school, Ember thought. Ghosts, zombies, portals--ever since Danny entered her life, her days became exciting, and there was no way she was missing any second of this.

#phic phight #danny phantom #species swap #au #fic #fanfiction #writing #mine #danny fenton #sidney poindexter #ember mclain

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abominablepencil · 5 years

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I wanna yell all this into the void real quick if it’s cool with y’all

My school “career” really sucked. I probably blocked out a few of the events but I’m gonna write down what I can recall. Not all of these will be bad, by the way, just stories. If you don’t wanna read a bunch of school stories then that’s fine I just wanna share this. If you have similar stories I’d love to read em though!

Let’s start in elementary school.

- There was a boy I liked in kindergarten, but he didn’t like me back. We were both in the am class at the start of the year but for some reason he kept switching between am and pm so I of course asked my mom to swap me as well to match. This went on for maybe a month if I had to guess, switching weekly, before my mom said no more. We wound up being in different classes but ah well.

- The class was making gingerbread men for Christmas but they had to bake while we were out at recess, when we got back they were gone! The teachers put on an act about not knowing where they’d gone before leading us on a scavenger hunt around the school, finally ending at the principals office. He pretended to be surprised we made them and apologized for apparently eating all of them. We each made at least one and we were a class of 20-30 so I have no idea what actually happened to those or why but it was still fun!

- During class one day I fell asleep at my desk and when I woke up everyone was doing tests, mine was sitting next to me. I don’t recall the specifics but I recall casually saying “I’m gay”, feeling embarrassed, and then starting my test without anyone noticing. I meant in the definition “happy” and not “homosexual” though because I was maybe six and knew of nothing more relationship wise than what I saw in Aladdin and the Aristocats.

Switch to the second elementary school

- We had a bunch of classes in the portables and there was a loose board along the side of the wooden deck between them. I found it amazingly amusing to just hide under there and look for treasure! The faculty didn’t, however, and they had to bolt it shut so I’d stop breaking in and crawling around under the classrooms. I found Pokémon cards and foreign coins down there!

- I caused so much trouble at school the principal decided maybe letting me bring a toy would make me behave. She let me bring one small stuffed animal to school each day and play with it in the covered area at recess. This wasn’t really monitored, however, and my teacher was new so I got around it by bringing a marionette. If the class behaved I got to do a puppet show before recess, where I’d make the marionette sing phineas and ferb songs while dancing on a table.

- There was a boy who constantly picked on me but had a soft spot for girls crying. Whenever I was stressed out I’d hide in the tiny space between the top of the CPUs and the table the monitors sat on. He’d try and lure me out by being rude but when I started crying he’d apologize and leave me alone. This worked out well for me, it was really comfy in my hiding spot.

- As prior mentioned my teacher was new and didn’t know how to handle the class yet, and I was a troublemaker. She tried moving me to a private table to do spelling tests but I made forts out of math textbooks and folders. She then tried having me do spelling tests on the computers in Microsoft word. That program has spellcheck, guess who never failed a spelling test!

- During state testing to see where everyone was knowledge wise in fourth grade I tested at an eighth grade level. The teachers took note of that. The next year they decided I wasn’t being challenged enough so they let me decide if I wanted to learn basic algebra with my class or join the sixth graders in an advanced algebra class. I accepted the offer and took the entire class period to play with my marionette instead of learning the weird ways to do math that made no sense to me at all. Eventually that teacher decided I wasn’t paying enough attention and swapped me back to my regular class but that wasn’t till after they’d already learned the basics, meaning I was started in an advanced class and then dumped into the middle of the regular one. Algebra makes absolutely no sense to me to this day and I obstinately refuse to use PEMDAS.

- One day I was particularly upset for no particular reason that I can recall so I hid under the table as per usual until lunch time came. The teacher demanded I come out and go to lunch with the class but I refused and demanded to stay under the table alone because I just couldn’t bear to be seen. That of course didn’t fly because she couldn’t legally leave a child alone in the classroom, nor send the others to lunch unsupervised. This lead to one of many occurrences where a specific sixth grade teacher and whichever other male teacher was available dragging me to the nurses office for time out. The first hooking his arms under my armpits and putting them over the lower half of my face, the second holding my feet. It was always that first teacher because he was used to me gnawing on his arms the entire ten minute walk. This particular time I was instead taken to the teachers lounge because I was kicking and screaming and throwing a tantrum. They called another truant officer to help while they contacted a family member to come get me. I was held captive in that room for 30-60 minutes, either restrained to a teacher in a chair or pinned to the floor by the officer so I wouldn’t run. The entire time I screamed as loud as I could and, while pinned down, yelled that my arms and legs were numb. They didn’t release me till they got my grampa there and then they drove me to his retirement home. I never went back to that school. I went to therapy though, they had dogs and talked about club penguin with me.

And now my third elementary school

- Right before WASL testing started in fifth grade I switched schools. When I was finally processed into a class they were in the middle of the testing so I had to just sit around and make it up during remedial testing. During one day of that, while all ten or so of us were sitting in the computer lab doing the test, I noticed a balloon sitting behind a CPU near me. Instead of ignoring it I chose to try and grab it. The teacher got mad at that and told me to do the testing so I tried but quickly got distracted again. I think at this point she went to get the principal or something so I took my chance to bolt from the room! I ran to the bathroom and hid. The teacher found me quickly and demanded I get out of the bathroom, but I refused. She threatened to get the janitor to come take the stall door off it’s hinges so she could get me cause I wouldn’t unlock it but still I sat defiant. So she left. I waited a minute or so after her footsteps stopped and creeped out, guess who was behind the bathroom door! She tried to grab me but I ducked and ran down the stairs, out the cafeteria doors, to the playground, around to the front parking lot, and down the street to my grandmas house. They grabbed a truancy officer and came into my grandmas backyard to try and coax me out and back to school. I refused to until all the teachers were back in their cars and it was just the officer. Big trouble came my way that day, and it all started with a half deflated balloon!

- At this school if you misbehaved you went in one of the time out closets. They weren’t that bad. Just two cubbies without doors in the office, each had a desk, chair, and a motivational poster. I spent a lot of time in them. It was nice and quiet in there.

- My second fifth grade teacher didn’t like when kids farted during class. She always said it was a distraction and that if you had to do so then ask to use the restroom and do so in there. However if you asked to use the restroom she’d ask why you didn’t go at recess and told you to hold it till the next one.

- Did you know that different schools teach drastically different curriculums? Cause I didn’t till I switched mid-year. I went from being taught algebra to being taught about “Big One” and basic multiplication. In fifth grade. It really wasn’t that useful and only lead to confusion.

This is getting really long so I’ll do middle school in a new post!

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red-streaks · 6 years

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millie and her youtube channel

mildred has 300 followers on her youtube channel. it’s mostly videos of her responding to challenges, imitating HB, and doing tutorial videos for potions that went wrong once. Sybil comments on every single one. Enid calls herself the producer.

an idea discussed in the worst witch chat, bear with me.

A black screen. There is no sound for several seconds, but then a thump, a giggle, and a long-suffering sigh of an eleven-year-old who is breaking about ten school rules.

“Is it rolling? Cut! Action!” Enid Nightshade’s voice cuts through the darkness. Another thump, followed by a high-pitched sound.

“The light’s green, Enid,” Maud sighs again. “Millie said that means it’s on, right Millie?”

“Right,” Mildred Hubble’s voice is barely audible over the static. “But you’ve got the lens on, and you’re covering the microphone.”

“Bats,” Enid murmurs. One final thump. The video ends, suddenly, before restarting again and focusing shakily on a smiling Mildred.

“There we go. Millie, say hi!” Enid shouts too close to the camera, and the image shakes and shakes until Mildred’s nostril takes up the entire frame.

“Not so close, Enid,” Mildred says, but the camera catches her grin, just visible in the corner of the frame as Enid backs away.

“Just zoom in from where you were standing,” Maud says quietly, and the camera moves quickly through the room, cauldrons and desks and dark jars blurring together as Enid swings the camera to Maud, who is standing guard by the door.

“How do I zoom in again?” Enid asks again, shaking the camera. Maud’s face comes in and out of focus.

“With that little button up at the top.” Mildred’s voice is heard out of shot. “No, not that one, the other –.“

A black screen. Enid Nightshade’s shoes suddenly come into focus. One of her shoelaces are untied.

“Alright, take three, then.” Enid says, and the camera swings around until Enid’s right eyebrow takes up the entire frame. “I’m Enid Nightshade, witchiest witch at Cackle’s Academy. Maud Spellbody eats slugs for breakfast and Mildred Hubble still sleeps with her – .”

A thump. A shriek. The camera shakes violently.

A black screen.

“Take four,” Maud Spellbody’s voice accompanies a shaking frame, focused on the frowning face of Enid Nightshade. Her shoulders are slumped. “Enid has been demoted to guard dog, until she’s proven to be a responsible camera woman.”

Enid Nightshade sticks her tongue out, arms crossed over her chest.

“Can we start, please? HB’s gonna start making her rounds soon.” Mildred’s voice, out of shot again.

The camera zooms in to Enid Nightshade’s left eye and stays there for several seconds. “Gross,” Maud says, and laughs out loud.

“How come she gets to be camera-woman, Mildred?” Enid shouts. Her eye disappears from screen rather rapidly. “Give it here!”

The camera shakes as Maud runs from Enid. It follows Maud’s feet as she jumps up a step. A shriek. Mildred Hubble’s groan, heard above the screech of the chairs Maud hastily moves over.

Maud’s breathes heavily over the microphone.

“I swear to God – .“Mildred’s voice.

A black screen.

“Okay,” Mildred Hubble’s cheery voice is heard behind the camera. Enid and Maud come into focus, both girls glaring at each other when the other isn’t looking. “Take five!”

Mildred’s skirt appears in front of the camera, her sash knotted haphazardly. She adjusts the camera and backs away, bends at the waist sideways until her head and hanging braids are in the frame.

“Perfect,” she straightens up, rounds the table and stands between Maud and Enid. There’s a cauldron in front of them. All of their faces, except Enid’s chin, are out of the frame.

Mildred clears her throat.

“Welcome to my channel! I’m Mildred Hubble, and these are my friends, Maud and Enid!” She elbows each of them until they both give out half-hearted greetings. “Today, we’re going to be making a Level Three potion – a sleeping drought -- because several of you commented that you’d like to see it done.”

“And because we messed up the one we were supposed to finish in class today,” Enid’s chin moves in the shot.

“And because we’re being tested on it tomorrow,” Maud’s ponytails swing back and forth, the ends just barely visible as she’s the tallest of the three of them.

“Okay,” Mildred claps her hands. “First, we have to set the cauldron to 45 degrees -.”

“It’s 60 degrees, Millie.”

“Right. I’ll just edit that part out later.” She begins again.

The air crackles. There’s a pop somewhere outside of the shot.

“Mildred Hubble. Enid Nightshade. Maud Spellbody.” A fourth voice, out of frame. The camera suddenly suspends in air, and the terrified faces of the three girls are perfectly captured before the camera flies backwards at a terrifying speed. “Using unsupervised magic and non-magical devices. Why am I not surprised.”

Mildred drops the ladle in her hand. Her mouth drops open.

“Uh,” Mildred stutters. The camera shakes again, and Miss Hardbroom’s legs are suddenly in the shot. A muffled harrumph!, the shake of the camera, and then Miss Hardbroom’s sneer takes up the whole shot.

“What have I told you about such devices inside the castle?” Miss Hardbroom’s voice booms. A very large eye peers straight into the camera, before backing away.

“Shit,” Enid murmurs out of shot. A strange strangled noise comes out of Miss Hardbroom. A sharp inhale. The creak of plastic. The camera shakes very, very violently.

A black screen.

Silence for a couple of minutes.

“But, but it helps us learn! And we’re only practicing for tomorrow! Perhaps, if you supervised us…”

“Enid Nightshade, I can see you recording!” A blurry image of Miss Hardbroom looming over Mildred in front of her cauldron.

A squeak from Enid Nightshade.

A black screen.

“Alrighty then!” Mildred Hubble’s voice sounds extra chipper. “Welcome to my channel! I’m Mildred Hubble, and this is Maud, one of my best friends, and this is our special guest for today’s episode, Miss Hardbroom!”

There is darkness for several seconds, before Enid’s soft “Oh, wait,” is heard behind the camera. There’s a rustle, and the room suddenly comes into view.

“Uh, try that again, Millie,” Enid says. The camera slips from her hands briefly, a thump, and another, and the room goes spinning. “From the top!”

“Welcome to my channel, I’m Millie, this is Maud, and this is Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred rushes out, looking annoyed.

“Miss Hardbroom,” Enid hisses loudly, and the camera shakes again. Enid’s hand comes into view as she motions jerkily. “Step into the frame.”

Miss Hardbroom’s shoulder appears. Enid sighs.

“More.”

An awkward looking Miss Hardbroom takes one very careful step towards Mildred. Her shoulders are tense and she’s staring at the camera with large, round eyes that make her look both terrifying and terrified.

“I am Miss Hardbroom,” her voice is very grave. Maud cringes and there’s a stifled giggle from behind the camera.

“You don’t have to re-introduce yourself, Miss Hardbroom,” Maud explains, shaking her head.. “Mildred already did that for you.”

“I’d rather introduce myself.” She slowly walks out of the frame again, one shuffle at a time, never breaking eye contact with the camera and her arms very stiff by her sides.

“Let’s just….let’s starts over.”

A black screen.

“Hi! Millie, here, with Maud and Miss Hardbroom! Oh, wait –.“

Three groans.

A black screen.

“Hi, I’m Mildred, this is Maud and this is –“

“I am Miss Hardbroom.”

“You have to step into the frame, HB!”

“Enid Nightshade, you are one more disrespectful comment away from earning yourself a week of detention!”

“This is my literal nightmare,” Maud whispers, bringing her palm against her forehead. “Just zoom out!”

“Oh, right.”

The camera zooms out. Miss Hardbroom comes into focus, looking very uncomfortable and like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

“We’ll be making a sleeping drought with Miss Hardbroom today. As always, don’t forget to subscribe below!” Mildred points to the ground and dances about a little. Miss Hardbroom’s lips could not turn down further if she tried.

“We’ll start by heating the cauldron to 60 degrees and measuring out bee’s brain.” Mildred continues.

“You’ll want to chop them up into smaller pieces, if possible.” Miss Hardbroom says tersely, almost as if the words are being pulled painfully from her mouth.

She looks straight at the lens as she materializes a jar of bee’s brain and presents it awkwardly to the camera, head turning to the side as if to capture her best angle.

The camera shakes and beeps.

“Uh, Millie? You said your mom lent you the charger, right?”

“A red light has appeared on your camera, Mildred Hubble.”

“Bats, is it running out of batte –.“

A black screen.

#the worst witch #listen this is self indulgent shit and i love it with all my heart #hecate hardbroom #mildred hubble #maud spellbody #enid nightshade #tww: 2017 #qq

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necromantic13 · 6 years

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[5] Moira O’Deorain - Game Point

PART FIVE of SPIDERFIGHTS. This is the last installation of Moira vs. Sombra/Widowmaker. Let’s get deep into some sabotage, shall we?

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Sombra plays her favorite game. She is very, very good at it.

“I’m worried about Lacroix,” Moira said, sipping at her drink while Akande looked over his computer. That morning, Sombra had seen her making her way toward his office, and in a decision born of caprice and bitterness, decided to follow her.

Now the hacker found herself pressed awkwardly against the wall by the door, listening to Moira talk with her boss and wondering what fresh level of shit she was about to land herself in.

Moira, ever a picture of poise and composure under the pressure of inventing new ways to ruin lives, steepled her fingers as Akande pursed his lips, saved his work, and looked up at her.

“How do you mean?” he asked, face impassive as ever. Sombra still couldn’t read him reliably, which was probably why he was the boss.

“She and your new hacker have become,” Moira paused, nails pressed against her chin, “close.”

Akande shrugged, unconcerned. “It does not matter to me what they do in their spare time so long as they still do their jobs. Lacroix can still hit a man between the eyes from 500 feet and Sombra delivers better intel than anyone I have ever worked with. Their performance does not suffer. In some aspects, it has even become more reliable.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair to regard the woman before him. “I fail to see the problem.”

“With all due respect, Akande, the entire purpose of Lacroix’s reconditioning was to remove the capacity for emotional connection. If she’s somehow establishing one with this Sombra, well,” she shrugged, hands raised in helplessness. “Isn’t it only a matter of time before the rest of the house comes crumbling down?”

Akande’s eyes shifted ever so slightly as he mulled over Moira’s words, and Sombra felt as though she had ice in her veins as her mind raced to beat the geneticist's request to its inevitable conclusion.

“What are you suggesting, Moira?” Akande asked, hands clasped professionally before him.

“Let me reevaluate her. Let me make sure there are no cracks in the glass, so to speak.” Moira smiled, her expression sharp like a reptile’s. Sombra bit her lower lip to keep from calling her bluff, checking her camo to make certain it was still active.

Akande sighed, but Sombra could see that he was considering her argument. “If Lacroix consents to it,” he said at last, “then I can see no harm in it.” He pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up, indicating it was time for Moira to leave. “I expect you to comport yourself professionally?”

“Akande,” Moira purred, bowing in an overblown display of regality. “Have I ever deceived you?”

Akande grunted noncommittally and Moira took her leave. As the door closed slowly behind her, Sombra slipped out carefully in her wake.

She sped across the mansion, making it from the offices to the kitchen before dropping her camo and taking a breath. So this was how Moira O’Deorain played? She had almost - almost - seen it coming, and in the light of this development, felt the familiar spark of confidence take hold in her soul.

Now she understood the rules of the game, and Moira had unknowingly moved the pieces onto her side of the board.

“My move, doc.”

“Please, Widow. I - I know I’m asking a lot.”

“You are,” was the sniper’s somber reply. She was perusing the endless, ancient collection of books held in the vast library of the Venetian mansion, looking for some dry tome she’d yet to crack open. Sombra kept offering to download her any electronic source she might want, but the spider always declined, preferring to spend hours among the dusty books looking for something to help pass the time.

“She’s not going to stop if you object,” Sombra pressed, following her down the row of books she was scanning. “She might even use it as ammo to make you do it later on, and then I don’t know if I can help.” She had promised to keep her in the loop; promised to continue watching her back and let her know if the geneticist had any machinations in the works. It didn’t make the conversation any easier.

“What does she intend on doing?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Not in detail. Just that she wants to check for ‘cracks in the glass,’” Sombra replied, rolling her eyes. “I assume run a diagnostic. At least that’s what I would do with a program I thought might be running faulty.”

“I am not a computer program,” Widow replied, a familiar bitterness creeping into her tone.

“I know that,” Sombra said, placing an apologetic hand on the small of her back, “but Moira certainly thinks you are.”

Widow had no response to that; the geneticist had demonstrably proven, over and over, that she viewed Widowmaker as a project of her own creation rather than a woman whose life she had irreparably altered. “What if the data shows something?” she asked, concern floating behind her eyes, hidden by her hold on apathy. “I have...I feel. Sometimes.”

“Do you trust me?” Sombra asked, tugging at Widowmaker’s hand and prompting her to make eye contact.

“I hate it when you ask me that,” she frowned, impassive.

“Yeah but do you?” she asked again.

“Yes.”

“Then let me do what I do best.”

Widowmaker raised an eyebrow. “Get yourself into trouble?”

Sombra smirked. “No - figure it out as I go along.” Widowmaker smiled weakly, tired beyond reason, stress affecting her in ways different from most people, but affecting her nonetheless. “I don’t know what she has in mind, but I have my suspicions, and I swear to god I’ll shoot her in the head before I watch her rewind you.”

Widowmaker laughed at this, and Sombra frowned, surprised at the response.

“You will have to beat me to it, cherie,” she said, and Sombra grinned as she leaned forward to kiss her.

Widowmaker sat in a large metal chair flanked by flat screen and hard light monitors spanning nearly every color of the rainbow. Moira had rigged her up to an EKG machine designed to, as she patronizingly explained to Widowmaker, track her emotional responses to stimuli and questions. Akande had joined them as well, which spoke volumes as to how much he trusted her to work unsupervised with his prize assassin. Sombra hadn’t accounted for his presence, but that’s why she didn’t like to make plans: they always got gunked up in the thick of it and had to be reworked on the fly, anyway, so why waste the time?

That plus she hadn’t entirely narrowed down what her point of focus was yet. The room was filled with tech; a den of temptation, and despite the rather dire circumstances presented, it took all Sombra’s willpower not to hack into every single beeping metal object in the room. Moira couldn’t have booby-trapped the place better if she’d tried: she felt like a kid in a candy store being told that she could only pick one thing to eat.

Luckily, after surveying the room for a bit, she was pretty sure she knew what that thing was.

Sombra stood perched in the back, balanced on a mostly-empty table of unemptied boxes that she was wagering on Moira not requiring the use of, as the doctor fussed over Widow’s neural connections and began to get a baseline on her readout.

“What is your name?” Widowmaker looked at her askance; Moira amended her question. “What was your name?”

“Amélie. Lacroix, maiden name Guillard.”

The machine flashed, a low tone emanating. Moira seemed pleased; Akande seemed nonplussed, allowing the doctor space to work with his oversight.

“Who is your employer?”

“I work for Talon.”

“And what is your role?”

“I am an assassin; a sniper.”

Sombra watched the proceedings from her vantage point, less interested in the content of her questions and more in watching the rapid flow of data between computers. The EKG wires glowed a deep blue as she watched them with her cybernetics engaged, shooting flashes of binary at the screen Moira was watching. What was most interesting, however, was that the majority of this processing was taking place via some mechanized middleman in a large tower to her left, a mainframe comprised of stacks of server trays, parsing the feedback from Widowmaker’s body almost immediately upon receiving it and sending that data back to the viewing screen.

This was the nexus, and it was where Sombra’s work would need to be done. To properly hack the computer, however, she would need to drop her camouflage.

She jumped from the table as gingerly as she could and made her way around the room, taking care not to catch her jacket on any wayward flasks or paperwork. Brushing past Widow, she ran a hand gently against her back. The sniper stiffened slightly, and as Akande and Moira turned to watch the screen blip in response to her surprise, Sombra appeared across the room from them.

Holding up one finger against her lips, she nodded toward the duo.

Widowmaker took the hint without missing a beat.

“Pardonnez-moi?” she asked as Moira nearly turned around, an action that would have set her attention directly on the exposed hacker as she worked. “Can I ask what you are reviewing?”

Moira, unable to resist answering a question about her own work, smiled.

“We’re reviewing your neural impulses and checking for synaptic growth.” She gestured at the strange spiderlike mapping across the screen. Some areas were lit up, and others stayed dark. “Some is to be expected, but in excess it could prove,” she paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “damaging.”

“Damaging?” Widow asked innocently, doing her best to avoid looking at Sombra. The hacker had latched into the network easily enough, hooking her own system into Moira’s with a flick of her wrist. The data within was endless and teeming with distractions, and it was with no small force of will that she steeled herself against them to locate what it was she needed to find: the processing core.

As the sniper made small talk with Moira and Akande monitored the screen, Sombra worked on peeling herself free from the mainframe, one byte of data at a time, in order to leave no residual trace of her presence. A quick look at Widow showed she was struggling to keep the scientist’s attention; Sombra took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and disconnected.

Widowmaker faltered, unable to come up with any more questions to ask Moira to distract her. As the geneticist turned, satisfied with the trajectory of her work, Sombra stepped behind the large computer system and vanished.

Perfect timing, she thought to herself, and she saw Widowmaker smile almost imperceptibly as she disappeared.

The rest of the testing went by quickly - Moira inflicting emotional pain on Widow as she expertly answered, deadpan and apathetic, the blips on the screen registering only the most remedial of emotional responses. Her responses were impeccable, and when Moira posed her final question, Widowmaker was more than prepared to answer.

“I understand there have been some instances of,” she paused, pretending to consider her words, “internal conflict of motivations. Should Sombra attempt to sabotage another mission with her personal whims, would you hesitate to neutralize her?”

The spider sighed dramatically and canted her head to the side.

“No.”

The machine didn’t register a single reaction; simply a flat, uninteresting tone indicating only the barest of reticence at killing her colleague. It was so realistic that Sombra might have even believed it had she not been viewing the actual results of the test on her own screen. Her heart skipped a beat with the twitching line of Widow’s synapses on the hard light screen, and she smiled.

“I think we’re done here, yes?” Akande said, having the temerity to look inconvenienced. He didn’t have to say that Moira had wasted his time; the implication was in his tone of voice.

Moira, a picture of grace under fire in normal circumstances, was having a hard time maintaining her composure. “I suppose so,” she replied, looking over the machine carefully. If she suspected something, she wouldn’t find anything. Not this time.

Fool me once, Sombra grinned from her corner.

“It looks as though your work is as impeccable as ever,” Widowmaker offered drily, and Moira latched onto her words in order to save face.

“I suppose I shouldn’t second guess myself.” Laughing superficially, she gestured toward the door out of the room. “You may go now.” Widowmaker stood, and Sombra took her leave, translocating to the beacon she’d left outside the laboratory for a quick escape.

When the trio emerged, Sombra was waiting outside, leaning casually against one of the whitewashed clinic walls, gazing at her nails in boredom.

“You pass, spider?” she asked, looking at Widowmaker.

The sniper nodded. “Yes,” she replied perfunctorily, walking to meet the hacker.

“I do not wish to hear of this again,” Akande said to Moira, his voice soft but easily heard across the room. Nodding at Widow and Sombra, he took his leave, turning too quickly to see the flush across Moira’s face.

“Guess the good doctor shouldn’t second guess herself, should she?” Sombra said, her words an innocent repetition of Moira’s a moment before.

A shadow crossed the geneticist’s face. She knew.

Good.

“Hasta tarde,” Sombra said, smiling sweetly and waving her fingers at Moira. Joining her other hand with Widow’s, she tugged gently, and the two of them left Moira’s office.

Sombra smiled to herself and disconnected her wireless link to Moira’s computer. For a moment she considered keeping Widow’s data for herself; another piece of blackmail she could save to hold over the geneticist’s head in a moment of need...but the implications therein were too damning, too bold, and the only one who would suffer if they were recovered was Widowmaker.

Instead, she pressed the fingers of her left hand together and deleted it, permanently, from her memory.

I win, doc.

#moira o'deorain #sombra #widowmaker #spiderbyte #olivia colomar #amelie lacroix #sombramaker #widowsombra #overwatch fanfic #overwatch

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kingdom-fanpage · 6 years

Text

Episode 01 - Part 1

The idol life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows: The schedule is crazy; you have to share a house and your bedroom with the other band members; the managers have to know about everything you decide to do; and when you’re out you always have to be careful about crazy fans and paparazzi because when they find you, there’s no use to try and escape. It’ll be all over the news in a second. You certainly have to make a lot of compromises, personal time and space being one of them.

Sean had thoughts like these from time to time. It’s not like he was ungrateful, though. Heck, he knew he could never trade away the feeling of performing on a big stage. Seeing your songs, you work, reach other people and, above it all, seeing how it touches them was priceless. But sometimes, all of the attention you receive, all of the pressure and all of the expectations that other people place on you can get very heavy.

Their boy band, “KING.DOM” was formed by five very talented integrants: Sean Cornell himself (known by the stage name ‘Sparrow’): the cute and a carefree one; Richard Parker (‘Ray’ being his stage name): Sean’s best friend and the band’s lead dancer; Arthur Warren: the oldest and cool leader who was like a father figure to the rest of the group; the mysterious bad boy Ace Glazier or simply ‘Glace’: who was actually fairly awkward sometimes; and the youngest but full of talent: Isaac Tash. The group had won a very prestigious award recently and started getting plenty of recognition since then, but that meant that they were working more than ever to prove themselves worthy of the title.

With their new album being released soon, they were very busy practicing the choreographies for the concerts. In fact, they had just finished a very tiring but good day at the dance studio: they got the whole choreography right for the first time. For that reason, most of the members were having a small celebration with takeout food and energy drinks at home that night. It might seem simple to others but, for the boys, having these little breaks where they could just have fun and be themselves, unsupervised, was deeply appreciated.

Sean wasn’t feeling like it though. He was the one who had more trouble with the choreography this time and he spent the whole day stressing over it, even going back to the studio to practice more during lunch break. No, he was too tense to stay up with the noisy members that night. And so, he excused himself and went back to his room soon after finishing eating. The other members were worried but knew each other long enough to know when he needed time alone, so they didn’t try to persuade him to stay with them.

Sean’s room was reasonably tidy that evening. Usually, it was messier, mainly because of his roommate, Parker, wasn’t a big fan of cleaning things up. No clothes on the floor, no plates on the desk. The only sign that someone was even there that morning was Rick's unmade bed, just the way they had left it early in the morning. Sean leaves his clothes on the chair, puts his phone in the waterproof pouch, like always, and heads to the shower.

As the warm water runs down Sean’s back, his muscles start relaxing a bit. The dance practice left him with a few sore limbs, but only now he noticed how much his body was tired. All of the members used their baths as a break of sorts since that was the closest they could get to being completely alone, even if it wasn’t for long. Most of the time they also used the time to check out their social media on their phones. And that was exactly what Sean decided to do.

Their fans called themselves ROYALS and were really dedicated. Every time they posted anything in any of their social media they would get an immediate response from thousands of people. Most of them were simple comments like “Parker is so handsome!”, “Sean is so cute~”, “OMG, Glace breaks my heart” or stuff like that, which was really amusing to read oftentimes. Of course, there were hate comments too, but they always tried their best to ignore them. That night, however, he could notice some people concerned about his well-being. “Sean looks so tired”, “don’t work too hard”, “take care!” were a few he could read. Nothing would escape a fan’s sharp eyes.

Sigh.

He turns off the phone and just stands there, staring at the wall, hoping the water’s warmth would make his worries fade away, but it wasn’t working. Sean would keep on thinking about all the mistakes he made that day, how it would affect the group and how he was making the fans worry. It was all too much.

Once he finally snaps out of it, enough time has passed to cover the entire bathroom in a warm white vapor. He gets off the shower and grabs a towel. After doing his daily personal care routine (which included loads of anti-wrinkle and other expensive beauty products), he changes into his pajamas and heads to bed.

Sean has been laying there for awhile now, but he couldn't manage to fall asleep. He could hear the boys from the dining room, and they were so loud not even his earphones were a match for them.

Another Sigh.

He gives up on trying to sleep and looks out through the room’s window. It was winter and even though there wasn’t any snow, he could see the frost forming in the glass. Definitely chilly. He was almost entering a relaxing trance state when Ace bursts out in laughter outside and he was forced back into reality. There was no way he could rest that night.

The tired boy grabs his phone. It was already 3 am. He looks out of the window again. The street was empty, completely silent. Everyone would be at their homes warming up in that cold Tuesday night.

Silent. Deserted.

And so it hit him: why not sneak out for a bit? it wasn’t like the manager, Ryan was around to scold him at this hour. He knew Parker would cover for him if he happened to check on them, and if Sean had the misfortune of finding someone out in the street, he could hide his face with his scarf, right?

Truth was, this wasn’t the first time he did that. In fact, all of the members had snuck out at least once at some point since the band’s debut, three years before.

Sean had decided it was the only chance to get some peace of mind. He quickly changes his clothes to something warmer, grabs his navy-blue scarf from the chair and goes for it.

At the bedroom door, he hesitates a little. The door to the building’s entrance was near the dining room, but he could sneak out without the other boys noticing. Not that he really needed to, but he wouldn’t like to make them worry about him being outside that night.

He waits until Arthur has started to tell one of his notorious bad jokes to rush to the door (no one could escape when the leader decided to tell a dad-joke). He then proceeds to put on his boots, that he had left by the house’s entrance.

The other members burst out laughing while Ace would make sounds of reproval. Arthur finished the joke, but wouldn’t stop until he made Glace laugh too. It was a little challenge they did sometimes since he was famous for his lack of sense of humor. While he starts to tell another one (Sean could hear Ace’s desperate moan from the entrance), Parker gets up.

“Be right back guys, restroom break.”

Damn.

Sean hurries up with his boots. Parker would have to pass in front of the door to get to the bathroom and definitely catch him.

Damn boots. He hurries with the shoelaces. Footsteps approaching. Damn. Boots.

Too late.

“Oh, getting out in a hurry, are we?” Parker creeps up behind him and taps his shoulders with both hands. Richard was used to his best friend’s behavior by now. Sean and Rick had the same age and had known one another for way longer than the other members, so they were the most comfortable around each other.

“Ha, you caught me,” Sean says while jokingly raising his hands in defeat. So he wouldn’t go unnoticed, but at least it was just Parker.

“Just hurry back will ya? I don’t want to have to cover up for your sorry ass every time, you know?” Parker says, faking annoyance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in 30, promise.” He crosses his heart with his finger and smirks.

“I’ll hold you to that, pretty boy.” He starts to make his way to the bathroom again when he turns to face Sean once more. “Don’t be careless out there, okay?” a little bit of worry crosses his face.

“Am I ever?” Both smile. “I owe you one, Ricky,” Sean says before heading out.

“Two, and don’t call me Ricky!” He hears Parker say while closing the door. He lets out a little laugh. Sean knows he hates the nickname, but he couldn’t ever refuse a chance to tease him.

Finally outside, Sean takes a deep breath. It was so cold he could see his white breath flowing through the air. He locks the door behind him, tightens the blue scarf around his neck, making sure it was covering his face and starts walking down the street, heading towards the children’s playground at the end of the block.

#plot

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