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raaorqtpbpdy · 3 months

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Haunting With Dinosaurs (2)

Danny is summoned by a powerful occult practitioner named Victor Veloci, who wants him to bring dinosaurs back to life. It sounds absurd, but Danny is bound to him and cannot refuse, even though he can't actually bring dinosaurs back to life. Instead, he merges the ghosts of five dinosaurs with the bodies of the five human sacrifices Veloci used to summon him, restoring them to life as dinosaur halfas. And that's only the beginning. I'm lowkey assuming that the majority of people who read this will not have seen Dino Squad, so I've made sure to describe all the DS elements a little more thoroughly than the DP elements so those of you who haven't seen Dino Squad can understand what's going on.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day 4: Any Fandom Dino Squad | Element

Read it on AO3 also, Watch Dino Squad on YouTube it sucks (affectionate)

Danny is slightly aged up to be 18 and a recent high school graduate, also this is a ghost king Danny AU, and obviously Phantom Planet didn't happen, but other than that, no major changes have been made to DP lore in this fic.

As for Dino Squad, I've made some pretty significant changes, but they pretty much boil down to: This is a supernatural AU, so it won't have canon-typical Dino Squad made-up science. All other changes are explained in the actual fic as they come up.

This may or may not be the last chapter, haven't decided yet, but I made sure to give it a decent ending, just in case. It is not yet edited, but will be eventually.

"Italicized dialogue" indicates speech that can only be heard in the POV character's head. (Danny in this chapter)

Chapter 2: Day of the Dinos

[No applicable warnings]

After dropping off the van and driver, Danny flew straight to the school and waited impatiently. It was a Saturday, so the only people on campus were the boys' soccer team playing practice games, the few unlucky teachers who had last-minute work to get done, and the fewer, even unluckier students who'd gotten stuck with weekend detention.

For the sake of not drawing attention to himself, he'd switched to his human form. Any time someone got close who might recognize he wasn't supposed to be there, he would duck out of sight behind the school's sign, or a tree or something. He didn't need to be mistaken for someone who was supposed to be in detention—or worse, on the soccer team.

In the 15 hours or so that he'd been in this town, Danny hadn't learned much about it. He'd learned that it was called Kittery Point, and it was in Maine, so at least he hadn't left the country. After hearing Victor's accent, he'd been a little worried that he might've been in Europe somewhere. He'd learned that he couldn't leave this town, thanks to his order not to go too far.

And he'd learned that this place was absolutely teeming with dinosaur ghosts.

It was a veritable Jurassic Park of ghost dinosaurs.

It was kind of awesome, but also kind of terrifying, because Danny had nearly been stepped on twice while he was standing in front of the school waiting, and even if they were too weak to be visible or tangible to a normal human, they could still crush Danny just fine. He wouldn't die, but it would hurt like a bitch.

He'd been waiting for half-an-hour before Rodger finally showed up.

Danny had made sure to get all their names before he'd dropped them off. Rodger was the one he'd merged with the styrofoam-saurus or whatever it was. The one that looked like a triceratops, but wasn't. Danny still hadn't figured out the difference.

"Over here!" Danny called out to him.

"Uh... do I know you?" Rodger asked. "Sorry, I can't really chat, I'm looking for—"

"The ghost king?" Danny flashed his eyes. "It's me, Danny."

"You overshadowed some poor kid?"

"No, it's me," Danny repeated. "I can take on a human form to disguise myself. I call myself Danny Fenton in the form. Get it? 'cause it sounds like—"

"Phantom, yeah, I get it."

Back home, Danny couldn't really use his human form as a disguise, since even as a human he was fairly famous locally for his association to his parents, who were regularly in the news, especially the traffic report. It was pretty convenient to be a nobody, all told.

Rodger immediately tried to get answers out of him, of course. He seemed like the inquisitive type. He was obviously the smart one of the group. Not that the others weren't smart, but it was a type, and he met all the requirements.

"Please, be patient," Danny said. "Once everyone is together, I'll explain things to all of you at once, and you can all ask your follow-up questions. I don't want to have to keep repeating myself for each of you guys, okay? Sound fair?"

Rodger begrudgingly allowed it.

Danny had to go through basically the same conversation again when Max and then Fiona showed up, and again with Caruso.

Danny liked Caruso. He was cute when his face wasn't all busted up, and it turned out he was pretty funny too. Now that he'd showered, gotten dressed in new clothes, and put a little product in his hair, he was downright gorgeous. He looked classy too. Not a lot of teenagers wore their skinny jeans with a dress shirt and tie, but Caruso made it work.

Oh, Ancients was he staring? Danny, stop staring!

"So you can shapeshift," Caruso summed up. "That's convenient."

They had to wait a little while longer before Buzz showed up. He strolled up to them wearing brown combat boots, green cargo pants covered in patches and safety pins, and a tie-dyed muscle shirt with the logo of a band Danny had never heard of. Now, with all the piercings, and punk accessories, the mohawk made a lot more sense.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I almost didn't come. I thought it might be better not to know what was going on and just try to move on, but this voice squawking in my head is really annoying."

"Does it want fish?" Fiona asked.

"Yes! Yours too?"

"She literally won't shut up about it."

"Mine is also complaining about having to walk everywhere and calling me stupid and inferior for nor being able to fly," Buzz added. "Anyone else? No?"

They all shook their heads.

"Awesome."

"It's so weird seeing you without the battle jacket," Caruso commented.

"Well, you'd better get used to it because that thing is toast. Literally."

"Right... sorry."

"Alright, our ride should be out any minute now," Danny said, checking the clock on the front of the school building.

As if on cue, the very woman he was waiting for walked out the front entrance and he waved at her. Joanne Moynihan, a bespectacled, gray-haired, Irish science teacher at the very same high school these kids happened to attend, and she was the second velociraptor who'd survived the extinction.

It had taken Danny all night to find her, asking both human and dinosaur ghosts for leads, but he'd tracked her down that morning and talked to her, and she was way different from her counterpart. For one thing, where Victor had been able to see ghosts the entire time, Joanne didn't even believe in ghosts until Danny proved his own existence to her. For another, she was kind, and cared about humans, and Danny was fairly certain she would never kill anyone, let alone her own students.

"Our AP bio teacher?" Fiona asked. "Am I the only one whose confused?"

"I'm confused," Buzz agreed.

"What does she have to do with any of this?" Max asked, looking a little lost.

"A lot more than you'd think, actually," Danny told them.

"These are the five you were talking about?" Ms. Moynihan asked, surprised. "What are the odds of five students from my third period class all getting dragged into this mess."

"Well, every story gets to have a really big coincidence," Danny said with a shrug. "So here's ours, I guess. Should we get going?"

"Of course," Ms. Moynihan said, leading the way to the parking lot. "You're lucky I decided to buy a van so I could transport lab equipment more easily or it'd be quite the tight squeeze to drive all of you."

They all piled into her car. Then she and Danny explained the situation to them.

Ms. Moynihan took the parts about herself and Victor surviving the dinosaurs' extinction and then for millions more years, part of which was spent in suspended animation. Danny took the spooky and supernatural parts, like telling them he'd merged them with dinosaur ghosts to bring them back from the dead.

"I told him that it would be like a possession, but my intention was to essentially give you the powers of the ghostly dinosaurs while your own wills and personalities were completely in control," Danny told them. "I meant to use the energy from the ghost dinos to bring you back with some residual ghost powers. I didn't expect the ghosts' personalities to stick around.

"Honestly, I didn't really think ghost dinosaurs would have distinct enough personalities to stick around. Sorry about that, guys."

"So basically, the voices we're hearing were an unintended side-effect," Rodger summed up. "But what did you mean by bringing us back with some residual ghost powers? What ghost powers?"

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed them yet," Danny said. "Side-effects of being brought back to life using ghosts may include: intangibility, mild ESP such as the ability to sense the presence of other ghosts, flight, energy manipulation, laser eyes, and much much more!"

"Laser eyes?" Buzz repeated.

"Well, ectoplasmic beams that you can fire from various body parts, but yeah."

"So like... seeing giant spectral dinosaurs tromping through the streets?" Rodger asked. "Yea or nay?"

"You see them too?" Buzz asked. "So It's not just because I missed my meds today."

"That's what I'm talking about," Danny confirmed. "This town has, like, a hugely disproportionate population of ghost dinosaurs, and I strongly suspect that's Mr. Victor's doing. He has this spell or something that calls them right to him. That's how I got the dino ghosts I used to bring you guys back."

"I don't want to have ghost powers," Max lamented. "I wanna be a quarterback."

"Well, your only other option is actually being dead," Danny pointed out. "I'm not asking for gratitude, but you could at least stand to have a little perspective."

Max pouted and sighed but didn't try to complain anymore.

"Hey... we've been driving a long time," Fiona observed. "Where are we going?"

"Ms. Moynihan has graciously agreed to lend us her secret base," Danny said. "It's a lighthouse on the cliffs at the edge of town."

"It's not exactly a secret base," Ms. Moynihan pointed out. "It does have a very powerful light at the top signalling it's position to everyone it can, but Veloci doesn't know I live there, so it should be a safe place to use as our base of operations."

"What operations?" Caruso asked. "What exactly do you think we're going to be doing?"

"Well, for one, I've gotta teach you how to use all your ghost powers," Danny pointed out, "because they can be kind of problematic if you can't use them properly."

"And for another, Veloci needs to be stopped," Ms. Moynihan added. "You five now have the power, and I believe also the motivation to stop him."

"I stalled him by saying it would take centuries to regain enough power to repeat what I did with you guys on other dinosaurs," Danny said, "But with this binding spell on me, it's only a matter of time before he discovers I was lying."

"We should probably add finding a way to remove that binding spell to our to-do list, too, then," Fiona said. "Right?"

"I would certainly appreciate it," Danny agreed. "In the mean time, Ms. Moynihan is gonna help me enroll as a student at your school. I never thought I'd end up back in the hell that is high school after I became the king of actual hell, but I'll do whatever it takes to keep an eye on you guys and protect you."

"Why?" Caruso asked. "In fact, why did you bring us back to life at all? Not that I'm necessarily complaining, but like you said, you're the king of hell, king of the dead. Why do you even care about a few insignificant humans like us?"

"I may be the king of the dead, but that doesn't mean I want everyone to die," Danny said. "I was alive once too. I died young, and it sucked. It only happened to you five because someone wanted to summon me, so... I guess I feel responsible for you. For your deaths, and for making sure it doesn't happen again any time soon.

"Besides, I can't leave town because dear old Victor told me not to go far, so what else am I gonna do? Hang out with him and work as his dumb black magic shop? No thanks."

"I guess that makes sense," Caruso allowed, but he still sounded a bit suspicious.

Danny decided not to push it, even though he kind of really wanted Caruso, in particular, to like him. Hopefully, Caruso would come around eventually, but Danny wouldn't get anywhere with him by aggressively insisting he was the good guy and they had to trust him. He could show them he was trustworthy. That was what he planned to do anyway.

At last, they reached the lighthouse.

Ms. Moynihan went straight inside while the rest of them stayed outside so Danny could give them their first lesson: transforming.

"Transforming from a human to a ghost is just like flipping a switch," Danny explained. "Just try to focus, and shift from human to ghost. I've found a catchphrase can help when you're a beginner. Observe." He clenched his fists, solidified his stance and shouted, "I'm goin' ghost!"

Familiar white rings appeared, spanning his body, and then he stood before them in his ghost form.

"Turning human again should be even easier, since it's your natural state," Danny said, then demonstrated turning human again. "Now you try."

The five teens looked between each other with raised eyebrows and puzzled expressions.

"Uh... going... ghost?" Fiona tried.

Nothing happened.

"Hm.... Oh! I know!" Danny said. "Remember how your ghost powers come from being merged with ghost dinosaurs? Try picturing the dinosaur you're merged with. Fiona, for you, that's a spinosaurus. Caruso got a stegosaurus. Max got a T-Rex. Buzz got a pteranodon—"

"No wonder she won't shut up about flying!" Buzz shouted.

"And Rodger got a... um... styro... styrieco... saurus?"

"A what?" Rodger asked. His brows furrowed and he frowned in thought. "Do you mean a styracosaurus?"

"Maybe?" Danny said. "It looked like a triceratops to me."

"But with spines on the fringe and no horns over the eyes, right?" Rodger guessed.

"Is that what the difference was?" Danny asked, gaping. "You know, come to think of it, it did look like that—Oh! Also, those voices you guys are hearing might actually be able to help with this, since you're kind of trying to transform into them."

"Are you sure they won't be able to take control once we transform?" Caruso asked.

"Absolutely," Danny confirmed. "Well, mostly. Actually, I hadn't even considered that possibility, but it's probably fine."

Wow, Caruso was more clever than he let on. And Danny had just completely fumbled his reassurances. Damn. He was losing points with this guy that he didn't even have.

"Great," Caruso said sardonically.

Still, the five of them kept trying, and one by one, they were each able to turn into faintly glowing spectral dinosaurs. And as a bonus, the dinosaurs' personalities didn't even become dominant when they transformed. Huge win!

While they were practicing, Ms. Moynihan came out with a camera and took pictures of the red markings around Danny's wrists, the markings from the binding spell. They even carried over to his human form, which was concerning, and Danny couldn't make heads or tails of what the symbols meant. Not that he was exactly an expert on that.

Ms. Moynihan wasn't an expert on ancient symbology or languages either, as she was quick to point out. She was a scientist—a geneticist, actually—and all this magic and spirits nonsense was not her field. Nevertheless, she was a skilled researcher with millennia of experience, and she would do what she could.

By the time the teens insisted on heading home for the night, they could all fly back on their own, and Danny felt like they had a solid start. There was a lot they still needed to learn, and a lot they still needed to do before they could beat Victor and Danny would finally be able to return home himself, but they could do it. He was sure of it.

"Come to me," Victor's voice sounded in his head and the marking's on his wrists burned.

He shifted to his ghost form and took off toward the black magic shop in the shady part of town.

This would be both their biggest advantage, and their biggest struggle. Danny could act as a double agent, telling them about all of Victor's plans and schemes and warning them of danger. But he also had to follow all of Victor's commands, no matter what.

Leading Victor on without giving the others away until they were able to take him down was going to be quite the challenge.

"Ghost King," Victor called him. "They're gone! They've escaped."

"First, it's Phantom, not ghost king. I don't call you Evil Velociraptor Witch," Danny said. "And second, I can see that they're gone. I'm standing right next to you. You don't have to yell at me."

"Well where are they?"

"I don't know, they probably went home. Why don't you just call their parents and ask?"

"I can't call their parents, I don't know who they are."

"You sacrificed five random kids without even knowing who they are? Very sloppy."

"Can't you find them with one of your powers?"

"No can do," Danny said. "I can sense ghosts when they're nearby, but I can't magically track them down."

It wasn't a lie. Victor hadn't asked Danny if he knew where they lived, or if he could find them without the use of his powers.

He was starting to realize that Victor was one of those magic-users who was completely over-reliant on magic, to the point where he forgot about easier non-magical methods of doing things. If Danny was right, Victor wouldn't ask Danny to start knocking on doors until one of his missing sacrifices answered one.

He'd try to find a tracking spell or something, and a tracking spell wouldn't work without something that belonged to the person he was looking for. The only thing Victor had from any of them was their blood on the floor of his basement, and that wasn't going to cut it. At least, not once Danny mopped it all up and claimed he was just trying to be helpful when Victor yelled at him for it.

"I suppose I'll have to find a tracking spell," Victor said, turned out Danny was right on the money. "But first, you said they would be possessed by the spirits of the dinosaurs I called. But when they woke up, they seemed to be in complete control. I know how a dinosaur trapped in a human body acts, and they were not acting like dinosaurs trapped in human bodies."

"Technically, I said it would be like possession," Danny pointed out. "I can merge two spirits together, but I can't control which one has control. My guess is that the spirits of the dinosaurs were partially faded and weakened because of their age, which meant the human spirits were stronger and took control."

That actually was a lie, but Victor hadn't ordered him not to lie, so as long as he wasn't refusing an order, he was fine.

At least, that had been basically what he'd hoped was going to happen when he revived those kids. In reality the dinosaur spirits had ended up being much stronger than he'd expected, despite their age. That was why the humans could still hear their voices.

"I've never dealt with ghosts that were millions of years old before," he continued. "Honestly, I didn't even know there were ghosts of dinosaurs until after you summoned me. I'm doing the best with what I've got, but you gotta understand this is completely new territory for me, and I'm learning as I go."

"So what you're saying is I know infinitely more than you about prehistoric ghosts."

"I wouldn't have put it that way, but pretty much."

Victor sneered. "Very well," he said. "Leave me to my work, but don't go too far. I'll call upon you when I need you again."

"Aye aye, sir," Danny said with a mocking salute.

Then he flew up through the ceiling and back toward the lighthouse where Ms. Moynihan had told him he could stay until he was able to return home. He could tell already that he was in this for the long haul. And he definitely had his work cut out for him.

#dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #fic #things i wrote #dino squad #dinosquad #dp x dinosquad #dp crossover #crossover #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover danuary week #supernatural elements

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fsbc-librarian · 1 year

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Steve Rogers was having a good, normal day. He was celebrating a friend’s wedding, being his usual polite self… until he unintentionally got himself betrothed! That was when the whole thing got a bit… out there. But he wouldn’t change a thing.

Read it here!

#stucky #fsbc #fsbc library #bucky barnes #steve rogers #fanfiction #stevebucky #fanfic #fic rec #library #selkie #supernatural elements #arranged marriage if you squint

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naminethewriter · 5 months

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One's Hometown, One's New Home - Masterpost

Welcome to my first contribution to the wonderful ship that is Anxceit! It is Anxceit Week, run by @tss-anxceit-week and I have a story for you about them meeting in a quiet town Janus has spend most of his life in and that he adores, while Virgil is new there and might be there to hide from... something. It a mostly fluffy story, with them getting to know each other and getting together but also has some supernatural elements! I hope you enjoy what I've come up with 💛💜

Summary: Janus' hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they're usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can't help but chat with him a little. Doesn't hurt that he's good looking as well.

Potential Content Warnings will be added to the appropriate chapters.

Read here on Ao3

Chapter One: Quiet Meeting

Chapter Two: Coffee and Mothman

Chapter Three: Curious Encounter

Chapter Four: Interrupted Shopping Trip

Chapter Five: A Home Full Of Memories

Chapter Six: Complicated Families

Chapter Seven: Learning About Each Other

My writing Masterpost

#namiswriting #One's Hometown One's New Home #Janus and His Werewolf Boyfriend #masterpost #finished #anxceit week 2023 #anxceit #multichapter fic #human au #supernatural elements #mostly fluff #sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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planets-and-prose · 6 months

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Summary: As many of those who've attended one know, college campuses are some sort of insular world of their own. They're tiny communities, full of burnout, existential crisis...and, well, in the case of a mid-sized private college known for its environmental studies and biology programs, there are...things beyond human understanding.

In a series of short stories, follow five individuals in various stages of their own journeys as they band together to keep their community safe from any forces that choose to harm it, and attempt to better understand this new world that they've been thrust into. And...also, try to maybe not die in the process. That's important too.

Genre: NA...Urban Fantasy

Themes: Found Family (if I ever don't put that, please assume I've been replaced), the American college system, stages of life, personal growth, marginalization, lgbt+ relationships, community.

General Triggers: mentions of discrimination, probable violence, definite body horror (transformations specifically), general trauma, language, more will be added as discovered and all excerpts will be tagged appropriately.

Characters:

Dr. Semira Adams, a sweet 46 year old Southern environmental studies professor/monster hunter specializing in the...unique biological features of the surrounding forest and how it's shifting to adapt to them.

Briar Rackham, a 28 year old TA and graduate student for Dr. Adams. They're a model grad student--straight A's, volunteering with nature camps for kids in the nearby cities, working on an excellent dissertation, LGBTQ+ rights advocate...and a recently turned werewolf.

Also: Worldbuilding re: werewolves!

Achaemenes (Kay), a 24 year old super-super-super senior in pre-med who's delaying his studies as long as humanly possible. Because graduation means there's no excuse to keep away from his hometown, a tiny rural community that's a well-hidden cult, half-populated by fae.

Also: Worldbuilding re: fey!

Dawn Solace, a...well, her body is 21 but her actual age is 39. So let's go with 39-year-old vampire who continues to work with music and theater at this college that she now calls her home.

Also: Worldbuilding re: vampires!

Masumi Yoshida, a 26-year-old whose whole life is a lie. According to her family, she's working on two very intense double majors and holding down an excellent internship on the side. In reality, she works at the chain burger joint on campus, telling her coworkers that she had to drop out due to a family tragedy and is just saving to enroll next semester when that's the last thing on her mind.

Deborah McCaen, a 20 year old junior, dual majoring in history and anthropology, with a focus on oral tradition and mythology. After being homeschooled her whole life, she moved away to college and found a love in understanding the "demonic creatures" told of in the fantasy books she wasn't allowed to read as a child.

Writing:

Full chapters available here on AO3!

#continuing ed sots #wip intro #new wip #paranormal #supernatural #supernatural elements #werewolves #no vampires yet #yet #fey #fae #urban fantasy #fantasy #continuing ed: sots

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switchedandbewitched · 10 days

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Switched and Bewitched

Chapter 1: Scoob, like, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore

Read more on AO3!

“Uh, like, fuck.”

“Well put, Shaggy, thank you,” Velma said. She rubbed the back of her neck and adjusted her dirt-smattered glasses. She was missing her right sock and shoe.

Somewhere off to the side they both heard Fred groan. “Have either of you seen Daphne?”

“I’m up here, Freddie.”

The gang looked up to see Daphne haphazardly dangling from over them from a tree limb. A cut on her cheek dripped blood onto Shaggy’s green tee.

“Like, how you doin’ up there, Daph?” Shaggy asked.

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Can you just help get me down?”

As Fred and Velma helped Daphne down from the tree Shaggy began to call out Scooby’s name. “Scooby-Doo, where are you?”

“Ri’m rover here.” Scooby was several yards away in a bush but thankfully uninjured. The Gang reconvened under the tree and looked around. “Ruys, rhere rare re?”

There was an initial pause until finally Fred said, “I... I’m not sure.”

“We need to figure out what is going on. Immediately,” Velma said. She smoothed her skirt, took a deep breath, and looked up, her mouth set in a hard line. “This is completely abnormal. We have never experienced anything like this before while solving a mystery. That witch must have drugged us and staged this to scare us off.”

“Velma, that doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel like I’ve been drugged. Remember that one time I was roofied at Red Herring’s party?”

“You mean that one time Red Herring roofied you,” Fred stated.

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, Fred, Red Herring did not --”

“Well, what would you propose as an explanation, Daphne?” Velma asked.

“Arguing isn’t going to help anything. If the witch did move us, we need to figure out where we are so we can go home,” Fred said. “We seem to be in some kind of park so there has to be a road nearby.”

“Like, Scoob and I are starving. It feels like we haven’t eaten in decades.”

It was near evening already and it took The Gang another two hours to hike through the park, eventually locating an access road that led them to a paved street. When they reached the street, there were few clues as to where they were. Thick trees blocked out any light there might have been from a town and the street lights flickered on and off at random.

“Now what?” Daphne asked.

“I guess we just wait until someone drives by,” Fred responded.

“Someone who is willing to pick up all four of us in this state and a 70 pound dog? Doubtful. We should pick a direction and walk until we get our bearings. We can’t possibly be that far away from home. The North Star is there.” Velma pointed. “The swamp we were in was to the east of Coolsville so we should travel west to get home but that would take hours.”

“Right,” Scooby said.

The Gang started off, silently. It was clear none of them were in as good of shape as they thought. Once their adrenaline wore off, they noticed hidden sore spots and bloody patches. Daphne’s face clearly needed stitches, much to her chagrin, and she could feel her stomach bruising from where she landed on the tree branch. Velma decided she must be missing a sock and shoe because they were ripped off when she twisted her ankle somehow. Shaggy was under the impression he and Scooby were fine until he reached down to pet his faithful companion and not only realized his arm was nearly immobile but Scooby’s ear was ripped and his face full of thorns. Fred kept it to himself so as not to worry the rest of the group but the longer they walked, the more painful breathing became.

After about forty-five minutes of walking along the road, they saw headlights behind them. The Gang waved their arms in the air and shouted for the car to stop. The car slowed to a stop and The Gang squinted into the bright lights. The large pick-up rolled down its window to reveal an older woman with a kind face.

“What are you kids doing all the way out here so late at night?”

The four hesitated before Daphne said, “Thank you for stopping, ma’am. We got lost during a hike and seem to have injured ourselves.”

“You couldn’t use a cellphone to call someone?” She asked. The Gang looked at one another, confused. “I s’pose service is spotty around here. Why don’t ya get in?” Shaggy, Velma, and Daphne got into the back seat and hauled Scooby over their laps. Fred slammed the back door and got in the passenger’s seat. “So, where can I take you guys? I’m driving through the center of town on my way home.”

“Uh, like, I think the hospital might be best, ma’am,” Shaggy said in a sheepish tone.

“Coolsville Memorial is about fifteen minutes from here. I don’t mind dropping you kids off there. You can call your families, right?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” Fred said. “Thank you so much.”

The woman reached forward and turned the volume up on the radio. Country music started playing. The Gang fell silent and laser focused on the radio. It was not the country music that caught their attention, but instead the way the radio lit up, the number of buttons, and that the dashboard had little diagrams of people and high-low settings. They each stiffened up and looked at once another, but did not say anything in front of the kind woman who had picked them up.

“So, my name’s Greta. What are all y’all’s names?”

“I’m - I’m Fred.”

“My name is Velma.”

“Like, my name’s Shaggy and this is Scooby-Doo.”

“And I’m Daphne.”

“Well, I am pleased to meet’cha.”

The rest of the ride went quietly, just country music, Greta’s humming, and a growing tension among The Gang.

Shaggy, in true Shaggy fashion, was already convinced something spooky was going on here. Many may confuse his over-indulgence in a certain herb and severe panic disorder with stupidity, but Norville Rogers was no idiot. He considered that monsters had been real in prior instances and saw no reason why the case they were working on couldn’t have led to an honest-to-god witch who could cast real magic. Whether the rest of The Gang could be convinced remained undecided.

Velma, on the other hand, was entirely against a supernatural explanation. The Gang had not been in Coolsville at the time they located the so-called “witch”, but about two hours away in a neighboring town. If the masked individual drugged the entire Gang, loaded them into a vehicle, and transported them back to Coolsville with paid actors like this Greta woman it would have taken several hours. According to the clock on the truck’s lighted dashboard it was 8:27pm, approximately three and a half hours from when they arrived at the witch’s cabin. Velma ruminated on the situation for a few moments more.

Jinkies, she thought to herself. We’re on a movie set! That explains everything!

Fred was nearly unable to think through the unbearable pain in his chest. He believed The Gang to have been kidnapped somehow and transported back to their hometown. On the other hand, it did not make sense for the witch to have known where they lived. Despite his effort, the Scooby-Doo Detective Agency had not yet become a household name.

Daphne felt incredibly off-put by the entire situation, not just due to the pain or strange circumstances. Every now and again a memory that didn’t truly belong to her appeared in her mind’s eye. She tried to shake the feeling that the witch had done something sinister to her but fragments of people, places, and cases she previously had no knowledge of bobbed to the surface. Daphne had already determined she was not drugged, regardless of what Velma had to say. The more she considered their predicament the more she thought about being hypnotized by the Ghost Clown.

“Here we are,” Greta said, spooking the whole Gang. “Y'all get home safe now, ya hear? Toodaloo!”

The Gang unloaded themselves from Greta’s strange truck with much groaning and grunting. Fred stumbled and dropped to his knees.

“Freddie!” Daphne cried. “Are you alright?”

Fred stood, shaking and out of breath, and waved Daphne off. “Fine. I’m just a bit light headed. Who knows when we ate last.”

The Gang stopped and stared up at the glowing Coolsville Memorial Hospital sign. Shaggy’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Um, like, guys this doesn’t look like the same hospital where they took my appendix out.”

“I have come up with a theory,” Velma declared. “The witch was clearly using advanced special effects, like the kind you would see in a movie, and makeup to stage her cabin in the swamp. I hypothesize that she did not transport us back to Coolsville but rather dropped us on to some kind of movie set, albeit a very large movie set. The doctors and nurses there are probably paid actors. We aren’t going to get any medical attention.”

“Velma, that is absurd,” Daphne responded. “We drove 15 minutes in that woman’s truck, down a mountain, and into town. There is no movie set in the world that big. You must have hit your head.”

Velma glared at Daphne, and her rationality. She was right, of course, but so far that was the only non-supernatural possibility that fit the equation.

A hospital staff had seen The Gang standing in front of the ER entrance, clearly injured, and came outside. “Are you kids looking for the emergency room?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Fred huffed.

“Okay, you should come on in, but the dog has to remain outside,” The nurse said.

“Rog? Rhere?” Scooby whispered.

“Understood, thank you. Scooby, you’ll have to wait outside.” Velma pointed to some thick flower bushes and hedges and whispered to Scooby. “Hide over there, we don’t know what is going on.”

The Gang followed the woman to the hospital desk and checked each of them in. Flatscreen TVs played the 9 o’clock news and only increased the Gang’s confusion. The weather reports listed today’s date as August 21st, 2022 even though it was December 6th, 1969 when they woke up this morning.

Daphne and Shaggy felt panic set in. Fifty-two years? This didn’t make any sense. Velma felt an increasing anxiety as she continued to lack a rational explanation for this. Fred could no longer process anything beyond the pain he was in and collapsed to the floor.

“Triage, STAT,” played over the loudspeaker. “Triage, STAT.”

Suddenly there were nurses swarming over Fred and they whisked him away on a stretcher.

“Where are you taking him?!” Daphne cried.

“Ma’am we need you to stand back, a doctor will update you shortly.”

Defeated, The Gang slumped into waiting room chairs. Each one was taken back one by one, in order of severity of injury. Shaggy was taken back next and found to have a dislocated shoulder and some cuts and scrapes. Daphne was taken for x-rays and an ultrasound to check for internal bleeding, which were clear. Eventually a plastic surgeon came and stitched up her face. Velma, in the best shape out of everyone, was taken for x-rays of her ankle and found to have a severe sprain but no fractures.

A doctor came out to the freshly patched-up Gang and informed them Fred would be taken into surgery as he had two broken ribs, one of which had lacerated his liver.

“When can we take him home?” Daphne asked.

“He needs to stay in the hospital for a few days but you can take him then. He will need serious rest. He must have fallen very hard from a great height to get the breaks he did.” The doctor’s tone told them he didn’t believe the injuries were caused by a fall while hiking but The Gang kept their mouths shut.

The Gang shuffled outside and found Scooby still hidden in the bushes. Shaggy pulled out some tweezers and gauze he stole from the hospital and began pulling thorns out of Scooby’s face.”

“Rouch, Raggy.”

“Like, sorry, ol’ buddy.”

“August 21st, 2022,” Velma said. “This is quite the elaborate plot.”

“Velma, I think this is August 21st, 2022. Look around. This isn’t fake,” Daphne insisted.

“Then offer me a rational explanation for how this happened,” Velma countered.

Daphne kicked a rock down the sidewalk in frustration. “There isn’t one.”

“Like, let’s start walking home. I’m sure everything will be fine once we see our parents and eat a triple decker salami, peanut butter, and anchovy sandwich. I’ve been meaning to visit my parents for, like, two months,” Shaggy said. Shaggy had spent the last several months partying his way through his freshman semester at Wetherby University before eventually dropping out. He’d been too embarrassed to visit his parents since.

With no better option, The Gang limped off towards home. New buildings they had never seen lined roads they had never been on. People wandered in and out of restaurants and bars in strange clothing with their noses practically glued to lighted screens. The Gang got lost more than once when they turned down a new side street. There was far more trash in the streets and graffiti than they remembered. But then again, by all accounts this version of Coolsville was a true city.

After at least an hour and a half of missteps and wrong turns, they reached the Rogers’ residence. The house was the same except it had been painted and a new fence was erected. Scooby’s doghouse no longer sat in the yard.

“Like, here goes nothing,” Shaggy said and, with more confidence than he had had all night, he marched up the stone walkway and knocked on the door.

A light flicked on inside and a disgruntled man in his PJs opened the door. “Can I help you? Do you know what time it is?”

“Um... like, I’m looking for my parents, Colton and Paula Rogers.”

“You’re joking.”

“Like, no, sir, I’m not joking. They live here.”

“I’m sorry, but we bought the house from Colton ah... well, I’d say going on 25 years now,” The man responded and pushed his glasses on his face. “You do look awfully familiar though.”

“I’m their oldest kid. Norville, Norville Rogers. Did they leave a forwarding address?” A lump was growing in Shaggy’s throat, getting heavier by the second.

“Well, I have to say again: you’re joking. And I don’t have any patience for pranks at this time of night.”

“Like, wait, I’m not joking!”

“Son, Norville Rogers, his friends, and his dog went missing on December 6th, 1969. It was one of the biggest missing person’s cases in the history of California. Norville Rogers would be nearly 70 years old by now and you look barely 20. Have a good night.” The door slammed in his face.

Shaggy’s face blanched and he turned around to face The Gang. “Like, I’m with you, Daph. We’re actually in 2022.”

“There has to be another explanation. Let’s try Blake Manor.”

Seeking out Daphne’s parents was an even worse result. Where the beautiful mansion Daphne grew up in once stood was an expansive parking lot and massive shopping center.

Velma gritted her teeth, “Fine. My house, then.”

They trekked all the way to the Dinkley residence where new people were living with their kids, based on the look of the front yard. They didn’t even bother knocking. It was clear from the exterior of the home that the Dinkley’s were no longer at the residence. The tree where The Gang’s treehouse was had been cut down and in its place was a large, flat stump.

“Wait a minute,” Velma muttered. She stood up and hobbled in her aircast over to some shrubs lining the home and disappeared behind them.

“Velma! You’re trespassing!” Daphne hissed. “Come back -” CLANG!

“Let’s go,” Velma said and disappeared into the earth.

Shaggy, Daphne, and Scooby followed Velma down a short ladder into a hole in the ground. The hole opened up into a small room, no more than 6x6x4 feet and supported by an impeccably designed wooden framework. There were dusty trinkets on shelves mounted to the walls, molded books on the ground, and some miscellaneous documents on the floor.

“Like, what is this place? It looks like no one’s been down here in 100 years.”

“Fifty-five years to be precise. The last time I was down here was three years before we visited the witch’s swamp. No one knew about this but me.” Velma picked up a dusty beaker and then set it back down immediately. “Fine. You’re right. We actually experienced time travel somehow. Now we need to figure out how to get back.”

“I think we have more basic concerns than that, Velma. Food, water, clothes, somewhere to sleep. Clearly none of our family is still here. We could try the Jones’,” Daphne said with a gentleness in her voice that hadn’t previously been there. She must have realized Velma was an inch from a breakdown.

“Tomorrow,” Velma responded. She laid her sweater on the cool earth, laid down, and curled into a ball. “It’s after midnight. We need to sleep.”

“Rown here?” Scooby protested.

“Like, sorry, Scoob. It’s all we got.”

In the morning, the reality of their situation set in a little bit more. The light of day made the differences all the more noticeable. Coolsville might as well have been a completely new city The Gang had never lived in.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Velma stated flatly after they crawled out of their hole. “Money, a place to stay, IDs, food --”

“Like, yeah, food,” Shaggy sighed wistfully.

“Any ideas?” Velma finished.

“I could try my bank account, though it’s probably closed by now,” Daphne offered.

“We should all try our bank accounts,” Velma agreed. “And anyone who might be alive still.”

“Red Herring?”

“Red Herring.”

The first order of business, money, required The Gang to travel to the Coolsville Savings Bank on the east side of town. They walked through business with strange names, selling products they’d never heard of before.

“What is ‘bubble tea’ and why is it $8?” Daphne asked.

“Like, man, some of the food in this era seems fantastic,” Shaggy said.

“I have no intention of getting used to this whatsoever,” Velma said. “We are getting home one way or another.”

Just as Daphne had thought, her bank account was long since closed. The bank teller informed her the Blakes had made a sudden move to the Cayman Islands some decades ago and hadn’t been seen or heard from since.

Shaggy, knowing he had about $5 in his bank account at the time of their disappearance, was not feeling particularly hopeful.

“Like, hello, ma’am, I’d like to make a withdrawal.”

“Do you have the account number,” the teller responded.

“No, but it would be under Norville Rogers.”

The teller coughed and straightened up. “Excuse me, could you repeat that, please.”

“Norville Rogers, please.”

“Do you have an ID, sir?”

Shaggy pulled out his wallet and presented the teller with a 1967 California state driver’s license and smiled sheepishly. “I know this may not make a lot of sense, but --”

“Wait right there,” the teller said briskly.

Shaggy widened his eyes at Daphne and Velma and tried to telepathically communicate something along the lines of Oh, shit, man! They’re gonna get the cops! Let’s make a run for it! But neither Daphne nor Velma moved an inch.

Maybe 20 minutes later the teller returned with every higher-up in the bank on her tail, no police in sight. Several men in suits passed Shaggy’s ID around and glanced back and forth from the scrawny teenager and the card.

The man in the fanciest suit handed the license back to Shaggy. “Can you please confirm the names of your parents.”

“Um, like, Paula and Colton Norville.”

“Can you please confirm the name of your dog?”

“Scoo...Scooby-Doo?”

“Prior to residing in Coolsville, California, where did you reside?”

“Plymouth, Massachusetts... Like, man, if my account is closed, just tell me and we’ll be on our way.”

“Can you please...” the man looked at a paper in his hand and cleared his throat. “Confirm the name of your coolest and most handsome uncle?”

“Uh, well, that’s a tough one... I have a lot of uncles... I guess I would have to say my uncle Albert. Shaggleford. Albert Shaggleford.”

“That is correct,'' the man responded. “You do not have an open bank account here at the moment but we are fully prepared to assist you with all your financial needs after you review this letter, Mr. Rogers.” The man in a suit handed Shaggy a trifold letter, sealed with a red wax stamp marked with a filigree ‘S’. The group of men collectively nodded and dispersed back into the bank.

“I thought that old man was crazy,” remarked one man, just loud enough for Shaggy to overhear.

Shaggy turned the letter over but there was no marking on it other than the wax seal. He handed the letter to Daphne and she immediately handed it back. “A creepy letter waiting for you fifty-two years after we went missing? Uh-uh. You open it.”

The four walked outside and held their breath as Shaggy popped open the letter to reveal distinctive handwriting.

May 19th, 1996

Shaggy, my boy!

If you’re reading this then I suppose you’ve found yourself in a bit of a predicament. When they told me you and Scooby and your friends went missing, I couldn’t believe it. Savvy, crime-solving sleuths such as yourselves, missing or kidnapped? Hogwash. I suspected something a tad more complex happened. More, shall we say, scientific? Supernatural? Same thing.

Regardless, I do not believe we will be seeing one another again. I write this on my deathbed. Giant lobster man mortally wounded me, I'm afraid.

I have made arrangements for you should you return after my demise. Please find your way to the address listed below. All arrangements have been made, including access to the Shaggleford trust. I do wish I could answer more of your questions but like you, I truly do not know what happened on December 6th, 1969.

I wish you luck navigating a new decade (possibly a new millennia!).

With love,

Dr. Albert Shaggleford

2010 Crystal Cove Ln

Coolsville, CA 95401

Gate passcode: 12061969

Ring (555) 427-1932

Shaggy handed the letter to Daphne wordlessly and she read it to herself, her eyes widening at the particularly strange parts.

Velma handed the letter back to Shaggy. "I don't know where that address is but we need to check on Fred and speak to Red Herring before we do anything else. This is becoming stranger by the minute."

Read more on AO3!

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vegalume · 6 months

Text

Vendredi

Halloween 2023

By Vega-Lume

Duo's friends are vanishing, and no one else notices or even remembers. Only Heero believes him and together they try to discover what is happening.

read on AO3 HERE

Friday the 29th

“Hey guys,” Duo calls out as he joins his friends for lunch. He looks around noticing they’re one man short he asks, “Where’s Wufei?”

“Who?” Quatre asks, not looking up from his menu.

“You know, Wufei. Black hair, dark eyes, dating Zechs’ sister.”

“I’ve never met Relena’s boyfriend.”

“What?” Duo asked, turning to Heero. “We’ve known the man for a decade!”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I’m sorry.”

Duo let out an exasperated sigh. Determined to believe they were playing a joke on him, Duo lets it go.

All night he thinks about the way the guys were at lunch. There was something off about it, more than just a joke. Whatever it was though, he couldn’t figure it out.

He stops at Wufei’s office Monday morning, only to find that it’s someone else's office. Looking like it had never been his friend's office at all.

“Hullo Agent Maxwell,” the woman in the office greets like she knows him, but Duo had never seen her bore in his life. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Um, no. Sorry to bother you.”

She simply frowns and turns back to her computer.

He turns away and walks right into Sally.

“You alright there, Duo?”

“Sal, where’s Wufei?”

“Who?” she asks.

“Not you too!” Duo snaps, “Seriously, this isn’t funny anymore.”

“Duo, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Last Thursday at 5pm, one of my best friends was in that office getting ready to leave for the night. Friday morning no one, including you, who used to date him, even believes that he existed! I have over a decade of memories of this man and it’s like he’s been deleted out of everyone else’s minds.”

There’s a look of concern on her face but she doesn’t say anything.

“At first I thought the guys were playing a joke on me, but now she- whoever she is, is in his office and you claim not to know him either. What the fuck is going on here?”

“She… Eliza has always been here, Duo,” Sally said gently. “That’s always been her office. Did you really not know her name?”

“Don’t even know her fucking face,” Duo snapped and Sally grabbed his arm, leading him towards her office.

She had him sit while she did a quick examination. She asked if he had hit his head recently or was experiencing headaches or blurry vision.

She poked and prodded., and apparently he passed for now, because she let him leave with a small frown on her face and instructions to get some sleep.

He ignored her and went to his office. Heero was there, of course, already hard at work.

“You’re late,” Heero commented, not looking up from the file on his desk.

“I was talking to Sally,” he replied as he picked up the phone and started dialing a number. “She said I need to get more sleep.”

Heero’s eyes met his for a second, and then went back to the file.

The call connected.

“Casper’s Deli, this is Marla speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, sorry. Must have dialed the wrong number.” Duo hung up and dialed again.

“Casper’s Deli, this is Marla speaking. How may I help you?” the same woman answered again. Duo hung up again.

“‘Ro, did Relena change her number again?”

“Who?”

Duo felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him.

“N- Never mind,” he stammered. “It isn’t important.”

He took several deep breaths, his hands clenched in fists in his lap so Heero wouldn’t see them shaking.

“I need to talk to Zechs for a moment.”

Heero nodded and Duo fled.

He hid in the bathroom for a good half an hour before seeking out Zechs.

“I need to talk to your sister,” he said without a greeting.

“Funny,” Zechs scoffed. “You’ll have to try better, Maxwell. Everyone knows I don’t have any siblings.”

Duo nearly ran back to his office and pulled up the search engine on his computer and entered Relena’s name. Nothing. Not a single searchable public record of her existed.

He then searched for the Gundam pilots.

Here he found loads of hits, but only for four. Just four.

“I’m going home, ‘Ro. I just- I can’t be here today.”

This time Heero actually looked up at him.

“Are you ok, Duo? You look pale.”

He let out a near hysterical laugh, “to be honest I think I’m going mad. Fuck.”

“Tell me,” Heero said as he came around the desk and crouched beside him. “Help me understand.”

Duo let out a shuddering breath.

“Remember on Friday I asked where Wufei was?” Heero nodded. “Well, Wufei is, was, one of us. A Gundam pilot. Only now he’s gone and no one remembers him but me.”

Heero frowned and settled back to sit on his heels. “And Relena,” he asked.

“Now I can’t find her either. Gods ‘Ro, she’s your best friend and you didn’t know her. She’s Zechs’ sister and-”

“Zechs doesn’t have any siblings,” Harry replied, sounding confused.

“That’s exactly what he told me! And I Googled her and there’s nothing. She was a fucking Queen for God’s sake and she’s just gone. And Fei, there’s nothing on him either, just news on the four of us, but he was our fifth. My best friend and he’s gone.”

Heero rose up and pulled Duo into a hug.

“What if you’re next,” he whispered. “Or Kat?”

“I can remember them, so they should be fine. Right?” Heero asked.

“I guess,” Duo replied. “But you remembered Relena last Friday and she’s gone now.”

“We’ll call them,” Heero said as he got to his feet. He picked up Duo’s phone and called Trowa first. Cathay answered and chatted for a few minutes while they waited for Trowa to come to the phone.

They only spoke a short while as Trowa was working, but it was enough to put Duo’s mind at ease, at least for a while.

They called Quatre next and he answered right away. Again he was fine but busy and only able to talk for a short while.

“Feel better?” Heero asked gently.

“For now, yeah,” he replied.

“I’ll stay with you,” Heero assured him. “Until we figure something out.”

“Thanks, ‘Ro.”

Friday the 6th

Duo had been twitching at every sound for days, expecting someone else to just pop out of existence, and now he and Heero, who hadn’t left his side since Monday, stood looking down at their usual table, only it was smaller and Trowa wasn’t there.

Duo’s vision almost blackened as he felt faint at the idea that Trowa was the next.

“Duo?” Heero asked. “Is it another one?”

Duo nodded. “Trowa.”

Heero frowned and looked back at Quatre who seemed confused.

“Do you remember Cathy?” Duo asked quietly.

Heero shook his head, paused and opened his mouth, his expression looking pained.

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s going on?” Quatre asked, but Heero and Duo’s focus was on each other at the moment.

“We called her last week, do you remember that?”

“Yes, and she gave the phone to someone else.”

“Yes! That was Trowa, only he isn’t… here now.” Duo finished quietly.

“How?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what happened to Wufei and Relena last week. We need to call Cathy and see if she’s still there and if she remembers him.”

They turned to leave the cafe but Quatre jumped up and followed them. “What’s going on?” He demanded.

“We’ll explain at the office.”

They told Quatre everything, but it was clear he didn’t believe a word Duo was saying and mildly scolded Heero for going along with the joke.

“I’m going home,” he announced an hour later finally fed up with the joke,

Duo begged him to stay, but Kat was having none of it and Duo had the sinking feeling that as his friend walked away, this would be the last time he saw him.

“What do we do now?” He asked Heero.

“We try calling Cathy.”

“Ok,” Duo agreed.

She answered, only she didn’t know him this time, Heero, or Trowa and scolded him for the prank call before hanging up.

Duo rubbed his eyes hard.

“Last week Wufei was gone by lunchtime, and everyone still remembered Relena then, but by Monday I was the only one who still did.”

“So someone else could vanish this weekend.” Heero stated.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Duo replied.

“We’ll call Cathy again on Monday and if she answers then we’ll know she’s safe.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay with you the entire time, just like I have been.” Heero assured him.

“Thank you, ‘Ro. Not only for staying, but believing me as well.”

“There really is something going on, I can feel it too. I knew someone was missing today, I just didn’t know who.”

“I wish there was another person who believed us.”

“Who haven’t you talked to yet?”

“Only Une, but with the way Sally acted I’m afraid of what she’ll do. Maybe have me locked up for being insane.”

“You’re not crazy,” Heero replied. “I really do see it too.”

“Mass hysteria?”

Heero chuckled. “I don’t think two count as a ‘mass’.

“Let’s go home, I can’t stand being here today.”

They spent the weekend constantly in each other’s company.

It was hard to sleep. Duo woke after just minutes and confirmed that his death grip on Heero’s hand was indeed still on Heero’s hand. If he was hurting the other man, he never did say, and was still at Duo’s side every time he woke.

By Monday morning they both looked terrible but they went into work and called Cathy first thing.

She answered. Duo hung up and nearly sobbed.

“We should walk around,” Heero said gently. “See if anyone else is missing.”

That looked like the absolute last thing Duo wanted to do, but he agreed and they walked through HQ. Everyone and everything seemed as it should be, and the more they found right the worse Duo felt, because he knew.

He knew.

Heero followed silently as they walked back to the office.

Duo sat at his computer and entered a name.

No results.

No Quatre.

He buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Heero crouched beside him and looked up and read the name in the search bar.

“Wait, I remember him, I think.” his forehead wrinkled in thought. “He had sisters?” he finished hesitantly. “We could call.”

“I can’t,” Duo whispered. “I can’t call and have him not be there, for his sisters to confirm over and over that he no longer exists.”

“We need to go to Une; we have to convince her somehow.”

They walk to her office and see someone else's name on the door.

“It can’t be,” Heero said. “I remember her. I know she should be here.”

“Hello boys,” Sally says as she walks by.

“Where’s Une!” Duo demands, rounding on her and stopping in her path.

“Une?”

“Yes,” Heero says, coming to stand by Duo. “The director.”

“Conrad?”

“No, not whoever that is. Une, Anne Une. You’ve known her since the war!”

“Duo, I really don’t-”

She didn’t finish as Duo grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

“Yuy,” she snapped, jerking herself out of Duo grip. “Get him out of here, now. Before I put in a recommendation for termination of his employment.”

Heero slung an arm around Duo and led him away.

“Fuck, ‘Ro. Fuck. Fuck!” he kicked his wastebasket, sending it rocketing across the office. He dropped to the floor with his back to his desk. “Why me? Why is it me that can remember them and no one else?”

“I remember Une,” Heero replied, sitting down beside him. “And Quatre. A little of him anyway. It’s more of an impression than an actual memory.”

“It was two last week, and three this week. There’s only the two of us left… What do we do?”

“We search the classified records and go to their homes if we must. There has to be something we’re missing.”

Duo slumped sideways and rested his head on Heero’s shoulder. “Gods, I miss them so much.”

Though Sally had told them to leave, they holed up in the office for days searching through the classified records of the HQ, old OZ files, any place that would, should have something on the Gundam pilots.

Absolutely nothing on anyone other than 01 and 02.

No military records on Une.

No birth or monarchy records for Relena.

No proof at all that Wufei, Trowa or Quatre ever existed.

They spend the rest of the week talking to others who might remember. Noin. Hilde. Other past war time contacts.

No one remembers or believes them.

They visit their homes finding other people living there, their parking spaces with different names on them.

Winner Industries was now run by Quatre’s father, who was somehow now alive again.

Dejected, they go back to Duo’s apartment and wait.

It was Thursday night.

Friday the 13th

Heero and Duo were silent as they sat on the bed, clinging to each other in fear.

It was Friday now, though only an hour past midnight.

“I’m so scared,” Duo whispered.

He holds Heero’s hands tightly between his, clutching them close to his chest. Afraid to sleep. Afraid to close his eyes too long.

He feels Heero squeeze back every minute or so.

His eyes slide closed. “Thank you for believing me.”

They blink open again an instant later and he looks down at his hands, no longer clutching Heero’s, but grasping his own as if clasped in prayer.

He closes his eyes again and lets the darkness take him.

Owari

#gundam wing #duo maxwell #heero yuy #NO HAPPY ENDING #supernatural elements #halloween fic

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nytephox · 6 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

“Barry! Don’t!” Caitlin cried.

With Barry’s back to him, Len watched the exchange between the two friends. Furious that there was information being withheld from him on his own ship. There was so much about these two that he didn’t know, and it was apparent that he was more clueless than he ever wanted to be.

He heard Caitlin call out again.

“Barry, please! You don’t know what it’ll do this time! What if you can’t change back?!” Caitlin was practically sobbing while holding onto Mick for dear life. Len shifted his sight to his friend, surprised to see the amount of fury in his eyes.

“Better than everyone dying, Cait!” Barry turned towards Len. He would later say that shock was the reason for his inaction. Not the dangerous beauty he saw when he saw yellow seep into Barry’s vivid green eyes.

“Forgive me, captain. I had every intention of telling you, but not this soon. Right now, I’m afraid I have no choice.” His expression was resigned. As Len hung on, his grip turned white knuckled in an effort to dull the anger that swam through his mind.

Quick as lightning, Barry jumped from the side of the ship into the water. Right before he hit the water, the crew saw the rest of his transformation. Though, as fast as Barry was, not one person could see anything but a dark red and blue blur.

For a brief moment, the sea was still, and they heard no sound except for the creaking of the ship.

The calm before the storm.

#coldflash #haven't worked on this in months #so completely stuck on it #so much research done for this #i might have burnt myself out on it #barry allen #supernatural elements #leonard snart #the flash #back in time #at some point this will be finished

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wr1t3w1tm3 · 5 months

Text

The Outsiders Vampire AU - V1

Welcome to the Degeneracy, ladies n' gents.

It started with Steve... of all people. One night, only three raw months after the Curtis' parent's accident he climbs through Pony and Soda's window and yanks Soda awake. Begging for help.

Sodas next. Steve's practically a hatchling. He has little control. He retains enough sense to do the deed outside the house. Both boys wake up the next morning in the lot and thank the Heavens that it's cloudy.

Darry and Pony are worried, but Pony's not over his last tiff with his eldest brother and suggests that Soda was already at the DX. With Steve supposed to be in school that day, there's no way of knowing until lunch time. Ill at ease, Darry hurries Pony off to school and heads to work.

Steve and Soda clamber through the same window Steve broke in hours prior and crash. Soda is dead tired still, and both are somewhat toasty from the sun coming out as they reach the house. Steve wakes before Soda, and some part of him realizes that he's got to get Soda right before Darrel or Ponyboy get back. He doesn't even know what he is anymore, but he sure as hell doesn't want to bring anyone else in unless he has too. Soda's already one to many. He grabs a couple squirrels from the trees out back - able to jump up and reach them even in the higher branches - and he gives them to Soda. He has to turn away, but the sound Soda makes as he sucks them dry is enough to make him sick.

It's not enough for long, and even Steve is starting to get hungry again. They discuss it briefly. They'll head over to the DX for work - Soda'll fib 'bout being sick n' Steve's not 'spossed to be in 'till four anyhow. They'll 'grab some'in' on their way back.

Work does not go well. Neither of them can keep their wits about them long enough to do much. Once the garage closes at eight their boss sends them home with a stern warning to get their shit together. Soda has to hold Steve back. The way the man yelled, his neck bulged, and his veins popped particularly pleasantly. Soda's still got some wits 'bout 'im, but not much.

On their way back they see a sign advertising a blood drive at the University of Oklahoma the next day. The truck's probably going to the medical center. They'll catch it after work.

Neither mentions how disgusted they are.

The next is Johnny, then Pony in rapid succession. Darry's still at work, doing the books now that it's after five. Johnny and Pony are trying to do homework. Pony smiles and gives them a little wave. Johnny glances up then back at his schoolwork.

Soda can't hold Steve back this time. He goes for Pony - he's closest. It's easy. One swift bite to the neck. Pony doesn't register what's happened until he's practically limp. Immobilized by whatever the fuck they inject when they bite. Johnny leaps from his seat, but there's blood in the water. With a crazed look in his eyes, Soda jumps 'im. He's knocked on his back and out cold in a few milliseconds.

When the two boys come too, it's to Soda cryin' n' Steve trynna comfort 'im. Both Pony n' Johnny are weak on their feet. Steve offers to run to the hospital and get somethin' to drink. Soda stays behind to keep an eye on them.

Luckily, Darry works late, and Steve arrives with the blood with plenty of time to spare. He has several for Pony and Johnny, plus a couple extra. Soda takes two, mentioning it tastes better than squirrel blood. Pony writes that down. Johnny nods but doesn't talk much. They all agree that they'll hang out for the night and meet sometime early the next morning - preferably while it's still dark - to discuss things.

When Darry arrives, everyone's lounging on the couch, watching tv. Two-Bit comes by, reeling drunk, and Soda has to physically dig his nails (which suddenly don't feel all that much like nails) into Pony and Johnny to keep them off Two-Bit. But he leaves quick enough and Darry heads to bead without more than a cursory 'good night'.

They pow-wow outside. Steve and Soda share what they know: they're tired during the day but are fine. Sun hurts more, so lots of sunscreen. Pony actually throws away his cigarettes, unable to take the smell when he lights up. They agree to meet in the lot the next evening and come up with some sort of dinner plans.

Steve and Johnny head home. Pony's worn out enough that he falls asleep easy. Soda tosses and turns, keyed into the beating of Darry's heart in the other room. When he wraps his arm around Pony, he's cold. Too cold.

They meet in the lot and head to the medical center. They steal blood right out of the back of the truck - draining it into several beer bottles too look less suspicious. They end up back in the lot, drinking. Two-Bit joins them. Luckily, they're satiated. They're not tempted as they were before. It's a relief.

Over the coming months, the start to figure things out. Steve reveals he was jumped attacked by some Soc's when he was closing the DX the night he got bit. Johnny gets jumped around a month after they were turned - or simply bit, as Soda puts it - and Steve recognizes him. The Soc recognizes Steve too.

He's 'bout as useful as a drunk Two-Bit. Unsurprisingly, he's next. Wrong place wrong time. They'd just met at the lot to go on a "run" and Two-Bit wanders in, smelling like cheap beer and motor oil.

Johnny reports tearfully that Two-Bit's blood does taste like beer. He's out long enough for them to get him something, but they know it's not sustainable. They can't keep stealing from the hospital. It doesn't' feel right.

Two-Bit of all people suggests that maybe there's a balance: enough to take what they need, but not enough to 'go all the way'.

It takes a little practice, but they find that balance. From there, it's just finding the targets. They split up a bit: Steve and Soda 'hunting' together (Soda hates referring to it as 'hunting') and Pony and Johnny. Two-Bit is usually a longer, but he'll sometimes stick himself in with one of the other groups. They tend not to hang out all together at the same time. To suspicious. But they have a pattern: Steve and Soda pick out the actual hoods and crooks who come into the DX; Pony and Johnny do the same at the Dingo with Dally and Two-Bit, though he tends to take anyone he finds: he especially stalks the bars, still chasing the kind of drunk he used to get before he got bit. Occasionally (though he never admits it) Johnny will drink from his parents, using the balance Two-Bit came up with and taking enough for himself but not enough to kill them. He pretends he's counting calories. Now a days his parents are a more reliable meal than they've ever provided in his entire life.

They rarely talk about it. Better to just pretend like it isn't extremely disgusting and just roll with it.

Darry's next. It was only a matter of time. It's just a couple weeks before the Rumble. Soda's gone onto the night shift - saying that's where his boss needed him - and Steve's joined him, dropping out of school entirely. Ponyboy stays in, but he's perpetually tired. On one such occasion, he walks in, and Darry is home. He didn't have to do the books quite yet. Pony's tired, and very, very hungry. Spent from being at school all day. He slips.

Soda bolts up when Darry screams and works desperately to pry Pony off Darry. But the damage is done. Darry's out cold and quickly on his way to joining them. It's the first time Soda scolds Ponyboy: for waiting too long between meals, for not just nicking from a blood truck or some hapless animal in the neighborhood (as bad as they tasted). Soda calls Steve and Two-Bit over and it takes all three of them to hold Darry back when he wakes up. Pony barely arrives in time - despite the speed boost acquired once he was bit.

Darry's unsettled. Unsure. His livelihood - the Curtis households' livelihood - depends on his toiling in the hot sun all day. What'll they do now? Two-Bit jokes that he could be a bouncer at Buck Merrill's. Soda assures him that as long as he wears lots of sunscreen, he'll be fine.

At first Darry's more like a kicked puppy. He's still imposing, but he acts like a gentle giant, unsure of himself. By the time the rumble rolls around, he's feeling much surer of himself. Pony and Johnny still make for Windrixville after Johnny kills Bob - only this time it's both boys who're responsible for sucking Bob dry.

Darry lets Pony fight this time. Johnny fights too, more confident without his scar and completely fine. Darry's still dealing with smoke inhalation when it rolls around. But just as their gang and Tim's are lining up against the Soc's, he comes runnin' in and all hell breaks loose.

Darry's the last to get bit. It's a Soc. The one who turned Steve. He grabs Dally, eyes aflame n' red, and brings him down. When they finally get to him, he's out cold. At first, they think he's just been clobbered, and they carry him back to the Curtis house. Then Two-Bit mentions he can't hear his heart beatin'.

He's barely in the house 'five minutes 'fore he wakes up. He's mad at first, but then he's cool as ever, but still pissed. The gang explains everything. Dally takes it in stride, jokin' 'bout how Pony could do all the rodeos he wanted and how Darry could be a bouncer at Buck's. And as much as it sucked, they would make the most of it. Soda assured them of that.

In the end, sure, it was Steve's fault. But in the end, they were together, forever. They'd really always have each other's back.

And for as long as he could, Darry worked as the Bouncer at Bucks (until people got suspicious of his youth and everyone was forced to move to Wichita and start over in the 80's).

All of this thanks to me trying to decide if Steve would be able to exist in the Outsiders in 1965 if Lestat - also a Tom Cruise character - from the vampire diaries already existed... and then I remembered they were from different exclusion zones, and it all works out until Steve goes to war. So, post canon (to The Outsiders at least). All for my fandamonium AU, which I'll be posting more of here soon.

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maaruin · 2 years

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Hear me out on this TV Show idea:

A van Helsing medical drama

Van Helsing is a both a doctor who treats patients and a professor who teaches medicine in Amsterdam. He is often consulted in cases where other doctors can’t help, but many of his collegues have difficulty working with him because he is often uncommunicative. Most of the episodes are about illnesses of natural origin, only very sparsly does he have contact with the supernatural. (I guess the first unabiguously supernatural case would be in the season 1 finale. Not his first supernatural case though, he references some he had before the series started.)

He has his struggles as a professor because many students don’t do well with his teaching style. He isn’t really good at explaining himself and only few students are willing to put in the effort to really understand what he is saying. And he struggles with his faith: he doesn’t doubt God’s existence and he can make convincing arguments for God’s benevolence, but emotionally he doesn’t feel like God is supporting him and that he has to deal with everything on his own.

There is a heartbreaking scene in which he visits his son’s grave. And an even more heartbreaking scene in which he visits his wife, who has brain-damage and doesn’t recognize him. (And of course there has to be an episode in which he meets a woman who is interested in him and who he also develops an interest in, a nice and somewhat eccentric older lady. But he ultimately rejects her because in the eyes of God he is still married.)

The plot of Dracula is told from his perspective starting in one of the later seasons, but I think it is better if it wraps up before the final season(s). Even for his supernatural cases the majority shouldn’t be about vampires, by the way. He isn’t a vampire specialist.

The big character development over the series is van Helsing learning to communicate and more importantly to trust people enough to let them in on his thoughts.

The question is, can his cryptic attitude be made fun enough for the viewer to endure and enjoy for 5-10 seasons?

#dracula daily #abraham van helsing #story ideas #tv show ideas #adaptations #medical dramas #supernatural elements #catholicism #(i would prefer such a series to show more understanding of catholicism than stoker does)

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rp-partnerfinder · 10 days

Note

Hey! I'm 22 and looking for some 18+ IT and Stranger Things Roleplay Partners. I'm very big on aus and horror/supernatural elements like demons, vampires, werewolves, slashers, and so on. I also LOVE doing cross overs between the two fandoms. I love smut and gore, so just be warned. IT ships include Richie x Eddie, Richie x Stan x Eddie, Stan x Bill. (Aged up into young adults or chapter 2 ages. I also love the neibolt aus for these ships.) Stranger Things ships include Steve x Eddie, Steve x Billy x Eddie, Jonathan x Argyle, Robin x Nancy, Will x Mike (aged up). I typically try to fit length, but if it's like 5+ paragraphs and takes up my whole screen, it may only be one reply a day if that. My discord is Olliegee21. Add me or DM me here.

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naoa-ao3 · 7 months

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Last Friday

John's on his third drink of the night when he manages to make eye contact with a pretty girl across the bar from him. It's the second time their eyes have met that night and he's starting to think she might be looking his way on purpose.

It's a Friday evening and she's very pretty. He gives her his best smile and sips his drink. She's laughing with her pretty, fashionable friends. They're stunning to look at but the blond with her hair pinned up has already caught his eye. She keeps looking at him and after the fourth or fifth time it happens he begins to think he might actually have a chance.

She's got a perfect smile, white teeth flashing through the smoke and the clinking glasses.

He smiles back at her, thinking that The Crippled Prince is a much better pub than he'd originally thought and he doesn't regret picking it for his evening.

He chooses then and there to get across the room. He wants to get the pretty blond away from her friends. He wants to know her name and if she'll go home with him. She keeps smiling like she will.

"Buy you a drink, love?" He asks, fighting through the people and the cigarette smoke and the clinking glasses to get to her.

She smiles and it's cool and smart and he wants to kiss her. It's in the air with the people and the smoke.

"Sure," She say's. "Why not?"

He smiles again and get's her a drink, get's himself his fourth of the evening and she pardons her friends away. The secretary pool or whatever they are. . . the hive. . . the collective. . . girls in groups. . . they titter and giggle and laugh, patting the blond on her shoulder as they go, moving like a single entity to the other side of the room. Winking at her as they pass.

He shrugs and looks at the pretty blond girl he's got to himself now and thinks she's got bright eyes. "Evening out?" He asks.

She nods. "Us girls go out like this the last Friday of every month. Us girls from work." She say's.

He smiles a little, not totally interested in why she's out tonight, mostly he's just glad she is. "Well then I hope I'm not interrupting it." He say's, half joking.

She laughs, teeth bright and perfect. "Not a chance. I see those girls every day. I've never seen you before."

He laughs too. "Come here often, then?"

She continues smiling, shaking her head. "Only sometimes."

He laughs again, looking at her perfect teeth and hands. "That so? Where do you and the girls work? I assume you all work together."

"We work in a shop." She laughs, sipping her drink and getting foam on her lip. She laughs again and wipes it off. "We're shop girls."

"Shop girls." He repeats, wondering at his luck. "And what's your name? In case I need to report you to your manager."

"Rita." She say's. "Yours'?"

"John."

Rita's eyes are green and remind him of the sea. They almost look like someone's wish. "So what do you do, John?"

He shrugs. "Odd jobs." He say's, half telling the truth. He does do odd jobs but they're a little more odd than he's going to tell her tonight.

"You like that, do you?" She asks.

He's honest. "Most of the time."

She laughs again. "That's the way I feel sometimes."

"So you're telling me shop girls don't have it all made, eh?"

Her eyes sparkle. "Oh you know how it is. Every job has it's perks." And just for a second, maybe because of the smoke she looks sad.

John doesn't want sad and tells a joke instead, getting her laughing again. She's sweet when she laughs, when she's all smiles and white teeth.

There's something youthful in the dance, the flirting, courting, the steps and questions. The spark of two people meeting. The timeless dalliance. . .

He's happy in the game because it has no real end goal, sure a girl coming home with him is a bit of a goal but the game is the goal, flirt a little , talk a little and see what happens. It's a time honored ritual made all the better by the music and the beer around them.

The smoke swirls over their heads and there's no telling what's going on in hers. Behind her green eyes John can't see anything else. Just shiny and new.

"Wanna dance?" He asks. He'd like to dance with her, it's part of the game. The ritual preformed under the smoke and music.

Her eyes light up, so bright and shiny and she nods. "Oh I'd love to. I don't ever get to dance as much as I'd like." It's a bit of an odd statement but he doesn't pursue it. Most people are too busy to do what they actually want.

They get up and he offers her his hand in a parody of chivalry. She looks delighted and follows him into the dance floor where he thinks she's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen.

She glitters under the lights and music, the smoke swirls around her like a fog and he can't believe she's actually giving him the time of night. She's the stuff school boys dream of. Or at least the stuff he dreamed of when he was last in a uniform.

Her smile is so bright and happy and he doesn't know how to stop looking at her. He doesn't even love dancing that much but for her it's somehow worth it, her smile is so bright and genuine. People don't smile like that very often, not in his experience and yet here she is, each new step an act of joy.

When at last he's too tired to go on he manages to drag her over to a table and sit again. She's rosy cheeked and laughing still.

"Ah that was so much fun!" She says before smiling at him, eyes sparkling. "I don't want this night to end but then I never want any of them to."

He laughs, she's a bit odd but with her looks she can afford to be. "Doesn't have to be over." He says, trying to sound casual. This is the moment though when it's hard to. Too casual sounds cruel, too intense sounds unpleasant. It's a moment that can still reduce him to a teenager.

Her eyes take on a strange look in the night but she nods. "You're right." She looks at her watch. "Will you walk me home?"

He nods, the dance fuzzy. It could be an invitation or it could be just that: a walk home. He agrees either way because he likes her. Whatever she's come to represent in his head he likes her. She's bright and pretty and a good dancer. She looks like a model.

He pays for their drinks and she waves to her girlfriends, eyes bright and happy in the smoke and music.

Outside he lights up and offers her one and watches her take it with unpracticed fingers. Maybe she's trying to look tough or like she's up for anything. He doesn't know. He doesn't even know where this night is headed but she hasn't said no yet and with any luck, she won't want to.

"That was a lot of fun. Thanks for dancing with me like that." She says as they set off down the street, keeping stride with one another at a jaunty kind of pace.

He nods, surprised by his own enjoyment. "It's been a while since I spent so long dancing." He admits, keeping the conversation easy. Keeping it light.

She smiles again and spins slightly on her heel. "I love dancing. I wish it was tonight every night. I have to work so much of the time and you know I never really find myself doing anything."

"Oh? So being a shop girl isn't quite as glamorous as the movies make it seem, huh?" The joke doesn't really mean anything but it carries them.

That same, strange look fills her beautiful eyes and she shakes her head. "It's a lot of standing around but I don't know what else I'd do with myself. I don't think I was made for anything else."

Its awfully defeatist for one so young and beautiful. "There must be something else you'd like to do." He says, flicking his cigarette away while she works a while more on her own. He smokes them too fast these days. He aught to be more like her, if for his wallet's sake or anything at all.

"Oh there's lots I'd like to do." She says, gazing up at the sky. The city is too light polluted to really see the starts but he knows they're there and he knows where they sit in the sky. He can imagine them.

"We'll give me something then!" He prompts, smiling at her.

She's pristine she's so beautiful and clean and happy looking and he doesn't know what she's doing with him. Why a girl like this would ever want to dance with someone like him. . . She didn't belong in the Crippled Price. She looks like she should be ain a shop window, all fashion and hairspray.

"I'd like to be an actress." She says. "You can pretend to be anyone in a job like that. I think I'd like that."

He thinks he hears something sad in her voice then. Something almost tragic. Maybe she really does have something sad in her heart. The life of a shop girl isn't so easy or simple, not when she has other dreams.

There are stars hidden overhead and stars in her eyes. There are dreams up there, hidden and yet watching. Elusive and out of reach to him and girls who wish they could dance more.

They walk on and find the city all their own. She leads him into a shopping district and it surprises him. He'd thought he was taking her home but she's still smiling and laughing and he doesn't trust her to lead him astray.

She dances in the street ahead of him, girlishly gleeful on this the last Friday of the month.

She and the girls always go out on this day.

This was their day.

He wonders what they do on all of the other Fridays in the month. Maybe nothing. Maybe that's why she's so happy.

He doesn't understand but people have their own worlds inside of themselves and you can never really know them, no matter how much they tell you. No matter how much they scream at you and Rita hasn't raised her voice even once. We'll, not since the Crippled Prince and even then it was only just to be heard.

Rita stops outside of a shop window and stares at the empty display. Usually there would be mannequins standing, showing off whatever useless garments the fashion industry was saying people needed to buy for the summer.

She touches the glass and he feels awkward, like he's along for a ride he's not part of and he averts his eyes.

"I wish it were always Friday like this." She says and she sounds terribly sad as she turns to him. He can see water in her eyes. Tears escaping the green brilliance.

He can understand and nods. "That'd be something." He says, lost for words.

He doesn't think he's going to get laid anymore and he's okay with it but he's also confused. Why did she take him here? Why did she go from spinning under stars to crying all of a sudden? Wasn't everything all okay just a moment ago? Why couldn't he do anything?

She sniffs beautifully and tucks a loose strand of hair away. "Yeah." She whispers. "You wanna come inside?"

He looks at the shop, not understanding and nods because he does and she leads him in a side door. A side door left unlocked.

He thinks it's strange and doesn't understand what's happening. Rita is less cheerful and her movements jerky and strange.

The department store is dark when they enter and she turns to him with a miserable look. "Oh don't be angry with me." She says and he knows he won't be. Not unless her head splits in two and something else leaps out of her. Not unless the unthinkable happens.

The clothes around them hang on racks like hanged shadows, their arms reaching towards the floor, their necks empty. They can't even stand on their own two feet.

"Rita?" He asks.

She has her arms around herself and she's nearly in tears. Her distress is distressing for him. Her green eyes shouldn't be so afraid and he reaches for her, utterly lost in the temple of consumerism. It's dark and full of corners and shadows. Price tags and tills.

Why has she brought him here?

"Rita, is this where you work?" He asks.

She nods and sniffs like a girl, like a child. "I just wanted you to walk me home. I'm sorry." She says.

He doesn't understand. "What are you sorry for?"

She shakes her head and he steps closer to her, wanting to stop her tears before they fall to their deaths. The little pearls are so close. They might not even know it.

He puts his arms around her and gives a part of himself to her. He draws her against his chest and holds her, not understanding anything but that Rita isn't awful, she isn't wicked or cruel or part of the world he usually inhabits. She's a pretty shop girl and for some reason she's taken him home.

His eyes trace the ceiling and his heart gains a stab of uncertainty. This isn't her home and he doesn't know why she's crying.

She sniffs into his jacket and he's sorry too because he knows it doesn't smell the best, not to people not used to him. Stale cigarettes and everything he's ever spilled. Everything he's ever fucked up. He stinks of it and he's suddenly afraid that even this act of compassion will taint her.

She's pristine after all "Are you angry with me?" She asks, looking up at him through wet eyes.

He shakes his head. "Why would I be? I just don't understand is all."

She feels fragile and when she doesn't respond he takes a guess and kisses her.

It's soft. He's giving her any opportunity to pull away because it might be the wrong thing to do. It might just ruin everything and send those tears spilling over the edge. He might just be the dumbest person in London that night. At least in a dark department store.

To his surprise she kisses back, wet and hard. She kisses with passion and sobs into his mouth.

It's weird and human and he feels too responsible for her now. He'd only wanted to get laid and when that hadn't been on the table he'd only wanted to help. Why did good deeds always end up like this?

She leans against him and then the door opens and the girls from the pub file in. They're all stunning and prim and utterly pristine, just like her.

He holds her as they pass by, their eyes sharp and bright.

They don't speak and Rita feels so fragile in his arms. He can feel her heart hammering in her chest like the beating of some trapped animal's wings.

He doesn't understand any of this. He doesn't understand what's going on or why he's there or why the rest of them have shown up.

Nothing's open this hour.

Rita looks him in the face then and she looks miserable. "I'm so sorry John." She says, hand on his cheek. "There's so many things I want to do and so few I can. I just wanted to dance and kiss someone and you were there, good looking and nice to me. I'm so sorry. I know it's not what you wanted."

He's sucker punched almost. "The sex love? It won't bloody kill me not to-"

But she's shaking her head and the other girls. . . Her sisters are taking their places around the shop. They stand on podiums and by displays and racks.

They are the display and they take on unnatural poses and expressions. Their eyes cold and blank while hers' are still green and wet.

He doesn't understand but he's suddenly afraid and he doesn't want to let her go. If he lets her go he knows she'll turn into what they're turning into. The hammering in her chest will stop. Her green eyes will turn dull and plastic.

He holds her like he can stop it all from happening and she kisses his collar, sniffing into what he knows must stink like dead cigarettes and mistakes.

"I'm sorry." She whispers. "I wanted to."

He feels her warm and alive against him even as her sisters turn cold and hard in their unnatural positions and expressions. He wants to take her out of this but he can't. He doesn't know the rules. He doesn't even know what he's stumbled into this time.

Like he ever does. He's John Constantine. This shit just keeps happening to him and around him and there's never anything he can do about it. Trying usually only makes things worse.

"Rita what's happening?" He asks finally, when all pretense is lost and useless. He's worried about her because she seems so miserable.

She swallows her tears and touches his cheek, eyes sad. "We only get the night." She say's, voice soft. "I did want you but it's almost Saturday and we danced too long. I forgot. I love dancing."

He thinks he maybe might understand as the eyes of her sisters fall on them. This was their special night. "Is there anything I can do?" He asks.

She actually smiles but it's wet and sad. "Will you hold me and then go? I don't want you to see."

He swallows and nods, holding her then and swaying with her, not really understanding what's being asked of him or what it all means to her. She's alive and human and her companions are still watching, eyes without judgement but there just the same. . .

The department store is eerie and silent and he feels out of place. He doesn't know why he's doing her this favor except she seems so sweet and sad and bright and he feels for her.

Rita is warm against him but then she pats his shoulder and shakes her head, hand on his cheek again. "You should go, John." She say's.

He feels like he's being kicked out of bed only they never made it that far. "What about you?"

She looks at his watch, taking his wrist in her own hands, gentle and soft. "It's almost Saturday." She say's. "Maybe I'll see you again though. Maybe. . ."

A dark haired woman on a podium clears her throat and Rita's eyes belay disappointment before he feels her lips on his again.

"Thank you, John. I feel so real." She whispers and he doesn't even kiss her back he's so broken by her grief.

He clasps her hand in his. "But aren't you real?" croaks.

"Just once a month."

He stares at her and can hear the sweep of the second hand on his watch now. It's like a executioner's blade. He can't get it out of his head. "What's going to happen?" He asks.

"I have to be ready for work in the morning." She whispers, voice less grief stricken. "Do you think I could see you again? You were so nice and I lead you on the whole time. I'd understand if you said no."

He's a little hurt she thinks so little of him. "You didn't do that." He say's. "I'll be around."

She smiles and then laughs but it's so much softer than any of her other laughter. Her hand is hard on his cheek. "I won't forget you even if you aren't."

He wants to assure her that he'll be around but he knows better than to make any promises. "The Chrippled Price, a month from now." He say's, making her laugh again.

"The Crippled Price." She whispers. "I'll look for you. Good bye John."

She let's him go and with one last smile retreats back into the racks of clothing and silent sisters to find her own pedestal.

In the morning she'll show the women of London all the latest looks, she'll gaze at them with hard, green eyes and perhaps in another month she'll get to dance again.

He suddenly feels very much alone and the hour strikes and there's no noise at all in the cavern of clothing and linens.

The make up counter as empty and the corners dark.

He puts his hands in his pockets and leaves.

He didn't get laid but it's been an alright night just the same.

He leaves through the door left unlocked and shuts it behind him, thinking of Rita and the stars above that he can't see. He lights up again outside and then smiles to himself, snorting softly through his nose.

Alright, you can't have everything and he didn't need to see what Rita became on Saturdays. Once a month she was the most brilliant thing in the room and he had gotten to dance with her and even kiss her.

He thinks it wasn't so bad and heads home to sleep alone.

Not the night he had planned for but probably the one he should have expected all along.

Either way, there had been worse ones.

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daniwib · 9 months

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Fanart for another amazing fic by @wingwyrm that has a special place in my heart.

Find it on Ao3 here

#evan buckley #shadow daniel #9-1-1 #hurt buck #buck whump #buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie fanart #supernatural elements #9-1-1 fanfiction #eddie diaz #911 fox #angst #angst with a happy ending

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naminethewriter · 10 months

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Enchanting Scales

Here's the second story for @loceitweek, this time with a more mysterious setting. Hope you enjoy 🥰

Masterpost | Loceit Week 2023 Masterpost | Ao3

Summary: Logan disliked masquerade balls but when he's approached by an enchanting stranger, he might just change his mind.

No content warnings

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Logan watched the crowd over the rim of his champagne glass. He hated balls in general and adding masks to the mix just made things worse in his opinion, because it led to people doing one of three things:

One: Do an intentionally bad job of hiding who they are so they can brag about being easy to recognize.

Two: Use the anonymity to be the biggest assholes without consequences.

Three: Actually just being decent.

The third category was the one Logan was a part of and sadly in the minority. Even from his spot leaning against the wall in a rather quiet corner, he could clearly hear the gossip being shared, hardly quieter than normal speaking volume because who would ever be able to track the source back to them? From elsewhere he could hear someone declaring that their hairstyle is just too recognizable to be mistaken. As if he couldn’t have styled it differently for the evening if he really didn’t want to be identified.

Logan sighed.

He truly hated being here, but he had to endure for at least another hour. He had promised his parents.

He took another sip of his champagne, eyes wandering over the crowd in the hopes of catching a glimpse of anything or anyone that would relieve him of his boredom.

“You look like you want to murder everyone in this room, darling,” a voice commented directly next to him making Logan flinch. He hadn’t seen – or heard – anyone approach, but there was a man standing by his side, smirking at him.

The man wore a yellow and black suit, immaculately ironed, with gloves covering his hands. His blond hair was tied in a long braid that laid across his shoulder and the right side of his face was covered by a rather simple black mask while the other side was covered in… were those scales?

“I know I look dashing, dear, but don’t you think you’re staring too much?” the stranger asked, still smirking. Logan startled out of his thoughts and looked away, blushing.

“I apologize, you caught me off guard.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Logan might have not been the best at reading social cues but even he could pick up on the other’s sarcasm. His blush deepened.

“I didn’t hear you approach. And your choice of attire is unusual, so I couldn’t help but… stare,” he justified awkwardly, causing the stranger to laugh.

“Don’t worry, darling, you haven’t been the first one this evening that lost their words from looking at me.” The easy confidence the stranger spoke with somehow worsened Logan’s flush, and he refused to look back at the other’s face.

“Well, I’m sure none of them expected to see someone with such, um, unique choice of make-up,” he commented after clearing his throat.

“Whatever do you mean?” the stranger asked in a very faux tone that showed his amusement.

“Your- the scales.”

“Oh, those aren’t make-up, darling. They’re real.”

“Huh?”

“They’re real,” the stranger repeated after Logan’s head snapped back to his face in surprise. “Would you like to touch them to confirm?”

“I couldn’t possibly… You shouldn’t allow-“

“Oh, I never said I would allow it.”

“But you asked-“

“I asked if you wanted to, not that you could.”

Logan was once again speechless, and the stranger seemed to take great pleasure in that fact. He was smirking at him and despite knowing that it would usually infuriate him to be treated like this, Logan couldn’t help but be enchanted by this man.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Excuse me?” Logan was entirely unable to follow the sudden switch of conversation topic. The stranger didn’t seem to mind, he simply held out his hand for Logan to take.

“A dance. If you would indulge me.”

Logan usually wasn’t much for dancing, and a glance at the other people on the floor enforced this. But he did want to spend more time with this stranger, for reasons he couldn’t – and didn’t really want to – understand. The other man cocked his head at his hesitation before taking a look at the dance floor himself.

“If you would rather we go outside, I wouldn’t mind,” he offered with a smile that still contained his cocky attitude but also held a softness that Logan couldn’t resist. With a nod, he took the strangers hand and let himself be led outside.

~~~

The cool breeze outside made Logan breathe a bit easier. The murmur of the crowd inside was cut off as the door behind them closed but the stranger didn’t stop pulling him away until they were in the middle of a flower garden a good distance away from any curious eyes.

“Is this better, darling?” the man asked, pulling Logan closer and moving him into waltzing position effortlessly. It took Logan a moment to regain his voice as he stared into the stranger’s eyes.

“But there’s no music,” he whispered finally. The man chuckled.

“That is quite alright, I am confident in my ability to keep the rhythm. Just let me lead.”

Unwilling to protest, Logan simply nodded and the stranger smiled before starting to waltz. And as he had promised, their rhythm didn’t falter and Logan found it much easier than ever before to follow his footsteps.

“You are quite talented, my dear,” the man commented after a few minutes of silent dancing, once again startling Logan out of his revelry.

“You are doing most of the work,” he reflected, blushing once more.

“And you are keeping up.”

Logan didn’t know how to answer that, so instead he asked, “Why me?”

“What do you mean, darling?”

“Why did you pick me, out of all the people in that room? I’m sure you could have had any partner you wanted.”

“I could have. And I did.”

“But why me?”

“Why not?”

Again, Logan didn’t really know how to answer. Because he was unremarkable? Because he was actively avoiding socializing? Because he usually was a killjoy?

But before he could spiral into self-doubt, the stranger spoke up again.

“You were interesting. You watched the room with eyes – very beautiful ones at that – that looked so bored and I couldn’t help but want to see a spark of something more in them.” Logan hadn’t noticed that they had stopped dancing until the stranger cupped his cheek and leaned in close, causing his breath to catch in his chest.

“I can see there is so much more to you than you show, so much intelligence behind that mask, that is wasted with people like them.”

Logan’s blush had returned tenfold, and the stranger seemed to notice because the smirk returned to his lips.

“I look forward to seeing your destiny unfold, my dear,” the stranger hummed, now so close that Logan could feel his breath ghosting over his lips. He didn’t dare move.

“Let us meet again under the full moon, my love, and then I will show you a world that will truly appreciate your talents.”

Those last words were whispered in Logan’s ear and then he blinked and the stranger was gone. He stood alone amongst the flowers, unsure of what just happened but he knew he wouldn’t be as bored anymore soon.

#namiswriting #loceit week 2023 #day 2: chalk/masks #loceit #ts logan #logan sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #human!au #so much flirting #janus might actually not be human #supernatural elements #fluff #open ending (kinda)#sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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