#the wisps also like to move shit too much for it to handle when it's stressing out...........

[lostinquisitor]

kind of funny to think that spite is elandhris favorite veilguard-era spirit companion at the lighthouse

[twipsai]

ive been wanting to do something like this for a while, so here we go

Silver's straightforward attitude and anxieties: a poorly formatted analysis

Silver's anxiety is something i havent seen talked about a lot, and im really just barely going beneath the surface here -- i hope i did it justice in anyway sfdkSKHJFDSKFH i think about his obvious anxiety disorder a lot

transcript of all the text i added under the cut incase its hard to read for some ppl ^_^

image 1 (source: IDW #8): "isnt really used to banter, got worried he actually offended Sonic"

"he worries a lot about not being useful, because thats pretty much his entire purpose in life. if hes not doing something, he will find something to do (badly) or panic. he gets nervous at the slightest insinuation that he mightve messed up because the last thing he ever wants to do is get in anyones way."

"for how powerful he is and how much shit he talks, Silver doesnt really think very good about himself or his own worth."

image 2 (source: Sonic Universe #82): "its hard to say anything here that i havent already said, its just another example os Silver having issues with his self wroth, and also a lot of his motivation coming from protecting the people he loves (and, more generally, protecting the world), considering a page after this he gets up and completely wrecks the Second Devourer"

image 3 (source: IDW #8): "Silver will take pretty much anything literally. he lacks the social skills to identify when someones being serious bc he grew up completely alone"

image 4 (source: IDW #14): "he cant lie (is both bad at it, and it really just doesnt cross his mind to do so), but he can change the subject"

"he also really doesnt like it when people are worried about him -- almost every time people show concern for him, he tries (and fails) to lie or change the subject"

image 5 (source: IDW #14): "he didnt see anything suspicious about [Starline giving the "vault code"] because he doesnt usually assume people lie directly to him, its just not something that usually crosses his mind"

image 6 (source: IDW #60, TSR interview): "Silver's rudeness, his naivete, misunderstanding of jokes/quips/banter, inability to lie, it all stems from his straightforwardness. its simple, but but oftentimes effective (yes i chose a bad page to showcase when it works, ignore that)"

"Silver doesnt like to beat around the bush or show off too often. go in, defeat the bad guys, get out. it ties in with his anxiety of the future -- time is always of the essence"

"Q: What are some of your favorite items to use during the race?

Silver: [...]but the Jade Wisps' "Ghost" is the only one I like. I can disappear and focus on the race."

"it does make him forget to stratagize and cooperate with his friends sometimes, though, when his first instinct is "hit it until it stops moving""

image 7 (source: Sonic Rivals 2): "im not really going over his bluntness in this, but literally the entirety of Rivals 2 covers that. he doesnt think to hide what hes doing because he knows hes in the right, so he just expects everyone else to know that. he expects people to believe him just because hes telling the truth. he doesnt see why he would have a reason to lie, so he never thinks to justify his actions."

"a lot of this bluntness is also shown in IDW #64 -- Silver cant be stealthy and observe someone from afar to save his life when he knows hes right about them. he really takes no time to explain that Duo is Mimic before Whisper steps in and attacks Mimic, even though if he took the time to talk through what happened, he probably couldve convinced Lanolin of Duo's true nature"

image 8 (source: IDW annual 2022): "Silver has pretty much zero idea how to navigate the world outside of helping other people and saving the world. he is almost constantly in "survival mode" and doesnt know how to handle low-stakes"

"(he sometimes takes casual conversation too seriously because of this)"

"he is constantly worried about the future. to an almost unhealthy degree sometimes, its often all he thinks about. when he knows exactly what to do, he comes off as confident and powerful, but when he doesnt know what to do..."

"...he completely spirals. to him, an uncertain future is worse than a doomed one. not knowing how to fix things is one of the most terrifying thoughts to him."

"if Espio hadn't been here to calm him down, i think its super likely he'd have had an anxiety attack."

image 9 (source: Sonic Generations, IDW #64, Team Sonic Racing, Sonic Universe #79): "like, i truly cannot emphasize enough how he cannot relax. anything can be a threat, and if he doesnt see an immediate one, he will find something that is one. "

"he can rarely calm down, because every second hes in the past is another second he should be saving the future"

"i cant properly showcase it here, but if you run past him in Gens, he'll immediately be on-guard."

"he has to always be looking for the next world-destroying foe, it's pretty much his default setting."

"there are tons more examples of his overt anxiety, but these are some of the more prominant examples."

image 9 (source: Archie Sonic #235): "we even see in the traitor arc in archie how Silver is constantly paranoid. the idea never crosses his mind that there is no traitor, because something is always wrong. hes like a machine built to find a problem with no off switch"

"almost anything can set him off and make him untrusting of anyone, because thats the only way he knows how to live. anything can be a threat in his eyes, and when there is no threat, he will either find one or panic that he cant find one."

"because when you spend your entire life fighting,"

"how else are you supposed to live?"

[that-guy-jin]

Day Nineteen: Taken

TW: Vulgarity, A character about to be raped. Along one of the main routes that led back to Kugane, the duo had set camp nearby, the sun beginning to set. They had left Akimura Village a bit late, having been prepared in the off-chance that they wouldn't be able to see their journey to its end destination before nightfall. Suki extended her hands towards the campfire, invoking her aether and setting the lumber alight. She grew excited, thrilled to see that she was gaining a solid grasp on learning how to harness these powers. She had Jin to thank for this, the man being more than happy to mentor her with these things when they still resided in the settlement.

"Look!", she said, beckoning him to observe her small accomplishment.

He stepped out of the tent, chuckling a bit at the display, "Very good, little love. You're getting a good handle on all of it. With enough practice and dedication, everything will be just as easy and natural as that."

She donned a warm smile, a warmth spreading across her cheeks at his praise and the confidence in his tone. "Thank you, heh…"

The viara situated himself by her, gathering warmth from the flame, an added layer as the raen scooted closer to him, her tail trying to wrap around his backside. "How much longer do we have left?"

Jin thought on the question, looking back on the path towards the port city, "Mmm…I'd say about 4 or 5 hours. Honestly, we could make it there if we kept going, though I don't want to risk it with how these roads can be."

The girl nodded, understanding the threats that a midnight travel could pose for the two of them. Sure, Jin on his own would be relatively fine, but even Suki knew that at her age and the fact she was still learning how to properly defend herself, it would cause more hindrance than anything else. While this did sadden her a bit, she also realized it couldn't be helped, trying to not beath herself up too much.

As night properly feel, the two would enjoy their meals, as well as indulging in stories and interests, before eventually turning in. The night had been relatively quiet, though that silence had fell to a deafening level as even the natural sounds of the forest came to halt. The only thing that could be heard was the faint rustling of leaves along the canopy of trees surrounding them as wind blew. Something wasn't right, almost as if it was an unsettling calm…

In an instant, the flame that acted as their light source wisped away before a bloodcurdling scream sounded out. Jin jolted awake, the space next to him empty. Panic had quickly and thoroughly set in, a ringing in his ears as he realized.

"Jin! Please!", a frantic plea for help echoed through the forest, the distance of it fading further and further away.

In the same instant her cry reached his ears, he had picked up his blade and set off towards the source. Suki had been taken by someone or something, and it was moving at a frightening pace. His mind's initial fog clearing, his breathing centered, concentrated; a veining streak lining parts of his body as he focused, his speed gaining as he tracked the cries, the faint path left in the suspect's wake. "N-No, please! Please! Don't, I don't know-" Her desperation grew nearer, Jin eventually coming to a dead halt to the display before him.

His gaze widened, a cold sweat breaking out and his heart suddenly racing as he realized, muttering under his breath, "Shit…A-"

His own words were cut off, his sentence and thoughts being finished with a chuckle, "Satori?~ Well…seems you know your stuff. That's a surprise. Most, if not all…don't make it long enough to know that and live to share."

A satori; a malicious ape-like yokai with the ability to easily read one's mind, often mocking them by proclaiming the thoughts aloud, as well as knowing their every move two steps ahead of time. While some say these monsters can be harmless and even coexist; at least in this case, that's far from the truth. Suki was face down on the ground, trembling with fear, the beast mounting himself on top of her, matted digits around her throat, arching her head up to look at Jin. Tears started to streak down her face, quietly sobbing, the satori indulging as his long tongue slicked across her face, staring the viara down.

"Delicious~" He chuckled, his tone one of twisted temptation. "She's…just perfect, isn't she?~ Was that the plan for you?~"

The foe heckled Jin, trying to provoke him into doing some irrational, though Jin kept his ground, thinking of something, anything that could get her out of this. It would prove difficult, knowing the satori could read any and every thought that crossed his mind.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

[novamirmirsblog]

Mission gone right

Hi guysss. This is 18+ ty :3

Word count: 1596

Genre: Smut, kinda dark? R is bad basically

Request: no

Warnings: Wanda sex magic, swearing, alcohol (think that's it)

A/N: we got votes for both angst and smut so I kinda combined both? I feel like this isn't angsty enough so imma write something super angsty next. Then I'll go back and do some more spidey duo xxx

"What to do, what to do, what to do..." You paced back and forth around your living room. "Ugh!" throwing your hands up in the air, you flopped down on the sofa, leaving your legs dangling over the arm. Switching on the TV, you saw that there was a new display at an art gallery. You looked around your walls and saw nothing as pretty as the painting on the TV.

"I guess one more couldn't hurt..."

The TV then changed to show that the Avengers were making a special appearance considering Tony Stark owned the gallery and it was it's opening night.

With newfound determination, you got dressed in a red dress with a neckline that dropped all the way to just above your navel and a slit that went all the way up to the middle of your left thigh. The dress gave you the freedom to move but still looked like it was just something pretty to wear. You grabbed your clutch (because god forbid a woman has pockets) and headed out.

~~~~~

Soft music played as people with more money than sense wandered around the gallery. Women wore pearls loosely and men had watches just begging to be taken. You had to focus. You were there for one reason and one reason only. The oil painting apparently cost millions. You didn't really care about that - it was a nice touch, sure - but not the reason you wanted it. You told yourself it was because it was a pretty picture but maybe it was more to do with the fact a pretty mindreader was going to be there tonight.

So far, you had done well to avoid the guards and cameras. You had stolen from this place a few times before and you knew that they rarely changed their security because you had cameras on them. You had seen a few of 'Earth's mightiest heroes' and had tried to ignore the disappointment you felt when it wasn't Wanda.

It's not like the two of you had history, but you were at HYDRA when the twins were too. You were a failed experiment. Your powers were useful, but not useful enough. They also took a little time to form. Time that Strucker didn't want to waste. You, Wanda and Pietro spent about a year together before they went to the 'good side' and you delved deeper into what your powers could do for you. You'd think that HYDRA would love the fact you could convince people of anything and erase all traces that you had ever been somewhere, but apparently they weren't looking for spies, they had enough of those.

You strolled around until you made it to the bathroom, waiting there for the rest of the evening. You had everything planned, walk up to the picture, take it from it's frame and leave out the front door. Everything was going according to plan until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey! What are you doing there!" You opened your mouth to speak but you were grabbed and dragged round the corner and into a storage room.

It was Wanda.

"What the hell are you doing here!" Wanda whisper shouted as guards jogged past our hiding place.

"Same as you apparently." You realised Wanda hadn't noticed how close the two of you were, cupoards were very small...

"You just fucked up my night out."

"Sorry darling, at least my night is going splendidly." You winked and leaned in closer, watching as the anger transformed to lust on her face.

You were taller than Wanda by maybe half a head so she had to look up at you as she tried to formulate a reason to get out of there. Technically, she didn't even have to be there. She could walk out right now and the guards wouldn't even bat an eye and yet something was making her stay.

You moved slightly and Wanda groaned ever so faintly. It was so quiet that you would have missed it if you hadn't been so close to her. You then realised that your leg was conveniently placed between Wanda's, and what can you say? The storage cupboard was small. It wasn't your fault.

Okay, it was maybe a little bit your fault.

"Oh darling, has no one been taking care of you?" You mocked, leaning in and whispering over the shell of her ear "Want me to take care of that?"

Wanda froze even more. Her mind was racing so fast that there was no possible way for her to read yours even though she was desperate to do so. She hadn't seen you in forever but when she glanced over when Tony was telling her a particularly boring story, she couldn't help but gasp at how beautiful you were. Wanda had hoped that you were just there to admire the art work but she knew, deep down, that that would be too good to be true.

"Cat got your tongue?" You were unaware of the turmoil you caused for Wanda. Too focused on your own fun and the way her suit hugged her in all the right places. You wanted nothing more than to fuck her there and then. You didn't want a meaningful relationship with Wanda, just something physical. The two of you were occasional fuck buddies when you were both at HYDRA - the relationship turning slightly toxic very quickly.

You both liked to see how quickly one could get the other jealous. Whether that meant flirting with other people and making sure the other one saw, or just outright sleeping with whoever was nearest. While it seemed that Wanda had grown out of that toxicity, finding love with a glorified Alexa, you never had.

"Why save me darling? I can handle myself."

"You were two seconds from being caught" It was a little disheartening to hear her accent slipping, the last little piece that reminded you of the Wanda she used to be.

"No. No I wasn't." you lifted her chin up and spoke into her neck "I don't need you to save me."

Wanda let out another groan, much louder this time as her hips bucked on your thigh.

"Shhh" You chuckled lowly "We don't want anyone to hear you, right?"

You grabbed her hips and kissed her. It was rough and fast. Wanda whimpered and began grinding harder, trying to get more friction. One hand traced lightly on Wanda's thigh and the other tugged at her waistband. Wanda got rid of them instantly with her magic and you slipped your hand into her panties.

"Shit sweetheart, your toaster not giving you the satisfaction you need?"

"I don't want to think about him" Wanda let out with a slight growl, her accent getting heavier again, like how it was when you knew her.

"Sweetheart when I'm done with you, you wont think of anything else for months."

"God you're a cocky bitch. You're all talk and no action."

"No?" You pushed two fingers into her. You weren't feeling nice enough to start off slow and she was wet enough for it anyway.

Wanda's back arched as she let out a moan and you kissed her chest, her blazer falling open to reveal an extremely unbuttoned shirt. She tried to push your hand further, desperately chasing her release but you pulled away, taking your hand and licking your fingers, watching as Wanda gulped.

"Please..."

"But darling, I think the guards are gone." You smirked as the witch basically threw a temper tantrum.

"So? I haven't felt this good in so long" Wanda shoved her own hand back to where yours was. It was strangely extremely hot to see her try and get back to her high. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at you. You could see the red wisps surrounding you before you nearly doubled over, looking up at Wanda who wore an evil smile.

"Now you know how I feel. Are you going to get back to it?" Wanda had never done this before. When you had known her, she had little to no control over her powers, only being able to control things with her mind and read others thoughts. She had been practicing.

"Fuck you."

"Well yes, that's what I'm trying to get you to do."

You dropped to your knees and took the rest of her underwear off, slowly licking her as she swung a leg over your shoulder. "Shit y/n, just like that."

You worked your fingers in and out of her, feeling everything you were doing to her on yourself thanks to her magic. You got slightly sloppy as you both neared your climaxes. You suck and bit along her thigh and on her clit until you felt her clench around your fingers. You both saw stars as her magic continued to fuck you, drawing out your orgasms until you were both sweaty messes.

~~~~~

You never did get the painting that night. You didn't really get anything you wanted that night. You sat on the top of your building, one leg swinging and a bottle of something strong in your hand, just watching the city buzz at night. As you sat there watching the tiny people come home from their jobs to their loving families, you wondered if you could have had something like that with Wanda. Then you laughed as you remembered that she was probably wrapped up in the arms of Siri, taking another swig from the bottle, you got up and prepared for your next job.

[imaginedisish]

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards (Tenet) Neil x Reader

A/N: Hey there guys!!! I’m back...again ahhhhh. I’ve been gone for a while (I always am) but hopefully I’ll be back for a while now :) I hope you’re all staying safe and doing well. I know the world is ass, but hopefully things will be better soon. Anyway, I’m obsessed with Tenet right now and I decided that I had to write a Neil x Reader one shot (I love Robert Pattinson, it’s a problem) Also, I think this is my longest fic yet...if someone wants to let me know how to do the “keep reading” thing, please tell me omg. I’m so sorry to those who have to scroll through this. Hopefully I can change that. Anyway folks, ENJOY!!!

p.s pls request tenet stuff. gimme some smut to write.

Summary: You allow your feelings for Neil to get in the way, causing you to compromise the mission and put everyone in danger. (AU, obviously because of the reader insert, and also because this particular scene does not actually happen in the movie).  ~loosely based off “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala~

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, guns, blood, wounds, cursing, angst, possibly implications of being “lovers (or friends with benefits)” and luckily fluff :) 

Word Count: 4,163 (Please fucking teach me how to add the “read more” thing holy shit)

You storm down the cold, grey, skinny hallway lit with dimmed fluorescents. There was something inexplicably chilling about this place, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on exactly what that thing was. Maybe it was the way the lights reflected against the walls, glowing subtly against the tiles. It wasn’t a pretty glow. It was the glow one could expect to see along the walls of a morgue. 

Maybe it was the peculiar, dull ringing that followed you down the corridor, haunting your every step. Maybe it was the simple sound of your heels clicking against the concrete floors, and the idea that those clacks could call someone to your very location and leave you absolutely defenseless. Maybe it was the fact that you only had two bullets left in your glock. 

Or, it was because he wasn’t with you anymore. 

You quickly shake off the thought that he, of all people, could make you feel better. You didn’t need him. Hell, you didn’t need anyone, you thought to yourself. But still, your mind kept circling back to the image of him popping up in front of you, taking your hand and leading you away to- 

You cut yourself off. You couldn’t let your mind wonder for that long, especially about Neil. Still, you can’t help but flash back to just minutes ago, when Neil was by your side, when you made the massive mistake of letting your feelings get away of the mission. 

Neil pulled you down the hall, his hand firmly clasped around the upper part of your right arm. He was practically dragging you with him since you couldn’t keep up with his speed. 

Finally, Neil yanks you into an alcove, hoping you two can hide for at least a few minutes before running again. 

“Neil you need to give me an answer, what the fuck is-,” Suddenly, Neil pushes you against the wall, his right hand presses hard on your hip while his left hand covers your mouth. His face is in yours. Any personal space between you two is non-existent. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. He’s so close that you can feel wisps of his dirty blonde hair dance across your forehead. 

He smirks, “No time for answers.” You felt a twinge in your stomach, like butterflies, or maybe something much more gross, because now was not the time for Neil to make you feel this sort of way. 

The worst part is that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He carefully selects each and every movement he makes. He removes his hand from your mouth and places it at the nape of your neck instead, his thumb brushing lightly just below your hairline. 

You stifle a quiet moan at his touch. “N-Neil, what are you doing?” Your voice is quiet, but shaky. 

“Keeping you calm, I can tell you’re about to lose it,” He says matter-of-factly. Of course that’s the only reason, there’s nothing romantic here, and there never will be. 

‘Neil will never feel the way I feel about him’ you think to yourself. You can’t help but get a bit angry at his ability to put you under his spell. Despite your heart racing, despite your brain being bent out of shape by the close proximity of Neil, you can’t help but feel calmer. And you hated that. You were too stubborn for your own good. 

He breaks the silence, “Are you alright? I figured you’d have something to say. You said you wanted to talk to me before, didn’t you?” 

Before…when you had planned on telling him how you felt. You were going to tell him before.  Before the mission escalated past the point of return. Before you had ruined everything. Before Neil risked his life to bring you to safety. You had fucked up this time, insurmountably. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but you didn’t make it much better. 

Neil blew the entire team’s cover all to save you. You forgot the script, all because you were far too concerned with how you were going to handle your feelings for Neil. It wasn’t just any mission, either. It had to do with Sator’s henchmen. This was Tenet’s way in. This was how you could get more information. This was how you could save the world. 

And yet, you brought it all down. Somehow, Sator’s men believed that you were the only spy, and that everyone else was legitimate. They were going to kill you and spare the others, but Neil practically threw you out of the room and down the hall before anything could happen. The second he grabbed you, gun shots erupted. Now you had to pay for it, hiding in a barely-lit, cold hallway, with Sator creeping somewhere close behind, ready to attack. 

Suddenly, the guilt began to overwhelm you. What if this was it, what if you would be the reason Neil would die? What if your actions destroy the mission all together? Tears free themselves from your eyes, sliding slowly down your cheeks. 

“Hey,” Neil whispers as he moves the hand that rested on your neck up to your left cheek. He wipes away a few tears with his thumb. “It’s alright. We’re going to be fine, don’t worry-,”

Before he can get another word out, you grab his hand. “Stop, please, just stop,” You plead, unable to take anymore. He has to know what he’s doing to you, he just has to, you think, as your sadness slowly turns to anger. It irritated you that he was able to swoop in and save your day. It irritated you that he was able to touch you and comfort you, despite the lack of relationship that you desperately wanted fulfilled more than anything. None of this was fair. It wasn’t fair that he could be this non-nonchalant while you were practically doubled over with butterflies and other real anxieties from the situation you were currently in. 

Neil looks a bit more annoyed now. “I’m just trying to help,” He says, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Those eyes, you could drown in them if you weren’t careful, so you snap back into reality, allowing yourself to feed into your anger. 

“Maybe I don’t need your help,” You say, instantly regretting the words as they leave your lips. 

The corners of Neil’s mouth turn up slightly, his cocky attitude showing yet again. “So back there, earlier,” He gestures backwards, to the past, “You didn’t need my help?” 

You shake your head, “I’m just sick of this.”

Neil’s smile fades away as a confused look finds itself on his face. “Of what?” There’s a sadness in his voice. “Us?” 

His use of“Us” immediately takes you back. ‘What the fuck does he mean by “Us”?’ You ask yourself. You were undeniably close, but he never confirmed or denied his feelings for you.

Your stomach does a back flip before you allow yourself to grow angry again. 

“There is no ‘Us’, and that’s the problem Neil,” You say, pushing him off of you. He stumbles out of the alcove and rushes back in, closing the space between you and him once again. 

Neil gives you a puzzled look.“Bloody hell,” you hear him mumble under his breath. “What the fuck are you talking?” There’s a seriousness in his voice now. His cocky facade disappears into nothingness. He’s frustrated, and it’s all because of you. 

You just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to say it. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel.” Your voice is louder now, and it seems as though you’re practically begging to give away your hiding spot. “Neil I-,”

He covers your mouth with his left hand once again. “Alright that’s it,” His voice is still quiet, “You’re the one that needs to stop now. You don’t know how much I-,” 

You push him into the wall before he can get a word out, just as he had interrupted you seconds ago. 

You step out into the hallway. “I don’t know what? How much you don’t care about me?” You notice the sudden pain in Neil’s face. You didn’t expect that, but you also refuse to believe it’s real. “I don’t need you, Neil. I never have and I never will.” 

You begin walking down the hallway as Neil whisper shouts your name, trying to get you to come back without blowing your cover. 

“(Y/N)! Please!” He calls out. 

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and stops you dead in your tracks, “(Y/L/N), I’ve been waiting to meet you.” It’s a familiar voice, a voice you’ve heard before. It’s bitter, callous and malignant. A chill runs up your spine as the name of the voice dawns on you. You flinch, quickly stepping backwards and spinning around to look at the devil-man in front of you. Although, you know he would prefer if you referred to him as a god. 

“Sator,” You curse, spitting on the ground disrespectfully. You brandish your gun, trying to put on your best fake-confident face. Sator doesn’t know you only have two bullets left, and quite frankly he doesn’t need to, you think to yourself. 

Before you can even aim, Sator launches towards you. 

You jump back, and turn around to run. There’s no way you could get away from him in what you were wearing. Your black kitten heals slowed you down a great deal. Your tight, black dress made it hard for you to move in any way at all. 

Sator is right behind you. You kick off your heels, allowing you to speed up a bit. While running barefoot is much better, you know you can’t last forever. You run for a few more seconds before realizing that Sator is only getting closer. 

You turn around, back peddling now. You hold your glock up and aim. 

BANG! 

The bullet misses Sator and ricochets off the tiled wall. What the fuck? You think to yourself as the bullet falls to the ground. The walls must be bullet proof or something. 

Sator is almost within an arm’s reach of you. You lift your gun again and take aim. 

BANG!

But it’s no use. you miss again. This time, the bullet hits such an angle that it comes back straight towards you. It grazes against your left side. 

“FUCK!” You cry out in pain, stumbling a bit. You try your best to continue running, but the pain is far too great to keep going. You feel your legs starting to give out. You crumble to the ground, letting a small whimper of pain escape your lips. You grab your side, blood draining into your hands and onto the floor. 

Sator chuckles maliciously. “You seriously thought you could get away? This is my place. You’re playing in my world,” He shakes his head and reaches for his gun. He points the weapon directly at your head,

“And just so you know, I’m God here.” 

Tears form in your eyes as you hear the gun cock. You brace yourself for impact as your thoughts find their way back to Neil. You hate how you left things, especially considering that would be the last conversation he ever had with you. Guilt began to grow heavy in your stomach. 

What a way to die, totally and completely guilty, a failure, and alone, You think to yourself, as tears fall down your cheeks.

Sator chuckles again. “Crying are we know? Too late for tears, (Y/N). I think you’re all out of time.” You shudder at his words and you prepare for this moment to be your last, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“No! (Y/N)!” A familiar voice cries out from behind you. 

BANG!

You open your eyes to see Sator standing in his place, the gun now pointing above your head. You look down and see a single bullet right next to you. It must have ricochetted off the wall, just like yours did. But where did it come from? You think. 

Turning around slowly, you spot who Sator is pointing his gun towards.

“N-Neil,” You stutter, wincing in pain simply from talking. His gun points back at Sator. His eyes nervously look you up and down. This was far different from when the evening started. You remembered the way Neil looked at you when you had finished getting ready. You remember how he knocked on the door to your hotel room and let himself in. He didn’t wait for you to give him the okay. 

“Wow,” Neil said, taken back by your tight, little black dress. He looked you up and down, seemingly removing each article of clothing in his head. “You look incredible.” 

You missed that moment now. You wish you could just go back. But now you were faced with reality, with a gun in your face. 

Sator looks down at you, and back up to Neil. “I think I’ll let you watch her die, and only after you watch her take her last breath, I’ll kill you too. How’s that?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Neil states confidently. You look up at him, confused. 

Just as Sator pulls the trigger, Neil grabs your arm and slides you out of the way. 

In the near distance, just a short ways behind Sator, you see a fiery cloud of orange erupt, followed by a massive boom. Neil somehow was able to orchestrate some sort of explosion.

Sator stops in his tracks and turns to look behind him, giving Neil just enough time to pick you up and run down the hallway, turning down a series of other corridors in an attempt to outrun Sator. 

It isn’t long before Neil realizes that you’re bleeding onto him. “H-holy shit,” He looks down to your left side. “I need to get you out of here.” 

You ignore what he’s saying. “Why did you come back for me?” You whisper to Neil. 

He steals a quick look at you as he continues to run down the hallway, but he doesn’t answer your question. 

You clear your throat and try again. “Why did you come back?” 

He ignores you again as you approach an intersection of 3 hallways, each one looking the exact same as the one you’re currently in. Neil pauses for a second, contemplating his options. His heart is beating out of his chest. You’ve never seen him this nervous. While you had only been at Tenet for about half a year now, you had grown to know Neil far too well. The stolen moments you shared, the kisses you swore to tell no one about. You didn’t know what you were with Neil. You didn’t know if this was superficial or real to him. But, you knew his emotions like you knew the back of your hand. You could tell he was panicking. You had never seen him quite like this. Something was different. Suddenly, Neil grunts and choses to go down the hallway to your right. 

You wanted to say something to him, to talk to him, but you felt yourself falling in and out of consciousness. You knew you needed to stay awake. Neil looked down to check on you and immediately noticed your condition. 

“Stay with me, okay?” He begged. You had never heard Neil talk like this before. “Please stay with me. I’m right here, it’s going to be okay.” He started to pick up his pace, practically sprinting down the hallway now. 

“N-Neil?” You managed to call out to him. 

“Yes, darling?” He responded between gasps for air. You could tell that he was getting tired. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking around his body for any signs of blood or even for a possible gun shot wound. 

Neil starts to slow down a bit. He looks down at you again, “I’m alright. It’s you I’m worried about.” 

“You’re not actually worried, are you?” You ask. 

Neil stops for a second, completely out of breath. He takes this as an opportunity to look at your injuries again. He puts his hand over your wound and feels all the blood that’s there. He shakes his head, clearly nervous about how much blood you’ve lost. He readjusts his hold on you, making sure you’re secured in his arms.

He brings his face closer to yours. “Fuck, of course I’m worried about you,” He says in a stern tone. He seems annoyed at the thought that you didn’t know he cared about you. “What the fuck would make you think otherwise?” He isn’t just annoyed now, he’s angry, yet he doesn’t take his face away from yours. You can feel his breath on your nose, just like you did before. The wisps of his hair greet your forehead again too. 

“I-I guess I just don’t know how to read you,” You say, taking a deep breath once you finish your sentence. Neil quickly picked up on your labored breathing and began to jog again. 

There’s silence for just a few seconds before Neil finds the right words to say. “I came back for you because I care about you. The second you left I chased after you. You were just far too quick for me.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest. You didn’t know how much he cared for you. You figured he only saw you as a member of the team, a coworker, a girl to flirt with, someone he had to care for out of convenience and association. The way he was speaking now lead you to believe that he cared for you far beyond that. You stare up into his blue eyes, gathering the courage to finally confess how you feel to him. You felt yourself slipping more quickly out of consciousness, and you desperately wanted him to know how you felt. 

“Neil, I just want you to know that-,”

Your words are interrupted by the loud swinging of a door. Suddenly, you’re outside the now flaming building and in the bitter, dark night. The wind whips and nips at your bare skin. You take a quick look around and remember that you’re in Amsterdam. At least it’s a pretty place to die, You think to yourself. You shiver as the wind attacks you again. 

Neil notices how cold you are. He sets you down on a nearby bench and takes his brown suit jacket off, draping it over you. He picks you up and starts jogging again. 

Just a short ways up the street is the BMW he had been driving for the mission. He opens the car door with one hand, making sure to keep you nestled into his chest with the other. He puts you down on the passenger’s seat, buckles you in, and carefully shuts the door. 

When he gets in on the other side, he sees you drifting off again. “Come on, (Y/N), stay with me, please,” He pleads. He leans over to you and gently kisses your forehead. Your eyelids throw themselves open as Neil’s lips leave your skin. He starts the car engine and begins to drive away. He doesn’t say a thing, but you can’t stop thinking about what just happened. 

“What was that?” You ask, wondering if he simply did that to distract you, to wake you up. He had to know what effect he had on you. 

Neil doesn’t say a thing. He only speeds up, blasting through red lights and ignoring stop signs. You look over at him. He looks like an absolute mad man. His dirty blonde hair is a mess. Dark, purple bags rest under his blue eyes. 

At one point, Neil turns the on the radio and glances at you. “Try to listen to some music, maybe it can keep you awake.” Or maybe his concern for your well being could be enough motivation for you. 

It feels like I only go backwards baby,

Every part of me says, “Go ahead”

I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again,

Feels like we only go backwards, darling. 

Neil somehow gets even faster. You notice that he’s pushing the gas pedal all the way into the floor of the car. You manage to get out one final sentence before losing consciousness, “If I don’t die from this wound, I might die from your driving.”

Then, your eyes shut and the whole world goes black. 

——

Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut, but you force them to open. There’s an arm pulling you in tightly to a firm, warm chest. You inhale deeply, instantly recognizing the scent. 

It was Neil. His face was right in front of yours. He looked so calm, so relaxed. Either this was Heaven, or he somehow managed to save your life from his hotel room. You were hoping it was the latter. You wanted this to be real life.

Neil began to stir about a bit, but his arm never left your back. In fact, the more he stirs, the closer you seem to get to him. You decide to take it all in, because you know reality is going to come crashing down eventually. You know Neil is going to back off of you, apologize, and quickly say that he was merely watching over you to make sure you weren’t dying and didn’t mean to fall asleep. There was no way that he meant to hold you like that. 

“Good morning,” Neil said casually, not taking his arm off of you. He manages to pull you even closer still. Now your noses are touching. A playful smile stretches across Neil’s lips. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’re shocked, too shocked to say a thing. 

Your silence makes Neil concerned, “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Are you in pain?”

You smile at him, “No, everything is okay. Of course I’m in pain, but this feels good.” Neil’s smile reappears. But, you’re still confused. “I just need to know something Neil,” You say, as the smile disappears from Neil’s face yet again. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks as he draws letters on your back, or at least that’s what it feels as though he’s doing.  

You shake your head slightly. “Nothing is the matter,” You pause, recalling the events of the previous night. “It’s just, am I okay? How much blood did I loose? And Neil I need to know how you feel about-,” 

Neil abruptly cuts your rambling off, “You’re alright. I took care of you after you passed out. I cleaned out the wound and sowed you up. It was easier to do with you asleep, to be honest. I don’t think you would’ve like it very much,” Neil grins before continuing, “Luckily your heart rate stayed completely stable the whole time.” 

You nod your head, waiting for him to address the half asked question towards the end of your rambling that he seemed to get the understanding of. But, there’s no response. 

You decide it’s time to say something. It can’t wait any longer. “Neil, I need to know what all this means. I need to know how you feel about me.” 

“Likewise,” He returns, but there’s no grin upon his face. He’s serious, if not somber. 

Regardless, you’re annoyed. “Likewise?” You repeat back to him. “I’ve liked you since the second I saw you, and I feel as though I’ve made that abundantly clear. I’ve given you all the signs, all the hints, and you just continue to play these stupid ga-,”

Neil cuts you off, “I had to sit there and watch you almost die. I worked on your wound all night. I’ve been fucking terrified for the past 12 hours wondering whether or not you would make it. I ditched the team to make sure you were safe, and I don’t regret that choice one bit. These aren’t games (Y/N). Being in love with someone isn’t a fucking game.” 

Silence fills the room. Being in love with someone…those words repeated over and over again in your head. You couldn’t let them go. 

Neil catches gaze and holds it. He’s waiting for something from you, but you don’t know how to communicate how you feel anymore. It was like he broke you. 

You know Neil can’t take the tension anymore, and before you can say a word, Neil’s lips hungrily crash into yours. He grabs your waist carefully, keeping you pulled in tight without hurting your wound. 

Neil’s lips leave yours. “Are you happy now?” He asks, brushing where he just was with his thumb. 

“Y-yes,” You say, wanting more. 

“Then it’s settled,” Neil states confidently. He smiles slyly, as he always does.

You’re confused beyond belief. “What is?”

“That you’re mine,” Neil says, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb. He brings your face closer to his, and kisses you again. 

[hewwocopter]

Irony

Monkey King was always awful at keeping secrets.

Posted on Ao3 as well! (1395 words)

MK caught Monkey King rubbing his left eye. He frowned at the sight of it; it had been itching a lot lately, by what Monkey King had said when MK first questioned him about it.

“It’s no big deal, bud. It’s just healing.”

Healing from what? His mentor had never explained what had caused him to return so late, covered in scratches and minor injuries nonetheless.

What concerned MK the most was that while the simain’s injuries were healing steadily, the nick above his left eye was not. The cut eyebrow refused to grow back, and the line began to form into the beginnings of… a scar.

Now Monkey King was constantly scratching at the eye, rubbing at it in every spare moment he was on the ship.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed of course, MK had shared a glance with Tang after a particular instance that Monkey King was sweeping the deck of the ship (he was given the job as to not overexert himself, much to his dismay). He had paused and cursed under his breath, and upon the observant looks of Tang and MK, he remarked he had gotten some dust in his eyes.

Yeah, MK snorted in disbelief as the king turned away. For the fourteenth time that day. Tang didn’t look as though he had believed him either, but he chose not to comment. Monkey King was awful at keeping secrets, it would seem.

MK had decided he was finally going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. By confronting his mentor about the problem at hand.

Before he could do that, however, Monkey King yelled and jumped away from his sweeping spot. The broom clattered to the floor, and in its place a puff of purple smoke erupted.

“It’s Macaque, everyone get back-“ Monkey King started, before he was cut off by snickering.

“Aww, Peaches. You ruined the surprise.” A blurry visage could be seen in the smoke, before Monkey King cleared it with a brush of his hand. “Come on. A little element of mystery never hurt anyone.”

MK couldn’t believe his eyes. Macaque was here on the ship! But how?

Macaque turned over to the boy, ignoring Monkey King. The others began to emerge from different parts of the ship from the noise.

“Uhhh who the heck is that?” Pigsy questioned. “You said Macaque? Who the heck is-“ He was cut off by Mei.

Mei’s priorities lay somewhere else. “Evil Monkey King?”

Tang and Sandy both remained silent, opting to observe the situation.

“Good to see you’re still alive, kid.” The shadow smirked.

“Excuse me.” Monkey King cleared his throat, making himself known. “I’m giving you five seconds to get the hell off this ship before I throw you off of it.”

Macaque finally faced Monkey King, looked him up and down, and guffawed. His lighter counterpart looked rightly offended at the disrespect that the other was showing and snarled.

“Oh, this is rich!” Macaque hugged himself and doubled over in laughter, while the others looked on in confusion. Monkey King only glared. “You seriously think you can take me on right now? Like that? Come on!”

While MK was still a little peeved at his mentor for leaving him on ‘vacation’, he wasn’t angry at him and therefore felt a right to defend him. “Hey! He can kick your a-“ A sharp look from Pigsy cut him right off. “euh- butt- any day of the week!”

Macaque wiped a tear off his face. “Doubt that, kiddo.” He straightened himself, addressing the crew. “Well, not right now at least. I’m surprised he still has enough power to hold up that glamour.”

Monkey King froze.

“What glamour?” Tang questioned.

MK slowly turned to face towards the monkey in question, who in turn slowly began to avoid his gaze.

“Uhhhh…”

Macaque decided to pour more salt onto the wound. “I guess it is sort of… eye-ronic. But also kind of a waste? I mean… you could be saving your powers for something more useful.”

Oh. Oh shit.

Sandy’s brows furrowed. “Monkey King, what is he talking about?”

“I don’t know, big guy.” Monkey King laughed nervously. “I don’t know if you’ve met this guy, probably not, but he’s a trickster. A liar. I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.”

“Oh ho ho, you wound me.” Macaque pretended to swoon, placing a paw over his heart. But his grin remained razor sharp. “Just like your eye. Who did that to you?”

MK’s heart dropped.

His suspicions were confirmed.

All eyes went on Wukong.

“You son of a bitch.” Monkey King growled out. “Nothing happened. Drop it.”

“Can you just give it up already?” Macaque sighed, shrugging. “We already know the jig is up. Gods, you were always horrible at keeping secrets.”

The king didn’t move, insisting on standing in place glaring at the other. The macaque stared back.

“Monkey King.” MK started, causing the older to startle and look over at him with wide eyes. “Please.”

They remained like that for a few moments, before the king finally relented. He sighed, air leaving him as well as a few wisps of magic.

MK knew what was coming, but he couldn’t hold back the gasp at what he saw. He wasn’t the only one either, as Mei dropped her phone and Sandy nearly lost his grip on Mo.

A milky white eye stared back at him. It wasn’t as intense as what Macaque’s had been by any means, but it still sent him reeling. It had healed mostly fine, with only a few blemishes in the skin here and there.

“I didn’t want you to see.”

“What?” MK found that the words tumbled out of him before he could stop them.

Monkey King’s gaze hardened. Even with that one eye out of commission, it held so much emotion. “You’d be discouraged. Right? The amazing Monkey King. Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Half blind. Partially deaf.”

MK’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re-“

The monkey continued, wiggling his finger. “Can’t use my shapeshifting powers anymore. So, you know, that’s probably a good sign.” He heaved a heavy, self deprecating sigh. “You know when that started?”

Everyone was silent.

“After I gave you my powers.”

What.

Wait, then that would mean...

The simian cut that line of thinking off right away. “I want to tell you this now. This was never your fault, MK. I chose you as my successor for a reason.” Monkey King walked over to the boy and took a hold of the boy’s hand. “This was how it was meant to be.”

“What do you mean?!” MK sputtered out. “You mean that Lady Bone Demon-“

“Well, no! Not her, no! I was supposed to take on anything that you couldn’t handle, I was supposed to be at your side.”

“Holy shit.” Pigsy muttered. “It’s happening. Actual communication.”

Tang hushed him.

Macaque snorted.

Monkey King ignored the three. “But Spider Queen happened. Lady Bone Demon happened. It was a lot more than I thought you could handle, and while I was right, I should have never kept you in the dark about it. I know I’ve been a shitty mentor, but I’m learning as much as you are right now.”

MK nodded in agreement to his words. “So, are you going to teach me more?”

Monkey King smiled. “Of course, bud. Especially more of the fighting stuff. While we can’t really use our powers at the moment… there are other methods we can use.”

“So, like…” MK turned to Macaque, who smirked.

“That’s right, kid. You can never have too many teachers. Right?”

Monkey King started to reply, before Mei cut him off with an inquiry. “Yeah, so uh, who are you? Like a hot version of Monkey King?”

“A hot version of m- excuse me?!” Monkey King squawked in indignation. “I am too hot!”

“I’m not so sure about that Peaches…” Macaque drawled.

Monkey King whirled on the macaque. “You used to date me, so you definitely thought I was hot! So shut up!”

You what?!” MK screeched.

That was the breaking point for the crew. They all broke out in noise, all firing questions at the two.

“Look what you’ve done.” The simian groaned. “I should have thrown you off the ship when I first saw you.”

“Aww, you love me.”

[lyallblacklupin]

Don’t miss the Yule Ball.

Remus sorts out his feelings about Sirius. 

Tags: Post-Incident with Severus Snape, Angst with Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Trust Issues.

Chapter 4

If someone had been there to witness what happened to Remus after Sirius had left the dorm, they would have had given him the longest hug to repress his teeming guilt that had gushed out of him so hard that he had collapsed on the floor, rocking back and forth for tears to come out, but they never came. He never wanted things to be turned this way between him and Sirius, which were completely unexpected. Sure, he did fantasize of being asked out by Sirius, but not in his right mind he had ever had any hopes for it to happen. He really underestimated Sirius. He was strongly reminded that the void in his chest was Sirius’ absence in his life which was expanding day by day, ripping his heart in the midst. He wanted Sirius. So much. He felt selfish—in fact he was selfish, and right now it didn’t seem like much of a sin.

He was again at the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall, sipping coffee heedlessly, mind floating elsewhere in the crack of dawn. There were no classes today due to the Yule Ball in the evening. He had nothing to distract himself with. Surprisingly, he was greeted by a very unusual couple that he had to blink his eyes a little too much to believe he was seeing right.

“Oh, stop blinking! I know it’s hard to believe.” Lily Evans grumbled, with a slight amusement in her voice.

“Oh Evans, it’s not hard for me to believe. I am very much alive right now!” Yes, that was none other than James Potter, grinning his usual stupid, stupid smirk.

“For your information, we are not dating, Potter. We are just friends who happened to be going on a very casual event of our school.” Lily imitated a very elegant voice, smiling successfully that James couldn’t stop looking at her—or couldn’t stop swooning at her.

“Sure.” He shrugged, the smile not leaving his face for a second. They both slipped into their seats beside Remus, but they didn’t sit together. James and Lily were sitting on Remus’ sides. When the silence had prolonged for more than it was necessary, he found both of them staring at him.

“What?” He was utter confused.

“You think we are unable to see that long face of yours?” Lily commented, arching her brows like Mcgonacall. He shook his head slightly. He knew that he was not going to get away from this, “Tell us what happened?”

Remus was unable to gather words. He felt like he had no ounce of energy left in his body.

“I don’t know what to tell…” He trailed off.

“Okay, how about you tell us what are you feeling?” She put her hand on his.

“I don’t know that either.”

“Okay, okay…Umm. How about we ask you questions and you try to answer them?” Remus was not thrilled with her idea, so he stayed silent which she took it as his approval, “Did you have a fight with Sirius?”

“Not exactly a fight…” Remus was replaying the memory in his head for the infinith time, “Merlin, I wish it had been a fight.”

“Was it about…what he did with Snap—“ Lily was cut off by the shake of his head.

“No, it was not about that!” He said irritatingly, “We are way past that, okay?” He wasn’t asking but he was making it clear.

“Are you?” James interjected.

“Look, I have forgiven him long time ago. It’s just getting difficult to be, you know…normal?”

“Okay, let’s talk straight here, mate,” James put his arm around Remus—which was a typical ‘James Potter move’ when he was trying to convince someone, “You guys were dating before…all of that,” He did a vague hand gesture, “And right now, you guys are just these uncomfortable exes who are missing each other so much but have a tendency to ignore that.”

“Of course, I miss Sirius. He was my only best friend, James.” James gasped dramatically, making a show of how mocked he felt by his comment. Remus rolled his eyes at him.

“Yes, but James is trying to say that you guys miss being each other’s boyfriends.” Lily said those words with such gentleness that Remus felt heat creeping up on his neck. He was suddenly reminiscing the best memories of his life when he was dating Sirius.

“You are an ignorant, self-centered and a mean boyfriend, do you know that?” Remus replied blankly, his temper had reached the level of exhaustion because Sirius was right that Remus was never going to win any arguments with him. So he flopped on his bed but Sirius crawled from his behind to take him in his arms.

“But you love me.” He whispered, planting tiny kisses on Remus’ ear and jaw. Remus had turned into a mush, because it felt so good. He decided that he wasn’t unhappy on his position in their relationship. His mind made a mental note to himself that he’d rather let Sirius win all the arguments if it meant that he was never going to leave Remus.

“I do, I do love you.” He whispered back.

“Moony?”

“Remus?”

Remus jerked out of his ruminating to see James and Lily gawking at him.

“Sorry, just zoned out of the conversation.” He cleared his throat and Lily offered him her coffee.

“You’re a mess, Rem. You need to sort this out with yourself.” She was right, Remus knew, but he also wanted someone to tell him what to do.

“What do I do?”

“Go to the dance with him!” James piped up, and Remus flinched, “What?”

“Urgh. That was how it all started…”And then he told them what happened when Sirius asked him to be his date, how it turned out, and how infuriatingly he didn’t know what to do.

“You have a date!?” Lily scowled at him. Not only James was looking disappointed by the news, but Remus also felt sick of himself.

“I am the worst person in the world. I messed up. I messed everything! I knew that this was not what I wanted! I never wanted to date anyone. And yes, I admit, I haven’t moved on. Not even a little bit. I still think about him, and I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he had always been the one to calm me down whenever I’m angry or sad but then Snape happened, and I made a promise with myself that I will never let Sirius come near me. But I was this overconfident shit that I thought I will be able to handle all it. And then I wasn’t…and I can’t…”

His chest was thundering as the sobs began to cloud his throat, waiting for Remus to let go of himself. He didn’t want anyone to touch him otherwise, he’d never stop crying now that his heart was opening and becoming vulnerable.

“Moony…” James’ gentle voice was enough to bring his emotion at the brink of his eyes. He didn’t just underestimate Sirius, but also himself. That was very unlike Remus. He hated being the center of attention, he hated breaking down in public, and he hated people’s soft words—let alone the physical gestures.

“Don’t.” It was all he could manage to say when Lily had touched his arm. He was on his feet as he fled the hall, in desperate need to reach the lavatory.

So it was about what happened with Snape, came a voice in his head when he was inside the vacant bathroom. There was still mistrust, swimming with his judgments. His mind was telling him that he shouldn’t commit the same mistake of getting into relationship with Sirius but his heart was not helping at all. It was so in love. He was trying breathe properly.

Let love be your guide, his heart said.

And then get lost? His mind retorted.

Yes! Remus wanted to slap himself.

He had been pushing feelings all of his life. He had been very difficult with Sirius for straight two days when Sirius had confessed that he was in love with him. The most remarkable thing was that Sirius understood his struggle with feelings and emotions. He had the art to scoop them out of Remus’ system. Moony, this is the only way to calm yourself, he had said to him. And now, as Lily had said, he was a mess. Without him. Without Sirius.

After few hours—what felt like minutes—he washed his miserable face and walked to the courtyard. He didn’t want to go the Gryffindor Tower to face anyone. He was a wreck. He didn’t want to face Sirius either, so he just sat by the outdated fountain where the tree was protecting him from the sun. He decided that he was not going to the Ball. He just wanted to rehearse his future act of turning down Catherina Johnson gently. He relaxed himself there. It had been fifteen minutes, and he had been thinking of his DADA essay for Patronus charms, which was a win-win for him as a distraction.

However, it wasn’t long when he took out his wand and tried to cast a patronus.

“Expecto Patronum.” He whispered, thinking about the time when his friends had first time accompanied him to the moon as Animagus. A silver wisp glowed on the tip of his wand but then died out after a second, which made him eventually want to think about the moments that had made him genuinely happy. He thought about the time when Sirius had told him he was a good kisser, when he had told him that they should start dating, and a lot more but they were not strong enough to cast full patronus, just a silver light flickering. He was confused. He focused and focused, becoming impatient. He was also worrying if Sirius was not associated with his happiest memory then maybe Remus had been in an oblivion—or say, stupid in love. He knew that love was the most powerful element to do wonders, even in the wizarding world. But What if it was never love? What if it was just infatuation? Then why was his heart hammering so violently in his chest? But then he was suddenly reminded of a very bad day in his fifth year when he was walking by the dungeon where the sixth-years were taking their Potions class, and Slughorn had called him to volunteer.

“Mr Lupin here is a fifth year, and he has advanced enough to brew Veritaserum which is supposed to be taught in his next year. Uh—Mr Lupin please, come forth and—Mr Lupin?”

Remus was extremely annoyed by a certain scent saturating the room. He was sniffing, and whipping his head to follow it. He had completely forgotten that he was volunteering with Professor Slughorn because he is so concentrated on the scent which is filling his nostrils, making him quite dizzy.

“What is this smell, Professor?” He asked, still looking here and there. He knew that some of his senior students were making fun of him as the room was filled with faint sounds of sniggers and snorts.

“Mr Lupin, you are in a Potion classroom, there are numerous of potions sitting out…” Remus ignored his rambling because the scent is getting stronger. He couldn’t put a finger on it because it was reminding him of many things. Musk, which was making him lightheaded. Cigarettes. Damp hair after hot shower. The feeling of leather on skin, and also the forbidden forest. The scent had a strange sense of familiarization. It was vague but he was drawn to it. It was like he was sitting in the heart of someone—someone he knew, because he could feel their heart beat in his ears.

Remus’ whole day was a disaster because he couldn’t brew the Veritaserum properly, Slughorn had sent him back to his dorm, he was tackled by Peeves on his way, and he was also annoyed by some portraits which had made fun of his scars. After his prefect rounds, he entered the common room with a foul mood, and spotted Sirius Black sitting alone on the couch. He looked at his pocket watch and found that it was past midnight. Sirius stood up and held out his arms, smiling at him. Remus threw his satchel and books away, and fell into Sirius’ arms. He was embraced so tightly and warmly.

They both stayed quiet, and Remus nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck. That was when his eyes snapped both because he caught a whiff of the same scent that had been annoying him in the Potions.

“That scent.” Remus murmured, pulling away from Sirius.

“What scent?” Sirius asked, perplexed.

“Oh! Not you, now! I have had enough of it! This scent is driving me mad, Sirius!”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Moony, why are you crying?”

“What?”

“You are crying.”

“Oh.”

“Come here.”

He was embraced again, and then it hit him. That scent was Sirius. It was not coming from somewhere, it was just Sirius’ scent. Very natural, and very Sirius. The potion he had smelled in the dungeon was Amortentia. Sirius had always been the one to give Remus the physical interaction he shared with no one in his group. Due to his claustrophobia, he had always found hugging very uncomfortable, but not with Sirius, never with Sirius.

“I’m claustrophobic.”

“I know.” Sirius tightened his hold on Remus, pulling him impossibly closer, and he was not choking for breath. That made him cry, more and more. He was not embarrassed for the streaming tears, so he let them fall because it was just Sirius. His home.

“Expecto Patronum.”

A full grown silver dog shot out of his wand, running in circles around Remus enthusiastically. And suddenly, Remus realized why such an odd memory was his happiest and the most powerful one because it was the day when he was brought in front of the raw truth that he was in love with Sirius Black.

It was afternoon, and everyone was gathering for lunch a little earlier because the Great Hall was going to be sealed for the decorations of the Yule Ball until the evening. Remus looked around him, everyone was beaming and laughing with the exhilaration for tonight. He needed to find Sirius. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to see him, at least. He walking quickly through the crowd, looking for him.

“Hey Remus!” He turned to find Catherina staring at him. Remus groaned internally.

“Hi, Catherina.” He tried to smile.

“Oh, call me Cathy. My friends calls me Cathy.” They fell into brief silence but she break it—to Remus’ horror, “So what’s the color of your robes tonight?” He frowned at her, “Oh, it’s okay if you don’t to tell but please don’t wear anything mustard. I have an extreme aversion to—“

“Catherina, I can’t go with you tonight.” He tried to ignore the hammering of his heart.

“What?” She looked distraught.

“I’m sorry—“

“Is this because of Black?”

“What does Sirius has to do with any of this?”

“Oh you bet your arse, it is! You guys think you are so subtle.” Remus is frozen in his place, “Who do you think you are? You thought I was just a bloody nobody to whom you’ll say yes without having to mean it—“

“Catherine, it’s not like that! I’m not feeling well, I can’t go—“

“Oh, save it, Lupin! You first agreed to be my date and broke Black’s heart, and now you’re going to his date by breaking mine?” She looked hurt, very hurt and Remus wanted to just die because her words were too true to be painful, “Can’t you see what you are doing?”

“I am so sorry, Cathy. Please. And I’m not going with anyone!” But she was shaking his head, “You have to believe me. And you are right, I did break your heart and you have no idea how pathetic I feel! I am a terrible person. I don’t deserve to be your date.”

“You are not,” She spoke after a brief silence, “You are not a terrible person. You are just stupid.”

“Same thing.”

“Look, you didn’t break my heart. You hurt my feelings, and I didn’t expect that from you. But you know what, people surprise you.” There is a very awkward silence between them and Remus couldn’t stop himself from apologizing. She gave him a long strange look, and then walked away.

Remus didn’t stand for any longer, he began walking. The thoughts, the guilt, the pain, the unjust things, the stupid acts, unfathomable love, all of that was dawning upon him at every step he was taking. His pace was becoming frantic as he reached closer to the Gryffindor Tower.

He entered the common room, his heart was racing abnormally. He paid no heed to the fourth-years standing in their robes and gowns. He ascended the staircase to his dormitory. For a second, he thought he was the same fifth-year student fleeing the Potions class because a certain scent had screwed up his day. He barged into the dorm just like he had on that day in the common room.

And once again, he found none other than Sirius Black, sitting alone in the room.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 5 is coming soon!

[all-might-can-smash-me]

Motherly Instincts, Human Emotions, or Just a Quirk?

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x Reader

Summary: A feeling is haunting you and it seems to just get even more complicated as the number one hero Endeavor is now out of his hospitalization and the world is at an unease. Is it just your motherly instincts that you feel towards your beloved class 1-A? Is it just a normal occurrence of emotion within any person? Or is it your quirk now picking up something new that you can’t quite see yet?

What I listened to while writing: Detroit:Become Human soundtrack, especially Kara’s Theme.

We are finally here! The fifth season of our beloved My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia has finally arrived! And with that also comes some writings! I’ve been swamped with my new busy schedule that comes along with being in cosmetology school, don't ever under estimate those students because we sure go through a lot each day! Please enjoy this short, on the whim writing for a humble celebration.

Masterlist / request info in master list

A chill had risen up your arms as your typed away at your computer, the hurried and petrified voice of the news caster raging out even if your tv was brought down to a hushed volume. 

“Number one hero Endeavor is is currently defeating a villain. Much damage has been caused to the area. No fatalities as of right now....” Though whatever they had left to speak out to all of Japan or even the whole world did not matter as your chair had clattered upon the ground as you reached for your house coat. the bright light of the hall blinding your eyes as wisps of hair that had fallen from your hair tie floated amongst the wind you created with your nervous steps down the stairs. Shoto had fallen to the ground and your colleague was already there hovering over the teen, the rest of the class either crowding their fellow classmate or staring in shock to the news blaring from the tv.

That day the world changed and not even the world’s most naïve person could ever deny such a thing.

“Here is your jacket, Shoto...” You spoke out softly as you stood in front of the boy, hands reaching to straighten out the collar, the young man only silently standing before you expressionless as usual. Though you could have sworn you felt a tremor. Whether it was you or him, that could be debatable. “Just remember the time we set, ok? If you feel uncomfortable don’t be afraid to just excuse yourself so Mr.Aizawa and I can bring you straight back to the dorms, they will understand that if you have too.” assuring you hoped your words would sound to the boy, but that forever blank expression only looked back to you. 

“Ok...” he softly spoke out, you nodding your head as you stepped out from his path.

“Ok” felt like the only appropriate response as you watched him step up to the house, disappearing behind the very daunting front door. 

You didn’t want to come off as one of those crazy conspiracist types who always had a foul theory about a hero, villain, and their families, but with your quirk helping you feel the atmosphere or vibe of people, places, or things, you couldn't help but silently be one. Shoto always carried something awful, something that made your heart become heavy despite his neutral expressions. It always perturbed you to no end. It wasn’t like you have never felt this before either. With your previous job being interviewing and helping rehabilitate “troubled” children and mentally stricken heroes and now being the counselor of UA, it was something that always came. What bothered you though was that it was coming from the son of the nation’s number one hero, a family that would seem normal to all of Japan and the entire world because, well, it was a family of a hero. A had on your shoulder made you snap out of your racing thoughts, now looking over your shoulder and to Aizawa.

“Are you ok?” He questioned, almost a bit awkwardly. You didn’t blame him, your reaction to the atmosphere around was probably strange and maybe even frightening. “I know your quirk can...”

“I’m just worried...” You spoke out with a sigh as rested a hand over his before moving away from his touch to lean against the hood of the car, hands now sitting in your lap as you twiddled your thumbs. “And I’ve been picking up something weird, but who knows, maybe its just that this house probably too damn old and spooky” you tried to joke with a meek laugh, though he only stared with a knowingly look, yet did not press any further. You had to be thankful for that, he sure knew when to back off sometimes, maybe not when it came to his own homeroom students, but for you? He did and you didn’t really care to know his reason for why like whether or not he thought you were too weak to handle it or some other seemingly offensive reason. “Shit!” You exclaimed as a fowl hiss came from the side walk in front of you. There a scared cat arched and puffed it’s body out, though Aizawa paid no mind with a lazy look as he calmly approached the cat, slowly reaching out a hand to let the feral beast sniff, quickly gaining his trust. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as the man scooped up the cat in his arms, now leaning against the car next to you where his hands loved up upon the cat’s dirty fur, his black hair falling to hide the sides of his face. Sometimes you would sit there and imagine what he would look like with that mane of his trimmed and tidied during the sleepless nights you shared playing card games, doing paperwork together, or doing a quick patrol around the dorm to check upon the beloved students of class 1-A. 

“Huh, you sure your quirk isn’t taming wild cats?” You teased as you reached a hand to give the old cat a scratch under his chin. The little chuckle that rumbled through rumbled through you before he began to speak.

“I wish, creating a cat sanctuary of street cats seems like the life best suited for me..” He spoke out lowly with the purrs of the cat. You knew he was joking however which brought a small lift to the corners of your lips. 

It didn’t take him much thought to know that something was still bothering you as the cat jumped from him arms to land back to the ground with what seemed to be a small meow of thanks as it ran off into the night only leaving behind the pesky cat hairs on his all black costume, but he didn’t mind at all. 

“Look at you, covered in cat hair...” Your voice came out in a whisper which you weren't aiming to do as you reached a hand to try to dust away the short hairs in vain, though his rough hands wrapped around yours in order to stop you, a knowing look upon his face. That look made you sigh as you retracted your hands from his.

That damn man. He knew when to not press about things like he did to others, but when it got to a certain point in his eyes, he always intervened. You were foolish enough to think you would be able to suppress and hide it enough in order to trick those fatigued eyes of his. Not this time, the feelings that plagued your heart and continued to poke at you were too strong and too bothersome. 

“Shoto always carried things such as sadness, anger, determination, trauma, just a lot more than I could swallow sometimes.” You began to explain, now looking up to the house watching the shadows dance across one of the windows lit up by the soft light within. “And this whole area is filled with so many bad things...but right now it kind of confuses me” You said as your eyebrows scrunched at the new shift. “Change is happening, which is normal to see in a person once they go through the proper treatment or therapy, but judging by how bad it was before, it is going to take a lot...” You said with a sigh, lowering your gaze from the house, trying your best to shut off the swarm of emotions before you and to end your reading, now looking to Aizawa. “It just saddens me, Shoto seems so aloof, but that boy has went through so much, I guess I’m just worried from him, scared for him..” You explained.

“Doesn’t make since why he would come back?” He asked softly, you only staring back up to him to roll that thought within your head before nodding your head. Aizawa only nodded his head back, his arm now reaching to wrap an arm around your dropping shoulders, you now leaning your head against his shoulder. The embrace was comforting and you appreciated his understanding, but you still had such an anxious feeling in your gut. 

“I know this world preaches forgiveness and for us to fix the wrongs we commit in our life, but even for me who helps those people forgive and seek forgiveness, its still hard to do it myself sometimes. It also goes to show that even a family like this can hold all these...foul things” You explained further as you looked p to the moths and bugs that swarmed the streetlight up above and soon past their mindless flight and to the dull stars above. The tears pulled at the brim of your eyes, your chin beginning to strain with the sensation that came with crying. “These kids are like my babies...” you soon shakily spoke out, fighting back the horrendous expression you knew would come too with your tears as you looked to Aizawa “And right now I can’t fight off this feeling in my gut ever since the Endeavor incident..” Your trembled whisper almost seemed fearful. 

A door slamming made Aizawa’s head snap to the source of the sound where the both of you sat in the silence, bodies tense as you waited. Finally with a deep sigh his body relaxed as he looked back to you, a hand reaching to brush away those tears that could move him to tears if he was off guard, though sometimes that wouldn’t even work and that would definitely not go past you. 

Your hands reach to cup the lower, stubbled half of his face upon seeing that familiar wetness gently pool in his eyes, but it was not enough to fall upon his cheeks and betray his wishes of not wanting to cry. You guessed you were not alone with these feelings

“I know...” He spoke out quietly with a sad smile. “We just have to prepare them as best as we can. Shoto, Izuku, Eri, Shinsou, all the others” Aizawa continued on as he was no fully turned to you, hands holding your upper arms, one of them moving away to reach for a piece of hair that was caught onto your sweater to pluck it off and let it float gently down into the darkness of the night. 

“But they are just kids...” 

“I know, but they chose this path, besides, they have already accomplished and achieved so much. Who knows, maybe whatever is coming will be another thing these students will once again defeat and make us adults look stupid again” Aizawa was trying to joke, trying to lift that melancholy looked that wrinkled your face, but it was no use. With a sigh he stood up straight, those warm hands of his sliding away as he opened the passenger door for you, those eyes seeming to look even more exhausted if that were even possible. “Come on, lets get the car started, its almost time to bring Shoto home.”

Motherly instincts, human emotions, a quirks power....was it simply not a good mix or was it simply something big was coming? How those thoughts came in typhoons within your mind as you sat in silence in there car. 

How you will never be able to figure that one out....

[lady-himbo]

In Your Shadow

sort of Javier Peña x reader, platonic!Steve Murphy x reader (she/her pronouns; no Y/N used)

Javi keeps getting the credit for work he didn’t do, and she’s pissed. Chaos ensues.

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: angst and frustration, lots of cursing, potentially horrid Spanish (I’m learning, I promise), smoking

A/N: This is based on the song Shadow by Unlike Pluto. You can find pieces of the lyrics in the dialogue. You can also find the translations of everything said in Spanish at the end! Feel free to correct me on anything; like I said, I’m learning Spanish, and I appreciate any advice. <3

“... and thank you again to Agente Peña for providing this invaluable intel.” As the meeting adjourned and several individuals voiced their praise, she charged out of the briefing room and into the office, seething, death-gripping her files to her chest. Hot on her heels, Steve attempted to pacify her.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to steal your thunder, honey. He’s just-”

“What? He’s just what, Steve? A senior agent? Running the show? A man? Tell me, what exactly justifies him getting credit for the shit I’ve worked months on?!” The files were starting to crumple in her grasp.

“Well, I don-”

“This isn’t even the first time he’s done it! He’s gotten recognition for my informants, my intel, my translations, my briefings, my goddamn livelihood!” Her voice was starting to raise in pitch and volume as tears gathered in her eyes. Steve held his hands up, trying to silently reason with her. “I can’t win, Steven! I work my ass off day and night for this fuckin’ job, only to have the rug pulled out from under me because I’m ‘not working as hard’ as holier-than-thou Javier goddamn Peña and his massive ego! I have to live under it and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, it casts giant shadows!”

Unfortunately, the source of her rage had picked an inopportune time to waltz in. With only a second to register Steve’s panicked look, Javi might as well have wandered into the middle of a firing squad. The execution probably wouldn’t have been half as painful.

“You motherfucker!” she yelled, slamming the now torn and wrinkled papers onto her desk with a clatter. “You lying, power-hungry, manipulative bastard! You fuck every other woman you get the chance to, but you’ve decided to fuck my life instead! I’ve worked for fucking months; hundreds of hours and sleepless nights on this information, and you’ve taken all the credit! Again!”

Javi, oblivious to the full impact of this outburst, opted for the worst possible response. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re working as a team. Plus, you asked me to hand it in to Noonan. If you wanted to take credit for it so badly, you should’ve just talked to her yourself!” Steve visibly cringed and gestured for him to cut it out. Too late.

She stalked forward and, though Javi tried to back up, she had him backed into a corner. “You pompous ass! ¡Más tonto y no naces!” She’d broken out her Spanish. Oh boy. “I can’t even talk to Noonan because she always tells me to run my ideas by your incompetant ass! You cast a shadow over everything I try to do; it’s not like I can get anything worthwhile done when your massive ego’s towering over my ambitions!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating her words. “Nothing I’ve ever done here has ever mattered to the agency, because I live in your shadow and you’ve taken all of it from me! When will you move out of my way and stop treating me like a fucking doormat?!”

Javi was starting to get defensive, which was never a good sign, especially when Spanish started to get sprinkled in. “¡Oh, lo siento mucho!” he shot back sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware that all the work you get authorized by me to do was proprietary!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” she spat. “All you had to do was say the report was from me! It’s not proprietary, Peña, it’s my goddamn right to present the information that I spent my own money, overtime, health, and physical fucking safety to acquire! I’m sorry that I have a genuine interest in making sure this case gets handled right instead of spending my every waking moment getting my dick wet in my informants!”

A small group was starting to gather near the office, waiting to hear if Peña finally got his ass handed to him. This didn’t seem to bother either agent as they glared each other down. With Peña’s pride now on the line, no holds were barred, and he was ready to bust out personal attacks.

“Any competent agent would’ve just handed their shit in themselves, but no, you’ve gotta rely on someone else to do it for you.” He was livid; his pride had been damaged while he was riding the high of gloat and achievement, like getting laid and immediately being punched in the balls. She wasn’t letting this one go, and it was obvious he wasn’t either. “God! You’re like a cloud every time you walk in here, bitching about how little sleep you’re getting or how your work is piling up; a fuckin’ rain on my parade!” He stepped forward, crowding her, his posture more and more assertive with every word. “¡Madura de una vez! You’re an adult, a government agent, taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar! No one’s getting sleep, and it certainly doesn’t help when you’re whining about it! Maybe if you stopped, you’d have time to turn in your own reports and get the credit you don’t deserve!”

Escobar himself could’ve walked through the office and no one would’ve noticed. Javi’s mouth slammed shut the moment the words left, but they seemed to echo in the eerily silent office. Her shoulders sagged, and she stumbled back a few steps, trying to steady herself.

“Fuck, I-” Javi choked on his words. Her eyes were red, her cheeks stained, but her face was frighteningly level.

“Yeah, tienes razón.” Her voice was hollow, tired. “It’s always stormy lately. I guess I’m just under too much pressure; it’s driving me insane. There’s only one way to relieve it.” She slipped off her gun holster and unclipped her badge, pressing them into his chest. “I quit.” Without a second glance, she stormed out of the office.

Two weeks later, her desk was cleared out, her files and informants were on a list to be redistributed to the rest of the unit, and the office was uncomfortably heavy. Javi was smoking way more than usual, everyone avoided him like the plague, Steve was bored, the case was at a standstill, and the quiet was palpable. She was no longer a colorful presence flitting around the tables, leaving a rainbow of Post-it Notes in her wake, charting cell signals, calling out for advice, chatting on the phone in Spanglish, humming quietly or bobbing her head to the radio, popping up to refill her coffee cup and offering to refill everyone else’s every couple hours, then rushing off to the bathroom when she’d had too much. She was a constant presence the unit soon realized they’d taken advantage of.

The phone on Steve’s desk rang mid-morning, and he stifled a yawn as he picked it up. “Murphy,” he grunted.

“Hey, Stevie,” came a familiar voice. “¿Qué pasa?”

He brightened. “Hey, hon.” He felt some of the tension leave him, but it was still there. “We’re fuckin’ stuck. Nothing’s happening, everyone’s lifeless, and Javi’s still moping. Eso es lo que pasa.” He could hear her breathy laugh; she was always proud when he practiced his conversational Spanish with her. She’d told him she felt it was an honor he was comfortable enough to try it out around her. “What’s up with you?”

“Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. I’m sorry you have to deal with-” she stopped and huffed, then her words became muffled. “Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono!” She yelped. “¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz!” There was a brief commotion, then a thump, and suddenly, her voice became clear again. “Sorry, I’m waiting on Noonan. I’m supposed to meet with her today to finalize my paperwork.”

Steve sighed. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Another voice called her name in the background, then spoke quietly for a moment. “What?! ¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’?” The voice spoke again, then there was a pause. “Okay… Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo.” Then, back to Steve: “Noonan didn’t show. Some emergency meeting. Just great; I guess I’m rescheduling.”

“Maybe it’s fate!” Steve teased, only half joking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Javi trudge across the office to the coffee pot, give it a long, forlorn look, then trudge back towards his desk. His eyes were heavy, his shirt rumpled, even his mustache looked sad. As he plopped down amongst towers of papers, Steve cleared his throat and made a show of nestling the handset under his chin. “Well, whatever the case, that gives me time to convince you to stay with us. Your desk looks stupid empty.” Though he was deliberately looking away, he could see Javi’s head and shoulders snap up like he’d heard a gunshot. On the other end of the line, she laughed.

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Murphy. I’d welcome the company, though.”

“Of course!” he replied, making sure his smile was as cheesy as possible. “I’ll meet you outside in a little bit?” She agreed.

Steve busied himself with pretending to look busy for the next half hour, then announced he was going to talk to Carrillo. As soon as he turned the corner and was sure he was out of sight, he watched Javi scramble out of his seat and out the door.

Outside the building, she was sitting on a bench, her back turned. Lazy wisps of cigarette smoke danced in the wind in front of her figure, and Javi suddenly felt very insecure. He called her name, uncomfortable with the way his voice wavered. She jumped, then, after a beat, slowly turned towards him. “Come mierda, Javier.” He didn’t let her words deter him, approaching the side of the bench. She glared up at him. “No me joda. I’ll finish up in a second and leave.” He wrung his hands, feeling small under her stare.

“I’m going to sit with you,” he declared.

“Please go,” she said, softer this time. “I just wanna feel the wind one last time before I leave. Just wanna look at this shitty masterpiece of a city; really take it in.”

He ignored her plea and sat, far enough away that he didn’t feel like he was ganging up on her. They just sat, and she took long, deep drags of her cigarette. After she eventually ground the butt into the pavement, he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He left the declaration hanging in the wind for a moment, before plunging on. “I’m sorry for what I said, and what I’ve been doing to you. I’ve been a selfish asshole, and you were right to call me out on that. I’m not going to convince you to stay, because you don’t deserve to be dealing with my bullshit all the time. You’re talented and selfless and I never appreciated everything you sacrificed for us until it was gone. I just- fuck, I feel like such a piece of shit.”

“You are.” He blinked owlishly. “You’re a self-centered, impulsive manwhore with a weird mixture of self-hatred and a superiority complex. You’ve been a horrible coworker and I almost feel ashamed that I tried so hard to be your friend.” He ducked his head, trying to hide his mortification. “Almost.”

He peered back up at her, cocking his head in confusion. “That said, you’re a great agent, kind and sympathetic when you wanna be, passionate about the work we do, and, when you keep a level head, you’re fun to work with. I don’t know if I can forgive you right now for all the shit you did, but your apology goes a long way. I appreciate that.”

She took a deep breath, then stilled, staring out into the movement and noise of Medellín. He watched her for a few minutes, though it felt like hours. He watched the clenching and unclenching of her jaw, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelashes; all the details he’d been too busy to notice. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She looked over, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I’m just thinkin’ about life. What I want to do.”

“I know it doesn’t amount to much, but I’d like you to stay.”

“I can’t- I mean, I can, it’s just that- fuck, I don’t even know,” she mumbled, furrowing her brows to try to stop a tear from slipping down her cheek. “It’s just that, by all official records, I’m pretty much worthless here, y’know? All my abilities go unnoticed and it’s like I’m not even there. I know you don’t mean to stand above me, but you are, and the shadow I live under is killing me. It’s taken my job, my self worth, my… being. I can’t live like that anymore, constantly working at the precipice of death, of destruction, of failure, and the one thing I can do to help isn’t even appreciated as my own. It’s just… cold.”

Javi nodded. “After you left, I went up to Noonan and explained what’d happened; that I didn’t deserve any of the credit I’d been given.”

“Well, that’s not true! The things that you did you deserve credit for. You’re incredibly talented, Javi, just not with my intel.”

“But… you do deserve the credit I get. You deserve so much more than you‘ve ever gotten. What I said was so selfish.”

She grabbed his hand. “Javi, selfishness aside, I know you’re in a dark place. We all are. After all, we’re government agents ‘taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar’ and we don’t get any sleep.” She smiled at her usage of the words he’d berated her with weeks earlier. “I should’ve taken more initiative to turn in my own work; it was silly of me to put that on you. I know you’ve got your own mess going on. Plus, I said a lot of awful things right back. Most of them I meant, some of them I didn’t, but I could’ve handled it all a lot better. I’m sorry we didn’t work this out earlier.”

Javi squeezed her hand, feeling a little warm tingle in his stomach. “Me too.” He sighed, raking his other hand through his hair. “I- er, we really do need your help. You’re priceless.” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back and forth as if weighing her options.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Noonan.” Javi’s face lit up. “But on two conditions.” He nodded. “One: I get recognition for my past and future work, and two: you promise to work with me and call on me if we have any issues. We can’t have these communication errors any longer if we’re gonna catch these bastards.” She paused, then smiled lightly. “Also, you owe me a lot of coffee.”

Just as Javi agreed, Steve came out of the building. He stopped a few paces from them, looking back and forth from Javi’s pink cheeks and goofy grin, her teary eyes, and their interlaced hands. “I’m sorry, what did I miss?”

She laughed as they pulled their hands apart and she wiped the tears away. “I’m keeping my job.”

“That’s amazing! …Peña, what did you dose her with?” Javi let out the fakest laugh he could, but smiled along with it. She sighed softly, the breeze dancing across her skin.

“All I want is to cast my own shadow.”

Translations:

¡Más tonto y no naces! - If you were any dumber, you wouldn’t have been born!)

¡Oh, lo siento mucho! -> Oh, I’m so sorry!

¡Madura de una vez! -> Grow up!

tienes razón -> you’re right

¿Qué pasa? -> What’s up?

Eso es lo que pasa. -> That’s what’s up.

Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. -> Fine, I guess; I’ve been better.

Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono! -> I have an appointment with the ambassador, asshole. I’m on the phone!

¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz! -> Touch me again and I’ll break your nose!

¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’? -> What do you mean ‘she’s not here’?

Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo. -> Yeah, all good… all right. Okay.

Come mierda -> Eat shit

No me joda. -> Don’t fuck with me.

[kyber-crystal]

Maybe It’s Meant To Be

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.7k

Summary: Sometimes, love finds people in unexpected ways. In this case, fate has extra special plans for America’s golden boy and one of SHIELD’s best agents in history. And you know there’s no running away from fate once she’s set out your futures for you. 

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood, angst, and once again, soft steve :)

A/N: I haven’t attempted a soulmate AU in over a year. this is one of my fav works but it’s really poorly written rip. The age gap between you and Steve is ~3 years. 2017 AU where they made up after the Accords :) Steve’s back with his WS look bc that suit was hot af

Tags: @pies-writes-and-more​ this is for you! THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS BEING SO ACTIVE ON MY BLOG AND FOR YOUR SWEET AND SUPER ENCOURAGING WORDS. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. AND @marvelsswansong BECAUSE YOU'RE MY IDOL AND I LOOK UP TO YOU YOU'RE AMAZING

Soulmates.

You'd heard plenty about them growing up. Seeing your parents' perfect relationship blossom over the years piqued your interest, and for the longest time, your only wish was to find someone who could love you with their whole heart and soul and mind, like the way your Mom and Dad loved each other.

Unfortunately, as all stories must come to an end, love stories had to find their ending. And not all of them ended on a high note.

Their jobs should've kept them apart from the beginning. Your mother was head surgeon at one of the best hospitals in Brooklyn, and your father was head of SHIELD's navy division. Constantly out and about, they were rarely granted any time to rest. Yet they still found a way to make things work; and it all started because of a run-in at a café around the corner.

Then when you were fifteen, you got word that your father had been deployed overseas again, but this time, he wasn't coming back.

You had to stand there and watch your mother slowly fall apart, breaking down a little more each day until she fell gravely ill. A mere week after her diagnosis of cardiomyopathy, she passed away in her sleep.

A person's soulmark didn't appear at a specific time. It could show up at any point in their lives, when the Gods believed the time was right for them. When those Gods felt the time was right for you to find out who it was, you'd feel a slight tingle where the mark was etched into your skin.

Some people didn't receive the soulmark at all. Along with this came a sense of freedom to fall in love with whoever they pleased, but often times it would end in a loveless relationship. But they were additionally granted the ability of being able to carry on by themselves.

If your soulmate got injured in any way, you would feel the same pain that they endured. And if they died, you would carry a weight around with you for the rest of your life that slowly progressed into a disease. So ultimately, those left in the world without their soulmate would also die in the end, further proving the claim of humans being unable to live without love.

One by one, you watched your friends find their match. They would excited come up to you, goofy grins on their faces as they showed you their marks. You were happy for them in the beginning, of course. But as years went by, and you passed adulthood with still no sign of your designated soulmark, you slowly began losing hope. There was no point in looking forward to the future when you watched one fall apart before your very eyes.

Maybe it was because of your job. None of the Avengers had received their soulmarks either, asides from Tony and Pepper. But they were an exception. Everyone could see it coming from the day they first met, judging by the way they lovingly gazed at each other from across the room. It was a match made in heaven.

You believed that maybe, just maybe, you were destined to be alone. So when you woke up one morning with the burn mark on your wrist, you were taken completely by surprise.

"Hey, Tony? Bruce?" you asked, walking into the lab with a frown. "I need to ask you guys a quick question."

"Ask away, Killer," Tony nodded, using the nickname he'd given you years ago when you first joined the initiative. "What's on your mind?"

"So, um..." you fiddled with the sleeve of your sweatshirt for a moment, before pulling it up to reveal the mark, "this happened."

"That's a soulmark," he stated.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," you rolled your eyes. "But why would it appear now? I don't see any sign of me meeting them anytime soon."

"When did it appear?"

"I don't know. I woke up this morning and saw it."

"Let me take a look at that," Bruce carefully took ahold of your wrist, squinting as he adjusted his glasses to peer at the mark, "huh. So it appeared last night...have you felt any side-effects?"

"Not that I know of yet, no..."

"If you start feeling any severe symptoms, I can prescribe you some medication to deal with the pain, though I doubt that's going to happen. In the meantime, we need to figure out who this could be."

"Imagine if it was someone who already died, and I'm slowly dying right now," you joked.

"No, if that were to be true, you'd be lying in a hospital bed right now."

"Does the symbol have any specific meaning?"

"That I'm not so sure about," Tony shrugged.

Bruce was silent as he began typing away for a bit, before turning the screen over to you.

"I've checked out over a dozen different sites about this, and..."

"And what?"

"Well...once both people discover their mark, they have a week to find each other before both of them disappear off the face of the earth, forever."

"Sounds like a damn time bomb to me," you muttered. "What the hell? I thought that the point of this whole thing was the gods trying to push us with someone else! Not the other way around!"

"I don't know, Y/N," Bruce sighed. "Feel free to do your own research, but everything I've read up on so far says the same thing."

"So basically, what you're telling me is I'm gonna die if I don't find out who the hell has this same mark as I do," you repeated.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, I'll have to worry about that later. Got a briefing with Cap, Bucky, and Wilson in five. Fury's gonna kill me if I'm late again," you breathed out as you tugged your hoodie's sleeve back down. "See ya."

"Agent Y/N," Nick Fury gave you a curt nod as you burst into the meeting room, breathless. "I hope you slept well last night."

"Of course."

"I need you four to track down a weapons dealer in Skagway," he explained as he handed Steve a black manila file folder, "shut down the base, download the intel onto the flashdrive. You’ll be staying at a safe house in Juneau afterwards for about a week to keep things on the down-low in case something goes wrong. Simple in-and-out job."

"When are we leaving?" Sam questioned.

"You're taking off in half an hour. Suit up."

You sighed. Finding your soulmate would just have to wait, then.

...

"Y/N, look out!"

You quickly whipped around and narrowly missed a bullet whizzing past you, as Steve tugged you around the corner, an arm wrapped firmly around your torso as he hid you both behind his shield.

You gasped as you felt a sharp pain in your chest, and Steve immediately pulled away from you in alarm, gripping your shoulders worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you panted, trying to steady your rapid breathing, “I’m fine. But we’re gonna have to split up from here if we wanna get the job done faster.”

“Y/N, I can’t-”

“Steve,” you interrupted, the firm tone of voice making him immediately shut up. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure! Go find Sam and Bucky, and I’ll meet you guys by the rendezvous point as soon as I’m done. Okay?”

“Alright.” He looked around for a moment before stepping away, as if he was hesitant to leave you on your own.

Ignoring the slight ache in your chest, you parted ways, darting down the hall with your guns up and ears alert. 

From there, it was easy to fall into your usual routine. Keep all eyes and ears open; don’t hesitate, shoot on sight unless ordered otherwise. If necessary, engage powers but if not, use your fists or bullets. The mantra repeated itself over and over in your head as you followed through with your job.

You hid behind a tower of wooden crates, back pressed up against the steel walls. “Sam. Status update?”

“Controls room with Barnes, disabling all security systems. Steve’s retrieving intel from the north wing. You?”

“Outside on standby,” you murmured, keeping a finger pressed to your ear. Three technicians were loading equipment onto crates as the other six stood guard several yards away. “I make nine hostiles on the load dock straight ahead at twelve o’clock. Three dozen in total scattered around the area. Most likely preparing for an overseas arms trade. We’ll have to stop them.”

“And...done. We’re heading your way,” Bucky reported. “Be there in three.”

“Roger that.”

Exactly three minutes and two seconds later Bucky showed up, with Steve and Sam in tow. You came out from your hiding spot and began making your way towards the loading dock where the agents were stationed. They were quick to stop what they were doing and noticed the four of you approaching, whipping their snipers out and proceeding to open fire.

...

Your breath came out in white wisps of fog as you got caught in between a fistfight with one of the three dozen men on the docks, the freezing cold slowing all your movements and making them feel more sluggish than usual. If it weren’t for the thick material of your suit and your enhancements, you would’ve succumbed to the harsh weather hours ago.

The man captured you into a tight headlock with his thick arm but despite your frostbite you were too fast; you quickly whipped around and grabbed his wrist, twisting it to the side. His eyes widened slightly as he cried out in pain, the sickening crunch of bone echoing through the frigid Alaskan air as you swiftly dodged each one of moves as he attempted to come at you, countering with a sharp right hook to his jaw. 

His body slumped to the ground with a thump. 

“Why the hell do you even carry around a sniper if your fists do all the work for you?” Sam yelled over the cacophony as he released Redwing, swooping down from the rooftops. “Seriously, you don’t need guns! You’re strong enough as it is!”

“I prefer versatility in fights, Wilson!” you yelled back, grunting as you dodged a blow to the stomach, sweeping out your attacker’s feet from underneath him as his head smacked against the wall, before sliding down to the ground with a dull thud. 

“Y/N, look out-” Bucky called out, but it was too late. You didn’t get to hear his warning in time before you felt something cold and hard hit your lower abdomen. A yell of pain ripped through your throat as you felt a sticky warmth spread across your skin, your knees hitting the ground as you clutched the wound.

At that exact moment, Steve felt a sharp pain flare up his side as well. “Shit,” he cursed to himself, “Buck, cover me so I can get to her.”

You were barely clinging on to life by the time he reached you. Your breathing was heavy and labored, your eyes beginning to roll back as you struggled to stay awake. Everything hurt. Your arms and legs felt like they were weighed down with bricks. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t open your mouth to scream, either - you had no energy left to do so.

“Come on, Y/N, stay with me, please stay with me,” he muttered as he began carefully applying pressure to your wound. You let out a hiss of pain at the same time he did. “Just hang in there for me, please. Sam’s getting the Quinjet ready. We’re gonna get out of here in just a few minutes, okay? Please don’t die on me.”

“Look, if I don’t make it-”

“Don’t say that,” he spoke in between clenched teeth while fighting back tears of his own, “you’re not going to die. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not on my watch.”

“Steve…” you croaked out, the stinging from the wound almost becoming impossible to bear. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the second, your body throbbing painfully now that all the adrenaline had worn off. It was a struggle just to take in a single breath and to stay awake. "I'm so tired, I can't do this anymore..."

He disappeared from your line of sight as your began seeing spots at the edges of your vision momentarily, before reappearing and pulling you into his lap, trying to put pressure on the area of injury again in an attempt to stem the bleeding. But it didn’t seem to work. There was so much blood. So much of it, coming out so fast. There was no way you’d last out here for longer than ten minutes before bleeding to death.

"Stay with me..." he murmured as he looked up around him. "Hang in there for a few more minutes, please…Damn it, Sam, how much longer is this gonna take? Y/N’s down. We gotta get her to the safe house as soon as we can. She’s bleeding out.”

"Three minutes, tops. I’m circling the perimeter as an extra precaution," Sam replied. "You guys hang tight for a sec."

"We don't have time!" he raised his voice. "Just hurry the hell over here."

"I'm so sorry," you choked out before going into a coughing fit, blood dripping down your lips and chin much to Steve’s alarm. "I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for being reckless and not keeping a look ou—"

"Shhh, it's okay," he soothed, "There’s nothing to be sorry about. Just save your energy for later, okay? You're gonna be just fine."

"Hold my hand," you begged hoarsely.

"I already am," the super-soldier answered, but his look shifted to that of an alarmed one when he realized you couldn't feel it. "Y/N—"

"I'm cold," you said weakly, already feeling your limbs grow heavy and numb and your vision growing blurrier with each passing second. "I'm so tired, Cap, I just wanna sleep—"

"No no no, please don't leave me," he pleaded as he felt his head begin to spin as well. Where had the sudden wave of dizziness come from? "Hang in there for a little longer, please, I l—"

You didn’t get to hear the rest of his sentence before your eyes fluttered shut and everything went dark.

...

When you came to, your throat felt dry and raw, the metallic taste of dried blood around your lips and chin overwhelming your senses as you adjusted your eyes to the harsh bright lights streaming into the room. It looked like you were in some sort of antique coastal house, strangely void of belongings with the only decoration being a plain floral calendar hung on the wall opposite you, above the fireplace.

You were still in your suit, but your wound had been treated and wrapped up in a thick set of bandages. The couch you were on was old but extremely comfortable, so you found yourself not wanting to sit up at the same time you wanted to get up and look around.

The blinds were drawn shut, but the sunlight still managed to shine through. It was light outside, but you  weren’t sure what time it really was. The walls were a dull grey, and if you listened hard enough you could hear the faint ticking of a nearby clock and probably Bucky or Sam talking on the phone upstairs with someone in hushed whispers.

You finally pulled yourself up into a sitting position, glancing around at your surroundings. Someone quietly entered the living room and you looked up to see Steve. His shoulders sagged in relief upon seeing that you were awake.

“Hey,” his voice came out so softly it took both of you by surprise. You moved over slightly to make room for him to sit. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” you groaned lightly, feeling a dull ache in your stomach where you’d been hit. “But other than that, I’m fine. What about you? Did you get hurt anywhere?”

“Body aches that come and go, but I’m fine. It isn’t your place to be worrying about me right now though, Y/N. You got shot.”

The curtains fluttered and a cool breeze rushed in, making you shiver. Steve took notice and stood up to go light up the fireplace, then sat back down and wrapped the fleece blanket around your body. You let out a small sigh of contentment. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You knocked out for over twenty-six hours .”

“I’m fine, Steve, just tired...hey, how’s Bucky and Sam?”

“Sam’s upstairs radioing Fury on the mission status. Bucky’s taking a nap in the guest room.”

“Oh. Okay. So, I-” you were interrupted by a sharp stabbing sensation in your wrist. “Ow. Fuck.”

“Language,” he joked lightly, but when he saw the obvious pained expression on your face, his face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just...I get those random pains from time to time. I don’t know why, but...they’ve gotten worse since we took off for Skagway and then came here...”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “I should’ve kept a closer watch over you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine...I should’ve watched my own back better.”

You both fell into an awkward silence for several minutes before he spoke up again, the realization finally dawning on him. 

"Y/N."

"What?"

"Your wrist."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked down and saw the star glowing brightly, sending a white-hot pain down your arm. "What about it?"

Steve pulled at his shirt's sleeve for a few seconds before lifting it up to reveal the same exact symbol.

"We're soulmates," you breathed out, the realization hitting you like a flash flood.

"Yeah, I guess we are, huh," he smiled softly.

“W-when did yours appear?”

“Monday afternoon.”

“Mine appeared in the morning...I showed it to Tony and Bruce and they said I had a week to find who it was or both me and my soulmate would die. So I guess we got lucky, huh? Only four more days, then...”

“Yeah, we did,” he exhaled. “I’m glad you’re the one. I can’t imagine living out the rest of my life with anyone else.”

“But Peggy...”

“She found her soulmate decades ago,” he explained, “which explained why our relationship was so short-lived. I didn’t expect to find mine...especially not after coming out of the ice. Maybe I had this coming from the get-go, I’d wonder...”

“Then how come they’d appear now?” Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “I don’t get it. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Because it was only this year that I accepted it.”

“Accepted what?”

“That I’d fallen in love with you, and I kept that inside for far too long.”

“You...what?” You were officially rendered speechless. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, face breaking into a gorgeous, million-dollar grin before turning serious again, lowering his voice. “Y/N, I’m in love with you. You are my infinity and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re my present and my future, and I hate that I couldn’t see that sooner. I should’ve known from the start that Peggy and I wouldn’t work out, but I never understood why...until I met you. I didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates because I felt I was undeserving of that love, but then you came along...and I started hoping and praying I’d find someone who’d love me as much as I love you. So now that I know for sure it’s you, that it always has been and always will be...I couldn’t be more happier that you’re my soulmate.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until he reached forward to brush your hair away from your face and wipe the stray tears that fell, before wrapping an arm around you and gently pulling you towards him.

“God, I made you cry, I’m so sorry,” he choked on a sob of his own. “I’m the worst.”

“I’m not mad at you, Steve,” you sniffed as you wiped your nose with your sleeve, and looked up and cracked a small grin. “You’re just so cheesy.”

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t catch what he said. 

“You can kiss me any day, Captain,” you smiled.

“I love you more than you know.”

“I know. I love you too.”

He then brought a hand up to cup your face, allowing his thumb to lightly skim against your cheek, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

When his lips met yours, it was like you were turning back the clock. Everything in the world stopped and held its breath,  and all the hurt, all the sadness and heartache and pain bottled up inside your body, washed away.

...

BONUS

“HOLY SHIT, Y’ALL ARE SOULMATES?”

The sound of Sam’s screeching made you finally break apart for air. You could’ve been like that for two minutes, two hours, or two weeks, you weren’t sure.

You blushed and quickly averted your gaze. 

Steve’s face was as red as a tomato. “Yeah. We are.”

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN BETWEEN THEM SOON! PAY UP, BARNES! YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS.”

“Come on, man,” Bucky groaned, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “We’re gonna head back home soon, anyways! And you’re not even poor.”

“A bet’s a bet, Barnes.”

“Of course you two bet on it,” you groaned. “Classic Sambucky activity.”

...

NINE MONTHS LATER

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Captain Rogers,” Fury announced, a rare smile gracing his normally stoic features. 

Steve did his best not to break down sobbing as he slid the ring onto your finger. With the backdrop of the waves gently crashing against the shore and the sun slowly sinking lower and lower into the horizon, he leaned down and cupped your face in his hands, passionately pressing his lips to yours. Your soulmarks glowed brightly in tandem, lighting up in a brilliant gold hue. 

Needless to say, there wasn’t a single dry eye in the house. 

[anthropwashere]

Phic Phight: it’s all downhill from here (honey don’t be scared)

Prompt from @aggressivelyclueless: Halfa Valerie AU: Valerie becomes half-ghost. Apart from that being a total nightmare, this also leads her to discover Danny's secret as well. How is she going to handle it?

@currentlylurking @phicphight

Word count: 7,825

=

Mr. Heppenheimer, the latest in a long line of chemistry teachers that have come through Casper High since actual, real life ghosts have begun treating Amity Park like their own personal Las Vegas retreat away from the rigors of whatever normal life is like for ghosts in the Ghost Zone, gives Danny a lingering stink eye. Clearly the last teacher, Mrs. Jamshidi (who barely lasted a month, and submitted her two-week notice while recovering in the hospital after an admittedly memorable encounter with Ember), had left notes behind for her successor. Danny doubted a single word of it was in his favor.

"This practical's worth a quarter of your grade this semester," Mr. Heppenheimer says in his usual droll way. "You're not going to make me regret handing you glassware, are you, Mister Fenton?"

Danny, still a bit sore and off-kilter after another Jack Fenton-approved growth spurt, grins down at him. "No, sir."

Mr. Heppenheimer hums doubtfully. Clearly Mrs. Jamshidi had left extensive notes. "Don't make me regret this."

"Short of a ghost attack, I doubt you will," Danny answers truthfully. He really has gotten a much better control on his powers since the last time any science teacher let him near anything fragile, well over a year ago now. Mrs. Gorman hated him from the start for reasons he never figured out, anyway. He's looking forward to a fresh start.

Of course, worryingly enough Danny’s been sensing a pretty powerful ghost lurking around Casper High for over a week now. Along with the usual big green beasties that like to come sniffing around crowds of humans, which he’s had to dip out to handle three times now. No one’s noticed his on-going ghost sense, though it helps that he’s long-since gotten into the habit of keeping one hand cupped lazily over his mouth—just in case. That’ll be harder to pass off here in a practical lab, but there ought to be a lot of things bubbling and steaming soon. He just has to be careful until he’s got some cover.

Mr. Heppenheimer hums again, more dismissive than doubtful, and lets him approach the counter. His partner in this practical is Star, which is—randomized, definitely. Whatever, also definitely. He and Star have as much in common as him and an actual star, which is to say—nothing. He doesn't even generate heat anymore, not really. He's got a modified Maddie Fenton-approved belt buckle that lets him fake it, but it's not remotely the same thing, and not a

ll that convincing at close quarters anyway. Star, at least, knows him well enough that she's been bringing a mint green cardigan to class ever since they were assigned project partners.

Danny, well-aware he’s only good in the eyes of his peers for a laugh and anti-ghost tech, smiles thinly at Star and gestures at her to take the lead. She sniffs pointedly and does just so, which is fine with him. She's well on her way to valedictorian, whereas he's just trying to graduate. If deferring to whatever she wants gets him a passing grade, sure! He'll do whatever she says and accept whatever belittling comment she tacks on along with it. No skin off his back, right?

About twenty minutes into class there's a magnificent crash of glass that puts Danny 110% on edge; it's only Sam appearing at his left with a reassuring hand on his arm that keeps him from blasting a hole through the wall out of pure reflex. Which, maybe, possibly, likely says something about his state of mind after three straight years of fighting the kind of monsters that don't have any place outside of his very worst nightmares, but—whatever. Point is, thanks to Sam, he doesn't trash the lab or draw any unwanted attention to himself, both of which are good things! Another point in his favor: it’s finally somebody else’s turn to destroy a whole tray of beakers.

"Miss—Gray!" Mr. Heppenheimer shouts after a brief glance at the clipboard Danny hasn't seen him put down in the two weeks since he took the job. "What's the meaning of this?!"

"S-sorry!" Valerie stammers, her eyes firmly on the mess at her feet. Her project partner, Wes, is scowling at Danny. Likely because he believes the mess is entirely his fault. Wes can believe whatever he likes; just because he's the only one not fully in on The Big Secret who figured out The Big Secret out doesn't make him automatically right 100% of the time. Case in point: now. Danny's only touched his notebook, where he's got three pages of dutifully written notes on what Star's tasked him to write as she did all the metaphorical heavy lifting. He could swear on a stack of Bibles that this latest chemistry accident doesn't have a thing to do with him. It’s kind of refreshing, honestly.

Mr. Heppenheimer hums again. It seems to be his default over all the loud swearing he'd obviously prefer to be doing. "Clean it up. And do be careful, Miss Gray. I'd prefer to avoid sending anyone to the nurse's office today if I can help it."

"I—yeah. Yes, sorry." Valerie dashes off to the closet where all the safety-slash-cleaning gear is stashed to fetch cat litter, broom, and dustpan. Star scoffs on Danny's right, while Sam, hand still firmly squeezing Danny's bicep, has a worryingly thoughtful scowl on.

"Valerie has been such a mess since her dad lost his job," Star remarks in the usual scathingly cruel A-lister tone.

"He got his job back." Danny points out as he tries to shrug Sam off without making a big deal of it.

"So?" Star's tone has shifted from scathing to incredulous, which means she somehow didn't know something Danny's known since the tail end of their freshman year. It's admittedly bizarre to find himself able to lord some classmate gossip over an A-lister, but—with a glance at Sam to confirm it is, in fact, cool to lord this gossip over an A-lister—he gives Star a slow, sly grin as he gestures her closer. She leans in without an ounce of self-restraint or disgust, which means Danny's moved higher up the food chain since the last time he bothered to pay any attention.

"Valerie's dad used to be some bigwig in Axion Labs," he says, one eye on Sam and the other on Tucker, both of whom in turn are watching the teacher and the rest of the class. Just in case. "After Vlad—uh. Vladco, I mean—took over the company, Mister Gray got his position back despite Phantom screwing him over, and it's been smooth sailing for him ever since."

The sound of Valerie sweeping up broken glass gets discordantly loud, somehow. Danny doesn't have to look at her to know she's glaring daggers at him. He sets his shoulders and sticks the angle of his nose twenty degrees snootier, mostly to spite whatever murderous and/or weepy glower Valerie might be trying to laser into his soul. Which, whatever. He knows the shape of his own soul by now. He knows it's Phantom, plus or minus some degree of fiery white hair and green-tinged skin.

A bit of the old guilt niggles in the back of his head though. Accident or not, it was Phantom who cost Mr. Gray his job in the first place and Vlad who gave it back. And Vlad only did it at all once he realized his favorite little ghost fighting minion would be a better thorn in Phantom’s side if she didn’t have to work a part-time job at the Nasty Burger. Which—well. Danny’s glad she doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, for all that it does make her a better thorn in his side.

But—guilt. Dumb guilt, but on his plate all the same. He manages to edge the conversation to some other Gossip with a capital G that even Star's not aware of. Oh the things a guy can hear when he can literally turn invisible. It's kind of fun, honestly, to fill her in. The rest of the hour is spent hissing old-as-shit hearsay that still manages to make Star's eyes light up like she's watching Paulina’s favorite cabin burn down again. They do, somehow, manage to get their project pushed along to step three, which will pick up with the rest of all the normal and unobtrusive partnered projects tomorrow. He's not sure which of them is to thank for that, but he is more than a little pleased with how neatly he wrote their notes. It's the most like a regular student he's felt in months. It's honestly pretty great!

"We have a problem," Tucker hisses no less than five seconds and no more than ten after the bell rings. It's that perfect middle ground time of everyone shoving all their shit into their bags so they can bolt out the classroom door as fast as normal-humanly possible, so it's also that perfect middle ground time of nobody paying the three of them the least bit of attention.

"You noticed too?" Sam asks with her usual omniscient scowl. Danny truly and whole-heartedly wishes she'd stop with that, but he's yet to find an opportunity where he can say that to her face without coming across as a total shitheel, including now, so he grits his teeth and raises a pointedly baffled eyebrow at the both of them.

"Noticed what?" He asks with a patience he hasn't actually felt since junior high.

"Valerie's—" Tucker does a casual look around to see if anyone's close enough to eavesdrop, intentionally or no, which means this is a Phantom Thing. And if this is something Phantom and Valerie related? Yeah, no, he's in too good a mood for whatever latest gadget or trick Vlad might be cooking up via Valerie.

He holds up a hand with a sigh he automatically pretends is a yawn to cover up the blue wisp that escapes with it. "Can this wait? Better yet, can we just—not? At least for today? I'm really not up for counter-scheming."

"No need for that," Tucker assures way too quickly. The nervous laugh he follows it up with really doesn't help.

"Right," Danny says wryly, but motions to let them talk. Sam and Tucker share one of those weird non-verbal psychic looks where they have a whole conversation in the span of two seconds that goes right over Danny's head. He wishes they’d stop doing that, but if he called them out on it they’d deny it loudly, and it’d be a whole thing, and—ugh.

"Valerie's acting weird," Tucker says once they've finished. "As in, 'we definitely need to intervene' weird."

"Possessed?"

"No. But this might be worse."

"But this isn't the first time she made a mess in class,” Sam says.

Danny slips his one (1) notebook and one (1) pencil into his bag. He's learned the hard way to pack light and get real good at shorthand, as well as keep all his textbooks down in the Fenton dungeon where they're least likely to get torched in a ghost fight. Again. "Isn't it?"

"Nope," Tucker says as they make their way to the door. Danny's sure to give Mr. Heppenheimer some ever-so-slightly iridescent stink eye of his own to make him flinch, and then doubt himself for flinching. One good turn, and all that. "Seventh actually. Third a teacher noticed, but she's been weirding out a lot of the other students."

Danny grunts, more interested in shouldering other people out of the way to make it easier for Sam and Tucker to squeeze out into the hall. Hey, may as well get some mileage out of being one of the tallest guys in school, right? 

Sam touches his elbow to make sure she's got his attention while they make their way to their next classes. She's got sign language, Tucker's got photography, and Danny's got a free hour to nap in the auditorium ceiling. "She's constantly dropping things, she's always shivering, every lie I've heard her tell a faculty member has been total nonsense, she hasn't gone after a single ghost in almost two weeks—"

"Well, that would explain why there's been an uptick in my fifth period snake-wrangling," Danny remarks dryly, then grins nastily at some girl giving him a serious case of side-eye. She squeaks—actually squeaks!—and ducks behind some broad-shouldered guy in an eye-wateringly neon football jersey.

Tucker wacks his other elbow, scowling up at him. "Dude, this is serious."

"I haven't heard a reason to care yet."

He doesn't have to look to see they're doing another round of psychic Concerned About Our Bestie back-and-forth. Sam's the one who trips him—damn her preference for steel-toed boots—but it's Tucker who shoves him into a nook between two battered banks of lockers. "Danny," they both snap.

He blinks down at them expectantly, staying quiet. Hey, they're the one's worried about the badass ghost fighting black belt who would love nothing more than an opportunity to strap Phantom down to an operating table and go wild with a cattle prod. He's just trying to graduate. Preferably with all his teeth.

"Valerie is acting just like you did freshman year," Sam hisses. "Right after the you-know-what."

Danny barks laughter. "Yeah, right."

Sam and Tucker remain stone-cold serious. Worse, they look worried.

They wouldn't suggest something so crazy without a lot of thought put into it.

Fuck.

= 

It's another two days before Danny gets a good—"good"—opportunity to talk to Valerie one-on-one. During that time he sees first-hand no less than 37 incidents of irrefutable acts of half-ghost-hood. How nobody else—including that ass, Wes!—has caught on yet is nothing short of a miracle. Valerie cut ties with every other person in their graduating class after some disastrous party embarrassment Danny never cared enough to find out the details of secondhand. She's kept her head down and her teeth bared at anybody who’s tried to meet her halfway, and it seems everyone's accepted the fact that Valerie Gray is the second worst delinquent in the entire school.

(The first is him, naturally.)

He corners her three minutes before the bell to end lunch will ring. He's got calculus next—an unexpected good turn in his life that still makes him giggle every time he actually has time to do his homework—and she's got English. They can't afford to skip either class, but hey, you only half-die once, right?

She scowls up at him, twitching her head out of a habit she's not yet broken. She only shaved her head a month ago. He's still reeling over how good she looks, and also how much it makes her look like the awesome older Valerie from the horrible future where he and Vlad ghost-melded and murdered a dismayingly large number of humans. If that future is still somehow lingering out there in the tangled fabric of spacetime like a bad hangnail, he’s pretty sure that Valerie died, fullstop. 

He’d like it if he could do something to help this Valerie not die, fullstop. 

She scowls up at him harder. "What do you want?"

He allows himself another couple seconds to just—bask. Yes, she's hot as hell, and if they were both normal humans she could easily break him over her knee like a fistful of kindling. He's not yet gotten an inch of the Fenton width. He's basically all elbows, and it's now all but impossible to find shoes in his size. It's great, really, just super.

Mostly though, he holds his breath and lets his ghost sense settle in a chilly, wriggly knot in his lungs. How the hell did he not realize she was the cause before now?

He smiles down at her. It becomes immediately apparent that this is the worst possible thing he could have chosen to do. He stops smiling. Somehow that's worse.

"We need to talk," he says, and immediately wants to hit himself. Has daytime television not taught him anything? That's the worst thing he could have said!

"I don't think so," she says, and tries to edge past him. He catches her elbow—

—and she's got him smashed up against a classroom door before he can even blink. 

"Uh," they say at the same time. He feels one of her hands go ice cube cold against his skin. Since it's him and not a normal person, it's far more likely her hand just dropped to some negative three-digit temperature. If he were human, he'd be at risk for frostbite. As he's not, it's more like a refreshing breeze. He swears he even gets a whiff of the Ghost Zone off of her; like a hard shock of static on his tongue in a midnight snowfall. It's... nice. Is that what he smell-feels like? 

Hmm. Distracting himself. Best to stop doing that.

She realizes after too long a beat of awkward silence that one of her arms has gone full-ghostly, and springs back with a half-hysterical yelp. He turns around to look at her again, rolling his shoulder out of a long habit of pretending that Dash trying to rough him up actually feels like anything. She looks—

Well. Kind of like some kind of frazzled toy dog that's had to deal with way too many idiot humans manhandling her, and like she's pissed that all the finger-biting she's tried has only gotten her a bunch of braindead cooing. Danny finds himself sympathizing, and also like maybe he needs to vent to somebody else aside from Cujo on their 3 a.m. Thursday walkies. He considers several facial expressions he could make at her, dismisses all of them, and settles on upping the grimacing and shoulder-rolling. It sort of works? She looks guilty, which is honestly one of the better reactions she could be leveling at him right now.

"We really do need to talk, actually," he says, feigning an apologetic tone while pretending very hard he hasn’t noticed her left arm suddenly stops at the elbow. 

"Pretty sure we don't," she retorts.

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, and then a show of looking pointedly at her invisible arm. She looks down at herself, does a double-take, yelps again, and hides both of her arms behind her back as she makes several stammering attempts at a believable excuse. Danny winces, torn between sympathy and secondhand embarrassment. Sam was right; this is exactly how he stumbled his way through the first six months of figuring out his powers. At least he had the benefit of a couple of friends and eventually Jazz too to help cover his tracks. Valerie's on her own. She's going to get found out at this rate, and accidentally or not she will drag him and Vlad down with her.

"It's okay," he says calmly.

"Everything's fine I don't know what you're talking about!" 

He looks at her, unimpressed, until she looks appropriately embarrassed. "Let's try this again," he says, and puts both hands up to stall when she goes to retort. "Please?"

She purses her lips, huffing through her nose, but nods. Good enough.

"You're not okay," he tells her. "You're freaking out because something crazy happened to you, and you don't have anybody to turn to for answers without risking everything. You think you're a monster, or that you're dead, or you're dying, or some shitty combination of all of the above. You're scared because you can't control what's happening, and you're scared because you know you're gonna get caught at this rate, and you're scared because you know exactly what the GIW does to the ecto-entities it manages to get its hands on, because you're the reason half the ghosts that frequent Amity Park have done time in a GIW containment cell. Right?"

Valerie stares.

She keeps staring. 

Eventually her mouth starts making some feeble attempt at protest.

A while after that she musters up the stamina to stammer out, "W-whahaaat are you talking about? I think you've got—ha! The wrong idea! Yeah! I bet you're thinking I'm, uh. Um. Possessed! Yes! I'm definitely possessed! You caught me, oh fuck, I'm definitely just another one of Walker's goons—nobody important though! No nefarious schemes going on either, honest! I just, uh, wanted to take a human… out for a spin? Yes, that’s what I’m doing. You definitely don't need to say anything to your parents—"

"Valerie," he says.

Her mouth snaps shut so hard her teeth click. She looks terrified, furious, and miserable all at once. She looks like she knows she's cornered, caught red-handed, and like she fully expects Danny to rat her out. Does she really think so little of him?

He winces inwardly. Of course she does. She's kept him at arm's length since freshman year because he never owned up the truth to her. She's been protecting him from himself all this time by staying away. She only knows the front he puts on for everybody else.

The bell rings. In a matter of seconds this hallway is going to be packed with students, and this is not a conversation to risk anyone overhearing. He looks around. Their options are to either continue this wedged in a janitor's closet (she'd probably shoot him), ghost her up to the roof (she'd definitely shoot him) or duck into a classroom. Luck's on his side for once. He'd cornered her just outside the wreckage of the wood shop; it's not going to be fit to teach in until after they graduate, and even the other, regular delinquents know better than to hang out anywhere with that much Fenton ectobiological hazard caution tape. 

He nods toward the door. "Please?"

She looks like she'd much rather go toe-to-tail with Desiree, but the sound of a crowd surging their way decides for her. She bolts for the door, Danny at her heels, and they're in and hidden out of sight before anyone could see them go. He watches through a small hole in a stretch of opaque plastic sheeting, patiently waiting for the rest of the school to disperse into their various classrooms. There're too many holes in the wood shop's walls to risk talking even with all the noise out there. 

Eventually the hall outside quiets. The late bell rings. It's about as safe as it'll ever get to have this talk.

"I can explain," she begins, her voice quiet and shaken. 

"You don't have to," he says, and turns on the scary eyes as he faces her. 

Three years of fighting nightmare monsters hasn't done Valerie the right kind of favors either. A metal cube materializes over her shoulder and flares brightly as it powers up a shot. She in turn steps smoothly into a defensive stance, light humming up and down her as she... doesn't pull her ghost-fighting suit out of the spectral hammerspace it sloughs off to whenever she doesn't need it. He blinks. He looks at the cube properly once it becomes clear she isn't going to shoot him. The light coming off it isn't pink anymore, but the same ghost-green as his own powers.

"Explain," she growls.

Probably not a good time for jokes. He keeps his serious face on, scary eyes and all. "I was in an accident freshman year. My parents couldn't get their ghost portal to work. They got lax about not letting Jazz and I down there unsupervised. I took Sam and Tucker down there one afternoon while they were out. One thing led to another, and I accidentally got their portal to work. While I was standing inside it."

She winces. Not like Jazz or Wes did when he stammered out the story to them just so they'd stop asking. Not in sympathy as they tried to imagine what that would have felt like and falling a thousand miles short (not that he ever said so). She gives him the same look he's seen in the mirror every time a bad dream of that day grabs him by the throat and shocks him awake. She knows.

"Don't shoot," he jokes weakly, and reaches for that cold spark that shares the same illogical, impossible space as his heart. 

Another three cubes appear in a neat arc over her head when he changes, not that he blames her. She's just found out she dated her sworn enemy once upon a time. He's definitely surprised she doesn't shoot. She does go a bit deer in the headlights again, but more like a ghost deer that's just as likely to shoot lasers as it might bolt into traffic. "I," she tries. "You. You're. The whole goddamn time?!"

"Okay," he says. "Point of order. Cujo really wasn't my dog yet when I got your dad fired. That was an accident and I'm still very, very sorry about that."

Her eyes go ghost-red. "You wanna try that again?"

He sucks air in through his teeth, sighs out another blue wisp. She's doing it too. Has been the whole conversation actually, and plenty of other times before. He wonders if she's figured out what it means yet. He adds it to the list he's mentally compiling, keeps his hands up, and starts running his mouth as contritely as he can. 

=

The sun's almost set by the time Danny's really, truly, fully convinced Valerie not to turn him into the half-ghost equivalent of Swiss cheese. He's so hungry he feels like he's nursing a gut wound, but he thinks it's the smart choice to not suggest talking all of this out over dinner. It's not like his allowance (and black hole of an appetite) would pay for more than clearing out the dollar menu at Jack-in-the-Box, and no way is he stupid enough to suggest Valerie pay. So he remains perched on one of the few remaining tables left in the wood shop, still in Phantom mode mostly to watch Valerie grind her teeth. She's sitting cross-legged on another table, cubes and scary eyes gone. She's reached the fun sort of balance between bone-tired exhaustion and impotent frustration with no good outlet that isn't the kind of violence that will draw a lot of unwanted attention. She sits there and stews awhile, turning over everything he's told her.

He pulls out his phone—tossing her a wry grin when she flinches—and lets her stew. He shoots out a "safe, taking longer than a thought it would" into the group chat he's got with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. Tucker lets him know he's rooting for him, and also they handled the Box Ghost's usual afternoon showing with a game of checkers, and Wulf's in town avoiding Walker again. Sam reminds him to work on his book report if Valerie doesn't skin him alive first. He shoots back a neutral affirmative to them both, then pulls up Bubble Blaster to kill time until Valerie feels like talking—

"It was two weeks ago," she starts.

Danny resists the urge to sigh and pockets his phone again. Well, he mimes pocketing his phone. It sort of phases into that weird imaginary skin between his halves with a buzz of protest. When he changes back it'll be in his back right pocket, fully charged. 

"Mister Masters," she pauses to make this really complicated grimace, like she'd sort of prefer calling Vlad something like Captain Fuckface but she's too polite to do it aloud. Danny makes a mental note to call Vlad exactly that the next time they run into each other. The fruitloop'll make a hilarious noise, he just knows it. "Mister Masters sent me info on another job. He told me some of his employees at Axion Labs had reported some ghost sightings, and my dad had mentioned seeing some weird stuff too, so. So I snuck out and went to go check it out. It didn't sound like anything bad, just. Y'know. Another ghost."

Two weeks ago her tone would have been one of complete, dismissive disgust. Two weeks ago she was still human though. Danny stays quiet, which is probably the smart thing to do.

"There was something on my radar when I got there. I thought it was gonna be you, honestly—" She glares, a flicker of red coloring her eyes. He shrugs and gives her a charming grin that's all, Who, me? She doesn't buy it for a second, not that he expected her too. Two weeks ago Vlad was being a real prick though, setting all sorts of nasty ghoulies he'd Frankenstein'd in his super gross secret lab loose in the downtown area. Danny's honestly not sure if he got any sleep for like, four straight days. There was a lot of doctored coffee involved, by which he means the kind of coffee a regular human couldn't drink without requiring a fairly immediate trip to the ER. 

(Tucker Foley tested.)

"Most of the reports were from some department I've never heard my dad talk about, and it's all three levels underground. If Technus hadn't juiced my suit up again I don't think I could've gotten down there—"

That's an alarm bell Danny super doesn't like the sound of. "Again?"

She waves her hand dismissively that's all, So last year, honey, try and keep up. "Doesn't matter. Point is, I got down there, and it—well. It looked like the Fen—uh. Your parents' lab. Kind of identical, actually. In a kinda creepy way."

Yeah, that's Vlad all over. Kinda creepy and not all that original. Oh well. He raises his eyebrows pointedly.

"Uh. Well, my radar went crazy down there, but I still couldn't get a real bead on anything. So I went poking around and found the framework of this—well, portal. I didn't realize it was a portal though, since it didn't look like the one in your parents' lab. It was standing on its own in the middle of the room, covered in cables—"

"Ours is a mess too," he points out. "You can't tell unless it's off though. I'm not really sure where all those cables and weird hunks of tech go while it's on...."

She gives him a look like she's regretting not shooting him earlier. He does the smart thing by not pointing out that shooting him is still very much on the table, and that if history's anything to go by she's a huge fan of shooting him. He can't help but think that opinion might, just possibly, if he's very lucky, have changed in the last couple of hours. Fingers crossed? Those cube cannon things hurt like a bitch.

"I was looking around that thing because it was freaking my radar out when Plas—Mister Masters showed up."

He reels a bit. She must've expected it, because it's her turn to raise her eyebrows pointedly. "Wait," he says, holding his hands up in a time out T. "Wait a minute. You knew he's Plasmius? The whole goddamn time?!"

"No," she snaps. "Only after Danielle."

"That's nearly the whole goddamn time. What the hell, he's been lording you over me as a reason not to blab the truth for years. For fuck's sake, Valerie—"

"You wanna maybe shut up and let me finish, ghost kid?"

He scowls. She scowls back, plus scary eyes. He's pretty sure she's not doing it intentionally, so the effect's not as impressive as it could be. Red continues to be a great color for her though, not that he's dumb enough to say that.

"Plasmius showed up, blasted me into the portal, and hit the switch before I could do anything," she bites out, hunching in on herself like she's wishing the ground would swallow her whole—aaaand there she goes, sinking through the table. He clears his throat loudly, she realizes what's going on and ends up flailing around like an idiot for a few seconds until her body gets physical enough to stay put. 

"Sam was right," he muses. "This is entertaining."

"Fuck you," she snaps without much venom. Mostly she sounds tired.

He sighs, hating himself a little for reasons he's not gonna explore right now. He's too hungry for introspection. "Did he evil-monologue why he did that to you?"

"A little. I was kinda out of it, after." She grimaces, gesturing at herself. "I didn't catch all of it. Something about being a distraction for you, though I didn't know that he meant you at the time."

"Oh goodie, this evil plot has layers, and ruining your life is apparently a fucking footnote." He scrubs his face with both hands and changes back into his plain Jane self. Valerie twitches badly, eyes flashing red and a fun eye-watering white shimmer shivering up her whole body. Huh. "Hey, have you tried changing back since that asshat zapped you?"

"Of course not," she hisses, looking at him like he just suggested she go streaking through the administration office. "I'm trying to keep a low profile while I figure out a way to fix what he did to me."

Ah, hell.

"I'm sorry," seems the smart thing to start with. He hops off the table, hands up where she can see them as he approaches her. He takes a risk at reaching for her hands. She surprises him again by continuing to not shoot him. "I'm really, really sorry. But there's no fixing this. You just get—better at being this." He squeezes a little when she starts shaking her head and pulling away, amping up the 'I'm sorry for your loss' face he's had to get way too good at. Superhero, he ain't. "I'm serious. Vlad's been like me—like us—since like, '85 or whenever he got zapped by a proto-portal, and he got really sick after."

Her eyes go big and laser pointer red again. "S-sick?"

"Ecto-acne. Ever hear of it?" She shakes her head. "You'll probably be okay, if Axion's portal is based on my parents' portal, or even Vlad's."

"He has a portal?"

"In Wisconsin," he confirms grimly. "He's been trying to build a second one ever since he moved here, but I kept messing with him. I didn't think to check the basements of any of his evil companies."

"Axion Labs isn't evil," she retorts instead of doing the sensible thing and blaming him outright for the shit she’s mired in for keeps. 

He raises an eyebrow. "Sure. And Invis-o-Bill really is hellbent on establishing a ghost-human empire capital in Amity fucking Park."

She winces.

"Wait. You didn't actually believe that, did you?"

She winces harder.

"Ohhhh Valerie," he sighs, dropping her hands to melodramatically sag against another table. "I'm wounded. Honestly, truthfully, hurt that you'd think so highly of fucking Invis-o-Bill. Haven't you been paying attention to the shit the gossip mags shill about me? I'm either a ghost blob with delusions of grandeur in a skinsuit or the ostracized son of Pariah Dark and Desiree. You don't think my evil ghost parents have been around enough to teach me how to be a good evil emperor, do you?"

She's trying—and failing—not to laugh. "Shut up. How was I supposed to know what to believe, huh? None of the ghosts ever say shit about you."

"Yeah, 'cause they're cool with keeping my secret!"

She presses forward to jab a finger in his chest. She's still kind of flicker-y at the edges, like she hasn't quite decided she isn't going to go full ghost hunter on him, so it sort of feels like another hard burst of static. Goosebumps break out all down his skin; it's all he can do not to shiver. "What's with that, anyway? Most of 'em are so hellbent on destroying you for stopping them again and again, but none of them have ever come blabbing your big life-ruining secret to me or your parents!"

He shrugs. "Honestly? I don't think it's ever occurred to any of them. I'm pretty sure Skulker's the only one who knows like, for sure that Vlad's the same as me, and that's only 'cuz he likes to take jobs from Vlad now and then. The others?" Another, more expansive shrug as he slides sideways out of her range. So she makes him uneasy. What about it? She's only shot him point blank like, five hundred times if she's done it once. He'd really like to get out of this whole situation without any new burns to hide.

"Huh," she says. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. It's not—I dunno. I think it'd be like cheating for most of 'em to go blabbing to some humans or even Vlad. They wanna take me down, sure, but they wanna do it on their own steam. I'm definitely not complaining."

"Course you're not, because you are ludicrously overpowered compared to most of the ghosts out there itching for a little world domination."

He grins down at her, big and sloppy. "Hey, give it some time and you'll be OP as fuck too."

She reacts to that little nugget of wisdom just like he expected her to; retreating halfway across the room and shrinking in on herself like she's dearly wishing for a bit of time travel to undo what Vlad did to her on a selfish whim. Well. A conversation with Clockwork is an option still on the table. He'll give her a few more days of adjustment before suggesting a fun little jaunt into the Ghost Zone. He's honestly not sure if Clockwork and her are properly acquainted. That should be good for a laugh if nothing else. 

"Hey," he says companionably. "I mean it. You're gonna be okay."

She scoffs. He pretends not to hear the dampness to it. "Oh, sure. So long as I do exactly what you say, right?"

"This isn't blackmail," he says, injecting as much calm as he can to his voice. "Honest. I mean, I won't lie and pretend I'm not hoping you listen to me. If you get found out it's both of our necks on the chopping block. Sure, I'll make sure Vlad takes the fall too, so that's some nice revenge wrapped with a bow, but it's not like we'd be around to really appreciate it, y'know?"

She makes another, slightly damper noise. He considers the risk of hugging her against the risk of walking away with all his parts where they ought to be, and he decides the smart thing is to stay put and pretend right along with her that she's definitely not crying.

"I want to help you, Valerie. I've been where you're at. I know how much it sucks. And I had Sam and Tucker helping me while I tried to figure it all out. You... you need somebody to help you. Trust me on this much at least, okay? This isn't something you can do alone."

Her various damp noises evolve into an outright sob. "Fuck."

Yeah. That about sums it up.

"Fuck," she hisses out again, pawing roughly at her face. "This. I didn't want—all this time and you never—I coulda killed you but you didn't—and now I'm—!"

Okay. Yeah. Superheroes don't leave anybody to cry so miserably on their own. He's hardy. Even if she shoots him he can hang out, make sure she's okay to get home on her own. And they both skipped their last two classes. He ought to go rummage around their teachers' desks and try to figure out what tonight's homework is. She's got every reason to burn her textbooks and scream fuck it at the moon (Danny's sophomore year was a personal low point), and it's just as likely Skulker will pull some new scheme to try and skin him tonight as any other school night, but it's the principle of the thing. They're both just trying to graduate at this point, and they're so close. 

It might seem so incredibly, completely stupid, to care about graduating with all the other bullshit in their lives. Most days, it is stupid to care. But there are some days that stupid, pointless piece of paper is the only reason Danny chooses to get out of bed. He chooses to remember that he's still human enough for human consequences. He needs that diploma to get into college, and he needs to get into college so he can earn his bachelor's, and he needs to be stable enough to earn his pilot's license, and then somehow net 1,000 hours as pilot-in-command in a fucking jet, and on and on and on, because there's still this stupid, stupid, stupid little voice in his head that won't shut up about how cool it'd be to actually manage to become an astronaut despite—

—everything.

He wants to ask what Valerie wanted to be when she grew up, but that's... not now. That's a conversation for later, if he's lucky enough that she'll trust him with that little, foolish dream every kid clings to even when they're loudly proclaiming how stupid it is. Everybody grows up and realizes how stupid the dream jobs they wanted when they were kids was; it's the real dreamers that grit their teeth and keep working despite—

—everything.

He takes the risk, the leap of faith. He closes the distance between them and plays a pattern across her shoulder to warn her he's coming in for a hug. No cubes or guns or accidental ecto-rays materialize to blast him into next week, so he calls it a win and finishes the deed. She's all hunched shoulders and hard fingers knotted in his shirt, hot tears and probably some snot at war with how neutrally temperature-wise the rest of her feels. Everybody else—everybody human—feels hot as a sunburn if he gets too close. Ghosts are still too cold, though thanks to his handy-dandy ice powers none of them are ever cold enough to hurt like humans do. 

Here and now, hugging Valerie and whispering soft, pointless bullshit into her frizzy hair is the closest to human he's felt in—

—in too long.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't be," he replies, instead of Me too.

"Thank you," she says.

"Nothin' to thank me for," he replies, instead of You should be blaming me for this.

"I'm scared," she says.

"It's going to be okay," he replies, and means it.

=

It's almost nine by the time he makes it to Sam's house, and he's so hungry he tunnel visions twice on the flight over. Lucky him, his friends and secret keepers know how bullshit his anatomy is, and there's a veritable buffet awaiting him when he gets there. Luckier him, his friends and secret keepers know better than to try and hold a Serious Conversation when he's like this, and leave him alone for the better part of 20 minutes before they both start loudly clearing their throats.

He slows his flawless imitation of a combine harvester long enough to muster a, "Hngh?"

Sam and Tucker waste precious moments he could be upping his calorie count with another psychic conversation that they're clearly both enjoying. He scowls, for all the good it'll do him.

"How'd it go?" Sam asks.

"Well," he says, setting his fork down to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Manners, schmmaners. "She didn't shoot me."

"Damn it," Tucker says loudly, and pulls out his phone.

"Seriously?" Danny asks.

"He owes Jazz twenty bucks," Same explains as Tucker begins a furiously-typed text. Danny suppresses the urge to shudder. Something about the haptic feedback on cell phones really sets him on edge. He genuinely doesn't know if it's a pet peeve or a ghost thing. Either way he always has to squash the insane urge to pitch Tucker's phone at the nearest brick wall, and right now that is an honest struggle.

"Seriously?" He repeats. "You bet against me?"

Tucker pauses long enough to level an incredulous glare at him. "Dude."

...yeah, okay. That's fair. Danny would've bet against himself too, if he'd known to. 

"Rude," he says anyway, on principle. 

Sam and Tucker both make a huge show of rolling their eyes, but at least Sam pushes another three slices of pizza in his direction. They even ordered in, so there's actual meat and cheese on it. He has the best friends a guy could ask for, even if Tucker is an ass nine times out of ten. Serves him right to lose 20 bucks, voting against him against his sister of all people.

"Details," Sam demands. "How's she doing, what happened, is she gonna stop trying to kill you, et cetera."

"Vlad happened," he manages through half a slice of pizza. Sam and Tucker both wince; Tucker hard enough he actually drops his phone.

"Fuck," Tucker hisses. "Why?"

"Dunno yet. And I dunno about you, but figuring out his latest scheme has definitely become number one on my honey do list."

They both nod. Tucker's the one to ask the important follow up. "And Valerie? How's she doing?"

He makes a seesaw motion with one hand. "Again, gotta stress the whole 'didn't shoot me' thing." He grins real sleazily while Tucker groans. "She's not great though. I foresee the next like, two months helping her out taking priority over all the usual ghost bullshit. Short of like, apocalyptic ghost attacks, of course."

"Fair," Sam and Tucker both say. Sam gives him a pointed capital L Look, going so far as to pull his plate a few inches away so he can better direct his instinctive growl at her. "She's not gonna rat, is she?"

"No," comes out more snarl-y than he means it to, but—pizza. Sam takes him at face value at least, and gives him his plate back, with an extra slice of meat lover's for good behavior. She's his favorite. 

"We're gonna co-op," he adds, and pretends not to notice the Extraordinarily Concerned Psychic Look Sam and Tucker share over that bit of news. Whatever. They can stress over the idea of Valerie being included in their group. Him? He's gonna polish off the rest of this pizza, pull his one (1) notebook and one (1) pencil out of his bag, and he's going to get as much of a headstart on his homework before patrol as he can. If he actually manages to finish his two pages of grammar problems he's going to call it a great day. Anything else? Well, that's gravy so far as he's concerned. 

He grins to himself a little, thinking of Valerie's new phone number burning a hole in his pocket. If anything toothsome decides to show up tonight he got the okay to text her. And honestly? For all that she's in the same bullshit hell as he, Vlad, and Elle are....

Well. It's probably shitty of him, but it's still nice to have an ally and friend in this half-ghost bullshit hell.

[wizardessheart-sideb]

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said nonchalantly, as if we were in town and not in a forest on a hard to reach peninsula. For a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating. But no, Zett was really here, right in front of me.

“What are you doing here?!” I demanded. “You’re not a student, are you?”

“No, I’m here doing some freelance security,” he replied. He looked weirdly proud of himself, smirking and folding his arms against his puffed-up chest.

“‘Freelance security?’” I wanted to sigh. What was he doing now? This was seriously the weirdest dude I’d ever met.

“Yeah. I’m just making sure the Academy’s secure so no weirdos get in,” he told me.

“Well, you already failed. You’re here.” I couldn’t stop myself from letting the words slip out of my mouth. But instead of getting mad, he just grinned at me.

“Oh, I’m allowed here,” he said. I really doubt it, I wanted to say, but pissing off a guy in the middle of the forest seemed like a really bad idea. “All right, I make sure my secret entrance is secure, but really, I watch out for creeps,” he added with a shrug.

“Is that a problem?” I asked. All right. I could bite for a moment.

“Well, yeah. You got a private school full of privileged rich kids and a lot of them either come from real old money or their parents are celebrities. And also, you know the kind of parents that send their kids to private school,” he said with accusatory eyes and a bitter note in his voice. I wouldn’t lie, that stung a bit.

“No, I wouldn’t, actually. I was home-schooled until now, and I’m an orphan” I told him. I wanted to add, “Are you happy now?” but the smirk slid off his face in an instant and there was something… strange in his eyes. Was that worry?

“Shit, are you also a part of that whack job cult – I mean, are you a part of Kristina’s church?” Zett quickly caught himself. I raised an eyebrow.

“Kristina? The waitress?” I searched my mind for the night we met. She had a brother here, doesn’t she? I don’t think I’ve met him. “Uh, no, I don’t know Kristina or her brother at all.” Zett’s body relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Geez, you scared me. I was worried you were a part of their cult or something. Zacharias – her twin – was home-schooled too until a year ago. It’s kind of their thing.” He straightened up, that cocky grin returned to his face. “Well, I’m glad you’re not getting religious trauma.”

“… Thank you?” What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Like, I guess I’m glad, too? “But really. Why and how are you here? Don’t you need an Academy emblem to get in?” I asked. When in doubt, change the subject.

“I got a fake. It works just fine and I’m free to come and go as I please.”

“To do your ‘freelance security?’”

“That and bring people things they need.”

...

“Wait… you’re an errand boy?!”

“Sometimes. For my good friends. And you, if you want to hire me,” he added with a wink.

“So you just avoided my question for like, five minutes to avoid telling me you’re just an errand boy?” What was up with this guy? I didn’t know whether to laugh or be irritated.

“You know I like my secrets,” he said. “But seriously, what are youdoing out here looking for a lantern?”

“I’m being hazed,” I replied. That wiped the grin off his face. “What’s with the seriousness?” I asked as he started walking deeper into the forest. Not knowing what to do, I followed him. As we walked, he rummaged through his bag and brought out

“I know what you’re looking for. I helped design it,” he told me. “When you find it, don’t touch it. If you do, it’ll start projecting ghosts and shit.”

“I, uh… Thank you? But why are you helping me?” I inquired.

“Why not?” he replied. There was a moment of silence and he turned back to me, shrugging. “You look like you’re in a bad mood. I doubt you wanna deal with the lantern.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” I kept my eyes peeled for the lantern or any kind of animal I can ask. Zett and I were silent as we walked through the forest. I tried to stay on my guard too, just in case. I really should invest in pepper spray or a knife.

We turned a corner on the trail and I spotted an owl on a branch, looking regal as it surveyed its surroundings. Yay! Now I canget to work.

“Excuse me, Mr. Owl,” I called out, approaching the bird. It looked down at me. “Hi, I’m looking for a lantern. It looks like a golden sphere. Have you seen anything like that around here?”

“I don’t know what it looked like, but I did see something glowing over yonder.” The owl stretched his wing off the trail, towards a large oak tree.

“Great! Thank you so much!” Carefully, I stepped over some bushes and went off the path.

“Uh, what was that?” Zett hurried after me, gracefully stepping over the bushes and getting to me in no time. Huh. I wouldn’t have thought he could move so elegantly, but here we were.

“I can speak to animals. I figured they’d know where the lantern is. Or at least, they’d have a clue,” I told him.

“Impressive.” Again, a silence fell between us as we made our way towards the big tree.

“So, who are you doing errands for? Or is that confidential?” I added teasingly. He laughed.

“Maybe.” He flashed me a grin. “Nah, I can tell you. My best friend Isabelle asked me to get her a makeup collection that released earlier today, so I’m going to go give it to her.”

“Isabelle? Super short, purple hair?” I asked.

“You know her?”

“Yeah, I met her earlier,” I said. It was probably for the best I didn’t mention we lived in the same suite. “Do you know everyone in the Night Class?”

“Mm, probably not. But I know a lot of them.” We reached the large oak tree. From behind it, there was a faint, golden glow. I hurried towards it. “Hey, remember not to touch it!” Zett called after me. I peeked around the tree and sure enough, there it was, casting star-shaped rays of light onto the ground. Honestly, it was a very pretty lantern. Maybe Zett could make me a real lantern that looked like this. And speak of the devil, he walked right on by me, getting of his knees and fishing what looked like a screwdriver out of his back pocket. He carefully stuck it into the lantern and after fiddling with it for a few seconds, the lantern flickered and smoke poured out of the holes. The acrid stench made me cough, but soon the thick black smoke turned to gray wisps. Zett picked it up and handed it to me.

“There you go. It should be safe now,” he said. I couldn’t see anything written on his face that would tell me if he was lying or not. He seemed to be telling the truth. Not to mention this looked broken now. Tentatively, I grabbed it and held onto it tight. It was still pretty warm and nothing happened.

“Thanks again for helping me,” I told him.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t know what’s up with you, but I hope you feel better. Really.” He paused. “When you give that back to whoever, tell them it was smoking when you found it and you had to douse it with water, all right? Don’t tell them I was here.”

“Okay…” And again, with the shady stuff. “Uh, I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. You ever need me, tell Isabelle and she’ll call me. I’ll see you later, baby.” It was good he left because otherwise I would have hit him. Geez. How was I going to handle him? If he ran errands for the other students, I was bound to run into him again. I didn’t mind him he was nice, but man, he was really capable of leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

I hurried back to the trail and back to Zeus. As soon as he realized the lantern was off, that gleeful smile on his face disappeared.

“What the hell?! Why isn’t the lantern lit?!” he demanded, storming over to me. He wrenched the lantern out of my hands.

“I found it because it was smoking. I couldn’t really figure out the mechanics, but I think something’s busted in it,” I lied.

“Damn it! I’m going to have to have my friend look at it,” he groaned. I wondered if he meant Zett. “Well… Good job, I guess.” There was a distinct bitter note in his voice.

“Cool, I’m going back to the dorms now.” I didn’t wait for an answer, heading back to the mausoleum and back to my room. As I neared our suite, I could smell something spicy and fragrant in the air. My nose twitched. I slipped into our suite and peeked into the kitchen. Dorian was stirring something in a large pot, Aika beside him slathering melted butter onto some rolls.

“That smells really good,” I commented. Aika flinched a little and the two turned back to face me. Dorian gave me a stern look and immediately my stomach dropped.

“Can you go tell Isabelle to get her ass in here? I told her dinner was ready ten minutes ago,” he demanded. I just nodded and hurried out of the room. Isabelle’s door was propped open just a smidgen and I poked my head in. Isabelle was on the floor, a huge cardboard box with an intricate pattern printed on it sitting in front of her. It was full of assorted makeup items. I knocked and she looked up.

“Come on in! You’re just in time! I just got this delivered!” she told me. I opened the door and ventured in a step.

“Dinner’s ready and Dorian doesn’t seem happy with you,” I told her quietly. She just laughed and stood up, leaving the box in place.

“Oh, Dorian’s always big mad,” she said. Together, we walked back to the kitchen. “So, how did the first day go?” Isabelle asked as she plucked a roll off a plate.

“It was fine. Hard, but fine,” I told her.

“How did Zeus’ dumbass hazing go?” Aika asked.

“How do you know about that?”

“Tsukasa came in here in a panic and told us about it,” Dorian replied. “He wanted us to do something about it.” And you didn’t? I made a mental note not to trust them in an emergency.

“Poor thing was hysterical. His heart’s too big for him,” Isabelle commented, taking a seat. I quickly got my own food and sat down across from her. “He’s too nice for the Night Class, if you ask me.”

“I don’t know, he’s pretty stubborn,”Aika commented.

“He and Fandamilia seem really nice,” I added. Isabelle’s lips pursed into a fine line. Dorian snorted.

“I wouldn’t mention her if I were you. Isabelle hates her,” he told me.

“What? Why?” Once again, words I shouldn’t have said slipped out. I really need to work on my filter.

“Because she likes Zeus and keeps trying to justify his shitty behavior,” Isabelle said tensely. “I just don’t think you should try and make excuses or ignore people’s shitty behavior.”

“I mean… Yeah…” Aika said, looking a little uncomfortable. “No one’s perfect and you can’t bleach red flags. Not acknowledging bad behavior isn’t great. … But she’s in love, you know? She just wants him to love her back.”

“Explains it, but it’s not an excuse,” Isabelle added.

“I’m stopping this before it becomes a fight,” Dorian spoke up. “We’re moving on.” I wondered if Isabelle excused the bad things Zett did. Or maybe she didn’t know about him being a weird and lowkey creepy flirt. But then again, he didn’t have to derail his job to go help me with the lantern. Speaking of, Isabelle had that makeup package, so he must’ve already come through here. Did he see my name on the nameplate next to my door? Did Isabelle mention me to him? Was I going to run into him again? Something told me that even if I wasn’t suitemates with Isabelle, I’d be seeing more of him.

[out-of-jams]

The Start of Something New || myg

The third and final installment to Cheers If You Agree!

Summary: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Maybe you were wrong, maybe you really were being set up. In a long winded prank and there was a camera hidden somewhere to capture your embarassment. Had someone been pretending to be him this whole time? 

Someone better call Nev Schulman because you were being motherfucking catfished.”

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Genre: Idol!Yoongi. Fan!Reader. Some cursing. Fluff. So much fluff omg. Drabble. 

A/N: Writing this made me uwu omg why am I so soft in the club right now.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. 

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The lights inside the coffee shop were dim. So much so, that the first thought that popped into your mind was that it was closed. That you’d been set-up.

Or maybe that was just the nerves kicking in and overriding your common sense. Because you knew that you weren’t being set-up to make a fool of yourself. You had the texts and the phone calls and the snapchat’s to prove it.

The second thought to enter your mind was holy fuck you were really about to do this.

Taking a deep breath to fill your lungs with the surprisingly clean air of downtown Seoul, you opened your eyes to look at your reflection in the shop window. Luckily, the blinds were closed so no one could see as your fingers scrambled to smooth down the stray wisps of hair and fix your already perfect sweater collar. Also, you really needed to figure out how to wipe the nervous expression from your face. Because it wouldn’t be good to meet him for the first time looking like an absolute train wreck.

Him.

Min-fucking-Yoongi. World famous rapper. 1/7 of Bangtan Sonyeondan.

The same man you’d been in contact with everyday for the past month. How had it all happened? Well, Twitter DM’s turned into the exchanging of KakaoTalk IDs, which after a week turned into the first phone call of many. And then, well, there you were: standing outside in the warmth of the setting sun like a statue.

Cars passed by behind you and you watched their morphed reflection as you attempted to get ahold of yourself. After a few moments of deep breaths and meditative breathing, you finally reached out to grasp the handle on the front door and--

It was locked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Maybe you were wrong, maybe you really were being set up. In a long winded prank and there was a camera hidden somewhere to capture your embarassment. Had someone been pretending to be him this whole time?

Someone better call Nev Schulman because you were being motherfucking catfished.

With lips pursed and eyes narrowed, you started to reach into your purse to pull out your phone to send off a very angrily worded text message when the sound of a door popping open caught your attention. But it wasn’t from the one in front of you, no. It came from the alleyway to your left and your neck twisted at the noise.

A head of dark hair peaked through the small door opening and looked both ways before finally glancing in your direction. You didn’t recognize him, had never seen that man a day in your life. But by the black apron tied around his neck and the shop’s name embezzled across the chest, you figured that he worked in the same coffee shop that you were trying to get into.

The man--boy, perhaps?--looked young. With bangs parted to reveal his forehead and pale pink lips parted as his brown eyes narrowed on you, he stood tall. And you were about ten seconds away from asking why he was staring at you when he leaned even further out of the side door to whisper:

“Are you her?”

Blinking in confusion, your head tilted to the side. “Huh?”

He licked his lips and glanced nervously around him before speaking again, voice hushed. “You know, her. The one.”

Were you about to be propositioned for marriage by a dude you didn’t even know? Oh god, what if he’d been the one to catfish you?

At your uncomprehending stare, he lifted a hand from the void behind the door and gestured inside. “Are you here to meet...’ya know? Him.”

It clicked.

How it had taken so long, you had no idea. But your eyebrows shot into your hair and you really hoped that the two of you were on the same page or else things would get real awkward real fast.

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, fingers tightening around the straps of your purse in aprehension.

The boy seemed to deflate, tension visibly bleeding from his shoulders as he stepped further outside and held the door open for you. And when you failed to move, he waved you forward. “Come on in. He’s waiting for you.”

How very James Bond.

You walked forward slowly, muscles tense just in case that boy was crazy and tried to pull something. But he didn’t even move until it was to follow you inside, the door banging shut behind both of you. Though you were too busy taking in the interior of the coffee shop to notice. It was beautiful. From the brick wall finish, to the pretty overhead lights and the soft music playing, to the gentle warmth that heated the air from a crackling fireplace.

The calm, quiet atmosphere paried with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods was almost enough to calm you.

“Through here.” You almost jumped at the voice coming from behind.

The boy--barista--passed you in the short hallway and gestured for you to follow. And you did, the sound of your shoes tap-tap-tapping on the wood floor syncing with your heartbeat pounding a mealody-less beat in your eardrums. With every step that you took, every empty table that you passed until you followed the boy as he turned left, brought on a fresh wave of nerves.

And when he reached a closed door in the back and stepped to the side to let you pass, you were practically a mess. As if sensing your internal dilemma, the barista smiled gently and stepped away to let you have a moment. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.”

You could only nod as you watched him disappear back around the corner. And took a deep breath to steel your nerves. This was it. Once you opened that door there was no turning back. No ignoring the flutter in your stomach whenever his name popped up on your phone screen. No pretending like you weren’t falling for a man that you’d never even met.

The door handle was cool beneath your fingers and you twisted it down and pushed it open before you could second guess yourself. Talk yourself out of it. Somehow force yourself to believe that this wouldn’t turn out well. That you were being stupid, an idiot, a--

A pair of dark, wide catlike eyes peered up at you, pinned you down in the doorway. And a beat of silence passed in which the two of you just stared each other down like you were caught in some kind of k-drama. In which the air stilled, humming as if in a dream. But god, if you were, you really didn’t want to wake up.

Because Min Yoongi sat on a comfortable looking bench tucked into a booth in the corner. The room was small, intimate, made for couples who wanted privacy away from prying eyes. Not that you were a couple! Even though you kind-of-not-so-secretly wished that you were. But you weren’t. You were friends.

Yeah, friends.

Though friends didn’t have their heart jump-started by the way their friend looked adorable-yet-so-freaking-handsome in a white long-sleeved sweater and black pants. Nor did someone have a kaleidoscope of butterflies take flight in their stomach due to a soft smile spreading across their friend’s lips. Didn’t wonder what they may feel like pressed against your own.

Whatever thing stopped time, halted reality for a moment, broke as Min Yoongi slowly stood to greet you. He ran a hand through his dark hair, tongue wetting his lips almost nervously. And gummy smile made an appearance, puffing up his soft cheeks.

“You’re here.” Even his voice was more perfect in person. Deep and soothing with a lazy drawl that drew his words together like calligraphy.

“I’m here.” And frozen apparently. Because you couldn’t seem to pry yourself from the doorway.

Shit, what were you supposed to do in situations like these? Hug him? Give him a handshake? A nod of your head? Why was there not a handbook on how to greet someone you’d bared your soul to virtually, but never in person.

The same conflict seemed to occur to Yoongi, if the flickering of emotion in his eyes was anything to go by. But then he seemed to make a decision and lifted his arms slowly, shyly. “It’s nice to see you. Finally.”

You legs unfroze themselves at his silent invitation and you crossed the room in only a few short steps. And as you stepped into his embrace, and his arms wound around your waist and the comforting scent of Yoongi overtook your senses along with his warmth, your nerves dissolved. The worry, anxiety, thoughts of what-if left your mind the second the gentle fragrance of his shampoo caressed your nose and refused to let you go.

The same way he seemed almost reluctant to do so.

But he did, stepped back to flash you another gummy smile and a feeling of something took root deep in your chest.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

Because it was.

And as Yoongi gestured for you to take a seat and the door opened to reveal the barista, you understood just what that something was.

The start of something new.

[knives-and-narcissi]

A Christmas Wish & A Birthday Gift (Merry Birthday, Captain!)

Summary:

Historia intends to give the Orphans of Paradis a Christmas treat, and manages to convince Levi to assist her. In the process, the Captain ends up with a little treat of his own. Pure Christmas Fluff. Rivahisu, but not overbearingly so.

AO3

Fanfiction.net

Or read in full below.

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, it’s Christmas Day tomorrow.”

Zackley’s rumbling tone cut through the meeting room in the military HQ of Mitras. He sat at one end of a long table, flanked either side by members of the government and higher military. At the other sat the Queen, with Levi at her side. The topic of discussion was the delivery of food and gift donations to the children of the underground. The scouts had worked their asses off gathering it all; now they just needed a little help from the other branches to get it down there. So far it was proving difficult to secure said help. 

“Yes, correct, Premiere. I’m well aware of that. Which is why this proposal is so important.”

Levi was silent as he watched Historia speak beside him, eyes burning brightly. He crossed his arms, waiting for the protests from the brass to continue. He’d warned her this would happen, but she didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. 

Good. Neither was he.

“But how many children are there in the Underground? It would take a significant number of personnel to support the logistics of such an operation. You can’t really expect us to draft in that many MPs this late in the day? When they should be enjoying the festivities with their families tomorrow?”

Levi gnashed his teeth, uncrossing his arms to take a sip from the tea cup in front of him. Anything to stop himself biting out a response. Historia had asked him to let her handle things as much as possible. She wanted the opportunity to lead properly; he wanted to give it to her.

“We’re well aware of this fact, as you should have been a month ago when we first submitted the proposal for your review, Premiere. If you were familiar with it, you would also have seen that we have the support of the Special Operations squad and Captain Levi.” She gestured sideways to Levi, and he inclined his head. It was true, his squad had been more than willing to give up a few hours of their Christmas for her cause. Their cause. “As well as several other squads from the Survey Corps. They’re happy to assist with the deliveries tomorrow. The only support we need from the Military Police is the opening and manning of two stairways for a few hours. We’ve coordinated drop off points where children can collect the food and gifts that we’ve gathered, we simply need you to open up the Underground to the troops.”

Levi raised his brows as Zackley cleared his throat. He glanced sideways at Historia. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but she held that fierce look of determination she always got when she was dead set on something.

Nicely done.

She might not yet have the experience and wiliness of Erwin, but by nineteen, she had begun to mature into quite the negotiator. 

Nile Dok ran a hand over his face, before frowning at the table. “Your Majesty. I understand why you want to do this, but surely one day won’t make too much difference? Why don’t we arrange it for the day after tomorrow? A large number of the MPs based in the districts of the entry points do have families. They’ll want to spend the day with their children. Are we really going to take that away from them?”

Levi couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Must be nice, to have a table full of food, and a family you can sit around it with while you all enjoy the day. Unlike -”

He felt Historia’s boot meet his shin under the table. He grunted in surprise, and she seemed happy to take the opportunity to cut in. 

“We understand. But it’s just a few hours; they won’t miss the whole day. We’ve coordinated everything to be as efficient as possible. Commander, we really need your help. The children need your help. Imagine a world where your own daughters couldn’t rely on the kindness of others should they ever be in a desperate situation. That is a world we wish to move away from.”

Well, shit. Perhaps she was more like Erwin than he gave her credit for.

Nile appeared to war with himself inwardly for a moment, his fingers stroking that pathetic wisp of hair on his chin. He sighed. “Alright. Fine. I’ll allocate the men. Providing the Premiere is happy, of course.”

Levi and Historia both looked over to Zackley, who was regarding them both shrewdly as he rested his bearded chin on clasped hands. “Well then. That’s settled. I think you both got what you came for.”

Levi felt Historia’s knee nudge his beneath the table, gently this time. He made to take another sip of his tea, hiding the way his lips twitched upwards behind the cup.

—

Historia practically skipped out onto the street as they headed for the carriage. “We did it!”

Levi climbed up into the cab after her, grumbling. “You’re the damn Queen. Shouldn’t have even needed to negotiate.”

She made a face at him as he settled into the seat at her side. “Stop being a grump. It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re going to make a lot of children a whole lot happier tomorrow!”

Huh. That was true, although it was going to take a whole lot more than a few turkey drumsticks and knitted scarves to solve the problems of the Underground. He didn’t voice this, though. He didn’t want to do anything to endanger the way she beamed in the moment.

—

Levi let her chatter on about the joys of Christmas as the carriage wheels clattered along the cobbled streets. For a kid that had been robbed of love in her youth, she sure seemed to have an abundance of it to pour out these days. One of the reasons he admired her so much. She told him animatedly how pretty the fir tree - the one his squad had felled - now looked, adorned with decorations in the playroom of the orphanage, and how the children had made Christmas cookies decorated with questionable looking snowmen, and how the holly she’d cut to lay across the banisters and mantlepieces had left her with several war-wounds. 

Levi gave a small tch at that, taking her soft hands in his rough. He inspected the small cuts with an arched brow. “Barely even a scratch, brat. Call yourself a soldier?”

“Not any more,” she elbowed his side with a grin.

Levi grunted, releasing her hand. “Fair.”

—

They were less than ten minutes away from the Orphanage in Orvud when she sprung the request on him.

“Are you shitting me?”

“Go on, please!”

“Zero chance, Your Majesty.”

Historia pouted at him as she held up the red suit and hat she’d miraculously produced from one of the packages they were supposedly delivering to the orphans in her care that evening.

“The children will love it! I won’t tell anyone.”

“Absolutely not.”

Historia sighed wistfully. “Alright. I should have known you’d be the same as Commander Dok when it comes to these sort of things.”

He turned his head to look at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. She batted her lashes at him, still wearing that ridiculously will-shattering pout.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

“Give it here.” He yanked the suit from her hands, doing his best to ignore her little whoops of glee.

—

The fake cotton-wool beard itched his face like hell. How in the name of the three walls did people willingly not shave? Facial hair was disgusting.

The door to the playroom slid open slowly. 

“Surprise!” Historia exclaimed beside him, hands in the air. 

The children stared, round eyed. She elbowed him.

“Ho ho ho,” Levi muttered.

That seemed to do it. Dozens of tiny feet pattered against the floorboards as the brats flew at him with cries of ‘Santa!’

Amidst the chaos of being accosted by the group of frenzied children, Levi felt Historia’s warm hand slip into his own. She lead him and his band of followers over to an armchair by the fireplace.

“Sit.”

He did as he was told, although he tutted quietly beneath the beard.

Historia turned to the children while gesturing to Levi’s lap. “Who’s first?”

—

And so it went. Kid after kid, they all perched their bony little asses on his thigh, told him what good little brats they’d been all year long (which, quite frankly, was a pack of lies from most of them) and they got a red and white striped candy cane for their trouble, which Historia surreptitiously slipped him. He spoke as little as he could help it, merely giving hums of agreement or nods of his head.

If Erwin and Mike could see him now, they’d piss their pants, the pair of bastards. Thank fuck Hange wasn’t around.

“Tell anyone about this, and I’ll kick your ass.” He muttered, leaning toward Historia.

“A promise is a promise.” She muttered back, pressing her hip into his arm.

The final kid, and the biggest pain in Levi’s ass, was a boy named Freddie. They went through almost the whole charade without problem, until it got to the part where he was supposed to slide off Levi’s knee. He didn’t. He turned his pink little face, framed with dark curls, up at Historia, and yelled, “your turn!”

That set them all off. A horde of banshees, all screeching about how Historia also needed to sit on Santa’s lap, because she had been the ‘goodest girl of all.’

Levi would strangle every last one of them. But not tonight. It was almost Christmas, after all.

He didn’t look at her, but he could still see from the corner of his eye that she was the colour of the shitty suit he was wearing. Huh. Served her right for coming up with such a ridiculous idea. 

He patted his thigh, mirroring her earlier command. “Sit.”

Her ass was much less bony than the kids’, despite still being as petite as she was at fifteen. Her hand went to his shoulder to steady herself, and he felt the softness of her body as it sat flush to his.

Womanhood suited her.

He turned to meet her eye. The shared glance was momentary, before both had to look away. He could feel his own neck reddening now, too. He was finally grateful for the disgusting cotton-wool beard.

“What do you want?” He muttered.

She was staring resolutely out of the window. “What?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Tch. For Christmas, brat. What do you want?”

“Oh.” She shifted in his lap, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from hissing at her to keep still. “Ah … well …”

“C’mon. Haven’t got all day - gifts to deliver, and shit.”

“Oi.” She jabbed him in the chest for his language. He grunted, poking her in the back to try to get her to hurry the hell up. 

“Alright. For Christmas, what I’d really like … is for someone not to spend their birthday alone. I’d … like to celebrate my … friend’s birthday, with them.”

Well, that was unexpected. He cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his surprise. “Oh. I see.”

Suddenly, one of the brats near the back piped up. “Captain Levi! She means Captain Levi!”

How the fuck?

He peered up at her beneath his oversized hat. “Seems like someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut,” he mumbled. “Sure you’ve been the goodest girl?”

Finally, she looked at him properly. Her mouth curved into an apologetic smile, cheeks still glowing. “Sorry. But we really would like you here, with us?”

Her words made his chest go tight.

“Santa is coming to spend Christmas with us, too?” An excited voice chirped.

Historia fumbled. “Captain Levi. I mean, we would like Captain Levi here!”

Levi hated his birthday. Historia had only found out about it by accident. But now, it seemed, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place as dozens of little, expectant eyes stared up at him and the pretty Queen sat upon his lap.

To hell with it, then.

“Mmm. Sure the Captain could stop by. I’ll ask him to make time in his busy schedule. He’s got some presents to deliver himself, first.”

Historia seemed to get the joke. She squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Thank you.”

Levi nodded once. “Fine. Now shift, brat. You’re heavy,” he lied. “I’ve a dead leg.”

—

It was far later than it should have been by the time he made it to the front porch, after having one too many Christmas cookies and glasses of eggnog thrust his way. It wasn’t even damn Christmas yet. Not for a few hours, at least.

He felt a tug on the back of his red suit. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to get this scratchy shit off of him in the carriage that was waiting at the end of the path.

“Hey.” He turned to find Historia staring at him, her cheeks rosy, but this time likely due to too much eggnog rather than embarrassment. “You were wonderful.”

“Shut up.” Despite himself, he could feel his mouth twitching upwards beneath his beard. Damn him.

“You can take the beard off now, you know. They’re all in bed.”

Right.

Levi ripped it from his face, eternally grateful to feel the cold evening air against his clean shaven skin. “That shit was irritating as hell,” he grumbled, shoving it into his pocket. He looked up to find Historia laughing at him. “Oi. It’s not funny.”

She quietened, although she was still smiling when she asked, “you will come tomorrow, won’t you? Afterwards. Once we’ve delivered everything. I won’t make a fuss, promise. I haven’t even got you a gift.”

Levi shoved both his hands in his pockets. “Good. Alright. Not like I have much choice now, is there? Apparently Santa is going to have a word with me.”

She laughed again, this time softer. “I’ll look forward to it. Goodnight, Captain.”

Levi inclined his head. “Night.” He turned, but before he could take another step, her voice halted him again.

“Wait -“

He rolled his eyes, sighing loudly in exasperation. “What now?”

Before he had chance to process what was happening, Historia was on the porch beside him, leaning on her tiptoes as she kissed his cheek. 

His eyes widened as she settled back to look at him. “Changed my mind; about the gift. Happy Birthday, Levi.”

Levi tried desperately to hang on to his trademark expression of boredom. He was well aware he failed miserably. “Huh. Not my birthday, yet.”

“Oh. Of course,” Historia gave him a shy grin. “True. I’ll have to give it you again, tomorrow, then.”

No longer sporting a cotton wool beard to hide his blush, Levi spun quickly around and marched down the path. He was sure Historia must know he was fighting a smile, though. 

[calliope-love-corner]

Extention of the Self

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Oh, no way, the little guys I don't mind at all!" I smile. "They're pretty cute, actually! I mean, I was pretty scared of basically every spider when I was a kid, but the little jumpy dudes have sorta grown on me, yknow?"

Annabelle sits next to me on the park bench, legs crossed to face towards me. She rested one arm on the back of the seat and looked at me as if she were hanging on every word.

"That's certainly encouraging to hear seeing as I am all but literally made of spiders." She joked. I smile.

"That's true, isn't it? In that one statement-" I cut myself off. She raises an eyebrow. "God, maybe I shouldn't say? I dunno, would you find it rude if I repeated what they wrote?"

"Oh, please. It can't be anything I don't already know about myself." She rolled her eyes, which had multiplied to two sets of two since we left the restaurant a half hour ago. Appearances were important, after all, and odd looks and questions sounded like a lot to deal with while you're trying to go on a date.

I shrug. "God, yeah, the guy wrote that he looked in your head while you were passed out and all cracked open and it was just /webs./ no brain or anything."

Annabelle laughed. "Well I suppose that's still half accurate. I sort of ditched all of the important head organs, but it's not just wisps of cobweb up there anymore." She adjusted her hair and tilted her head to the side to show the silvery-white mass that stretched across the hole in her skull. I lean in to look, but can't see much past the thickly woven and almost silken material. I raise my eyebrows curiously.

"Oh christ, don't tell me you have, like, a bunch of fucking spiders living up there now. I dunno if I could handle that."

Annabelle pursed her lips and looked away, an awkward indication that I'd gotten it right. My jaw dropped.

"Something like that, unfortunately."

"That is actually terrifying!!" I exclaim. She laughs.

"That's... sort of the point, dear."

I blink. "Ah. Right."

Annabelle rolls her eyes affectionately.

"So... can I see?" I ask cautiously, feeling a sense of morbid curiosity. She doesn't exactly seem surprised at the request, but takes a moment to think about it to herself first, mulling it over in her head.

"Maybe. Can I try something first?"

"Depends. What did you have in mind?"

"You said you didn't mind jumping spiders..?"

"Not the little ones- too big and the jumping and speed and all that sort of freaks me out."

She pauses to think for a second, biting her thumbnail absentmindedly. "Alright," she finally says. I nearly lean in a little more, curious what she had to say. "Hold out your hand."

"Oh." I feel my stomach lurch. She wants me to hold one. Shit, I think on instinct, because spiders have never ever been my thing. After a second, though, I think about all the times I've successfully coexisted with little jumping spiders before. I think about how when I'm with a group of people and trying to act tough, I always take care of the spider in the corner, scooping it up in a cup and taking it outside no problem. When I'm alone I'm totally scared shitless of bugs, but with other people watching, I can usually muster up the courage to take it in stride. So I do as she asks, cupping my hands out towards her as she looks all over her body for something. I bite the inside of my cheek in anticipation as Annabelle seems to find what she's looking for on the back of her neck, drawing her hand back with a small arachnid perched on her knuckle.

"Here. Are you okay to hold it?" She carries it towards me, and i don't feel afraid. It's just my size, actually, with big eyes and tiny legs.

"Hm? Yeah, let's see him!" I grin, and she lets it scurry onto my hand. Handling the thing is easy- I watch it scuttle quickly over and around my hand, flipping it over and upside-down to keep it in view. It's mesmerizing watching it go. Suddenly, it leaps out of my palm and onto the back of the bench.

"Shit," I say. "Do you- uh- need that back?"

I look up at her for guidance, noticing her hands cupped close as if sheltering something delicate. She chuckles. "No, no. He's from around here- a local, let's say. He'll be fine."

I relax at this, but can't get my eyes off her hands- I don't need her to tell me what it is, another spider, no question. She catches my eyes.

"This one is a touch bigger." Annabelle uncups her hands and shows me a house spider, dusty brown with spindly legs, about the size of a nickel or a quarter, give or take. I back off on instinct.

"Oh, I promise it's not bad at all. The same as the one you just had, practically." She tries to reassure me. I grimace.

"It won't jump, will it...?" I do my best to be polite- this is quite literally Annabelle showing me a very important part of herself.

"No, it won't. It's rather fast, but shouldn't overwhelm you to any degree."

"Will it bite?" I ask a final question, knowing that no matter what the answer is I'm going to end up holding it anyway. I know that she wouldn't give me anything actually dangerous, but- it made me feel /significantly/ better to ask.

"If it does, it's no worse than a mosquito bite."

"Hmm." I bite down on my cheek and offer up my hands. "Okay. Just. Do it quick."

"I promise you'll be just fine." Annabelle assures me, and coaxes it into my hands. It is quite fast, crossing over into my palm in the blink of an eye. I do all I can not to wince and frighten the thing into a defensive position where it might actually try and bite, and after a few seconds, I make some peace with the arachnid. I relax myself a bit, watching it dart over my hands looking very confused. When the initial shock passes, I'm left feeling quite the same as I had with the much littler spider before.

"Go ahead and let that one go too, when you're ready. You're quite a natural at this." She praised me, making me smile. While I lower the spider down to the grass, I can't help but make a crude joke.

"Yeah, I get that from girls a lot."

She kicks at my leg, scolding me. I snicker and look back to her expectantly, seeing her hands once again cupping something hidden.

"...Now, this one is... a significant step up." Annabelle warns, looking a little worried herself. I cringe, fearing the worst.

"What are you about to put in my hands??" I whine, knowing that whatever it is I'm going to say yes no matter what, because Annabelle is very pretty, and I like her very much, and I'd like to seem as competent and cool and tough as possible. She bites her lip and holds her hands out just a bit, keeping them nearer to herself than to me. A brown and vaguely fuzzy looking patterned spider just smaller than her palm sat there, crawling from one of her hands to the other as she moved to catch it with each step. I very quickly go into panic mode, my heart dropping to my stomach in the process.

"Oh! My God! Okay! That is enormous!!" I exclaim, not loud enough to scare it, but loud enough to make it clear that I was not exactly psyched to be doing this. Annabelle looked understanding, worried, and humored all at the same time, but she also had this air about her that made me think she genuinely did want me to try and do this for her own sake. The sucker I am, of course I would, but you'd better believe i was going to put up a fight first.

"It's a common american wolf spider- if it does bite you, it'll get a little irritated and infected likely, but it'll really only be sore for a week or so- i promise it's not bad at all."

"So it's going to bite me??" My eyes go wide. I've seen a wolf spider before many times- several years of working at a summer camp will put a good amount of wildlife in your book, creepy crawlies definitely included.

"Well- probably not. I-" she starts, but my stomach takes a plunge, contorting my face to one of extreme distaste. "I can't know for sure, of course, because these things happen, but it probably won't. He's not temperamental."

I groan and grumble and toss second thoughts back and forth in my head for but a few seconds before tentatively holding my hands out again and squeezing my eyes tight.

"Oh my God. I hate literally everything about this." I say mostly to myself. "Just do it. I won't freak out. I won't freak out. I'm chill. I'm all good, I'm calm." I repeat like a mantra or a manifestation. I think closing my eyes actually did help, because when I started to feel a couple tiny legs slowly crawl into and across my fingertips, I didn't flinch nor squeak nor squirm. I held perfectly still, and it did the same. The moment seem to stretch on for forever.

"Cal...?" Annabelle said.

"Mhm?" I responded with a lightly quivering voice through tight-pursed lips.

"Would you open your eyes?" She asked, hesitating just a bit at the end.

"Do I have to..?" I murmur.

"Of course not."

Silence, for just a few seconds. I take a breath and slowly pop one eye open, looking down at the creature in my hands. While it scurried back and forth in Annabelle's hands, mine were unfamiliar, and it sat unmoving- a small weight in my palm. It was a strange sensation feeling and seeing it there. With one eye safely open and the situation assessed, the other one promptly followed. I blinked myself back into the moment, looking down at my hands, entranced. It felt like the spider and I were in an agreement of sorts- i would be still and predictable and brave, and it would be calm and do me no harm. I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn't even quite registered Annabelle's gentle hands cupped under mine to offer support. I chance a look up at her- she smiles warmly down at the spider, but glances up to meet my gaze.

"You're a natural." She lovingly encourages. I offer a weak smile in response, shrinking shyly away into my coat. Suddenly, the arachnid starts to slowly creep forward.

"Oh, my God, okay, it's moving-" I channel my fear to my voice instead of my body, trying to keep from moving and scaring it. Annabelle moves her hand to catch it as it starts to crawl off of me and redirects it back towards my palms.

"You're doing wonderful." She coos, and I don't entirely believe her. Annabelle guides my right hand with her own for me to catch the spider as it wanders this time, and soon enough, I'm letting it scuttle over each of my hands in turn, keeping it safe and curious and alive. A moment later, she coaxes the spider towards her, and takes it back. I let out a shuddery breath. Annabelle laughs.

"You did great!"

"That was literally awful!"

The spider disappeared out of sight somewhere on her body, and I decide not to think too hard about the implications of that. I start to ramble more about spiders, but she stops me when she takes my hands in hers again with some sort of purpose. I look up to meet her eyes.

"Okay. How are you feeling?" She asks.

"Let's just say adrenaline is a hell of a drug. What now?"

Annabelle laughs, low and genuine. "Well, you said that my head was full of a bunch of spiders?"

"Mostly joking, but yeah. Wait, is it actually??"

"Well, more like... one big spider?"

"Oh, fuck off-" I scoot back. "How big are we talking here??"

She squints one eye and cringes a bit, speaking cautiously.

"Its... quite large, compared to the others."

"Christ. Jesus christ! Okay! Fuck!" I start to panic, but hold my hands out again anyways. "This is going to suck so bad."

She holds my hands, rubbing her thumb comfortingly over my knuckles. "You'll be just fine. I promise you, nothing bad will happen. It's slow, and calm, and quite easygoing. Close you eyes."

"Oh my God! I cannot believe I'm doing this, this is fucking insane!" I ramble in my anxiety, but do as I'm told without question.

"Do you trust me?" She asks.

"Is that a joke?? Absolutely not." I spit out, anticipating the thing of undetermined size crawling over my skin.

"Okay, fair. Do you trust me not to do you any harm right now?"

I pause. Despite my fear, I did trust her that much.

"...yes. I do."

"I promise you'll be alright. Just keep your eyes shut, okay?"

I purse my lips, swallow hard, and nod.

Seconds later, a few hairy legs creep only my fingertips. I suck in my breath and hold it there, heart pounding out of my tightened chest as it slowly finds its footing in my cupped palms. The first thing I realize is just how massive it really is- the creature easily fills my hands and then some, and it's about the weight of a baseball. It feels around up to my wrists, and Annabelle starts to readjust her position supporting my hands.

"Dont you fucking dare let go," I snip at the slightest idea that she would leave me alone in the dark with this thing. She holds me firmly in reassurance.

"I won't. I promise."

"I hope you know how horrifying this is."

"I'm aware."

"I'm pretty sure this is the craziest fucking thing I have literally ever done."

"I'm very proud of you for it."

We sit in silence for a moment, my hands held perfectly still. The giant tarantula crawls off every so often, only to be gently moved or guided back to my palms.

"...if you open your eyes will you panic?" She chances, biting her lip.

"Maybe. Probably not. Will /it/ panic?"

"Not unless you do first."

"I am scared absolutely shitless right now. This is INSANE."

"I know. I know you are."

My eyes slowly flutter open and draw down to the giant velvety black tarantula in my hands. It only takes a second for me to take it all in- probably the size of a small plate at full wingspan, with sharp mandables, a fat abdomen, and huge articulated legs. It was a dark, shiny black all over- the first thing I thought was that it looked like a Halloween decoration more than a living creature. And yet it moved, 8 cautious steps at a time across my palms.

"It's a Brazilian black tarantula, if I'm not mistaken. A bit on the larger side." She explains, gently stroking the creature's back.

"No kidding..." I mutter in response, mostly to myself. I am awe-struck, to say the least.

"Something most people don't quite realize is that the bigger a spider gets, the more fragile it becomes. You've got to be as gentle as possible."

"Are you sure?? Because this thing is built like a fucking TANK." I joke. Coping with humor in high-stress situations is my specialty. Annabelle snickers.

"Lately, I've been calling her Penny. And yes, I'm sure. Even a six-inch drop can kill one. The exoskeleton is quite fragile, especially where the abdomen meets the head."

"Penny..." I repeat to myself. "That's... weirdly cute. Especially for something so creepy."

The spider stopped its wandering, and seemed to sit down, in a way. It looked comfortable, soaking up the warmth from my hands. I let out a little laugh.

"She likes you." Annabelle comments. She looks a bit relieved. My face flushes, even at the absurdity of the moment; It feels very intimate, despite literally everything about it.

"So- this is what lives inside your head."

"Mhm. I have no idea how she survives in there, honestly- she doesn't hunt, I don't feed her, or anything. She's... sort of an extention of me? In a strange way."

"Can you, like, control her or something?"

"Not exactly? It's- how do I put it." Annabelle pauses to think. "It's sort of like what your Michael- or is it Helen now? Is to the spiral."

"I hate to say it but that only makes it a little bit easier to understand."

"Such is the way with most things in this odd world."

The words, though a bit grim, sound sweet on her tongue. I let them roll over in my brain for a few moments.

"Poetic." I comment. She shrugs. "I suppose so." With that, she coaxed the arachnid back into her hands, and I watched her guide it back into the hole in the side of her head. The spider crawled through the delicate mess of web with familiarity, and moments later, it disappeared. As soon as it was out of sight, I give a loud, exhausted sigh.

"I'm impressed. You did quite well!" She praised, putting a comforting hand on my leg.

"If you ever let that fucking thing out in my apartment I swear to God I will never speak to you again."

She laughs. "Understood."

"Good."

We sit in silence for a moment as I decompress. The adrenaline rush that came with handling unfamiliar creatures had almost faded, and my body felt heavy. Contrasting my physical exhaustion, my brain was lighting up with excitement. I felt very close to her right now- closer to Annabelle than I ever have. The fact that she even /wanted/ me to see the spiders made me feel... important, in a way. She had guided me through the experience all of her own accord. It made me really feel like she wanted me to know her- to REALLY know her- to a degree i couldn't even comprehend. I know what she is, and I know what she does, and right now, I am not afraid.

"Shall we, then?" Annabelle pulls me out of my thoughts. It had gotten pretty dark without me even really noticing, the sun having disappeared below the horizon, and a few dim stars taking their place in the twilight sky.

"Oh. Yeah, let's."

We stand up. She takes my arm in a very old-fashioned style and we stroll out of the quiet park and into the well-lit and busy night streets. Part of me wants to offer to walk her home, but another part knows that she likely doesn't really have a home to go to. Even if she did, I had a sinking feeling that it wasn't something she quite wanted me to see just now. So, we walked comfortably a few blocks through the city before parting ways at the front door to my building.

Annabelle gave me a quick peck on the cheek, said that she had had fun, and moments later, she was gone- disappeared as quickly and strangely as she always did. The kid in me pictured her slinging up and away on a web like Spiderman, but the realist knew she probably had some weird fear avatar powers that she used to make a dramatic entrance or exit. Once she had gone, I sighed and turned in for the night, a blushing mess.